Opinion Hague ruling on Indus Waters Treaty revives legal debate. But trust cannot flow when terror does

The simmering dispute over the Indus Waters Treaty is not just about water. It is about sovereignty, security, and a Treaty that has withstood conflicts for over six decades but now strains under the pressures of asymmetric warfare. The question before India is not only legal. It is strategic, too. What happens when a peace agreement becomes a shield for a party that wages proxy war? What happens when rivers meant to irrigate fields begin to flood battlefields of perception?

The Indus Waters Treaty, brokered by the World Bank in 1960, was hailed as a triumph of cooperative diplomacy. It partitioned the rivers of the Indus basin between India and Pakistan, granting India full rights over the eastern rivers and limited use of the western ones. Despite wars and political breakdowns, the Treaty endured because it insulated water from politics. But terrorism has no insulation. And India, bleeding from attacks launched across the very rivers it shares, reached the limits of forbearance.

The Hague tribunal’s award may be procedurally valid. It reflects the logic of legal permanence. Pakistan, which initiated the proceedings, argued that disputes over interpretation should be addressed legally and stated that India’s suspension was unjustified. The Treaty, the panel concluded, cannot be suspended unilaterally, and jurisdiction, once triggered, cannot be undone by later events.

But the law cannot be blind to context. India did not act lightly. It placed the Treaty in abeyance after Pakistan-based terrorists killed dozens of Indians in a brazen attack in Pahalgam on April 22. When blood stains the snow of the Pir Panjal, the abstractions of international law ring hollow.

India has not cut off water or violated Pakistan’s share. Instead, it has frozen the instruments of cooperation as a wake-up call. The message is stark: Treaties are built on trust, and trust cannot flow when terror does.

Water is often called the last soft commodity, and experts emphasise that it must remain above politics. But Pakistan politicised water by sheltering groups that target Indian soldiers and civilians. India’s decision to place the Treaty in abeyance is not vengeance. It is a consequence.

The old order of water-sharing, insulated from politics, is unlikely to survive unchanged. As India plans for the future, it faces a range of strategic choices beyond the purely legal. It can continue boycotting arbitration to deny it legitimacy. It can withdraw from the Treaty entirely, though this carries risks. It might also maximise its legal entitlements, including the neutral expert’s forthcoming decision, and use structural advantages to pressure Pakistan without breaching the agreement. Another path is to offer conditional cooperation, using upstream geography as leverage, if Pakistan meets clear and verifiable conditions. A more cautious approach would involve keeping technical channels open while political tensions persist. Each course demands a careful balance of resolve and restraint that matches the stakes.

Other river basins offer cautionary tales. In the past, Egypt has threatened to use force over Ethiopia’s Grand Renaissance Dam. Thailand and Vietnam often complain about China’s control of the Mekong. These flashpoints offer ample proof that there are no outright winners. While geography sets the opening bid, legitimacy and transparency determine whether power becomes a lasting advantage or an enduring grievance.

India’s choice must blend firmness with foresight. India should expand its infrastructure and fully utilise both its entitled share of the eastern rivers and its permissible use of the western ones under the Treaty. It must do so with transparency, precision, and speed.

At the same time, India should craft a diplomatic path that links re-engagement to Pakistan’s demonstrable action on terror. This is not a compromise. It is conditional justice. If Pakistan wants the benefits of the Indus water system, it must stop using terror as a tool.

India must also speak to the world with clarity. It is not undermining peace. It is demanding that peace be real. It is not holding water hostage. It is refusing to be hostage to hypocrisy. If the international community wishes to preserve the Indus Waters Treaty, it must ensure Pakistan fulfils its obligations. That includes refraining from exporting violence under the cover of cooperative agreements.

The Indus is a lifeline. For Pakistan, yes. But also for India, not just as a source of water, but as a symbol of resilience, restraint, and rights. India’s policy must reflect that duality. It must be hard-headed in execution but clear-eyed in intention. It must signal that peace is not weakness and justice is not optional.

In the end, regardless of choices, the Indus and its tributaries will flow. The question is whether the nations they nourish will choose harmony over hostility. India has drawn its line. Now, Pakistan must decide whether to treat the Indus system as rivers of peace or allow them to become torrents of tension. By choosing a firm but just path, India can prove that strength and responsibility can still flow together.

The writer is former permanent representative of India to the United Nations, and dean, Kautilya School of Public Policy, Hyderabad