Prime Minister Modi’s statement that “blood and water cannot flow together” after holding the Indus Waters Treaty in abeyance was more than rhetoric; it was a signal that water itself is being weaponised. This unilateral suspension undermines international law and destabilises a treaty that has, for decades, kept conflict at bay.

Rising nationalist rhetoric has increasingly strained cooperation over the Indus Waters Treaty. After the 2016 Uri attack, the idea of using water as a weapon was openly discussed. This culminated in April 2025, when India suspended the treaty after the Pahalgam attack, citing security concerns. Such politicisation erodes the treaty’s neutrality and weakens the Permanent Indus Commission. Today, polarised narratives blaming floods on India or justifying water cuts as counterterrorism make technical negotiations nearly impossible.

India’s unilateral “abeyance” is a breach under international law. Article III grants Pakistan unrestricted use of the western rivers, and Article XII(4) allows termination only through another ratified treaty. By acting unilaterally, Prime Minister Modi’s cabinet, being the executive, sidestepped this requirement, undermining both treaty law and democratic principles of separation of powers. The Vienna Convention offers no cover. Terrorism lies outside its scope, and foreseeable factors like climate change do not justify suspension. India’s move contravenes pacta sunt servanda, reinforcing Pakistan’s strong legal position.

Even eminent international lawyer Ahmer Bilal Soofi has argued that “India has used the word abeyance and there is no such provision to hold the treaty in abeyance”. By contrast, Brahma Chellaney’s claim that India is within its rights is legally baseless. Denying Pakistan access to its lower riparian share not only violates international law but risks harming India’s global image. It also sets a dangerous precedent. If India undermines lower riparian rights here, it weakens its own position vis-à-vis China, where it is downstream on the Brahmaputra and Indus.

China’s expanding hydro-political influence magnifies the stakes. Though not a party to the IWT, India’s suspension of flows to Pakistan could affect Chinese projects on the Jhelum, drawing Beijing’s concern. Meanwhile, China’s Yarlung Tsangpo dam threatens millions in Assam by altering Brahmaputra flows, and with no water-sharing treaty, Beijing holds unilateral control. As an upper riparian, China also dominates the Sutlej and Indus sources. Pakistan’s CPEC ties and joint water projects give it leverage, while China’s geostrategic dominance makes it a decisive actor in this crisis.

Water must remain a lifeline, not a weapon. Renewal, not rivalry, is the only path forward

Water must remain a lifeline, not a weapon. Renewal, not rivalry, is the only path forward

Beyond legalities, the suspension strikes at human survival. Farmers in Punjab face uncertainty over irrigation, urban centres risk water shortages, and floods devastate vulnerable communities when cooperation breaks down. Water insecurity fuels displacement, deepens poverty, and heightens regional instability. What begins as a breach of treaty law quickly translates into hunger, displacement, and instability across South Asia. The Indus, once a lifeline, risks becoming a lever of punishment. Politicising water means politicising food, health, and livelihoods, turning survival itself into collateral damage.

Faced with this quagmire, Pakistan’s path forward must be hybrid and pragmatic. Pakistan’s water vulnerability, compounded by climate change and limited storage, underscores its dependence on the western rivers. Reviving the Indus Waters Treaty through dialogue and legal channels remains possible, though the Permanent Indus Commission has been reduced to a symbolic role. Strengthening its mandate or introducing climate-sensitive reforms could reframe water as a shared survival issue rather than a zero-sum contest.

Here, transparent data sharing is critical. Hydrological data on river flows, glacier melt, and flood forecasting must be exchanged in real time to build trust and reduce suspicion. Without shared data, every flood becomes politicised and every drought weaponised. With it, both sides can plan irrigation, disaster relief, and climate adaptation more effectively. Pakistan should press for a formalised data-sharing mechanism within the IWT, backed by independent verification, so that science and not suspicion guides water management.

By positioning water cooperation as a matter of climate adaptation and disaster risk management, Pakistan can push for technical reactivation of treaty mechanisms without forcing India into overt political concessions. This approach allows it to present itself as a provider of global public goods, aligning its domestic vulnerabilities with international priorities on climate resilience and humanitarian security.

India’s unilateral suspension of the treaty in 2025 exposed the fragility of institutional resilience under nationalist pressures, making cooperative upgrades unlikely. Pakistan must therefore pursue a hybrid strategy: defend its legal case internationally, salvage limited cooperation through the PIC, and invest in domestic water resilience to reduce vulnerability.

The IWT now functions less as a shield against conflict than as a fragile framework for managing rivalry. The lesson of 2025 is that treaties endure only through constant recalibration of law, politics, and diplomacy. For Pakistan, the path forward lies in converting vulnerability into leverage by engaging trilaterally, enhancing resilience, and promoting transparent data-sharing. In doing so, the IWT can be reaffirmed as a living framework for navigating turbulent waters, rather than a relic of the past.

Water must remain a lifeline, not a weapon. Renewal, not rivalry, is the only path forward.

© The Friday Times