Indus waters have long been a serious bone of contention. PPP Chairman Bilawal Bhutto Zardari added to the long, acrimonious history on Sunday when he accused the federal government of deliberately creating a water crisis in Sindh. The Indus River is Pakistan’s lifeline. No qualms about that. Hence, any water shortage, in the wake of several mighty and small rivers dotting all across the country, is nothing short of a tragedy. Unfortunately, Sindh’s woes are a tale as old as time. Its highly integrated irrigation network–with 14 main canals and over 40,000 field channels–appears helpless against its acute water shortage. Farmers working in the lower riparian regions have had to bear the brunt of the catastrophic water shortage in the last several years. Pakistan is well on its way to water scarcity–by 2025, as per the Pakistan Council of Research in Water Resources. Thus, such a decline in per capita availability (from 5000 m3 per annum to 1000 m3 per annum) and the drastic implications were well-expected. Yet, no knowledge of climatic changes can bring respite to thousands of citizens who charge upon the government every year; demanding an end to their suffering. Seeking an end to the plight of exasperated Pakistanis is one thing. Politicising the rotten luck just to play the provincial card is a different story altogether. Mr Bhutto-Zardari’s passionate accusation–with a dash of theatrics–may win him the support of those at the losing end of this war. However, the fact that his party has always held a seat at the table since the ’70s cannot simply be brushed under the rug. If only the federal government is to be blamed for Sindhis being denied their due share of water, why hasn’t the provincial administration implemented any viable land reforms? It is a known fact that few well-endowed families use their political clout to control the hydro politics in Sindh. Time and again, the media has brought to fore attempts to arm-twist the irrigation department; manipulate existing laws and sanction direct outlets to feed private lands. What substantial steps has the Sindh government taken to root out those with deep pockets? The tenacity of Sindh’s water feud goes as back as one can remember (historic accounts pinpoint 1901 as the first conflict). As is the case with most upper and lower basins, Sindh and Punjab have long been involved in a battle for rightful ownership of Indus water. There was a time when Punjab’s consumption was restricted to the extent that it could not take a single drop of water sans Sindh’s consent. Post-independence, every major water legislation (Indus Water Treaty; construction of major dams at Kalabagh, Diamer-Bhasha and Dasu and Water Apportionment Accord 1991) has flared up a series of interprovincial disputes. Given the changing landscape and increase in population, Sindh is not wrong in asking for more than the 42 per cent allowed by the 1991 accord. Yet, any hullabaloo should take into account the rapidly escalating climatic emergency in the country. Had the PPP chairman invested a little thought to sustainable solutions to this distressing disaster, he would not have merely hopped on the smearing bandwagon. It is far easier to play the blame game than to genuinely pursue course corrections that matter. Saving mangroves (Sindh’s trees of life), checking the release of untreated sewage and re-orienting urbanisation plans, for instance, are some of the much-needed starting points. Access to safe water is a fundamental human right. Raising hue and cry alone can hardly avoid a calamity that is ready to bang on our doors. *