The Cholistan Canal is currently framed as an agricultural off-take-designed to release 4,100 cusecs of monsoon floodwater for six months into Punjab’s southeastern desert, traditionally treated as marginal land. The canal has already triggered controversy, especially from Sindh, the lower riparian province, which fears further depletion of Indus flows. But a more compelling question remains overlooked: Can the Cholistan Canal be repurposed not just for agriculture, but as a national model for climate-smart, aquifer-based land revival that serves both people and nature-while freeing up water for the Indus Delta?
This debate must begin with the Hakra River Basin, which once ran through Cholistan. Stretching around 15 kilometres wide, this ancient, now-dry channel was a major monsoonal tributary of the Sutlej and Indus Rivers. Archaeological surveys have documented over 400 Indus Valley Civilization sites along its bed, confirming the region’s historic fertility. But for over 120 years, the Hakra has remained dry-first disrupted by the Ottu Weir in 1898, which the East India Company built to divert flows into northern canals. Later, the Sutlej Valley Project in British Punjab permanently sealed the Sutlej’s natural distributaries into Hakra. Most strikingly, the Indus Waters Treaty of 1960 entirely ignored the Hakra Basin, handing over Sutlej flows to India without any provision to protect the ecosystem of Cholistan. As a result, the basin’s wetlands collapsed, its aquifers shrank, and its indigenous breeds of livestock and migratory birds were placed under extreme ecological stress.
Yet beneath the apparent desolation lies hope: a massive underground aquifer, geologically connected to the Indus and Sutlej systems, possibly holding hundreds of million acre-feet of water. This latent resource, if recharged regularly through seasonal surface flows, could serve as the foundation of a sustainable desert economy-one that aligns agriculture with ecology. Here, the planned 4,100 cusecs of Cholistan Canal during monsoon can do wonders. If these flows are released directly into the ancient Hakra alignment, they can be allowed to spread naturally, infiltrate porous soils, and recharge the aquifer.
With a changing climate and collapsing ecosystems, there is a rare opportunity to put water back where it belongs
Over a period of five to seven years of consistent monsoon flooding, this approach can gradually rebuild the region’s shallow water tables, restore seasonal lakes and depressions, and breathe life back into ephemeral wetlands that once supported grazing and wildlife. This method not only simulates the pre-colonial hydrology of the region but also avoids massive infrastructure costs associated with concrete-laden canal distribution systems. Instead of lifting water and flooding fields, this approach invites water to sink in gently, following the old rhythms of nature.
Releasing 4,100 cusecs over a 120-day period translates to approximately 1MAF of water, assuming a specific calculation methodology. If half of this volume percolates down to replenish aquifers, protected from evaporation, it could support sustainable agriculture through shallow pumping or passive capillary rise. Spread across a 15-kilometer-wide Hakra belt, this volume has the potential to re-wet multiple wetlands, support aquifer-fed ecosystems, and provide a steady base for climate-resilient livelihoods.
At the heart of this new paradigm lies agroforestry. Rather than rushing to grow water-intensive crops, the canal-fed wetlands should be surrounded by trees and crops adapted to desert and semi-arid conditions. Date palms, olives, moringa (sohanjna), jujube (ber), mesquite, and local grasses can thrive here with minimal irrigation after establishment. Their deep roots stabilize soil, reduce salinity, and enhance groundwater retention. These species also support local livestock, encourage pollination, and sequester carbon-making them ideal for regenerative land use. Additionally, rotational grazing on revived pastures could help conserve indigenous livestock breeds like the Cholistani cow, Chinakara deer, Houbara Bustard and the rare breeds of camel, while preserving traditional livelihoods.
This form of agriculture poses no threat to Sindh’s access to dry-season water. On the contrary, by making agriculture in Punjab’s dependent on monsoon rains, the province can reduce its reliance on dry-season extractions from the river system. This shift could help restore balance across the basin by making more water available for the Indus Delta, which currently receives only 6 to 10 MAF annually-far short of the 35 MAF required to prevent sea intrusion and ecological collapse.
Sindh’s concerns over new canals are therefore understandable, given Punjab’s historical use of year-round canal flows to grow water-intensive cash crops like rice and sugarcane-crops better suited to the delta than to arid regions. At the same time, it is worth noting that while Sindh’s canal operations limit downstream flows beyond Kotri, the province still releases water into the lower Hakra through the Sukkur Barrage, acknowledging the ecological and cultural value of that landscape. If Sindh can accommodate such needs despite its own water stress, shouldn’t Punjab also be expected to do the same?
To make the Cholistan model a national precedent rather than a provincial flashpoint, four operational principles must be enforced. First, the canal must run strictly during monsoon season; no water should be diverted during low-flow months. Second, the command area must be restricted to the Hakra basin itself, not expanded into new irrigation zones. Third, agriculture must be smart and sustainable, based on drip irrigation, subsurface watering, and agroforestry, not flood irrigation. And fourth, a joint ecological monitoring board-including Sindh and Punjab-should oversee recharge levels and verify that no additional stress is placed on the Indus system.
If these conditions are met, the Cholistan Canal will no longer be seen as a threat but rather as a climate-smart investment in resilience. In fact, this approach can serve as a model for other arid regions like Thal, Kachhi, or western Balochistan, where massive aquifers remain untapped beneath fragile landscapes. Managed well, it may also build political consensus over reallocating surface water to where it’s most needed-the dying Indus Delta.
Cholistan’s case reminds us that colonial water policy broke the ecological backbone of this desert. First the Ottu Weir, then the Sutlej Valley Project, and finally the Indus Waters Treaty conspired-without malice, but with great cost-to erase Hakra’s lifeline. Now, with a changing climate and collapsing ecosystems, there is a rare opportunity to put water back where it belongs, not to subjugate nature, but to let it heal and guide us forward.
Let this canal not just run through the desert, but sink into the earth, replenish the past, and revive the future.
The writer is an Islamabad-based veteran journalist and an independent researcher. He can be reached on Twitter @riazmissen