Maha Abbas
For all states, water has always been a sacred commodity. It is more than an ordinary natural resource; it serves as a strategic asset. In many parts of the world, it acts as a medium of political influence. In the most extreme case, it can become a source of conflict. Since the 1960s, the Indus Water Treaty has managed water-sharing between Pakistan and India. The treaty is still in effect. However, one newer set of issues is testing the limits of this treaty. The concerns include upstream dam construction, shifting weather patterns, and rising demand for water. Water insecurity today is not just an environmental problem; it has become a national security issue, causing excessive concern about the future of water diplomacy within South Asia and beyond.
The remarkably interesting point about the treaty is that it stands the test of time, even when there has been extremely bitter rivalry, including wars, between the two countries. When official communication broke down, it functioned as a diplomatic backchannel, serving to remind that dependencies must continue in times of crisis, even at the height of hostilities. The durability of the treaty, however, is reportedly currently undergoing a test. Following an incident in Pahalgam in April 2025, the two nations failed to hide the increased tensions that had seized them. All these have brought about discussions on the treaty’s longevity. There were reports that the water-sharing mechanism had broken, and there were also hints of a possible withdrawal from treaty commitments. The event has rekindled critical conversation.
This phase has a particularly high probability of damage because, being simultaneously global in nature, it is administering a water crisis far beyond its normal sustenance. Droughts are increasing in intensity around the world due to population burden, increased agricultural demand, and rising levels of climate change impact. There lies the danger of far-reaching consequences, some of which may branch far beyond the immediate geographic boundary, arising out of the failure of a single water treaty. A weakening of faith in one treaty brings a low credibility status upon other treaties.
The Indus Waters Treaty has to be contextualized in exactly this manner, as not a bilateral agreement, but as part of an internationally precarious surface of transboundary water cooperation. Its significance lies not only in the quantum of water allocated by it but also in what it represents: the ability of two countries, sometimes in conflict, to design a systematic, legally based approach to managing a shared resource. Acting against or undermining such a framework threatens to replace certainty with speculation and clarity with doubt in future discussions. Thus, crisis management is set to become exceedingly problematic.
This certainly does not mean that the agreement is free from any and all problems. Its shortcomings have been pointed out by a critic from both camps. Some claim it fails to take into account technological changes in irrigation and dam construction and modern-day realities in terms of hydrological patterns. Others say that the deal does not provide adequate provisions to address climate change, whose impacts are altering the patterns of rainfall and snowmelt in the Himalayan region. These are undoubtedly legitimate worries. Rather, the argument is that the treaty needs updating and modification, and certainly not that it is entirely defunct.
This occasion calls for the strengthening of the cooperative frameworks rather than putting them backward. Given the present-day happenings, it’s time for water diplomacy to move from static treaties to dynamic cooperative mechanisms. These can include open sharing of data, collaborative flood and drought management, frequent joint monitoring missions, and climate resilience systems. Notably, this may also encompass dialogues involving local communities, environmentalists, and water resource managers, besides state actors. Equally useful to examine is the aspect of third-party facilitation. With the impartiality offered by the World Bank, it became an arbiter of choice in launching the IWT. This presents an opportunity for international actors, such as multilateral institutions, regional forums, or even civil society, to once again create secure environmental-sharing venues for technical discussions.
Perhaps most crucially, we need to keep in mind that rivers do not alter their path in response to political events like borders do. Despite conflicts and accords, they continue to flow. The people who rely on them for their livelihoods, food production, and drinking water cannot afford diplomatic deadlocks. These groups are most vulnerable when the structures for collaboration break down.
Because of this, I think water diplomacy should be viewed as essential to 21st-century peacebuilding rather than as a side issue. Water can offer a common story of survival and cooperation in areas where history has wrought division. The idea that rivers may bring people together is not naive; in fact, it is among the most ancient truths in human history.
Regardless of its destiny, the Indus Waters Treaty has demonstrated to us that cooperation over necessities can occur even in the face of hostility. Despite their seriousness, I believe the current tensions should not overshadow that accomplishment. They should not detract from the current opportunity, which is to modernize water diplomacy, rethink collaboration in the face of emerging difficulties, and restate the idea that political disagreement should never compromise water access.
Millions of people who live along the banks of these rivers, as well as countries all over the world negotiating their own water destinies, will be closely watching what happens next, in addition to diplomats and policy experts. Future human responses to shared water stress may be influenced by the decisions taken in South Asia now.