THE scorching heat of May 2025 isn’t just about the rising temperatures; it’s a challenge to time, history and the Earth’s limits.
When tensions between India and Pakistan shifted from growing unrest to open conflict in early May, the world quickly dismissed it as just a “territorial dispute.
” Some countries raised concerns, while others stayed quiet.
But what transpired was much more than a political clash; it marked the beginning of a major environmental crisis.
A crisis that’s gradually taking away the very air we breathe, turning our lands dry and lifeless and leaving us hollow, not just on the outside, but deep within.
When we trace the root causes of this conflict, India’s decision to unilaterally suspend the Indus Waters Treaty stands out as a major alarm bell.
This treaty had kept the subcontinent’s most vital resource, water, separate from politics and conflict since 1960.
But with India’s recent suspension and its efforts to control the western rivers, the situation has escalated far beyond diplomatic differences.
For Pakistan, this isn’t just a diplomatic setback; it signals an approaching humanitarian and ecological disaster.
Millions of farmers, especially in Sindh, Punjab and Balochistan, who rely on these rivers, were already struggling with rapidly melting glaciers, unpredictable rainfall and prolonged periods of drought.
Now, these political decisions have taken away their last source of survival.
In recent years, parts of Pakistan and India have experienced some of the most extreme heat waves in recorded history.
Areas like Sindh, Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Punjab and the Thar Desert regularly see temperatures surpass 50°C.
In such intense heat, crops wither, water sources vanish and people, especially the most vulnerable, like children, the elderly and labourers, lose their lives on the streets, in fields and even at home.
Heat is no longer just a season; it has become a messenger of death.
And in these desperate times, when river water is cut off, famine isn’t a distant threat; it’s an inevitable reality.
The horror of this crisis intensified when both India and Pakistan launched missile and drone strikes.
Beyond immediate destruction, these attacks released toxic smoke, chemicals and carbon into the air, spiking pollution levels to lethal highs within hours.
Burning military depots and oil facilities filled the atmosphere with pollutants that, in just five days, matched a year’s emissions from several nations.
Explosives and metals have also seeped into the soil, contaminating water and disrupting cloud patterns, which could impact rainfall and monsoons.
This isn’t temporary damage—it’s an environmental legacy that endangers future generations.
Legal experts warn that cutting off vital water supplies, such as those protected under the now-suspended Indus Waters Treaty, could be viewed as an existential threat, potentially justifying extreme responses under international law.
For countries like Pakistan, whose survival hinges on these rivers, such acts blur the line between political pressure and a trigger for full-scale conflict.
War is not simply about tanks, missiles, or military casualties.
It is a seismic event, a psychological, social, climatic and civilizational upheaval that shakes societies to their core.
Its most tragic victims are children, the elderly and women, who are deprived of water, shelter, education, food and hope for the future.
These are the silent deaths that do not appear in statistics but devastate entire civilizations.
The effects of both environmental collapse and war extend far beyond nature, poisoning human societies in ways that will resonate for generations.
When water scarcity causes crop failures, food shortages follow, leading to greater poverty, social unrest and ultimately, political instability.
This instability fuels military spending at the expense of critical sectors like education, health and the environment, further eroding social services and exacerbating environmental decay.
It is a cycle of destruction, quiet yet undeniable.
If we view this as just a “political issue,” future disasters will have us counting bodies, not rivers.
War and environmental ruin are inseparable and South Asia pays with blood, thirst and toxic air.
The solution to this disaster lies not in more war treaties, but in a new covenant with nature.
The Indus Waters Treaty must be restored and updated to reflect changing environmental realities, transforming water from a weapon of war into a foundation of trust.
A “Green Treaty” should be established, where both countries set shared goals to combat air pollution, deforestation and water contamination.
An independent, apolitical “Environmental Council” must be formed to oversee research, resource distribution and disaster management.
Nuclear powers separate environmental concerns from military strategies, as attacks on nature recognize no borders.
Public awareness must be raised through media, schools, mosques, temples, churches, & gurdwaras.
If this conflict is left to governments alone, defeat is certain.
South Asia chooses survival, not enmity, or this land, air and water will become our silent graves.
—The writer is a young activist who comes from Islamabad and now lives in Dubai. (engineerhammad786@gmail.com)
