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Tuesday, February 17, 2026

 

Indian Tanker Seizures Threaten Market Shift and Rift With Iran

Asphalt Star, seen here in earlier service as the Glory Star, 2011 (mgklingsick@aol.com / VesselFinder)
The ICG-seized tanker Asphalt Star, seen here in earlier service as the Glory Star, 2011 (mgklingsick@aol.com / VesselFinder)

Published Feb 16, 2026 11:09 PM by The Maritime Executive

 

The Indian seizure of three dark fleet tankers associated with Iranian oil exports has been well-known within the industry for days, even though the Indian Coast Guard quickly withdrew a post describing their seizure. But now Reuters has confirmed that the seizures did indeed take place, and that the tankers are being held off the western Indian coast by the Indian Coast Guard.

On February 5, the ICG boarded three Iran-associated sanctions-busting tankers about 100 nautical miles to the west of Mumbai.  The tankers were then escorted to anchorages off Mumbai, their current locations being confirmed by multiple AIS aggregating sites.  The tankers concerned are the Al Jafzia (IMO 9171498), Asphalt Star (IMO 9463528) and the Iranian-flagged Stellar Ruby (IMO 9555199), all of which are US-sanctioned following multiple journeys in which Iranian oil has been loaded, transshipped and delivered.

Iran has issued a statement denying any connection to the tankers or their cargoes.

At the time of the seizure, the Maritime Executive noted that this Indian action may have been connected with the advertised participation of Iran’s 103rd Naval Flotilla in the International Fleet review, which India is about to host in Visakhapatnam, the headquarters of the Indian navy’s Eastern Command. It was suggested that the Indian move was a subtle way of suggesting to the Iranians that their invitation had been rescinded, and that they were no longer welcome, particularly as the Indian government intend to use the occasion of the fleet reviw to advertise the impending purchase of more Boeing Poseidon P-8I aircraft, a deal which could have been jeopardized by any Iranian presence. Now however, as the Indian Navy announces the arrival of foreign ships for the fleet review, Iranian participation is no longer being trumpeted.  

Iran is still expected to participate - however, not with the announced three ships of the 103rd Flotilla, but likely with a single Moudge-class frigate IRINS Dena (F75) instead.

Of more significance than the Iranian participation in the International Fleet Review, the Indian Coast Guard’s seizures will be of much greater potential impact on international oil flows. India has been importing large volumes of sanctioned oil for domestic use, both from Iran and Russia. But it has also been refining significant volumes of crude from these sources, and then re-exporting it to countries such as Australia, labeled as Indian rather than sanctioned oil. If the Indian Coast Guard seizures are maintained, then Indian refiners will need to switch the source of their feedstock – and what they will be able to purchase instead will not enjoy the discounts which could be asked for sanctioned oil.

Top image courtesy VesselFinder



Iran's IRGC Prompts False Alarm in Strait of Hormuz

Strait of Hormuz
The Strait of Hormuz from space (NASA file image)

Published Feb 16, 2026 10:37 PM by The Maritime Executive

 

The IRGC Navy has made a number of half-hearted attempts to disrupt traffic in the Straits of Hormuz in recent weeks.

On January 29, the IRGC Navy warned that areas of the Straits of Hormuz would be closed for a live fire exercise. On the next day, CENTCOM warned ‘the IRGC to conduct the announced naval exercise in a manner that is safe, professional and avoids unnecessary risk to freedom of navigation for international maritime traffic’, and the Iranians then canceled the planned exercise.

Several days later on February 3, the United Kingdom Maritime Trade Operations (UKMTO) in Dubai advised that an unidentified ship was hailed on VHF by numerous small armed vessels early and had been requested to stop. This was a poor choice of target for the IRGC to make, as the ship in question was the US-flagged Crowley-managed Stena Imperative (IMO 9666077), chartered under the Department of Defense Tanker Security Program. The master of the ship ignored the request and the nearby USS McFaul (DDG-74) promptly saw off the threat.

The IRGC made a third disruptive attempt when warning that they would carry out a ‘smart exercise’ and live firing off Sirik on the eastern side of the Straits of Hormuz between 03.30 and 18.30 UTC on February 17. Some commentators suggested that this would entail closure of the northern and inbound leg of the Straits of Hormuz Traffic Separation Scheme. However, this lane lies within Omani territorial waters, and Oman would not countenance such a closure. 

Oman enforces a strict policy on maintaining unimpeded use of the Traffic Separation Scheme. Ships approaching the Straits are normally hailed separately and successively by the Iranian Navy (Nedaja), the IRGC Navy and the Iranian Coastguard. When vessels are in Iranian waters it is maritime custom and practice for vessels to reply. But if such Iranian calls are made when vessels are in Omani waters, vessels are not obliged to respond, and the Omani authorities will normally jam such calls when their radar systems indicate that the vessel being hailed is in Omani waters.

The Iranian warning of its impending exercise was accompanied by a video showing various IRGC speed boats, but this was historic footage of a previous exercise, and no ships or boats were identified as about to take part in the exercise. The allusion to a ‘smart’ exercise may imply that no actual vessels are involved. An unidentified IRGC Navy Shahid Soleimani Class missile corvette (but likely to be IRIS Shahid Soleimani (FS313-01)) was seen heading East off Kish Island on February 16, but such activity is not indicative of participation in the forthcoming exercise.

All these IRGC-initiated half-hearted events, or non-events, are indicative of Iran’s current state of nervousness and sense of vulnerability. It is significant that the regular Iranian navy (Nedsa) is not playing a part in these charades, and indeed is keeping itself invisible and well out of the way, for the most part by holding off in the northern Indian Ocean.


Strait of Hormuz Traffic Separation Scheme shipping channels (Goran Tek-en / CC BY), with the exercise area off Sirik indicated (CJRC).


Iran’s Water Crisis: A National Security Imperative – Analysis


February 17, 2026 

By Scott N. Romaniuk, Erzsébet N. Rózsa and László Csicsmann

Iran is confronting an unprecedented water crisis. Rivers that have sustained settlements and agriculture for centuries are drying, while groundwater reserves are being extracted far beyond natural replenishment—over 70% of major aquifers are considered overdrawn. According to Isa Bozorgzadeh, spokesperson for Iran’s water industry, many plains and reservoirs have reached critically low levels. Over the past two decades, the country’s renewable water resources have declined by more than a third, pushing Iran to the brink of absolute water scarcity.

Drought cycles are becoming more frequent and severe; this past autumn marked one of the driest periods in the last 20 years in contemporary Iranian history. For decades, national development policies assumed that engineering and extraction could overcome environmental limits. Today, those limits are reasserting themselves, and shortages are moving from rural peripheries into major cities, placing pressure on a political system already managing numerous economic, social, and national security challenges. Rising scarcity underscores the multifaceted ways in which water intersects with livelihoods, public trust, and national security, creating pressures that extend from rural communities to urban centers and shaping Iran’s domestic and regional policies.

These long-term pressures are not solely the product of climate variability. They reflect cumulative policy decisions, infrastructure choices, and social priorities that have consistently prioritized water-intensive agriculture, urban expansion, and industrial development. Iran’s national security is no longer defined solely by armies, weapons, or borders—it now hinges on something far more fundamental: water. Understanding these drivers is crucial to grasping how the country arrived at its current crisis, where domestic vulnerabilities intertwine with mounting regional tensions over shared water resources.

How Iran Got Here


While droughts have made Iran’s situation worse, various studies and official reports show that the main causes are mostly related to policies and infrastructure. The Islamic Republic’s long-standing commitment to agricultural self-sufficiency—complemented by necessity due to international sanctions—prioritized national food security over environmental sustainability. Crops such as rice, wheat, and sugar beet were promoted—even in areas unsuitable for high water consumption. Subsidized water pricing and low-cost energy encouraged excessive irrigation, depleting rivers and aquifers.

Urban and industrial expansion, with Iranian urbanization standing at approximately 77 percent, has further compounded pressures on water resources. The licensing of hundreds of thousands of wells, many lacking proper oversight, has accelerated groundwater extraction far beyond natural replenishment rates. In Tehran, ageing century-old water infrastructure, including the ancient underground qanat/kariz system, contributes to significant leakage, intensifying shortages even in years of normal rainfall.

In addition, Minister Ali Abadi has noted extraordinary factors—such as disruptions from regional conflicts, including the recent 12-day war with Israel—that have further exacerbated the capital’s water stress, prompting the introduction of a recently launched plan to move the capital closer to the more water-abundant Makran region along the Gulf of Oman. In some areas, aquifers have fallen so drastically that land subsidence has become irreversible, damaging roads, buildings, and farmland. Policies intended to secure economic and national resilience instead produced resource overreach, leaving Iran highly vulnerable to both climatic variability and systemic infrastructure failures.

Water Scarcity as a Driver of Unrest and Inequality

Water scarcity increasingly threatens Iran’s social cohesion and national stability. Rural communities dependent on irrigation have witnessed orchards wither and livestock decline, prompting waves of migration to already stressed urban areas. These environmental pressures erode traditional livelihoods and ignite political grievances, as seen in demonstrations in Isfahan, Khuzestan, and other provinces under the slogan ‘We are thirsty!’ (Ma teshne im!). Residents frequently accuse authorities of misallocating water to industrial users or favored regions, while government responses often prioritize containment over addressing the root causes.

Scarcity also exacerbates long-standing regional and ethnic disparities. Inter-provincial water transfers—from Khuzestan and Chaharmahal-va-Bakhtiari to central provinces such as Isfahan and Yazd—have deepened resentment in peripheral areas. Arab communities in Khuzestan, Bakhtiari, and Lor populations in the southwest view these projects as benefiting Persian-majority industrial centers, reinforcing perceptions of historical neglect and political marginalization. Various protests in these regions, notably the farmers’ protest in Isfahan in April 2025, have occasionally escalated into clashes with security forces, road blockages, and attacks on construction sites, highlighting how hydrological stress intersects with ethnic identity, structural inequalities, and contested state–society relations.

As environmental decline accelerates, water scarcity risks transforming from an episodic trigger of unrest into a sustained driver of domestic tension and center–periphery conflict, challenging both local livelihoods and national cohesion.

Urban and Rural Vulnerability


Once considered insulated from water stress, urban areas are increasingly facing challenges to this assumption. Major cities depend on interconnected reservoirs and pipelines vulnerable to both climatic fluctuations and disruptions over long distances. Tehran, home to some 9-10 million residents (but some 15 million if the metropolitan area is considered), relies heavily on mountain reservoirs threatened by declining snowpack and rising temperatures.

Similarly, Mashhad and Shiraz have faced rotational cutoffs that strain the public’s patience, while provincial centers in arid regions occasionally experience complete supply interruptions. Significantly, the Zayandeh-Rood—meaning “life-giving river”—which gave rise to Isfahan, the Safavid capital of the 16th century, and long stood as one of Iran’s most visited tourist sites, has remained dry for several years.

As this unfolds, rural decline accelerates as irrigation fails, leaving villages effectively depopulated once wells run dry. Younger generations move toward cities or abroad in search of work, weakening traditional agricultural knowledge and local governance networks that once managed shared water. These shifts complicate national planning: Iran’s water strategy has long relied on the idea that a large agricultural sector could support food sovereignty. However, as farms disappear, this idea becomes harder to hold on to, which could force a strategic shift towards relying more on imports.

Agricultural Self-Sufficiency Under Threat

Water scarcity has fundamentally constrained Iran’s longstanding goal of agricultural self-sufficiency. With rivers declining and groundwater aquifers overdrawn, the country can no longer reliably irrigate large areas of farmland. Water-intensive crops such as wheat, rice, and sugar beet now compete for dwindling supplies, and yields are increasingly unpredictable. As a result, Iran struggles to produce enough food to feed its population of some 92 million without turning to imports.

Policies that once prioritized domestic production for strategic and ideological reasons now create tension between national food security objectives and ecological realities. Growing dependence on imported grain and other staplesexposes Iran to global market volatility, amplified by international sanctions on the Iranian banking system, diplomatic pressure from trading partners, and sharply rising domestic prices driven by hyperinflation. These economic pressures further complicate agricultural planning, forcing policymakers to balance strategic self-sufficiency against both environmental limits and escalating costs.


Water as a Tool of Power


Water scarcity does not operate solely within Iran’s borders. Across the broader Middle East, Central Asia, and South Asia, water has become intertwined with geopolitics. In the absence of international treaties on rivers (as compared to the high seas, e.g., the 1982 Washington Treaty), water sharing is left to the riparian states to work out among themselves.

Yet, with the colonial past in most of these regions and the relatively new independent statehood of most, water sharing has entered the focus of regional intra-state attention relatively late. Climate change, however, has dramatically increased this necessity, especially as control over headwaters can translate into political bargaining power, and in some cases, states have deliberately used water to pressure neighbors, assert dominance, or influence downstream economic and security outcomes.

A New Geopolitics of Headwaters

Relations between Afghanistan and Iran illustrate how upstream development carries strategic consequences. Tehran views projects on the Helmand River, vital for Iran’s Sistan and Baluchestan province, not only as infrastructure but also as assertions of Afghan sovereignty. Each dam threatens reduced flow to Iranian territory, prompting diplomatic strain and, at times, heated rhetoric.

Tensions also surface between Afghanistan and Pakistan over the Kabul River, where future water demand may exceed supply. Beyond irrigation, upstream development has historically been leveraged as a political tool: restricting flow to downstream users can pressure concessions on trade, security, or border negotiations. In these situations, hydrology dictates bargaining power: those who control the flow shape politics. No wonder, under Iran’s new ‘neighborhood policy’, negotiations with both neighbors include water sharing as one of the main topics.

Iran’s Options Narrowing: External Dependence on the Horizon


Self-sufficiency has been an ideological and security principle since 1979, strengthened by the reality of Iran’s general isolation following the Islamic Revolution. Yet current trends indicate that Iran may no longer meet domestic demand without external support. Proposals to import water or expand desalination signal an uncomfortable recognition: sovereignty over food and water may be eroding.

Desalination is expanding along Iran’s southern coast, but infrastructure, energy costs, and environmental implications limit scalability. Meanwhile, importing water from neighboring states introduces geopolitical vulnerability, providing potential strategic advantage for foreign governments to influence Iranian policy. Reliance on external water or agricultural imports is rapidly becoming a strategic discussion point.

Information Gaps and Public Trust

Effective management depends on transparency, but water data in Iran is often treated as confidential. Environmental assessments are rarely shared fully with the public or independent researchers, creating uncertainty about actual conditions.

This opacity encourages speculation. Communities blame mismanagement or regional favoritism; rumors circulate about unauthorized industrial withdrawals or hidden infrastructure failures. Distrust grows faster than credible communication. Institutional capacity exists within Iran to improve water governance, including strong scientific expertise.

The barrier is political: acknowledging the full scale of decline would require renegotiating priorities long framed as essential to national strength. Yet, in response to a call from religious authorities, several organized prayers for water were held across the country.

Climate Change as a Force Multiplier


Climate pressures intensify Iran’s water challenges. Higher temperatures increase evaporation from reservoirs and soil, while reduced snowpack diminishes spring melt feeding rivers. Rainfall has declined by approximately 85% in critical areas, its increasing unpredictability posing serious challenges for both immediate and long-term water resource management. In response, Iran has turned to cloud seeding to induce rainfall, though results remain limited and inconsistent. Extreme weather events, including heatwaves and sudden, localized flooding, further strain rural and urban water infrastructure while also threatening agricultural productivity and food security.

Iran cannot control these climatic drivers, but policy choices determine how severely they affect livelihoods and national security. Failures in governance and resource management amplify these trends, transforming natural variability into full-scale crises. Without coordinated adaptation strategies—ranging from investment in resilient water infrastructure to sustainable agricultural practices—climate change acts as a multiplier for existing vulnerabilities, intensifying rural depopulation, urban water stress, and social unrest.

In this way, environmental shifts do not merely add pressure; they accelerate and exacerbate every underlying economic, political, and infrastructural challenge.

Hydro-Politics and Regional Realignments


Water scarcity is increasingly shaping Iran’s regional relationships, influencing both cooperation and competition. Shared rivers and aquifers create interdependencies that constrain national policy, while scarcity amplifies the stakes of diplomacy, trade, and security. Rather than merely presenting local disputes, these dynamics now shape broader strategic calculations, affecting alliances and regional influence.

Iran faces growing downstream vulnerability and upstream dependency. In the east, tensions over transboundary rivers underscore how upstream development in Afghanistan and Pakistan can affect water availability in Iran’s border provinces, requiring careful negotiation to prevent disruption. In the west, Türkiye’s control of shared water resources limits Tehran’s leverage in Iraq and Syria, forcing Iran to combine technical cooperation, diplomatic engagement, and economic initiatives to maintain influence.

At the same time, Gulf states’ investment in desalination, water recycling, and strategic food reserves introduces asymmetries in water security capabilities, creating new competitive pressures. Scarcity also encourages selective cooperation: multilateral frameworks, cross-border infrastructure projects, and joint drought management programs are increasingly explored, though historical mistrust and diverging national priorities complicate implementation.

These pressures are reshaping strategic flexibility. Where Iran once relied primarily on military, ideological, or economic tools to project influence, hydrological realities now define its options. Access to water flows, control over shared resources, and the capacity to adapt to scarcity have become core determinants of regional bargaining power. In effect, water scarcity functions as both a constraint and a tool, compelling Iran to recalibrate alliances, balance regional competition, and integrate environmental realities into its broader strategic planning.

Water as a Boundary of Strategy

Iran’s water security dilemma demonstrates how environmental realities reshape national priorities. What was once considered a manageable challenge has evolved into a structural constraint affecting agriculture, cities, and foreign policy simultaneously.

Scarcity alters internal migration patterns, raises the likelihood of unrest, and erodes the social contract between state and citizens. Environmental experts and activists, including Nikahang Kowsar—who has been sounding the alarm for nearly two decades—trace much of the crisis to longstanding policies dating back to the reformist era of President Mohammad Khatami, showing how governance decisions interact with natural limits to shape vulnerability.

These pressures demand difficult choices between self-sufficiency and sustainability—choices that carry political risks no matter the direction taken. Beyond Iran’s borders, water scarcity sharpens competition over shared rivers and introduces new factors into regional diplomacy. Access to reliable water flows may determine economic outcomes and future alignments.

The era in which Iran could independently secure its water and food needs is fading. National strategy must now be constructed around hydrological limits rather than in defiance of them. Water, once treated as an input to growth, has become a primary boundary of what Iran can achieve at home and how it can position itself abroad.

About the authors:

Scott N. Romaniuk: Senior Research Fellow, Centre for Contemporary Asia Studies, Corvinus Institute for Advanced Studies (CIAS); Department of International Relations, Institute of Global Studies, Corvinus University of Budapest, Hungary.

Erzsébet N. Rózsa: Professor at Ludovika University of Public Service; Senior Research Fellow at the Institute of World Economics, Hungary.

László Csicsmann: Full Professor and Head of the Centre for Contemporary Asia Studies, Corvinus Institute for Advanced Studies (CIAS), Corvinus University of Budapest, Hungary; Senior Research Fellow, Hungarian Institute of International Affairs (HIIA).

Source: This article also appeared at Geopolitical Monitor.com





Saturday, November 29, 2025

Don’t Let Trump Make America’s Waterways Toxic Again

The question is whether the nation values its water enough to resist the administration’s wholesale attack on environmental protections.


In the spring, thousands of herring swim upstream in the Charles River to spawn.
(Photo by Derrick Z. Jackson)

Derrick Z. Jackson
Nov 25, 2025
Common Dreams


This spring and summer, I was awed by the majesty of waterways cleaned up in the Northeast by the strong environmental laws we’ve had in place over the last half century.

At home in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I walked along the banks of the Charles River as it winds its way through greater Boston. In the mid 20th century, it was so fouled by industrial pollution that boaters who fell into the water were advised to get tetanus shots. Today, thousands of river herring speed upstream in the spring to spawn. One morning, I came upon six great blue herons grabbing herring out of the water as gulls swooped down for the leftovers. The Charles is now its own wildlife refuge.




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I also ventured south to the Bombay Hook National Wildlife Refuge in Delaware, where I witnessed migrating bald eagles descending from the sky to pluck fish out of the water and great blue herons gobbling up white perch bigger than their heads. Once a swampy muck, it was transformed into what it is today thanks to a segregated African American Civilian Conservation Corps team 85 years ago. Its marshes are so important for migratory birds that the Obama administration poured more resources into it in the Delaware River Basin Conservation Act.

Heading north, my wife and I canoed on the Penobscot River and the Androscoggin River in Maine. Both rivers once had the oxygen literally sucked out of them by poisons from paper mills, tanneries, chemical companies, sewage facilities, and farm runoff. It was so polluted that Suzanne Clune, an 11-year-old girl who lived along the Androscoggin, wrote Maine Sen. Ed Muskie to complain about the stench from floating dead fish. Her letter was one of the inspirations for Muskie to introduce a bill in 1971 that would become the Clean Water Act.

The current occupants of the White House, Congress, and the Supreme Court are clearly bent on tearing the Clean Water Act to shreds.

Five decades later, the river teems with wildlife. My wife and I saw eagles, herons, kingfishers, and osprey snapping up fish; moose and deer munching in marshes; harrier hawks patrolling the marshes for mice and voles; and beavers slapping their tails.

As enthralling as our encounter was with Maine wildlife, we paddled on not knowing if their habitat—or the habitat in Massachusetts and Delaware—will continue to be protected. The current occupants of the White House, Congress, and the Supreme Court are clearly bent on tearing the Clean Water Act to shreds. This month, in the administration’s latest move to hand the fate of our waterways and wetlands back to polluters, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) officially proposed to remove most wetlands from federal protection.

Reversals Underway


The formerly filthy Charles River, a natural boundary between Boston and Cambridge, is now a wildlife refuge. (Photo by Derrick Z. Jackson)

In 2023, the Supreme Court, which President Donald Trump packed in his first term to create a conservative supermajority, set the stage for the EPA’s announcement by ruling that countless wetlands and ephemeral Western streams were not worthy of protection. Earlier this year, the high court also ruled that the EPA cannot punish polluters when their raw sewage discharges jeopardize water quality.

Confident that the Supreme Court will defend it against environmental group challenges, the second Trump administration is proposing a 2026 fiscal year budget that would slash at least $5 billion from a slew of EPA, Interior Department, and US Department of Agriculture programs that protect water quality, foster water conservation, and fund water pollution science.

The EPA’s budget itself is slated for a 55% cut. Among the biggest targets are the agency’s State Revolving Fund program that supports water infrastructure projects; water management projects in the West; Superfund cleanups; the US Geological Survey’s water, energy, mineral, and ecosystem research; and the US Fish and Wildlife Service’s conservation and science programs.

As a paddler and river rambler, I have certainly profited from the gift of a half century of clean water protections, marveling at heron spearing herring and eagles careening in the sky.

Those proposed cutbacks come on top of those already made this year, including the cancellation of nearly 800 EPA environmental justice grants and a $2.5 billion cut from the $3 billion Biden administration program addressing injustices in marginalized communities. Many of the canceled grants involve projects protecting water, including removing lead, PFAS, and other toxic chemicals from drinking water; preventing floods; cleaning watersheds to protect wildlife; and upgrading wastewater and sewer systems.

EPA Administrator Lee Zeldin is also relaxing rules or extending deadlines on wastewater and coal ash from coal plants and handing coal ash dump oversight back to the states. He has proposed to repeal mercury and air toxics emissions limits and compliance procedures. He withdrew stricter standards for wastewater discharges from the meat and poultry industry that can cause oxygen-depleting algal blooms lethal to fish and contaminate drinking water.

To justify such sweeping cutbacks, which threaten the health of people, wildlife, and entire ecosystems, the Trump administration claims it is saving taxpayers billions of dollars in “waste” when in fact it is rewarding the polluting industries that have bankrolled Republican campaigns for decades.

The smokescreen of “waste” also obscures the goal of conservatives, as laid out loud and clear in the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 blueprint, to ignore environmental injustice in communities of color that have endured centuries of displacement, disinvestment, discrimination, and disproportionate pollution. The Biden administration EPA identified a $625-billion backlog in drinking water infrastructure needs, a critical issue for African American communities exposed to lead via multiple sources, including tainted drinking water.

Benefits of Renewal
A pair of eagles perched over the Penobscot River in Maine look for lunch. 
(Photo by Derrick Z, Jackson)



Cleaning up US waterways not only benefits public health, it also benefits the economy. The Environmental Data and Governance Initiative, a nonprofit research collaborative, estimates that the $2.5 billion in canceled grants would have resulted in $6.4 billion worth of economic activity and created 65,000 jobs. The Supreme Court’s ruling that puts wetlands at risk, meanwhile, will undermine the critical role they play as nurseries for the nation’s commercial and recreational fisheries that were worth at least $321 billion in 2022 and accounted for 2.3 million jobs.

Clean water also is vitally important for the outdoor recreation industry. In 2022 alone, Americans spent nearly $400 billion on fishing, hunting, and wildlife watching. Then there are the health threats to consider. A 2024 report by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention estimated that waterborne pathogens annually cause more than 7 million illnesses, 118,000 hospitalizations, and 6,630 deaths at a cost of $3.33 billion.

The Trump administration’s attack on environmental safeguards comes amid a string of good news stories directly tied to the Clean Water Act. Examples include:This fall, Chicago held its first sanctioned swim in the Chicago River since 1927 to celebrate a recovery that earned the waterway this year’s Thiess International River Prize.
Other US rivers that have won the Thiess Prize recently include the James River in Virginia, the San Antonio River in Texas, the Niagara River in New York, and my hometown Charles River.
Out West, dam removals at the behest of Indian nations enabled Indigenous kayakers to be the first people in more than a century to navigate the Klamath River—a Thiess Prize finalist and American River’s 2024 River of the Year—all the way from its headwaters in the Cascade mountains to the Pacific Ocean. Spawning salmon are swimming upstream once more.

In 2022, on the 50th anniversary of the Clean Water Act, the National Wildlife Federation published a report that singled out four rivers as emblematic success stories: the Columbia, Des Plaines, Potomac, and Cuyahoga, which famously caught on fire in 1969.


Much More Work to Do



A heron snatches a sunfish out of the Charles River. 
(Photo by Derrick Z. Jackson)

This is not the time to turn back the clock. Although the Chicago River is now clean enough to swim in again, 68% of Chicago children below the age of 6 drink lead-contaminated water. And, according to the EPA’s own data, at least half of the US population drinks water contaminated by PFAS, the so-called “forever chemicals” that have been linked to cancer and other diseases.

The EPA’s National Rivers and Streams Assessment, updated last year, found that the percentage of rivers and streams with healthy and diverse fish communities increased from 25% to 35%—not even close to half. According to the assessment, nearly half of rivers and streams are still in fair or poor condition for fish.

More work also needs to be done on the rivers I visited earlier this year. Mercury remediation efforts have just begun on the Penobscot, for example. During heavy rains, the Charles is still at the mercy of antiquated pipes that discharge raw sewage into it.

Acclaimed author Maya Angelou explained perfectly why we need to clean up our rivers. “When we cast our bread upon the waters,” she wrote, “we can presume that someone downstream whose face we will never know will benefit from our action, as we who are downstream from another will profit from that grantor’s gift.”

As a paddler and river rambler, I have certainly profited from the gift of a half century of clean water protections, marveling at heron spearing herring and eagles careening in the sky. We are so close into turning once-toxic waters into wildlife refuges and are so much more aware—especially after the Flint water crisis—of the value of pristine drinking water.

The question is whether the nation values its water enough to resist this wholesale attack on environmental protections. It is crystal clear what levels of pollution the Trump administration is willing to cast upon the waters. We should not have to wait for another young girl to write a letter about dead fish floating in a river to get a senator’s attention.

This article first appeared at the Money Trail blog and is reposted here at Common Dreams with permission.

Monday, July 14, 2025

The deepening water shortage row between the US and Mexico


Will Grant
BBC
Mexico, Central America and Cuba Correspondent
Reporting from Chihuahua
JULY 13, 2025

BBC
Water levels in Lake Toronto, a reservoir in the north of Mexico, are said to be critically low

After the thirtieth consecutive month without rain, the townsfolk of San Francisco de Conchos in the northern Mexican state of Chihuahua gather to plead for divine intervention.

On the shores of Lake Toronto, the reservoir behind the state's most important dam – called La Boquilla, a priest leads local farmers on horseback and their families in prayer, the stony ground beneath their feet once part of the lakebed before the waters receded to today's critically low levels.

Among those with their heads bowed is Rafael Betance, who has voluntarily monitored La Boquilla for the state water authority for 35 years.

"This should all be underwater," he says, motioning towards the parched expanse of exposed white rocks.

"The last time the dam was full and caused a tiny overflow was 2017," Mr Betance recalls. "Since then, it's decreased year on year.

"We're currently at 26.52 metres below the high-water mark, less than 14% of its capacity."


Rafael Betance says that water levels in the reservoir have fallen for the past eight years


Little wonder the local community is beseeching the heavens for rain. Still, few expect any let up from the crippling drought and sweltering 42C (107.6F) heat.

Now, a long-running dispute with Texas over the scarce resource is threatening to turn ugly.

Under the terms of a 1944 water-sharing agreement, Mexico must send 430 million cubic metres of water per year from the Rio Grande to the US.

The water is sent via a system of tributary channels into shared dams owned and operated by the International Boundary and Water Commission (IBWC), which oversees and regulates water-sharing between the two neighbours.

In return, the US sends its own much larger allocation (nearly 1.85 billion cubic metres a year) from the Colorado River to supply the Mexican border cities of Tijuana and Mexicali.

Mexico is in arrears and has failed to keep up with its water deliveries for much of the 21st Century.




Following pressure from Republican lawmakers in Texas, the Trump administration warned Mexico that water could be withheld from the Colorado River unless it fulfils its obligations under the 81-year-old treaty.

In April, on his Truth Social account, US President Donald Trump accused Mexico of "stealing" the water and threatened to keep escalating to "TARIFFS, and maybe even SANCTIONS" until Mexico sends Texas what it owes. Still, he gave no firm deadline by when such retaliation might happen.

For her part, the Mexican President, Claudia Sheinbaum, acknowledged Mexico's shortfall but struck a more conciliatory tone.

Since then, Mexico has transferred an initial 75 million cubic metres of water to the US via their shared dam, Amistad, located along the border, but that is just a fraction of the roughly 1.5 billion cubic metres of Mexico's outstanding debt.

Feelings on cross-border water sharing can run dangerously high: in September 2020, two Mexican people were killed in clashes with the National Guard at La Boquilla's sluice gates as farmers tried to stop the water from being redirected.

Amid the acute drought, the prevailing view in Chihuahua is that "you can't take from what isn't there", says local expert Rafael Betance.

But that doesn't help Brian Jones to water his crops.

A fourth-generation farmer in the Rio Grande Valley in Texas, for the past three years he has only been able to plant half of his farm because he doesn't have enough irrigation water.

"We've been battling Mexico as they've not been living up to their part of the deal," he says. "All we're asking for is what's rightfully ours under the treaty, nothing extra."

Mr Jones also disputes the extent of the problem in Chihuahua. He believes that in October 2022 the state received more than enough water to share, but released "exactly zero" to the US, accusing his neighbours of "hoarding water and using it to grow crops to compete with us".

Farmers on the Mexican side read the agreement differently. They say it only binds them to send water north when Mexico can satisfy its own needs, and argue that Chihuahua's ongoing drought means there's no excess available.

Beyond the water scarcity, there are also arguments over agricultural efficiency.

Walnut trees and alfalfa are two of the main crops in Chihuahua's Rio Conchos Valley, both of which require a lot of watering – walnut trees need on average 250 litres a day.

Traditionally, Mexican farmers have simply flooded their fields with water from the irrigation channel. Driving around the valley one quickly sees walnut trees sitting in shallow pools, the water flowing in from an open pipe.

The complaint from Texas is obvious: the practice is wasteful and easily avoided with more responsible and sustainable farming methods.


Many Mexican walnut farmers flood their fields with irrigation water

As Jaime Ramirez walks through his walnut groves, the former mayor of San Francisco de Conchos shows me how his modern sprinkler system ensures his walnut trees are properly watered all year round without wasting the precious resource.

"With the sprinklers, we use around 60% less than flooding the fields," he says. The system also means they can water the trees less frequently, which is particularly useful when the Rio Conchos is too low to allow local irrigation.

Mr Ramirez readily admits, though, that some of his neighbours aren't so conscientious. As a former local mayor, he urges understanding.

Some haven't adopted the sprinkler method because of the costs in setting it up, he says. He's tried to show other farmers that it works out cheaper in the long run, saving on energy and water costs.

But farmers in Texas must also understand that their counterparts in Chihuahua are facing an existential threat, Mr Ramirez insists.


Walnut farmer Jaime Ramirez admits that some of his neighbours are wasteful with water

"This is a desert region and the rains haven't come. If the rain doesn't come again this year, then next year there simply won't be any agriculture left. All the available water will have to be conserved as drinking water for human beings," he warns.

Many in northern Mexico believe the 1944 water-sharing treaty is no longer fit for purpose. Mr Ramirez thinks it may have been adequate for conditions eight decades ago, but it has failed to adapt with the times or properly account for population growth or the ravages of climate change.

Back across the border, Texan farmer Brian Jones says the agreement has stood the test of time and should still be honoured.

"This treaty was signed when my grandfather was farming. It's been through my grandfather, my father and now me," he says.

"Now we're seeing Mexico not comply. It's very angering to have a farm where I'm only able to plant half the ground because I don't have irrigation water."

Trump's tougher stance has given the local farmers "a pep in our step", he adds.

Meanwhile, the drought hasn't just harmed farming in Chihuahua.

With Lake Toronto's levels so low, Mr Betance says the remaining water in the reservoir is heating up with uncommon speed and creating a potential disaster for the marine life which sustains a once-thriving tourism industry.

The valley's outlook hasn't been this dire, Mr Betance says, in the entire time he's spent carefully recording the lake's ups and downs. "Praying for rain is all we have left," he reflects.

Additional reporting by Angélica Casas.

Saturday, July 12, 2025

A Tale Of Two Nations: The North Aral Sea Rebounds While The South Aral Sea Dries Up

– Analysis



Abandoned ship near Aral, Kazakhstan. Photo Credit: Staecker, Wikipedia Commons

July 12, 2025 

By John Divinagracia


Once a thriving inland sea, the Aral has become a cautionary tale of ecological collapse, political neglect, and uneven recovery, as efforts in Kazakhstan are bringing about a slow revival in the north, while Uzbekistan’s extractivist priorities leave the south gasping for life.

Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime. But what happens when the learned fisherman finds no fish at all?

This has been one of numerous problems plaguing the fisherfolk around the Aral Sea, a shallow basin of salt water straddling the boundary between Kazakhstan to the north and Uzbekistan to the south. Once the world’s fourth-largest body of inland water east of the Caspian Sea, the Aral Sea has suffered ongoing calamities wrought by the fall of the Soviet Union and exacerbated by the negligence of modern societies. Both the ecosystems and the locals relying on the Aral Sea have undergone drastic changes due to the scarcity of resources like water.

This pointlessly wasted, pristine land on Earth is the epicenter of an ecological and economic tragedy that continues to affect the surrounding nations and communities. From the fisherfolk and farmers in Uzbekistan’s and Kazakhstan’s rural countryside to the worsening climate of Central Asia, the Aral Sea’s demise is tied to the fates of those dependent on the basin’s bounties. In the end, what use is a man’s knowledge in fishing when there are no more fish to catch?

The Shrinking of the Aral Sea


In an era before the industrialization of humanity, the Aral Sea was a vast oasis in the desert landscapes of Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. Formed toward the end of the Neogene Period (lasting from about 23 to 2.6 million years ago), the Aral Sea has relied on two rivers—the Syr Darya and Amu Darya—to regulate and maintain its high water level and temperature. Although technically classified as a lake due to its lack of a direct outlet to the ocean, its sheer size of 26,000 square miles imprinted upon its residents a desire to call this large basin of salt water a sea.

Yet this sea-like lake endured a terrible castration at the red hands of the USSR. In the 1960s, the Soviet Union undertook a major water diversion project on the arid plains of Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, and Turkmenistan. The Syr Darya and Amu Darya—carrying snowmelt and precipitation from faraway mountains, across the Kyzylkum Desert, and toward the Aral Sea—were diverted from their original course to feed vast hectares of Soviet-owned cotton farms. By 1980, Central Asia’s production quotas reached 9 million metric tons, making it the world’s fourth-largest producer of cotton.


However, the cost of taking fourth place meant that the Aral Sea lost its position as the fourth-largest body of inland water. Once the Aral Sea began drying up, tears flowed from fisheries and communities that depended on the lake. Fertilizer and pesticides from cotton production, paired with toxic chemicals from a derelict Soviet weapons testing facility, polluted the salty water, killing off fish and damaging the nearby soil. Strong winds would blow down upon the exposed lake bed, and literal salt storms would swallow towns with hazardous particles that cause respiratory diseases and cancer. The loss of the moderating influence of such a large body of water also made summers hotter and winters colder.

Fortunately, the Aral Sea is gradually recovering. With efforts ranging from planting black saxaul trees to slow the encroaching dunes to building multimillion-dollar dams such as the Kok-Aral dam, the various conservation and preservation programs from the UN and other organizations have revitalized an oasis from the brink of doom. Still, terraformation is a long and arduous process, and the countries and communities still reliant on the Aral Sea’s dwindling resources continue to suffer the loss of their precious sea.

A Tale of Two Countries

The good news is that water is gradually returning to the Aral Sea. The bad news is that it remains a desiccated and salted wasteland. To understand the paradox, a tale of two countries must be told. Uzbekistan to the south and Kazakhstan to the north are the two Central Asian nations that rely heavily on the Aral Sea. In this way, the sea is divided into two sections: the North Aral Sea in Kazakhstan and the South Aral Sea in Uzbekistan. Long after the Soviet Union’s sickle reaped cotton while its hammer pulverized the people reliant on the Aral Sea, both nations have struggled to ameliorate their side of the sea with varying degrees of success. Only Kazakhstan has managed to remedy its side of the Aral.

With a $87 million rescue fund from the World Bank, the nation constructed a 7.5-mile-long dyke across the narrow channel connecting the North Aral Sea to the South Aral Sea. The project aimed to reduce the amount of water spilling out into the southernmost side of the Aral Sea in addition to improving existing channels of the Syr Darya (which snakes northwards from Kazakhstan’s Tian Shan Mountains) to boost the flow of water into the North Aral Sea. In the summer of 2005, the Kok-Aral dam resulted in a 3.3-meter (10.8-foot) increase in water levels after seven months. The fishing industry in the city of Aralsk and others has prospered since then.

Uzbekistan tells a different story. Rather than constructing a dam, the Uzbek government planted black saxaul trees and other drought-resistant species to curb erosion and slow down dust storms. And while they have adapted to thrive in sandy soil environments like coastal dunes and desert regions, these psammophytes are not enough to prevent the Aral Sea from drying up, especially when Uzbek politics is draining it dry.

Following the same course as the Soviet Union, Uzbekistan has allocated its agricultural abilities to becoming a major exporter of water-intensive cotton, a main staple of the economy. Millions of people have worked—many for years—in forced labor campaigns from former Soviet or current Uzbek governments, further depleting water resources from the Aral Sea. The discovery of natural gas and oil in the Aral Sea’s dried seabed also encouraged the Uzbek government to pursue more white and black gold rather than restore the lake to its aquamarine glory. As of 2023, Uzbekistan was the tenth-largest cotton exporter in the world (China, the United States, India, and Brazil were the top four).

Due to Uzbekistan’s persistent focus on cotton and oil, there is a lack of attention to reviving the Aral Sea. The fish and fisherfolk who suffer the most from the troubles that have afflicted them since the Soviet Union are in dire straits. Compressing bleeding wounds matters little when the daggers are still stabbing, and the Aral Sea will continue to leak and dry up if steps are not taken to mend the issues that started the sea’s shrinking.

Teach a Person to Fish

While the North Aral Sea has recovered, the South Aral Sea has become a desolate and desecrated wasteland, characterized by high salinity and a low chance of recovery. In spite of these grim tidings, some in Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and everywhere else have not surrendered the hope that the southern side of the Aral Sea—and the whole sea-like lake in general—will regain its 26,000 square miles of unpolluted and fish-flourishing water. Even now, there are continued efforts to rejuvenate the salinated and polluted soil and restore healthy water to the Aral Sea.

Aside from the continued operations of the Kok-Aral dam, phalanxes of black saxaul trees are still planted all over the Aral Sea and the terrain in need of these hardy shrubs. The United States Agency for International Development (USAID) has been using an innovative project called the Environmental Restoration of the Aral Sea (ERAS) to monitor the impact of the black saxaul on the surrounding ecosystems. Using a combination of EOS Data Analytics’ satellite imagery and cooperation with government bodies, the project has seen a partial yet positive growth in vegetation.

ERAS-I prioritized Kazakhstan’s afforestation in 2021. The following year, ERAS-II shifted to the Uzbek side of the Aral Sea. The “Oasis” Project, as it has been called, is a slow but tremendous step toward the resuscitation of the Aral Sea. Nations like China are actively participating in the “Green Silk Road” program, while the International Fund for Saving the Aral Sea—comprising Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan—ensures the collaboration of various interstate, environmental, scientific, and practical entities to educate everyone on the need to preserve the Aral Sea.

Fish have returned. Fishermen, too. And like the emblematic paradigms of Lake Chad in Africa or Lake Urmia in Iran, the Aral Sea is a poignant reminder of man’s misbegotten activities on the environment. Things may not be as pristine as they used to be on Earth, but we can teach the current generation and the next not to pointlessly waste resources or land.About the author: John Divinagracia is a writer and novelist. He is the author of It’s Always Snowing in Iberia (2021) and was a fellow at the 19th Ateneo National Writers Workshop in 2022. He is a writer at WorldAtlas and a contributing editor at the Observatory. He holds a cum laude degree in creative writing from Ateneo de Manila University in the Philippines.


Source: This article was produced by Earth | Food | Life, a project of the Independent Media Institute.

John Divinagracia is a writer and novelist. He is the author of It's Always Snowing in Iberia (2021) and was a fellow at the 19th Ateneo National Writers Workshop in 2022. He is a writer at WorldAtlas and a contributing editor at the Observatory. He holds a cum laude degree in creative writing from Ateneo de Manila University in the Philippines.