On Monday, India marked another blow to the Indus Water Treaty (IWT) by approving a new hydropower project on the Chenab River–an action that goes beyond the routine disputes that have long surrounded the agreement. Pakistan was quick to condemn this development as a blatant violation of the spirit of the 1960 treaty, pointing to a worrying shift in how shared resources are being treated in South Asia. Water has increasingly been weaponised in the region as a major geopolitical tool to gain strategic leverage, with far-reaching consequences for agriculture and food security, regional peace, and the very survival of downstream communities.
Brokered by the World Bank in 1960, the Indus Waters Treaty has endured wars, diplomatic breakdowns and decades of political mistrust. Its strength lay in a clear division of rivers, detailed technical safeguards and dispute-resolution mechanisms designed to keep water insulated from political brinkmanship.
That understanding now appears under strain. The Permanent Court of Arbitration has held that the treaty cannot be suspended or revoked unilaterally, a position Islamabad maintains reflects the binding and internationally guaranteed nature of the agreement. Any attempt to bypass its mechanisms, Pakistan argues, directly undermines its water rights.
That Chenab is central to irrigation networks, hydropower generation, and the livelihoods of millions downstream cannot be emphasised enough. Any interference by the upper riparian state has direct consequences for agriculture and energy security in a country already grappling with climate stress and chronic water scarcity.
India maintains that such projects fall within its rights to pursue non-consumptive hydropower development on western rivers. These claims are not new. What has changed is the broader context in which these decisions are being taken: heightened political tensions, reduced transparency, and a visible erosion of confidence in treaty mechanisms. Without consistent data-sharing and meaningful recourse to established forums such as the Indus Waters Commission, even technically permissible projects risk being perceived less as development initiatives and more as instruments of pressure.
Our political leadership, particularly Senator Sherry Rehman, has characterised this project as “weaponisation of power” to exert strategic pressure on Pakistan. The real danger, nonetheless, lies not only in immediate hydrological impact but in precedent. If water becomes another domain of coercive signalling, it introduces instability into a region where margins for error are already thin. In a nuclearised neighbourhood facing accelerating climate volatility, turning rivers into bargaining chips is neither prudent nor sustainable.
As for Pakistan, legal recourse remains essential, but it is insufficient on its own. Defending treaty rights must be paired with a broader strategy that strengthens domestic water management, builds climate resilience and engages international institutions committed to upholding water law. At the same time, diplomacy-however difficult-cannot be abandoned. Durable solutions require dialogue, transparency and a shared recognition that unilateralism over shared rivers carries long-term costs for all parties.
The Indus basin has sustained civilisations for centuries. Its future should not be hostage to short-term politics. *