FOR over 6,000 years, the Indus was the spine of one of the world’s earliest urban civilisations. At Mohenjodaro and Harappa, archaeologists found planned cities, drains, granaries and markets, but no weapons or fortresses. The Indus people built baths, docks and trade links to Mesopotamia and the Gulf. The river was their road. It carried cargo, ideas and people, stitching communities together instead of dividing them.

The shift began in the 1850s. After annexing Punjab, the British built the Bari Doab and Sirhind Canals to settle soldiers and reward allies. These colonial projects diverted water politically, creating the first water conflicts and pitting upstream and downstream communities against each other instead of promoting cooperation.

After 1947, India and Pakistan continued British policies, dividing and damming the Indus for short-term political goals without a basin-wide vision. This created a ‘robbing Peter to pay Paul’ system. The delta lost fresh flows and silt. Canal areas got water but faced waterlogging, salinity and feuds over water rights. Both lack clean water and dignity. Debt grew despite billions spent, while we clung to a colonial irrigation model built for an empire, not a nation.

After air, water is the most basic need of life. But water also has a second nature. When it is allowed to flow, it connects. When it is dammed and diverted, it divides. To reverse this, Pakistan needs to invoke the grand economic engine that has united regions elsewhere: inland navigation. China’s Grand Canal, built over 1,400 years, kept north and south economically linked and politically united. The 1825 Erie Canal cut freight costs by 90 per cent, connecting the Midwest to New York. The 1992 Danube-Rhine corridor turned European rivals into partners by giving 11 nations a shared stake in one navigable river. Each linked sea trade to inland waterways, delivering cheaper goods, integrated markets and greater peace.

Water connects when allowed to flow.

The Indus offers the same possibility on a larger scale. From Karachi on the Arabian Sea, the Indus and its five tributaries form a 3,200-kilometre network reaching every major Pakistani city. Barges of 500 to 1,000 tons could run from Karachi to Hyderabad, Sukkur, D.G. Khan, Mianwali, Attock and Peshawar, with feeders linking Multan, Bahawalpur, Lahore, Faisalabad and Sialkot. Karachi could become South Asia’s Rotterdam. Freight costs from Punjab to port could fall sharply, while solar-powered barges would save billions in fuel and carbon emissions.

But the true power of navigation is not economic. It is diplomatic. The Indus is the only natural corridor from the heart of Asia to the seafaring trade. If we develop it, we can offer Afghanistan a direct link to the seafaring world. A navigable channel up the Indus and then up the Kabul River to Jalalabad would give landlocked Afghan­istan a port. In return, Pakistan gains transit revenue and a neighbour whose prosperity depends on a stable river system.

The same logic extends east. The Ravi and Sutlej flow into Pakistan. With free flowing rivers, barges from Gurdaspur and Ferozepur in Indian Punjab could also reach the Arabian Sea through Pakistan. This is exactly how the Danube and Rhine forced European states to cooperate after centuries of war. When upstream and downstream both need the channel to stay open, they would jointly agree on free flow and pollution control. Water stops being a zero-sum resource and becomes a shared asset.

Extending north and west, the Indus can connect even more. Cargo from Central Asia could travel down the Panj and Kabul rivers to Jalalabad, then by barge to Karachi, cutting sea access distance in half versus routes through Iran or the Black Sea. Goods from Xinjiang could descend via the Karakoram to Gilgit and then by river. For the first time, the world’s largest landlocked region would gain a direct, low-cost route to the ocean, turning fragmented areas into one economic space, like China’s Grand Canal did.

To make this work, we must change how we manage the river. We divert 100 MAF for irrigation, but lose 50pc in canals and 30pc to flood irrigation. Switching to piped, pressurised supply from riverine wells could cut use to 20-25 MAF and boost yields, freeing over 75 MAF — over 10 times Tarbela’s storage. Flowing rivers would recharge aquifers, restore forests, enable navigation, and end feuds. The rural peace dividend alone would be worth billions. This vision needs new priorities: clean water first, efficient irrigation second, flowing rivers third. It means solar power for pumps and barges, pollution controls, and investment in locks and ports.

We can continue the 1850s path, or return to Mohenjodaro’s logic. Indus unites, not divides. When a river flows for everyone, everyone prospers.

The writer has a PhD in hydrology and water resources from Michigan State University.

X: @shahjijr

Published in Dawn, July 30th, 2026