ISLAMABAD: In addition to the National Security Committee’s tit-for-tat response to India’s unilateral action against, inter alia, the Indus Water Treaty (IWT), Pakistan could take the suspension of the treaty as “a blessing in disguise,” according to water experts.
“Pakistan has nothing to lose in the situation of India declaring the World Bank brokered Indus Water Treaty of 1960, as held in abeyance,” said Dr Hassan Abbas, a renowned water expert.
“On the other hand, we could rather regain and reclaim what we had foregone to India under the Treaty,” Abbas said while talking exclusively to WE News English.
He also mentioned India’s failure to meet the promise under the treaty to make the desert of Rajasthan green.
There is not a single instance reported so far since 1960 where India has physically stopped the water to Pakistan despite two wars and occasional bilateral tensions.
“Instead of waiting for the World Bank, Pakistan should rush to the International Court of Justice, besides other international forums, to reclaim the three rivers it gave out to India under the treaty,” he maintained.
Like Hassan Abbas, experts also highlight that India does have the capacity to physically alter the course or stop the flow of the three rivers under the control of Pakistan under the treaty.
Pakistan, at the same time, could ask for the stoppage of four major drains India is dropping into the Eastern Rivers under the treaty.
“Pakistan has the capacity to block Sutlej that brings in the polluted water, damaging the underground water bed, ecology, and wildlife,” Dr Abbas said on the authority of his technical expertise.
Likewise, Dr Munawar Hassan Panwar, an expert in international relations, supported the aggressive stance taken by the National Security Committee in its Thursday meeting.
He was of the view that Pakistan’s narrative countering India’s anti-Pakistan propaganda must be disseminated with full force.
Last week’s emergency meeting of the Permanent Indus Commission (PIC) in Delhi marked an unprecedented rupture in a pact that has withstood six decades of wars and diplomatic crises.
On April 24, 2025, India announced that it would place the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty “in abeyance,” suspending its obligations to share data and consult Pakistan on river flows.
Within hours, Pakistan’s National Security Committee warned that any deliberate obstruction of its water supply “would be tantamount to an act of war.”
In Islamabad, the tone was urgent. Farmers in Punjab braced for disruptions to upcoming Kharif crop irrigations, while operators at Mangla and Tarbela hydropower stations warned of falling reservoir levels by early May.
The prime minister’s cabinet convened an extraordinary session, and opposition leaders set aside partisan differences to present a united front in defence of Pakistan’s “lifeline” rivers.
According to officials privy to fast-moving developments, the World Bank—custodian of the Treaty—expressed deep concern and signalled its readiness to convene the Permanent Indus Commission (PIC) within the next 45 days.
However, the World Bank has yet to issue a standalone, unequivocal public statement on the situation. The local office of the World Bank, when contacted by WE News English said that the matters related to the IWT are dealt with by the Head Office in Washington.
“Your queries would be forwarded to the Head Office, and they would directly respond to you,” officials at the World Bank’s Resident Representative Office said.
Simultaneously, Pakistan lodged formal protests with the United Nations Secretary-General and mobilized the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation (OIC), characterizing India’s move as not only a breach of treaty law but a violation of the human right to water and food security.
Yet there were analysts with a moderate and traditional standpoint, pointed out that Pakistan’s response will be driven by the Treaty’s own dispute resolution architecture.
Article VII compels both countries to meet annually; Islamabad has already asked the World Bank to schedule a meeting of the PIC—complete with hydrologists and engineers from both sides—to examine real-time flow data on the Ravi, Beas, and Sutlej rivers and to scrutinize any new Indian works.
If those technical discussions reach an impasse within three months, Pakistan can invoke Articles 8 and 9 to appoint a neutral expert, as it did successfully in the Baglihar (2007) and Kishanganga (2013) cases, securing binding rulings on dam designs and minimum flow releases.
Should the neutral expert process fail to address India’s suspension itself, Islamabad is prepared to launch a full Court of Arbitration under Articles 9 and 10.
Such a tribunal—comprising judicial and technical members—would have the mandate to rule on the legality of India’s “abeyance” declaration; an outcome that legal experts say would carry significant political weight and potentially deter New Delhi from persisting with any further unilateral tactics.
Pakistan’s appeal to the World Bank is more than symbolic. As a Treaty depositary, the Bank can convene dispute resolution bodies, issue procedural orders, and place India’s hydropower financing at risk.
New Delhi has signalled intentions to fund additional dams on the western rivers; a Bank finding of breach could complicate those plans and erode India’s standing with multilateral lenders.
Beyond legal recourse, Islamabad has effectively internationalized the dispute. Its formal complaint to the UN Security Council frames water denial as a security threat to millions of Pakistanis, while its briefing at the UN Human Rights Council invokes the water right—a move that won broad sympathy among human rights delegations.
The OIC’s recent communiqué condemning any weaponisation of shared rivers further underlines Pakistan’s diplomatic success in rallying over 50 Muslim-majority states.
The 1960 Treaty itself emerged from years of deadlock, brokered by the World Bank at a time when Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and President Ayub Khan recognized that cooperation over the Indus basin was essential to both nations’ prosperity.
The pact allocates the three western rivers—the Indus, Jhelum, and Chenab—to Pakistan (about 80 percent of total flows), while granting India the eastern trio (Ravi, Beas, Sutlej).
It includes a finely calibrated set of technical provisions and dispute resolution paths that have withstood four wars and countless skirmishes without a single recorded instance of upstream flow obstruction.
Even during the 1999 Kargil conflict, deliveries at Pakistan’s headwork remained within Treaty parameters, underscoring the agreement’s resilience.
Today, that legacy is on the line. As Pakistan mobilizes its engineers, lawyers, and diplomats, the 1960 Treaty is likely to prove not merely a relic but a living bulwark—one capable of deterring any real attempt to weaponise South Asia’s rivers.
Should India persist with its suspension, Pakistan’s next steps—reactivating the PIC, appointing a neutral expert, constituting a Court of Arbitration, and pressing international forums—will test whether the world’s most enduring water treaty can withstand its gravest political challenge yet.
