China’s Mega Dam Raises Security Concerns in India
“China’s mega dam being built near the Arunachal Pradesh border will be a ticking ‘water bomb’, an existential threat and a bigger issue than anything else apart from the military threat.”
Speaking at the press briefing in New Delhi, the BJP’s Chief Minister, Pema Khandu, raised the concerns.
The concerns arose after China officially signaled its approval for the development of a dam on the lower Yarlung Tsangpo River, located in Tibetan territory, on December 25, 2024.
The Chinese government reiterated that the development of the dam is grounded in its commitment to green energy production.
Therefore, government officials report that the project will be of great importance, as it aligns with China’s strategy of carbon peaking and achieving carbon neutrality, thereby helping to mitigate global climate change.
Moreover, the hydropower project is a green project aimed at promoting low-carbon development.
The Chinese F.M. spokesman Guo Jiakun at a regular press conference that took place on 6 January said that the project would not harm any downstream countries, instead it will help the lower riparian countries, furthermore in his words, ‘Let me reiterate that the decision to build the project was made after rigorous scientific evaluation and the project will not harm the ecological environment, geological conditions and the rights and interests related to water resources of downstream countries.
“Rather, it will, to some extent, help with their disaster prevention and reduction, and climate response.”
The Indians, on the other hand, don’t seem to buy that, Arunachal Pradesh’s C.M. Khandu protested, ‘The issue is that China cannot be trusted.
No one knows what they might do. It could even use this as a sort of ‘water bomb’… Suppose the dam is built and they suddenly release water, our entire Siang belt would be destroyed.’
Another, Assam’s Chief Minister, Himanta Biswa Sharma, said, ‘We have already communicated (to the federal government) that if this dam comes, then the Brahmaputra ecosystem will become completely fragile, it will become dry and will only depend on the rainwater of Bhutan and Arunachal Pradesh.’
To further grasp the magnitude of the concerns presented above, it is essential to trace the course of the river itself.
The Yarlung Tsangpo, known as the Brahmaputra upon entering India, holds significance that transcends mere hydrology.
In Hindu mythology, the river is revered as one of the few male rivers—often referred to as the ‘Son of Brahma’, distinguishing it from most other rivers in the subcontinent, which are considered feminine.
This unique status is steeped in religious lore, adding a sacred dimension to the river’s identity.
For India’s Hindutva-driven government, the Brahmaputra may serve as a potent symbol for mobilizing public sentiment, an instrument of cultural recall and civilizational pride that can galvanize a mass emotional response.
The river emerges from the foot of the vast Angsi Glacier on the Tibetan Plateau, coursing eastward for over 1,700 km across Tibet before it reaches the altitudinous and towering Himalayas.
Along its path, it forms and becomes part of some of the world’s deepest and highest canyons. Just before entering India, it takes a dramatic U-turn—famously known as the Great Bend—after which it flows into Arunachal Pradesh.
From China into India, and from geography into Hindu mythology, the river changes its name, transforming from Yarlung to Siang and finally to Brahmaputra.
In 2011, China’s Five-Year Plan envisioned taming the mighty ‘djinn’ of the Yarlung Tsangpo, seeking to harness its immense power for strategic gain.
The official proposal materialised at the end of 2024, when the Chinese government formally announced its decision to embark upon this costly and ambitious venture.
Since then, despite growing criticisms and protests, Chinese officials have repeatedly asserted that the project poses no threat to any lower riparian country and, on the contrary, will offer protective and stabilising benefits downstream.
On the other hand, if we examine the rhetoric employed by Indian officials toward Pakistan, it often carries a tone of provocation.
In the aftermath of attacks in Indian-administered Kashmir, India has consistently accused Pakistan of supporting separatist groups.
Moreover, Indian leaders have, at times, suggested revisiting the Indus Waters Treaty, with statements implying the possibility of restricting river flows into Pakistan, a country heavily dependent on the Indus River for agriculture and water security.
While these pronouncements have not materialised into direct policy shifts, they reflect growing regional tensions surrounding water as a strategic resource.
Therefore, it is evident that each actor in the scenario seeks to utilise water as a tool for strategic leverage.
A key distinction, however, lies in the legal frameworks governing these relationships. India and Pakistan are bound by the Indus Waters Treaty (1960), brokered by the World Bank, which obliges India to allow the regulated flow of the western rivers (Indus, Jhelum, and Chenab) to Pakistan, while permitting limited usage under strict guidelines.
In contrast, there exists no binding water treaty between China and India concerning the Brahmaputra or its tributaries.
Although both countries have signed non-binding agreements for sharing hydrological data, there is no legal mechanism in place to prevent dam construction or water diversion by either side.
It would be fair to observe that India’s policies and rhetoric appear two-pronged and contradictory when dealing with China and Pakistan.
In its dealings with Pakistan, India often assumes the posture of a hegemon, acting tough and projecting dominance.
However, when addressing China’s construction of dams for hydropower and energy generation, India shifts its stance, emphasising notions of fairness, legality, and distrust of Chinese intentions.
This contrast reveals a lack of consistency in India’s approach to transboundary water politics.
In order to put things into perspective, let us compare the rhetoric used by Indian ministers against China with the rhetoric of schadenfreude deployed against Pakistan.
For instance, following the Uri attack in 2016, Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi famously declared, “Blood and water cannot flow together.”
After the Pulwama attack in February 2019, then Water Resources Minister Nitin Gadkari asserted that India had decided to stop its share of water that used to flow to Pakistan under the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) and divert it for domestic use, invoking India’s rights over the eastern rivers (Ravi, Beas, and Sutlej).
A similar pattern has emerged after more recent terrorist incidents, such as the attack on tourists in Pahalgam (2024), where, rather than waiting for a thorough investigation, India immediately resorted to diplomatic pressure and military signalling, despite Pakistan offering to assist in identifying the culprits.
India’s messaging toward Pakistan frequently blends legal manoeuvring under the treaty with coercive signalling, often to appease domestic political audiences.
Conversely, when it comes to China, where India is downstream and geopolitically constrained, the tone shifts.
Indian statements become more legalistic, cautionary, and focused on urging transparency, as seen in discussions about dam construction on the Brahmaputra by China.
India cannot credibly threaten upstream retaliation against China, nor does it possess treaty-based leverage similar to what exists in its water-sharing arrangements with Pakistan.
Realism appears to be the driving force in this regional contest over water, where each actor, when in an upper riparian position, leverages its geographic advantage against the weaker, lower riparian counterpart.
India, for instance, continues to exploit Pakistan’s enduring anxiety over water security by using its upstream status as a tool of pressure.
At the same time, India itself feels vulnerable in the face of China’s growing economic and strategic power, fearing the erosion of its assumed status as the dominant regional actor in Asia.
This realist logic is evident on both sides. China and India, as upstream powers, aim to entrench economic dependency in their neighbours while maintaining control over the broader strategic narrative.
When tensions rise, escalation becomes the next step in the ladder of pressure.
A perceived threat is identified, and the response is to strike where it hurts most, to discipline the undisciplined, to assert dominance through decisive moves.
In such scenarios, legal frameworks and norms are often invoked only when they align with national interest, and conveniently set aside when they do not.
This selective approach to legality echoes Stephen Krasner’s observation that sovereignty functions as organized hypocrisy, where power often dictates principle, rather than the other way around.
A probable flashpoint in South Asia, beyond the long-standing disputes over Kashmir and Tibet—which themselves are rooted in similar strategic imperatives—could well be water.
The Brahmaputra and the Indus, already sources of pressure, have the potential to escalate into full-fledged flashpoints. In the end, time will tell, and time is often the truest witness of what unfolds.
This article is written by Mohammad Zain who graduated in International Relations with a research thesis focused on space governance and the strategic risks of weaponization beyond Earth. He brings a sharp analytical lens to emerging technologies and their impact on global power structures.
