Punjab Floods: Old Gates and the Unchanged Cost of Neglect

Spread love

Despite better rescue operations than 1988, Punjab bears the brunt of catastrophic floods—exposing century-old infrastructure failures, administrative apathy, and the unequal burden of sharing Himalayan waters.

By SARABJIT SUFI

LUDHIANA, September 1, 2025 — As of late August 2025, Punjab is grappling with severe flooding across eight districts—Gurdaspur, Pathankot, Amritsar, Hoshiarpur, Kapurthala, Tarn Taran, Ferozepur, and Fazilka—as the Ravi, Beas, and Sutlej rivers surged due to heavy rainfall in upstream hilly regions. Over 830 villages have been impacted, with thousands evacuated.

The Indian Army, NDRF, and BSF have been carrying out rescue operations, while infrastructure including bridges and roads has been badly damaged, cutting off access to many rural areas. The flooding stems from abnormally intense monsoon rains in Himalayan catchments, particularly Jammu & Kashmir, where rainfall was recorded at over 700% above normal.

This natural onslaught swelled reservoirs and rivers, pushing water levels beyond manageable limits. But nature was not the only culprit. Opposition leaders alleged that the Punjab government spent over ₹230 crore on flood prevention without visible results, while Akali Dal leaders accused the administration of neglecting embankment repairs and desilting of rivers.

The official toll is still being assessed, but widespread crop destruction, loss of homes, and displacement of families underline the scale of damage. Controlled water releases were attempted in the early days.

The Ranjit Sagar Dam discharged over 2 lakh cusecs before tapering, while Bhakra Dam also released large volumes. In theory, this water could have been discharged more gradually, but the situation spiralled when three floodgates of the 150-year-old Madhopur Headworks collapsed under extreme pressure. The breach sent uncontrolled torrents into the Ravi, making phased releases impossible and aggravating the disaster.

Punjab has faced similar tragedies before, most notably in 1988, when catastrophic flooding submerged nearly 9,000 villages and affected over 3 million people. That disaster was triggered by heavy rainfall combined with massive releases from the Bhakra-Beas reservoirs.

In comparison, the 2025 floods have hit fewer villages, yet the causes remain strikingly similar—a combination of natural excess rainfall and administrative lapses. The difference lies in response: in 1988 rescue and relief were limited, while in 2025 military technology and faster deployment have saved thousands, even though suffering on the ground remains immense.

The Madhopur Headworks failure raises deeper concerns. While overwhelming hydraulic pressure was the immediate cause, critics point to negligence. The gates were over a century old, yet little modernization or reinforcement was done despite warnings.

Experts argue that timely repairs could have reduced the damage. Thus, while water pressure broke the gates, administrative neglect allowed the disaster to escalate. Another pressing question is why Punjab bore the brunt while neighbouring states like Haryana, Rajasthan, and Delhi—major beneficiaries of its rivers—escaped.

Geography offers the answer: the sudden surges from Himalayan catchments hit Punjab directly, overwhelming its villages and farmland before moving downstream in more regulated flows. Punjab, being the first receptor of dam discharges, absorbed the devastation while others reaped the benefits of its waters.

Some voices have attempted to link the Radha Swami Satsang Beas center near Mand with the floods, but no credible evidence supports such claims. On the contrary, their premises have been used for shelter and relief.

While structural encroachments along rivers remain a wider issue, attributing the 2025 floods to this institution’s negligence is unfounded. The larger and most troubling question remains whether such disasters can ever be prevented.

Experts call for systematic desilting of rivers, modernization of gates and embankments, scientific reservoir management, and serious climate adaptation policies. Yet in Punjab, the perception is far more political.

A growing sentiment among farmers and leaders is that floods are mishandled to punish the state for its defiance—be it the farmers’ protests or resistance to central water policies. The timing of dam releases, the collapse of outdated infrastructure, and the fact that Punjab alone bears devastation while its waters irrigate Haryana, Rajasthan, and Delhi, all fuel the belief that the Centre uses such crises as leverage.

For many, the 2025 floods are not just a natural tragedy but a message from New Delhi: whenever Punjab stands tall against unjust farm laws or demands its fair share of resources, it will be made to pay the price. Until this politics of punishment ends and cooperative federalism is genuinely practiced, floods in Punjab will continue to be remembered not only as acts of nature, but as acts of deliberate neglect.

(This is an opinion piece, and views expressed are those of the author only)

Follow The Raisina Hills on WhatsApp, Instagram, YouTube, Facebook, and LinkedIn