In a speech at the Stockholm Water Symposium in August 1995, World Bank Vice President Ismail Serageldin warned that “the wars of the next century will be fought over water.” Few expected that the warning would come true this early in the new century, and even fewer expected it to play out between two nuclear-armed rivals.
In recent months, Pakistan has given unusual attention to the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT), with a steady stream of statements from state officials and extensive media coverage — all signaling how much weight Islamabad now places on its water dispute with India. Last year, Pakistan’s National Security Committee explicitly and bluntly warned, “Any attempt to stop or divert the flow of water belonging to Pakistan … will be considered as an Act of War and responded with full force across the complete spectrum of National Power.” The phrase “complete spectrum” is an implicit reference to nuclear weapons.
New Delhi has repeatedly signaled its intent to deny Pakistan water if it continues to back terrorism targeting India. That posture sits in open contravention of the IWT’s provisions. For Islamabad, this is no longer a matter of transboundary resource management. It is rapidly becoming a question of national survival.
Pakistani officials no longer characterize India’s treaty suspension as leverage aimed at renegotiating water sharing or counterterrorism. The prevailing view within Islamabad’s national-security establishment holds that New Delhi is pursuing regional hegemony and seeking to compress Pakistan’s strategic space.
Having failed to achieve escalation dominance through conventional force — as demonstrated by the four-day military clash in May 2025 — India is now presumed to be pivoting toward sub-conventional, non-kinetic instruments of coercion. Hydro-hegemony is among the most potent tools in that arsenal.
At the Islamabad seminar on IWT held on June 30, Lieutenant General Aamer Riaz (Retd) described India’s approach as “born out of coercive strategy.” Pakistani policymakers increasingly believe New Delhi intends to institutionalize this lever — one that could induce drought during the sowing season or flash flooding at the height of monsoon discharge. Public debate in Pakistan has focused primarily on India’s technical capacity to divert the Indus system’s flows.
But that framing overlooks the more consequential variable: what actually shapes Pakistan’s threat perception is the belief that India is methodically acquiring and entrenching hydro-coercion as a durable capability. Moreover, Pakistan fears that India intends to exploit upstream leverage to constrain Islamabad’s room to maneuver in any future negotiations on other issues.
This perceptual shift recalibrates the entire deterrence equation. For a state whose agriculture, food security, hydropower, and demographic survival are structurally tied to the Indus basin, politicized water ceases to be merely an environmental grievance and becomes an existential vulnerability. The real danger lies not in immediate scarcity but in the widening gap between how New Delhi and Islamabad interpret the same facts. India appears to view hydro-coercion as calibrated pressure intended to stay below the threshold of war. Pakistan increasingly reads it as an existential threat, lowering its own escalatory threshold and widening the space in which nuclear signaling becomes thinkable. It is this gap in perception, more than any gap in material capability, that now constitutes the region’s most volatile fault line.
To be sure, New Delhi has never framed its actions in these terms. India suspended the treaty after the April 2025 terror attack on tourists in Indian-administered Kashmir, which it blamed on Pakistan, and has said the “abeyance” will last only until Islamabad credibly and irrevocably ends its support for cross-border militancy. India’s foreign ministry reiterated this position just days after the Islamabad seminar on IWT.
From New Delhi’s perspective, this is coercive diplomacy calibrated to stay well short of war: a pressure tactic tied to counterterrorism, not a rehearsal for river warfare. However, intent does not determine how an adversary reacts; perception does. It is precisely that asymmetry between an instrument India considers proportionate and one Pakistan considers civilizational that makes this dynamic so combustible.
Nonetheless, India’s upstream advantage over Pakistan is offset by its downstream vulnerability to China, which controls the headwaters of the Brahmaputra and the Sutlej. Given Beijing’s decades-long strategic partnership with Islamabad, China is unlikely to remain indifferent if Indian hydro-coercion seriously threatens Pakistan’s water security. With the same upstream leverage over India that India holds over Pakistan, China would have both the means and the incentive to respond, turning a bilateral water dispute into a triangular strategic contest.
Victor Gao, vice president of Beijing’s Center for China and Globalization, made the point at the Islamabad seminar on IWT, arguing that India is not really an upstream country at all and invoking an old proverb: don’t do unto others what you would not want done unto you.
A parallel dynamic is emerging along Pakistan’s western frontier. Afghanistan is expanding its use of the Kabul River through dams and irrigation projects, including the India-backed Shahtoot dam, which Pakistani officials fear could significantly cut flows into the country. Unbound by any water-sharing treaty with Islamabad and with the Taliban government cultivating warmer ties with New Delhi, Kabul may find strategic alignment with India more attractive than a cooperative water regime. Rather than treating the Kabul basin as shared, Afghanistan could use unilateral upstream development as leverage of its own, squeezing Pakistan’s water supply from the west even as it comes under hydrological pressure from the east.
Taken together, these dynamics suggest that India’s weaponization of the Indus is unlikely to stay contained as a bilateral affair. It risks triggering a cascading cycle of tit-for-tat hydro-coercion across South Asia, in which dams and diversion projects increasingly replace missiles as the currency of coercive signaling.
The Indus has become a proxy for existential threat in South Asia’s nuclear rivalry, making its politicization dangerous.
India needs to reckon with the fact that turning off the taps on Pakistan risks miscalculation between two nuclear-armed rivals locked in an already fragile deterrence equilibrium. Pakistan should also show a willingness to discuss mutually beneficial water-sharing arrangements and, in fact, be ready for broad dialogue on contentious issues. Meanwhile, New Delhi should honor its binding obligations under the IWT to avoid inadvertent escalation.
Nonetheless, patching the IWT alone will not be enough. With the Indus, Kabul, and Brahmaputra basins now bleeding into a single strategic problem, what the region needs is a broader water-sharing framework that sets clear, verifiable parameters for upstream development across all four states.
