Hydro-Hegemony’s Silent Victim: Balochistan in the Crosshairs

Wania Tahir Blogger ibcenglish

The escalation in South Asia’s hydro-politics has reached a fever pitch, signaling a shift that could fundamentally alter the region’s stability. When New Delhi issued a formal notice to modify the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) earlier this year, the diplomatic alarms rang loudest in Islamabad and Lahore. The ensuing discourse has predictably centered on the agrarian heartland of Punjab, the breadbasket that relies heavily on the Chenab and Jhelum rivers, or on the intricate legal tussle over the Kishanganga and Ratle hydropower projects. Yet, in this high-stakes geopolitical maneuvering, the most vulnerable stakeholder remains largely absent from the mainstream analysis: Balochistan.

While the Indus Basin is often viewed through the lens of Punjab’s wheat fields or Sindh’s mango orchards, Balochistan is the system’s “tail-ender”—the final, parched recipient of a hydrological chain that is now under severe threat. As India adopts a more aggressive “blood and water” doctrine, ostensibly to maximize its storage and utilization of the Western Rivers, the shockwaves are not merely legal or diplomatic; they are existential for Pakistan’s largest and most arid province. The threat to Balochistan is not a direct Indian diversion at the border, but a devastating domino effect where reduced flows upstream translate into total desiccation downstream.

The Hydrological Chain Reaction

To comprehend the severity of the threat, one must look beyond the Line of Control and towards the barrages of Sindh. Balochistan possesses no major independent river system linked to the treaty; its agricultural lifelines are the “leftovers” of the Indus system. The province relies almost entirely on the Pat Feeder Canal, fed by the Guddu Barrage, and the Kirthar Canal, fed by the Sukkur Barrage. The mechanics of this vulnerability are brutal and governed by gravity.

India’s construction of run-of-the-river hydroelectric projects on the Chenab and Jhelum allows it to manipulate the timing of water flows. While the IWT technically permits such projects within specific engineering parameters, the sheer scale of the new infrastructure gives New Delhi the lever to “fill” its reservoirs during critical sowing seasons. When flows in the Chenab drop, Punjab draws more heavily from the Indus to compensate for its own deficits. Consequently, the water reaching the Guddu and Sukkur barrages in Sindh diminishes.

In this zero-sum game of scarcity, the laws of physics collide with the harsh realities of Pakistan’s internal water distribution. When Sindh faces a shortage, the water level at the canal heads drops below the required gauge. The Pat Feeder and Kirthar canals, located at the very tail end of the distribution network, are the first to run dry. For the farmers of Nasirabad and Jaffarabad—the only canal-irrigated “green belt” in Balochistan—India’s upstream maneuvering does not mean a mere percentage reduction in yield; it means the difference between a harvest and a dust bowl.

The situation is further compounded by the precarious status of the Kachhi Canal project. Designed as a monumental engineering feat to irrigate over 700,000 acres in Dera Bugti and surrounding areas, the canal was meant to be a “peace dividend,” integrating the restless province into the national agricultural grid and providing livelihoods to thousands. However, the Kachhi Canal depends entirely on surplus flows from the Indus. If India’s new water strategy succeeds in utilizing the “permissible storage” of the Western Rivers to its absolute limit—estimated at 3.6 million acre-feet (MAF)—that surplus evaporates. The Kachhi Canal risks becoming a dry concrete monument to a water treaty that could no longer deliver, effectively killing the economic hope of a region that desperately needs it.

A Crisis of Two Fronts

The fallout of this hydro-hegemony extends far beyond economics; it exacerbates Pakistan’s internal fault lines. Water scarcity is a known threat multiplier, and in Balochistan, the threat environment is already critically saturated. The province is grappling with a fragile security situation, and the narrative of deprivation is a potent recruitment tool for those who wish to destabilize the state.

When water stops flowing to the tail-end districts, it inflames inter-provincial tensions that have simmered for decades. We have already witnessed the acrimony between Sindh and Balochistan over water theft and share distribution at the Indus River System Authority (IRSA). Balochistan frequently complains that it does not receive its sanctioned share under the 1991 Water Apportionment Accord. India’s strategic squeeze on the Indus acts as an external accelerant to these internal fires. By reducing the overall size of the pie, New Delhi forces Pakistan’s provinces into a fiercer, more desperate competition for the crumbs.

This creates a dangerous scenario where the state’s inability to provide basic water security validates the grievances of the Baloch populace. The drying up of the Pat Feeder Canal is not viewed locally as just an irrigation failure; it is interpreted as a governance failure. It forces agrarian communities to migrate to already overcrowded urban centers like Quetta or Karachi, creating new pockets of poverty and unrest. The “weaponization of water,” a term that is no longer hyperbolic, is therefore not just a breach of international law; it is a direct assault on the socio-political stability of Pakistan’s periphery.

Furthermore, this water insecurity jeopardizes the broader developmental goals of the region. The grand vision of regional connectivity and economic zones, which hinges on the stability of Balochistan, cannot function in a vacuum of basic resources. Gwadar is often touted as the crown jewel of infrastructure and regional trade, but the hinterland that supports it cannot survive on seawater alone. The stability of the trade corridors running through the province depends on the quiescence and prosperity of the local population, which in turn depends on their economic survival. A water-starved Balochistan is a volatile Balochistan, and volatility is the ultimate enemy of investment.

Beyond the Indus: A National Imperative

As we navigate the closing months of 2025, the illusion that the Indus Waters Treaty is a permanent, unshakeable firewall against conflict has been shattered. India’s refusal to engage with the Court of Arbitration and its unilateral moves to modify the treaty signal a new era of hydro-bullying. Pakistan’s response must evolve beyond the standard legal protests at The Hague. The defense of the Indus waters must be reframed as a matter of internal national security, with Balochistan’s stability at its core.

The state must urgently invest in internal water efficiency. We cannot demand water justice from an upper riparian while wasting nearly half of our available flows due to poor infrastructure. Lining the canals in the Nasirabad division, adopting drip irrigation, and strictly enforcing water distribution accords are no longer optional reforms—they are survival tactics.

Moreover, Pakistan’s diplomatic offensive must highlight the humanitarian cost in Balochistan. The international community often views the Kashmir dispute as the primary flashpoint of the water crisis, but the slow violence of induced drought in Balochistan is a human rights crisis in the making. If the rhetoric of water nationalism continues to dictate policy in New Delhi, the thirst will be felt most acutely not in the lush fields of Punjab, but in the arid expanses of Pakistan’s southwest.

In the end, water does not recognize borders, treaties, or political rhetoric; it recognizes gravity and geography. Balochistan sits at the wrong end of both. As the Indus Waters Treaty faces its sternest test in six decades, policymakers in Islamabad must remember that saving the river is not just about agriculture—it is about saving the federation. The silent victim can no longer afford to be ignored.

About the Author: The author is a resident of Quetta, Balochistan, and is associated with the Global Strategic Institute for Sustainable Development – GSISD, she can be reached at waniatahir23@gmail.com  

 

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