Co Authored by Arhum Tariq Butt (Barrister), Ahsan Kaleem Khan (Policy expert)
They once warned that the wars of the twenty-first century would be fought over water. Today, that prophecy echoes with chilling clarity.
In a world increasingly driven by realpolitik and selective international morality, India’s decision to suspend the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) following the Pahalgam attack represents a profound legal and geopolitical rupture. More than a reactive policy decision, it reflects a long-nurtured strategic ambition: to assert hydro-hegemony over Pakistan by weakening one of the last remaining institutional guardrails of the bilateral relationship.
The Treaty, signed in 1960 with the World Bank as guarantor, is not merely a diplomatic relic—it is a cornerstone of regional stability. For over six decades, it has endured through wars and political upheaval, precisely because it was grounded in international law, not transient goodwill. It allocates the eastern rivers (Ravi, Beas, Sutlej) to India, and reserves the western rivers (Indus, Jhelum, Chenab) for Pakistan, allowing India limited non-consumptive use under strict parameters.
India’s unilateral move to suspend the IWT, even in the wake of a tragic terrorist incident, exceeds the bounds of lawful state conduct. The Treaty contains its own dispute resolution framework, and any amendment or termination must occur through mutual consent—not unilateral action. Under Article 26 of the Vienna Convention on the Law of Treaties, agreements must be performed in good faith. India’s move constitutes not only a treaty violation but also a breach of the customary international law principle of pacta sunt servanda.
In international water law, two principles reign supreme: equitable and reasonable utilization, and the obligation not to cause significant harm. These are codified in the UN Convention on the Law of the Non-Navigational Uses of International Watercourses (1997), and India’s actions are arguably inconsistent with both. Downstream states, or lower riparians, such as Pakistan, have a recognized right to the continuous flow of transboundary rivers. Even under English common law, from which both countries derive many of their legal traditions, riparian rights are protected against arbitrary interference.
India’s history in this domain is telling. In the case of the Baglihar Dam on the Chenab, Pakistan raised objections that the flow reduction during sowing seasons harmed its agriculture. While a neutral expert allowed the dam’s continuation, the episode underscored India’s willingness to push the limits of legality. Similarly, the Kishanganga project on the Neelum River (a Jhelum tributary) resulted in a dispute before the Permanent Court of Arbitration. Although India was allowed to proceed, it was ordered to maintain minimum downstream flows—again reinforcing Pakistan’s legal entitlements.
The current crisis, however, marks a more fundamental departure. Unlike past technical disputes, India is now attempting a political revocation of the entire Treaty—an act that, if normalized, would threaten not just Pakistan’s water security but the credibility of international water law itself.
From a hydrological perspective, the stakes are enormous. While western tributaries such as the Kabul River and seasonal hill torrents do offer some inflows, they are irregular and insufficient. The Indus River system sustains Pakistan’s core agricultural regions in Punjab and Sindh. A disruption, delay, or reduction in flow would risk large-scale economic losses, internal displacement, and increased dependence on already-stressed groundwater reserves. This is not only a matter of treaty breach—it raises concerns under international human rights law relating to access to water, food security, and health.
Importantly, the legal pretext India invokes—a terrorist attack in Pahalgam—is not, under international treaty law, a valid ground for suspension. Article 62 of the Vienna Convention allows for termination only under “fundamental change of circumstances,” which must be unforeseen, essential to the treaty’s basis, and not self-induced. A security incident, tragic though it may be, does not legally justify unilateral withdrawal from a water-sharing framework that has persisted through decades of far worse hostilities.
Strategically, this is not an isolated act but part of a pattern. Since the abrogation of Article 370 in 2019, which revoked Kashmir’s special status, India has demonstrated a willingness to act unilaterally in defiance of international norms, banking on its economic rise and growing global influence—particularly its strategic alignment with the United States. Pakistan’s restrained diplomatic response at that time was interpreted by many in New Delhi as acquiescence. That perception may now be encouraging further assertiveness, including in Balochistan and other sensitive areas.
The current suspension of the IWT therefore appears less as a spontaneous reaction and more as the culmination of a strategic posture—one in which India believes the geopolitical balance allows it to abandon constraints it once respected. But this calculus overlooks a vital distinction: territory can be contested over time; water is immediate. Disrupting Pakistan’s water supply transforms a bilateral disagreement into a potential existential crisis—and in the context of two nuclear-armed neighbors, a dangerously unstable flashpoint.
When two nuclear powers escalate over existential resources, it becomes a flashpoint. If India follows through, it will likely escalate into a full-blown crisis. And if history is any guide, this will go down like Kargil—a sharp escalation, intense military posturing, rising fears of nuclear confrontation, and eventual intervention by global powers, especially the United States. Then, the stakes were military. Now, they are existential and ecological. The potential for miscalculation, unintended escalation, or broader destabilization cannot be underestimated.
For Pakistan, the path forward must be grounded in legal clarity and diplomatic firmness. The matter should be brought before the International Court of Justice and raised at the UN Security Council as a violation of an internationally supervised treaty with global implications. This is not merely a bilateral issue; it concerns international water law and the precedents set for upstream-downstream relations globally.
Moreover, Pakistan should use this moment to broaden the diplomatic canvas. Any mediation or intervention should address not only the IWT but also India’s broader violations of international norms—including its conduct in Kashmir and interference in Pakistan’s internal affairs. If the global system rewards violations with silence, it invites further instability. Pakistan must ensure that peace, if it is to follow, is anchored not in capitulation but in a balanced and enforceable settlement.
The Indus Waters Treaty was never about goodwill. It was about law. And that law, now under threat, must be defended—not only for Pakistan’s sake, but for the credibility of international agreements in a world where might must not become right.Water, after all, is not just a resource—it is life. And no nation surrenders its right to life. Not in law. Not in war. Not ever.
