by Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal
Since its inception in August 1947, Pakistan has been resolute in strengthening its defenses, always aware of the challenges posed by its eastern neighbor. The fledgling state pledged to prioritize its security needs, even at the cost of hardship, and has stayed true to this commitment. Just a few months ago, the world witnessed Pakistan’s impressive response to Indian aggression, demonstrating prowess in conventional warfare by dismantling fourteen layers of the Indian threat with remarkable effectiveness.
Even with the clarity of that mastery, there was still one area where, unfortunately, we stayed indifferent—or perhaps even accepted our ignorance. In this neglected domain, India once again prevailed; not by gun or missile, but by the waters that flow unchecked. Following our triumph in conventional war, India turned to a form of aggression less ostentatious but no less potent, releasing waters of rivers under its control into our territory. The consequences are now upon us in the form of catastrophic floods. The wise counsel that one must ever remain alert to the enemy and harbour no expectation of generosity; still, in this matter Pakistan has suffered from prolonged inertia and neglect.
This year, beginning in late June and continuing into August, Pakistan has endured unprecedented floods. Heavy monsoon rains, augmented by cloudbursts, triggered flash floods and landslides across Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP), Punjab, Sindh, Balochistan, Gilgit-Baltistan, Azad Jammu & Kashmir, and the capital region. As of late August 2025, the National Disaster Management Authority reports that over eight hundred souls have perished and more than one thousand others are wounded. In KP alone, nearly 479 lives were lost and 347 persons were injured.
The KP province bore the worst of the calamity, with catastrophic flash floods and landslides claiming hundreds more—over three hundred fatalities—and several areas such as Buner, Swat, Bajaur, Battagram, Mansehra, Shangla, Lower Dir, and Abbottabad were severely affected. In Buner District, tragedy struck with particular severity: at least 158 perished, many more remain missing, and a rescue helicopter crashed during operations, claiming the lives of five rescuers.
Punjab, too, stands in peril; over 150,000 persons have been evacuated from eastern districts such as Kasur and Bahawalnagar, following Indian warnings of dam water releases from swollen rivers. These rivers—Ravi, Sutlej, and Chenab—originating in India, now threaten Pakistan’s agricultural heartland and food supply. The deteriorating Kavawali bridge, vital to ten villages, teeters in Fazilka; its collapse would compound the plight of the rural population already facing crop damage and destroyed embankments.
As for economic consequences, the devastation is immense. Already, since 26 June, over 1,676 buildings—of which 562 were destroyed—have been reported across Swat, Abbottabad, Charsadda, Malakand, Shangla, Lower Dir, and Torghar. In Khyber Pakhtunkhwa alone, infrastructure loss amounts to roughly Rs 20 billion, including thirty-seven schools, eighty-three roads, ten bridges, over two hundred irrigation channels, and nearly seventy water-supply schemes rendered unusable; the irrigation authority’s losses alone exceed Rs 10.3 billion.
Nationwide, the human and agricultural toll is staggering. Livestock numbering in the thousands have been swept away; thousands of homes destroyed; entire farmlands ruined; and tens of thousands displaced—evacuated to safer ground yet left with shattered livelihoods. The crops of Pakistan, particularly in Punjab and Sindh, are under grave threat, and vast fields of rice, wheat, and sugarcane lie submerged. This ruin of agriculture shall inevitably deepen the food crisis. Economists have already warned that such destruction will intensify inflation, compounding the misery of the common man who already struggles with soaring prices. The flood, thus, is not merely a natural calamity but a peril to Pakistan’s economy, its sustenance, and its stability.
One must ask: why did we fail to attend to the water sector with equal vigour as defence? Why have key infrastructure projects—dams such as Kalabagh—remained unbuilt, when they could have stored these waters and forestalled disaster? Here, the responsibility lies squarely upon our leadership. For decades, parochial politics, provincial rivalries, and vested interests have obstructed the construction of Kalabagh Dam. Successive governments, despite enjoying authority and resources, lacked either the courage or the will to build it. Some rulers, had they been truly statesmen, could have secured Pakistan’s future by pushing forward this vital project; instead, they chose silence or expediency. As a result, future generations inherit calamity in place of security, floods in place of reservoirs, and perpetual vulnerability in place of stability.
It was not solely external agency that led to this ruin. The broader factors—deforestation, poor urban planning, illegal construction, weakened embankments, climate change aggravating cloudburst and monsoon intensity—have all conspired against us. Experts and residents testify to the swiftness and force of rising torrents: many were dragged to rooftops or stranded; clean water and medical supplies were inaccessible; devastation was widespread.
This calamity stands as a clarion call. Pakistan must redouble its efforts: to pursue storage infrastructure, uphold embankments, strengthen early-warning systems, and enforce land-use regulations. Above all, it must rise above the paralysis of political discord. Agricultural heartlands and rural communities require protection—not only rescue in crisis, but mitigation in peace.
Thus, the nation remains ever committed to its defence, clinging to that creed of resilience. Yet this year, we have learnt anew that defence must include the conservation and governance of vital natural resources. The flood that descended from India’s rivers demands not only lamentation, but foresight, preparation, and resolve. Let this disaster awaken in us a renewal of vigilance—for without mastery over both arms and waters, our sovereignty remains incomplete.
