India Is Turning Water Into A Weapon: The World Can’t Look Away – OpEd

In the early hours of May 7, 2025, Indian fighter jets struck multiple sites deep inside Pakistani territory. Among the reported targets was the Neelum–Jhelum Hydropower Plant: a major civilian energy facility fed by the Indus River system.

This wasn’t just a message in response to the April 22 Pahalgam attack, where 26 civilians were killed. This was something else entirely: the militarization of shared water infrastructure. And it came days after something just as dangerous–India’s unilateral suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT), one of the longest-surviving resource-sharing agreements in the world.

The Indus Waters Treaty was signed in 1960 through World Bank mediation and has been one of the very few stable agreements between India and Pakistan, surviving three wars and endless political volatility. It divides the Indus River system between the two countries, giving Pakistan control of the western rivers–Indus, Jhelum, and Chenab–and India control of the eastern rivers.

This framework has kept water out of the conflict, even when almost everything else between the two neighbors fell apart. Until now.

India’s decision to “hold the treaty in abeyance” upended decades of precedent. Its justification? That the Pahalgam attack warranted a full-spectrum response, from airstrikes to diplomatic freezes to leveraging water as pressure.

But this goes well beyond one terror incident.

Pakistan is a downstream country. It relies on the Indus River system for nearly 80% of its agricultural output, drinking water for tens of millions, and most of its hydroelectric generation. Its water infrastructure–dams, canals, power stations–was built around the guarantees of the IWT. When India shuts down communication, suspends obligations, and targets hydropower sites, it is sending a clear signal: this lifeline is no longer off-limits.

And here’s why the rest of the world, especially the United States, should be paying attention.

The IWT isn’t just any treaty. It is one of the few examples of sustained cooperation over a critical resource in a volatile region. Its breakdown sets a grim precedent not only for South Asia, but for any region where shared rivers flow across borders. If India can suspend a World Bank–backed agreement unilaterally and then escalate militarily without real consequence, so can others.

From the Mekong to the Nile to the Tigris-Euphrates, the message will be heard loud and clear: treaties are optional, and water can be turned into leverage. This unraveling also carries significant implications for nuclear security. Escalating tensions over a resource as critical as water in a region with two nuclear-armed states dramatically increases the risk of miscalculation and unintended conflict, a scenario that should deeply concern Washington’s strategic planners.

Washington has a stake here: both historical and strategic.

The United States was central to the treaty’s creation, backing the World Bank’s efforts in the 1950s as part of a broader post-colonial development strategy. Since then, both Democratic and Republican administrations have viewed the IWT as a rare success story: an example of how diplomacy and third-party guarantees can de-risk an otherwise unstable region.

But now, that story is falling apart.

India, as a strategic partner, is betting that its role in counterbalancing China will shield it from criticism. But the weaponization of shared water in a region where nuclear tensions already run high, cannot be shrugged off. If the global order is to mean anything, treaties and civilian infrastructure must remain protected, regardless of political winds.

What’s more, this conflict is unfolding in the middle of a climate emergency.

The glaciers that feed the Indus River system are melting at an alarming rate. A recent report by ICIMOD warns that up to two-thirds of Himalayan glaciers could vanish by 2100, making river flows more volatile, flood risks higher, and droughts more frequent. Pakistan, already one of the world’s most water-stressed countries, is now facing the very real possibility of shortages in both rural and urban centers; not because of nature alone, but because of upstream policy.

That’s a recipe for mass displacement, food insecurity, and internal instability: all of which can quickly spill beyond borders.

So what should the United States do?

First, it must re-engage through trusted backchannels and push for the full reinstatement of the Indus Waters Treaty. This isn’t just about India and Pakistan. It’s about whether international mediation, treaty frameworks, and multilateral institutions can still function when tensions run high.

Second, Washington should support an impartial investigation into the Pahalgam attack. India has provided no public evidence tying Pakistan to the incident. Without verification, escalation risks being built on narrative rather than fact; a dangerous prospect in a nuclear neighborhood.

Third, the U.S. must send a clear signal: targeting civilian infrastructure violates international norms and humanitarian law. The deliberate erosion of those norms anywhere risks weakening their enforcement everywhere.

This is not about undermining India or siding with Pakistan. It’s about protecting the idea that in a global order, some red lines must hold, especially when they involve the foundations of life: water, food, and energy.

There’s still time to pull back. But that window is closing fast. If this becomes the new normal–strikes on dams, treaty collapses, water as a bargaining chip–we will look back on the Indus not just as a river, but as the place where the floodgates of ecological warfare were opened.

The U.S. helped build this treaty. It cannot now stand by as it’s dismantled.