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Friday, September 06, 2024

Al Jazeera
EDITOR'S ANALYSIS

What killing of Hindu teen by India cow vigilantes tells us about Modi 3.0


What happens when vigilantes, emboldened by the BJP, shoot a Hindu teenager dead after a 40km chase, ‘mistaking’ him for a Muslim?

Pawan Pandit, a cow vigilante, stops a truck at a road block near Chandigarh, India [File: Cathal McNaughton/Reuters]
By Nadim Asrar
Published On 6 Sep 20246 Sep 2024



At about 1am on August 24, Aryan Mishra, a 19-year-old 12th-grade student received a phone call.

Two of his friends, both sons of Mishra’s landlord, wanted him to join them for a late-night snack – noodles, according to reports.


Keep reading

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Mishra soon joined them, grabbing the passenger seat in the landlord’s red SUV in a middle-class neighbourhood in Faridabad, a city in Haryana state on the outskirts of the national capital, New Delhi.

One of the brothers, Harshit Gulati, was at the wheel, while his elder sibling, Shankey Gulati, 26, was in the rear with their mother Sujata Gulati and her friend Kirti Sharma, according to Indian media reports.

As they drove along the largely empty streets of Faridabad, a car with a flashing red and blue beacon on top of it tried to stop them, local media reports said. Such beacons are usually allowed only on government vehicles. But the illegal use of these beacons by private vehicles remains rampant – especially when the owner is politically influential.

Details of what happened next are hazy and are being investigated by the police. But according to most reports, the car that Aryan and his friends were in tried to speed away from the chasing vehicle. Was that because they were just scared of being followed by an unknown car? Was it because Shankey, according to some reports, was accused in a separate attempted murder case, and his family thought they were being pursued by a police vehicle?

What is known is that a 40-kilometre (25-mile) chase followed. During the chase, a gunshot fired from the car behind hit Mishra on the shoulder. Harshit stopped the car. The men behind pulled up. One of them walked up to the car and pumped another bullet into Mishra’s neck from close range. The teenager was rushed to a local hospital, where he died.

Though the killing took place almost two weeks ago, its details are emerging only now, shocking and outraging the country.

Mishra had been killed in cold blood. But it is not that alone that has caused the outrage. It is the fact that Mishra was Hindu, killed by another Hindu – who thought he was Muslim.




The suspects were cow vigilantes, members of a nationwide right-wing Hindu militia, Gau Raksha Dal (GRD or Cow Protection Association), that claims to protect cows – considered holy by many Hindus – from slaughter, mainly by Muslim cattle traders.

Cow slaughter is banned or regulated in most Indian states.

The vigilantes have rarely faced the brunt of the law. Instead, it is their victims and their families who have often faced police cases and scrutiny over whether they were actually in possession of beef.

Against that backdrop, global and Indian rights groups believe these vigilantes operate under the patronage and protection of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) since the Hindu nationalist leader came to power a decade ago.

The BJP has denied that it is linked to these attacks, and in 2016, Modi publicly criticised vigilantes. But a cow vigilante in the southern state of Karnataka has received an election ticket from the BJP. Eight vigilantes convicted of lynching a 45-year-old Muslim meat trader were garlanded by a BJP minister in 2018. And the funeral of one of the men accused of lynching a Muslim man in 2015 was attended by another BJP minister.

The Gau Raksha Dal has chapters in almost half of the Indian states, mostly in the north. Their logo depicts the head of a cow, flanked by two automated rifles or a pair of daggers. The vigilantes are armed with guns and sticks and patrol the streets through a large network of WhatsApp groups. They are the judge, jury and executioner, delivering their deadly justice on the streets of India.

The vigilantes also share information about alleged incidents of cow slaughter or cattle smuggling with the police and are reported to have even joined police officers in conducting raids or arrests.

Since 2014, when Modi first came to power, nearly 50 cow-related lynchings of Muslim men have been reported – most victims are poor farmers or daily wage workers, who left behind grieving families staring at an uncertain future. In nearly all such incidents, no cow meat was found, only the battered and tortured – and often lifeless – bodies of the victims.

‘We killed our brother’


According to a report on The Print website, when the local police told Mishra’s father Siyanand they suspected the involvement of cow vigilantes in his son’s killing, he did not believe they could kill “one of their own” and asked to meet the alleged shooter, Anil Kaushik, who was in judicial custody.

During the meeting, Kaushik confessed to the distraught father that he regretted killing “a brother”, thinking he was a Muslim, and sought forgiveness. The report added that Kaushik did not know Mishra was a Brahmin, the most privileged class in India’s complicated caste hierarchy.

“This incident is a blot for us. This is the first time in a decade that such an incident has happened. It’s a sad truth that we killed our brother,” Shailendra Hindu, a member of Bajrang Dal, a far-right militia that runs the cow vigilante groups, told The Print.


Many Indian media outlets, meanwhile, called it a case of “mistaken” killing. This is India’s new normal: that the act of killing in itself is not a mistake, killing a Hindu is.

Only three days after Mishra was shot dead, a 26-year-old Muslim ragpicker, Sabir Malik, was lynched by a mob on August 27 in Charkhi Dadri, a town in Haryana, about 130km (80 miles) from Faridabad, over suspicions he had consumed beef.

Malik was a migrant worker from the eastern state of West Bengal. He lived in Charkhi Dadri with his wife and two-year-old daughter, according to media reports.

News reports cite the police as saying that there was a rumour in the area where Malik lived that some migrant workers had consumed beef. A group of men called Malik to a shop on the pretext of selling empty plastic bottles and beat him severely. When bystanders objected to the assault, the attackers took him to another village where he was beaten to death.

When asked about Malik’s killing, Haryana’s Chief Minister Nayab Singh Saini, from the BJP, said: “Who can stop them?” Moreover, in a pattern familiar with such cases, Saini blamed the deceased instead for allegedly violating cow protection laws.
Modi 3.0 no different?

When the BJP lost its absolute majority in the general elections three months ago and was forced to depend on dubious allies for political survival, many Indian political experts felt it had been humbled after running a divisive and anti-Muslim campaign ahead of the vote.

They said Modi 3.0 would be less threatening to the safety and dignity of India’s 200 million Muslims, and that the world’s most populous country would breathe the fresh air of inclusive politics and growth.

But continuing xenophobic attacks on India’s largest minority and killings of innocent men since then have belied those predictions, according to analysts.

Since Modi won a third straight term, there have been nearly half a dozen cases of cow-related lynchings across India. Several homes have been bulldozed over suspicion the Muslims living in them had stored beef in their refrigerators. Last month, an elderly Muslim man travelling by train was brutally beaten by a group of men over suspicions he was carrying beef. A viral video of the incident showed the traumatised man being abused and hit by several men as others in the coach watched and filmed the assault.



Why cow vigilante crimes continue


But why is the BJP, weakened in parliament, not cracking down on – and if its critics are to be believed, actually facilitating – such attacks? It is not difficult to comprehend. The party cannot be seen to be alienating its core Hindu supremacist base when assembly elections are due in some key states later this year, including Haryana, where the Faridabad and Charkhi Dadri incidents happened.

Many analysts say that such vigilante attacks achieve a dual purpose. They say the attacks allow the government deniability in the face of international criticism since the state is not directly involved in the killings. At the same time, they feed the anti-Muslim narrative on the ground that helps galvanise the BJP’s primary voters.

In this, the BJP is aided by the unflinching adulation and support of a large section of pliant and uncritical mainstream media, now known in Hindi by many as “godi media”, a leading journalist’s vivid translation of “lapdog media”.

In his 2021 book, Modi’s India, Christophe Jaffrelot, professor of Indian politics and sociology at King’s College London, wrote that Hindu militias such as the GRD were participating in the making of an “unofficial” Hindu state.

Jaffrelot said such groups were cogs in a giant wheel called the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), a men-only far-right group formed in 1925 on the lines of European fascist parties, which counts Modi and millions of other Hindus as its lifetime members. The BJP is the political wing of the RSS.

“The Indian state was built up around a bureaucracy handed down from the British, but there remained the task of forming a Hindu state, and vigilantes are working to that end,” he wrote in his book, with an emphasis on “forming”.

It is in this context that what happened on August 24 in Faridabad, or in Charkhi Dadri only three days after that, should be seen. Is either killing legitimate? If not, why has one shocked the nation, described by many as a “mistake”?

And why has the other killing, like dozens before it, been reduced to yet another statistic in a long list of mob lynchings, unworthy of sympathy and outrage, or banner headlines on a newspaper’s front page?

Tuesday, September 03, 2024

 

The War on Food and the War on Humanity: Platforms of Control and the Unbreakable Spirit

Max Weber (1864-1920) was a prominent German sociologist who developed influential theories on rationality and authority. He examined different types of rationality that underpinned systems of authority. He argued that modern Western societies were based on legal-rational authority and had moved away from systems that were based on traditional authority and charismatic authority.

Traditional authority derives its power from long-standing customs and traditions, while charismatic authority is based on the exceptional personal qualities or charisma of a leader.

According to Weber, the legal-rational authority that characterises Western capitalist industrial society is based on instrumental rationality that focuses on the most efficient means to achieve given ends. This type of rationality manifest in bureaucratic power. Weber contrasted this with another form of rationality: value rationality that is based on conscious beliefs in the inherent value of certain behaviour.

While Weber saw the benefits of instrumental rationality in terms of increased efficiency, he feared that this could lead to a stifling “iron cage” of a rule-based order and rule following (instrumental rationality) as an end in itself. The result would be humanity’s “polar night of icy darkness.”

Today, technological change is sweeping across the planet and presents many challenges. The danger is of a technological iron cage in the hands of an elite that uses technology for malevolent purposes.

Lewis Coyne of Exeter University says:

We do not — or should not — want to become a society in which things of deeper significance are appreciated only for any instrumental value. The challenge, therefore, is to delimit instrumental rationality and the technologies that embody it by protecting that which we value intrinsically, above and beyond mere utility.

He adds that we must decide which technologies we are for, to what ends, and how they can be democratically managed, with a view to the kind of society we wish to be.

A major change that we have seen in recent years is the increasing dominance of cloud-based services and platforms. In the food and agriculture sector, we are seeing the rollout of these phenomena tied to a techno solutionist ‘data-driven’ or ‘precision’ agriculture legitimised by ‘humanitarian’ notions of ‘helping farmers’, ‘saving the planet’ and ‘feeding the world’ in the face of some kind of impending Malthusian catastrophe.

A part-fear mongering, part-self-aggrandisement narrative promoted by those who have fuelled ecological devastation, corporate dependency, land dispossession, food insecurity and farmer indebtedness as a result of the global food regime that they helped to create and profited from. Now, with a highly profitable but flawed carbon credit trading scheme and a greenwashed technology-driven eco-modernism, they are going to save humanity from itself.

The world according to Bayer

In the agrifood sector, we are seeing the rollout of data-driven or precision approaches to agriculture by the likes of MicrosoftSyngenta, Bayer and Amazon centred on cloud-based data information services. Data-driven agriculture mines data to be exploited by the agribusiness/big tech giants to instruct farmers what and how much to produce and what type of proprietary inputs they must purchase and from whom.

Data owners (Microsoft, Amazon, Alphabet etc.), input suppliers (Bayer, Corteva, Syngenta, Cargill etc.) and retail concerns (Amazon, Walmart etc) aim to secure the commanding heights of the global agrifood economy through their monopolistic platforms.

But what does this model of agriculture look like in practice?

Let us use Bayer’s digital platform Climate FieldView as an example. It collects data from satellites and sensors in fields and on tractors and then uses algorithms to advise farmers on their farming practices: when and what to plant, how much pesticide to spray, how much fertiliser to apply etc.

To be part of Bayer’s Carbon Program, farmers have to be enrolled in FieldView. Bayer then uses the FieldView app to instruct farmers on the implementation of just two practices that are said to sequester carbon in the soils: reduced tillage or no-till farming and the planting of cover crops.

Through the app, the company monitors these two practices and estimates the amount of carbon that the participating farmers have sequestered. Farmers are then supposed to be paid according to Bayer’s calculations, and Bayer uses that information to claim carbon credits and sell these in carbon markets.

Bayer also has a programme in the US called ForGround. Upstream companies can use the platform to advertise and offer discounts for equipment, seeds and other inputs.

For example, getting more farmers to use reduced tillage or no-till is of huge benefit to Bayer (sold on the basis of it being ‘climate friendly’). The kind of reduced tillage or no-till promoted by Bayer requires dousing fields with its RoundUp (toxic glyphosate) herbicide and planting seeds of its genetically engineered Roundup resistant soybeans or hybrid maize.

And what of the cover crops referred to above? Bayer also intends to profit from the promotion of cover crops. It has taken majority ownership of a seed company developing a gene-edited cover crop, called CoverCress. Seeds of CoverCress will be sold to farmers who are enrolled in ForGround and the crop will be sold as a biofuel.

But Bayer’s big target is the downstream food companies which can use the platform to claim emissions reductions in their supply chains.

Agribusiness corporations and the big tech companies are jointly developing carbon farming platforms to influence farmers on their choice of inputs and farming practices (big tech companies, like Microsoft and IBM, are major buyers of carbon credits).

The non-profit GRAIN says (see the article The corporate agenda behind carbon farming) that Bayer is gaining increasing control over farmers in various countries, dictating exactly how they farm and what inputs they use through its ‘Carbon Program’.

GRAIN argues that, for corporations, carbon farming is all about increasing their control within the food system and is certainly not about sequestering carbon.

Digital platforms are intended to be one-stop shops for carbon credits, seeds, pesticides and fertilisers and agronomic advice, all supplied by the company, which gets the added benefit of control over the data harvested from the participating farms.

Technofeudalism

Yanis Varoufakis, former finance minister of Greece, argues that what we are seeing is a shift from capitalism to technofeudalism. He argues that tech giants like Apple, Meta and Amazon act as modern-day feudal lords. Users of digital platforms (such as companies or farmers) essentially become ‘cloud serfs’, and ‘rent’ (fees, data etc) is extracted from them for being on a platform.

In feudalism (land) rent drives the system. In capitalism, profits drive the system. Varoufakis says that markets are being replaced by algorithmic ‘digital fiefdoms’.

Although digital platforms require some form of capitalist production, as companies like Amazon need manufacturers to produce goods for their platforms, the new system represents a significant shift in power dynamics, favouring those who own and control the platforms.

Whether this system is technofeudalism, hypercapitalism or something else is open to debate. But we should at least be able to agree on one thing: the changes we are seeing are having profound impacts on economies and populations that are increasingly surveilled as they are compelled to shift their lives online.

The very corporations that are responsible for the problems of the prevailing food system merely offer more of the same, this time packaged in a  genetically engineered, ecomodernist, fake-green wrapping (see the online article From net zero to glyphosate: agritech’s greenwashed corporate power grab).

Elected officials are facilitating this by putting the needs of monopolistic global interests ahead of ordinary people’s personal freedoms and workers’ rights, as well as the needs of independent local producers, enterprises and markets.

For instance, the Indian government has in recent times signed memoranda of understanding (MoU) with Amazon, Bayer, Microsoft and Syngenta to rollout data-driven, precision agriculture. A ‘one world agriculture’ under their control based on genetically engineered seeds, laboratory created products that resemble food and farming without farmers, with the entire agrifood chain, from field (or lab) to retail in their hands.

This is part of a broader strategy to shift hundreds of millions out of agriculture, ensure India’s food dependence on foreign corporations and eradicate any semblance of food democracy (or national sovereignty).

In response, a ‘citizen letter’ (July 2024) was sent to the government. It stated that it is not clear what the Indian Council of Agricultural Research (ICAR) will learn from Bayer that the well-paid public sector scientists of the institution cannot develop themselves. The letter says entities that have been responsible for causing an economic and environmental crisis in Indian agriculture are being partnered by ICAR for so-called solutions when these entities are only interested in their profits and not sustainability (or any other nomenclature they use).

The letter raises some key concerns. Where is the democratic debate on carbon credit markets. Is the ICAR ensuring that the farmers get the best rather than biased advice that boosts the further rollout of proprietary products? Is there a system in place for the ICAR to develop research and education agendas from the farmers it is supposed to serve as opposed to being led by the whims and business ideas of corporations?

The authors of the letter note that copies of the MoUs are not being shared proactively in the public domain by the ICAR. The letter asks that the ICAR suspends the signed MoUs, shares all details in the public domain and desists from signing any more such MoUs without necessary public debate.

Valuing humanity

Genuine approaches to addressing the challenges humanity faces are being ignored by policymakers or cynically attacked by corporate lobbyists. These solutions involve systemic shifts in agricultural, food and economic systems with a focus on low consumption (energy) lifestyles, localisation and an ecologically sustainable agroecology.

As activist John Wilson says, this is based on creative solutions, a connection to nature and the land, nurturing people, peaceful transformation and solidarity.

This is something discussed in the recent article From Agrarianism to Transhumanism: The Long March to Dystopia in which it is argued that co-operative labour, fellowship and our long-standing spiritual connection to the land should inform how as a society we should live. This stands in stark contrast to the values and impacts of capitalism and technology based on instrumental rationality and too often fuelled by revenue streams and the goal to control populations.

When we hear talk of a ‘spiritual connection’, what is meant by ‘spiritual’? In a broad sense it can be regarded as a concept that refers to thoughts, beliefs and feelings about the meaning of life, rather than just physical existence. A sense of connection to something greater than ourselves. Something akin to Weber’s concept of value rationality. The spiritual, the diverse and the local are juxtaposed with the selfishness of modern urban society, the increasing homogeneity of thought and practice and an instrumental rationality which becomes an end in itself.

Having a direct link with nature/the land is fundamental to developing an appreciation of a type of ‘being’ and an ‘understanding’ that results in a reality worth living in.

However, what we are seeing is an agenda based on a different set of values rooted in a lust for power and money and the total subjugation of ordinary people being rammed through under the false promise of techno solutionism (transhumanism, vaccines in food, neural laces to detect moods implanted in the skull, programmable digital money, track and trace technology etc.) and some distant notion of a techno utopia that leave malevolent power relations intact and unchallenged.

Is this then to be humanity’s never-ending “polar night of icy darkness”? Hopefully not. This vision is being imposed from above. Ordinary people (whether, for example, farmers in India or those being beaten down through austerity policies) find themselves on the receiving end of a class war being waged against them by a mega rich elite.

Indeed, in 1941, Herbert Marcuse stated that technology could be used as an instrument for control and domination. Precisely the agenda of the likes of Bayer, the Gates Foundation, BlackRock and the World Bank, which are trying to eradicate genuine diversity and impose a one-size-fits-all model of thinking and behaviour.

A final thought courtesy of civil rights campaigner  Frederick Douglass in a speech from 1857:

Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will. Find out just what any people will quietly submit to and you have found out the exact measure of injustice and wrong which will be imposed upon them, and these will continue till they are resisted with either words or blows, or with both. The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress.

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Colin Todhunter is an independent writer specialising in development, food and agriculture. You can read his new e-book Food, Dependency and Dispossession: Resisting the New World Order for free hereRead other articles by Colin.

Saturday, August 31, 2024

 Environment

The Indus Water Treaty



Thursday 29 August 2024, by Mohammad Ebad Athar, Mona Bhan

To minimize these impacts, experts recommend climate-proofing the Indus Water Treaty (IWT), a treaty that was brokered by the World Bank in 1960 to avert water wars between India and Pakistan over their shared transboundary rivers. The treaty allocated the three Eastern rivers of the Indus River basin — the Sutlej, Ravi and Beas — to India, and the Western rivers of the basin which included the Jhelum, Chenab and Indus, to Pakistan.

But scholars have argued that the allocation of the rivers was a diversionary tactic, meant to undermine Kashmiri sovereignty in the international dispute over Kashmir’s contested territory. [1]

The IWT reconciled significant legal concerns with water rights through technical-engineering resolutions, a concessionary approach that erased any meaningful and long-lasting conversations on equitable and sustainable water-sharing approaches in the sub-continent.

The Indus Water Treaty ended up privileging India and Pakistan’s sovereign control over Kashmir’s rivers, while making it impossible for Kashmiris to exert their legal and political rights over critical river resources. That legacy continues in current debates about climate proofing the IWT.

Kashmir exists in the crosshairs of climate change and Indo-Pakistani geopolitical tensions. Climate-proofing the IWT, we argue, will only serve to greenwash India and Pakistan’s extractive control over the Indus River Basin.

Mother India in Labor

On July 8th, 1954, Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru gave an impromptu speech at the opening ceremony for the Bhakra Canal. He praised the canal’s construction noting that “Mother India is in labor” and “producing things big and small.”

Awed by his country’s ability to construct such a large-scale infrastructure, Nehru compared the project to “the noblest temples, Gurdwaras, churches and mosques to be found anywhere.… I feel more religious minded when I see these works,” he proclaimed. [2]

Several months later, at the official inauguration ceremony for the Bhakra-Nangal dam, Nehru’s remarks still articulated wonder and pride for the project. The Prime Minister thanked and congratulated the engineers and foreign advisers involved in the construction, but he also devoted a significant portion of his speech to “all the people,” acknowledging “their hard toll and sacrifice.”

Reminding the crowd to “remember them and all those who have put their sweat and blood” into the dam’s construction, Nehru implored India to “befriend the river Sutlej.” Laying down concrete as part of the cere­mony, he exclaimed how the dam was “one of the great victories over nature.”(3) [3]

Nehru’s celebratory language and the sacredness attributed to the dam camouflaged the Indian state’s colonial appetite for Kashmir and its rivers, a Muslim-majority territory over which both India and Pakistan claimed sovereignty. The popular imaginaries of dams as India’s modern-day temples aligned well with Hinduized narratives of the river Indus as a male warrior God, and of the Indus and Kashmir as cradles of Hindu civilization. [4]

Yet the ceremonies and Nehru’s remarks omitted some key stakes. In the early 1950s, Pakistan was entirely dependent on the waters of the Indus, which flowed through India and Kashmir before reaching Pakistan. During his July remarks, Nehru did not mention how India, without Pakistan’s knowledge, withheld the flow of the Sutlej River to Pakistan “in order to accumulate a good head of water for the opening ceremony.” [5]

This not only contributed to an increased anxiety in Pakistan that India would take control of the entire basin, but also impacted Pakistani farmers who relied on that water supply.

But the second and perhaps most significant consequence of this state building effort was how it further subjugated and silenced Kashmiri sovereignty over the Western rivers of the Indus Basin — Jhelum, Chenab, and the Indus — portions of which flow through Jammu and Kashmir.

As India remained invested in building the Indian state through dams, it was simultaneously cementing its colonial control over the disputed territory of Kashmir, whose unpopular Hindu ruler had provisionally acceded to India in 1947.

Although Nehru had promised Kashmiris that a UN-mandated free and impartial plebiscite would allow them to choose their own political fate, a series of interventions, including arrests and detentions of dissident Kashmiris, clamping down of free press, and the election of pliant client regimes, scuttled people’s rights to self-determination.

At the same time, the IWT became an instrument to dilute Kashmiri sovereignty over their land and water.

While the Indian state celebrated the construction of the Bhakra-Nangal Dam in 1954, control over the Indus River basin remained unresolved. Pakistan feared that the Bhakra Nangal project was part of a larger Indian objective to take full control of the basin’s water. The Chief of Staff of the Pakistan Air Force anticipated that “the summer of 1954 would be a most dangerous time as regards war with India.” [6]

Taking stock of this escalating situation, the British framed the Indus dispute as potentially “more dangerous than Kashmir,” claiming that the coming conflict in conjunction with Kashmir would further contribute “to a prolonged stalemate” over the political future of the disputed territory. [7]

Therefore, avoiding war in 1954 was paramount for the British, even at the expense of Kashmiri self-determination. The British believed that a negotiated settlement for the Indus dispute would serve that purpose.

The IWT Negotiations and Kashmir

The IWT was negotiated throughout the 1950s; as early as 1952 the British Foreign Office and the World Bank agreed that India and Pakistan should be dissuaded from negotiating along legalistic lines and instead encouraged to keep the deliberations at a technical level.

For example, when Pakistan hired the renowned American lawyer John Laylin to assist in its negotiations, Eugene Black, the lead American negotiator for the World Bank, advised Laylin against influencing the Pakistanis “along stiff and legalistic lines.” [8]

Rather, Black believed that “if this business can be left to the technical experts under the tactful management of the International Bank and with the prospect of some hard cash from the Bank for development if agreement can be reached, the discussion should go fairly smoothly.” [9]

The World Bank maintained it was of paramount importance to “reach an equitable agreement about the division of present water resources” and that to achieve this “it would be necessary to provide, partly at India’s expense … extensive water storage in Pakistan.” [10]

We might ask why both the British and American negotiators pushed for technical solutions in the Indus dispute despite the little progress that was made “in finding a solution either to the financial or to the engineering difficulties.” [11]

Why were technical solutions favored over legalistic ones, especially when Pakistani and Indian attitudes reflected a “right to water” approach? Majed Akther argues that American negotiators such as David Lilienthal and Eugene Black saw the Cold War development of the Indus River basin as the means to avert war between India and Pakistan. [12]

Here the context of impending war in 1954 remains important. The British realized that the “settlement of the Canal Waters dispute” was “becoming increasingly urgent since if it remains unsolved it will go on adding to the friction between India and Pak­istan.” “If it were solved,” the British argued, “the resulting release of tension would be considerable, and this would provide a better atmosphere in which to try to settle the Kashmir problem.” [13]

Daniel Haines argues that although the Kashmir issue and the Indus dispute were inextricably linked, the Americans and British had to disentangle Kashmir from the river dispute — and working with technically based solutions while trying to avoid legality did just that. Crafting an international management scheme for the Indus relied on relegating the question of Kashmir’s political future as indeterminate. [14]

Thus, water was political and “truly a matter of life and death” for Pakistan and India, but was considered apolitical when discussed in relation to Kashmir. [15]

As negotiations continued, international management schemes that relied on technical solutions found it difficult to reach a compromise between India and Pakistan. Indeed, the Indus dispute still lingered as of January 1, 1959, with India and Pakistan having failed “in negotiations (to find a compromise) in their dispute over the use of the Indus River.” [16]

While the World Bank’s reputation took a hit for failing to resolve the dispute, so too did the UN Security Council, which had tried unsuccessfully to settle the conflict throughout the 1950s. For the UN Security Council, the Indus dispute was an “undignified wrangle” and “damaging both to relations between India and Pakistan and to the prestige of the Security Council.” [17]

The British Commonwealth, alongside the World Bank and the Security Council, therefore attempted to “dissuade the Pakistanis from pursuing the idea of staging another row on Kashmir” by assuring Pakistan of the Commonwealth’s “readiness to consider” making “a reasonable financial contribution to the implementation of a settlement.” [18]

These international institutions strived for a resolution to the Indus dispute and attempted to avoid a “row” over Kashmir. Although the two issues were entangled, for peace between India and Pakistan, Kashmir had to be extricated from the Indus dispute discussions. The question of Kashmiri sovereignty and self-determination had to be avoided.

International Law and Its Limitations

The IWT is often framed as an international peace treaty that mitigates a large-scale war between India and Pakistan. However, while both states’ sovereignty over the Indus is protected and affirmed, Kashmiri legal rights are completely ignored.

As Fozia Lone observes, the treaty ignores the detrimental effect of non-participation on Kashmiris’ right to self-determination and sovereignty over their natural resources. [19]

When examining the treaty itself, this erasure is blatant. The principal actors, according to the treaty’s preamble, are “The Government of India and the Government of Pakistan,” both of which are “equally desirous of attaining the most complete and satisfactory utilisation of the waters of the Indus system of rivers.” [20]

Throughout the text of the treaty, the Kashmir issue is never mentioned nor is people’s sovereignty over waters located in Jammu Kashmir recognized. [21]

This erasure operates beyond merely excluding Kashmir from formal international legal structures. As Mona Bhan argues, the IWT, and the subsequent construction of multiple dams along the Indus River basin in Jammu and Kashmir, allows the Indian state to assert its sovereignty over the disputed territory.

In other words, dams become tools of occupation for the Indian nation-state that are legalized by international mechanisms such as the IWT.

In their work on the Mekong Basin, Chris Snedden and Coleen Fox illuminate how river basin institutions in the region manipulate discourses of cooperation in the creation of legal arrangements that are motivated by geostrategic aims. [22]

Like the IWT, the 1995 Mekong Agreement sets out to equitably distribute the Mekong waters to the basin’s principal actors (the riparian states along the basin) but also legalizes the ability of those states to utilize dams in counterinsurgency strategies, as is the case in Thailand with the Pak Mun dam. [23]

The IWT’s and international law’s routine failure to affirm Kashmir’s sovereignty and right to self-determination over resources located within its territory has resulted in significant consequences for the region. Massive Indian infrastructural investments and dams have transformed Kashmir’s landscape, displaced indigenous communities, and led to substantial changes in local weather conditions. [24]

Yet the IWT does not acknowledge environmental risks, and contains no mechanisms to combat the increase in earthquakes, floods, and avalanches as result of increased dam infrastructure. [25]

Furthermore, the IWT contains no provisions to address the predicament and proper compensation of displaced communities. Although international legal frameworks such as the 1962 UN Charter on the “Permanent Sovereignty over Natural Resources” and the 2007 UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples affirm a people’s permanent sovereignty over their natural resources, India continues to invest in water infrastructures that undermine Kashmiri sovereignty. [26]

The Hindu Right and the IWT

At 5:30 am on September 18, 2016, armed militants attacked an Indian army base at Uri in Indian-occupied Jammu and Kashmir, close to the Pakistani border. A heavily forested area, Uri is crisscrossed by the Jhelum River and several other streams of the Indus River basin. Seventeen Indian soldiers were killed in the attack.

The Indian director general of military operations, Lt. Gen. Ranbir Singh predictably denounced the militants as “foreign terrorists, supported and sent by Pakistan.” Moham­mad Nafees Zakaria, a spokesman for the Pakistani Ministry for Foreign Affairs, denied Singh’s allegations, instead asserting that India was trying to divert attention away from its oppression of Kashmir. [27]

For those observers familiar with the Kashmir dispute and Pakistan’s and India’s role within it, the Uri attack presents a familiar story in which attacks aimed at the Indian occupation of Jammu and Kashmir are framed by the Indian state as Pakistani-sponsored and sanctioned terror acts, with Pakistan denying Indian allegations, and Kashmiris left to deal with the subsequent consequences.

On the surface, it seems like the Uri attack would have nothing to do with India’s and Pakistan’s long-standing dispute over control of the Indus River basin. Yet Uri’s position along the Jhelum River became significant in the aftermath of the attack. Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, in a meeting to discuss the future of the IWT, declared that “blood and water can’t flow together.” [28]

Modi threatened to punish Pakistan diplomatically for its perceived involvement in the Uri attack by taking advantage of its geographic position along the Indus to cut off water flows into Pakistan. Modi essentially suggested that India violate the terms of the IWT and exert its full sovereignty over the Indus.

Modi’s infamous “blood and water cannot flow simultaneously” comment and the suspension of the Indus Water Commission meeting echoed previous arguments for isolating Pakistan diplomatically and legitimizing India’s “rightful” capture of water flowing into Pakistan. These comments contribute to growing Pakistani anxieties that India will act on its threat to cut off water flows into Pakistan.

Pakistan’s Advisor on Foreign Affairs and Security, Sartaj Aziz, responded to Modi’s call for India to block “Pakistan’s” water by calling it an act of war. Pakistan’s Indus Water Commissioner, Jamaat Ali Shah, responded by stating “What should we believe of what the Indian PM says: ending poverty or blocking flow of water into Pakistan. This is open economic terrorism.” [29]

Writing in Pakistan Today, Abbas Hasan cautioned that “the recent threat emanating from India not to honor the Indus Water Treaty (IWT) is a threat to Pakistan’s source of life and must be taken seriously.”

Hasan further argued that “Unless immediate measures are taken we will be risking the source of life in Pakistan.” [30] In an attempt to resolve this issue, Pakistan repeatedly sought out World Bank mediation in the Court of Arbitration. [31]

Kashmir, Pakistani pundits argue, remains the “jugular vein of Pakistan,” and any threat to “Kashmir’s accession to Pakistan” would significantly harm Pakistan’s economy and viability as an independent nation. [32]

Climate Devastation and Kashmiri Rights

India and Pakistan’s competitive sovereignties over the Indus basin ignore the devastating impacts of climate change on the future of the entire subcontinent.

While the IWT did not anticipate climate-induced changes in the basin, more recently experts have urged that the IWT must “evolve” in order to confront climate catastrophes, which could trigger extreme water scarcity, uncertain floods and droughts, unprecedented heat waves, migrant crises, and even a nuclear war in the sub-continent. [33]

Such reasoned arguments as Betsy Joles outlines to protect “the second-most overstressed aquifer in the world” by renegotiating the terms of the IWT run counter to Modi’s belligerent policies. We worry, however, that the outcomes are very similar for Kashmiris who find their rights and claims to their rivers ignored once again, this time under the pretext of environmental protection and impending climate disasters.

Such seemingly progressive demands to renegotiate the IWT must account for the rights of indigenous Kashmiri communities over their rivers and water bodies.

A just and meaningful “path to sustainability and stability” cannot ever be paved without accounting for the erasure of Kashmiris from the terms of the Indus Water Treaty. Nor can concerns of ecological health camouflage dominant political and economic interests of two nuclear powered states.

Against the Current

P.S.

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Footnotes

[1Mona Bhan, “Infrastructures of Occupation: Mobility, Immobility, and the Politics of Occupation in Kashmir,” In Kashmir and the Future of South Asia, edited by Sugata Bose and Ayesha Jalal. London: Routledge, 2021; Daniel Haines, Rivers Divided: Indus Basin Waters in the Making of India and Pakistan, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017; Fozia Lone, “Damming the Indus Waters: Thoughts on the Future of the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty and Himalayan Water Security,” Journal of Water Law 26 (2020): 207-222.

[2Dispute between Pakistan and India over the canal waters of the Indus River Basin, July-December 1954 (Folder 2),” 1954, Foreign Office (FO) 371/112325, Foreign Office Files for India, Pakistan and Afghanistan 1947-1964, The National Archives, 6.

[3“Nehru Opens Work on Bhakra Dam ‘Labour’s Gift to Prosperity,” The Indian Express, Nov. 18 1955 [Madras], news.google.com/newspapers?id=4WllAAAAIBAJ&sjid=IZQNAAAAIBAJ&pg=753%2C1027693.

[4Mona Bhan, “Infrastructures of Occupation,” 74

[5“Dispute between Pakistan and India over the canal waters of the Indus River Basin,” July-December 1954, (FO) 371/112325, Foreign Office Files for India, Pakistan and Afghanistan 1947-1964, The National Archives, 46.

[6Indus waters dispute between India and Pakistan,” FO 371/101218, 1952, Foreign Office Files for India, Pakistan and Afghanistan 1947-1964, The National Archives, 17.

[7“Indus waters dispute between India and Pakistan,” 15, 17.

[8“Indus waters dispute between India and Pakistan,” 8.

[9“Indus waters dispute between India and Pakistan,” 8.

[10“Discussions at UN on problem of Kashmir, March-April 1957 (Folder 10),” 1957, FO 371/129773, Foreign Office Files for India, Pakistan and Afghanistan, The National Archives, 67.

[11“Discussions at UN on problem of Kashmir, March-April 1957 (Folder 10),” 68.

[12Majed Akthar, “The Hydropolitical Cold War: The Indus Waters Treaty State Formation in Pakistan,” Political Geography 46 (2015): 69.

[13“Discussions at the UN on problem of Kashmir, March-April 1957 (Folder 10),” 68.

[14Haines, Rivers Divided, 78-79.

[15“Consideration of the possibility of breaking the deadlock likely to result from the failure of the arbitration proposals,” 1949, Dominions Office (DO) 134/9, Foreign Office Files for India, Pakistan and Afghanistan 1947-1964, The National Archives, 3-4.

[16“Dispute over Indus River between Pakistan and India, January-June 1959 (Folder 1),” 1959, FO 371/144470, Foreign Office Files for India, Pakistan and Afghanistan 1947-1964, The National Archives, 4.

[17“Dispute over the Indus River between Pakistan and India, January-June 1959 Folder 1)” 27.

[18“Dispute over the Indus River between Pakistan and India, January-June 1959 Folder 1),” 28.

[19Fozia Lone, “Damming the Indus Waters: Thoughts on the Future of the 1960 Indus Waters Treaty and Himalayan Water Security,” Journal of Water Law 26 (2020): 210.

[20The Indus Waters Treaty 1960, September 19, 1960, 2.

[21Mona Bhan, “Infrastructures of Occupation,” 71-90.

[22Chris Snedden and Coleen Fox, “Rethinking Transboundary Waters: A Critical Hydropolitics of the Mekong Basin,” Political Geography 25, no. 2 (2006): 181-202.

[23Snedden & Fox, “Rethinking Transboundary Waters,” 184-194.

[24Mona Bhan & Andrew Bauer, Climate without Nature: a Critical Anthropology of the Anthropocene, Cambridge University Press, 2018.

[25Lone, “Damming the Indus Waters,” 208-211.

[26“Damming the Indus Waters,” 213.

[27Hari Kumar and Geeta Anand, “17 Indian Soldiers Killed by Militants in Kashmir,” The New York Times, September 18, 2016

[28“Revocation of Indus Waters Treaty can be taken as an act of war: Sartaj, Pakistan approaches Int’l Court of Justice over Indus Water Treaty,” Daily Messenger (Islamabad), September 28, 2016, Last accessed 7/5/2024.

[29Abbas Hasan, “Indus, the source of life: Why India’s refusal to honour the Indus Water Treaty is significant,” Pakistan Today, October 10, 2016, Last accessed 7/5/2024.

[30“WB says cannot mediate in Pak-India water dispute,” The Pak Banker, August 10, 2020, Last accessed 7/5/2024.

[31Malik Muhammad Ashraf, “Resolving the water dispute: The dispute must be seen in context of relations overall,” Pakistan Today, April 6, 2021, https://www.pakistantoday.com.pk/2021/04/06/resolving-the-water-dispute/.

[32Betsy Joles, “Can India and Pakistan’s Historic Water Pact Endure?,” Foreign Policy, September 21, 2023, https://foreignpolicy.com/2023/09/21/india-pakistan-indus-waters-treaty-dispute-climate-change-flood-drought/.

[33Anjal Prakash, “Revisiting the Indus Water Treaty: A path to sustainability and stability in the face of climate change,” Forbes, March 2, 2023, https://www.forbesindia.com/article/isbinsight/revisiting-the-indus-water-treaty-a-path-to-sustainability-and-stability-in-the-face-of-climate-change/83523/1.