How China’s Brahmaputra Card Risks India’s Northeastern Lifeline
Brahmaputra River & India's Northeast (Images X.com)
China’s tightening grip over the Brahmaputra is morphing into a potential geopolitical flashpoint. Beijing now appears to be wielding water as a strategic weapon.
By P. SESH KUMAR
NEW DELHI, JUNE 1, 2025 – The Brahmaputra, or Yarlung Tsangpo as it is known in Tibet, is not just a river – it is the pulsing artery of India’s northeastern frontier, sustaining millions through agriculture, fishing, and hydropower. But in the glacial heights of Tibet where it is born, a different current is now flowing – one of strategic leverage and geopolitical tension.
China’s assertion through Victor Zhikai Gao, who ominously warned India to “not do unto others what you don’t want done to you,” has blown the lid off a simmering crisis.
This was not just a philosophical musing – it was a calculated signal. Zhikai sought to suggest: “If India can weaponize water against Pakistan by freezing parts of the Indus Water Treaty after the Pahalgam terror strike, then China can do the same using the Brahmaputra as a hydrological hammer over India.”
What makes the threat more than rhetorical is the scale and ambition of Chinese engineering upstream. In December 2024, China greenlit the Medog Hydropower Station, a dam so colossal that it dwarfs even the Three Gorges in ambition.
With a projected capacity of 60,000 megawatts, it is not just about generating power – it is about asserting power. While Chinese officials claim it will not hurt downstream flows, the sheer magnitude of the project makes that assurance ring hollow. India, and to some extent Bangladesh, remain downstream dependents in a river system now dominated by Beijing’s iron will.
India’s vulnerability stems from geography as much as geopolitics. Nearly 50 percent of the Brahmaputra’s total catchment lies in Tibet, giving China an upstream chokehold.
In Arunachal Pradesh and Assam, the river sustains vast tracts of cropland, feeds hydroelectric projects like the Subansiri and Siang dams, and serves as a vital buffer against annual monsoon floods. Any disruption – whether through diversion, storage, or sudden release – could wreak havoc.
Flash floods, irrigation failures, and ecological devastation are no longer hypothetical – they are looming risks.
To be fair, there have been efforts to build safeguards. MoUs between India and China for hydrological data sharing during the flood season exist on paper. But trust is in short supply.
During the Doklam standoff in 2017, China conveniently stopped sharing crucial flood data with India, even as it continued to provide the same to Bangladesh. That selective cooperation was not a technical glitch – it was unmistakable strategic signalling.
In Beijing’s playbook, rivers are no longer natural resources – they are tools of statecraft.
India cannot afford to be reactive anymore. This is no longer a matter of routine diplomatic protest notes or water commission meetings. It demands a recalibration of India’s entire strategic posture on transboundary rivers. The Brahmaputra issue must now be elevated to a top-tier diplomatic priority. Quiet diplomacy has its limits. It is time to call out China’s hydro-hegemony on global platforms.
New Delhi must proactively build regional coalitions with Bangladesh, Nepal, and Bhutan to advocate for a fair Himalayan water regime and push for a binding multilateral treaty – a proposal China has repeatedly stonewalled.
Domestically, the solution lies in a mix of resilience and readiness. India must fast-track water storage and flood control infrastructure in Arunachal and Assam. Real-time satellite monitoring and AI-based hydrological forecasting must replace archaic manual systems.
India must invest not only in concrete but also in conservation. Ecological preservation and river health must be mainstreamed into our developmental planning.
At the community level, farmers, fishers, and local self-governments must be educated and empowered to adapt to shifting water patterns and threats.
But just as India sharpens its diplomatic tools and domestic readiness, it must also confront the elephant in the room – the charge of hypocrisy. The most potent and inconvenient critique of India’s Brahmaputra position is this: how can New Delhi cry foul over China’s upstream assertiveness when it has itself signalled a willingness to use water as a strategic lever against Pakistan?
The answer lies in both the legal architecture of water sharing and the optics of consistency in diplomacy. Critics, including Chinese commentators and even some Indian analysts, point out that India’s decision to review or freeze elements of the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) following terror attacks – first after Uri in 2016, and then again post-Pahalgam in 2025 – blurs the line between legal entitlements and political retaliation.
The IWT, brokered by the World Bank in 1960, is widely regarded as one of the world’s most successful and enduring water-sharing pacts, even between arch-rivals.
Unlike the Brahmaputra, which is governed only by flimsy MoUs, the Indus basin has a detailed and legally binding treaty structure. While India has hinted at leveraging its upper-riparian status on the western rivers –Indus, Jhelum, and Chenab – it has thus far stayed within the treaty’s bounds.
Hydroelectric projects like Kishanganga and Ratle, although contested by Pakistan, are legal under the IWT’s non-consumptive use clauses. Water has not been blocked; utilization has been optimized.
China, on the other hand, is building mega-dams on the Yarlung Tsangpo without any binding treaty, with little transparency or consultation – an assertion of unilateral hydro-sovereignty far removed from legal restraint.
More crucially, the geopolitical contexts differ. India’s water assertiveness in the Indus basin has been reactive – triggered by repeated cross-border terrorism, a breakdown in diplomatic channels, and a rising domestic clamour for a tougher stance on Pakistan.
China’s Brahmaputra strategy is not reactive. It is proactive, calculated, and long-term. The Medog project and other planned diversions are not retaliatory acts; they are strategic infrastructure designed to secure Beijing’s regional hydrological dominance. India’s posture in the west is episodic. China’s in the east is structural.
Yet, optics matter. If India is to demand transparency and restraint from China, it must embody those very values. That means defending its Indus position as one of legal entitlement, not retaliatory leverage.
It also means pressing for a broader Himalayan basin-wide consultative framework, not selective arrangements. Consistency across borders builds credibility – and India’s appeal to global norms will only be compelling if it walks the talk.
India’s moral high ground in the Brahmaputra dispute may be dented – but it is not demolished. What is needed is a coherent, integrated water diplomacy. One that holds both the eastern and western basins to the same principles. India should be aware of the view that while it expects China to cooperate and consult, it must extend the same courtesy to its own neighbours. The litmus test lies not in selective outrage – but in universal adherence to fair, legal, and sustainable river sharing and calculated diplomatic offensive.
The Brahmaputra’s future cannot be left to the goodwill of an upstream giant with a track record of geopolitical brinkmanship. India must act – with urgency, with clarity, and with resolve. It must build regional solidarity, international pressure, and domestic resilience in tandem. The waters of the Brahmaputra are rising. So must India’s strategy.
(This is an opinion piece; views expressed solely belong to the author)
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