Water is Pakistan’s first line of economic security, and its most vulnerable flank. When an upstream power weaponises flows or data, it not only breaks trust; it taxes our GDP, inflates food prices, and pushes farmers to the brink. India’s April 2025 suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) after a Kashmir attack it blamed on Pakistan, followed by senior statements in June that the treaty would not be restored, moved this danger from rhetoric to policy, jeopardising a system that has underwritten Pakistan’s agriculture for six decades.

“Water is Pakistan’s first line of economic security, and its most vulnerable flank.”

The economics are stark. Roughly a quarter of national output is tied to agriculture, and the sector supports about half of the workforce; when irrigation falters, growth and employment do too.  Agriculture also accounts for approximately 90-95% of Pakistan’s freshwater withdrawals, meaning even small upstream shocks can cascade through crops, livestock, and the agro-industry.

Per-capita water availability is already at scarcity levels, estimated at about 930 m³ by 2023. leaving us with little buffer against political or climatic disruption. Climate extremes then amplify the risk: the 2022 floods imposed over $30 billion in damages and losses, and fresh floods this summer have again ravaged farmland, threatening growth and food inflation.

This is why the “water-terrorism economy” is not a slogan but a balance-sheet reality. Weaponised uncertainty, suspending cooperation, withholding hydrological data, or manipulating maintenance windows, raises risk premia for farmers and millers, distorts planting decisions, and forces expensive emergency imports. Reuters has already noted that suspension of the IWT could also halt data sharing essential for flood warnings and crop planning, a non-visible but very costly shock channel.

Meanwhile, legal friction over projects like Kishenganga shows why robust adjudication matters: the Hague Court of Arbitration’s 2013 award obliges India to maintain a minimum flow of 9 cumecs below KHEP, a recognition that ecological and downstream economic harms are real and must be mitigated.

UNGA-80 gives Pakistan a narrow but meaningful path to turn the crisis into norms. First, anchor the debate in law, not grievance. The 1997 UN Convention on the Law of the Non-Navigational Uses of International Watercourses, whether or not universally ratified, codifies the obligation to prevent “significant harm.” Pakistan should table language that operationalises this principle for data-dependent river basins: mandatory real-time data exchange, third-party verification, and automatic fact-finding when flows deviate materially from seasonal norms.

“Suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty jeopardises six decades of agricultural stability.”

Second, connect water coercion to macro-vulnerability with numbers, not narratives. Use official and multilateral statistics, sectoral shares in GDP and employment; the ~90% share of water withdrawals by agriculture; and the post-flood fiscal and growth impacts, to argue that destabilising flows is tantamount to destabilising a lower-middle-income economy’s food and price stability. Link this to global inflation risks via rice, cotton, and sugar markets, where Pakistan is a meaningful producer.

Third, propose an “Indus Transparency Safeguard” that does three simple things: (1) locks in continuous telemetry-based flow reporting to the World Bank (as historical facilitator) and a UN-nominated technical custodian; (2) triggers neutral expert review within 15 days when deviations exceed hydrologically expected bands; and (3) ties climate finance eligibility for basin states to compliance with data-sharing and minimum-flow obligations. This keeps the World Bank’s convening role while globalising oversight appropriate to a nuclear basin. (The World Bank’s past role and the arbitral record make this a credible architecture to sell in New York.)

Fourth, build a coalition around precedent, not polarity. The Mekong and Nile debates show that downstream vulnerability is a Global South issue, not a bilateral quarrel. Pakistan should convene a South-South caucus on “Water, Data, and Development,” with a pledge that any state suspending a water-sharing regime or data exchange without multilateral review will face naming-and-shaming through an annual UNGA scoreboard. This is inexpensive diplomacy with a reputational bite.

“Destabilising flows is tantamount to destabilising food and price stability.”

Fifth, separate deterrence from escalation. Call the practice, conditional suspension of lifeline water cooperation, what it is: economic coercion with humanitarian externalities. But avoid securitised language that forecloses mediation. Instead, lean on existing adjudicatory outcomes (Kishenganga minimum-flow) and the treaty’s own problem-solving machinery to show good-faith compliance and invite reciprocal behaviour.

Finally, match external asks with domestic reforms so partners take the case seriously. Commit at UNGA-80 to: cutting conveyance losses in canals, scaling pressurised irrigation in high-value crops, accelerating groundwater governance, and expanding crop insurance linked to verified flow data. Signal that IMF-linked fiscal space will prioritise resilient irrigation and flood defences, an argument strengthened by the Fund’s ongoing scrutiny of climate-related spending and the demonstrable macro-cost of floods.

“Water data must be treated as a public good, and coercion as economic aggression.”

If India’s de facto suspension of the IWT stands, the cost will not be measured only in cusecs; it will be measured in foregone growth, food inflation, and rural distress. Pakistan should use UNGA-80 to shift the frame from bilateral blame to global rules: water data as a public good, minimum flows as non-negotiable, and coercion as a violation of economic security. That is how to turn a vulnerability into a diplomatic advantage, and how to make the price of “water terrorism” visible in New York’s most public forum.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author. They do not represent the views, beliefs, or policies of the Stratheia.