Overlooked threat of hydroterrorism to global security An analysis by Foreign Policy

Water has historically played a role in armed conflict, but in recent years, the world has entered a troubling new chapter: the rise of hydroterrorism. From India to Ukraine, this essential resource is being weaponised for domination and coercion. The Pacific Institute reports a dramatic 50 per cent increase in global violence linked to water in 2023 alone. Despite this, global institutions still largely treat water as a developmental or environmental matter rather than the pressing security threat it has become.

Existing frameworks—like the UN Water Convention and the Integrated Water Resources Management model—are ill-suited to withstand today’s intensifying climate volatility. The Foreign Policy highlights in their latest article how failing to treat water-related threats as urgent security concerns has to be viewed as an oversight that borders on irresponsibility. As droughts and floods become more frequent, water scarcity in unstable states creates dangerous power vacuums. Extremist organisations exploit these openings, stepping in to provide services and impose control through ideological and survival-based appeals.

This pattern is especially acute in the Sahel, where militant factions aligned with ISIS and al-Qaeda leverage access to water as a means of political influence. In territories neglected by overstretched or corrupt governments, the article's author explains how these groups distribute water and aid to struggling civilians, effectively recruiting followers by coupling basic necessity with religious indoctrination.

Gambia, located within the Sahel, illustrates this dynamic clearly. Climate change has increased soil salinity, pushing saltwater deeper inland. Experts warn that nearly a third of the country’s rice farms may become unproductive within the next ten years. In nearby Senegal, water demand is projected to jump by as much as 60 per cent by 2035, while rainfall levels continue to fall.

Already, signs of strain are mounting, with the article noting how more than 25% of Gambia’s population of 2.6 million lacks reliable access to clean drinking water. Periodic shortages lead to internal displacement and swell the population in cities like Banjul. Over the past five years alone, the central Sahel has seen 450 documented clashes between pastoralists and farmers competing for diminishing water supplies and grazing space. Although Gambia has historically been resilient due to its culture of religious tolerance, worsening climate pressures and a lack of job opportunities for young people could erode this social fabric and make communities more vulnerable to radicalisation.

Across the Sahel, this pattern is becoming commonplace. Research shows that incidents of water-related conflict have been steadily rising across Africa over the last two decades, with the Sahel region particularly hard-hit. Extremist forces are spreading in Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso, where national governments are rapidly losing control. Gambia, just west of this belt of instability, risks following a similar path unless regional coordination is urgently strengthened.

The world is witnessing a surge in conflicts over water way beyond Africa. One of the most recent examples is the escalation between India and Pakistan after India moved to suspend the Indus Waters Treaty, a critical pact that governs access to six rivers shared by both nations. This unilateral decision, compounded by other tensions, led to four days of armed conflict in May, involving drones and missile strikes. A temporary ceasefire was later announced by US President Donald Trump.

In Central Asia, water tensions persist between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan, two neighbours with a history of violent disputes tied in part to unfinalized rules on water-sharing. Uzbekistan, which sits downstream and is itself facing severe water management difficulties due to its depleting sources, is also drawn into the conflict due to its heavy dependence on these rivers for agriculture and consumption.

Weak governmental initiatives need reboot

There have been previous efforts to address such water-related instability through regional cooperation. In the 1970s and 1980s, prolonged drought prompted the formation of the Senegambia Confederation—a bold attempt to unify Gambia and Senegal for joint river management and agricultural policy. However, mistrust and political friction led to its dissolution by 1989.

Still, the initiative highlighted a crucial reality that remains valid today: water does not adhere to political boundaries.

And this is the heart of the issue. Although nearly two-thirds of the world’s freshwater crosses at least one international border, there is no modern global mechanism to govern it. Most existing water-sharing pacts are bilateral, decades old, and fragile—easily discarded in times of diplomatic strain. The 1959 Nile Waters Agreement between Egypt and Sudan is a prime example; it has long been criticised for excluding upstream countries like Ethiopia, thereby stoking long-term regional tensions.

This makes the case for a new generation of transboundary water agreements—ones with real legal authority. Such treaties must include mechanisms for conflict de-escalation, mandatory arbitration, and data-sharing in real time to enable at least minimal cooperation during crises. Beyond that, new pacts should incorporate modern tools like satellite-based surveillance and AI-powered forecasting models to anticipate and manage water stress before it turns deadly.

But even the most comprehensive international treaty will fail without addressing the underlying drivers of hydroterrorism: worsening climate impacts, state fragility, and the erosion of trust in public institutions. The solution lies not just in diplomacy, but in empowering local communities. Governments, NGOs, and international partners must collaborate to build resilient infrastructure and deliver essential services where states fall short.

The global community must also formally define the weaponisation of water as a violation of international law. Using water to harm civilians or pressure governments must incur real penalties—such as sanctions, criminal prosecution, and demands for reparations—if such abuses are to be deterred.

At present, around 1.8 billion people live under conditions of absolute water scarcity, defined as access to less than 500 cubic meters of water per person annually. Many of them are just one emergency away from falling prey to extremism. Mitigating this crisis will require long-term coordination among governments, institutions, and local actors alike.

However, with a bold new framework for governing shared water resources—one grounded in enforceable law, resilient infrastructure, and grassroots participation—the international community can shift course. Only then, the article's author argues, can the world reclaim water as a universal life source, rather than a devastating instrument of war.

By Nazrin Sadigova