The decision by the Narendra Modi government to scrap the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) with Pakistan in retaliation for the April 22, 2025, terror attack in Pahalgam, Jammu and Kashmir, marks a seismic shift in India-Pakistan relations. This dastardly attack, which claimed 26 lives, mostly tourists, has reignited tensions between the nuclear-armed neighbors, prompting India to take the unprecedented step of suspending a treaty that has underpinned regional stability for over six decades. Prime Minister Modi’s earlier assertion after the 2016 Uri attack—that “blood and water cannot flow together”—has now materialized into a bold policy move, despite the geographical and ecological realities that make stopping the flow of the Indus, Chenab, and Jhelum rivers a near-impossible feat. While the suspension aims to counter Pakistan’s alleged misuse of the treaty to obstruct India’s hydel projects, it also raises profound questions about the future of water security, climate change impacts, and the fragile geopolitical balance in South Asia. This article explores the historical context, strategic motivations, and far-reaching consequences of this decision, set against the backdrop of an already strained Indus River system.
The Indus Waters Treaty, signed on September 19, 1960, in Karachi by Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and Pakistani President Ayub Khan, was a landmark achievement brokered by the World Bank after years of intense negotiations. It allocated the waters of the Indus River basin, which spans a drainage area exceeding 1,165,000 square kilometers and has an estimated annual flow of 207 cubic kilometers, making it the world’s 21st largest river by flow. Under the treaty, India gained control over the “eastern” rivers—Beas, Ravi, and Sutlej—while Pakistan was granted rights to the “western” rivers—Indus, Chenab, and Jhelum. On the surface, the treaty appears generous to Pakistan, allocating it 80% of the western rivers’ waters. However, this allocation reflects geographical necessity rather than Indian magnanimity. The Kashmir Valley, a mere 15,520.3 square kilometers with an average elevation of 1,850 meters, is hemmed in by the Pir Panjal range, which rises to 5,000 meters, creating an insurmountable barrier to diverting water elsewhere. The valley’s topography, coupled with the lack of large-scale storage infrastructure, ensures that the waters of the western rivers must flow into Pakistan.
Pakistan’s dependence on the Indus system is existential. The river system irrigates 90% of its cropland, supporting an agricultural sector that accounts for 22.7% of GDP and employs 37.4% of the workforce. Key export crops like wheat, rice, and cotton, which generated $4.8 billion in 2022, rely heavily on this water. The British-built canal system in Punjab, largely inherited by Pakistan post-Partition, underscores the region’s historical reliance on the Indus. Yet, Pakistan has frequently accused India of violating the IWT, blaming it for floods caused by alleged sudden releases from storage gates and for obstructing water flows through hydel projects. India, in turn, has criticized Pakistan’s “dog in the manger” attitude, accusing it of exploiting treaty provisions to delay or block permissible run-of-the-river hydel projects on the Chenab and Jhelum, which supply much of the Kashmir Valley’s electricity.
The geography of the western rivers complicates any attempt to halt their flow. The Indus originates near Kargil in India but flows almost entirely through Pakistan-controlled territory. The Jhelum, rising near Verinag in Anantnag, meanders over 200 kilometers through the Kashmir Valley, filling Wular Lake and powering hydel projects before entering Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK). The Chenab, originating in Himachal Pradesh’s Lahaul-Spiti, flows through Jammu into Pakistan’s Punjab plains. Its narrow, elongated catchment area and steep gradient—dropping 24 meters per kilometer—pose significant technical and economic challenges to harnessing its full potential. As Dr. Shakil Ahmad Romshoo, head of earth sciences at the University of Kashmir, has noted, stopping the Jhelum’s flow is infeasible without massive storage infrastructure, which Jammu and Kashmir lacks. The region’s mountainous terrain precludes transferring water to other states, unlike flatter regions such as Tamil Nadu or Karnataka. Thus, while India’s suspension of the IWT is a powerful symbolic gesture, the physical reality ensures that water will continue to flow downstream.
India’s decision to scrap the treaty is rooted in strategic and political imperatives. Pakistan’s alleged support for cross-border terrorism, exemplified by the Pahalgam attack claimed by The Resistance Front, an offshoot of the Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba, has long strained bilateral ties. India accuses Pakistan of using the IWT’s dispute resolution mechanisms to hinder legitimate development projects, such as the Kishanganga and Ratle hydel projects, which comply with the treaty’s run-of-the-river stipulations. By suspending the treaty, India aims to assert greater control over the western rivers, potentially accelerating hydel development to meet Jammu and Kashmir’s energy needs and signaling to Pakistan that its actions will have tangible consequences. The move also resonates domestically, bolstering the Modi government’s image as a decisive defender of national interests amid public outrage over the Pahalgam attack.
However, the suspension carries significant risks and complexities. Legally, the IWT lacks a provision for unilateral withdrawal, and India’s position as the upstream nation gives it leverage but also invites international scrutiny. The World Bank, which continues to oversee the treaty’s implementation, has expressed concern, noting that any alteration requires mutual consent. Diplomatically, the move has drawn global attention, with the United States, Saudi Arabia, and Iran urging de-escalation. On April 25, 2025, U.S. President Donald Trump called the Pahalgam attack a “bad one” but expressed hope for a resolution, while Saudi Arabia and Iran offered mediation. The UN Security Council condemned the attack and called for restraint, reflecting fears of a broader conflict between nuclear-armed neighbors.
The ecological and climatic dimensions of the decision are equally critical. The Indus River basin, unlike the monsoon-fed Ganga and Brahmaputra, relies heavily on Himalayan glacier melt, which accounts for 70% of its flow. Climate change is already disrupting this delicate balance, with glacial retreat accelerating in the Himalayas. A 2023 study by the International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) warned that the Indus basin could lose 50% of its glacial volume by 2100, severely reducing water availability. Current projections suggest the Indus system’s flow could drop below 2000 levels between 2030 and 2040, reaching a new equilibrium 20% lower by 2060. Pakistan, where river water provides 80% of irrigation, is particularly vulnerable. Over-diversion to northern agricultural regions has already caused seawater intrusion miles inland, threatening ecosystems and livelihoods in Sindh. The suspension of the IWT could exacerbate these challenges, potentially triggering a humanitarian crisis if Pakistan’s access to water is curtailed.
Pakistan’s response has been predictably sharp. Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif labeled the suspension an “act of war,” convening an emergency National Security Committee meeting on April 24, 2025, to address the crisis. Pakistan conducted surface-to-surface missile tests off Karachi on April 24–25, signaling military readiness, and reported ceasefire violations along the Line of Control on April 25–26. Economically, Pakistan is ill-equipped to weather further instability. With foreign reserves at $3.7 billion, a debt-to-GDP ratio of 70%, and inflation at 38.50% in 2023, the country faces a $22 billion external debt repayment burden in 2025. The Pakistan Stock Exchange’s 2.12% plunge on April 24 reflects investor panic, compounded by India’s trade freeze and airspace restrictions.
The scrapping of the IWT underscores the fragility of India-Pakistan relations, where water, terrorism, and geopolitics are inextricably linked. For India, the move is a calculated risk to pressure Pakistan and assert regional dominance, but it must navigate international backlash and ecological realities. For Pakistan, the suspension threatens an already strained economy and water-dependent agriculture, potentially fueling domestic unrest. The path forward requires urgent dialogue, possibly mediated by global powers, to restore stability and address the looming water crisis exacerbated by climate change. Without cooperative management of the Indus basin, both nations risk a future where neither blood nor water flows sustainably, leaving South Asia’s heartland parched and volatile.
Dipak Kurmi
