The mother of all mega-dams is China’s hidden weapon in the Himalayas

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A fisherman sits next to his boat along the river Brahmaputra in Guwahati, India. AP Photo.

By Brahma Chellaney, The Hill

New disclosures reveal that China’s planned super-dam on the Yarlung Tsangpo — the world’s highest-altitude major river, better known as the Brahmaputra — is not a single structure. Rather, it is a a vast, tunnel-linked hydropower and water-diversion complex, spanning roughly 150 kilometers through the Himalayas.

The project would transform an internationally shared river, originating in water-rich Tibet, into a strategic instrument of state power.

For years, China’s super-dam was discussed as a single, if colossal, piece of infrastructure. That description is now obsolete. What Beijing is constructing on the so-called “Everest of Rivers,” near Tibet’s border with India, is not just the largest dam ever attempted. It is an extensive subterranean network designed to give China effective command over the river before it reaches any downstream country.

A cascade of barrages, reservoirs and power stations — linked by giant tunnels bored through the world’s highest mountain range — will together form a titanic, integrated hydropower system.

It remains unclear whether some of the impounded water will be diverted into what Beijing calls the Great South-North Water Diversion Project. While the eastern and central routes — already operational — transfer water from China’s southern rivers to its arid north, including Beijing, the controversial western line aims to reroute waters from Tibet-originating international rivers that sustain hundreds of millions of people across South and Southeast Asia.

The new project is centered near the Great Bend of the Brahmaputra, where the river makes a dramatic U-turn around a Himalayan peak before plunging toward India. Over a stretch of just 30 miles, the river drops some 6,500 feet — one of the steepest descents of any major river on Earth.

China plans to exploit this extraordinary gradient not with a single concrete wall, but by diverting the river through multiple tunnels, some extending more than 12 miles, to feed a cascade of five power stations. Their combined generating capacity is estimated at over 60 gigawatts — almost three times that of the Three Gorges Dam, currently the world’s largest.

This design fundamentally alters the risk calculus for downstream states. Beijing has described the project as “run-of-the-river,” a term meant to reassure neighboring countries that water storage — and therefore Chinese control — will be limited. But the scale of tunneling and the interlinked reservoirs undermines that claim. Even without massive surface reservoirs, the ability to divert, withhold or abruptly release enormous volumes of water through subterranean channels gives China de facto control over the river’s flow just before it leaves Tibet, which Beijing annexed in 1951.

By occupying Tibet, China effectively redrew the water map of much of Asia. The Tibetan Plateau is the source of ten major river systems that together sustain nearly one-fifth of the world’s population. China’s intensive dam-building and resource extraction across the plateau since the 1990s thus poses a growing risk to Asian water security, ecological stability and regional peace. Control over the headwaters of key transboundary rivers confers immense leverage, turning water into a potential geopolitical tool and raising the specter of environmental disaster and conflict.

Nothing illustrates these dangers more starkly than the current gargantuan project, which officially began in 2025, although evidence suggests preparatory work started much earlier. What is taking shape is, in strategic terms, a hydrological weapon system. It is capable of degrading fragile ecosystems while giving China unprecedented coercive leverage over South Asia — especially India.

There is also a profound seismic gamble. The project lies in one of the world’s most active earthquake zones, where the Indian and Eurasian tectonic plates collide.

Geologists warn of reservoir-triggered seismicity, in which the immense weight of stored water increases stress along fault lines, even if the statistical probability of a major quake remains uncertain. A partial failure, caused by an earthquake or a massive landslide into a reservoir, could unleash a cascading flood racing toward India’s densely populated Assam Valley, with catastrophic consequences for downstream communities, cities and infrastructure.

What makes this project uniquely destabilizing is not only its scale but its opacity. China has released no meaningful technical details, including information on design parameters or water-storage capacity. The project has proceeded without environmental impact assessments open to international scrutiny and without consultation with downstream states that stand to bear the greatest risks.

This is a textbook case of hydrological hegemony: unilateral control over a shared lifeline exercised by an upstream power.

The international response has been strikingly muted. Governments that rightly scrutinize Chinese ports, telecommunications networks and supply chains have largely treated this mega-project as a regional matter rather than a global concern. That is a mistake. Water insecurity is a well-documented accelerator of conflict, forced migration and state fragility. A project capable of degrading ecosystems and affecting tens of millions of people downstream implicates not only Asian stability but the international order itself.

China’s Brahmaputra mega-system should therefore be understood for what it is: an unprecedented experiment in high-altitude engineering, ecological transformation and geopolitical leverage rolled into one. It is a strategic instrument whose consequences will flow far beyond the Himalayas.

Brahma Chellaney is the author of nine books, including the award-winning “Water: Asia’s New Battleground.”

US Myanmar policy is helping China — it must change

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Trump’s presidency has been animated by a relentless urge to pry loose the resources of other nations. Yet in a telling contradiction, he has preserved a Biden-era policy of isolating Myanmar—now China’s largest external source of heavy rare earth elements. The result has been perverse but predictable: by constricting alternative supplies, Washington has only deepened Beijing’s near-monopoly over rare-earth supply chains, strengthening the leverage that has repeatedly forced Trump to tread carefully around China

AP Photo

By Brahma Chellaney, The Hill

Myanmar’s generals have begun staging their long-promised national elections — the first since they seized power in 2021. Their aim is not to restore democracy, but to entrench military rule through civilian proxies. Conducted in three stages and devoid of credible opposition, the vote is merely designed to launder the junta’s legitimacy at home and abroad.

For Washington, these sham elections should prompt more than ritual moral condemnation. They highlight how the U.S., by working to isolate Myanmar through stringent sanctions, has forfeited strategic leverage in a resource-rich country where China’s influence is steadily expanding.

In a country of mounting strategic importance,, U.S. policy should aim to shape outcomes, not to remain a bystander as Beijing steadily consolidates its foothold in Myanmar and greedily exploits its resources.

China is the primary beneficiary of Myanmar’s rare-earth minerals and is deeply involved in the extraction of other resources, including jade, natural gas, oil, and timber. Most consequentially, Beijing relies on Myanmar as its largest external source of heavy rare earth elements, using these imports to underpin its dominance over global rare-earth supply chains.

As Beijing increasingly weaponizes its control over rare-earth supplies, President Trump has sought to cut deals with other countries, to loosen China’s chokehold on the American economy. That objective alone should prompt a review of U.S. policy toward Myanmar, largely shaped under former President Joe Biden, of isolating one of the world’s largest suppliers of rare earths. For it only keeps strengthening China’s hand.

The U.S. has lost ground in Myanmar largely because Biden-era policy toward that geopolitically pivotal country followed a well-worn script: sweeping sanctions, diplomatic isolation and “nonlethal” aid for rebel groups fighting the junta. The aim was to coerce the military to relinquish power and restore democratic rule.

As the fifth anniversary of the coup approaches in February, the failure of this policy is unmistakable. The generals remain firmly in control. The humanitarian toll of the internal conflict has mounted, and China has emerged as the main strategic beneficiary.

As the Trump administration charts its foreign-policy course, it should resist the temptation to double down on this failed approach. Instead, it should pursue calibrated, interest-based engagement with Myanmar — a country whose strategic value will only grow amid intensifying U.S.-China rivalry, global supply-chain realignment and the race for critical minerals.

The reality on the ground has shifted in ways that U.S. policymakers often are slow to comprehend. Myanmar’s rebel forces, which made dramatic gains in 2023 and early 2024, are now largely on the defensive. Their reversal owes less to battlefield weakness than to geopolitics. China, alarmed by the prospect of state collapse along its southern periphery, executed a sharp pivot — pressuring rebels (some trained and armed by Beijing itself) into ceasefires and reasserting its role as the ultimate power broker. Beijing’s objective is clear: stability on its own terms.

Yet Washington’s response remains frozen in time. By treating Myanmar solely as a human-rights problem rather than a strategic arena, the U.S. has ceded influence by default. Broad sanctions have weakened Myanmar’s economy but not its rulers, pushing the generals closer to Beijing — even though the country’s fiercely nationalistic military has long harbored deep suspicion of China. Meanwhile, U.S. allies in Asia have opted for pragmatic engagement with the junta to contain instability, refugee flows and illicit cross-border activity.

Engagement need not mean endorsement. The U.S. not only engages with China — the world’s largest, strongest and longest-surviving autocracy — but cooperates with it where interests converge.

The contrast with U.S. policy toward Myanmar’s neighbors is striking. Washington props up or works pragmatically with military-linked governments in Bangladesh and Pakistan, yet pursues a regime-change strategy in Myanmar that fuels proxy warfare and regional spillover. Such inconsistency undermines U.S. credibility and complicates relations with Asian partners that prioritize stability over ideology.

At a time when the U.S. is scrambling to diversify supply chains away from China, why should it exclude itself from Myanmar?

A calibrated strategy would replace blanket isolation with selective pressure and conditional cooperation. Sanctions should target individuals and entities directly responsible for abuses, while easing restrictions that impede humanitarian relief, economic stabilization and diplomatic access. Dialogue — bilateral or via regional intermediaries — would give Washington a seat at the table China currently dominates.

History indicates that sanctions without engagement rarely deliver political breakthroughs. More often, punitive isolation empowers external patrons willing to ignore norms altogether.

Myanmar today is not merely a domestic tragedy; it is a geopolitical battleground. Continued U.S. disengagement leaves China free to shape outcomes, lock in infrastructure corridors, secure mineral access and entrench itself as the indispensable external actor. Strategic space, once lost, will be difficult to recover.

The election will not legitimize Myanmar’s rulers. But it should legitimize a long-overdue rethink in Washington. The Trump administration has an opportunity to reshape policy in a way that advances U.S. interests, constrains China’s influence and reclaims leverage in a country that will matter more and more in the years ahead.

Brahma Chellaney is the author of nine books, including the award-winning “Water: Asia’s New Battleground.”

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China’s Himalayan mega-dam is a global threat

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The largest dam ever conceived symbolizes China’s bid, from oil to water, for 21st-century dominance

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Brahma Chellaney

Nikkei Asia

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China is about to upend the world’s hydrological balance — with consequences as far-reaching as climate change itself.

Its $168 billion Himalayan super-dam represents not merely the world’s costliest infrastructure project but also one of its riskiest. What Beijing portrays as an engineering marvel is in fact an ecological disaster in the making.

The dam is being constructed on the Yarlung Zangbo River (also known as the Brahmaputra), just before it curves into India. The project’s significance was underscored by the fact that Chinese Premier Li Qiang, flanked by senior officials and leaders of major state-owned enterprises, formally announced the groundbreaking in July, although satellite imagery had indicated activity at the site for some time.

The last time a Chinese leader inaugurated a dam project was 1994, when then-Premier Li Peng presided over the groundbreaking ceremony for the Three Gorges Dam on the Yangtze River. That symbolic parallel underscores the magnitude of the Brahmaputra mega-dam — an undertaking that will surpass the Three Gorges in scale, ambition and peril.

The Three Gorges Dam was initially celebrated as a modern wonder but is now widely recognized as an environmental and social disaster: It displaced more than a million people, triggered recurrent landslides, degraded water quality and disturbed seismic stability. Its mammoth reservoir has even slightly slowed the Earth’s rotation.

China’s new megaproject is in an even more fragile setting: one of the world’s most seismically active zones, straddling a heavily militarized frontier where Beijing claims India’s sprawling Arunachal Pradesh state as “South Tibet.” Constructing the world’s largest dam atop a geological fault line is more than reckless — it is a calculated gamble with catastrophic potential. Any collapse, whether from structural weakness or reservoir-induced seismicity, would devastate India’s northeast and Bangladesh, placing tens of millions at risk.

The dam, designed to generate nearly three times the electricity of the Three Gorges Dam, was approved by the National People’s Congress in March 2021. Yet the project remained cloaked in secrecy until the recent announcement, true to Beijing’s pattern of concealing work on major dams along international rivers until commercially available satellite imagery makes it impossible to hide.

The Brahmaputra, unlike most rivers, is an ecological lifeline, sustaining one of the world’s most biodiverse regions as it descends sharply from Himalayan heights to form the longest and steepest canyon on Earth — twice as deep as America’s Grand Canyon. It is here that China is constructing the behemoth dam to tap the unparalleled concentration of river energy.

Originating in Tibet’s mountain springs, the world’s highest-altitude major river flows through India and Bangladesh, supporting agriculture, fisheries and dense populations. Its annual floods, while destructive, flush toxins, recharge groundwater and deposit nutrient-rich sediment vital for farming. The super-dam will upend this rhythm, trapping silt, shrinking Bangladesh’s delta already imperiled by rising seas and depriving Indian farmers of natural fertilization cycles. Saltwater intrusion and catastrophic floods would become more frequent.

But Beijing sees water not just as a resource; it sees it as power. By placing a mega-dam just before the river leaves Tibet, China would acquire a hydraulic chokehold over hundreds of millions downstream.

Control over oil once defined global power. And, in the 21st century, control over transboundary rivers may prove just as decisive. With the dam, China would hold the ability to weaponize water without firing a shot.

The dam’s enormous price tag reflects not just ambition to generate enormous amounts of electricity but a determination to cement China’s hydro-hegemony through dominance over Asia’s lifelines. This would give Beijing the same strategic leverage over water as OPEC once enjoyed over oil — but with far greater immediacy for the daily survival of populations.

In fact, since annexing Tibet in 1951, China has become the source of cross-border river flows to more countries than any other upstream power. It has built more large dams than the rest of the world combined, with its spree since the 1990s focused on international rivers. Its 11 giant dams on the Mekong have already wreaked havoc downstream, deepening droughts and undercutting livelihoods in Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam.

Yet Beijing continues to reject any form of water sharing. It has signed no water-sharing treaty with any neighbor, nor joined the 1997 U.N. Watercourses Convention — the only global treaty governing shared rivers — preferring instead to assert “indisputable sovereignty” over all waters within its borders.

The stakes extend beyond Asia. Tibet is warming twice as fast as the global average, accelerating glacier melt and permafrost thaw. With its towering height rising into the troposphere, the Tibetan Plateau shapes the Asian monsoons, stabilizes climate across Eurasia and influences the Northern Hemisphere’s atmospheric general circulation — the vast system of winds that helps define different climate zones by transporting warm air from the equator toward higher latitudes.

Tampering with the plateau’s hydrology is not just a regional gamble; it is a planetary risk. Altered river flows from Tibet will ripple outward into weather systems, food security and even migration patterns far beyond Asia.

If Beijing succeeds in monopolizing transboundary rivers, other states may be tempted to follow, eroding fragile cooperative frameworks elsewhere — from the Nile Basin to the Tigris-Euphrates. The mega-dam is thus not merely Asia’s problem but the world’s. The precedent it sets could destabilize water security worldwide at a moment when droughts and extreme weather are already straining societies.

This gargantuan dam is a geopolitical and ecological catastrophe in waiting, with its dangers already coming into view. Silence is complicity: The international community must press China to respect international water norms.

Brahma Chellaney, a professor of strategic studies at the independent New Delhi-based Centre for Policy Research and fellow at the Robert Bosch Academy in Berlin, is the author of nine books, including “Water: Asia’s New Battleground,” which won the Bernard Schwartz Book Award.

China’s Himalayan megadam poses a global threat. Where is the world’s outrage?

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The world ignored warnings about the Three Gorges Dam until it became an environmental nightmare. It cannot afford to repeat that mistake with China’s super-dam near the Indian border — a project whose ecological fallout will ripple globally.

Brahma Chellaney, Special to The Globe and Mail

A man fishes on the banks of the river Brahmaputra, where China is constructing the world’s largest dam. BIJU BORO/AFP/Getty Images

Last month, China officially acknowledged that it is constructing the world’s largest dam, on the Yarlung Zangbo River (better known as the Brahmaputra) in Tibet, just a few kilometres from the Indian border.

Though satellite imagery had suggested activity at the site for some time, Premier Li Qiang‘s July announcement marked Beijing’s first open admission of the megaproject, which will have far-reaching environmental, geopolitical and hydrological consequences across Asia and beyond. For proof, just look at the current largest dam in the world, China’s Three Gorges Dam. It has proved to be an environmental nightmare; its mammoth reservoir has triggered landslides, increased seismic activity and even slightly slowed Earth’s rotation.

One would have expected such a revelation to trigger strong international reactions. Yet, despite the dam’s extraordinary implications, the world has stayed silent.

China’s new super-dam seeks to exploit the immense drop in elevation as the Brahmaputra descends from the Himalayas before curving into India. This geologically unstable, ecologically sensitive zone lies close to the heavily militarized border with India’s Arunachal Pradesh state – a territory almost three times the size of Taiwan that China claims as its own.

Thanks to its 1951 annexation of the resource-rich Tibetan Plateau – the source of 10 major Asian rivers – China is the origin of cross-border flows to more countries than any other nation. Since the 1990s, its frenzy of dam-building has shifted from internal rivers to international ones, without consultation or transparency.

China already boasts more large dams than the rest of the world combined, and it has emerged as the main obstacle to institutionalized co-operation on shared water resources in Asia. It has no water-sharing treaty with any downstream neighbour because it asserts “indisputable sovereignty” over waters within its borders, including claiming the right to divert as much as it wishes. In this way, water is not merely a resource for China, but a strategic instrument.

The havoc caused downstream by China’s 11 giant dams on the Mekong – which sustains Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam – has not deterred it from building more on that river. Against this backdrop, China’s colossal Brahmaputra project threatens to accelerate environmental degradation on the Tibetan Plateau, which is warming at twice the global average rate. That degradation could, in turn, disrupt Asian monsoons, weather and climate patterns.

With its towering height rising into the troposphere, the Tibetan Plateau profoundly shapes these patterns, influencing even the Northern Hemisphere’s atmospheric general circulation – the vast system of winds that transports warm air from the equator toward higher latitudes, helping to define different climate zones.

Tibet’s environmental fragility already has planetary implications, including accelerating biodiversity loss. Faster glacial retreat and permafrost thaw threaten to undermine the plateau’s role as Asia’s “water tower.”

Besides destabilizing a delicate Himalayan ecosystem, China’s super-dam – located on a geologic fault line – stands out as the world’s riskiest megaproject. It represents a potential water bomb for millions downstream. The Brahmaputra is a lifeline for northeastern India and for Bangladesh, the world’s most densely populated major country, and the super-dam will disrupt natural river flows, threatening food and water security for millions downstream.

In an era of increasing water stress and climate volatility, China can now deploy water as an instrument of coercion. The new dam will hand Beijing a potent new lever against India, its strategic rival. Should bilateral tensions with India rise, China could regulate or disrupt flows – whether by withholding water during the dry season, releasing excess water in flood season, or altering ecosystems. Even without hostile intent, unilateral control of river flow introduces long-term uncertainties for downstream communities, infrastructure planning and disaster management.

Yet India, in the absence of credible diplomatic options, has responded to China’s acknowledgment with restraint, voicing “concern” while stressing the “need for utmost transparency.” Other powers, meanwhile, have remained conspicuously silent, wary of offending Beijing. Such silence may appear low-risk today, but as the world’s largest dam rises in the fragile Himalayas, inaction carries long-term costs – not just for Asia’s water security, but also for the planet’s ecological balance.

The international community ignored warnings about the Three Gorges Dam until its consequences became undeniable. It should not repeat that mistake. By averting its gaze now, the world risks not only destabilizing South Asia’s water and food security but also undermining the environmental stability of an entire continent – with ripple effects that will be felt worldwide.

Brahma Chellaney is a geostrategist and the author of nine books, including the award-winning Water: Asia’s New Battleground.

China’s super-dam is an ecological and geopolitical time bomb

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By Brahma Chellaney, The Hill

China has built more dams than any other country and more large dams than the rest of the world combined. This month, it officially acknowledged construction of the biggest dam ever conceived in human history — although satellite imagery suggests the groundwork began much earlier, following the megaproject’s approval by China’s rubber-stamp parliament in 2021.

Located on the Brahmaputra River just before it curves into India, this super-dam is being developed with little transparency in a seismically active and ecologically fragile region near the heavily militarized Tibetan-Indian frontier. Once completed, the massive structure will dwarf the Three Gorges Dam on the Yangtze, and is expected to generate nearly three times as much hydropower by harnessing the Brahmaputra’s sharp descent from Himalayan peaks into the world’s deepest canyon.

Yet far beyond electricity production, the project portends a looming geopolitical and environmental crisis. It stands to disrupt the hydrological balance for millions of people downstream, destabilize a delicate Himalayan ecosystem and provide Beijing with a potent new lever over India, its strategic rival.

China appears to have learned nothing from its own cautionary tale: the Three Gorges Dam, currently the world’s largest. Once hailed as an engineering marvel, the dam has become an environmental nightmare — eroding riverbanks and deltas, degrading water quality, triggering frequent landslides and causing lasting ecological damage.

The new super-dam’s site is on a geologic fault line — a recipe for catastrophe. Scientists warn that large dam reservoirs can trigger seismic activity, a phenomenon known as reservoir-triggered seismicity. In this quake-prone region, the tectonic stresses induced by such a megastructure could lead to devastating earthquakes.

The Brahmaputra — the world’s highest-altitude major river — draws its perennial flow from Himalayan springs, glacial melt, upland wetlands and tributaries. The vast majority of these sources lie within Chinese-occupied Tibet, where the river is known as the Yarlung Zangbo. In contrast, India contributes modestly to the river’s year-round volume, though it plays a greater role in its monsoonal surge. After flowing through India’s Arunachal Pradesh and Assam states, the river enters Bangladesh before draining into the Bay of Bengal.

But a river’s flow is not just about water — it also carries nutrient-rich sediment, serving as the ecological lifeblood of entire regions.

By building a gigantic dam just before the river exits Chinese-controlled territory, Beijing gains the power to manipulate cross-border flows, including during the critical dry season. It can withhold or release water at will, trap sediment and potentially weaponize water in future disputes.

By capturing silt-laden waters before they reach India and Bangladesh, the dam will starve downstream floodplains of nourishing sediment that replenishes farmland and sustains fisheries. Bangladesh’s delta, already threatened by rising seas, will shrink further and become more prone to saltwater intrusion and catastrophic flooding.

Equally alarming is the likely disruption of the Brahmaputra’s natural flooding cycle. Seasonal floods during the summer monsoon serve vital ecological functions. Disrupting this rhythm could spell disaster for northeast India’s agrarian economy and for millions in Bangladesh who depend on the river’s pulse.

Moreover, by trapping sediment and altering flows, the $168 billion dam could erode riverbeds, degrade habitats and accelerate coastal loss. China would gain not only hydropower but also hydraulic power — the ability to influence political and ecological outcomes in neighboring nations.

China’s dam-building frenzy on rivers originating on the Tibetan Plateau has long alarmed downstream nations, from Vietnam and Thailand to Nepal. What makes this project uniquely concerning is its sheer scale, high-risk location and the strategic signal it sends.

For India, the dam represents more than just a hydrological threat. It is a potential geopolitical stranglehold. If tensions escalate again — as they did following China’s stealth incursions into Indian territory in 2020 — Beijing could exploit its upstream control to exert pressure. This is especially ominous given China’s claim to India’s sprawling Arunachal Pradesh state, which it labels “South Tibet.”

Hydropower generation is only one aspect of the dam’s utility. Its greater value lies in strategic dominance.

Despite the grave implications, international response has been muted. India has voiced concern, but its political response has been measured. The stark reality is that India possesses few diplomatic or legal tools to counter China’s upstream assertiveness. Nevertheless, India could take the lead in advocating international recognition of Tibet’s status as Asia’s “water tower” and push for binding norms on transboundary river development.

China’s unilateralism deepens distrust and reinforces strategic asymmetry in the region. Beijing is not party to any binding water-sharing treaty with its neighbors. Nor has it conducted credible environmental or seismic assessments for a project of this magnitude — despite its location in one of Earth’s most geologically unstable regions.

The Brahmaputra super-dam thus raises profound questions about regional stability. It epitomizes China’s strategy of “hydro-hegemony” — using upstream control of water to exercise geopolitical influence.

This is not just another dam. In an era when control over water is becoming as consequential as control over oil was in the 20th century, China is methodically locking in future geopolitical leverage.

Brahma Chellaney is a geostrategist and the author of nine books, including the award-winning “Water: Asia’s New Battleground.”

Catastrophe on the Roof of the World

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It is impossible to know the full extent of China’s destruction of the Tibetan Plateau, not least because the area is off limits to international observers. But there is no doubt that the region’s ecosystem is becoming increasingly fragile, with far-reaching social, environmental, and geopolitical consequences.

Brahma ChellaneyProject Syndicate

The Tibetan Plateau is home to vast glacial reserves, which amount to the largest store of fresh water outside the Arctic and the Antarctic. It is also the source of ten major Asian river systems – including the Yellow and Yangtze rivers of mainland China, the Mekong, Salween, and Irrawaddy rivers of Southeast Asia, and the Indus and Brahmaputra of South Asia – which supply water to nearly 20% of the global population. And, now, it is the site of a slow-burning environmental calamity that is threatening the water security, ecological balance, and geopolitical stability of the entire Asian continent.

For over two decades, China has been engaged in an aggressive and opaque dam-building spree, centered on – though not limited to – the Tibetan Plateau. Yet China’s government has refused to negotiate a water-sharing treaty with any of the downriver countries, which must suffer the consequences of their upstream neighbor’s whims.

Already, Chinese-built mega-dams near the Plateau’s border have brought water levels in the Mekong River to unprecedentedly low levels, with devastating effects on fisheries and livelihoods across Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, and Vietnam. As the Mekong Delta in southern Vietnam retreats – driven partly by Chinese dams – rice farmers are being forced to abandon their traditional livelihoods, instead farming shrimp or growing reeds.

Yet China’s dam ambitions continue to grow. The Three Gorges Dam, which runs along the Yangtze River, is the largest in the world. But it will be dwarfed by the dam China is now building on the Yarlung Zangbo river, also known as the Brahmaputra, in a seismically active region of the Tibetan Plateau. If completed, this project would drastically alter water flows into India and Bangladesh, threaten the region’s food security and ecological balance, and increase China’s geopolitical leverage over downstream countries.

The specter of water weaponization looms large. In fact, water is fast becoming the new oil – a strategic resource with the potential to trigger conflicts. Already, water disputes within and between countries are intensifying.

But China’s assault on the Tibetan Plateau extends beyond water. Its avaricious mining of Tibet’s mineral-rich lands – which boast critical resources like lithium, gold, and copper – is contributing to deforestation and producing toxic-waste discharge, while providing cover for China’s militarization of the Plateau.

It is impossible to know the full extent of China’s destruction. The area is off limits to international observers, and efforts by members of indigenous Tibetan communities – whose cultural reverence for nature has underpinned a long history of sound environmental stewardship – to sound the alarm are quickly quelled, often through imprisonment or exile.

But there is no doubt that the Tibetan Plateau’s ecosystem is becoming increasingly fragile, especially given its heightened vulnerability to climate change. The Plateau is warming at twice the global average rate, and its ice is melting faster than at the poles – trends that are reducing its water-storage capacity and reshaping river flows.

The implications are far-reaching. The Tibetan Plateau, which towers over the rest of Asia (rising into the troposphere), profoundly influences Asian climatic, weather, and monsoonal patterns, and even affects atmospheric general circulation – the system of winds that transports warm air from the equator toward higher latitudes – in the Northern Hemisphere. Its degradation will exacerbate droughts and floods, accelerate biodiversity loss, contribute to agricultural collapse, and fuel mass migration across Asia and beyond.

Despite these risks, the international community, from global climate forums to multilateral institutions like the United Nations and World Bank, has been deafeningly silent about Tibet. The reason is not ignorance, but fear: China has used its clout to suppress meaningful criticism of its actions on the “roof of the world.”

Given the stakes, the international community cannot afford to let itself be cowed by China. Countries must relentlessly press for transparency about China’s activities on the Tibetan Plateau. Specifically, China must share real-time hydrological data and submit its projects for international environmental assessment. Independent environmental researchers and monitors must be granted unfettered access to the Plateau to gather vital data and conduct unbiased analyses.

China must also be held accountable for its violations of the rights of indigenous communities – including the nearly one million Tibetans who have been forcibly relocated from their ancestral lands since 2000. Western governments and multilateral institutions have leverage here. By tying environmental transparency, respect for indigenous rights, and equitable management of shared river systems to trade agreements and climate cooperation, they can compel China to change its behavior. Direct support for indigenous Tibetan voices and civil-society networks would also help boost transparency.

Ignoring the unfolding crisis on the Tibetan Plateau might seem expedient; after all, China has plenty of economic and geopolitical clout – and it is not afraid to use it. But the costs of inaction would be staggering. Tibet is Asia’s ecological lifeline. China must not be allowed to use it in ways that threaten to upend the lives of people throughout the continent and beyond.

Brahma Chellaney, Professor of Strategic Studies at the New Delhi-based Center for Policy Research and Fellow at the Robert Bosch Academy in Berlin, is the author of nine books, including Water: Asia’s New Battleground (Georgetown University Press, 2011), for which he won the 2012 Asia Society Bernard Schwartz Book Award.

© Project Syndicate, 2025.

China’s super-dam is a disaster waiting to happen

Millions downstream in India and Bangladesh could die if a quake triggers a collapse

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Brahma Chellaney, Nikkei Asia

January 29, 2025

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By embarking on building a super-dam, the largest ever conceived, in the seismically active Sino-Indian border region, China is potentially creating a ticking water bomb for millions of people living downstream in India and Bangladesh.

The super-dam on the Yarlung Tsangpo river, better known as the Brahmaputra, is located in the eastern Himalayas, which sit on a geological fault line where the Indian Plate and the Eurasian Plate collide.

In a fresh reminder of the dangers posed by the megaproject, a strong earthquake this month in the eastern Himalayas, near Tibet’s borders with Nepal and India, damaged five dams, forcing the evacuation of people from downstream villages. The magnitude 6.8 quake killed at least 134 people, wounded hundreds and wrecked buildings, including Tibetan Buddhist monasteries and nunneries, some centuries old.

The concern that the behemoth dam will be the world’s riskiest project is reinforced by another fact: Two years after the Zipingpu Dam came into service near a seismic fault, a massive earthquake on the Tibetan Plateau’s eastern rim killed 87,000 people in 2008. The quake drew international attention to what scientists call reservoir-triggered seismicity (RTS), when the weight of the water impounded in a large dam reservoir causes severe tectonic stresses, triggering earthquakes usually within a few years of the dam being commissioned.

The reservoir of China’s Three Gorges Dam, currently the world’s biggest, is longer than the largest of North America’s Great Lakes, with its construction submerging two cities, 114 towns and 1,680 villages, and displacing 1.4 million residents in the largest peacetime evacuation in history. Beijing has not disclosed how many Tibetans will be displaced by the super-dam, which will generate more than three times as much electricity as the Three Gorges Dam in central China.

As its 11 giant dams on the Mekong River illustrate, Beijing takes a highly secretive approach to its dam projects on international rivers flowing to other countries from the water-rich Tibetan Plateau, whose annexation in the early 1950s helped turn China into an unrivaled hydro-hegemon, with 18 downstream neighbors. Tibet is the source of Asia’s greatest river systems.

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China has provided no public updates on the super-dam after its rubber-stamp National People’s Congress in March 2021 approved the project’s construction next to the heavily militarized frontier with India. But shortly after the approval, Beijing formally included the super-dam in its latest five-year development plan and opened a new railroad and highway to transport heavy equipment, materials and workers to the remote project site. All this suggested the start of construction.

Yet, a few weeks ago, China’s state-run Xinhua News Agency ran a story as if the super-dam project had just been approved. Xinhua reported nothing about the project’s construction status, other than to quote an official statement to claim the gargantuan dam was part of the country’s effort to pursue “high-quality development.” Subsequently, China’s foreign ministry and its charge d’affaires in New Delhi separately contended that the project would not negatively affect downstream India or Bangladesh — but again without disclosing any information about the super-dam’s current status.

The Brahmaputra, the world’s highest-altitude river, curves sharply around the Himalayas, forming the world’s longest and steepest canyon — twice as deep as America’s Grand Canyon — and holds Asia’s largest untapped water resources. By building the super-dam there, China is seeking to harness the power of a 2,800-meter drop just before the river crosses into India.

The project is not only compounding China’s already-fraught relationship with India but also threatening to affect rainfall patterns in Asia by wreaking severe ecological damage in Tibet, one of the world’s most biodiverse regions. Tibet’s fragile ecosystems play a central role in triggering Asia’s monsoonal rains.

The super-dam will also defile what is sacred territory for Tibetans: The canyon region’s major mountains, cliffs and caves represent the body of their guardian deity, the goddess Dorje Phagmo, and the Brahmaputra represents her spine. Tibetan culture, with its deeply rooted reverence for nature, acted as an environmental guardian until China avariciously began exploiting Tibet’s vast mineral and water resources.

China’s dam frenzy has already inflicted ecological damage at home and in downstream countries. China’s over-damming of internal rivers has harmed ecosystems, with many rivers disappearing and some drying up, including the Yellow River, the cradle of Chinese civilization. And with its dam builders turning their attention to international rivers flowing out of the Tibetan Plateau, adverse ecological impacts are becoming apparent, for example, in the lower Mekong Basin, including recurrent droughts and saltwater intrusion into the delta.

Today, Tibet’s glaciers and other ecosystems are threatened by climate and environmental change, and if China’s environmentally devastating activities accelerate glacial attrition on the Tibetan Plateau, the resulting significant changes in river flows would not spare even mainland China.

Yet, an undaunted China is pressing ahead with the controversial super-dam, whose construction is tantamount to waging a stealthy water war against India. But, in the long run, the country that could suffer the most is densely populated and China-friendly Bangladesh, located farthest downstream.

Once ready, the super-dam would raise the haunting specter of a quake-triggered collapse. There have been hundreds of dam breaches and collapses in China over the years, including the world’s deadliest dam failures: The 1975 typhoon-triggered collapses of the giant Banqiao and Shimantan dams in central China unleashed a cascade effect that wrecked 62 smaller dams, killing more than 85,000 people and displacing 11 million.

More recently, record flooding endangered even the Three Gorges Dam in 2020, putting some 400 million Chinese at risk.

If a powerful earthquake centered in the canyon region caused the super-dam to collapse, millions downstream could die, largely in the Brahmaputra Valley of India’s Assam state, where the river’s immense width makes it look like an ocean in the monsoon season.

Yet there is little prospect of China halting work on the super-dam. As long as the Chinese Communist Party remains in power, it will ignore the environmental and humanitarian consequences of its actions.

Brahma Chellaney, a professor of strategic studies at the independent New Delhi-based Centre for Policy Research and fellow at the Robert Bosch Academy in Berlin, is the author of nine books, including “Water: Asia’s New Battleground” (Georgetown University Press), which won the Bernard Schwartz Book Award.

China’s new super-dam carries both geopolitical and environmental risks

By Brahma Chellaney, The Hill

)In this April 24, 2018 photo released by China’s Xinhua News Agency, Chinese President Xi Jinping visits the Three Gorges Dam in central China’s Hubei Province.

The Chinese Communist Party has long thrived on secrecy, and 2024 was no different. As the year was ending, it became clear that Chinese President Xi Jinping’s regime is pressing ahead with a controversial plan that will likely wreak environmental havoc by damming the world’s highest-altitude river as it passes through Earth’s largest canyon.

The dam, the biggest ever conceived, also holds geopolitical risks given its location next to the disputed and heavily militarized China-India border. Indeed, the mammoth dam is being built just before the Himalayan river Yarlung Tsangpo (known downstream as the Brahmaputra) enters India.

Sketchy reports in Chinese state media last month about China’s “approval” of the super-dam’s construction suggest that work is already well underway, given that the project received the go-ahead from the country’s rubber-stamp parliament in March 2021. In fact, Xi’s regime included this dam project in its 2021 five-year economic development plan.

The unparalleled dam, which will cost a staggering $127 billion, highlights the government’s continuing fixation on building the world’s tallest, largest, deepest, longest and highest projects. The new dam will dwarf the biggest dam in the world today, China’s own Three Gorges Dam, whose reservoir is longer than the largest of North America’s Great Lakes.

When completed, the super-dam in southeastern Tibet will generate up to 300 billion kilowatt-hours of electricity yearly — more than triple the 88.2 billion installed capacity of the Three Gorges Dam. Located in central China, the Three Gorges Dam officially uprooted 1.4 million residents to make way for its mammoth reservoir, which submerged two cities, 114 towns and 1,680 villages.

In keeping with its record of secrecy, China has disclosed few details of the super-dam or the number of local Tibetans likely to be displaced, other than to claim that the project would produce “clean” energy. China’s foreign ministry, without saying anything about the dam’s current status, flatly asserted on Dec. 27, “The project will not negatively affect the lower reaches” of the river basin.

In truth, the dam will likely have far-reaching downstream impacts in India and Bangladesh, including altering the cross-border flow and course of the river, which empties into the Bay of Bengal. It will also trap the river’s nutrient-rich silt that helps to naturally fertilize farmlands during the annual monsoonal flooding, as well as sustains marine life.

The dam, in fact, is being built in one of the world’s most species-rich mountainous regions that is known as a biodiversity hotspot. Tibet’s fragile ecosystems are already threatened by climate change and China’s reckless exploitation of the plateau’s vast mineral and water resources. And the super-dam threatens to cause lasting damage to these ecosystems, which play a central role in triggering Asia’s annual monsoons.

To make matters worse, the behemoth dam is in a seismically active area, which raises the specter of a geological disaster. Tibet’s southeastern region is earthquake-prone because it sits on the geological fault line where the Indian Plate and the Eurasian Plate collide. Building the huge dam close to this fault line makes the project potentially a ticking water bomb for downstream communities.

Geopolitically, the megaproject is likely to sharpen the Sino-Indian territorial and border disputes, which date back to China’s 1951 annexation of the then-autonomous Tibet. By occupying the water-rich Tibetan Plateau, where most of Asia’s great river systems originate, China gained significant upstream leverage over multiple neighboring countries to which rivers flow.

Now, the new dam project will give China control over cross-border river flows, thus allowing it to leverage its territorial claim to India’s sprawling, Tibet-bordering Arunachal Pradesh state, which is almost three times the area of Taiwan.

Since 2006, Beijing has been calling Arunachal Pradesh “South Tibet” to assert that it should be part of China. The purported basis of China’s claim to that Indian state, however, has only served to highlight that Tibet remains the core issue in China-India relations.

While maintaining a veil of secrecy over its super-dam project since it was conceived, Beijing has asserted a “legitimate right” to dam the river in a border area. This is in keeping with its longstanding claim that it has “indisputable sovereignty” over waters on its side of the international boundary, including the right to divert as much shared water as it wishes for its legitimate needs.

China is now the world’s most dammed country, with more large dams in operation than the rest of the world combined. China’s dam building has increasingly moved from dam-saturated internal rivers (a number of which are dying) to international rivers.

Over the years, Beijing has kept every major project on an international river under wraps until construction is far enough along that the dam can no longer be hidden from commercially available satellite imagery and the project becomes a fait accompli. In this fashion, China has built 11 giant dams on the Mekong River (and is constructing or planning at least eight more), thereby gaining geopolitical leverage over its Southeast Asian neighbors, but also wreaking serious environmental harms, including recurrent droughts, in the downriver basin.

Against this backdrop, there is growing concern among downstream countries that China is seeking to weaponize the water resources of the Tibetan Plateau, most of whose river systems are transnational in nature. Not content with the 87,000 dams it has, China remains engaged in dam-building frenzy.

Its colossal dam project will not only compel India to prepare for contingencies but also ensure that, despite recent conciliatory moves, mistrust and strategic rivalry continue to define the Sino-Indian relationship. More fundamentally, the project will impose incalculable environmental costs extending from the Himalayas to the delta in Bangladesh.

Brahma Chellaney is a geostrategist and the author of nine books, including the award-winning “Water: Asia’s New Battleground.”

China can’t just keep building the world’s biggest dam in secret

The Brahmaputra super-dam project poses risks for India and Bangladesh

Brahma Chellaney, Nikkei Asia

The Three Gorges Dam discharges water to lower reservoir levels following heavy rain. China latest hydropower project would be three times bigger. © Reuters

China is unmatched as the world’s hydro hegemon, with more large dams in service than every other country combined. Now it is building the world’s first super dam, close to its heavily militarized frontier with India.

This megaproject, with a planned capacity of 60 gigawatts, would generate three times as much electricity as the Three Gorges Dam, now the world’s largest hydropower plant. China, though, has given few updates about the project’s status since the National People’s Congress approved it in March 2021.

Opacity about the development of past projects has often served as cover for quiet action. Beijing has a record of keeping work on major dam projects on international rivers under wraps until the activity can no longer be hidden in commercially available satellite imagery.

The super dam is located in some of the world’s most treacherous terrain, in an area long thought impassable.

Here, the Brahmaputra, known to Tibetans as the Yarlung Tsangpo, drops almost 3,000 meters as it takes a sharp southerly turn from the Himalayas into India, with the world’s highest-altitude major river descending through the globe’s longest and steepest canyon.

Twice as deep as the U.S. Grand Canyon, the Brahmaputra gorge holds Asia’s greatest untapped water reserves while the river’s precipitous fall creates one of the greatest concentrations of river energy on Earth. The combination has acted as a powerful magnet for Chinese dam builders.

The behemoth dam, however, is the world’s riskiest project as it is being built in a seismically active area. This makes it potentially a ticking water bomb for downstream communities in India and Bangladesh.

The southeastern part of the Tibetan Plateau is earthquake prone because it sits on the geological fault line where the Indian and Eurasian plates collide.

The 2008 Sichuan earthquake, along the Tibetan Plateau’s eastern rim, killed 87,000 people and drew international attention to the phenomenon of reservoir-triggered seismicity (RTS).

Some Chinese and American scientists drew a link between the quake and Sichuan’s Zipingpu Dam, which came into service two years earlier near a seismic fault. They suggested that the weight of the several hundred million cubic meters of water impounded in the dam’s reservoir could have triggered RTS or severe tectonic stresses.

But even without a quake, the new super dam could be a threat to downriver communities if torrential monsoon rains trigger flash floods in the Great Bend of the Brahmaputra. Barely two years ago, some 400 million Chinese were put at risk after record flooding endangered the Three Gorges Dam.

Meanwhile, the 11 large dams China has built on the upper reaches of the Mekong have had many negative ecological impacts, including recurrent drought, for downriver nations. But not only is China constructing more big dams on the Mekong, it is now also turning its attention to tapping the bounteous water resources in the Brahmaputra Basin.

In pursuing its controversial megaproject on the Brahmaputra, China is cloaking its construction activity to mute international reaction.

China presented the super dam project for the approval of the National People’s Congress only after it had built sufficient infrastructure to start transporting heavy equipment, materials and workers to the remote site.

Barely two months after parliament’s approval two years ago, Beijing announced that it had accomplished the feat of completing a “highway through the world’s deepest canyon.” That highway ends very close to the Indian border.

The following month, Beijing announced the launch of a new rail line from Lhasa to Nyangtri, a frontier military base less than 16 kilometers from the India border. In fact, President Xi Jinping began a surprise tour of Tibet in July 2021 from Nyangtri, taking the new train from there to the regional capital.

The new infrastructure indicates that work on the dam’s foundation likely began quietly after the opening of the railroad and highway.

The Brahmaputra was one of the world’s last undammed rivers until China began constructing a series of midsized dams on sections upstream from the famous canyon. With its dam building now moving close to border areas, China will in due course be able to leverage transboundary flows in its relations with rival India.

But the brunt of the environmental havoc that the megaproject is likely to wreak will be borne by Bangladesh, in the last stretch of the river. The environmental damage, however, is likely to extend up through Tibet, one of the world’s most biodiverse regions. In fact, with its super dam, China will be desecrating the canyon region which is a crucial Tibetan holy place.

A cardinal principle of water peace is transparency. The far-reaching strategic, environmental and inter-riparian implications of the largest dam ever conceived make it imperative that China be transparent. Only sustained international pressure can force Beijing to drop the veil of secrecy surrounding its project.

Brahma Chellaney is professor emeritus of strategic studies at the Center for Policy Research in New Delhi and a former adviser to India’s National Security Council. He is the author of nine books, including “Water: Asia’s New Battleground.”

South Asia’s Looming Water War

For any treaty to survive, the advantages it confers on all parties must outweigh the duties and responsibilities it imposes. The Indus Waters Treaty – widely considered the world’s most generous water-sharing pact – is nowhere near meeting that standard for India, and it is in Pakistan’s interest to remedy that.

BRAHMA CHELLANEYProject Syndicate

More than six decades ago, the world’s most generous water-sharing pact was concluded. Under the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT), upstream India left the lion’s share of the waters from the subcontinent’s six-river Indus system for downstream Pakistan. But repeated Pakistani efforts to use the treaty to disrupt India’s efforts to safeguard its own water security have driven India to rethink its largesse.

Last month, India issued notice to Pakistan that it intends to negotiate new terms for the IWT. In its current form, the treaty permits the World Bank to refer any India-Pakistan disagreement to either a neutral international expert or a court of arbitration in The Hague. But India contends that Pakistan, with its repeated bids for international intercession to block modestly sized Indian hydropower projects over technical objections, has abused and even breached the IWT’s dispute-settlement provisions.

India’s frustration intensified last October when the World Bank appointed both a neutral expert and a court of arbitration, under two separate processes, to resolve differences with Pakistan over India’s Kishenganga and Ratle hydroelectric projects in Jammu and Kashmir. India claims that the arbitral court proceedings, which began two days after it issued its notice to Pakistan, contravene the IWT, so it is boycotting them. The World Bank, for its part, has acknowledged that “carrying out the two processes concurrently poses practical and legal challenges.”

India’s renegotiation plan – which focuses on barring third parties from intervening in bilateral disputes under the IWT – appears to be a direct response to these developments. But, as India well knows, Pakistan is highly unlikely to agree to negotiations. This suggests that India’s recent notice to Pakistan is just its opening gambit. The next step may well be an attempt to force Pakistan’s hand on its long-term sponsorship of cross-border terrorism.

This has been coming for some time. Six years ago, after an attack by Pakistan-based terrorists on the Indian military in Jammu and Kashmir killed 19 troops, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi declared that “blood and water cannot flow together.” In a sense, his statement got to the heart of the IWT, which India pursued precisely to improve relations with Pakistan and avoid bloodshed on the subcontinent.

When the IWT was signed in 1960, Sino-Indian tensions were high, so India effectively attempted to trade water for peace with its other large neighbor, Pakistan. The IWT – under which India keeps less than 20% of the total basin waters – is the only international water agreement embodying the doctrine of restricted sovereignty, with the upstream country agreeing to forego significant use of a river system for the benefit of its downstream counterpart.

But the deal appeared only to whet Pakistan’s appetite for the Indian-administered region of Jammu and Kashmir, through which the largest three rivers of the Indus system flow. Five years later, in 1965, Pakistan launched a surprise war – the second conflict between the two countries over the region’s status.

All the while, the IWT guaranteed to Pakistan a huge share of Jammu and Kashmir’s water – the region’s main natural resource. This hampered economic development, led to chronic electricity shortages, and fueled popular frustration in that territory. And when India attempted to address the region’s energy crunch by building run-of-the-river hydropower plants – which are permitted by the Indus treaty, and would not materially alter transboundary water flows – Pakistan did everything it could to block progress.

Ironically, Pakistani officials and lawmakers have sometimes issued their own calls to renegotiate the IWT, with the Pakistani Senate even passing a 2016 resolution to “revisit” the treaty and “make new provisions” that favored Pakistan. But far from advancing Pakistan’s interests, such actions have merely reminded the Indian public that, at a time of growing water stress, the Indus treaty is an albatross around their country’s neck.

To be sure, Pakistan has plenty of its own water-related problems. A deep divide has emerged between downriver provinces and the upriver Punjab province, which appropriates the bulk of the Indus waters to sustain its profligate agricultural practices. Punjab’s water diversion – aided by large China-backed dams in the Pakistani portion of Kashmir, including the massive Diamer Bhasha Dam – is turning the Indus Delta into a saline marsh, which represents a major ecological disaster.

But none of this is the fault of the IWT, which is clearly in Pakistan’s interest to safeguard. To do that, Pakistan must stop focusing only on its treaty-related rights, while neglecting its responsibilities. This includes rethinking the use of terrorism as an instrument of state policy – a tactic that runs counter to the spirit of the IWT and threatens to drive India unilaterally to withdraw from it.

Such action would not cause river flows to Pakistan suddenly to stop, as India lacks the kind of hydro infrastructure this would require, and has no plans to change that. But it would enable India to pursue reasonable hydro projects without dam reservoirs, regardless of Pakistani objections. More fundamentally, it would sever a crucial diplomatic thread between India and Pakistan.

For any treaty to survive, the advantages it confers on all parties must outweigh the duties and responsibilities it imposes. The IWT is nowhere near meeting that standard for India, which has so far accrued no tangible benefits from it. What has been called the “world’s most successful water treaty” has overwhelmingly benefited Pakistan, which has a powerful incentive to abandon its combative approach and embrace the compromise and cooperation needed to save it.

Brahma Chellaney

Brahma Chellaney, Professor of Strategic Studies at the New Delhi-based Center for Policy Research and Fellow at the Robert Bosch Academy in Berlin, is the author of nine books, including Asian Juggernaut; Water: Asia’s New Battleground; and Water, Peace, and War: Confronting the Global Water Crisis.

© Project Syndicate, 2023.