Water Conflicts and Resistance: Issues and Challenges in South Asia 9780367367299, 9781032036267, 9780429351006

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‘Conflicts in use of water from a river basin are typically considered a technical matter. In fact, though, argue the authors in this book, the real problem is political. Water-sharing arrangements lead to a continuous tussle by each party to maximise their share of the water. That leads to a great deal of water wastage and environmental damage. In this important book, the brilliant young scholar Venkatesh Dutta has brought together expert scholars, members of civil society and lawyers, many of whom have participated in negotiating treaties to share water resources. The book is essential reading not only for specialists and students in water management but also for those studying the political economy of environmental protection.’ Ashoka Mody, Charles and Marie Robertson Visiting Professor of International Economic Policy, School of Public and International Affairs, Princeton University, USA

Water Conflicts and Resistance

This book presents a systematic study of transboundary, regional and local water conflicts and resistance across several river basins in South Asia. Addressing hydro-socio-economic aspects in competing water sharing and transfer agreements, as well as conflicting regimes of legal plurality, property rights and policy implementation, it discusses themes such as rights over land and natural resources; resettlement of dam-displaced people; urban–rural conflicts over water allocation; peri-urbanisation, land use conflicts and water security; trade-offs and constraints in restoration of ecological flows in rivers; resilience against water conflicts in a river basin; and irrigation projects and sustainability of water resources. Bringing together experts, professionals, lawyers, government and the civil society, the volume analyses water conflicts at local, regional and transboundary scales; reviews current debates with case studies; and outlines emerging challenges in water policy, law, governance and institutions in South Asia. It also offers alternative tools and frameworks of water-sharing mechanisms, conflict resolution, dialogue and models of cooperation and collaboration for key stakeholders towards possible solutions for effective, equitable and strategic water management. This book will be useful to scholars and researchers of development studies, environment studies, water studies, public policy, political science, international relations, conflict resolution, political economy, economics, sociology and social anthropology, environmental law, governance and South Asian studies. It will also benefit practitioners, water policy think tanks and associations, policymakers, diplomats and NGOs. Venkatesh Dutta is Professor at School of Earth and Environmental Sciences, Babasaheb Bhimrao Ambedkar University, Lucknow, India, and a natural resource management specialist.

Social Movements and Transformative Dissent Series Editors: Savyasaachi, Department of Sociology, Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi, India and Ravi Kumar, Department of Sociology, South Asian University, New Delhi, India

The emergence of new forms of dissent, protest, resistance and political mobilisations in South Asia in recent times has rendered several analytical frameworks in social movement studies obsolete. The volumes in this series bring together perspectives from across the world, current debates, life, examples and works of activist thinkers associated with progressive social movements. They discuss social movements in relation to globalisation, neoliberalism, civil society, labour movements, democracy, technology, feminism, new media, and the role of state, economy, politics and market in the face of rapid social transformations. Dealing with questions of justice, equality and reciprocity, they aim to create synergies between critical thinking, transformative action and creativity. Addressing the diversity of social movements from trans-disciplinary intersections, the series will appeal to students, scholars and interested readers. Social Movements Transformative Shifts and Turning Points Edited by Savyasaachi and Ravi Kumar Intractable Conflicts in Contemporary India Narratives and Social Movements Edited by Savyasaachi Water Conflicts and Resistance Issues and Challenges in South Asia Edited by Venkatesh Dutta For more information about this series, please visit: www.routledge.com/ Social-Movements-and-Transformative-Dissent/book-series/SMTD

Water Conflicts and Resistance Issues and Challenges in South Asia Edited by Venkatesh Dutta

First published 2022 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2022 selection and editorial matter, Venkatesh Dutta; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Venkatesh Dutta to be identified as the author of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record has been requested for this book ISBN: 978-0-367-36729-9 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-032-03626-7 (pbk) ISBN: 978-0-429-35100-6 (ebk) Typeset in Sabon by Straive, India

Dedicated to Professor Subhash Chander IIT-Delhi (1937–2016)

Contents

List of figures xi List of tables xiii List of abbreviations xiv List of contributors xvi Foreword xxii Preface xxv Acknowledgements xxvii 1 Shared water: contest, conflicts and cooperation venkatesh dutta

1

PART I

Transboundary conflicts 2 Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes: a function of facts, frames and fairness enamul choudhury 3 From lukewarm to meaningful: understanding and transforming transboundary water cooperation in the Indian subcontinent gauri noolkar-oak 4 ‘Shared’ waterscapes: the case of river Ravi in Indian and Pakistan Punjab medha bisht and sohaib waseem anwar 5 Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin: contestations and cooperation ajaya dixit, ashutosh shukla, shiraz a. wajih and bijay singh

23 25

56

83

102

x  Contents 6 Environmental justice for the victims of the Koshi River Project: the context and elements of transboundary legal response shawahiq siddiqui 7 Benefits and burden: a case study of Gandak River Agreement ajaya dixit and ashutosh shukla

129

150

PART II

Regional and local conflicts

177

8 Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows: competition, conflicts and cooperation aditya kumar singh and vishal narain

179

9 Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender: a study of floods in South Asia priyanka jha and sukhreet bajwa

197

10 Examining inter-linkages between water scarcity and human security: a case study of Bundelkhand region of Uttar Pradesh, India manish k. verma and narendra gupta 11 Urban rivers and their riverfronts: when restoration becomes real estate projects prerna yadav 12 Conflict and resistance over water reallocation: the case of Surya Irrigation Project in Maharashtra simran sumbre, rahul raja, neha bhadbhade and k. j. joy

212

236

259

Index 279

Figures

1.1 Fragmentation and wholeness of biophysical, built and symbolic systems in the Himalaya–Ganga system 2 1.2 Average share of water withdrawal by sector in South Asia 4 1.3 Issues that make water governance challenging, not because of scarcity of water, but due to scarcity of ‘social resources’ 6 1.4 Potential triggers of water disputes 8 1.5 The perpetual cogs of transboundary water disputes which sustain the conflicts rather than resolving them 12 1.6 Factors that affect the conflict resolution landscape 13 2.1 Alignment fitness of facts, frames and fairness in dispute resolution 27 4.1 Bordering districts in Indian and Pakistan Punjab 89 5.1 Schematic of the 2008 breach of eastern flood control embankment and spread 103 5.2 Koshi Basin and Ganga River’s Tributary basins in Nepal and Tibet 106 5.3 The Koshi Basin 108 5.4 The Koshi Project: system and service area 113 7.1 Gandak Basin and Ganga River’s Tributary basins in Nepal and Tibet 152 7.2 The Gandak Basin 153 7.3 The area served by NWGC 157 7.4 Schematic of the Gandak Barrage, GWC and NWGC 162 8.1 Mukteshwar and position of three major towns and their peri-urban areas 186 8.2 Gurugram and its peri-urban areas selected for the study 187 9.1 Four phases of a disaster 199 10.1 Uttar Pradesh part of the Bundelkhand region, India 215 10.2 Water scarcity induced socio-economic conflicts 222 10.3 Sources of livelihood in the surveyed districts 223 10.4 Reasons of crop loss as evidenced by the residents 224 10.5 Households facing water scarcity 225

xii  Figures 10.6 Human security issues caused by social conflicts rooted in water deprivation 10.7 Interference of dominant persons in implementation of programmes 10.8 Reasons for not getting benefits of development schemes, as cited by the responsents 12.1 Dam site and command area of the project 12.2 Discontinuous lining work of the canal 12.3 A farmer shows the depth of the canal, lower than the adjoining fields

226 229 230 263 266 267

Tables

1.1 Freshwater withdrawal as a percentage of total renewable water resources 5 2.1 Frames in use to explain transboundary water governance 39 3.1 Statistics of the Indus and GBM River Basins 57 5.1 Generic categories of stakeholders 104 7.1 Infrastructure developed under the GIPP 156 7.2 Irrigation coverage in the NWGC 158 7.3 Yields of major crops in the NWGC command area 159 7.4 Socio-economic status of households in Nawalparasi served by NWGC 163 7.5 Demographic details 164 7.6 Socio-economic status of households served by NWGC, Nawalparasi, Rupandehi and Chitwan districts 165 10.1 Benefits drawn from government-implemented programmes aimed at revitalising community engagements and supporting village-level institutions 227 10.2 Level of benefits of development programmes 229 10.3 Areas where NGOs have contributed in the community 230 12.1 Allocations of water from the Surya project for various uses 265

Abbreviations

AIBP AMCDRR BATNA CAD CGWB CPEC DRR EU GBM GDP GRB GWP GWST HDI ICISS

Accelerated Irrigation Benefit Programme Asian Ministerial Conference on Disaster Risk Reduction Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement Command Area Development Central Ground Water Board China–Pakistan Economic Corridor Disaster Risk Reduction European Union Ganga-Brahmaputra-Meghana Gross Domestic Product Ganga River Basin Global Water Partnership Ganga Water Sharing Treaty Human Development Index International Commission on Intervention and State  Sovereignty INGOs International Non-Governmental Organisations IRBM Integrated River Basin Management IWDP Integrated Wasteland Development Programme IWRM Integrated Water Resources Management IWT Indus Waters Treaty JRC Joint Rivers Commission MDG Millennium Development Goals MGNREGA Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act MIDC Maharashtra Industrial Development Corporation MMRDA Mumbai Metropolitan Regional Development Authority NDMA National Disaster Management Authority NDMP National Disaster Management Plan NGO Non-Governmental Organisation NWDPRA National Watershed Development Programme for Rain-fed Areas PCA Permanent Court of Arbitration

Abbreviations  xv PTSD RBOs SAARC SADC SDG SFDRR TBW TWG TWT UN UNDDR UNFCCC VVMC WWC

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder River Basin Organisations South Asian Association of Regional Cooperation South African Development Community Sustainable Development Goals Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction Transboundary Water Transboundary Water Governance Teesta Waters Treaty United Nations United Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change Vasai-Virar Municipal Corporation World Water Council

Contributors

Sohaib Waseem Anwar is Senior Project Officer, WWF-Pakistan in the Freshwater Programme. He has carried out projects on water security and water resource management funded through various multilateral donor organisations such as DFID, ADB, EU and The Asia Foundation, and corporate donors such as Nestle Pakistan and Coca Cola Foundation. He obtained his Bachelor’s degree in Environmental Engineering from University of Engineering and Technology (UET), Lahore (2012) and his first Master’s degree in Corporate Environmental Management from University of Surrey, UK (2013). He then received a Fulbright Scholarship (2013–2015) to pursue his second Master’s degree in Environmental Resource Engineering from State University of New York (SUNY-ESF), based in Syracuse. In addition, he holds certifications in Water Diplomacy from UNITAR and in Water Footprint Assessment from University of Twente. His research interests include integrated water resource management (IWRM), environmental–economic accounting systems, water governance and diplomacy, environmental systems analysis, and water/ wastewater treatment technologies and infrastructures. Sukhreet Bajwa works at RIKA India Pvt Ltd on Disaster Risk Reduction. Her previous work experience was at Gujarat State Disaster Management Authority as a sector manager, where she supervised capacity-building projects of state government for risk resilience. She has also assisted the Special Centre for Disaster Research, Jawaharlal Nehru University in research activities. A TISS alumnus, she engages in grassroots through her work in conflict response with Doctors for You (Assam) and has focused on the dynamics of vulnerabilities and communities. Neha Bhadbhade is Research Associate at SOPPECOM, Pune, India. She completed her PhD in Biosytems and Agricultural Engineering from Oklahoma State University, USA, in 2014. Her research interests include hydrology, environmental flows, river basin management and low-­impact development. Medha Bisht teaches International Relations at South Asian University, Delhi, India. She has an MA in Politics and a PhD from the Diplomatic and Disarmament Studies Division, Jawaharlal Nehru University. She

Contributors  xvii has led international projects on water governance and diplomacy in South Asia. She is interested in South Asian politics, international negotiations, political and strategic thought, society–state interface and strategic dimensions of non-traditional security issues confronting water and energy. Enamul Choudhury is Professor in the School of Public and International Affairs at Wright State University, Dayton, Ohio, USA. He teaches courses in the areas of environmental diplomacy, public budgeting and public service ethics. His current research area is water policy and politics. He completed his PhD in public policy and administration from Virginia Tech in 1991, and has taught at Indiana State University, University of Cincinnati, and Miami University before joining Wright State. He has published four book chapters and over twenty-five journal articles. Ajaya Dixit is an analyst of water resources and environmental themes in Nepal and South Asia. He taught water resource engineering at Nepal’s Institute of Engineering and worked with a team to establish a Masterlevel interdisciplinary water education course in Nepal. His current research focuses on exploring approaches to develop strategies for resilience building against shocks due to climate change and other hazards at the sub-national scale. He is studying the role systems play in building societal resilience and using the knowledge generated to engage the policy-making domain. He has written extensively on water resources, transboundary, cooperation, flood management, environment and climate change adaptation. Venkatesh Dutta is Professor of Environmental Sciences at the Babasaheb Bhimrao Ambedkar (Central) University, Lucknow, India. He is also program coordinator of DST Centre for Policy Research that works on agriculture, water policy and public health. He was the expert member of the drafting committee on State Water Policy of Uttar Pradesh. He combines environment, development and innovations from academic debate with the action-oriented policy landscape in India. He is a Fulbright Fellow and a British Chevening Scholar. He did his postdoctoral research at the School of Public Policy, University of Maryland, USA, and doctoral work at the Faculty of Policy and Planning, TERI School of Advanced Studies, New Delhi. He toured several drought-stricken states in India and interacted with farmers on developing precision irrigation systems and effective groundwater management. His writing has provoked responses that include the restoration of smaller streams and wetlands and revamping of the groundwater management programs in the state of Uttar Pradesh. He has edited three books and contributed several articles and chapters in journals and books, respectively. Narendra Gupta is Assistant Professor in the Department of Sociology at Bundelkhand Degree College, Jhansi, India. With a doctoral degree from Babasaheb Bhimrao Ambedkar University, he is pursuing research in

xviii  Contributors the area of ecology and environment with micro-level analysis of issues related to development, water, famine, health and human security. He has contributed several research articles and chapters in various journals and edited volumes. Priyanka Jha is Teaching and Postdoctoral Fellow in the Department of Philosophy and History of Ideas, Aarhus University, Denmark. She is part of the project, ‘An Intellectual History of Global Inequality 1960– 2015’. Mapping gendered intellectual history of ideas in India and South Asia is one of her key areas of work, and she is interested in the theme of gender in the normative and policy. Previously she taught political science and intellectual history at Ambedkar University, Delhi. K. J. Joy is a founding member of and Senior Fellow with Society for Promoting Participative Ecosystem Management (SOPPECOM), Pune, India, and also coordinates the activities of Forum for Policy Dialogue on Water Conflicts in India. His areas of interest include drought, institutions, participatory irrigation management, river basin management, multi-stakeholder processes, water conflicts, water ethics and people’s movements. He has published extensively on water–environment–development issues including the co-edited books: India’s Water Futures: Emergent Ideas and Pathways; Water Conflicts in Northeast India; Alternative Futures: India Unshackled; and Water Conflicts in India: A Million Revolts in the Making. Vishal Narain is Professor of Public Policy and Governance at Management Development Institute (MDI), Gurgaon, India. He holds a PhD from Wageningen University, The Netherlands. His teaching and research interests are in the interdisciplinary analyses of public policy processes and institutions, water governance, vulnerability and adaptation to environmental change and peri-urban issues. His research has been published in several peer-reviewed journals such as Land Use Policy, Geoforum and Water International. He is the author of Public Policy: A View from the South. He has also co-edited Globalization of Water Governance in South Asia; Water Security in Periurban South Asia: Adapting to Climate Change and Urbanization; and Indian Water Policy at the Cross-Roads: Resources, Technology and Reforms. He received the SR Sen Prize for the Best Book on Agricultural Economics and Rural Development for his book Institutions, Technology and Water Control. He has been consultant to FAO, Bangkok, IWMI, Colombo and the STEPS Center, UK. Gauri Noolkar-Oak is a transboundary water conflicts researcher. She has researched water problems in the Middle East, South-East Asia and South Asia, and her latest research has been about conflicts in the Teesta River basin. She has conducted policy research on water sector of Maharashtra and has collaborated with the Government of Maharashtra on the finalisation of the Godavari River Basin Plan, the first of its kind in India. She studied economics at Fergusson College, Pune and the University

Contributors  xix of Hong Kong, and has research interests in international relations and geopolitics. Rahul Raja works with the Water Working Group at Revitalising Rainfed Agriculture Network, India. He is a postgraduate in Water Policy and Governance from Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai. Prior to joining TISS, he completed his Bachelor’s in business administration from Guru Gobind Singh Indraprastha University in Delhi, and has worked for two years in the banking sector. However, his long-standing interest in sustainable ecosystems and livelihoods led him to leave his job and pursue further studies. He worked as an intern with Water Conflict Forum in 2018 on the issue of rising conflicts due to increasing reallocation from the Surya Irrigation Project in Palghar district of Maharashtra. Ashutosh Shukla is a senior research faculty at the Institute for Social and Environmental Transition-Nepal (ISET-Nepal). He completed his Master’s degree in Agricultural Engineering from the University of the Philippines. His specialised research interests are on water engineering, agriculture and climate change. He has thirty years of experience in teaching as a lecturer in different engineering institutions of Nepal. His interdisciplinary research publications are generally based on agriculture, animal science, irrigation management, climate change and sustainable development. Shawahiq Siddiqui is an environmental lawyer and founding partner of the Indian Environment Law Organization, New Delhi, India. He has been engaging with communities in the Koshi Basin in India and Nepal. His recent publication is Governance of the Ganges River Basin: A Comparative Analysis of Water Agreements and the UN Watercourses Convention. Aditya Kumar Singh is a PhD candidate in the Department of Geography at Durham University, UK. His research focuses on the dynamic interactions between society and environment, pertaining to the processes of urbanisation in mid-size Indian cities and how this interaction motivates various actors to indiscriminately appropriate resources. He holds a Master’s in Sustainable Development Practice from TERI School of Advanced Studies, New Delhi. His research interests are in peri-urban, water governance, public policy processes, rights, justice, equity and gender issues. Methodological interests are in qualitative research methods such as ethnography. His research has yielded several publications, including journal articles, international conference papers, book chapters, popular media pieces and policy briefs. These outputs represent contributions to both theory and policy process. Bijay Singh is a senior research officer in Gorakhpur Environmental Action Group (GEAG), India. He has completed his postgraduate and PhD degrees in Geography from Banaras Hindu University. He also served

xx  Contributors as a faculty member in the Geography Department at DDU Gorakhpur University (2006–2010). He has coordinated several action and academic research projects. He coordinated Political Economy Analysis in the Koshi Basin supported by The Asia Foundation. Simran Sumbre is Social Scientist at the Advanced Center for Water Resources Development and Management (ACWADAM), Pune, India. She is an alumnus of the Tata Institute of Social Sciences with a Master’s in Water Policy and Governance. She completed her Bachelor’s in political science from Ramnarain Ruia College, Mumbai University. Her interest in public policy and advocacy inspired her to pursue her Master’s in policy and governance in the water sector. She worked as an intern in 2018 with Water Conflict Forum on the rising conflicts due to increasing reallocation from the Surya Irrigation Project in Palghar district of Maharashtra. Manish K. Verma is Professor in the Department of Sociology at Babasaheb Bhimrao Ambedkar (Central) University, Lucknow, India. His main research interests concern environment and development with microlevel studies in the areas of involuntary displacement, urban ecology, social justice and globalization. With a doctorate degree from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, he has more than twenty years of teaching and research experience. During his two-decades-long stint in academics at various positions, he has published books which include Globalization, Social Justice and Sustainable Development; Peri-Urban Environment, Globalization and Environment: Discourse, Policies and Practices; and Development, Displacement and Resettlement. His latest book is Globalization, Environment and Social Justice: Perspectives, Issues and Concerns. He is a member of various national and international professional bodies such as International Sociological Association, Indian Sociological Society and Rajasthan Sociological Association. He is currently a member of the Managing Committee of Indian Sociological Society. Shiraz A. Wajih is Associate Professor at University College of Gorakhpur, India. With a PhD in Ecology, he has been a researcher and development professional with more than forty years of experience. He is engaged in research, directing projects, trainings and advocacy, and is associated with Gorakhpur Environmental Action Group since its inception. His focus areas are sustainable livelihoods, natural resource management, disaster risk reduction, water management, climate change adaptation and livelihood resilience. He has been awarded prizes such as Global 500 and Momentum for Change. He is a fellow at various academic bodies and part of national and international organisations as member, advisor and governing board member. He has produced more than seventy papers and reports.

Contributors  xxi Prerna Yadav is a doctoral scholar at the Centre of Policy Studies at the Indian Institute of Technology Bombay, India. She completed a Master’s in environmental studies from the University of Delhi. In her recent work, she compares riverfront developments in Ahmadabad and Lucknow and argues that restoration of ecological flows in a river is inherently faulty in its construct.

Foreword

This book is dedicated to the memory of Subhash Chander, who was Professor at the Department of Civil Engineering, Indian Institute of Technology Delhi, India. Prof. Subhash Chander obtained his BTech (Hons) degree from IIT Kharagpur in 1958, followed by an MTech in Dams and Water Power Engineering in 1960 from the same institution. He went to the University of Manchester, UK for doctoral studies and completed his PhD in 1965. He then joined the faculty of IIT Delhi and taught hydrology for nearly four decades. He was a professional with extraordinary expertise in modelling and simulation of hydrological cycle and flood forecasting. He understood the intricacies of the catchments and appreciated the holistic approach to the management of water systems. He was part of the first generation of scholars of water science and engineering in India and established many departments and centres of hydrology, playing a key role in the projection of the future challenges in water management in India. His approach introduced much needed transparency to the decision-making and consensus-building processes in water sharing, with participation of the diverse stakeholder groups. He was one of the co-authors to draft the National Water Policy of India in 2012. His research contributions led to the introductions of models in real-time water management. He developed forecasting models for six river basins in Italy and was instrumental in setting up of flood forecasting centre within the Central Water Commission of India. He developed 112 years time series of sub-basins of the Krishna basin to help the Krishna Water Disputes Tribunal to allocate water between the riparian states on behalf of the State of Andhra Pradesh. I sincerely hope that this book stands out in his honour. During the past two centuries, human interventions into the water systems have grown exponentially. The result has been the growing complexity of the multifaceted relationship of economic activities and the natural processes that make water available. In the absence of advance steps of governance to address emerging disputes, water conflicts are pushing our policy actions and their further influences in governance and legislation. The evolution of water policy in the countries of South Asia has not escaped from the dominance of reductionist perceptions of engineering, generating

Foreword  xxiii strong evidence of social and political disputes that give rise to water conflicts over limited and shared waterscapes. The institutional rigidity further obscures cooperation and negotiation between riparian countries or provinces as well as diverse sectoral uses of water. Accordingly, study of conflicts over water has become important in economics, sociology, public policy, etc. The search for a new and holistic paradigm for water systems governance has become an international agenda for decades. Unfortunately, in South Asia, such an exercise has been limited mainly among some independent water professionals. There is a big gap in knowledge specific to South Asia which does not facilitate a dynamic scenario in water policy and practice. The emerging concepts of integrated management are not so easy to operationalise. There are many social, economic, political and technological barriers to overcome. The states within a river basin are usually contesting hegemonic transboundary water arrangements, as the rivers and supported ecosystems are unrelated to the administrative boundaries. The mainstay of water management has remained reductionist, heavily directed towards projects to promote supply augmentation. It has not followed the ecological principles of synergy. Agreements on most transboundary rivers have taken the ‘flow of water’ as the singular factor to design the allocations between the contesting states, while ‘fluvial dynamics’ and ecosystem services of the rivers have been fully neglected. This has severely affected the integrity of the basins and the riparian ecosystems. The human-induced lean-flows of various rivers have become a testimony of the degradation of waterscapes and the related ecosystems. This reductionist perception behind water diversion and allocation based on ‘volumes of water’ has not changed in the last 150 years, and ‘collaborative hydro-diplomacy’ guided by ecological resilience and carrying capacity of the basin has remained a distant reality in South Asia. As a result, water sharing becomes dominated by ‘political identity’ rooted in power asymmetry and mistrust among contesting states. The various essays presented in this volume describe water scarcity as a flawed concept which brings in more technocratic control over the waterscapes, further marginalising communities, ecosystems and the basins as a whole. The ‘hydrological scarcity’ is deepened by a second level of scarcity: that of ‘social resources’ rooted in geopolitics. The imperative social distress created by hydrological scarcity leads to human sufferings and degradation of the natural ecosystem processes. This book fills some of these gaps by tackling water conflict, issues and concerns from various parts of south Asia. The conflicts crossing boundaries go on to permeate between countries, provinces, districts, villages and even households, affecting the eventual micro-level units in the society. In contrast, sectoral water conflicts have become more common that largely emerge from intersectoral water transfers, like the ones between agriculture to urban and industrial sectors. The volume covers such heterogeneity of conflicts. One important observation is that the allocations are made among socio-economic sectors ignoring the ecosystems.

xxiv  Foreword This volume is contributed by people who are actually in the field of water policy, governance and institutional reform. Many of them have been involved in drafting committees of water policy frameworks, agreements and negotiations. The contributors cover a rich spectrum of issues in water politics, institutions, laws and regulations outside of traditional mainstream. The scholarly contributions discuss how local and regional water conflicts can be resolved with better understanding of transboundary power asymmetry, socio-political settings and participatory institutional models. The contributors identify those gaps that prevent policy-­relevant questions from being raised and answered in public policy literature. The critical appraisal of divergence and contestations across boundaries can help frame integrated responses and guide future research that may allow those questions to be answered to promote conflict resolution. The volume successfully probes key uncertainties that hinder effective water-­ sharing mechanisms between contesting riparian entities at local, national and regional levels. The insights will help build institutional capacity and identify priorities for action to undertake integrated water assessment and sharing principles across various scales. The volume is edited by Venkatesh Dutta, who has contributed to significant changes in public discourse, law and policy for sustainable water management in India. A model of cooperation and participation based on shared understanding of river basins and of the ‘burdens’ of water allocation can be seen as a medium for developing resilience and adaptive capacity between riparian states, as well as future advances in water governance reforms that can be useful in research in local, regional and transboundary water conflicts. The chapters presented here also contribute to system science that makes the very foundation of Integrated River Basin Governance, in which waterscapes have to be viewed as ecological capital. The valuation of the entire range of ecosystem services is necessary in scientific b ­ enefit– cost assessments of water projects. Above all, the current conundrum of lack of trust among riparian countries should be replaced by forward-­looking approach based on updated knowledge, trust and cooperation. The volume will be quite useful to academics, water professionals and practitioners in South Asia who increasingly need to be familiar with the complex issues related to water governance both within and outside the domain of the water sector. The volume would also appeal to political leaders, economists and public policy experts engaged in broader issues related to water. Jayanta Bandyopadhyay Former Professor and Head, Centre for Development and Environment Policy, Indian Institute of Management, Calcutta, India

Preface

Transboundary and regional water conflicts are increasingly becoming national problems for many regions of the world. The evolution of water policy and related reforms in South Asia has not escaped the dominant Malthusian doctrine of ‘scarcity induced conflicts’, even though there is strong evidence of social and political conflicts that give rise to water scarcity and disputes over shared waterscapes. The institutional rigidity further obscures cooperation and negotiation between riparians and between divergent water users. This volume details the intricate nature of local, regional and transboundary water conflicts and cooperation through various case studies coming from India, Nepal, Bangladesh and Pakistan. The fundamental position of the scholarly research is situated on two major planks of water management: first, the role of cooperation and coordination of riparians, including local governments and basin authorities; and second, the significance of fairness and rationality in the complex and multidimensional regime of water allocation in resolving transboundary water conflicts. Authors discuss how local and regional water conflicts can be resolved with better understanding of socio-political dimensions and participatory institutional models, how hydro-diplomacy can be seen as a medium for developing adaptive capacity between riparian states, and future directions in water reforms that can be taken in local, regional and transboundary water conflict research. Hydrological systems that connect land and water resources are classically complex. The multilayered and complex relationship of development and its linkages with ecosystems make them even more dynamic. The nature of emerging water conflicts is determining our policy actions and their interactions with governance and legislation. The chapters in this book illustrate complexities of transboundary, regional and local water conflicts through case studies, the scholarships also suggest different models of cooperation and collaboration that can be supported through effective water governance and reform. Experts and practitioners provide a rich critique of literature along with tools and approaches that can facilitate better negotiations and cooperation frameworks between contesting riparian regions. The readers can identify key stakeholders to collaboratively explore and articulate alternative framework of water-sharing mechanisms.

xxvi  Preface After reading the perspective of the authors included in this volume, readers would be able to appreciate the idea of evolving holistic, coordinated and equitable transboundary and regional policies that support cooperation, collaboration and improves overall ecosystem function of water resources. The various chapters also present ways in which riparians can leverage regional geopolitical realities to establish meaningful and mutually beneficial transboundary water cooperation in the subcontinent. The authors provide a new presentation of complexity of water conflicts across local, regional and transboundary scales and offer a set of solutions that seek out to ease some of the contestations. There is a huge potential for water policy reform across borders and sectors. Will water diplomacy and improved water governance work? The chapters included in this volume discuss the complexity of hydro-socio-­ economic territories involved in competing water-sharing and transfer schemes. The book also examines the conflicting regimes of legal plurality, property rights and policy implementation, and shows where significant limitations still lie. The chapters in this book review the current debate on water conflicts in the Indian subcontinent shaping the governance of water resources and take stock of new policy developments. The authors also present a road map for the future and discuss the potential of alternative approaches for tackling emerging challenges.

Acknowledgements

This book brings together both practitioners and professionals from the academia, government and the civil society; there are people in the writing team who have been instrumental in negotiating for a fair water-­sharing principle as conveners, experts and lawyers, and have been writing on various platforms to bring about a paradigm shift in water governance, approaching for strategic thoughts on holistic water management. I am thankful to all the contributors who are working hard in their respective spheres to tackle some of the toughest problems the world is going through. Their writings reflect the desire to overcome deep inequities that exist in the water sector which could offer a rich terrain for further empirical research. I am grateful to all the authors with whom I have had the pleasure to work during this and other related assignments. I am grateful to the members of the drafting committee on State Water Policy of Uttar Pradesh, the members of the drafting committee on Science, Technology and Innovation Policy 2020 and the committee involved in designing national water framework law, all of whom greatly contributed towards my overall understanding of water governance in the Indian subcontinent. I have been part of these committees, as an expert or involved in the consultation process. The feedback that I got from experts helped me think about writing on such understudied subjects from a policy perspective. I am thankful to Ajaya Dixit of Nepal and Dr. Shiraz Wajih of GEAG, Gorakhpur, who have contributed immensely to the initial planning of this volume. During my several trips to Nepal, I learned the nuances of policy coherence and specificities of ‘good’ and ‘bad’ policy making, derived from grounded theoretical framework. I sincerely wish to thank Prof. Sanjay Singh, Vice-Chancellor of BBAU, Lucknow, for providing all the needed support and facilities during the preparation of this volume. My deepest gratitude is to Dr. Akhilesh Mishra and Dr. Neeraj Sharma from the Policy Division of DST, New Delhi, who helped in setting up the DST Centre for Policy Research at my university for initiating policy research that could provide a bridge between policy and practice. The volume is dedicated to Prof. Subhash Chander, who was my mentor during my doctoral research. I learnt the basics of hydrology and integrative

xxviii  Acknowledgements science from him through his patient guidance, constructive critiques and encouragements during my sixteen-year-long association with him. As my teacher and mentor, he has skilled me more than I could ever give him credit. He was instrumental in drafting India’s national water policy of 2012 and contributed significantly on resolving water disputes in Krishna Basin Tribunal to allocate water between the riparian states. I would like to express my gratitude to Prof. Savyasaachi, Department of Sociology, Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi, for his valuable and constructive suggestions during the initial conceptualisation of this volume. His willingness to provide his time and feedback so generously is much appreciated. I am also deeply thankful to Prof. Jayanta Bandyopadhyay for writing the foreword for this volume. My special thanks to commissioning editor at Routledge India, Shoma Choudhary, who inspired me to take up this project, after the initial review. I am grateful to Rimina Mohapatra, Publishing Manager, who helped me at every stage of production and editing. Her active and unrelenting support is greatly acknowledged. Finally, I wish to thank my family – Deepti, Vatsalyaa and Amogh – for their love, support and unending inspiration during the editing process.

1 Shared water Contest, conflicts and cooperation Venkatesh Dutta

Water is essential to all forms of life, and for achieving all the objectives of sustainable development goals (SDG), including livelihood security. Water conflicts within and between regions, states and nations are widespread all over the world (Shah 2019). Various researchers argue that water conflicts are largely associated with the scarcity of water, which is increasingly becoming an inevitable threat to humanity due to a steady increase in global water demand (Qin et al. 2019; Roth et al. 2019). However, on a closer examination, it is found that the conflicts are mostly rooted in competing perspective and values about water storages, inequitable and unsustainable transboundary water arrangements, and utilizable flows exceeding the ecological replenishable water in a catchment (Zeitoun et al. 2020). At the current rate of water extraction and use, it is estimated that existing freshwater resources could meet only 60 per cent of the world’s demand for water by 2030 (World Water Development Report 2015). The imminent crisis is already affecting millions of people globally, and prolonged water conflicts are becoming unavoidable in the South Asian region. Several incidences of transfer of water from agriculture to urban and industrial sectors highlight the complexities of local and regional water conflicts which are not easily resolved through existing set of institutions and procedures. The geography, history and culture of South Asia have been influenced by several of its transboundary rivers for centuries. Water resources have contributed to the region’s food security and economic growth. However, it is seen that, over the past few decades, these freshwater resources are under pressure to maintain even adequate flows in appreciable quality due to multiple threats from environmental pollution, intensive agriculture, urbanisation and population growth. The existing situation seems challenging due to the absence of satisfactory water governance, weak institutions and a lack of widely agreed-upon water-sharing and allocation principles. It is also observed that water diplomacy in South Asia has been largely unsuccessful in engaging with grounded narratives emanating from the micro level. South Asia has a chain of highest mountains on the earth which are sources to mighty rivers such as the Ganges, the Brahamputra and the Indus. The mountains and plains form an intricate system of highland– lowland complex consisting of the diverse agro-ecological zones of the world within a short horizontal distance – having even a far more complex

2  Venkatesh Dutta hydro-geological strata. The region is also charaterised by typical wet and dry tropical climatic extremes. The rivers support a rich variety of flora and fauna which have evolved from the periodic pulses of floods and droughts with complex terrestrial and aquatic phases of the waterscapes. Water remains a fundamental factor that regulates biophysical environment and processes, which further supports various dependent ecosystems. However, interactions and feedbacks among biophysical and human-built systems remain poorly understood. The biophysical environment of this part of the world is under constant pressure due to rapid transformations of the landscape from various projects that intend to raise the quality of life of people and their development aspirations. The entire region is majorly drained by the Himalayan rivers which are characterised by hydro-ecological complexity. The overlaying layer of geopolitical and institutional complexities make this region even more challenging, as they are under constant change than ever in the past. The Himalaya–Ganga system has three interlinked and interacting systems and is undergoing dynamic transformation in all of them (Gyawali and Dixit, 1994) – exposing a rich terrain of complexity for policy purposes. These three systems are illustrated in Figure 1.1. Complex hydrogeological strata

Fragility and assimilave capacity

Living and non-living biophysical system

Non-linear dynamics

HimalayaGanga System Human-Built System

Symbolic System

Cies Villages Farming Livestock system Roads Trade Tourism Communicaon

Hopes Aspiraons Views Values Inclusion Parcipaon

Figure 1.1  Fragmentation and wholeness of biophysical, built and symbolic systems in the Himalaya–Ganga system.

Shared water  3 The Himalaya–Ganga system displays large and complex interactions between living and non-living biophysical system, human-built system and the symbolic system at various temporal and spatial scales, possessing composite and stochastic properties. The rich plurality of social systems is multilayered and they are integrated by waterscapes, i.e. water mediates and integrates the symbolic system, but under conflicts and contestations it causes its very disintegration. Human-built systems are largely constructed as simplistic and deterministic forcing, influenced by supply-side projects and schemes. They affect the biophysical system by threatening its fragility and assimilative capacity. Most of the water diversion and allocation projects are based on a reductionist approach and ignore both the biophysical system and the symbolic system. Complexity science is often overlooked for the sake of simplicity. Appropriate metaphors and models of the symbolic system are routinely ignored in project planning and policies involving human-built system. The epistemological and philosophical foundations of the symbolic system have to be integrated within the human-built system with proper valuation of externalities and spillovers affecting the ecological resilience.

The ‘Naturalness’ of water scarcity and conflicts Many researchers agree that water scarcity narrative is a flawed concept, and it underplays the issues of unequal access, power disparity and control of allocation to economically profitable sectrors while ignoring the larger question of ecosystem sustainability (Mehta 2000; Mollinga 2001; Wester and Warner 2002). Nature has designed the water endowment of a region based on various climatic factors that have evolved through periods of droughts and floods; therefore, the water scarcity paradox is not a nature-designed event per se, but rather the product of mismanagement created by historical water resource development projects, unsustainable allocation and extraction, excessive control of water flows and selective water rights. Nature has only played a contributing role in elevating the potency of water disputes, not causing them, with its increasing unpredictability in rainfall and climatic variability that has made communities in South Asia highly vulnerable to floods, droughts and other natural disasters. South Asia, with nearly one-fourth of the global population, is struggling with multiple disputes – it is a region that is witnessing unprecedented development challenges in human history due to increasing pressure from population growth, urbanisation, lack of quality living environments and conflicts associated with transboundary rivers. It is not just the simulated problem of scarcity caused by hydraulic bureaucracies amid the abundant heterogeneity of resources; the broader implications of the sharing of resources that cross the administrative boundary with respect to their co-riparian states are significant. Therefore, South Asia, as a geographical region has commonality of interest and commonality of conflicts. It is generally believed that transboundary conflicts over shared water resources are first-order wicked problems, but it is also true that second-order regional and local conflicts within

4  Venkatesh Dutta countries could pose greater threats (Gyawali, 2003). Such conflicts are larger in scope and complexities, and many of them are not caused by the water scarcity itself, but due to mismanagement in allocation and institutional inefficiency (Ohlsson 2000). There is also a pervasive unwillingness to develop social adaptive capacity, as more supply projects are promised by the serving political parties. The institutional matrix and regimes of local and regional governance differently affect social fabrics. Whether it is ­Kathmandu in Nepal, Dhaka in Bangladesh, Delhi in India or Karachi in Pakistan, the residents have become familiar with protests, unrest and dissent against the uneven and unreliable infrastructure services. Besides the military interpretation, the word ‘conflict’ signals some sort of disagreement over ideas, principles or autonomy. It also implies a serious divergence or dispute, typically a prolonged one in which the opposing forces struggle for victory (Zeitoun and Warner 2006). In the context of border disputes, conflicts underpin the foundation of marking out territory, wherein one “actor attempts to exert power over another to overcome that actor’s perceived blockage of the first actor’s goal and faces significant resistance” (Frey 1993). Conflicts come in an infinite range of types and degrees of intensity with reciprocal sufferings on the co-riparian states ­(Zeitoun and Warner 2006). About 93 per cent of inventoried withdrawals of freshwater in five countries of South Asia are by agriculture (Figure 1.2), which is higher than the average global agricultural water withdrawal (70 per cent). Municipal and industrial water withdrawal accounts for 5.8 per cent and 1.3 per cent, respectively, with slight variations among different countries (Table  1.1). India accounts for 14 per cent of global freshwater withdrawal – ­highest in South Asia. It is observed that in many areas, the current rate of water withdrawal is unsustainable, with extraction exceeding recharge, giving rise to acute water scarcity issues. The groundwater resources have been overexploited, and many regions are in dark zones. A dark zone is an area where groundwater depletion far exceeds the rate of recharge by natural sources. The over-extraction of water resources have threatened

Water Demand

Agriculture (irrigaon, livestock watering, aquaculture) 92.87%

Municipalies (drinking/municipal) 5.84%

Industries (including water for cooling of thermoelectric plants) 1.26%

Figure 1.2  Average share of water withdrawal by sector in South Asia.

Table 1.1  Freshwater withdrawal as a percentage of total renewable water resources Countries

Agricultural water withdrawal (109 m3/year)

Industrial water withdrawal (109 m3/year)

Municipal water withdrawal (109 m3/year)

Total water withdrawal (109 m3/year)

Total water withdrawal per capita (m3/ inhab/year)

Freshwater withdrawal as % of total renewable water resources (%)

Bangladesh Bhutan India Nepal Pakistan

31.5 0.318 688 9.32 172.4

0.77 0.003 17 0.0295 1.4

3.6 0.017 56 0.1476 9.65

35.87 0.338 761 9.497 183.5

230.3 448.9 602.5 362.3 1031

2.923 0.4332 33.88 4.518 81.04

Source: Aquastat, FAO.

Shared water  5

6  Venkatesh Dutta aquatic ecosystems and, at the same time, weakened the foundation of sustainable development in the region.

Shared governance of interstate rivers – issues of scale and power disparity The concept of river basin as a planning unit for integrated water resource management has been quite widely discussed in the literature (Jager et al. 2016; Pakhtigian et al. 2019; Suhardiman et al. 2018). However, in practice, it is not as obvious as it seems. The fluid boundaries, pressure functions, suppositions of scale, legal plurality and multiplicity of agencies make river basin management quite complex and challenging (Figure 1.3). There is a big divide between policy and practice, with the latter being the product of socio-political choices (Choudhury and Islam 2015; Wester and Warner 2002). The basin planning and management paradigm has restricted influence beyond the rigid political-administrative boundaries. Many interstate water agreements have not delivered desired results, as they are backed by rigid and inflexible institutions (Schlager and Heikkila 2009). The governance structures are incapable of dealing with wicked problems and mico-level crisis. In a basin, there are multiple users of water, each having competing demands. The conflicts involving river basins and groundwater aquifers are classically rooted in their complex property right regimes which are not properly defined and allocation principles which favour over-extraction. An upper riparian state can pollute a river or divert water through canals and even rob the water-sufficient lower riparian communities by over-extraction of groundwater. Political dimension of water allocation and distribution that often legitimises power disparity has been neglected in the supply-centric water governance. The idea of managing water on a basin scale is a consequence of mainstream political choice in which river basin organisations are seen as authorities of power. Across the basin, riparians cleave to opposite positions (Dombrowsky 2010). River basin authorities bring more centralisation and

Scale and Power Disparity

Complex Boundaries and Spaal Linkages

Mulplicity of Instuons/Authories

Procedure/Conflict Resoluon Mechanisms

Compeng Values and Perspecves

Common Property Rights

Figure 1.3  Issues that make water governance challenging, not because of scarcity of water, but due to scarcity of ‘social resources’.

Shared water  7 act as action agencies. Power pervades existing arrangements of institutions, as the river basins are ‘as much political units as they are natural units’ (Boelens et al. 2016; Molle et al. 2009; Mollinga 2008; Wester and Warner 2002). There are increasing incidences of transboundary or interstate water conflicts across several river basins such as the Ganges, Indus and Brahmaputra. Several competing groups hold contending claims over limited water resources, whose allocation is becoming tricky in the prevailing scenario of social and economic inequality and power asymmetries. The states within a country are contesting hegemonic transboundary water arrangements, as the river does not respect administrative boundaries. The most pervasive water-related structural conflicts and violence is from the deprivation of access to ‘fair share’, quality water and basic sanitation. Governments that regulate water and water bodies have limited success in managing the resource holistically, and have to deal with situations in which the demand for water far exceeds the available amount, limiting water for the ecosystem services. Water resources are poorly managed, with unjust social and political structures and institutions governing their use ignoring ethical and moral conservation value systems. The differing priorities are also visible in urban and rural catchments of a river basin that change with scale – for example, embankments are made to reduce the flooding risk more in urban areas by channelising a river, while issues of ecosystem protection are seen outside the city boundaries (van den Brandeler et al. 2019). According to Gyawali (2013), when water academia meets real-time water politics, the latter does not necessarily bow deferentially and listen respectfully. When the former attempts to bring what may be thought of as rational reforms, powerful vested interests, their public façade and stated positions notwithstanding, rise in reaction and are able to scuttle such efforts. It is also observed that problems related to water allocation can replicate at multiple levels, and addressing water conflicts at a local level has larger ramifications for reducing conflicts at the regional, national and international levels (Qutub et al. 2004).

Triggers of water disputes The amount of freshwater available to humankind is theoretically fixed even though its spatial distribution is ever changing due to climatic uncertainties and large-scale water diversions (Tian et al. 2020). With the rapid growth in population and consequent development needs, the pressure on limited freshwater is clearly exceptional. South Asia is becoming increasingly short of freshwater, with demand rapidly outpacing the supply available. There are many transboundary Himalayan rivers that flow through Bhutan, Nepal, India and Bangladesh, transecting some of the most fertile

8  Venkatesh Dutta basins of the world yet containing the largest concentration of the poorest people of the global South. There is an emergence of complex water disputes between different riparian states and between different sectors, which has a genesis in both complexity of politics and complexity of governance over allocation of and access to water. The resolution of transboundary water conflicts has become more of a political issue due to linear but erroneous thinking (Biswas 2011). There are many political, economic and technological barriers that trigger water disputes (Figure 1.4). The disputes can be analyzed from the ‘actor perspective’ rooted in geographies across catchments (local, regional, global, state and non-state, etc.) and ‘issues perspective’ having both local and regional specific relevance (minimum flows, groundwater depletion, privatisation, intersectoral allocation, etc.). There remain numerous fluid concerns and unresolved issues that are at the mercy of political relations between the two riparian countries, often an outcome of the eccentricity of history and geography, rather than a mutual desire to contribute to the costs and benefits of sharing water across borders. The volatile geopolitical environments have given rise to unique cross-­ border disputes, and as a result, transboundary water conflicts are seen alongside the ‘national security perspective’. There are no mechanisms to share data on transboundary water stocks and flows; flow volumes are hydrologically classified as ‘secrets’. There are many bilateral treaties and agreements, prominent among them the Indus Treaty of 1960 or the Ganga Treaty of 1996. They do mention the sharing of data and information between governments, but the actual mechanism

Impoundment of water through barrages and large dams

Lack of reliable informaon on water across basins

Triggers of Water Disputes

Increasing footprint of the agriculture and urban water sector

Figure 1.4  Potential triggers of water disputes.

Absence of any iniave to restructure the water instuons

Shared water  9 of data sharing is impromptu and context driven. They are primarily ad hoc measures. As river basins cross national boundaries, lack of data-sharing mechanisms has affected state and regional governments’ adaptive capacity against extreme events, particularly floods. A classic example is flooding in eastern Uttar Pradesh and Bihar in India from rivers originating in Tibet and Nepal during the middle of the monsoon. In all the riparian states, there is a wide disparity in the format of hydrological data and information. The importance of an extensive database covering major hydrologic and climatic parameters cannot be overemphasised. Still there are areas where no recording station exists. It is important for all the countries that share the Himalayan water resources to establish a network of recording stations on a scale that is useful for the long-term policy actions. The hydrological data is also not made available to researchers due to confidentiality clause in the data-sharing agreements. It is also observed that accurate and comprehensive data relating to water flow in different months of the year are not being collected, maintained or published systematically (Surie and Prasai 2015). As the rivers enter the plains, they routinely change their course, braiding into many branches, depositing large amount of silt on the lowlands. That is how the landforms of the plains and delta have evolved. Many rivers make natural boundaries between two countries or states, and they are not static. When the flood causes rivers to swell up during the monsoon, the border remains unsettled. In a situation when the entire region of Ganges is drained by hundreds of rivers, dynamics of the border changes with each flooding cycle. India–Nepal border is a classic example of this paradox. Usually pillars are erected to demarcate the boundaries, but they do not survive during extreme flooding events. The rivers bring millions of tons of silt and spread them onto the plain, with emergence of new landforms. Sometimes, the border disputes and cooperation are both fashioned and agreed upon by the local people, even without the involvement of the governments on the two sides. Evidently, the physical border has no genuine connotation in the lives of common people who quite often find employment as well as own property across the official border. Natural water systems work on the large-scale ‘natural variability ­function’ – which imparts them special qualities. However, the supply-side engineering controls work on the ‘dependability principle’ that tries to diminish the variability to favour steady hydropower production, irrigation and even flood control in lowlands. The large-scale natural variability in the pattern, intensity and duration of runoff is largely governed by the distinct seasonality of the rainfall and basin geo-morphology. The extreme relief of the Himalaya–Ganga system with highland–lowland complexity, including inimitable foothills, gives rise to large floods almost every year. This also results in sediment transport to the surrounding plains, creating some of the largest fertile lands on the planet. The quantification of flow volumes is often missed by the flow forecasting models – such is the complexity of the catchments. Even within the basin there are large-scale variations, making

10  Venkatesh Dutta generalisation of flow volumes difficult. Thus a fixed water allocation and utilisation formula cannot work in all the years. Changing the boundary of the basin or watershed to accommodate competing interests and minimise conflicts is far-fetched and unlikely to happen except on the micro scale. Instead, water management can focus on the functional aspects of scale and administrative boundaries. This can be done by ignoring the boundaries and respecting the flow of the water in a spirit of compromise and solidiarity (Matthews and Germain 2007).

Water conflicts and contextual fitness between facts, frames and fairness criteria of cooperation The degradation of freshwater threatens millions of people living in Nepal, India and Bangladesh in the Ganga River Basin, which is a part of the larger Ganges–Brahmaputra–Meghna (GBM) basin. It forms the second-largest river basin in the world, which has the most densely populated regions. About fifty-four rivers cross the border between upstream India and downstream Bangladesh, making the region one of the most productive freshwater deltas of the world – Bengal Delta in Bangladesh. Similarly hundreds of rivers and rivulets flow from Nepal to India. However, only the Ganga River and a few of its major tributaries are considered in the bilateral agreements. The flow of Ganga recedes during the lean seasons due to heavy demands from irrigation and water diversions. As Gyawali (2013) sumps up, ‘academics who study water have done so mostly from the perspectives of efficiency (engineering economics) or of procedures (law) but not to that same degree from the perspectives of politics and issues of fairness.’ After India’s independence, India and Pakistan signed an Indus Water Treaty in 1960. In 1996, India and Bangladesh signed the Ganga Treaty for sharing the water of Ganga at the Farakka Barrage, downstream of which Ganga becomes the Padma River in Bangladesh. In India, disputes took particular prominence post-independence. The complexity of state laws, institutions and policies shaped the language of conflicts over time with different evolutionary trajectories. The conflicts over water sharing between upstream and downstream regions of the basin become more challenging when the potential for augmenting supply is limited, groundwater tables are falling rapidly and water quality is increasingly compromised due to industrial waste, sewage and agricultural runoff. The major tributaries and the Ganga River have been harnessed for irrigation, hydropower generation and drinking water supply to rural and urban areas. To obtain these benefits, Nepal and India have signed agreements on the Koshi, Gandaki and Mahakali rivers in 1954, 1959 and 1996, respectively. The first Treaty on Mahakali, concluded in 1920, was subsumed in 1996 by Integrated Treaty on the Mahakali River. The Ganga Treaty, essentially to allocate water downstream of the Farakka Barrage, is based on long-term average flows between 1949 and 1988. Since the early 1980s, the lean season flow in the Ganges at Farakka has

Shared water  11 declined considerably due to an increase in canal irrigation dependent on Ganga, upstream of the barrage. During the lean seasons, Bangladesh does not receive the desirable Treaty-apportioned flow. These treaties have paved the way for the construction of barrages, canals, hydropower plants and embankments. These structures have brought some temporary benefits. However, they have also resulted in many unintended consequences. Indo–Nepal Treaty on the Mahakali River was signed in 1996 to share water of Mahakali on the basis of equal partnership and cost-benefit sharing with respect to hydropower, irrigation and flood control measures. A primary guiding principle applicable to this border river was delineated as ‘equal entitlement in the utilization of the waters of the Mahakali River without prejudice to their respective existing consumptive uses of the waters’. However, the costs have been unequally shared when the long-term consequences of water diversions and controls are considered. The progress in the implementation of these water treaties has been marred by delays, and there have been many ups and downs in transboundary cooperation intended to resolve the conflicts, as they disproportionally control the flow of water and fail to rationally share the values and uses of the river between the two bordering countries (Singh 2008). There is a distinct dichotomy in the living standards of the mountain communities and those living in the plains. Large-scale technological intervention destroys the incentive environments of the mountain communities, who otherwise need small-scale intervention. Technologies are designed to neutralise this difference by neglecting the distinct biophysical system of the mountain ecosystems, and communities that depend on them. For example, the supply of water in the mountains depends upon water from natural springs and streams. Even irrigation requirements are met by gravity flow of streams and diversions of smaller channels. This has continued for years. However, the scheme of providing every households a piped water supply system through heavy pumping has not only destroyed the springs and streams but also led to the over-exploitation of water resources. The rapid growth of the settlements in mountain areas has also fuelled the demand for more hydropower. The forest ecosystems are converted into agriculture fields, requiring more water for irrigation. These development pressures have resulted in the culture of large dams by respective riparian states, affecting ecological flow regimes of the rivers. Demand for dams is routinely made by the governments, largely coming from the urban capitals and their surrounding networks of irrigation canals, that aspire to grow in the economic interests. Flood control by the embankments is a politically accepted action in the lowland areas where rivers like to meander. The large body of literature based on experiences of the lowland communities have evidenced that embankments intensify floods. The large flow volumes with equally large amounts of sediment threaten the channelising structures, including the storage capacity of the dams. These projects are not based on sound ecological knowledge. The interests of the civil engineering industries dominate. They are also taken up to support the large water

12  Venkatesh Dutta resources departments of the state which consider water as an ‘engineering problem’. Micro-level water management is not favoured by the water resource engineers. The Koshi river alluvial fan, which is one of the largest in the world, is a product of the cyclic floods and sediment transport of Himalaya–Ganga system. In 2008, during a monsoon, the river changed the course and selected its old path, which it had abandoned over a hundred years earlier. The river breached the embankments, submerging several districts and affecting over three million people. The water conflicts between two countries and states have been guided by rivalries, mistrust and power relationships. A common thread that runs across all water treaties is that a legally binding agreement of sharing water may not be constructed to mean ‘meaningful cooperation’ between the signatories. It has been observed that the parties do not want to go beyond the status quo (Figure 1.5). Another typical pattern is that no one wants to talk during the water surplus season when rivers flood (sharing of the burden) – most of the treaties practically regulate the volumetric allocation of river flow during the dry season. There is an emergence of understanding in the literature that equitable distribution and utilisation of shared rivers may not be the same as equitable river sharing due to ignorance of holistic approaches of river basin management. The burden of costs and benefits are differently and disproportionally shared between the two riparian states. Various authors have indicated that progress on managing conflicts of transboundary rivers, especially between India and Nepal and India and Bangladesh, have been slow and unsatisfactory due to lack of guiding

sustain the conflict treaty is intended to transform

lack of a conflict resoluon mechanism polical relaonship based on mutual mistrust

Figure 1.5  The perpetual cogs of transboundary water disputes which sustain the conflicts rather than resolving them.

Shared water  13 framework for water allocation, planning and management; lack of adjustments and adaptations in treaties; and lack of models of cooperation and collaboration that are neutral to political leaderships (Bandyopadhyay 2007, 2016; Shree 2020; Tiwary 2006). Deep-rooted distrust, asymmetric power relationships and hostility that have origins in political leadership and are not water-related take the prominence in conflict resolution (Figure 1.6). There is a lack of trust between the neighbouring countries due to border disputes and other non-water-related issues. Enamul Choudhury (Chapter 2) argues that negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes rests on the alignment of facts, frames and fairness wherein frames provide the contextual fitness between facts and fairness criteria. Fairness is not fixed but ‘contextual’ and emergent in terms of the processes of interaction that implicate judgement. He prefers to use disputes and not conflicts, as disputes are issue centered conflicts in which one can identify the common, competing, and divergent interests that form the basis of solving them. Conflicts are not solvable in terms of focusing only on a specific issue, and their solution often takes generational time-spans along with fundamental shifts in historical and cultural conditions. He later mentions that negotiation commences after a dispute arises and gradually becomes an element in the public perception of conflict. The transboundary water governance rests not on discrete natural or social facts but on the nature of their interrelations. These interrelationships are increasingly recognised as a complex coupled system – the coupling of natural processes, physical structures, legal, social and institutional processes – ­giving rise to the conception of transboundary water as a socio-ecological

Lack of guiding framework for water allocaon, planning and management

• for many major transboundary rivers, there are no treaes for water allocaon between all the co-basin countries • countries prefer to have bilateral negoaons instead of mullateral negoaons between the co-basin countries

Lack of adjustments and adaptaons in treaes

•stac water treaes do not repond well to changing hydroecosystems, •condions change over me: treaes become increasingly out of tune in wake of emerging situaons •the treaes do not use emerging economic instruments, instuonal innovaons and technological advances due to their stac framework

Models of cooperaon and collaboraon are guided by polical leaderships

•conflict resoluon based on relaonships between the affected countries: border conflicts affect the negoang atmosphere •absence of properly formulated negoang plaorms, networks and frameworks

Figure 1.6  Factors that affect the conflict resolution landscape.

14  Venkatesh Dutta process. The facts of socio-ecological processes have given rise to the need for and challenges of effective transboundary governance. Transboundary water cooperation an outcome of geopolitics – Indus, Ganga and Teesta river basins Gauri Noolkar-Oak (Chapter 3) elaborates on why transboundary water cooperation between India and its neighbouring countries is narrow, state-centric and reductionist, despite the existence of bilateral treaties and/or sharing mechanisms. The conflict resolution mechanisms are nothing but the product of geopolitics of the subcontinent, and there is lack of serious attempt between the neighbouring countries for meaningful transboundary water cooperation. She believes that the treaties have fallen short of giving any comprehensive benefits to riparian communities. According to her synopsis, the ‘lukewarm’ nature of transboundary water cooperation in the Indian subcontinent has little to do with the actual sharing and development of the concerned river basins and instead is a product of geopolitics in the region. She analyses three treaties – the Indus Waters Treaty, the Ganga Treaty and the draft Teesta Treaty – and highlights various geopolitical factors that influence them. She also attempts to explore ways in which India can leverage regional geopolitical realities to establish meaningful and mutually beneficial transboundary water cooperation in the s­ ubcontinent. The transboundary Indus River flows through China, India, Pakistan and Afghanistan, with its basin covering largest areas in India and Pakistan. Due to escalating conflicts during 1950s between India and Pakistan, the two major riparian countries signed the Indus Water Treaty in 1960. The treaty does not address the issues of climatic variability and ecological flows, which requires a holistic understanding of the basin’s changing hydroclimatic realities. ‘Waterscapes’ as a perspective to examine and understand water-centric landscapes Issues along River Ravi in Pakistan and India are cross-cutting in nature with issues of water primarily linked to hydrological constraints. Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar (Chapter 4) explore border narratives of hydro-diplomacy from Indian Punjab and Pakistan Punjab. They put forward ‘waterscapes’ as a perspective to examine and understand water-­ centric landscapes and elicit lived problem ‘shared’ by the people of Indian and Pakistan Punjab. They also argue that understanding the river and its supporting ecosystem should be an essential criterion for informing water-diplomacy and the context and sharing of the water should be accordingly broadened and deepened. They identify certain micro narratives which are salient to understanding how meanings associated with water change across scales. Considering this as an important gap, which currently exists in the discourse on water diplomacy, the authors resort to identify

Shared water  15 certain local-discourses which are salient to understanding how water is being understood and how meanings associated with it change overtime. In order to facilitate this analysis, waterscapes has been employed as an analytical category because they offer a useful conceptual tool to imagine riverine landscapes which are often a hostage to cartographic constructions prioritising a statist paradigm. They further attempt to answer some of the critical questions confronting conflicts and cooperation when deliberating on water-courses of South Asia – Can the understanding of waterscapes facilitate a more nuanced approach to highlight the potential for conflict and cooperation? In what ways can the local discourses surrounding the idea of ‘shared waterscapes’ inform the narrative of hydro-diplomacy? Why should the waterscape perspective considered expedient to larger macro narrative of hydro-diplomacy and what relationship can it have for the discourse on water conflicts in general are some questions they seek to explore. Policy landscape of transboundary water sharing: typified by a patron–client relationship The Koshi River is the largest river of Nepal flowing in the easatern part; the Arun, the Sun Koshi and the Bhote Koshi are some of its major tributaries that originate from Tibet. The Koshi River Basin shared between India and Nepal continues to be a multilayered river basin management challenge for scientists, engineers, scholars, academic institutions, humanitarian aid agencies, rights groups and the governments in the two countries. In order to control the Koshi River, the Koshi Project, consisting of a barrage constructed in Nepal and embankments in the upstream and downstream of the barrage, was commissioned in 1954. The Koshi Project, being the first joint venture between India and Nepal implemented on an international river, not only failed to deliver its stated benefits but has resulted in unintended environmental injustice. Acknowledging it failure, followed by replacing the 1966 Project-centric agreement with an improved regime that aims at capacity improvement to deal with future floods, institutional strengthening and accountability mechanisms is the need of the day. Ajaya Dixit et al. (Chapter 5) explains the historical context of the Koshi Agreement, which sets the stage for the modern political economy of water use in the basin. Policymaking in the Koshi Basin at the local, national and transnational levels happens through the state(s) and their agencies. Policy landscape is typified by a patron–client relationship between the state and citizens, despite the fact that local people are both the users and the custodians of the Koshi’s water resources. People’s role in custodianship of the river is largely ignored in these policies. While states pursue their agenda of physical interventions to manipulate the stock and flow of water for sectoral benefits, they pay scant attention to the importance of terrestrial and riverine ecosystems, the conservation of freshwater biodiversity and the needs of downstream ecologies and communities. The authors look at contestation over water resource development and management at the local,

16  Venkatesh Dutta national and transnational levels in Koshi Basin in both India and Nepal. They approach contestation from four dimensions: (1) multiple uses and scales, (2) the prevalent sectoral water development approach, (3) states’ and citizens’ interests, and (4) interests and priorities at the local, national and transnational levels. The arguments are presented from the diverse perspectives of the state and its agencies, the private sector, civil society and the citizenry at large in these two neighbouring countries. Each agency – state, the private sector, civil society and the citizenry – maintains different viewpoints. They argue that these differences are likely to produce contestation and complicate opportunities for the co-production of knowledge between the neighbouring countries. The process of co-production is necessary to build cooperation. The authors mention that the standard approach of integrated water resource management is referred to at the theoretical level but not practised during the actual sharing of water – ‘This failure to apply theory is unfortunate as continuation of business as usual, perpetuating the sectoral approach to development and management, will only serve to accentuate the degradation of the basin’s water and natural resources.’ Shawahiq Siddiqui (Chapter 6) presents an intresting case study from a grounded perspective of victims of Koshi embankment projects who continue to suffer and seek environmental justice. The transboundary legal response has been quite half-hearted from both sides of the river basin. The disaster of 2008 caused by breaching of eastern embankmens was in fact aggravated by the embankments, seldom repaired since they were first built during 1950s, that restricted the heavy flow carried out by a very large and dynamic river basin, resulting in a huge loss of lives and infrastructure. The river carries 90 per cent of its total annual sediment load during the monsoon, which causes heavy siltation in the downstream reaches. The recurrent flooding caused by the Kohsi Project converts a large part of the basin into a permanent waterlogged area. The river is so dynamic that huge meso-scale changes in upstream braiding segment of the Koshi River between Chatara (about 40 km upstream of the India–Nepal border) and the Koshi Barrage as well as the downstream reach in Bihar take place periodically (Devkota et al. 2012, 2018; Mishra 2008). The river has been narrowing and shifting eastwards till its confluence with the Ganges River in Bihar changing from braiding to meandering river in its downstream reaches. Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla (Chapter 7) examine benefits and burdens of the Gandak River Agreement between Nepal and India as a case to assess performance of the infrastructure built within its ambit and the value to the people at the local level. It examines the state of services provided by the infrastructure that serves Nepal’s specific geographic region. They present the unintended consequences of the interventions and some of the ongoing dynamics of negotiations. They advocate for a more inclusive and deliberative process of conversation with the objective of promoting stewardship of water at local, national and transboundary levels. It is perhaps time to redefine the notion of ‘interest’ and ‘benefit’ mentioned in

Shared water  17 the preamble of the Gandak Agreement to resonate with changing times. The socio-politico-economic context in India and Nepal is not that of 1959 when the agreement was signed. The pace of socio-political changes in Nepal has been rather rapid after 1990, though the country has not done well on economic fronts. Regional and local conflicts – issues of peri-urban dynamics, water transfer and (re)allocation Securing water supplies for growing urban and peri-urban populations becomes challenging when resources are limited with competing users. There are several instances of regional and local water conflicts where competition and contestation has led to alternative models of service delivery from utilities. Water sector reform takes a policy shift towards privatisation with a reduced role of the state; this has happened without reforming the governance. While such reforms have been successful in other sectors, such as telecom, energy and aviation, privatisation in the water sector has affected the sustainability of resources with reduced access to basic services for the large population. This largely stems from the fact that water as a whole cannot be treated as an economic good, and the economy is but a small part of the larger ecosystem, which often gets fragmented attention while reforming the sector. Institutional complexities and challenges in resource allocation may shed some light on models of conflicts and cooperation. Locally evolved ­institutions – their norms, practices and codes of conduct – have an important role in sharing of water between two competing regions. Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain (Chapter 8) examine how changes in land use affect water availability in two peri-urban settings with different agro-­ecological and institutional contexts. The emerging dynamics may result in three unique situations, namely conflicts of interest, conflicts and cooperation. They find that changes in land use are associated with changes in patterns of water appropriation. It is interesting to see that appropriation of water from the rural to urban areas, or from rural to urban purposes, does not necessarily translate into situations of conflict; rather, it can also give rise to models of cooperation. They argue that, ‘in the peripheral spaces of the city, governance of resources is more pronounced in the non-statutory realm.’ They also observe that water allocation is shaped by social and power relationships. Research should document these socially embedded forms of resource governance and their interface with statutory systems of governance. The discourses on flood disasters and conflicts have overlooked gender issues. Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa (Chapter 9) look into flood disasters as situations of conflicts specifically to probe deeper into the particular risks and tensions emanating from the lives of women. They recommend a gendered understanding of hydrological hazards in order to move beyond the discourse of disaster management towards understanding the underlying conflicts that need immediate attention. South Asian region has unique

18  Venkatesh Dutta socio-economic conditions, cultural beliefs and traditional practices wherein women are more likely to be disproportionately affected by disasters. This includes increased loss of livelihoods, gender-based violence, and even loss of life during and in the aftermath of disasters. Hence, the empowerment of women is a critical ingredient in building resilience to disaster and reducing disaster risks. Water conflicts resulting from recurrent droughts infringe upon the basic human rights of the aggrieved communities. Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta (Chapter 10) present their study from water-scarce Bundelkhand Region of Uttar Pradesh, India to substantiate how water scarcity continuously poses threats to human security and pushes the people to live in worsening socio-economic conditions. Recurrent droughts induce absolute scarcity of water which contributes to shoddier soils and poor irrigation practices and reduced agriculture production, intensifying regional and local food insecurity. The insufficient production and availability of food further negatively affects the health and well-being of inhabitants with health burdens such as anemia and malnutrition. Area and township development projects in the active floodplain of the rivers originate from perception and imaginaries of modernity and progress. River management for infrastructure projects has always been done by civil engineers, often without carrying any impact assessment on environment. The resultant approach of such projects is that they do not take into account the identity of the river as a ‘living entity’, the ecology of a river as well as its integration in the social and cultural fabric of the population on its banks. There is also a distinction between ‘urban rivers’ and relatively unimpacted ‘rural rivers’ – an elitist approach that fragments rivers into built landscape in urban areas through cosmetic beautification projects. Prerna Yadav (Chapter 11) examines Gomti and Sabarmati riverfront projects as potential water conflict schemes that convert the fragile river banks into built landscapes and attract real estate projects at the cost of ecological values. There is a serious need to evaluate these ecologically dangerous projects. These cosmetic restoration projects ignore environmental impact assessments and overall ecological implications on water availability in the long run. Conflicts over water reallocation from agriculture to urban users Strained relationships among competing states/users over allocation of water become challenging to negotiate and may aggravate existing tensions as well as impede progress toward resolving already existing broader conflicts. Local and regional wars over water are happening – largely when regulators divert irrigation water to cities and industries, municipal water services are privatised, riverfronts are developed for real estate projects, and hydropower projects cause displacement of people and loss of place-based ecology and cultural memory. This affects hundreds of millions of poor people around the world.

Shared water  19 One of the most prominent ways to meet the growing demands of urban communities is transfer of water from irrigated agriculture (Gollehon, 1999). One common assumption in such transfer is ‘market efficiency’ in the sense that such transfers shift water to higher-valued uses. However, in reality, the cost of large-scale water transfer from agriculturally dependent rural communities may be much large and prove to be economically inefficient in the long run (Rosegrant and Ringler 2000). There are several studies that document large diversions and (re)allocation of water from rural areas to the cities in the wake of increasing water demand from urban areas. Water-exporting communities face several conflicts that have been the subject of little socio-economic enquiry. Simran Sumbre, Rahul Raja, Neha Bhadbhade and K. J. Joy (Chapter 12) present an interesting case study of conflicts over water reallocation from Maharashtra. The authors argue that issue of intersectoral water transfers are surrounded by multiple adverse impacts which could potentially affect crop yield and food production in otherwise water-sufficient areas. It is not an exaggeration to term such projects as ‘engineering blunder’. Transfer of water out of agriculture and (re)allocation of water from rural areas to the cities involves substantial ‘reconfiguration of hydro-socio-economic territories’. Key adjustments that are to be made in place include secured water rights to farmers, decentralisation of water management functions, pricing reform with design of incentives to poor farmers and implementation of water efficiency measures through water-saving technologies.

Conclusion Water and its supported ecosystems are central to promoting peaceful cooperation and achieving sustainable development goals. Transboundary and regional water conflicts are increasingly becoming national problems for many regions of the world. Most of the case studies highlight good and awkward solutions as well as bad and elegant failures of water resource development in the Indian subcontinent over the last half century. Due to absence of sound legal, administrative and institutional frameworks, water allocation rules cause social resitance between riparian states. The sharing of burdens is disproportionally designed and excecuted, futher sparking conflicts within the communities. Local politics, short-termism in policy making and embedded vested interests deform the public discourse on water sharing and cooperation. One of the key issues that emerged from the literature is how waterscapes should be managed taking a purist approach using system science integrating river design, landscape, ecology, morphology, social settings and adequate knowledge base to restore degraded ecosystems supported by water. In state revenue records, many of the smaller rivers and tributaries of the bigger rivers have not been recorded properly and their lengths have been underestimated. The habitat of rivers are being fragmented with many pressure, impact, response triggers. The restoration efforts have anchoring bias of funders. Technologies are non-neutral and

20  Venkatesh Dutta have an obsession with the ‘bigger is better’ thinking. Ecologically devastating projects like interlinking of rivers, water transport projects and riverfront projects are being projected as ‘engines of growth’. Market and economic forces dominate over ecological demands and carrying capacity of the basins. Rivers are being over-allocated without realising the consequences, floodplains are being encroached upon, and storage and hydro projects are threatening the flow regimes. Demand-side management is still not talked about. Overall the situation is messy, and we must take a midcourse correction both at the policy and practice levels. The dominant water discourse speaks of integrated basin management but underestimates issues of hydropolitics, and their consequences on transboundary and regional conflicts affecting water allocation. The conflicts are generally presented as having originated in scarcity of water resources. However, water scarcity does not necessarily lead to transboundary water conflicts; instead the underlying reason could be power asymmetry and geopolitics, entitlement of property rights and lack of forward-looking institutions governing water. The fundamental position of the scholarly research is situated on two major planks of water management: first, the role of cooperation and coordination of riparians, including local governments and basin authorities; and second, the significance of fairness and rationality in the complex and multidimensional regime of water allocation in resolving transboundary water conflicts. There is a greater need of evolving holistic, coordinated and equitable transboundary and regional policies that support cooperation and collaboration and improves overall ecosystem function of water resources.

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Shared water  21 Dombrowsky, I. 2010. ‘The role of intra-water sector issue linkage in the resolution of transboundary water conflicts’, Water International, 35(2): 132–149. Frey, F. W. 1993. ‘The political context of conflict and cooperation over international river basins’, Water International, 18(1): 54–68. Gollehon, N. R. 1999. ‘Water markets implications for rural areas of the west’, Rural America/Rural Development Perspectives, 14(2221–2019–2691): 57–63. Gyawali, D. 2003. Rivers, Technology and Society: Learning the Lessons from Water Management in Nepal. London and Kathmandu: Zed Books and Himal Books. Gyawali, D. 2013. ‘Reflecting on the chasm between water punditry and water politics’, Water Alternatives, 6(2): 177. Gyawali, D., & Dixit, A. 1994. ‘The Himalaya Ganga: Contending with interlinkages in a complex system’, Water Nepal, 4(1): 1–6. Jager, N. W., Challies, E., Kochskämper, E., Newig, J., Benson, D., et al. 2016. ‘Transforming European water governance? Participation and river basin management under the EU Water Framework Directive in 13 member states’, Water, 8(4): 156. Matthews, O. P., & Germain, D. S. 2007. ‘Boundaries and transboundary water conflicts’, Journal of Water Resources Planning and Management, 133(5): 386–396. Mehta, L. 2000. Water for the Twenty-first Century: Challenges and Misconceptions, IDS Working Paper 111. Institute of Development Studies, University of Sussex, Brighton. Mishra, D. K. 2008. Trapped between the Devil and the Deep Waters – Story of Bihar’s Kosi River. New Delhi, India: People’s Science Institute & SANDRAP. Molle, F., Mollinga, P. P., & Wester, P. 2009. ‘Hydraulic bureaucracies and the hydraulic mission: flows of water, flows of power’, Water Alternatives, 2(3): 328–349. Mollinga, P. P. 2001. ‘Water and politics: Levels, rational choice and South Indian canal irrigation’, Futures, 33(8/9): 733–752. Mollinga, P. P. 2008. ‘Water, politics and development: framing a political sociology of water resources management’, Water Alternatives, 1(1): 7. Ohlsson, L. 2000. ‘Water conflicts and social resource scarcity’, Physics and Chemistry of the Earth, Part B: Hydrology, Oceans and Atmosphere, 25(3): 213–220. Pakhtigian, E. L., Jeuland, M., Dhaubanjar, S., & Pandey, V. P. 2019. ‘Balancing intersectoral demands in basin-scale planning: The case of Nepal’s western river basins’, Water Resources and Economics, 30: 100152. Qin, Y., Mueller, N. D., Siebert, S., Jackson, R. B., AghaKouchak, A., et al. 2019. ‘Flexibility and intensity of global water use’, Nature Sustainability, 2(6): 515–523. Qutub, S. A., Saleemi, A. R., Reddy, M. S., Char, N. V. V., Gyawali, D., et al. 2004. Water Sharing Conflicts within Countries, and Possible Solutions. WASSA Project Reports, Honolulu: Global Environment and Energy in the 21st Century. Rosegrant, M. W., & Ringler, C. 2000. ‘Impact on food security and rural development of transferring water out of agriculture’, Water Policy, 1(6): 567–586. Roth, D., Khan, M. S. A., Jahan, I., Rahman, R., Narain, V., et al. 2019. ‘Climates of urbanization: local experiences of water security, conflict and cooperation in peri-urban South-Asia’, Climate Policy, 19(1): S78–S93. Schlager, E., & Heikkila, T. 2009. ‘Resolving water conflicts: A comparative analysis of interstate river compacts’, Policy Studies Journal, 37(3): 367–392.

22  Venkatesh Dutta Shah, M. 2019. ‘Crafting a paradigm shift in water’. In: Singh, A., Saha, D., Tyagi, A. (eds) Water Governance: Challenges and Prospects (pp. 341–368). Singapore: Springer. Shree, R. 2020. ‘Mapping the water disputes in India: Nature, issues and emerging trends’. In: Ranjan A. (eds) Water Issues in Himalayan South Asia (pp. 103–123). Singapore: Palgrave Macmillan. Singh, R. 2008. Trans-boundary Water Politics and Conflicts in South Asia: Towards Water for Peace. New Delhi, India: Centre for Democracy and Social Action. Suhardiman, D., Bastakoti, R. C., Karki, E., & Bharati, L. 2018. ‘The politics of river basin planning and state transformation processes in Nepal’, Geoforum, 96: 70–76. Surie, M., & Prasai, S. 2015. Strengthening Transparency and Access to Information on Transboundary Rivers in South Asia. New Delhi, India: The Asia Foundation. Tian, G. L., Liu, J. N., Li, X. Y., Li, Y. Q., & Yin, H., 2020. ‘Water rights trading: A new approach to dealing with trans-boundary water conflicts in river basins’, Water Policy, 22(2): 133–152. Tiwary, R. 2006. ‘Conflicts over international waters’, Economic and Political Weekly, 41(17): 1684–1692. van den Brandeler, F., Gupta, J., & Hordijk, M. 2019. ‘Megacities and rivers: Scalar mismatches between urban water management and river basin management’, Journal of Hydrology, 573: 1067–1074. Wester, P., & Warner, J. 2002. ‘River basin management reconsidered’. In: Anthony, T., & Henwood, R. (eds) Hydropolitics in the Developing World: A Southern African Perspective (pp. 61–71). Pretoria, South Africa: African Water Issues Research Unit, Centre for International Politics, University of Pretoria. World Water Development Report. 2015. Water for a Sustainable World. Geneva, Switzerland: UN-Water. Zeitoun, M., Mirumachi, N., Warner, J., Kirkegaard, M. & Cascão, A. 2020. ‘Analysis for water conflict transformation’. Water International, 45(4): 365–384. Zeitoun, M., & Warner, J. 2006. ‘Hydro-hegemony – a framework for analysis of trans-boundary water conflicts’, Water Policy, 8(5): 435–460.

Part I

Transboundary conflicts

2 Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes A function of facts, frames and fairness Enamul Choudhury

Today our global and local expertise to gather and use facts is unprecedented, as is our increasing concern and activism for fairness, and the varied ways to understand environmental issues. Yet, one can legitimately ask: Why this wide variety and capacity have failed to provide coherent explanation and solution to transboundary governance problems? Given the human limitations, both institutional and disciplinary, this chapter argues that the reason for the gap lies in the relative absence of two related processes. The first is the inability to narrow down conflicts into disputes in order to make problems amenable to available solutions and to build confidence in making incremental progress. The second is the lack of focus on aligning facts, frames and fairness to fit with each other in a given context. Based on this reasoning, the chapter encapsulates the main argument that negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes rests on the alignment of facts, frames and fairness. Frames provide the contextual fitness between facts and fairness criteria. To introduce and elaborate on this argument, I have adopted a style that differs from the convention by addressing the key terms used in the title and subtitle of the chapter. The title uses the term dispute rather than conflict. Although in many works the two terms are used interchangeably, I do not do that here. Disputes are issue-centered conflicts in which one can identify the common, competing and divergent interests that form the basis of solving them. This is not the case with conflicts. Conflicts are not solvable in terms of focusing only on a specific issue, and their solution often takes generational time spans along with fundamental shifts in historical and cultural conditions. Thus, negotiation of a transboundary dispute (and not conflict) constitutes the scope of the chapter: for example, the dispute over water allocation, quality, sustainable use, adaptive management or the adequate provision for environmental services. The second term used in the title is resolution rather than solution. Negotiation commences after a dispute arises and gradually becomes an element in the public perception of conflict. Stakeholders within their own jurisdiction first seek to take control of the dispute in terms of their respective spheres of expertise and authority. For example, water ministries devise policies and action plans to mitigate the problems they face in a dispute.

26  Enamul Choudhury Only when such actions do not yield the intended results – for example, when disputants resort to retaliation or threats – that the disputants decide to negotiate. This decision may be prompted by their own cognition or influenced by a third party to switch the mode of interaction from conflict to negotiation. Thus, negotiation as a means of dispute resolution is not engaged right away, but only after the initial set of unilateral actions by the disputants have failed to secure their desired results, that is, exhausting their BATNAs (Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement). Negotiation is a form of joint action, and the form it takes in the negotiation process essentially adds to, modifies, improvises or innovates on the actions that the disputants have taken or agree to undertake and institutionalise within their spheres of authority and jurisdiction. Hence, what negotiation does is revisit the solutions and create the decision premise for the joint resolution. In this way, negotiation essentially resolves rather than comes up with a solution per se. Status quo politics enact solutions to problems, negotiation opens them up for scrutiny and rectifies them; hence, the use of the term – resolution. Finally, the terms in the chapter subtitle point to the approach taken to understand the conditions under which negotiated resolution of disputes can succeed. Here, both facts and fairness are considered as interdependent elements of negotiation, just as a dispute itself is an expression of interdependence. This is because, as a process, negotiation is based on joint and iterative actions that involve mutual learning and adaptive actions (proposals and counterproposals). The interdependence of fact and fairness which characterises such action differs from a linear conception where facts precede value preference and adjudicate them. What allows fact and values to remain interdependent in joint action is the function of frames of meaning that reside in and emerge from the interactions of the disputants. The alignment of facts, frames and fairness criteria shapes the pattern of negotiated cooperation. However, it functions as a contextual and not a causal condition: that is, frames do not cause events but arise from the complex dynamics of events. What occurs is the formation of enabling conditions in terms of setting the process rules of joint action and the decision premise of deliberation. Through enacting such conditions, the negotiation process allows resolutions to emerge from existing capacity, creativity and institutional resources of the disputants. Negotiated cooperation is a fluid process and a protracted one. Sometimes, it rests on the creativity of the disputants and/or the mediator to generate such frame of meaning, and at other times, it results from emergent or unanticipated events. From the aforementioned discussion, we can observe that the alignment of facts, frames and fairness criteria underlie the resolution of disputes though negotiated cooperation. Figure 2.1 depicts the alignment process. Which form of alignment provides the best fit? The answer will depend on the enabling processes that allow for the recognition of interdependence, airing of differences and finding the options to reach agreement. Thus, it is impossible to specify any causal model (predictable cause-and-effect

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  27

Frames Facts

Fairness

Alignment Fitness

Figure 2.1  Alignment fitness of facts, frames and fairness in dispute resolution.

relationship) that can configure the contextual alignment of the fitness of fact–frame–fairness in resolving transboundary disputes. Many researchers have tried and continue to search for such causal model of dispute resolution. However, we don’t yet have such causal model mainly for the reason that the very nature of interdependent processes internally generates the conditions for the functional configuration of facts, frames and fairness.

Discussion of facts, frames and fairness Facts Different kinds of facts are assembled in reasoning about the nature and need of transboundary water governance. The main categories are scientific, physical, social, political and cultural. Each of the fact categories has specific scale and scope of meaning as well as a range of applications. For example, water cycle is global, while the actual availability of water is local. The availability of water (a physical fact of quantity) is a different fact from the fact of the quality of water (a function of user need) and the fact of access to quality water (a function of cultural and political standing). For example, in villages, certain caste members may not be allowed to get water from a well or pond when it is used by upper-caste members, or certain slum areas may not receive any water or receive only intermittent supply, while neighboring upper-class areas may receive regular water supply. Thus, water disputes are understood and presented in terms of the relation among, as well as the ranking of, different types of facts. Let us consider the global facts on the availability and the importance of water. The earth is awash in water, with three-fourth submerged in ocean and the remaining areas covered with ice, snow, rivers, streams, springs, aquifers and rain. The fresh water that is available for use dwindles when we take out ice. The remaining amount is distributed unevenly in landmasses

28  Enamul Choudhury giving rise to areas that are arid, semi-arid or moist. In the backdrop of the natural distribution and dynamics of the hydro-cycle, human use and need for water are driven by different dynamics based on the economic, political and cultural processes of settlement, use and management of fresh water (Falkenmark 2020). It is the overlap and conflict between these two dynamic processes (natural and social), as well as the dynamics within the different boundaries of the social, that give rise to transboundary water disputes and the challenges of transboundary water governance (hereafter, TWG) (Dinar et al. 2007; Priscoli and Wolf 2009; Earle et al. 2010; Kauffman 2015, Susskind et al. 2015; Petersen-Perlman et al. 2017; Choudhury and Islam 2019). Approximately 300 water basins and 600 aquifers cross international borders, and more border crossings occur at the subnational level. Over 400 international treaties and organisations govern the 263 river basins spanning 145 countries on 5 continents (GWP and INBO 2009; Schmeier 2013). The management of border-crossing water requires boundary-­ spanning governance (Schmeier 2013; Susskind et al. 2015; Hefner 2016; Dinar and Dinar 2017; Choudhury and Islam 2019). However, there does not exist any global institution to govern transboundary water (Baranyai 2020a). In addition to this uncertainty, there remains the facts of hydrology and topography that are continually shaping the natural availability and flow of fresh water. The effects of ongoing climate change are also projected to bring uncertain patterns and shifts in the quality and quantity of water – from flooding to salination and from aridity to abundance (Earle et al. 2015). At the same time, the needs of a growing population, particularly in poorer economies, and continuing urbanisation, together with the needs of a globalising economy for more food, energy, land reclamation and ecological services, are putting increasing pressure on nations and subnational jurisdictions to secure the available water for their national projects, economic sectors, localities and user groups (World Health Organization and UNICEF 2013). To sum up, there are a variety of interrelated facts that result in water scarcity, and hence water disputes. It follows that TWG rests not on discrete natural or social facts but on the nature of their interaction. These interrelationships are increasingly recognised as a complex coupled system – the coupling of natural processes, physical structures, legal, social and institutional processes – giving rise to the conception of transboundary water as a socio-ecological process (Feldman 1990; Islam and Susskind 2013). In turn, the facts of socio-ecological processes have given rise to the need for and challenges of effective transboundary governance. However, if socio-ecological processes are not acknowledged, measured and accounted in policy action and negotiation as complex coupled systems, then their status as fact has no bearing on TWG. Thus, the acknowledgement of socio-economic process as a different category of fact is critical for TWG. In reality, one finds the acknowledgement only in words and absent in national policy discourse, because the categorisation of relevant facts is

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  29 based on the current disciplinary processes, expertise or agency jurisdiction. In this context, socio-ecological process that genuinely includes the social in all its complex dimensions lacks both disciplinary cultivation as well as representation in technical and bureaucratic expertise. What constitutes the facts of governance? The following is a general summary based on the distinction of governance, government and management. The distinction is manifest in the emergence of the term – governance. However, the application of the term is often disconnected from the appropriate conditions of its use. For example, using collaborative management with a top-down government planning is an example of disconnect. This is because collaborative management only becomes a real fact when it is undertaken in the context of governance. Governance here refers to forms of collaborative action or arrangement that overcomes the limitations of government (Kettl 2000; Bevir 2013). The term is also used to characterise a neoliberal form of hegemony (Conca 2006). In the context of specific transboundary disputes, governance is also used in reference to evidence-based policy action through varied combinations of science–policy interface, stakeholder participation and dispute resolution (Susskind et al. 2015). In contrast, management refers to the neutral competence in implementing government or corporate policy. This mode of institutional action has other terms of reference, for example, adaptive management, participatory democracy/management or collaborative management. Such forms of governance rest on convergence of shared authority and resources of stakeholders on a policy issue, rather than relying on the top-down planned initiative and the bureaucratic control of governments (Pahl-Wostl 2007, 2020; Moss and Newig 2010). The pattern of transboundary facts addresses the nature, degree and scope of conflict or cooperation in TWG. There are three main categories of facts. The first addresses the historical pattern of water conflicts, the second addresses the pattern of institutional arrangements of water management at different scales, and the third addresses the metric to measure the effects and success of institutional cooperation.

Historical pattern of transboundary water conflicts Here, the pattern of facts rests on the empirical findings that in the recorded history of water conflicts, except on rare occasions, transboundary conflicts have been resolved through negotiated cooperation rather than through armed or protracted conflicts (Wolf 1999b; Yoffe et al. 2003; De Stefano et al. 2010; Giordano et al. 2014). In most cases, the form of cooperation was a treaty, agreement or compact. Researchers have identified more than 3,600 treaties on international water issues between the years 805 and 1984, and since 1945, around 300 treaties were formed on non-­navigational water management issues such as flood control, hydroelectric projects and allocations for consumptive as well as non-consumptive uses of international rivers (Bernauer 2002). In a specific context, for example, the Indus water

30  Enamul Choudhury treaty between India and Pakistan is frequently cited as an example of negotiated cooperation that ended escalating tensions and the possibility of armed conflict between two newly formed nations in 1947 (Biswas 2011). Since 1960 (the signing year of the treaty), these two countries have gone to war multiple times, yet they continue to remain bound to the provisions of the treaty (Miner et al. 2009; Choudhury 2017). This general fact of the history of transboundary cooperation rests on statistical evidence, and hence on average incidence. Thus, irrespective of the question of the reliability of coding, the trend of cooperation does not account for context-specific conflicts that persist despite efforts made for their negotiated resolution. Examples of unresolved transboundary conflicts include that between Israel and Palestine over groundwater, between Egypt, Sudan and Ethiopia over the Nile water, and between India and Pakistan over the use of the headwaters of the Indus river in the disputed Kashmir valley. While the fact that negotiated cooperation has prevented and diffused the fear of impending water wars, the pattern does not and cannot address the possibility of wars occurring in the future (Subramanian 2019; Baranyai 2020b). This possibility remains for the simple reason that the future may not repeat the past pattern, particularly in a specific context of conflict (especially those identified as basins at risk). For example, there was no pattern or even any past incidence of conflict between the United States and Iraq, yet that did not prevent the United States to initiate war against Iraq and affect a regime change. Thus, different patterns emerge when conditions change. Furthermore, despite the historical pattern of the fact that cooperation pre-empted conflicts from escalating into violence, cooperation remains absent in many areas of transboundary disputes. For example, as of now, over two-thirds of the world’s transboundary rivers do not have a cooperative management framework (SIWI 2018). To address this deficit, there are calls for water cooperation and efforts to create institutional arrangements at the global, regional, bilateral and local levels (WWAP 2012; Milman and Gerlak 2020).

Institutional arrangements of cooperation Although in most cases water conflicts have not yet led to wars, in many places they raise old and new security concerns and political tensions between and among riparian states. This fact points to importance of political climate in the formation of institutional cooperation. Security concerns and tensions dampen the prospect of peaceful coexistence and prevent peaceful cooperation to emerge at the regional and local levels. As a result, a new set of facts has emerged to capture the scope of conflict – often labelled as new security issues that encompass both environmental and human security (Lankford et al. 2013, Falkenmark 2020). This recognition has given rise to initiatives and movements for devising or changing global and national policies based upon human rights to water and the sustainability

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  31 of environmental resources for the present and future generations (Conca 2006). Examples include the formation of the now expired MDG (and its replacement by the SDG) and UN initiatives of institutional cooperation based on the activism of global and regional bodies like the WWC, GWP and IUCN, as well as numerous non-governmental organisations. Security through equitable and sustainable water provision and use has emerged as an important fact of TWG. This fact accounts for the conceptualisation of water resource as global commons or public good in need of responsible and integrated management. The effect of this emergent fact on the institutional arrangement of TWG is that it has subordinated the earlier focus on economic efficiency and productivity, and has expanded the management of water resources in relation to the facilitation of international trade, climate change adaptation, sustainable growth, food security, improved governance and regional integration. Despite these developments at the global level, it also remains a fact that effective cooperation is also absent in many disputes over transboundary water. This is the situation that prevails in the disputes over sharing the Nile, Mekong, Ganges, Brahmaputra and many other basins (Schmeier 2013; Mirumachi 2015; Hanasz 2018). In some cases, institutional cooperation is simply missing, as on Tigris and Euphrates. Present or absent, it is now a fact that the resolution of transboundary disputes is viewed as a requisite condition of long-term planning and investment in economic development, agriculture, energy, urban growth and conserving sensitive ecologies. Thus, an emergent fact in TWG is the critical importance of finding solutions to the political problems of institutional cooperation. This has supervened the reliance on unilateral action based on technological innovations and government planning which has been the main pattern of action in the past (Bernauer 2002; Conca 2006; Bakker 2010, Petersen-Perlman et al. 2017; Wilder and Ingram 2018). A variety of facts attest to the importance of finding solution to the political problems of institutional cooperation. Many initiatives have been taken or are underway to find effective institutional arrangement at various levels of TWG. At the global level, the long and successful ratification of the 1997 UN Convention on non-navigational uses of water has begun to institute an international legal regime to resolve transboundary water disputes. Despite its present ambiguities, the Convention allows disputes to be addressed beyond the laws of national jurisdictions (Salman 2015; Gupta 2016). At the regional level, institutional regimes like the EU Water Directive Framework covers disputes among the twenty-eight EU nations. Similarly, institutional regimes of TWG that are relatively effective in river basins like the Colorado, Columbia and Indus point to the effectiveness of negotiated cooperation through treaty regimes. At the national level, there are also accords or compacts that have successfully instituted cooperative arrangements among subnational jurisdictions. So far, nations have established over thirty river basin management programs on five continents (­Priscoli and Wolf 2009; Schmeier 2013; Kauffman 2015). At the same time,

32  Enamul Choudhury there are disputed basins that do not have any accords. The pattern that emerges from these facts is the importance of legal and treaty regimes in securing and sustaining negotiated cooperation for TWG (Baranyai 2020a). The question of whether the cooperation instituted through legal principles, treaty regimes or compacts is fair and supports the sustainability of the environment has given rise to a different set of facts focused on securing equity and justice for various stakeholder groups. They range from the traditional sectoral users of water (agriculture, industry and municipal) to the needs of indigenous and religious communities, minorities and women, as well as the needs of various ecosystem, and can even extend through virtual water trades to encompass the needs of the expanding global economy. As a result, the meaning of effective cooperation has become complex and contested (Mirumachi 2015; Hefner 2016). Despite the contestation, one fact constitutes the necessary condition of institutional cooperation – the solution of equitable TWG has to occur within the operational arrangements of negotiated cooperation.

The metric of cooperation Measures of effective TWG rest on the outcome of the experimentation with varied forms of governance – from privatisation to partnerships, and from multi-scaled and integrated institutions to adaptive and local associations. There is no general consensus on what negotiated cooperation means or what its measures of success are. For example, metrics like the absence of escalating tensions, increase in regional cooperation, the dividend of stability that a treaty creates, having more share than before, the opportunity to negotiate equitably, reforming domestic agencies and laws to sustain treaty provisions or having multiplier effects of water cooperation paving the way for cooperation in contested areas of conflict are all examples of metric that are in use to measure the effectiveness of cooperation. However, there is no agreement (even in theory) on the right set of metrics for the design and operation of an effective institutional arrangement (Zawahri et al. 2014; Petersen-Perlman et al. 2017). Since the purpose of TWG is to overcome the scarcity of water availability resulting from its control by riparian states, the metric of effective cooperation provides the means of accounting for and increasing the availability of water, as well as predicting and reducing its variability from ongoing and projected climate change impacts (Earle et al. 2015; Dinar and Dinar 2017). Varied measures are in place to account for and increase water availability, ranging from demand to supply management strategies. Examples include the use of green water, virtual water and new water, the innovative and traditional use of conservation techniques, turning salt water into fresh water, wastewater to grey water, innovation in drip irrigation and drought or water-tolerant seeds, as well as instituting IWRM to IRBM. However, using each of these measures or a set thereof faces the challenge of adoption and adaptation in TBW governance – from the global to the local contexts.

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  33 There are other emergent facts of the metrics of TWG which are often referred to as principles. These include the argument that (1) the institutional arrangement has to be negotiated by the stakeholders, (2) the negotiation process has to allow stakeholders to represent the affected interests, and (3) the negotiated agreement must specify the processes of fair and sustainable solutions for the stakeholders involved (Susskind et al. 2000; Priscoli and Wolf 2009). As the stakes are context specific, the negotiation process and negotiated provisions have to be context specific too. Thus, the general pattern of negotiation rests on context-specific process rules, with the content and outcome of how the process works remaining contingent on the context. This fact prevents the prior specification of metrics of success, other than stating the principle itself. For example, the metric of TWG for, say, the Indus dispute will be different from that for the Ganges or Colorado because the stakes and institutional capabilities differ in the two contexts. In fact, the general failure of a wider and effective realisation of IWRM has been attributed to the contextual variations that the global metrics of IWRM faced in its implementation in varied national and local contexts (Biswas 2004). Similarly, to take another case, the effectiveness measure of the Indus treaty at present will be different from what it was in the 1960s or 1980s, due to the difference in actors, stakes and contexts. In fact, we find repeating calls for the reinterpretation of the Indus treaty (Miner et al. 2009; Sarfraz 2013). Whether reinterpretation of the treaty will address the needs of the current disputes will depend on whether the treaty provisions in terms of the process rules enable the stakeholders to secure their needs and find agreements that are considered fair by both sides (Tayia 2019; Tyagi et al. 2019). Furthermore, the nature of the process rules and the techniques of negotiated cooperation that enable such security and fairness remain a function of the constraints of time, resource, information, capability and creativity of the stakeholders involved, which further makes the measures of effectiveness contingent on the context. For example, the World Bank, which was instrumental in the initiation and formation of the Indus treaty and is also a party to it, is no longer active in its mediation effort of the current disputes, leaving the parties to engage in direct bilateral negotiation based on the provisions in the treaty. Since the efficacy of the techniques of cooperation and their measures remain contingent on the context, it is impossible to find a set of universal mechanisms (institutional rules and actions) or metrics (measures). There is not even the near prospect of finding universal laws of transboundary cooperation from which such universal metric can be devised, such as the law of profit that stands as the universal measure of business success. Thus, there are real limits on the use of facts alone to solve disputes in TWG. No matter how many facts we gather, validate and institutionalise in models, charts, graphs and maps – from satellite to GIS – they are not sufficient to resolve the disputes, even when the disputes are based on factual claims. The reason for the insufficiency lies in the simple fact that values are not facts, although the two are related.

34  Enamul Choudhury Relating values to facts is an enormously complex undertaking that requires judgement, and not more expertise. Experts cannot provide solution to the values underlying disputes, other than drawing upon their own values – for example, values like patriotism, careerism, objectivism. These values often prejudice the facts they uphold and make it difficult for experts to remain self-critical. Thus, how we forge the relation between facts and values either as a rule or principle to follow forms the crucial condition of the possibility and effectiveness of dispute resolution. What is required in the discourse on TWG is the explicit recognition of values and using them in the interpretation of facts. Thus, the resolution of TWG disputes requires the use of values that are compatible to enable a negotiation process to move forward. The kind of values that are involved in TWG are vast and varied. For example, the terms of efficiency, sustainability, planning, management control, cooperation, justice, right, sovereignty are all value terms used in TWG. Given the multiple values that inform TWG, the value that is most frequently identified as critical for the negotiated resolution of transboundary disputes is equity or fairness. Fairness In ordinary usage, the meaning of fairness refers to being reasonable. The Oxford Dictionary refers to fairness as the ‘impartial and just treatment or behavior without favoritism or discrimination’. On the other hand, equity is referred to as being ‘fair and impartial’. In ordinary usage, procedurally, the meanings of fairness, equity and justice remain synonymous, and I am also using the term ‘fairness’ in this procedural sense. Thus, the fairness principle can include providing privileged parking for the disabled, granting proportionate quotas to minorities, rationing a common pool resource according to need, or providing equal opportunity. Because the meaning of fairness depends on the context of its valuation, and the context is understood in terms of the facts involved, the discernment and perception of fairness is a matter of judgement and not a metric about the state of the world. The judgement of fairness can be based on a variety of criteria based on the perception and experience of the actors involved, but all of them involves the interpretation of facts or the relation of facts to the value of fairness – for example, the criterion of legitimacy, representation or transparency (Blatter and Ingram 2001; Schmidt 2012). In TWG, the use of fairness to design and assess water policy or negotiation over water allocation is generally referred to as a principle or ­value-based approach to policy making (Wolf 1999a; Giordano and Wolf 2001; Groenfeldt and Schmidt 2013). For example, the incorporation of the general principles of the 1997 UN Convention in treaty discourse or dispute resolution is an application of a valuation approach based on fairness (Giordano and Wolf 2001). For a long time, the values of prior use, right of expropriation, unlimited supply and efficiency have served as the dominant criteria in framing water policy decisions. However, since the 1990s,

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  35 a shift in valuation has emerged. This shift has emerged in the context of recognising the limits of natural resources, their ecological relation and the interdependence of governments. Thus, with the emergence of the governance approach to policy making, we find the long-standing valuation of efficient supply to be questioned and subordinated to the values of equity and sustainability, as well as to water being valued as a global commons or a public good (Perreault 2014; Wilder and Ingram 2018).

Fairness in TWG In TWG, there are different meanings of fairness in use: as equal share, proportional share, rights-based provision (historical and sovereign use vs. reasonable use which establishes limitations on sovereign use), impact-based provision (no significant harm to others), need-based provision, balancing need-based and right-based provision, efficient allocation (cost-benefit or market price based), compensation for lost benefits, sustainable share, recognising the right of water itself, negotiated allocation and many other situational ones (Wolf 1999a; Brown and Schmidt 2010; Groenfeldt and Schmidt 2013; Wilder and Ingram 2018). In transboundary disputes, Wolf 1999a) identified equal share and compensation for loss to be the most prevalent values in use, while arguing for the greater importance of needs based and negotiated allocation criteria. To these can be added process criterion of fairness, like reciprocity (sharing cost and benefits), value pluralism (valuation of different human and non-human needs), participation (representation of interest, human and non-human) and promise, that is, consent secured through accountable action (Wilder and Ingram 2018; Tyagi et al. 2019). The value of sustainability adds an additional criterion for judging fairness – the responsible use of water and minimising risks for the future generations (which in international law is termed as ‘reasonable use’). Example of such use includes the concept of water duty or stewardship, which involves determining the amount of water that is reasonably required to irrigate a substantial crop with careful management and without waste on a given tract of land (­Wescoat 2013). The water allocation and use decision between Jordan and Israel in the 1996 Peace Treaty rests on the operational meaning of reasonable use, which includes non-contamination of water by the upstream user.

Contextual variation of fairness Because of the complexity of governance and the ensuing contingencies that arise in the governance process, we have different meaning and application of fairness in TWG. The varied use of the value points to the fact that the meaning of fairness is not fixed but is contextual and emerges in the processes of interaction that involves making a judgement. In other words, complex processes like TWG give rise to emergent patterns of interactions

36  Enamul Choudhury that change the functioning and expectation of the stakeholders, and hence their valuation of actions and outcomes judged as fair or unfair. For example, in the United States, the criterion of prior use was accepted as fair in the initial settlement of the western lands as it secured water as a common resource for legitimate users (farming, fishing, environmental service). With changes in the political economy, more and more farms were brought under cultivation by large farms or commercial interests, leading to the transfer of prior use rights. With such transfers, water became treated as a commodity/capital to be used for profit rather than for livelihood, and hence prior use came to be seen as unfair. Later on, in order to secure environmental services and water quality, the formulation and enforcement of government regulations were also considered as fair. The shift in context (from common property to private property, and then to investment property and public good) altered the meaning of prior use, and hence the meaning of fairness. Thus, what was considered fair in one context of governance came to be considered as unfair in a changed context. How a fairness criterion or a set of fairness criteria is applied in a given context rests not only on the facts of the situation or the salience of fairness as a priori or pre-specified criterion but also on its compatibility and fitness with the facts that are considered in formulating and implementing policy action. Thus, the degree of uncertainty and variability in the multitude of contextual facts – for example, the hydrological and societal features; institutional and civic capacities; level of resource commitment; meaning of rationality (economic or social) – each subjects the meaning of fairness to be contingent on the context of a dispute. Therefore, whether planning, cost-benefit analysis, distributive or integrative negotiation process, or some combination of them provides the effective institutional means of addressing fairness will depend on how well the criterion of fairness aligns with the natural and social facts that are operating in a given dispute resolution process. This does not happen through finding and applying a causal deterministic system of governance using scientific research, but through adapting existing institutional means to the demands of dispute resolution. Such adaptation requires framing the relationship between the facts with fairness that the involved disputants find satisfactory. Frames In ordinary language, the term ‘framework’ is used more widely than ‘frame’, although the meaning remains the same. The word ‘framework’ is the act of applying a frame on a topic. The Oxford Dictionary provides the meaning of frame as ‘something that has or confers structure or constitution’. The frame can be either physical or conceptual that ‘composes or joins parts together, supports or encloses something’. In social science, the terms ‘frame’ and ‘framing’ have taken more specific conceptual meanings and methodological approaches. For example, the systematic observation of the frames used in discourse is studied under the

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  37 label of ‘frame analysis’ (in communication studies), while the subsequent effect of the frame on thought is studied as the ‘framing effect’ (in cognitive psychology), and the accounting of frames and framing effect in a particular practice is conceptualised as ‘frame reflection’ (in policy analysis). Furthermore, works on metaphor and worldviews are also included in the scope of the meaning of frame. Policy frames are not much different from framing pictures, because both function as a structural means to separate focal objects from its background. In policy practice, a frame provides the logic of explanation that establishes relationship among chosen facts and values. Frames can come in many forms – theory, philosophy, ideology, belief system, heuristic or metaphor. A policy frame thus structures the expectation (cognitive judgement) of their users about the meaning of the focal and background facts. Thus, it is in the nature of a frame that it highlights and relies on certain facts while obscuring or neglecting others. Frames, being the reason behind explanation, rarely rise to the surface in a discourse which is dominated by claims and narratives that draw support from facts affected by a frame (Schon and Rein 1994). In the context of TWG, treaty-based cooperation is widely considered as an effective frame to resolve transboundary disputes (Baranyai 2020a). However, the meaning of its effectiveness rests on the dispute resolution process that recognises, embeds and facilitates the relation of facts with fairness criteria. In so far as we act with reason, both in individual or institutional practice, frames as explanation form the basis of cooperative action. Problems of explaining cooperation arise when there are multiple frames: some that overlap; others that conflict with one another; as well as others that are left out. Each frame user find bias in others’ frame (that is, finding either facts or fairness criteria not being accounted for), yet the critic remains incapable of either offering a solution to the alleged bias or addressing and overcoming the bias that one’s own frame is charged with harboring. From legal arguments to nationalist claims, religious discourse, theories and down to heated conversations, it is the frame of explanation that is questioned. Thus, even when there is agreement on facts, disagreement over frames remains. These disagreements in turn render actions, solutions and metrics to become the subjects of continuing debates. The resolution of such debates, when they occur, often reflects political power – where a frame becomes dominant or forms alliance with other frames. Ideological agreement often functions as the political tool to affect such agreement or alliance. However, when political authority/power becomes limiting in its use, as is the case with transboundary disputes, the use of ideology or political authority does not produce any resolution of the debates and disputes. Legal, ideological and military tools can suppress or bypass disputes but do not resolve them. In this context, in practice, the tools of dispute resolution provide specific processes to express disagreements, narrow it down to relevant issues, while at the same time allowing agreements to emerge. Thus, the use of frames in dispute resolution is critical

38  Enamul Choudhury for its success. The use is not simply an art but also the outcome of the negotiation process. In the negotiation process, frames affect the incorporation of facts in decision-making. When a frame is questioned, it is done less so on the ground of the nature of reasoning it is based upon and more on the ground that it fails to account for certain facts or only accounts for them partially. For example, Schmidt (2012) identifies the frame effect of water ‘scarcity’ and ‘security’ that structures the decision-making process as being in need of critical questioning. For example, the meaning of scarcity or security does not provide a neutral depiction of the hydrological facts of water availability and dynamics. Rather, they stand for a judgement of a community of experts that highlights the meaning of water as a commodity (instead of a common good) in order to support the strategies for rational planning, water pricing or privatisation, and its control by individuals, jurisdictions or states (Bakker 2013; Perreault 2014). Frames also have a similar effect on values. This is because, in so far as frame-based reasoning guides and affects human action, the attention to and acceptance of frames rest on the choice and use of valuation criteria other than the facts on which the reasoning in the frame rests. In specific contexts of politics, how fairness is perceived in the application of a frame is how a frame of explanation continues to hold relevance or legitimacy. Thus, how well treaty regimes sustain the value of fairness in discourse and decision (both in public perception and operation) constitutes the test of its effective operation. Since frames judged as fair form the basis of policy acceptance, fair process and outcome enable dispute resolution and the legitimacy of negotiated agreements (Wolf 1999a, 2007; Gerlak et al. 2011). In TWG, unsurprisingly we find multiple overlapping and competing frames in use (Bréthaut and Pflieger 2020; Baranyai 2020a). As a result, the paths to practical resolution of a dispute become unclear. This situation in turn creates the impetus for exploring new frames that can provide better explanation of the forms of institutional action that can contribute to solving the dispute. Frames like IWRM or IRBM that link local with global action are cases in point, as are the designs of treaty regimes and RBOs. Currently, three broad frames, each with their own sub-frames, are competing to account for transboundary facts, fairness criteria and the nature of TWG. Table 2.1 outlines these frames as the (I) Conflict–Cooperation frame, (II) International Norm Formation and Global Activism frame and (III) Institutional Design of Cooperation frame.

Discussion of the three frames and their sub-frames (I) The conflict–cooperation frame This is the most relied-upon frame in the research community and has three variants: I(a) TWG is conflictual; I(b) TWG is cooperative; and I(c) Conflict and cooperation coexists in TWG.

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  39 Table 2.1  Frames in use to explain transboundary water governance Frames of Transboundary Water Governance I Conflict–Cooperation Frame I(a). TWG as Conflictual Sub-Frame I(b). TWG as Cooperative Sub-Frame I(c). TWG is both Conflictual and Cooperative Sub-Frame

II International Norm Formation and Global Activism Frame II(a). Global Norm Formation Sub-Frame II(b). Global Solidarity through Activism Sub-Frame

III Institutional Design of Cooperation Frame III(a). Institutional Cooperation Sub-Frame III(b). Negotiated Cooperation Sub-Frame

I(a): TWG as conflictual sub-frame This frame identifies a continuing trend in water conflicts and the potential of growing conflicts (Gleick and Heberger 2014; Subramanian 2019). Conflict is measured along a continuum that registers events in different degrees and forms (Wolf 1999b; Yoffe et al. 2003; Bernauer and Böhmelt 2014). Intense conflicts, labelled as basins at risk, are the ones in need of immediate solution. In this frame, TWG rests on securing one’s interest, as in a zero-sum game. The expectation it structures is that cooperation is only possible when the interests of the dominant riparian state are secured. Because riparian states are exhausting their own supplies, to meet their growing demand of water, the dominant state will use transboundary water or leverage its future use to secure other benefits from weaker states. It is this premise that frames the prediction of water wars or water becoming a scare resource similar to oil. I(b): TWG as cooperative sub-frame There are multiple explanations of forging cooperation here, with treaty based being just one of the forms of cooperation. Historically, cooperation based on national government planning of large-scale water development projects (for irrigation, dam building and municipal water supply) constituted the universal means of water governance. Over time, the form of cooperation shifted to decentralised approaches that included private and market provisions as well as provisions by local commons. There are also institutional forms that blend centralised and decentralised approaches and scales it up to the transboundary level, for example, IWRM and IRBM. These approaches to governance rest on technocratic planning by scientists

40  Enamul Choudhury and government officials with input from influential stakeholders through varied participatory forums. Despite the efforts, the effectiveness of such institutional forms of TWG have been found to be limited (Conca 2006; Huitema and Meijerink 2014; Wilder and Ingram 2018). The frame rests on the institutional capacity of government and global bodies, backed up by the hard facts of the historical pattern. Here, explanation is based on developing the scientific management of water based on the research drawn from science and social science, which seeks to structure water management as an objective process, free of politics. This is reflected in the use of optimisation models or rational models to integrate water use (IWRM) and river systems (IRBM) (Molle 2009). With the advent of the governance approach, the frame now extends to privatisation initiatives and public–private partnerships in water management that are aimed at securing the efficient allocation of water through pricing and market processes, and the use of demand management and new technology to improve water productivity. I(c): TWG is both conflictual and cooperative sub-frame This frame, commonly referred to as hydro-politics in the literature, maps out the political economy of water and critiques the way the meaning of water resource is conceived of and managed (Conca 2006; Bakker 2010). The frame is not a synthesis of the subframes of I(a) and I(b), but holds conflict and cooperation to be simultaneously present and mutually conditioning each other (Zeitoun et al. 2006; Zeitoun & Mirumachi 2008; Zeitoun et al. 2011). Hence, the frame structures the expectation to find both cooperation and conflict in different configurations and in different contexts of TWG. It also extends the scope of explanation to problem or policy sheds, rather than focusing only on the physical basin or watershed (Molle 2009; Davidson and de Löe 2014; Muller 2015). Traditionally, the concept of ‘watershed’ has been used to identify the physical boundary for water management. In this context, management involves dealing with the operation issues of water allocation and flood mitigation, which are mainly engineering-based interventions. In transboundary contexts, management solutions are increasingly failing to account for other factors that affect water policy. These factors are rooted in the policy and political dynamics of governance that often extend far beyond the watershed. In order to consider these factors, scholars use the concept of policy shed to frame the governance aspects of water management. It identifies the area ‘where multiple policies apply and have overlapping, but not identical geographical jurisdictions’ (Davidson and de Löe 2014). Hence, the scope and scale of policy implementation varies within and across a watershed. This frame also relies on an expanded understanding of social facts to include speech acts to account for actors’ intention and action, rather than rely only on objective behavior or official record (Mirumachi 2015; Williams 2019).

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  41 In terms of explanation, the frame considers that thought and action are socially constructed, and hence the meaning and measures of conflict and cooperation are interpretations of facts and fairness criteria. In terms of TWG, the frame points out that while there may be cooperation among riparian states or jurisdictions on one set of issues, at the same time there may also be active conflicts on another set of issues, and cooperation in one period may be replaced by conflict in another. Here, the wider and contingent use of scale-based analysis extends the scope of transboundary facts, bringing in view the nexus of conflict and cooperation operating at different levels. Thus, what becomes obscured or neglected at one level becomes visible and central at another (Syed and Choudhury 2018). For example, one finds a high degree of cooperation at one level (e.g. the regional, as is the case with Indus) with a high degree of conflict at the subnational or sectoral levels (e.g. provincial governments in Pakistan and states in India). In the case of the Indus dispute, the continuing use of arbitration has allowed India and Pakistan to bring new disputes to be addressed within the confines of the treaty, thereby diffusing many of the specific disputes. However, what the two countries have failed to affect so far is the resolution of their domestic TBW disputes through negotiated cooperation (i.e. water laws, policies and technologies) and their alignment with the constrains of the treaty provisions (Condon et al. 2014; Syed and Choudhury 2018). The frame provides a strong critique of the cooperative and conflictual frames based on the evidence of the cooptation of weaker stakeholders and the continuation of low-intensity conflicts. In this frame, the issue of effective governance mechanism rests on redressing the existing imbalance of political, economic and informational power in a given context, rather than allowing them to be reproduced through more refinements in the procedural mechanisms of cooperation (Zeitoun et al. 2011; Mirumachi 2015). (II): The international norm formation and global activism frame This frame explains transboundary facts in terms of the global initiatives and their success in building global norms on water provision, sharing and use. The explanation rests on normative ideals and forging solidarity though activism and service, rather than based exclusively on social scientific analysis of experts in solving water policy problems. The logic here is that to solve transboundary problems one needs to consider water as a global public good, mobilise the affected and sympathetic public around it, and use international institutions to legitimate and support the vision. II(a): Global norm formation (sub-frame) This frame rests on understanding and promoting the conception of water as a common good to be made available to all users – human and non-­ human (Wilder and Ingram 2018). A narrower view of the frame is based on advocating and securing the human rights to water, which constitutes

42  Enamul Choudhury the platform of UN and NGO initiatives to reform water governance. The United Nations has been the lead international agency in proposing and legitimising the frame through technical and financial assistance to its partners and member states. The success in instituting the human right to water and the ratification of the UN Convention on the non-navigational use of water signals the emergence of international norms of TWG. The UN, with active support to and from INGOs and NGOs in various regions of the world, have given rise to a pattern of forging transformational agendas of water access and management (Milman and Gerlak 2020). These include the universal availability of and access to safe water and sanitation for all, particularly in poor countries; the empowerment of women by providing water access to rural hinterlands and urban slums; and the dissemination of education and low-cost technologies to purify water and prevent water contamination. These transboundary facts were first embodied in the MDG (most of whose water goals were met by 2015, except sanitation), and now continuing in the SDG (Wilder and Ingram, 2018). However, on-the-ground implementation of goals have lagged behind their incorporation in national legislations (Gerlak and Wilder 2012; Perreault 2014). Nevertheless, such formal ratification makes the recognition of global rights and norms the enabling conditions of TWG. II(b): Global solidarity through activism sub-frame A key difference of this frame from that of global norm formation lies in incorporating more contextual facts (variety of ways of knowing and use of symbolic values) and scales (a variety of environmental and empowerment networks) in forging global norms, instead of relying only on the UN to enable transboundary meaning and action (Lejano et al. 2013). Thus, in concert with and parallel to the UN efforts, there are efforts of global and regional networks like the WWC and GWP, particularly on water sustainability and equity. The Rio summit is often considered a benchmark event for the INGOs and NGOs to find recognition as active partners in governance (Conca 2006). The widespread incorporation of SDG goals in national water policy and in NGO mission statements attests to the efficacy of solidarity in shaping TWG. There are also numerous local, national, regional and international NGOs that are active in representing the needs of neglected and marginalised populations in terms of their water rights, needs and values, mainly of the indigenous communities, caste groups or ethnic minorities (Sultana and Loftus 2012). Their vigilance, voice and activism are forging regional and global solidarity on water issues. The nature of their NGO activism and solidarity, however, varies by context, as is the case with different arrangements of managing water as a common-pool resource. Thus, the human rights approach provides an effective basis for NGOs to mobilise the poor, but such mobilisation often dissipates without altering the governance process currently in place (Bakker 2010, 2013; Wilder and Ingram 2018).

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  43 (III): The institutional design of cooperation frame Unlike the global focus of the first two frames (discussed under frame II), the expectation here is to secure policy cooperation on specific watersheds. This is because the history, culture, resources and capacity of governance arrangements vary in terms of the context of water disputes and the regional history of the basin. Here, two approaches of framing are in place: the first seeks to identify the causal mechanism that secures effective institutional cooperation – the III(a) sub-frame, while the second relies on the enabling processes of negotiated cooperation – the III(b) sub-frame. Both consider treaty regimes and their respective river basin organisations or commissions as the instrument of cooperation. The main difference between the two is that while the first approach seeks to specify the institutional design in causal terms, the second sees it as an outcome of negotiation. III(a): Institutional cooperation sub-frame This frame relies on social scientific methods of observation to draw inference. The explanation of TWG here rests on understanding complexity in terms of the large number of variables that carry different values under different contexts and conditions of their functioning. It views TWG as complex because of the multiple and overlapping institutions that exercise influence in the agenda-setting, decision-making and policy implementation process (Huitema and Meijerink 2009; Ostrom 2010; Huitema and Meijerink 2014). The explanation of managing complexity rests on reducing it to a level where analytical methods can secure generalisation and some degree of predictive control. Such reductionist frame allows for model building along the lines of specifying the ideal type of TWG from which deviations are measured to explain degrees of institutional effectiveness (Zawahri et al. 2014). In this frame, the logic of explanation rests on discerning the parameters and variables for the effective design and operation of institutional arrangements of TWG (Dinar 2008; Schmeier 2013; Hefner 2016). Here, institutional cooperation is framed in terms of hybrid modes of collaborative governance – co-management by RBOS, government entities, partnerships and community groups (Lemos and Agrawal 2006; Bakker 2010). In such governance arrangements, costs, benefits and risks are shared, and innovative local solutions are developed for adoption as best-practices. The use of game theory is often used to identify the leverage points and timing of side payments and mutually beneficial payoffs for designing cooperative solutions (Dinar 2008). Among academic researchers, this frame also explores the causal variables and mechanisms that underlie effective institutional design of TWG (Bernauer 2002; Dinar 2008; Dinar and Dinar 2017). Because of the causal logic that underpins the frame, the nature of institutional cooperation is explored and explained in terms of specifying the conditions that predict

44  Enamul Choudhury cooperation (e.g. the formation of a treaty) and its effective operation. Hence, the frame is global in its scope of generalisation and application. However, this global scope is segmented in terms of contextual patterns of TWG: for example, boundary-creating vs. boundary-crossing rivers or bilateral vs. multilateral treaty regimes (Gleditsch et al. 2006; Dinar 2008; Zawahri et al. 2014). III(b): Negotiated cooperation sub-frame The explanation underlying this frame conceives of complexity in conceptually specific terms - non-linear evolutionary dynamics and emergent properties that are not reducible to the properties of its components. The frame draws from complexity theory to understand the contextual dynamics of socio-ecological systems, where interactions at one point of time leads to emergent properties, which in turn leads to a different pattern of interactions based upon feedback from the components and their environment. Hence, the system is characterised by uncertainty and unpredictability (­Gunderson and Holling 2002; Islam and Susskind 2013; Choudhury and Islam 2019). Therefore, the explanation of cooperation rests on the process rules of dispute resolution and their creative applications, like finding options for resolving disputes from what is possible in relation to the facts and values of the dispute. For example, water availability in a socio-­ecological system considers not only legal rights and institutional capacities but also the use of virtual (Allan 2003), blue, green and grey water (­Falkenmark and ­Rockstrom 2006; Tian et.al. 2020). Unlike the global frames that rest upon idealism, activism or causal modelling, in this frame there is no fact or value that is held constant across all contexts. This is due to the uncertainty and variability of climatic, physical and social attributes, as well as the variation in the nature of social capital, past experience and current institutional capacity that affect TWG. Therefore, the frame holds that what is possible in one governance context is not possible in another, depending on the events that unfold. For example, Wilder and Ingram point that rules and institutions adopted to better ensure equity for disempowered groups in times past, such as the irrigation reform movement in the U.S. in the early twentieth century, became enshrined as ‘rights’ which later functioned as a barrier to other equity-seeking reforms in later periods. In a similar way, in RBOs, new networks emerge over time that challenge existing rules and power relations (Wilder and Ingram 2018). The complexity frame allows for the inclusion and consideration of multiple meanings, values and knowledge as they become embodied in stakeholder engagement in the negotiation process. Since changes in circumstance and interests can be renegotiated or resolved through the dispute resolution process or provisions in a treaty, agreements or solutions can be reconsidered over time, leading to their resolution. Hence, the implementation regime of a treaty is understood as an open and adaptive process. Because

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  45 complex processes are evolutionary, the creation of relationships for negotiated cooperation extends beyond jurisdictional boundaries (geographic, economic, racial and social). This allows for nurturing formal and informal networks to serve as the means of feedback from the affected stakeholders. The emergence of such network takes a very long time to positively affect negotiation. However, when such network formation is neglected, emergent processes arise to block the paths of negotiated cooperation. How does the consideration of frames add clarity in understanding and explaining the problems of TWG? In other words, how do the frames and sub-frames narrated here help beside offering a summative map of a research domain? The argument of the chapter is based on two responses to these questions. The first argument is that the mapped-out frames, no matter how legitimate, do not provide solution to the disputes that arise in TWG. They only provide clarity and legitimacy to the initial standpoints of the stakeholders or riparian positions. The second argument is that the frames provide the basis of relating a set of facts with a set of focal values. Such relation holds the principle ground of resolving disputes through a process of negotiation that does the relating in specific contexts. The very context of dispute resolution provides opportunities as well as constraints on the actors for aligning facts, frames and fairness criteria. The more inclusive the process of negotiated cooperation, the more it is possible for such alignment to be considered fit for dispute resolution. The function of fitness through aligning fact, frame and fairness Negotiated cooperation has been the main tool in TWG. However, which form of negotiated cooperation offers the most effective means of dispute resolution is contingent on the complexity of the facts, contestation of the frames and contingency of fairness criteria discussed in the previous three sections. Alignment is the process of finding the contextual fit involving the facts, frames and fairness criteria in use. Hence, alignment rests on the intentions and constraints of the institutional actors and their capabilities that are available at a particular time and place. A succinct meaning of alignment is conveyed by Wilder and Ingram (2018) when they note, ‘normative (fairness) and factual knowledge (facts) are not separated in narratives (frames)’ (p. 14, italics added). However, it does not follow that any fairness criterion is compatible with any frame or a set of facts. As Wilder and Ingram (2018) note, ‘treating water as an economic good is fundamentally inconsistent with the other principles of sustainability such as decentralization, participation, and local stewardship’ (p. 3). Thus, each component in the fact–frame–fairness alignment needs to be seen in relation to each other, and hence contingent on the functional, adaptive, constrained and creative options that are available in the negotiation process. Understanding TWG as a complex process provides an inclusive scope to explore the alignment of contextually relevant facts, frame and

46  Enamul Choudhury fairness through negotiation. In fact, the negotiation process itself signals such an inclusive approach to negotiated governance, as disputants see their relationship as interdependent. In the emerging models of governance, following a democratic process (deliberative and collaborative) accounts for the contextual alignment of the facts, frames and fairness involved in TWG. A democratic process is not simply the clash of interests, but also the critical engagement of interests, the embodiment or taking responsibility for the interests and providing public reason for its valuation. In TWG, negotiated cooperation is an extension of the democratic process but in the limited context of the stakeholders involved in a dispute. Thus, for dispute resolution to be considered fair requires a negotiation process through which fairness principles become facts by way of framing their meaning and use by the disputants. Dispute resolution promises no more fairness than this outcome. This limitation of the scope of dispute resolution is an important frame for assessing the effectiveness of institutional means of negotiated cooperation. This is because the limitation arises from what is possible in terms of aligning facts, frames and fairness that is acceptable to the disputants, and not in terms of any universal model or standard of resolution. Thus, success of a particular dispute resolution may not alter the meaning and status of either fairness or frames at the broader country or global level. This constitutes one reason why dispute resolution is different from conflict resolution, and this circumspection needs to be kept in mind in structuring the expectation from and use of negotiated dispute resolution. Integrative negotiation is widely held both as an effective frame and a fair process to account for transboundary facts. This requires the negotiation process to remain grounded in the frames and fairness criteria of the stakeholders involved. However, such grounding cannot occur automatically and requires enabling processes in which applicable principles like benefits, loss or risks can be shared and externality costs can be absorbed or compensated (Dinar 2008; Islam & Susskind 2013; Dinar and Dinar 2017). Furthermore, because the distribution of power and information as well as forms of participation and accountability of the stakeholders vary by context, fairness crucially rests on the enabling processes of conflict resolution (Zeitoun & Mirumachi 2008; Zeitoun et al. 2011; Earle et al. 2010). The logic of fitting facts, frames and fairness The alignment of the facts with fairness criteria through frames is not a matter of random or contrived combination, but requires contextual and historical accounting of their relation. In other words, it is a matter of ascertaining how existing frames of TWG provide us with the contextual means of fitness. Among the frames mapped in this chapter, not all frames provide for alignment. Therefore, we need to know which ones do, which ones do not, and then explore the enabling conditions for the ones that do.

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  47 In the first frame (I, Conflict–Cooperation), the logic of explanation is positive and causal. Hence, other than the accuracy of facts, there is no external value like fairness that enters in assessing the validity of the frame – irrespective of whether transboundary issues are framed as conflictual I(a) or cooperative I(b). The logic leads one to predict the inevitability of either perpetual and escalating conflicts (water wars) or strategic cooperation in a dispute (water cooperation). In this frame, since there does not exist any causal model of fairness, it is not possible to ascertain whether the outcome of institutional cooperation is fair or not. Only in the conflict and cooperation subframe I(c) does fairness enter as a social construct to assess the effectiveness of TWG. In this frame, fairness is judged in political terms – that is, in terms of securing the requisite processes of representation and participation of the affected and weaker groups in the institutional decision-making process. At this stage, it overlaps with the frame of building solidarity through activism subframe II(b). Thus, the meaning of fairness in this frame is not fixed but progressive – that is, it expands with the expansion of the democratic process of stakeholder participation. In the second frame (II, International Norm-Global Activism), fairness is a central value in assessing the effectiveness of cooperation as well as for understanding the very nature of transboundary issues. This is underscored by the valuation of transboundary water as a global good and understanding the global community as its trustee – sub-frame II(a). In this frame, fairness as a global criterion is conveyed in legal and cultural terms of basic human rights, duties to others and empowerment. From this common platform, there is nevertheless a difference in emphasis between the expectation under the global norm sub-frame II(a) and the solidarity and activism subframe II(b). The frame of solidarity and activism sub-frame II(b) relies on welfare and empowerment criteria and is focused on contextual outcomes – both in terms of participatory processes and water provision, rather than inputs (the recognition of rights in national laws and its operational translation in policy), which is central in the global norm building sub-frame II(a). Thus, the use of pareto-optimal criterion, cost–benefit ratio, adequate compensation to losers, subsidy to those who are incapable to assert their legal rights – all serve as criteria of fairness based on the context and nature of the dispute. In the third frame (III, Institutional–Negotiated Cooperation), the judgement of fairness varies. In the institutional cooperation sub-frame III(a), fairness is viewed as an external criterion, for example, in a policy like the EU Water Framework Directive. Here, how the broad criterion of fairness aligns with local facts and contingencies depends on expert adjudication and adjustment, rather than on negotiation. In contrast, the negotiated cooperation sub-frame III(b) views fairness criterion as a negotiated outcome, and hence its meaning depends primarily on the participants in the negotiation process, and its alignment with the frames and facts used in the dispute resolution process. Here, the meaning of fairness is mutually

48  Enamul Choudhury agreed to in negotiation, taking the capacities and constraints of the disputants into account. Here, the judgement of fair agreement rests not only on the terms of the agreement, but also extends to the methods by which the terms are arrived and agreed to. Thus, the consideration of fairness is not rendered after the fact, but is embodied in the dispute resolution process. As long as the negotiation process is considered legitimate, representative, accountable, the negotiated agreement is also considered as fair by the disputants and the public. For example, in a treaty, one side may lose an amount of water it may otherwise control, but by accepting the loss it may gain on other fronts, like lower trade restrictions for its goods in the downstream riparian. The exchange is uneven in quantity, but the outcome is deemed fair. In this frame, unless each side agrees to the meaning of fairness and the mechanisms through which the meaning can be concretised, they will have difficulty in winning public acceptance by aligning the meaning with the prevalent meaning of fairness in their respective political cultures. Such acts of alignment call for creativity and planning to affect fairness through framing, and not just the passive use of fixed metrics or indicators, that is, the dissemination of facts. This seems to have occurred with the water provisions in the 1996 Peace Treaty between Israel and Jordan. The ambiguity of the treaty provisions allowed Israel to make water provisions to Jordan that would not have been possible had the treaty provisions been clear. The ambiguous language used in some provisions created confusion but also provided flexibility to address the changed needs and constraints of the parties (Fischhendler 2008). Similarly, the use of creative marketing to sell the treaty to the Jordanian public facilitated the acceptance of the treaty as fair (Astorino-Courtois 2015).

Enabling processes for putting the logic of alignment fitness into practical action Integrative negotiation processes under sub-frame III(b) enable the alignment of facts, frames and fairness in a specific context of dispute resolution. Based on the comparative study of the Indus and Jordan river dispute resolution, three such enabling processes are proposed here for further inquiry. (This proposal draws heavily from Choudhury & Islam 2015; Choudhury 2017; Choudhury & Islam 2019.) I: Active recognition of interdependency as an enabling process Active recognition of interdependence means that the disputing sides (e.g. countries, sectors, stakeholders) recognise their mutual water needs, domestic constraints and capacity of water management. This can occur through a variety of actions including:

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  49 • Acknowledge publicly or in executive meeting their interdependence on the scope of the problem. This involves recognising the water needs of the other side, including needs for ecological services. • Align the applicability of international law to the prevailing customary laws. • Recognise the projections of water variability that climate change may cause to both. • Accept a third-party mediator or intermediary or agree to initiate mediation through such mediation. II. Mutual value creation as an enabling process Value creation process rests on what each side can add to the existing resource to satisfy their respective needs. On the other hand, mutual gain focuses on what each side can gain from cooperation by sharing the existing resource. Both can be facilitated through acting on: • A mutually agreed mechanism for joint fact finding and data sharing which not only operationalises interdependence on a focal issue but also provides transparency. • Addressing water as a flexible resource. For example, satisfying water needs through virtual trade, water import, water conservation, water production, coordinated use of multiple sources of water. • Breaking down the issues in manageable parts and identifying strategic areas of cooperation. • Considering both tangible (which the mutual gain approach does) and intangible values: building better relations, affirming shared cultural values or forging regional integration by way of linking issues and making trade-offs. III. Adaptive learning and management as an enabling process This condition involves processes for developing institutional capacity to act on the negotiated agreement in adaptive ways. This may include action to: • Continue to make improvements in monitoring capacity through updated data collection protocols and data-sharing arrangements. • Have a legal framework for exercising the authority and expertise of the treaty implementation commission, and integrating the varied water management institutions within each country or jurisdiction. • Rely on conflict resolution mechanisms that are specified in the agreement to build confidence on the viability of continuous cooperation as well as use those mechanisms as a means to adapt and advance the scope of the agreement. • Expand networked relations with agency and civil society counterparts.

50  Enamul Choudhury

Conclusion In the effort to understand and identify the effective tools of TWG, one encounters the complexity of facts, fairness and frames of reasoning that are generally considered separately or pursued in terms of the domain expertise and interest of the actors involved. Thus, the technical expert tends to focus exclusively on facts, the politician on fairness issues, and the advocates and critics on frames of explanation. No matter how accurate and sophisticated each is in their respective claims, the understanding and resolution of complex TWG disputes require the contextually relevant alignment of facts, fairness and frames. Due to the operation of multiple scales, sectors and identities within which disputed issues arise and their respective stakeholders are embedded, fluid, fuzzy, overlapping and changeable boundary conditions characterise transboundary disputes. Thus, in TWG, there are multiple set of facts, fairness criteria and frames of explanation either brought to bear on the conflict or remain embedded in the claims made by the contesting parties. In such context, dispute is a natural outcome rather than the continuing intransigence of one party or another. This is also why the transboundary nature of disputes does not allow for easy agreement on facts, frames or fairness that are involved in a dispute. Without such agreement, it is impossible to even begin to identify a set of reliable variables to track and test the means of effective institutional cooperation for resolving a dispute. Almost any data that can be considered and used as reliable are of past events. Real-time data often remain inaccessible due to their control by sovereign authorities, and when they are provided, they may be used as a strategic ploy by the disclosing party or viewed to be so by the opposing party. Thus, having a fixed meaning of facts and fairness in the initial conditions that the disputants hold is not possible. This condition explains why rational agreement remains absent in a transboundary context of dispute. Furthermore, due to the inherent complexity of the negotiation process, it is also impossible to use causal models to align facts, frames and fairness in the dispute resolution process. Instead of searching for a causal model of TWG, a more practical path lies in identifying the patterns of possible cooperation in a given transboundary dispute. This requires focusing on disputes that can be documented by facts and addressed in terms of fairness criteria, rather than dealing with the broad and contested narratives of the conflict. Without such narrowing, as of yet, we do not know of any means of aligning the contested meanings of facts, fairness and frames. Pattern here constitutes the set of actions and interactions that enable the disputants to find alignment by themselves or through a mediator. Hence, effective dispute resolution depends on identifying and nurturing the enabling conditions for aligning facts, frames and fairness to the satisfaction of the disputants. Among the frames considered, the negotiated cooperation subframe III(b) offers the most contextually inclusive path for instituting the enabling

Negotiated resolution of transboundary water disputes  51 processes for resolving transboundary disputes. It does so by retaining the capacity of the negotiation process to address and incorporate the facts in the conflict–cooperation nexus sub-frame I(c) and in the global norm-­ building sub-frame II(a). In a given context of dispute, negotiated cooperation offers possible paths of dispute resolution that are contingent on the conditions. Therefore, crafting an alignment of facts, frames and fairness depends on the use of enabling processes that draws on the capacity and creativity of the agents to address transboundary facts with the criteria of fairness in resolving a dispute.

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3 From lukewarm to meaningful Understanding and transforming transboundary water cooperation in the Indian subcontinent Gauri Noolkar-Oak South Asia consists of eight nations – Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, India, Maldives, Nepal, Pakistan and Sri Lanka – and is home to 1.67 ­billion people (The World Bank n.d.). It covers an area of 4.48 million km2. The most prominent feature of South Asia is the Himalayas. The highest and youngest mountains of the world, they run 2,400 kms across Bhutan, Nepal, India, Pakistan and part of Afghanistan. They hold the highest concentration of glaciers outside the polar regions, which feed into some of the mightiest rivers of Asia, giving the Himalayas the sobriquet ‘Water Towers of Asia’ (BBC Future 2014). The three biggest rivers of South Asia – Indus, Ganga and Brahmaputra – originate in the Himalayas. The two basins (Indus and Ganga-­BrahmaputraMeghna) together cover more than 2,800,000 km2 or 63 per cent of South Asia. They are spread across seven countries, namely Afghanistan, Pakistan, India, China, Nepal, Bangladesh and Bhutan, and are home to almost a billion people (Aquastat 2011a,b; Golam 2014) (Table 3.1). These rivers are indeed the backbone of agriculture, food security and economy of the region, but beyond their utility value, they are also important elements of the culture, ethos and lifestyles of their riparians. Preserving them and harnessing them for growth and development require an approach which takes cognizance of their all-pervasive nature. However, this kind of approach is absent in transboundary water cooperation in South Asia. Transboundary water dynamics in South Asia conform to the key findings of a comprehensive study carried out at Oregon State University: that instances of water cooperation outweigh those of water conflicts (Wolf et al. 2005). However, at the same time, they have not been able to deliver comprehensive benefits to either of the riparians, rendering transboundary water cooperation lukewarm and rather ineffective in South Asia. The chapter chooses three South Asian water cooperation treaties – the Indus Waters Treaty of 1960, the Ganga Treaty of 1996 and the draft Teesta Treaty, waiting to be signed – and assesses them on the parameters of comprehensiveness, inclusivity (in terms of developmental aspects and stakeholders) and building of trust and cooperation between the signatories.

From lukewarm to meaningful  57 Table 3.1  Statistics of the Indus and GBM River Basins Indus River Basin (Total Area = 1,120,000 km2) Country

Basin Area (km2)

% of total area of basin

% of total area of country

Pakistan India China Afghanistan

520,000 440,000 88,000 72,000

47 39 8 6

65 14 1 11

GBM River Basin (Total Area = 1,712,700 km2) Country

Basin Area (km2)

% of basin in country

% of country in basin

India China Nepal Bangladesh Bhutan

1,102,000 304,400 147,500 120,400 38,400

64 18 8 7 3

33 3 100 83 100

Source: Aquastat, FAO, UN.

The importance of probing into the nature of transboundary water cooperation in South Asia lies in the fact that almost two-thirds of the region lies in transboundary river basins. Further, South Asian countries are essentially agrarian with a large proportion of the population directly and/or indirectly dependent on agriculture for their livelihoods, now experiencing rapid population growth and urbanisation. The combined result is an increased demand for water. The region supports more than a fifth of humanity but has access to just over 8 per cent of global water resources (Surie 2015); this not only puts enormous strain on local water resources but also intensifies competition over accessing, allocating and controlling them. South Asia experiences monsoon climate, with precipitation occurring only for a certain period (typically June to September) during the year. Throughout the rest of the year, during dry months, glacial melt (in Himalayan river basins) and groundwater are the major sources of water. This natural phenomenon automatically restricts the availability of water in dry months. Climate change effects leading to erratic and inconsistent monsoons and high-intensity rainfall in less geographical space and shorter time period further intensify the variations in annual water availability, which directly impact agriculture, food security and economic stability. Such a complex scenario calls for judicious planning of allocation, use and conservation of water across geographies and sectors, with an all-­ encompassing approach. Treaties, signed at the highest level, are expected to reflect the intention of signatory parties towards carrying out this kind

58  Gauri Noolkar-Oak of planning and execution jointly, and hence can provide an insight into the nature of cooperation established between them. Specifically, three treaties have been selected for scrutiny. The Indus Waters Treaty is selected because it is signed by two arch-rivals (India and Pakistan), has survived three wars between them, and is hailed internationally as a successful example of water cooperation. The Ganga Water Sharing Treaty is selected because it is signed between two friendly countries (India and Bangladesh) but has not been able to produce any comprehensive benefits for either and meets with considerable discontent in both countries. The draft Teesta Waters Treaty has been selected because of the very provisions of the treaty, and the failure of the Teesta negotiations despite the willingness of governments of both India and Bangladesh to sign the treaty. Through critical analysis, the chapter suggests that these treaties have been shaped by geopolitics, and not the actual need of sharing, developing and conserving the water resources, in the region. South Asia is one of the least integrated regions in the world (The World Bank). Bilateral relations between South Asian nations are civil at best, and a general sense of mistrust prevails in the neighbourhood, the most extreme case being the enmity between India and Pakistan. Moreover, India is the largest country, economy and military power of South Asia. Given that India lies at the heart of South Asian economy, politics and culture, other, much smaller South Asian nations are wary of India’s ‘big brother’ influence. The geopolitical dynamics ensuing out of these unintegrated, distrustful relations impact all other areas of human development and civilisation in the subcontinent, and transboundary water dynamics are no exception. The chapter takes a pragmatic view of these geopolitical factors and attempts to explore how India, a middle riparian state and South Asia’s leading power, can leverage them to establish meaningful water cooperation in the region. In the following sections, it introduces and analyses the Indus Waters Treaty, the Ganga Treaty, and the draft of the Teesta Treaty. The section that follows those takes an overview of observations and analyses from the preceding sections and provides recommendations for improving transboundary cooperation within the region. These recommendations are specially geared towards India, given its power and position in the subcontinent.

Indus waters treaty, 1960 The Indus River Basin The Indus River is one of the most important rivers of the Indian subcontinent. The Indus originates near the Mansarovar Lake in Tibet, China, and flows for 3,200 km through the Indian state of Jammu & Kashmir and the Pakistani provinces of Punjab and Sindh before emptying into the Arabian Sea near Karachi, Pakistan. Its main tributaries are the Ravi, Beas, Chenab, Jhelum, Sutlej and Kabul. Except Kabul, the other five tributaries (the Beas, through Sutlej) flow in from India and join the Indus in Pakistan.

From lukewarm to meaningful  59 The region through which they flow is known as the Punjab (i.e ‘land of five rivers’) and is one of the most fertile regions of the world. The Kabul originates in Afghanistan and joins the Indus in Pakistan. The upper parts of the Indus basin are characterised by the snow-clad Himalayan and ­Karakoram mountains and steep valleys. The central parts consist of flat, widespread alluvial plains. The lower parts are coastal, and here the Indus forms the world’s fifth-largest delta measuring 472,800 hectares as it meets the ­Arabian Sea (RSIS n.d.). India’s earliest civilisation dating back five millennia is called the Indus valley civilisation due to the principal role of the river in its sustenance and prosperity. The Indus Basin has supported irrigated agriculture for centuries. While there were water-sharing issues within riparian regions during the British rule (Wolf & Newton 2008), the dispute acquired international dimensions when the subcontinent, and consequently the Indus Basin and its irrigation systems, were partitioned in 1947 into India and Pakistan. The partition made Indus the principal river of the then West Pakistan, which became a downstream riparian to the Indus and its principal tributaries that (except the Kabul) flowed down from an upstream neighbour with whom Pakistan had hostile relations. The Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) of 1960 When a temporary agreement between the two countries expired on 1 April 1948, India cut off the waters of the Sutlej and Ravi to irrigation canals in Pakistan for a month (Wolf & Newton 2008). This created panic in Pakistan and led to the commencement of negotiations between India and Pakistan on sharing the waters of the Indus Basin. After a decade of negotiations and mediation by the World Bank, India and Pakistan signed the Indus Waters Treaty (IWT) in 1960. After 1971, the Indus Basin became the largest river basin of Pakistan. It covers 65 per cent of Pakistani territory (Aquastat 2011c) and lies at the heart of its history, geography and economy. On the Indian side, the Indus river Basin includes the western states of Jammu & Kashmir, Himachal Pradesh, Punjab, Haryana, Rajasthan and Gujarat. Jammu & Kashmir is a politically contested state between India and Pakistan. Punjab and Haryana are the leaders of India’s agricultural revolution, Himachal Pradesh and Rajasthan are major tourist hubs, and Gujarat is a leading state in terms of economy in India. Thus, the Indus Basin holds great significance in India as well. The IWT divides the Indus River and its five eastern tributaries for use between India and Pakistan (MEA, GoI 1960). The Beas, Ravi and Sutlej are termed as the Eastern Rivers (Article II) and are designated for the exclusive use of India. The Indus, Jhelum and Chenab are termed as the Western Rivers (Article III) and are designated for the exclusive use of Pakistan, with exceptions regarding domestic, non-consumptive and limited agricultural and hydropower uses by India. In Article IV, the IWT specifies that these

60  Gauri Noolkar-Oak uses will be ‘so made as not to materially change, on account of such use, the flow in any channel’, that India will not store any water it uses from the Western Rivers, and that any flood control actions will ‘avoid, as far as practicable, any material damage to the other Party’. At the time of signing, Article II of the IWT granted Pakistan a ten-year transition period between 1960 and 1970 during which Pakistan continued to receive water from the Eastern (along with Western) Rivers based on a schedule prepared accordingly. Further, according to Article V of the IWT, India provided a sum of 62 million GBP as a contribution to Pakistan’s efforts of developing a new irrigation system on the Western Rivers. Under Article VI, both countries agreed to regularly exchange data regarding the flows of rivers, releases from reservoirs and other hydrological data related to the Basin. The IWT also established the Permanent Indus Commission (Article VIII), consisting of two Commissioners of Indus Waters, one from each country. The two commissioners constitute the initial level of the dispute resolution mechanism outlined in Article IX of the treaty; they examine and resolve any questions or queries pertaining to interpretation on implementation of the treaty. In the case of a dispute, there is a provision to appoint a ‘neutral expert’, not belonging to either of the countries, to resolve the ­dispute. In the next stage, negotiations take place in the presence of mutually approved mediators, failing which the dispute may then elevate to a Court of Arbitration. Article VII provides for ‘Future Cooperation’ in hydrological and meteorological observation stations, drainage works and engineering works. Analysis The comprehensiveness of the dispute resolution mechanism takes into cognizance the deep mistrust and hostile relations between the two signatories and prioritises prevention of any possible transboundary water conflicts in the Indus River Basin. However, in its endeavour to prevent ‘water wars’ between India and Pakistan, the IWT ends up further partitioning the Indus River Basin. Its emphasis on ‘coexistence’ supersedes any push for Indo– Pakistani collaboration on managing and developing the Indus River and its tributaries in an integrated, basin-wide manner. In ‘Cooperation’, there is no mention of cooperation over river conservation, environmental protection, groundwater management and basin-wide economic development, especially of river-related sectors such as fisheries, navigation and tourism. While environmental issues and climate change impacts were not mainstream concepts at the time the IWT was signed, there was no effort to revise the IWT and include them in subsequent years. The IWT also does not take cognizance of the rich and unique wildlife and biodiversity of the Indus River Basin, including the iconic Indus river dolphin, endangered due to loss of habitat because of multiple dams and irrigations projects constructed in the Indus River Basin.

From lukewarm to meaningful  61 Limiting cooperation over the Indus to technical/technological aspects can have dire consequences. The Indus River Basin is among the ten international river basins most vulnerable to climate change. Inflows to the basin are predicted to fall by 27 per cent by 2050 as more than 400 glaciers feeding into the basin’s rivers have already shrunk to 80 per cent of their original size and continue to shrink at an alarming rate. This is steadily intensifying the cycle of droughts and floods in the region and is highly likely to reduce groundwater recharge. Together, these occurrences indicate that the Indus River Basin is already being affected by climate change (Sharma et al. 2010). Their impacts on agriculture, drinking water availability, economy and overall social fabric of the region can be disastrous if not mitigated in a systematic and timely manner. Further, the majority of the population in the Indus River Basin is highly rural and agricultural, and characterised by poverty (Sharma et al. 2010). They are directly or indirectly dependent on the rivers, their water and their surrounding ecosystems for livelihoods. In order to ensure the sustainability of their livelihoods and to make the population more resilient to climate change, it is essential that river basin development and conservation feature prominently in the countries’ economic plans. This requires a basin-wide approach which transcends politics and political boundaries and takes a holistic view of the natural resources of the entire basin. The IWT neither prioritises basin-wide economic development nor advocates a holistic approach. Also, the IWT is a bilateral agreement between India and Pakistan, and does not include China and Afghanistan, other riparian countries in the Indus River Basin. India has separate agreements with China over sharing hydrological data of the Sutlej River, which originates in Tibet. Pakistan has no agreement with Afghanistan on the Kabul River, of which Afghanistan is the upstream riparian. Effectively, the IWT covers 85 per cent (Babel & Wahid 2008), not the entire Indus River Basin. One reason for this is that at the time of signing, the principal and, indeed, the only conflicting riparians were India and Pakistan. Subsequent years saw an increase in the geopolitical importance of the other two riparians as well as in the need for integrated river basin management. However, Afghanistan’s proximity to India and friction with Pakistan, and China’s proximity to Pakistan and frictions with India have led to complicated relations in the basin. As a result, chances of all four riparians working jointly for the development of the basin are slim for now. It is evident that the prevailing geopolitical equation (or lack thereof) between India and Pakistan set the tone and shaped the contents of the IWT. The river itself is clearly on the back burner here. Not only have the economic and environmental aspects of river basin cooperation being shelved, but also the cultural and religious values of the Indus have been ignored. The latter is a particularly significant point in light of the centrality of religion and cultural values in the overall ethos of South Asia, and especially in the creation of India and Pakistan.

62  Gauri Noolkar-Oak The inadequacies of the IWT are manifest in the fact that immediately following the signing of the treaty, and for decades now, India and Pakistan have been locked in disputes over multiple Indian projects on the Western rivers. The Tulbul Navigation Project was conceptualised by India in 1984, but it had to suspend its construction in 1987 (Yasir 2016) when Pakistan raised objections. Negotiations, resumed in 2006, went on despite militants bombing the site in 2012 (Yasir 2016), but after the Uri attacks in 2016, India has resolved to complete the project despite Pakistan’s opposition (Sehgal 2019). The 330-MW Kishanganga project was approved by the Permanent Court of Arbitration (PCA), The Hague, with certain modifications which India agreed to adhere to (Sehgal 2018). The thus modified project was inaugurated by Indian PM Narendra Modi in May 2018 (Bhaskar 2018). The construction of the Ratle project is ongoing and is expected to accelerate post the removal of Article 370 (Sen 2019). Pakistan also objects to three other projects – the 1,000-MW Pakuldul project on Chenab and the 120-MW Miyar and 43-MW Lower Kalnai projects on tributaries of the Chenab – which India is currently constructing speedily in the Indus River Basin. These projects are important to India and worrisome to Pakistan for a multitude of reasons. In the Indian context, they are an important step towards addressing the grievances of its citizens in Jammu & Kashmir, which is home to headwaters of the Indus River. Internationally, J&K sits squarely at the centre of India–Pakistan hostilities. Domestically, successive Indian governments have struggled to integrate the people of J&K with the rest of the country. Among issues related to economic opportunities and development, the state holds the IWT particularly responsible for its lack of sufficient access to the waters of the Western Rivers flowing through its territory and resultant power shortages in the state (Mallick 2016). All the currently disputed hydroelectric projects are located in J&K and are an indispensable part of India’s strategy to integrate J&K into mainstream society and economy. As the downstream riparian highly dependent on the waters of the Indus Basin, Pakistan is worried about effects of these upstream projects on their own projects, not to mention agriculture, and claims that upstream Indian projects make Pakistani projects, most notably the Neelum-Jhelum Project (NJP) in PoK, less viable (Ahmad 2018). Yet, the entire course and basis of these disputes have been dominated by geopolitics. For India, the projects are a way to assert its dominance over Indus waters, which it has not been able to utilise to the full potential prescribed in the IWT (Kartha 2018). Domestic public pressures are high on Pakistani government as well, since Pakistan is facing an increasingly acute water crisis at the national level. Traditionally, Pakistan has blamed India for its water woes (Faraz 2014). Although over the past few years many within the country have started acknowledging the mismanagement and inefficiency of Pakistan’s own water distribution systems as significantly

From lukewarm to meaningful  63 responsible (Wheeler 2011), this does not alter the reality of India in control of the headwaters of Pakistan’s primary source of surface water, and hence Pakistan’s persistent paranoia of India’s upstream hydropower projects. Furthermore, the decades-long deadlock over these projects was broken by two significant geopolitical events in the Indus river basin: the Uri attacks in 2016; and the removal of Article 370 which was responsible for the special status of Jammu & Kashmir in 2019. Domestic politics over waters of the Indus Basin, both in India and ­Pakistan, further sensitivise the sharing of water between the two countries. The dispute over water sharing and allocation between Punjab and Sindh, both now in Pakistan, dates to the British colonial rule. The Indian states of Punjab, Haryana, Rajasthan and Jammu & Kashmir are disputing on similar issues in the Ravi, Beas and Sutlej sub-basins. Both countries have been unsuccessful at dealing with these domestic disputes so far, and central governments time and again have blamed the other riparian for the limited availability of water on their side. Political actors and media on both sides have at times side-tracked realistic reasons such as water use inefficiency, mismanagement of irrigation systems, climate change effects and inefficient demand management, and instead used the IWT and bilateral hostilities between India and Pakistan in view of short-term vested interests (­Kugelman 2016; Singh 2017). Despite these drawbacks, the IWT is hailed globally as an example of successful transboundary water cooperation. It has survived three wars between India and Pakistan and resolved a number of disputes arising over the shared basin through the outlined resolution mechanism, but time and again, geopolitical tensions between India and Pakistan have affected the functioning of the treaty. For example, after Uri attacks in 2016, India temporarily suspended its participation in the meetings of the Permanent Indus Commission (Malhotra 2017), and after Pulwama attacks in 2019, it closed the taps on extra water from the Eastern rivers flowing into Pakistan (Business Today 2019). However, in both cases, the treaty was neither violated nor revised, and even during periods of no communication, the prescribed amount of water has continued to flow into Pakistan.

Ganga Water Sharing Treaty, 1996 The Ganga River Basin The Ganga is the longest and the biggest (Aquastat 2011a) river in India. It is also the most important, and holds a prominent position in popular Indian culture, mythology, Hinduism and the Indian consciousness since times immemorial. The Ganga originates at Gomukh from the Gangotri Glacier in the Indian state of Uttarakhand and flows for 2,525 km through the states of Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Jharkhand and West Bengal (WRIS, GoI 2018). At Farakka in West Bengal, it splits into the Hooghly River and the Padma River. The former drains into the Bay of Bengal through the

64  Gauri Noolkar-Oak Sunderbans on the Indian side. The latter enters Bangladesh, joins the Brahmaputra and then the Meghana, and forms the Ganga Delta (also known as Ganga–Brahmaputra Delta) as it empties into the Bay of Bengal. The Ganga Delta, with the area of 59,000 km2, is the largest delta in the world (Parua 2010). The main tributaries of the Ganga River are Yamuna, Son, Ramganga, Ghagra, Gandak, Kosi and Mahananda. The Ganga River Basin is spread across four countries – India, Nepal, Bangladesh and a minor part of Tibet in China. Nepal, the upstream riparian of Ghagra (Karnali in Nepal), Gandak and Kosi rivers, lies entirely in the Ganga River Basin. Within India, the Ganga River Basin covers the states of Rajasthan, Madhya Pradesh, Haryana, Himachal Pradesh, U.T. of Delhi, Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, Jharkhand and West Bengal, amounting to 26 per cent of the country’s total territory (WRIS, GoI 2018). The upper parts of the Ganga River Basin are characterised by the tall and snow-clad Himalayas and steep valleys. The central part, known as the Great Plains, is one of the most fertile and intensely cultivated regions of the world. The lower parts of the Ganga River Basin are characterised by the river’s distributaries and the extensive Ganga delta. The Ganga River Basin is the world’s most populous river basin, with 356.8 million people living in the Indian part of the basin alone (MoWR GoI 2005). The basin generates 40 per cent of India’s GDP and more than a third of its surface water (The World Bank 2015), 90 per cent of which is used for irrigation. Combined with the Brahmaputra and Meghana Basins, the Ganga–Brahmaputra–Meghana basin together hosts 630 million people, and the largest number of poor people in the world (Aquastat 2011a). Despite sharing the Ganga Basin with Bangladesh and Nepal, India has not signed any trilateral treaty on sharing the river. Instead, it has signed agreements separately with the other two riparians. With Nepal, the upstream riparian, India has signed agreements on the Kosi (1954, revised in 1996), Gandak (1964) and Mahakali (1991 and 1996) rivers. With Bangladesh, India formed the Indo-Bangladeshi Joint Rivers Commission with the aim to govern the fifty-four transboundary rivers, including the Ganga, shared by the two riparians. India and Bangladesh signed the Ganga Waters Treaty in 1996. The Ganga Water Sharing Treaty 1996 The first dispute over sharing the Ganga arose in 1951 (Roy and Robie 1997) between India and the then East Pakistan when India started constructing the Farakka Barrage in West Bengal. This barrage was built with the intention of diverting more of the Ganga’s flow to the Hooghly distributary in order to flush out the silt which was accumulating at the port of Kolkata and adversely affecting its economic viability. The Farakka barrage threatened to reduce the flow of the Ganga/Padma in East Pakistan and damage its agriculture. Alarmed officials from East Pakistan commenced

From lukewarm to meaningful  65 negotiations on working out a water-sharing agreement with their Indian counterparts. In 1972, after the creation of Bangladesh, India and Bangladesh formed the Indo-Bangladeshi Joint Rivers Commission (JRC) for ‘working together in harnessing the rivers common to both the countries for the benefit of the peoples of the two countries’. However, until the treaty was signed in 1996, the JRC focused almost entirely on the Ganga River. The Farakka Barrage started operating in 1975 (WRIS, GoI 2014), and in 1977 India and Bangladesh entered an interim five-year agreement over sharing the Ganga (United Nations Treaty Series 1977). The agreement (­Article II) determined the share of water for each of the riparian to be obtained at Farakka Barrage and guaranteed Bangladesh a minimum amount (80 per cent of its original share) during lean flows. Articles IV–VII set up a Joint Committee to observe and record the daily flows at F ­ arakka Barrage and Hardinge Bridge, submit reports, execute the agreement and resolve disputes regarding the sharing of Ganga waters at Farakka. Article VII particularly laid out a dispute resolution mechanism based on arbitration. The agreement recognised that the crux of the problem was augmenting the flow of the Ganga during lean season, and accordingly, it directed the JRC to study the issue and find an ‘economic and feasible’ solution (Article IX) in three years. However, the agreement could not solve the basic issue of sharing Ganga waters during the lean season, and consequently, it was not renewed when it expired in 1982 (Rahaman 2006). Instead India and Bangladesh signed two MoUs between 1982 and 1988 for sharing dry season flows. However, neither of them included the minimum guarantee clause (Rahaman 2006). India continued to unilaterally divert waters at Farakka. Additionally, an increase in withdrawals upstream of the Farakka due to intensification in agriculture in Uttar Pradesh and Bihar further reduced dry season flows to the Farakka and to Bangladesh. This period saw frosty relations between India and Bangladesh; while Bangladeshis felt exploited at the hands of ‘big brother’ India, Indians felt that Bangladesh’s stand was rather rigid and unreasonable. The adverse impact of unilateral diversions on crops and overall economy of Bangladesh embittered the Bangladeshis to the point that they began blaming India and particularly the Farakka Barrage for any and all water-related problems in the country. Indians found this to be very unfair. Further, the climate within India was also not very amiable towards the existing arrangement, as riparian states within India resented the fact that they were not taken into consideration during bilateral talks with Bangladesh (NIH Roorkee n.d.). Bangladesh took the matter to the UN General Assembly, meeting of Commonwealth Heads of Governments and the South Asian Association of Regional Cooperation (SAARC) Summit, but these moves did not yield any results. In 1992, negotiations began afresh, and in 1996, the governments of India and Bangladesh signed the Ganga Water Sharing Treaty (GWST) (MoWR,

66  Gauri Noolkar-Oak GoI 1996). Valid until 2026, the GWST gives a detailed outline and schedule for sharing Ganga’s waters at the Farakka Barrage. It does not include a ‘minimum guarantee’ clause for Bangladesh but states that if the flow of the Ganga at Farakka falls below 70,000 cusecs (cubic foot per second), then both India and Bangladesh will get half the water available. The GWST recognises ‘the need to cooperate with each other in finding a solution to the long-term problem of augmenting the flows of the Ganga/Ganges during the dry season’ (Article VIII) and urges India, the upstream riparian, to make ‘every effort … to protect flows of water at Farakka’ (Article II). However, unlike the 1977 agreement, it does not direct the JRC or any relevant authority to undertake studies to find a solution to this problem. Article XI anticipates the future impacts of this problem and states that in the case both riparians do not agree on a certain quantum of flows, ‘India shall release downstream of Farakka Barrage, water at a rate not less than 90% (ninety percent) of Bangladesh’s share according to the formula referred to in Article II, until such time as mutually agreed flows are decided upon’. Through this provision the treaty essentially prioritises avoiding water conflicts between India and Bangladesh over solving the problem of lean flows during dry season. The GWST provides for the formation of a Joint Committee (Article IV) with similar functions as those mentioned in the 1977 agreement. It also outlines a dispute resolution mechanism (Article VII) but omits any mention of an arbitration mechanism and does not make it imperative to resolve the dispute in a time-bound manner (Rahaman 2006). Article X of the GWST makes a provision for reviewing the treaty. Analysis While the treaty goes into details of sharing Ganga waters, i.e. the immediate problem at hand, it does not address the fact that future demands on both sides of the border will not be met by this amount of water. Despite widespread poverty in the basin, it does not push for basin-wide economic growth through harnessing the (almost perennial) basin’s waters and ecosystems for developing sectors such as fisheries, navigation and eco-­tourism, which are non-consumptive but financially lucrative uses of water. The GWST also does not take cognizance of climate change which is highly likely to cause adverse impacts on the flows of the main river and its tributaries, despite the global adoption of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) in 1992. It does not take cognizance of the rich and unique biodiversity of the Ganga River Basin, especially the iconic Ganga river dolphin, endangered due to loss of habitat because of multiple dams and large irrigation projects built across the basin, and makes no provision for wildlife and biodiversity conservation. The groundwater aquifers of the entire Ganga River Basin contain arsenic, a natural contaminant which can cause serious harm to the human body. The level of arsenic in the aquifers of the Ganga River Basin is 3,000

From lukewarm to meaningful  67 times greater than the safety level set by the World Health Organisation (WHO) for drinking water (Chakraborti et al. 2018). This is an extremely serious issue with disastrous impacts on public health, economy and future generations in the riparian countries. However, there is no mention of groundwater aquifers and their joint management, let alone the issue of arsenic contamination, its effects on public health and its mitigation, in the GWST. The GWST is severely limited; it addresses little beyond water sharing between the two riparians. For a complex, heavily populated, impoverished and disaster-prone region such as the Ganga River Basin, such a narrow approach towards transboundary water cooperation can amplify developmental challenges as well as create new ones. The Ganga River as well as many of the major tributaries are fed by Himalayan glaciers, and are very sensitive and vulnerable to climatic shifts, experiencing growing seasonal temperature and abrupt variations in the intensity of and occurrence in rainfall across the basin (Tripathi et al. 2017). Droughts and floods in the Ganga River Basin have become increasingly regular and intense, causing huge losses of agriculture, economy and human lives. Not tackling these issues can have serious repercussions in terms of economy, law and order, and national security. Further, even though the Ganga River Basin spreads over India, Bangladesh, Nepal and a part of Tibet in China, only India and Bangladesh have signed the GWST. While the area of China under the Ganga River Basin is relatively minor, one cannot brush aside the fact that the other riparian, Nepal, with a population of almost 30 million, lies completely in the Ganga River Basin. The GWST does not accommodate this reality. Instead, India has signed separate, techno-centric treaties on the Gandaki, Mahakali and Kosi rivers (all three ultimately join the Ganga) with Nepal. Thus, India’s traditional preference for bilateral relations with all its neighbours is manifest in this arrangement as well. No two neighbours of India share borders with each other, and given its size, power and influence in the region, India has been able to pursue its policy of bilateralism in a steadfast, unopposed manner. India’s preference for bilateralism stems largely out of its concerns about retaining its hold on its neighbourhood, checking Chinese influence in South Asia, and the resultant ability to react, sometimes coercively, whenever either of its neighbouring nations is perceived to act outside its influence (Mishra 2019). This approach has superseded the region’s need for collective discussions and actions in all spheres of development, including transboundary water cooperation. While Afghanistan’s instability and China’s equally firm bilateral approach can perhaps seem to explain the bilateral nature of the IWT, there is no compelling reason other than India’s geopolitical aims in its neighbourhood that explains the absence of Nepal’s participation in the GWST. The operation of the Farakka Barrage lies at the heart of the GWST, yet it continues to be a thorn in the side of India–Bangladesh relations. Within India, it is a matter of dispute between the states of Bihar and West Bengal,

68  Gauri Noolkar-Oak which has only grown over the past few years. The Chief Minister of Bihar has opposed the Farakka Barrage and asked for its decommissioning (Ghosh 2020), blaming it for heavy siltation of the Ganga River upstream and devastating floods in Bihar almost every year. The state of West Bengal insists on the continued operation of the barrage for flushing out the increasingly silting Kolkata port and maintaining its economic activities. India’s continuing use of the Farakka Barrage again has economic and geopolitical reasons. The Kolkata port which it flushes plays an important role in India’s maritime economy; in 2018–2019 alone, it handled 63.76 million tonnes of traffic, the highest ever in its history, and more than 800,000 containers carrying almost 14 million tonnes of cargo (­Rakshit 2020). Kolkata is crucial for eastern and north-eastern India, as the eastern coast is not as indentured as the western coast, which limits the occurrence of natural ports and harbours on the eastern coast. It is also important for the landlocked countries of Nepal and Bhutan as a gateway to the maritime routes in the Bay of Bengal; no wonder a third of Nepal’s total foreign trade passes through Kolkata (Acharya 2018). Kolkata is also strategically located in the Bay of Bengal region, connecting South Asia to South-east Asia. Kolkata is the capital of the state of West Bengal, which is significant in terms of geopolitics and economics. It shares international borders with three countries (Nepal, Bhutan, Bangladesh), is in proximity to China, connects north-eastern states to the rest of India through the Siliguri Corridor and contributes 40 per cent of the GDP of North-East and Eastern India, and 79 per cent and 82 per cent of the national production of jute and tea, respectively (PTI 2016). West Bengal is thus positioned to play a big role in addressing the lagging economy and development of India’s East and North-East as compared to its West. In light of India’s concerns regarding internal security in West Bengal and North-East and Chinese aggression in Arunachal Pradesh, development in the eastern half of the country and in West Bengal assumes significance. Further, West Bengal’s political parties have wielded considerable influence at the centre in general and in the case of the GWST in particular: Mr. Jyoti Basu, the then Chief Minister of West Bengal, is said to have played an active and pivotal role in the fruition of the Ganga negotiations, while the state Finance Minister, Mr. Ashim Dasgupta, is said to have worked out the procedure-related details of the GWST. All these factors lend West Bengal considerable weight in Ganga-related – or indeed, all relevant ­bilateral – matters. As seen in the case of the IWT, the impact of geopolitics, and even geo-economics, is evident in the GWST. The bilateral nature of the treaty as well as the case for Farakka Barrage, both within India and within India– Bangladesh transboundary cooperation, are backed by India’s geopolitical aims and equations in its eastern hemisphere. The GWST is due to be renewed in 2026. Conditions on both sides of the border have changed drastically since the signing of the GWST in 1996.

From lukewarm to meaningful  69 Issues of poverty and development, groundwater deterioration and climate change impacts have reached the level at which they can alter the very geopolitical equations and intentions which have shaped the treaty. Therefore, the renewed treaty must incorporate and address the changed scenarios, increased challenges and the need for a comprehensive, holistic and effective treaty, on not only sharing but jointly developing the Ganga River Basin in a sustainable and efficient manner.

Teesta draft agreement The Teesta River Basin The Teesta River Basin is a sub-basin of the Brahmaputra–Meghana River Basin. Among the fifty-four rivers shared by India and Bangladesh, the Teesta is the fourth largest (Strategic Foresight Group 2013). It originates at Tso Lamo, India, and flows for 414 km through the states of Sikkim and West Bengal in India and the Rangpur division in Bangladesh before pouring into the Brahmaputra River at Chilmari, Bangladesh. The total area of the Teesta River Basin is 12,159 km2 out of which 2,004 km2 or about 17 per cent is in Bangladesh and the rest is in India. Within India, 6,930 km2 or 86 per cent of the basin lies in Sikkim; in fact, it drains almost the entire state (Strategic Foresight Group 2013). The Teesta is one of the major right-bank tributaries of the Brahmaputra River. Among its own tributaries, the Rangit and Rangpo rivers are the major ones. The upper Teesta Basin is characterised by tall, snow-clad mountains of the Himalayas, steep verdant valleys, and innumerable rivulets and streams feeding into the river. The central parts of the basin are part of the Bengal plains, flat and fertile, where the river spreads out and flows in braided channel. In the lower part of the basin, the Teesta splits into distributaries, and ultimately merges with the Brahmaputra. The Teesta River Basin supports 30 million people, of which roughly 70 per cent are located in Bangladesh. While the actual number of Bangladeshis living in the Teesta River Basin is 9.5 million, the absence of any major river to the west of the Teesta in northern Bangladesh means that more than 21 million people in the country are dependent directly or indirectly on the Teesta River for livelihood (Prasai & Surie 2013). More than 75 per cent of the population is rural and characterised by low level of economic activity, poverty, malnutrition, illiteracy and unemployment and an overall low Human Development Index (HDI) score on both sides of the border (Strategic Foresight Group 2013). As with the Ganga, the basic issue is sharing Teesta’s waters during the lean season. The Teesta experiences extreme variability in its annual flows; over 90 per cent of the flow occurs in the rainy season from June to September while the remaining 10 per cent occurs in the remaining eight months (Strategic Foresight Group 2013). The flow of the Teesta River is further reduced by a series of dams constructed unilaterally by India (­Mondal & Islam 2017). These dams induce and intensify the cycle of droughts

70  Gauri Noolkar-Oak and floods in northern Bangladesh, adversely impacting its economy and environment. The draft Teesta Waters Treaty Up until the Partition in 1947, the Teesta flowed as a single unit through the then princely state of Sikkim and the province of Bengal, both in British India. During Partition, the All India Muslim League asked for ­Jalpaiguri and Darjeeling districts to be incorporated into East Pakistan on the grounds that they were the catchment areas of the Teesta. The rationale was that with the entire middle and lower Teesta basin under one political entity, i.e. East Pakistan, they would be in a better position to use the erstwhile and future hydropower projects. However, mainly due to their predominantly non-Muslim populations, Darjeeling and Jalpaiguri were handed over to India (Ranjan 2017). During the 1950s and 1960s, disputes over sharing Teesta’s waters surfaced, and discussions between Indian and East Pakistani officials commenced. At the same time, India and Pakistan were negotiating agreements on the Ganga and Indus rivers, due to which the Teesta issue took a back seat. After the creation of Bangladesh in 1971, the two countries formed the Indo-Bangladeshi Joint Rivers Commission (JRC) and resumed talks over sharing the Ganga, Teesta and other fifty-two rivers shared by them. Meanwhile, Sikkim became a protectorate of India and merged with the latter as a state in 1975, establishing India’s status as the upper riparian over the Teesta. The JRC did little about the Teesta or other transboundary rivers in its first twenty-five years of existence. Talks on the Teesta played second fiddle to the negotiations on the Ganga Water Sharing Treaty till it was finally signed in 1996. In 1983, India and Bangladesh signed an ad hoc agreement during the 25th meeting of the JRC to share the waters of the Teesta in the following manner: 39 per cent of the total flow of the river for India, 36 per cent for Bangladesh and the remaining 25 per cent unallocated, to be decided on the basis of scientific studies carried out in the future (Strategic Foresight Group 2013). In 2007, the Government of West Bengal declared that it could concede at most 25 per cent of the water available at Gajaldoba barrage for both Bangladesh as well as the river ecosystem itself. Bangladesh vehemently opposed West Bengal’s stand, and since then the dispute over equitable sharing of the Teesta intensified. New Delhi, not wanting to antagonise either Dhaka or Kolkata, suggested modifying the ad hoc agreement of 1983 and dividing the 25 per cent between the two countries so that India and Bangladesh get 52 per cent and 48 per cent of the total flow of the Teesta, respectively (Rudra 2017). In an attempt to pacify both contenders, the Government of India completely ignored the health, or rather the very existence, of the Teesta and the survival of its ecosystems. With 100 per cent of the Teesta’s waters being used by the two countries, there was no chance of the river and its ecosystems

From lukewarm to meaningful  71 surviving and sustaining her 30-million-strong riparian population. It would also mean a severe setback to fishing, tourism and navigational activities in the river, creating a deep dent in the rural economy of the Teesta basin. Such a proposal was not only short-sighted and narrow-minded but also self-­destructive. Fortunately, it did not materialise. In 2010, the JRC conducted a field visit to the Teesta River and held its 37th meeting in Dhaka with the specific agenda of determining the sharing of Teesta waters and preparing a draft agreement accordingly. In the 37th meeting of the JRC, the Government of Bangladesh reiterated a Teesta sharing arrangement it had proposed some years ago, specifically for the lean season. This arrangement, which allocated 40 per cent of the Teesta’s flow to each country and the remaining 20 per cent to minimum flows, was finalised as the core of the Teesta Waters Treaty (Strategic Foresight Group 2013). The prime ministers of India and Bangladesh were set to meet in Dhaka in September 2011 to sign the Teesta Waters Treaty. However, the Indian delegation had to cancel the trip at the last minute as Chief Minister of West Bengal withdrew support to the signing of the Teesta Waters Treaty, citing it as unfair to farmers of northern West Bengal. As a result, the talks between New Delhi and Dhaka fell apart and the agreement was not signed (­Sahgal and Dasgupta 2011). The Bangladeshis were greatly upset, but on the Indian side, the coalition government at the centre depended on the support of the ruling party of West Bengal, and hence the former had no choice but to accept the stand of the latter. In the past seven years, despite change of government at the centre, steadfast support of Bangladesh on the part of India in economic and security issues, and growth in overall Indo–Bangladeshi cooperation, the unsigned Teesta Waters Treaty remains a thorn in Indo–Bangladeshi relations. The publicly available draft of the Teesta Waters Treaty (TWT) (MoWR 2010) bears an overall resemblance to the GWST, with some significant differences. The draft TWT allocates 40 per cent of the total available flow of the Teesta to India, 40 per cent to Bangladesh and keeps aside 20 per cent of the flow as ‘share of river’, i.e. for maintaining environmental flows during the lean season. Article II does not explicitly mention a ‘minimum guarantee clause’, but it directs India to provide a minimum of 80 per cent of the water amounts specified for Bangladesh (Annexure II) during reduced flows/lean season. In a significant departure from the GWST, the draft TWT also directs both riparian countries ‘to ensure compliance with the jointly agreed quality and standards of the waters’ which have been set out in Annexure III. Article III provides for a Joint Committee similar to that under the GWST, to observe and record flows of the Teesta, submit the data and annual reports to both governments, execute the agreement and resolve disputes regarding the sharing of Teesta waters. The dispute resolution mechanism outlined in the draft TWT (Article X) is similar to that devised in the Indus River Basin. It provides for arbitration through a Fact-finding Commission or submission of the dispute to the International Court of Justice.

72  Gauri Noolkar-Oak As in the GWST, the draft TWT also recognises the importance of finding a solution to sharing waters of the Teesta during the dry/lean season (Article VII). However, it makes no provision for deriving the solution. Article VIII of the draft TWT makes a provision for reviewing the treaty. Analysis The draft TWT is a classic example of a well-intentioned action not taken to its full length, and thus falling short of delivering results. Like the IWT and GWST, the draft TWT is primarily focused on preventing conflicts, not fostering transboundary cooperation and basin-wide development. It has certain elements which signal a more holistic approach, but they are truncated before they fully address the issue. One of the most significant of such elements is the requirement to meet water quality standards outlined in Annexure III. While this is a positive step, the importance of maintaining quality is not extended to the riverine ecosystem. Also, the draft TWT does not go into details of how cooperation on maintaining the river’s quality can be achieved. The allocation of 20 per cent of the water to the river is another unique feature of the draft TWT; neither the GWST nor the IWT has any provision which addresses the crucial aspect of maintaining a minimum quantity of flows in the river all year round for maintaining the health of the river basin and its ecosystems. However, the draft TWT stops at specifying minimum flows. It does not venture into riverine ecosystem conservation, or the development of economic sectors such as fisheries, navigation and eco-tourism which are heavily dependent on environmental flows. In fact, despite high occurrence of poverty in the entire Teesta River Basin, the draft TWT makes no connection between a river system’s economic value and alleviation of poverty, let alone its environmental conservation. Despite heavy floods and intense droughts occurring in the Teesta River Basin on a regular basis, the treaty makes no provisions for disaster mitigation either. It also does not acknowledge climate change effects, and the need to make local riparians climate and disaster resilient, nor does it provide for restoring and protecting the rich and unique biodiversity of the basin. Groundwater aquifers in the Teesta River Basin are also not acknowledged. While the draft TWT makes provisions for ensuring quality in surface water, it does not tackle the serious issue of arsenic pollution of the basin’s groundwater. Reduction of Teesta’s flows downstream have increased groundwater abstractions especially in Bangladesh, underlining the need to cooperate jointly on abstraction, use and conservation of the shared groundwater aquifers. However, the draft TWT is of no help in this regard. That governments of both India and Bangladesh were ready to finalise and sign the treaty drafted in such a manner is a clear indication that there are other political and geo-strategic interests at play.

From lukewarm to meaningful  73 As a downstream riparian, Bangladesh is keen to secure an optimal amount of the Teesta’s waters for the development of its most backward division, as well as harness the agricultural capacity of the Teesta basin for augmenting its food security. The issue of Teesta’s waters also strikes an emotional chord within the Bangladeshi people and plays an important role in shaping the government’s public image as not only responsible and effective, but also capable of looking India in the eye and securing its interests. While it did not become a point of contention during the 2018 national elections in Bangladesh (Haider 2018), the pending Teesta treaty continues to dominate India–Bangladesh engagement at the highest levels (FP Staff 2019). India on the other side recognises the geopolitical importance of Bangladesh, from connecting India to its north-eastern states and fighting terrorism in South Asia to providing strategic connect to South-East Asia in pursuance of its ‘Act East’ policy, and is anxious to retain the friendship of Bangladesh’s current, secular Awami League government. Thus, both governments look at signing the TWT as a way of achieving their political and geo-strategic goals. The failure of the Teesta negotiations is also rooted in politics and has strong domestic dimensions, especially on the Indian side of the border. West Bengal’s opposition to the draft TWT has halted any progress on the issue. The geopolitical and economic strengths of West Bengal (as mentioned in the analysis of the GWST) give it considerable power over determining the outcome of the Teesta sharing issue. In 2011, West Bengal’s position in the entire issue was strengthened by the fact that the ruling political party of West Bengal, the All India Trinamool Congress, was also the largest ally of the coalition government, UPA-II, in the centre. Even though it is not a part of the current NDA government, the Bhartiya Janata Party (BJP), the largest party at the centre, has set its eyes on the upcoming West Bengal legislative assembly elections in early 2021, and is wary of signing the TWT at this point, as it would impact their electoral prospects in the state. While West Bengal is taking an active role in protecting its interests, the involvement of Sikkim, the uppermost riparian, is negligible in resolving the dispute. Sikkim’s dams control the headwaters of the Teesta, and any effective solution to augmenting Teesta’s flows in the dry season would have to factor them into the equation. However, Sikkim’s abundant hydropower potential promises to meet a large proportion of India’s energy needs (Kolås et al. 2000), and hence India has no intention of decommissioning those projects in order to augment flows to West Bengal and eventually to Bangladesh. These are important geopolitical and economic realities which supersede actual river-related issues in the context of the draft TWT, and there is little reason why this status quo should not continue to prevail as and when a more acceptable draft of the TWT is prepared and eventually signed. In the case the draft is not changed (i.e. improved), the inadequacies of the provisions will be apparent then as they are now. However, with clear

74  Gauri Noolkar-Oak prioritisation to geopolitical equations in the entire arrangement, there might not be a drastic change. Of course, one can always hope that with the increasingly dire circumstances under intensifying climate change effects, growing population and water scarcity, the revised and signed TWT would be more accommodative of real and comprehensive measures for effective transboundary water cooperation, but with no concrete progress or timeline estimates on the issue, no specific conclusion can be drawn at present.

Conclusions and recommendations On critical analysis of these three treaties, one can see that broadly, they exhibit the following common shortcomings. Steadfastly bilateral – Although the Indus and GBM river basins are shared by three or more countries, treaties over their transboundary water boundaries are bilateral. This fact, at the onset, limits the scope of transboundary water cooperation. Techno-centric and limited in scope – By and large, the three analysed treaties limit themselves to quantitative sharing of water, broad management of hydropower generation and irrigation, data exchange for flood control, regulatory bodies with limited mandate and dispute resolution mechanisms for resolving any issues within the scope of the treaties. They are technical in nature and do not address socio-­ economic, cultural and environmental dimensions – such as, but not limited to, impact of growing population and urbanisation on water, water scarcity and resultant community conflicts, gender dynamics, heritage and biodiversity conservation, groundwater management, climate change impacts and environmental degradation – of the river basin. Non-inclusive, state-centric – The process of formulating, negotiating, finalising and executing the treaties is dominated by the state, with little scope for participation of local stakeholder communities. As such, the treaties do not sufficiently reflect the needs and concerns of local riparian communities. This inadequacy of the treaties and their disconnect from ground reality is manifested in the developmental issues of local riparian communities, as well as the occasional tensions and frictions among them, within and across basins. The analysis shows that the treaties are more a product of geopolitics of the subcontinent than of any pressing need felt for meaningful transboundary water cooperation. Mutual distrust rooted in history, border disputes and India’s overshadowing presence in the subcontinent, as well as overall lack of regional integration, are dominant features of South Asian geopolitics which are manifest in South Asian transboundary water cooperation as well.

From lukewarm to meaningful  75 Operational treaties such as the IWT and GWST are inadequate, with unaddressed gaps, and have seen no efforts at review and updating (despite the provision) in light of emerging challenges in the river basins. The comparatively recent draft of TWT contains some progressive elements such as provision for minimum environmental flows and minimum water quality requirements; however, it falls short of effectively addressing larger issues in the Teesta river basin. None of the treaties have been (re)equipped to address the socio-economic and environmental challenges which are now deemed as the global challenges of the twenty-first century. The fact that these three treaties are the major and comparatively more comprehensive water cooperation treaties in the South Asian neighbourhood underlines the half-hearted approach of India and her neighbouring nations to the subject. Treaties between India and Nepal and India and ­Bhutan are more of a techno-centric nature, focused heavily on hydropower generation (primarily to satisfy Indian needs) and with little attention to other aspects of transboundary water cooperation (MEA, GoI 2017), (International Rivers 2019. Conventionally, upstream riparians have a geographical advantage which allows them to not bother with downstream requirements, especially if they are hegemons (Lowi 1993). However, despite being the clear leading power of South Asia, India has engaged in comparatively more comprehensive transboundary cooperation as an upstream riparian (with Pakistan and Bangladesh) than as a downstream riparian (with Nepal and Bhutan). This can be significantly attributed to the fact that India’s relations with Pakistan and Bangladesh experience more friction and volatility than do its relations with Nepal and Bhutan. The results, then, are mixed. For one, South Asia does not experience any ‘water wars’ in its neighbourhood. The IWT has survived three full-fledged wars between India and Pakistan, and continues to be upheld, despite plenty of rhetoric, in times of bilateral tensions and hostilities between the two countries. The ineffectiveness of the GWST and the failure of the Teesta negotiations have not been able to thwart cooperation between India and Bangladesh in fields ranging from education and culture, to electricity and maritime activities, to combating terrorism. However, at the same time, the three river basins in question – Indus, Ganga and Teesta – continue to cause occasional bickering between the riparians and various internal stakeholders of the river basins. The rivers continue to suffer from over-exploitation, misuse and neglect, while local riparians grapple with economic and developmental issues, natural disasters and climate change effects. The magnanimity of these challenges is evident in the fact that a total of approximately 610 million people (or 36 per cent of South Asia’s total population) living in these basins face them as of today. With rapid growth in population and urbanisation, increasing severity of climate change effects and resultant intensification of water scarcity, these challenges pose increasing risks to the welfare of local riparian communities, and overall harmony and security in the region. In a business-as-usual

76  Gauri Noolkar-Oak scenario, armed water conflicts or even water wars cannot be ruled out in the foreseeable future. The need of the hour is undoubtedly a thorough review and improvement of the existing cooperation mechanisms to make them more comprehensive, holistic and effective. This is easier said and done – for one, it requires not only a certain level of consistent trust between co-riparians but also high political will at all levels of governments, which, though desirable, is not pragmatic to expect in the current political atmosphere of the subcontinent. India considers itself the leader of South Asia in all aspects; with leadership comes the responsibility of initiating meaningful transboundary cooperation in, inter alia, sharing and development of water resources in the region. As the regional leading power, India must take the following steps and establish meaningful and mutually beneficial transboundary water cooperation in its neighbourhood. i) Recognise its developmental interests in establishing multilateral transboundary water cooperation in South Asia: As a middle riparian region in South Asia, India must realise that it will not have a position of absolute hydro-hegemony/dominance, like China and Turkey, for example. India’s position of power in South Asia is connected to its economic size and progress, which in turn is deeply connected to its rivers, many of which are transboundary in nature. India, then, is dependent on its co-riparian neighbours, both upstream and downstream, for the overall health of and sustainable economic growth in its river basins and, by extension, its overall economy.   It is crucial that India recognises, not just in letter but also in spirit, the direct connection between collective development of transboundary water resources and tangible, monetisable benefits to the economy. For a truly basin-wide approach, it must shed its penchant for bilateralism and adopt a multilateral outlook; this would not only bring all-around development and consequent stability to the river basins but also reduce the mutual distrust and India’s hegemonic perception among other South Asian nations and consolidate India’s relations with them. ii) Hydro-diplomacy to counter Chinese influence in South Asia: Through initiatives like the CPEC (China–Pakistan Economic Corridor) with Pakistan, the Hambantota Port deal in July 2017 with Sri Lanka and multiple partnerships, including collaboration over the Maritime Silk Road with Maldives (Noolkar-Oak 2018), China is swooping down on South Asia with its political and economic prowess, challenging India in its own sphere of influence. India can leverage its democracy, secularism and non-expansionist image, but that would not be enough; it needs an innovative tool like hydro-diplomacy which is non-autocratic, non-aggressive and multilateral but at the same time conducive to India’s natural leadership by vesting India with soft power.   It must be noted that while South Asian nations are aware of China’s hard techniques, they hesitate in turning to India as a viable

From lukewarm to meaningful  77 contender to China due to China’s economic and technological superiority and India’s struggle with the non-aggressive, pacifist identity it has conventionally propagated at the global level and the formidable world power it aspires to be. Through well-articulated, assertive, well-rounded and multilateral hydro-diplomacy, India has a strong chance to re-establish and retain its natural dominance in its neighbourhood. iii) Leverage cultural/religious connections with co-riparians: Like India, other South Asian nations too are essentially river valley civilisations with significant proportion of cultural, religious and social life tied to rivers. Though diverse, a strong undercurrent of common cultural ethos runs through South Asia. Through effective use of soft power and soft diplomacy, India should leverage this commonness and use it to build primary trust among South Asian nations and sustain it through the processes of establishing multilateral transboundary water cooperation. The objectively measurable benefits of the shared cultural ethos around rivers, such as fostering of the tourism industry, for example, can and must be brought to the forefront for building and sustaining a spirit of cooperation among South Asian nations. iv) Revive the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC): SAARC is essentially mired in the hostilities between India and Pakistan and is greatly limited in its deliverance of all-around prosperity and cooperation in the region. As the strongest nation in SAARC, it is up to India to shake off the cobwebs and get SAARC to spearhead establishment of comprehensive transboundary water cooperation in South Asia. In the near future, India need not undermine its geopolitical priorities; the initiative can begin in the GBM Basin with Nepal, Bhutan and Bangladesh. However, it is essential that a pan-region mechanism like SAARC have space and resources such as funds, personnel, research and policy making, as well as dispute resolution mechanisms, dedicated specifically for transboundary water cooperation.   An example South Asia can loosely borrow from is the South African Development Community (SADC), which deals with research and legislative aspects, infrastructure development and joint management of fifteen transboundary river basins shared by twelve of its member-states (SADC 2012). v) Initiate creation of an international support group to guide establishment of transboundary water cooperation in South Asia: Contrary to popular belief, successful examples of comprehensive transboundary cooperation can be found beyond Europe and North America, in the developing world. South Asia has ample examples to learn from, such as the Senegal River Basin (West Africa), the Mekong River Basin (South East Asia), the Amazon River Basin (South America), the Zambezi River Basin (Southern Africa) and others which have some of the best water cooperation mechanisms in the world (Strategic Foresight Group 2015). India can leverage its influence and friendships in these parts of

78  Gauri Noolkar-Oak the world and create a support group to guide SAARC in the process of establishing pan–South Asian water cooperation. However, all these solutions need to be backed by active civil participation and vigilance. This is indeed easier said than done, but given the vibrant civil sector in most South Asian countries, it is indeed possible to generate public awareness and galvanise citizens into action. The process has already begun at local levels and promises to strengthen in the future. Currently, most of civil society activism in the water sector is focused on local issues pertaining to the environment, equitability in access to water, and demand management. If this activism is equipped with understanding the geopolitical equations (not just transboundary; they operate at all levels) and one’s position as a stakeholder in the whole geopolitical game surrounding the particular water resource, then civil society activists can better grasp the incentives and imperatives the game offers, speak the geopolitical language and bargain more effectively. Ironically, it is only by understanding the geopolitics of transboundary water cooperation that South Asian societies can persuade their political representatives to prioritise holistic development of rivers and their riparian communities over geopolitical equations. It is only an alert and informed civil society that can steer India, and indeed other South Asian governments, in this direction. Given how rigidly state-centric transboundary water cooperation in South Asia is, it is extremely challenging for civil society stakeholders to influence the decision-making processes. Through grasping the larger geopolitical drivers of the water cooperation scenarios in the region, civil society can at least expect to put a sturdy foot in the door.

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From lukewarm to meaningful  81 RSIS. n.d. ‘Indus Delta’. Ramsar Sites Information Service. https://rsis.ramsar.org/ ris/1284. Rudra, K. 2017. ‘Sharing Water across Indo-Bangladesh Border’. In: Bandyopadhyay S., Torre A., Casaca P., Dentinho T. (eds) Regional Cooperation in South Asia (pp. 189–207). Cham, Switzerland: Springer. SADC. 2012. ‘Water’. South African Development Community: Towards a Common Future. https://www.sadc.int/themes/natural-resources/water/. Sahgal, P., & Dasgupta, P. 2011. ‘Manmohan’s Dhaka visit: Mamata Banerjee’s absence sabotaged Teesta treaty’, India Today, 10 September. https://www.­ indiatoday.in/magazine/nation/story/20110919-teesta-water-sharing-talks-putoff-mamata-banerjee-manmohan-747561-2011-09-10. Sehgal, R. 2018. ‘Kishanganga Hydroelectric Project: New power facility may become another flashpoint in India-Pakistan ties’. Firstpost, 25 May. https://www. firstpost.com/india/kishanganga-hydroelectric-project-new-power-­facility-maybecome-another-flash-point-in-india-pakitan-ties-4482809.html. Sehgal, R. 2019. ‘Why Hydropower is a Pipe Dream in Kashmir’s development’. News Click, 30 August. https://www.newsclick.in/Hydropower-PipeDream-Kashmir-Development. Sen, S. 2019. ‘NHPC lines up Rs 70,000 crore investment over 8–9 years’. The New Indian Express, 10 August. https://www.newindianexpress.com/business/2019/ aug/10/nhpc-lines-up-rs-70000-crore-investment-over-8-9-years-2016902.html. Sharma, B., Amarasinghe, U., Xueliang, C., de Condappa, D., Shah, T., et al. 2010. ‘The Indus and the Ganges: River basins under extreme pressure’. Water International, 35(5): 493–521. Singh, I. P. 2017. ‘Narendra Modi promises Indus water to Punjab’. Times of India, 28 January. https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/elections/assembly-elections/punjab/ news/narendra-modi-promises-indus-water-to-punjab/articleshow/56826613. cms. Strategic Foresight Group. 2013. ‘Rivers of Peace: Restructuring India-Bangladesh Relations’. Strategic Foresight Group. http://www.strategicforesight.com/publication_pdf/22345riversofpeace-website.pdf. Strategic Foresight Group. 2015. ‘Water Cooperation Quotient’. Strategic Foresight Group. https://www.strategicforesight.com/publication_pdf/28799WCQ-web.pdf. Surie, M. D. 2015. ‘South Asia’s Water Crisis: A Problem of Scarcity Amid Abundance’. The Asia Foundation. https://asiafoundation.org/2015/03/25/ south-asias-water-crisis-a-problem-of-scarcity-amid-abundance/. The World Bank. 2015. ‘The National Ganga River Basin Project’. The World Bank.  http://www.worldbank.org/en/news/feature/2015/03/23/ india-the-national-ganga-river-basin-project. The World Bank. n.d. One South Asia. The World Bank. http://www.worldbank. org/en/programs/south-asia-regional-integration. Tripathi, A., Kumar, N., & Chauhan, D. K. 2017. ‘Understanding integrated impacts of climate change and pollution on Ganges river system: A mini review on biological effects, knowledge gaps and research needs’. SM Journal of Biology, 3(1): 1–10. United Nations Treaty Series. 1977. Agreement on Sharing of the Ganges Waters at Farakka and on Augmenting its Flows (with schedule). Signed at Dacca on 5 November 1977. https://treaties.un.org/doc/Publication/UNTS/Volume%20 1066/volume-1066-I-16210-English.pdf.

82  Gauri Noolkar-Oak Wheeler, W. 2011. ‘India and Pakistan at Odds Over Shrinking Indus River’. National Geographic News, 13 October. https://news.nationalgeographic.com/ news/2011/10/111012-india-pakistan-indus-river-water/. Wolf, A. T., Kramer, A., Carius, A., & Dabelko, G. D. 2005. Managing Water Conflict and Cooperation. State of the World 2005: Redefining Global Security. pp. 80–95. London: World Watch Institute. Wolf, A. T., & Newton, J. T. 2008. Case Study of Transboundary Dispute Resolution: The Indus Water Treaty. Corvallis: Department of Geosciences, Oregon State University. WRIS, GoI. 2014. ‘Farakka Barrage B00639’. http://india-wris.nrsc.gov.in/wrpinfo/ index.php?title=Farakka_Barrage_B00639. WRIS, GoI. 2018. ‘Ganga’. India-WRIS Wiki. http://india-wris.nrsc.gov.in/wrpinfo/ index.php?title=Ganga Yasir, S. 2016. ‘Indus Waters Treaty, the Tulbul project and its implications on IndiaPakistan relations’. Firstpost, 27 September. https://www.firstpost.com/india/ indus-waters-treaty-the-tulbul-project-and-its-implications-on-india-pakistan-­ relations-3022076.html.

4 ‘Shared’ waterscapes The case of river Ravi in Indian and Pakistan Punjab Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar

While narratives (micro, meso and meta) are an important medium to understand puzzles embedded in social and political reality, water diplomacy in South Asia has failed to engage with narratives emanating from the micro level. A case in point is India–Pakistan relations, where the plurality of meanings associated with water often gets usurped by the dominant strategic narratives of water diplomacy, which equates water with national security and national interest. Considering this to be an important gap, which currently informs the meta-narrative of water diplomacy in South Asia in general and India–Pakistan relations in particular, this chapter identifies certain micro-narratives which are salient to understanding how meanings associated with water change and can potentially even diffuse across scales. Such discussions merit attention because of the relationship that has been established between local scales and water conflict. For instance, Qutub et al. (2004) argue that water problems can replicate themselves at multiple scales, and that addressing water security problems at a local scale has larger ramifications for reducing conflicts at the national/international scales. On a similar note, Daanish Mustafa draws attention to the nature of subnational politics between India and Pakistan. Taking a case analysis of Indian Punjab, Mustafa argues that how the issue of ‘water distribution among the states of Punjab, Haryana, and Rajasthan came to be very liberally used by the Sikh nationalist elements in their rhetoric against the central government’ (Mustafa 2007: 491). Local scale issues for Mustafa need to be taken into cognizance, as they not only shed light on issues of accessibility, affordability and quantity but also on the religious and cultural meanings associated with water, which unfortunately get overshadowed due to the strategic and engineering imperatives, which treat water as a resource, often directed towards economic growth. Notwithstanding these developments which are reflective of the broader trajectory of India–Pakistan bilateral relations, this chapter draws attention to the literature around scales and narratives, examining local discourses around River Ravi, a transboundary minor river shared by India and ­Pakistan. At a conceptual level, it emancipates ‘waterscapes’ (which is different from IWRM1) as a perspective to explore and understand water-­ centric landscapes by revisiting emerging local voices from Indian Punjab and

84  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar Pakistan Punjab. ‘Waterscapes’ is employed as an analytical tool, as it offers a useful framework to capture narratives around riverscapes, which are hostage to cartographic constructions and thus are overshadowed by statist discourses where water is often equated narrowly with economic growth, resource scarcity and national interest. The chapter supports the understanding proposed by IWRM, that the river and its supporting ecosystem should be an essential criterion for informing water diplomacy.2 However, taking this argument further and deemphasising the normativity embedded in it, in terms of assuming the hydrological scale as natural and given, the waterscape perspective focuses on the politics of space and scale. A significant way for emancipating this are our attempts to capture the local discourses along a hydrological unit (the river Ravi) which not only helps in broadening and deepening the ‘hybrid’ meaning of water but also draws attention to the intersections of legal, political, social and natural interactions along the hydrological unit. Against this backdrop, the chapter seeks to address the following questions: Can the understanding of waterscapes facilitate a more nuanced approach to highlight the potential of transboundary water cooperation in South Asia? In what ways can local discourses on ‘shared experiences’ inform the narrative of water diplomacy? Can the waterscape perspective be an expedient means to revisit the larger macro-narrative of hydro-­ diplomacy, and what ramification this can have for the discourse on water conflicts in general and India–Pakistan relations in particular? These questions are addressed in the following manner. The first section introduces the meaning of ‘waterscapes’ and its relevance for informing the broader narrative on water diplomacy. The second section offers a modular approach by highlighting issues related to water quality and quantity which are distinct to Ravi sub-basin shared by India and Pakistan. Through this modular approach it attempts to give some perspective to local discourses around minor rivers. The third section elicits shared experiences of people living in Indian and Pakistan Punjab. The discussion is restricted to issues related to water quality and quantity. The fourth section revisits the narrative of Indus Water Treaty by contrasting the macro- and micro-narratives, thus foregrounding the perspective of waterscapes in water diplomacy.

Waterscapes and water-diplomacy: beyond IWRM At the outset, the juxtaposition of waterscapes and water diplomacy might appear not only anomalous to some but also utopian in the context of South Asia in general and India–Pakistan in particular. The primary reason is the different way through which the two have been conceptualised given their disciplinary origins. The ‘perspective’ of waterscape stems from the discipline of political ecology, which gets its meaning from the intertwined character of nature and society (Karpouzoglou & Vij 2017). This analysis does not privilege any clear boundaries and is in direct contrast to diplomacy, where borders and difference become markers for engagement. Often

‘Shared’ waterscapes  85 understood as a ‘hybrid’ concept, since it intends to capture the dynamism that exists between society and nature, scholars argue that the idea of waterscape helps in giving a perspective to the socio-economic and political factors which inform the identity of specific landscapes (Swyngedouw 1999; Karpouzoglou & Vij 2017). This is different from the IWRM perspective which marginalises the political factors in favour of ecological ones. This waterscape perspective also offers a fascinating entry point to engage with ‘meanings’ of water which can be subject to fluid interpretations given the hybrid (social and political) environment marked by dynamism. What determines the meaning of water is thus subject to changing relationships that characterise specific spaces and multiple scales. The waterscape perspective can become significant to the discourse on water diplomacy, as it goes beyond meta-narratives which are locked in interstate competition, often reflective of fixed positions, and brings to the fore emerging meanings of water which are continuously emerging from the local level. The term ‘water diplomacy’ is generally associated with how actors negotiate and persuasively communicate their interests around water issues at an international/bilateral level. The field of water diplomacy has been informed by different strategies and tactics which actors can employ to influence the interest or perception of others. There are three dominant strands which have emerged in this regard. The first is a negotiation approach, which epistemologically has been inspired by rationale choice models and cognitive psychology (Raiffa 2007; Islam & Susskind 2013). This approach focuses on how cooperation can be achieved by riparian actors by adopting integrated or problem-solving approaches on water cooperation. While some scholarship primarily focuses on state actors and trade-offs that ensue by undertaking a problem-solving approach, some scholars have also looked at the role of perceptions, non-state actors and why their inclusion and participation become mandatory in terms of reaching optimum outcomes (Sebenius 1983; Dinar 2007; Raiffa 2007). The second approach examines the relevance of scales and emphasises frameworks related to multi-level governance. The scalar approaches addresses the complexity of water, which is equally significant at the local and global levels, and focuses on the interaction between actors, levels, sectors and issues which influence water governance (Cook et al. 2015; Suhardiman, 2017) . As Budds and Hinojosa (2012) rightly put it, ‘waterscapes explore ways in which flows of water, power and capital converge to produce uneven socio-ecological arrangements over a period of time.’ The third approach is the ecological one (IWRM), which emphasises the relationality that can be uniquely identified with the hydrological regime of rivers. Scholars who take the hydrologic scales as their point of departure focus on river basins and watersheds as natural scales, and question the salience of territorial scales while undertaking water decisions (Bandopadhyay and Ghosh 2009). While the above are significant in understanding multiple ways of approaching water diplomacy, they are trapped in dualisms that different

86  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar disciplinary technologies bring to the fore, thus obviating a holistic vision which can lead to effective and sustainable water agreements. One of the primary reasons for this is the emphasis on different ontological priorities and methodological inquiries. For instance, in the negotiation approach, state becomes the primary actor of analysis. In the scalar approach, communities and bureaucracies situated at multiple scales demand ontological priority, and can mediate their interests through the states or participate in multi-stakeholder/scaler settings. In the ecological approach, environment and ecological issues take ontological priority, and relational inquiries between rivers and the ecosystem are often emphasised. The role of states is minimised in such discourses. Given these emerging strands around water diplomacy–governance interface, this chapter argues that the perspective of waterscapes can endow holism to one’s analysis that the IWRM approach promises. It can also potentially bridge the duality that exists between water governance (implementation) and diplomacy (negotiations) and, while taking cognizance of the political under currents, can help to reconcile the relational and territorial contradictions associated with these strands. Not only does it offer a perceptual shift in terms of highlighting the scalar complexity of water challenges in the South Asian context, but it also captures the dynamism embedded in the water sector in terms of examining the changing equations between society and nature. The dynamism at the local level emerges as an important variable for informing a more need-based, informed approach to understanding hydro-diplomacy. Another reason why waterscapes has been employed as an important perspective is because of the flexibility it offers to help retaining the conflictual and political undertones related to ‘power’ which are elemental in defining water diplomacy in complex transboundary settings such as South Asia. However, the fact that it is qualified with the term ‘shared’ elevates its value as an analytical tool to similar issues across border areas which transboundary waterscapes witness. This is significant in South Asia, as border districts often witness challenges of similar nature. The term ‘waterscapes’ thus can offer useful insights on the water diplomacy discourse. First, it challenges the term ‘transboundary rivers’, which can be hostage to state-centric discourses, often overshadowing the needs of individuals and communities (Bryant 2015; Karpouzoglou & Vij 2017). Waterscapes, on the other hand, can direct attention towards changing contexts at the local level. Second, it highlights the dynamic relationship between water and society, which is continuously being produced and reproduced through complex water challenges associated with access, distribution, pollution and increasing demands of water. Thus waterscapes in this context is a relational term, as it highlights how unequal power relations function and are constructed around water bodies, which in turn impacts the uses of water. Third, the term ‘waterscapes’ is also not just related to rivers but has the potential to highlight other forms of water bodies and related issues such as aquifers, wetlands, ponds and soil degradation, amongst others.

‘Shared’ waterscapes  87 This also helps to highlight the importance and significance of local narratives which could reveal the character of the larger ecosystem (ponds, biodiversity, wetlands, soil quality etc.) which plays an important role in understanding the nature of water or the health of the river and the overall ecology of its basin. Such perspectives are absent in the macro analysis of hydro-diplomacy. This helps in bringing out subjectivities which often revolve around water, such as gender dimensions and differential impact on the marginalised and socially excluded. Fourth, the term ‘waterscapes’ also helps to address the question of scale when it comes to macro/micro water narratives. This question of scale is an important aspect when one talks about the linkages between the local, national and international and helps to illuminate the braided interface and the interactions which often take place between macro policies and micro politics. Shared waterscapes thus represent itself as a useful analytical tool for enquiry, deliberation and analysis, highlighting an alternative way for imagining transboundary water spaces. The analytical lens of waterscapes not only enables one to take a scalar analysis from the national to the local level but also helps to sensitise the policy makers to local issues, which in the case of South Asia happen to be similar across border districts. In this context, the case of the Ravi River offers an enticing entry point for analysis. Ravi is a minor river in contrast to the mighty Indus, which often gets overshadowed in the strategic water discourse between India and Pakistan. However, the focus on Ravi helps to illustrate some nuances which become visible as one applies the waterscape perspective to the transboundary river. The Ravi sub-basin: the case of a minor river Ravi basin forms a part of a larger Indus Basin in South Asia and can be an illustrative example of showcasing the application of the shared waterscapes perspective. However, we must add a qualifier here that ‘shared’ has been used to underline the lived (read shared) problems of people residing in the border areas. While we respect the sovereign borders of India and ­Pakistan, we also argue that water complexities in post-colonial states are often guided by macro-bargaining strategies, which fail to account for emerging fluidities in the changing waterscapes. Thus, the concept of ‘shared’ waterscapes helps in bringing forth two contrasting strands of thought. First, it goes beyond the static nature of water treaties by highlighting the fluidity and transformation which are cardinal to local sites, where the shifting nature of water use and consumption is primarily indicative of the dynamism embedded in the water sector. Second, underlining the relationality embedded in water courses, it also privileges the local scale which elevates a minor river (in contrast to Indus) as a site of contested spaces. Significantly then, this transboundary scale, which is simultaneously local, national and international, can be understood through the idea of ‘shared waterscapes’ to highlight the downscaling and upscaling of value preferences which stakeholders have at the multiple levels.

88  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar The chapter thus explores these ‘value preferences’, through the lens of ‘waterscapes’, given that they offer a distinct perspective for reconciling water governance with water diplomacy. It is argued that such understanding not only effectively informs the concept of water diplomacy but also highlights how local narratives or need-based approach can be upscaled through bottom-up analysis and help to inform macro-narratives, which characterise negotiated treaties at the bilateral level.

Ravi River: a ‘unique’ profile Ravi is a transboundary river shared by India and Pakistan. Its total length is 720 km, out of which approximately 320 km is in India – of which 158 km lies within Himachal Pradesh and 162 km within Punjab. The Ravi Basin has the potential to generate 3,237 MW of power (Sharma 2014). The Ravi River forms an international boundary while passing through Gurdaspur and Amritsar districts of Punjab. Ravi witnesses wide flow variations during monsoon and winter seasons, with peak flows in the months of July and August and low flow periods between November and February. The left bank of the river falls in the Punjab State and the right bank in Jammu & Kashmir State, about 24 km upstream of Madhopur head-works. It finally leaves the Indian territory at Goina/Kakarmani village some 80 km away from the city of Lahore. Along the Indo–Pakistani border, Ravi runs from Madhopur to 32 km west of Shahdara, entering Pakistan at Shakargarh, Narowal. The five major natural tributaries of the Ravi in Pakistan are Ujh, Bein, Basantar, Deg and Hudiara nullah, whereas the upper catchment lies in India. Four districts in Indian and Pakistan Punjab thus become important for understanding the shared waterscapes associated with the river. In Indian Punjab, it would include a district in the North West Zone, the Majha region, which includes Pathankot, Gurdaspur, Amritsar and Taran-Taran. In Pakistan Punjab, the districts are Lahore, Kasur, Sialkot and Narowal. The map in Figure 4.1 represents the site for study which was undertaken by the teams in India and Pakistan, and the districts shown here are demarcated by a 15-km buffer zone. The Ravi River sub-basin lies in the temperate climate zone, with mild to cold winters and hot summers. As the River enters Pakistan, land features change from sub-mountainous region to central plain region with flat plain, rich in alluvial soil suitable for practising farming activities. Wide flow variations are observed during the monsoon period (July–September) and low flow periods between winter seasons (November–February). Conjunctive use of both surface and groundwater fulfils the water requirements of the region; these requirements include meeting domestic water supply, irrigation use and industrial utility. Given some of the important entry points which are elemental to the Indus Water Treaty, which will be studied later, the Ravi offers itself as an interesting site of study. First, it helps one to focus on similarities across border areas in terms of the shift of focus to eastern rivers from western rivers

‘Shared’ waterscapes  89

Figure 4.1  Bordering districts in Indian and Pakistan Punjab. Note: The international boundaries, coastlines, denominations and other information shown in any map in this work do not necessarily imply any judgement concerning the legal status of any territory or the endorsement or acceptance of such information. For current boundaries, readers may refer to the Survey of India maps.

(Jhelum, Chenab and Indus), which lack the similarities in the ­ socio-­ economic-ecological fabric in contrast to the waterscapes which are revealed in India and Pakistan Punjab. Significantly, the riparian discourse on the western rivers remains primarily conflictual given the geopolitical undertones related to Kashmir and the politicised discourses on dams and barrages which are often a hostage to the competitive behaviour exhibited by the riparians. Second, a focus on River Ravi also opens the way to look for potential meeting points, given that it is a ‘border creator’ river and enjoys a geographically symmetric relationship (Dinar 2007). It has been argued that in the border creator configuration, any state that engages in a harmful activity may harm itself as well as its neighbour. This is unlike a cross-border configuration, which is a geographically asymmetrical relationship where an upstream country can harm a downstream country (Dinar 2007). The consequences of a border creator river become sharper when one casts a look at the similarities and the shared problems which people in India and Pakistan witness particularly in the border districts. During multiple stakeholder discussions which were undertaken in the Indian and Pakistan Punjab from 2016 to 2017, two interrelated issues merited attention. These are water availability and water quality. While issues related to

90  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar culture, technology, architectures, plight of the marginalised and vulnerable groups including the intersectionality of class, caste and gender were highlighted, this chapter limits its analysis to two variables, given the paucity of space for discussion. An attempt is made to inform these variables, in a holistic manner, so that the lived realities through the local discourses can be contrasted with macro-narratives. The issues highlighted here should be understood in terms of illustrating a braided narrative which exists in discourses around transboundary water governance and diplomacy at the local level. This is a unique feature to South Asia, given the contiguous land territory and the nature of borders in South Asia. In the diplomatic discourses, often water quantity is highlighted vis-a-vis water quality. The identity of the shared waterscape of the Ravi basin has also been restricted to these two areas of quantity and quality as it captures the gap between the macro-level narratives and local-led discourses which are more proximate to the lived realities and perspectives.

Water quantity and quality: a case of river Ravi in Indian Punjab3 The Indian side of Punjab is highly dependent on both surface and groundwater resources. Hydrology is one of the most significant variables when it comes to analysing the supply side of the water cycle. Precipitation rates and snowmelt patterns are the primary indicators which can potentially direct analyses for this variable. Ravi is a snow-fed river, and reports claim that the impact of climate change has been observed in Indian Punjab in recent years given that temperatures and rainfall have shown unusual trends (Anwar and Bisht 2017). The consequence of this has been witnessed by extensive damage to cotton crops. However, some notes claim that discharges in the Ravi and Beas rivers will not be significantly affected, as River Ravi has fewer glacier basins, thus yielding an insignificant contribution from glacial melt. There is also paucity of research on how climate change will impact installed power capacity, environmental flows in the dry season and higher flows during the wet season (Gosain 2011). While a hydrological analysis is important to minimise uncertainties in such projections, the literature on precipitation patterns reveals that cropping patterns in Indian Punjab may be adversely affected. While water availability will be impacted in the near future, there are impending issues related to serious groundwater quality and availability, as access to clean drinking water has emerged as a major challenge. Thus, the understanding of the water quantity is now being contrasted with the availability of clean and safe drinking and bathing water. The rice-wheat cropping pattern is one of the major reasons for growing water concern because of government policies favouring its adoption (­Pandey 2014). There is huge demand for these crops, and thus farmers expect an assured return, as per the minimum support price (MSP) offered for rice and wheat (Pandey 2014). Moreover, free electricity and fertiliser subsidies make the environment conducive for farmers to use the high-yielding varieties (HYV) and fertilisers to increase crop yield. According to official reports, the food security targets aspired by the state came at a huge cost,

‘Shared’ waterscapes  91 where state policies such as subsidised electricity and irrigation practices accelerated the pace of groundwater consumption and depletion (CGWB 2014). Though around 94 per cent of the net sown area in Punjab has irrigation facilities, as compared to the national average of 40.5 per cent, the depletion of groundwater has been rising at unsustainable rates (CGWB 2014). Punjab witnesses an extensive network of canals, and tube wells are a major source of irrigation in the state. In Amritsar, the percentage of gross irrigated area to gross cropped area is 100 per cent while in Gurdaspur it is around 86.7 per cent. This shows the extent to which irrigation is being applied in these regions. The number of tube wells per square kilometre of land is quite high in Punjab, which clearly shows reliance on underground aquifers to meet the water demand of the state. Emerging evidence suggests that there is a continuous decline in the groundwater table in several districts of Punjab (CGWB 2014; Pandey 2014). The trend clearly shows an extensive reliance on groundwater rather surface water in Indian Punjab. The waterscape of Indian Punjab thus make politics around groundwater an important variable for analysis. Thus, it is not just the extensive usage of water which is a cause of concern in the agricultural sector; it is also the quality of safe and clean water. The contamination of water due to heavy usage of chemical fertilisers and pesticides, domestic wastes and industrial effluents is also a concern, as it is directly impacting the quality of groundwater in the region. Decreasing groundwater tables, extensive usage of chemical fertilisers and pesticides, and domestic and industrial discharges have had a direct impact on the quality of groundwater in the region. As the quality of water is declining, diseases caused by toxic content in water are on a rise. Restricted and poor supply of piped water in rural areas due to negligence in maintenance is exacerbating water-related diseases. Highest numbers of cancer patients were reported from Amritsar in 2014, numbering 914. On the other hand, Gurdaspur and Pathankot combined had 649 patients (Statistical Abstract, Punjab 2015). The above-mentioned situation has arisen despite the fact that almost all the villages in the said districts have been covered under the rural water supply scheme. The health problems, arising due to increased water toxicity, are contributing to the indebtedness of the farmers and agriculture labourers as well. They are spending large amounts of money on health-related matters. A study pointed out that the second important purpose for which loans were acquired by marginal and small farmers in Indian Punjab was for healthcare (Singh 2010).

Water quantity and quality: a case of river Ravi in Pakistan Punjab4 Similar to the water use patterns in Indian Punjab, use of surface and groundwater to meet domestic, agricultural and industrial needs remains an eminent feature Pakistani Punjab. About fourteen districts, namely Lahore, Sialkot, Kasur, Gujranwala, Sheikhupura, Faisalabad, Toba Tek Singh,

92  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar Okara, Sahiwal, Khanewal, Nankana Sahib, Narowal, Jhang and Chiniot, covering a total area of approximately 4.1 million hectares, fall within the Ravi river basin in Pakistan. Land use features of these districts reveal that the major land cover comprises 60–65 per cent of agricultural land, forests and open fields used for cultivation of crops and grazing of livestock, while 35–40 per cent of the area is covered by settlements, indicating subsidiary agricultural practices in the area are dominant and are a main feature of the economy. However, growing urbanisation is briskly consuming much of agricultural spaces, causing concretisation of the region and reduction in groundwater recharge potential. Review of literature reveals that River Ravi in Pakistani Punjab has been facing declining flows over the years, from 7 MAF (million acre feet) during the 1960s to 1.2 MAF between 2001 and 2011 (WAPDA 2018). This flow decrease is largely attributed to the infrastructural developments along the course of the river and the implications of the Indus Water Treaty (IWT), as water use rights are given to India, with provisions of non-consumptive water use by Pakistan. On the ecological spectrum, the nature of flow reductions has negatively impacted the riverine biodiversity of the Ravi river basin in Pakistan, as the river is seen to have gradually lost its assimilative capacity to recover from excessive dumping of pollution and over-abstraction of water. Increasing reliance on groundwater by the agricultural sector, predominantly during the Green Revolution era in mid- to late 1960s in Pakistani Punjab, led to installation of subsidised tube wells for increasing the capacity of irrigation – ­consequently impacting the conjunctive use of surface and groundwater. A disbalance created between the two has increased overall water stress levels in the Ravi sub-catchments. Besides this, increasing municipal and industrial wastewater discharges and agricultural runoffs into River Ravi (almost 99 per cent of untreated wastewater) reduces the availability of fresh clean water. A population estimated at 38 million people along the belt of River Ravi is at risk of facing severe water scarcity, deprivation of clean and safe drinking water, exposure to poor water quality, and increased risk of waterborne diseases if no measures are taken to restore the minimum environmental flows into the river. As highlighted, overexploitation of groundwater has already caused a severe water table decline in most canal command areas in Punjab and Sindh provinces. The average decline in the groundwater table is approximately 1.5 meters per year (m/y) (WWF-Pakistan 2014). Farmers in the region are digging deep to get water for their crops, not only increasing their operational cost but also compromising on the quality of water, as the water at greater depths is more saline and has higher concentrations of geomorphologically existent arsenic (Lahore 2017). Wheat–rice, wheat– cotton, and sugarcane–fodder are dominant crop rotations in the Ravi river basin. These three-crop pattern (with the minor addition of sugarcane) has persisted in Punjab in spite of enormous changes that have occurred in the structure of demand and prices. Wheat is grown in irrigated and non-­ irrigated regions in winter and spring season (rabbi), whereas according to

‘Shared’ waterscapes  93 the agro-climatic conditions, different crops are grown in the summer season (kharif). The main animal feed sources are fodder crops, e.g. burseem, alfalfa, wheat straw and rice bran. This pattern has implications for water availability, since both rice and cotton are water-intensive crops. Urbanisation and industrialisation lead to a manifold increase in pollution load in Pakistan Punjab. An independent assessment carried out by WWF-Pakistan on the industrial pollution entering the Ravi basin in Pakistani Punjab revealed only 2 per cent of the industries have operational wastewater treatment plants. The net cumulative percentage contribution of pollution load to the Ravi river basin by textiles, leather, food and beverage, basic metals, chemicals, fertilisers, and paper and pulp manufacturing industries was estimated to be on the order of 34 per cent, 3 per cent, 23 per cent, 8 per cent, 12 per cent and 4 per cent, respectively, relative to each other. Major polluting heavy metals found in water samples in Ravi were chromium, lead, cadmium, arsenic and mercury, with traces of nickel. The nature of water quality can be gauged from health-related risks, which are increasing in Pakistan Punjab. The Environment Protection Agency (EPA), Government of Punjab, Pakistan declared 85 per cent of samples collected for sub-soil water quality assessment in 2015 from fourteen districts in Punjab unfit for human consumption. Extensive pollution load is present in urban peripheries caused by waste disposal, considering unrestricted industrial and domestic waste discharges into river streams. The trend is alarmingly expanding and continues to threaten lives of many communities dwelling in the region, in particular women and children. The presence of toxic heavy metals in irrigation water, especially downstream of River Ravi, is further causing serious damage to animal life and fisheries. A direct economic impact of untreated wastewater is the loss of fishery catches, which affects incomes and has nutritional and health impacts on consumers. Reportedly, thirty-one species of fish which existed in River Ravi have declined over the course of two decades due to pollution. The use of contaminated surface water from Ravi for irrigation and recreational purposes is also replete with serious consequences, as this will have a direct impact on ecosystem and human health. In peri-urban areas of Lahore, farmers are using untreated sewage/industrial water for vegetable production, and water-related diseases such as typhoid, cholera, dysentery and hepatitis are very common.5 In addition to predominant waterborne diseases, heavy metals and persistent organic pollutants, owing to their tendency to bio-accumulate in the food chain, are causing cancer and cardiovascular diseases in beneficiary communities of Ravi River. The analysis above (Indian and Pakistan Punjab) has been informed both through extensive literature survey and stakeholder dialogues. In order to highlight some of these identified problems, local lived discourses on shared waterscape of Ravi River become significant. The following section discusses some select issues which are reflective of the experiential realities exhibiting limitations of policy interventions which the people and policy makers inhabiting the shared waterscapes of Indian and Pakistan Punjab witness.

94  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar

Local discourses and perspectives The local discourses presented here are a product of focused group discussions which were held in Lahore, Pakistan in 2017 and in Chandigarh, India in 2017. The mix of participants in both India and Pakistan included bureaucrats, technocrats, farmers, farmer collectives, academics and water professionals working with local and national non-governmental organisation and international non-governmental organisations. Discourses from Pakistan Punjab: Discourses from Pakistan Punjab confirmed the findings of the literature review that water availability and water quality are among the most gnawing problems. In order to cope with some of these problems, focus was on ingenuous use of technology, building up water infrastructure, primarily through link canals, and striking a balance between conjunctive use of ground and surface water. The discourse mentioned below is a mix of responses, which were elicited by the group of diverse stakeholders in Lahore, Pakistan. Lahore is a hydrological society, as it was primarily dependent on the water of River Ravi. Contemporary Lahore is witnessing pressure due to migration from other cities in Pakistan. The major challenges witnessed by Lahore today are urbanization, reliance on ground water and growing population. As a consequence, per capita water availability is going down. The only way to achieve water availability is by employing water conservation measures, which should include regulating water use, proper metering and pricing of water, recharging ground water, treating the existing domestic and industrial wastewater discharge, and using drip water irrigation amongst others. The way to augment water availability was by recharging the dried patches of Ravi. While laws regarding regulation of wastewater are present in Pakistan, there is a lack of effective implementation on the ground. The nexus between industry/agriculture (implementers) and bureaucracy (regulators) is one of the main reasons for the lack of regulation. The stakeholders at the receiving end are the water users, and contaminated water is consumed by local public. In terms of mitigating water quality and availability issues, a holistic approach is needed. While laws regarding rainwater harvesting in the construction sector should be strictly followed, maximum extraction on groundwater should be capped. For rejuvenation of water and a conjunctive use between groundwater and surface water, percolation wells, recharge pits and dedicated recharge zones should be established. The only way for creating political will is through cross-­ societal mobilization ranging from ecological sensitivity in schools, to working in partnerships with grass roots organizations.6 (Lahore 2017) These discourses from the bordering districts of Pakistan Punjab reveal the character of problems, which are intertwined and make the boundary

‘Shared’ waterscapes  95 between quality and quantity fuzzy. While the situatedness of these responses stems from the local scale, it does reveal and reflect the meanings of water rooted in the everyday discourses. Discourses from Indian Punjab: The discourse in Indian Punjab was emphatically on access to clean drinking water, which in a way defies equating water security to availability. Access to clean drinking water not only highlights the element of water security but also underlines the notion of food security vis-a-vis nutrition security. While the legal frameworks, particularly relating to regulations and acts, were critically discussed, and revealed the fragmented nature of water laws, it was also felt that water laws need to be changed in terms of taking the user’s perspective into account. The discourse below is a mix of stakeholders which includes farmers, bureaucrats, technocrats and water professionals. Indian Punjab is witnessing a serious civilizational challenge of contaminated water, which is detrimental for humans, animals and microbial health. While the government does not talk about the sources for water contamination, the sources are fertilizers, coal-based power plants, excessive use of ground water, usage of urea amongst others. This is a life-style issue in Punjab, as the future young generation is getting affected and their immunity levels dropping low. Some emerging diseases in Punjab are allergies, diabetes and hyper-tension. Punjab as a society is heading towards slow ecocide and organic farming seems to be a viable solution. There is no regulation of water at all. Not only water thefts are common, but there is a lot of wastewater, which adds to water logging. Officers are politically pressurized not to penalize transgressors and farmers are politically connected to bypass payments. This phenomenon needs to be corrected. Most of the laws in India deal with water infrastructure. They do not deal with water sharing and water consumption. A water user’s perspective is clearly missing. Given the overlapping nature of laws, there is ambiguity and often water related laws are manipulated to benefit private profit. Subsidies should be regulated so that there is no over exploitation of water. Peoples participation and awareness is needed for laws to be implemented on ground.7 (Chandrigarh 2017) In the case of Indian Punjab, the discourses revolved around the slow death of Punjabi civilisation with access to clean and safe water for water users, emerging as a major perspective. Like in the case of Pakistan Punjab, it did refer to societal hierarchies and privileges which jeopardise effective implementation of policies. The discussion also focused on broadening the discourse on water quantity and quality to nutrition security and the sectoral nature of water laws which defies a holistic management of water resources. Given this brief background, some common water issues around River Ravi Basin, which make it a distinct waterscape range from hydrological,

96  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar cultural, social and governance concerns. The concept of water security is restricted not just to the availability of water but also to quality and the health costs which seem to be unsustainable in the long term. While issues such as these do not appear in the meta-narratives, they do raise the differential impact that ‘water security’ in Indian and Pakistani Punjab could potentially have on women, marginalised and the economically weaker sections of the society. Some other issues, which emerged as pressing concerns in the Ravi waterscape of Indian and Pakistani Punjab, were: • • •

• •

•

•

Ground and surface water quality deterioration: Heavy pollution loads from municipal and industrial effluents are disposed directly into River Ravi without an appropriate level of treatment. Climate change impact: Flash floods observed due to heavy rainfall in Pakistani Punjab and glacial melt in Indian North threaten livelihood and food security. Disconnectivity between legal structures and policy frameworks with community needs: The linkage between social structures and water bureaucracies has been a glaring gap and fails to address and protect community rights for water. Over-abstraction of groundwater: This is disrupting land quality, affecting its nutritional value while also leading to declining water table levels. Inequitable development leading to increased water stress: Heterogeneous development is leading to increased migration from rural to urban centres. This is creating hotspots of overpopulation in the region, creating stresses upon existing water resources in the River Ravi Basin. Land rights as proxy to water rights in rural areas: In mainstream rural patriarchal setups women have less opportunity to be part of the decision-making process. Rather, they are more engaged in labour work associated with gathering water for domestic needs and working on farms as cheap labour. Increase in waterborne diseases: Prevalence of waterborne diseases such as dysentery, diarrhoea, malaria and dengue, particularly in urban centres, is due to poor quality of water which is increasing health risks and jeopardising quality of life.

Back to water diplomacy As one moves to the bilateral scale, hydro-diplomacy and water regimes become important, and the notion of waterscapes which helps one to engage analytically with the lived problems gets overshadowed by water cooperation regimes. The minor tributaries of the Indus are pushed to the fringes, and the geopolitical discourses increase the cost of cooperation. What characterises the water regimes are issues which can facilitate mutual cooperation and the restraints it imposes to discipline the behaviour of state actors. If one analyses hydro-behaviour of India and Pakistan, they can be

‘Shared’ waterscapes  97 referred to as ‘cooperative antagonists’, which means both countries have preferred some agreement to no agreement and have been focusing on conflictual issues (Raiffa 2007). In a scenario where ‘cooperative antagonists’ characterise water diplomacy, does the concept of waterscapes become redundant? Taking this analysis further, we argue that the ‘shared waterscape’ perspective can significantly inform water diplomacy in the case of India and Pakistan (provided one understands the meaning of ‘water’ in holistic terms and does not restrict it to the quantity that flows in the river). Water in this context thus gets its meaning from the entire riverine system (biodiversity, wetlands, aquifers, sediments). In fact, if one juxtaposes the local discourses from the ground to the Indus Water Treaty, Ravi offers itself as an appropriate case of negotiating ‘trade-offs’ in water governance. The concept of Zone of Possible Agreement (ZOPA) needs to be reckoned on this account, as it helps broaden the bargaining range which potentially exists around the Indus Water Basin. This term in negotiation theory not only offers ways for innovative strategic cooperation but also highlights how a focus on a needs-based approach which can be elicited through shared waterscapes can help in understanding value preferences (priorities) of actors, and can influence cooperative potential in the long term. By undertaking a comparative analysis of Ravi sub-basin in Indian and Pakistan Punjab it was felt that water governance can indeed be the mitigating mechanism for water diplomacy and that undertaking stakeholder engagement with riparian communities can help to build a more informed base to illuminate needbased water agreements at the bilateral level. This approach can have larger ramifications for normalising relations between India and Pakistan at a bilateral level. Indus Water Treaty, 1960: through the lens of negotiation analysis If one was to undertake a diagnosis of the Indus Water Treaty, it is essentially an example of distributive bargaining (Max-Min approach) where the parties concerned (in this case India and Pakistan) tried to maximise their benefits and minimise losses. The financial incentive structure brought in by the good offices of the World Bank was able to soften positions, enabling India and Pakistan to come to the negotiating table. While not much attention has been given to some significant Articles, a close analysis reveals that the treaty itself offers feasible solutions to ecological issues, such as siltation, water logging, shifting of water tables, water contamination, groundwater extraction, problems of flood management, environmental flows (e-flows), uncertainties relating to climate change and precipitation patterns, in the basin catchments. For instance, the Indus Water Treaty (IWT) does mention clauses which highlight prospects for cooperation. Article 4, 5, 7 and 8 offer entry points to discuss the IWT from a governance perspective. It is argued that if one casts a look at the treaty, the bargaining range for cooperative potential

98  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar does exist. For instance, Article 4 on provisions regarding eastern and western rivers emphasises using communication channels on areas of concern and avoiding measures which cause direct and indirect harm to the other. Article 7 of the treaty underlines the possibility of optimum development of rivers through consultation, when issues related to drainage works or data sharing, amongst others, arise. Article 8, on the other hand, focuses on multiple approaches which can take alternative dispute resolution mechanisms into account. This is a significant addition, as no other water agreements in South Asia matches the details of the Indus Water Treaty when it comes to dispute resolution. Through the local discourses, it was evident that there are several issues which concern both India and Pakistan. These issues also exhibit shades of similarity, particularly in relation to institutional (in)capacities and the convergences that exist when one reflects on the socio-economic fabric of communities. Value preferences which stem from stakeholder narratives in Pakistan are flood management, water quality, minimum environmental flows and exploitation of groundwater with the absence of a regulatory mechanism. Value preferences which emerge from India are excessive exploitation of groundwater, absence of regulatory mechanism, cropping patters, shifting water tables and river course, and water quality. While constructing hydrological structures in western rivers is a priority concern for India, it is not highlighted in this case, as an attempt has been made to understand water through shared waterscapes. However, it is submitted that focusing on emerging issues, which impact River Ravi, could benefit countries and help to broaden the strategic discourse on the Indus Water Treaty itself. Focusing the discourse on mainstreaming water governance challenges, which is in the process of consolidation at the level of water policies in India and Pakistan, need to be strengthened, particularly on issues which have a transboundary significance. Water quality and issues related to groundwater exploitation merit attention on this account. As far as bilateral cooperation is concerned, both countries could make use of Article 7. The Article mentions cooperation on maintaining drainage systems, flood protection, and flood control, amongst others. Articles 4 and 5 also merit attention, as they highlight issues related to preventing river erosion, promoting river protection and treating sewage and industrial water at the source point, which are some of the important ways for promoting cooperation in the Indus Water Treaty. At the domestic level, both Indian and Pakistani Punjab are witnessing water quality problems. Cooperation on treating water at the domestic level will by default add to transboundary cooperation, as one of Pakistan’s concerns relates to environmental flows, which includes quality, quantity and timing of water flows. Similarly, the Indian concern on existing and potential structures, which can be created on Pakistan’s side to divert waters during monsoons on the banks of Ravi, can only be resolved when the focus shifts from western rivers to governance and development-related problems

‘Shared’ waterscapes  99 which are of concern to eastern rivers. Some of these issues, when deconstructed and addressed gradually, can lead to pathways for an effected hydro-interaction at the cross-national level. Problems witnessed by the Ravi River are a reminder of how minor rivers and marginal tributaries get appropriated by macro-geopolitical discourses. Water diplomacy in this sense needs to be disaggregated and some of these local discourses need to be upscaled. Unless this is done, the discourses on water conflicts would remain cosmetic and rivers will be instrumental in fanning hyper-nationalist discourses. Assessment of available data and literature and narratives elicited from various stakeholders have revealed that issues along the Ravi River in Pakistan and India are cross-cutting in nature. Water issues are primarily linked to hydrological constraints but have an intertwined fabric of quantity and quality concern to consumption and use of water. Socio-economic and water management challenges are cross-cutting at local levels in both India and Pakistan. Shared societal narratives which emerge out of waterscapes need to be taken heed of, otherwise the macro-narrative of water diplomacy will become hostage to a conflictual paradigm. Given the multiple issues that impact the Ravi sub-basin, localisation of diplomacy, through inclusion of ‘shared’ waterscapes, is one of the ways for addressing the water dilemma between India and Pakistan.

Acknowledgement The authors are thankful to the research assistance offered in the project by Raj Kaithwar and Jitendra Taneja, India and Zonia Awan, Rohma Razzak and Amna Iqbal, Pakistan.

Notes 1 It needs to be noted here that both IWRM and waterscapes are distinct categories. This chapter does not argue for integrated water resource management, which privileges hydrographic boundaries as one of the primary departure points for facilitating water cooperation. In contrast, it resorts to the ‘waterscape perspective’ which emphasises that rivers and hydrographic units are not natural but are as much social as they are political. They are often produced and reproduced through complex interactions. See Zinzani and Bichael (2018) for differentiating the two. 2 Bandopadhyay and Ghosh (2009) have termed traditional water diplomacy as narrow and reductionist engineering. They offer an alternative systems approach by foregrounding the understanding of hydro-diplomacy in the ecosystems perspective. This is one of the first comprehensive case study on South Asia, which challenges the traditional understanding of water diplomacy in a systematic and comprehensive manner. 3 The section on India is based on the analysis drawn by the India team, led by Medha Bisht, South Asian University, New Delhi. 4 The section on Pakistan is based on the analysis drawn by the Pakistan team, led by Sohaib Waseem Anwar, WWF-Pakistan. 5 Situation Analysis of Water Resources in Lahore, WWF-Pakistan, 2014, p. 23.

100  Medha Bisht and Sohaib Waseem Anwar 6 All recordings are available with authors. 7 All recordings are available with authors.

References Anwar, S., & Bisht, M. 2017. Hydro-diplomacy and Local Narratives: Case Study of River Ravi in Indian and Pakistan Punjab. Lahore: WWF-Pakistan. Bandopadhyay, J., & Ghosh, N. 2009. ‘Holistic engineering and hydro-diplomacy in the Ganges-Brahmaputra-Meghna Basin’. Economic and Political Weekly, 44(45): 50–60. Bryant, R. 2015. The International Handbook of Political Ecology. Cheltenham, UK: Edward Elgar Publishing. Budds, J., & Hinojosa, L. 2012. ‘Restructuring and rescaling water governance in mining contexts: the co-production of waterscapes in Peru’. Water Alternatives, 5(1): 119–137. CGWB. 2014. Water Quality Issues and Challenges in Punjab. New Delhi: Ministry of Water Resources, Government of India. Chandrigarh, 2017. Provincial Workshop on Transboundary Issues of River Ravi between India and Pakistan [Interview] (February). Cook, C., Norman, E.S., & Cohen, A. 2015. Negotiating Water Governance: Why the Politics of Scale Matter. Newark, NJ and London: Routledge. Dinar, S. 2007. International Water Treaties: Negotiation and Cooperation along Transboundary Rivers. London: Routledge. Gosain, R. A. 2011. ‘Climate change impact assessment of water resources of India’. Current Science, 101(3): 356–371. Islam, S., & Susskind, L. 2013. Water Diplomacy: A Negotiated Approach to Managing Complex Water Networks. Newark, NJ: Routledge. Karpouzoglou, T., & Vij, S. 2017. ‘Waterscape: a perspective for understanding the contested geography of water’. WIREs Water, 4(3): 1–5. Lahore, 2017. Provincial Workshop on Transboundary Water Issues of River Ravi between India and Pakistan [Interview] (7th - 8th February 2017). Mustafa, D. 2007. ‘Social construct of hydropolitics: The geographical scales of water and security in the Indus Basin’. Geographical Review, 97(4): 484–501. Pandey, R. 2014. Groundwater Irrigation in Punjab: Issues and Way Forward. New Delhi: National Institute of Public Finance and Policy. Qutub S. A., et al. 2004. Water Sharing Conflicts within Countries, and Possible Solutions. WASSA Project Reports, Honolulu, HI: Global Environment and Energy in the 21st Century. Raiffa, H. 2007. Negotiation Analyses: The Science and Art of Collaborative Decision Making. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Sebenius, J. K. 1983. ‘Negotiation arithmetic: Adding and subtracting issues and parties’. International Organization, 37(2): 281–316. Sharma, H. K. 2014. ‘Assessing the impact of hydroelectric project construction on the rivers of District Chamba of Himachal Pradesh in the Northwest Himalaya, India’. International Research Journal of Social Sciences, 3(2): 21–25. Singh, N. D. 2010. ‘Rural healthcare and indebtedness in Punjab’. Economic and Political Weekly, 45(11): 22–25. Suhardiman, D. 2017. Water Governance and Collective Action. Abingdon and Oxon: Routledge and Earchscan.

‘Shared’ waterscapes  101 Swyngedouw, E. 1999. ‘Modernity and hybridity: nature, regeneracionismo, and the production of the Spanish Waterscape, 1890–1930’. Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 89(3): 443–465. WAPDA, 2018. River inflows in Pakistan, Pakistan Water and Power Development Authority, Lahore, Punjab, Pakistan s.l.: s.n. WWF-Pakistan. 2014. Situation Analysis of Water Resources in Lahore, Lahore: WWF-Pakistan. Zinzani, A., & Bichael, C. 2018. ‘IWRM and the politics of scale: Rescaling water governance in Uzbekistan’. Water, 10: 281.

5 Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin Contestations and cooperation Ajaya Dixit, Ashutosh Shukla, Shiraz A. Wajih and Bijay Singh On August 18, 2008, the Koshi River breached its eastern flood control embankment at Kushaha in Sunsari District, Nepal, 12 km north of the Koshi Barrage. Following the breach, the river flowed from Nepal’s Sunsari District into the six districts of Supaul, Madhepura, Saharsha, Arariya, Purnia and Khagaria in Bihar, India, flooding an area 15–20 km wide and approximately 200 km long. The flood affected 50,000 people in Nepal and a staggering 3.5 million people in North Bihar, damaging agriculture, livelihoods and infrastructure. It deposited sand on large tracks of agricultural land, rendering fields unfit for crop cultivation for several years (Figure 5.1). The breach and the ensuing flooding were not the result of abnormal monsoon rains, climate change–induced extremes or the outburst of a glacial lake in the headwaters. In fact, Nepal’s Department of Hydrology and Meteorology (DHM) records show that the river’s discharge at the time of the breach was less than its long-term average for August.1 The cause of the breach lay in mismanagement alone – namely, poorly maintained flood control embankments, seldom repaired since they were first built in the 1950s. This 2008 embankment breach is a useful event through which to introduce the challenges and complexities in the use and management of the Koshi River. The case illustrates the shortcomings of an over-reliance on technological interventions, which proved insufficient to avert disaster. The episode also demonstrates the need for transboundary management solutions. Indeed, the breach occurred on Nepali soil but its aftermath upended lives in both Nepal and India. This suggests that solutions to problems along the Koshi must necessarily involve coordination and cooperation between the riparian countries: China, Nepal and India. In the Koshi Basin, as elsewhere, water has become a ‘wicked problem’ which has many layers and whose solution depends on repeatedly achieving political consensus. A wicked problem is the result of many other problems, and a conventional response, like structural solutions, to such a complex tangle of problems is often inadequate. As will be discussed below, the conventional approach has fragmented the Koshi’s hydrological continuity instead of ensuring a balanced waterscape. Any new approach to water management – and one is greatly needed – should foster continuous engagement among different stakeholders across scales.

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  103

Figure 5.1  Schematic of the 2008 breach of eastern flood control embankment and spread. Source: Ajaya Dixit.

This chapter presents a political economy analysis of the Koshi Basin in order to elucidate the dynamic interactions among natural, social, political and economic systems, the processes involved in each system, and the goods and services that the interactions produce in the Basin. The analysis focuses in particular on stakeholders’ power to influence the use of water and its services, and how this power creates unequal distributions of social, economic and political benefits as well as risks. Unpacking these dynamics can help to begin conversations among actors and thereby identify ways forward. We identify ‘stakeholders’ differently than in a project regime, where a planned intervention has a predetermined goal to achieve, a defined boundary of geographical influence and an easily identifiable population that is to benefit from goods and services. By contrast, in a river basin such as the Koshi, the intertwining of natural ecosystems, the services they generate, and the users and managers of those resources render inter-linkages complex. Everyone who lives in the basin – and even those who live outside it – are all considered stakeholders. We define stakeholders as ‘entities and people who can influence the outcomes, who are affected by the outcomes or who have interest both as mediator and facilitator or as potential or distant beneficiary’ (World Bank 1996; DFID 2003). Using this definition, we

104  Ajaya Dixit et al. Table 5.1  Generic categories of stakeholders Category

Subcategory

Those who can affect outcome

Those who determine the policies and development context Those who implement policies, acts and regulations Those who are involved in development and delivery of services

Those who are affected by outcomes

Those who are affected directly

Those who are affected indirectly

Those with interest/ concern

Direct

Indirect interested/ concerned

Source: Dixit et al. (2017).

Individual/group/community/entity • Parliament/parliamentary committees • Central ministries • Provincial government ministries • Local government • Government’s planning and policy entities • Central government departments • Provincial government departments • Local government departments • Authorities and corporations • Developers • Clients/owners (government or private sector) • Investors • Project management team • Banks • Insurance companies • Contractors/subcontractors/ suppliers • Consultants • Households, groups and community members close to the project and/or terrestrial/riverine resources • Marginalised and ethnic groups whose livelihoods are dependent on terrestrial and aquatic resources • Ecological community (flora and fauna) • Specific demographic groups based on gender, age and occupation • Rural and urban groups away from the basin but dependent on the basin’s resources and services • Business and commercial entities located away but dependent on the basin’s resources, products and services • Environmental and civil society movements • Academics/research/think tanks/donors • Media • Future service users • Not directly dependent on basin’s resources but maintain citizens’ concerns • International community

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  105 present generic categories and subcategories of stakeholders, according to their roles and interests in influencing policy and their claims and abilities to do so (Table 5.1). We assume that government bureaucracies, civil society and community groups, the private sector and common users are key actors involved in the use and management of water and natural resources. Each group has a different and specific perspective, each of which must be accommodated in the water use and management policy space to achieve positive outcomes. In such a policy space, efforts must be made to promote creative engagement among the actors and ensure that no one perspective dominates. Our analysis looks at current and proposed interventions at different scales within the basin. We suggest that the conventional sectoral approach, aimed at differentiated uses such as irrigation, municipal supply, industrial supply, domestic supply and hydropower production, has promoted extractive development, degraded water sources and prioritised well-off urban users at the cost of rural users, the poor and the ecosystem. Constructive engagement among diverse stakeholders – including from the state, provincial and local levels and private sector and civic groups – is needed to identify a way forward toward the sustainable use of the basin resources.2 Such engagement will enable stakeholders to negotiate their interests, overcome differences and build cooperation. Especially as climate change multiplies risks, interventions are needed that prioritise equity, gender and social inclusion, and which consider the sustainability of riverine ecology and ecosystem services. This chapter is divided into six sections followed by the conclusion. The first section explains the historical context of the Koshi Agreement, which set the stage for the modern political economy of water use in the basin. The second section introduces the nature of the basin, its geography, climate, hydrology, land use and demography. The third through sixth sections discuss multiple uses across scales, the implications of the sectoral approach, states’ versus citizens’ interests and priorities at the transnational level. We conclude by identifying pathways by which to transit into a sustainable future that takes into consideration outstanding and emerging issues governing water use and management.

The Koshi River Basin In simple geographical terms, the Koshi Basin comprises just two physical forms, the hills and the plains. However, this chapter examines it in terms of three geographical units: (a) the region upstream of Chatara, the location in Nepal where the river debouches from the hills into the plains; (b) the region between Chatara and the Koshi Barrage, just upstream from the Nepal-India border; and (c) the region between the Koshi Barrage and Kursela in Bihar, where the Koshi River joins the Ganga. Specific details about the basin are as follows.

106  Ajaya Dixit et al. Physical system and geography The Koshi River Basin covers a total area of 95,156 km2, 25,800 km2 (27.11 per cent) of which lies in China. The basin area from Tibet to the Nepal–India border, where the Koshi Barrage is located, is 64,136 km2, meaning that the area within Nepal that contributes to flow at the barrage is 38,336 km2 (44.29 per cent). Of the eight sub-basins of the Koshi Basin upstream of the Nepal–India border, the Arun has the largest area (4,650 km2) and the Trijuga the smallest (706 km2). The area downstream of the Koshi Barrage is 31,020 km2 (32.59 per cent of the total), of which 11,070 km2 (11.63 per cent) comes from the Bagmati, Kamala and Bhutahi–Balan river basins (Figure 5.2). These figures seem precise, but in fact, in the plains of both Nepal and Bihar, individual watersheds cannot be precisely delineated because they overlap. Rivers change their courses as they flow north to south, splitting into distributaries that capture one or another channel of braided neighbouring streams. The Koshi Basin includes seven physiographic regions: the Tibetan ­Plateau, the High Himalaya, the High Mountains, the Middle and Lower Mountains (called the Mahabharat Range in Nepal), the Lower Hills or Siwalik (called the Chure Hills in Nepal), the alluvial plains of Nepal’s Tarai and the flood plains of Bihar. There are eleven mountain peaks with elevations above 8,000 m in the basin, including Mount Everest. From north to south, the terrain generally descends from Mount Everest’s 8,848 m to an elevation of just 95 m at the Nepal–India border. The basin’s climate varies dramatically from the tropical and subtropical areas of the Tarai plains to

Figure 5.2  Koshi Basin and Ganga River’s tributary basins in Nepal and Tibet. Source: Ajaya Dixit.

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  107 the alpine and tundra ecosystems of the High Mountains. The low river valleys in the Mahabharat Range and the Siwalik experience hot summers and cool winters. The Arun, a major tributary of the Koshi, drains the northern region of the basin and Tibet (China). The Sun Koshi flows from the western region of the catchment towards Tribeni, assimilating, as it goes, the Indrawati, the Bhote Koshi, the Tama Koshi, the Likhu and the Dudh Koshi. The Tamor drains the Koshi’s eastern catchment. The Arun, the Sun Koshi and the Tamor meet at Tribeni, where they form the Sapta Koshi. The Sapta Koshi then flows southward, cutting through the Mahabharat Range through a 10-km-long gorge, before debouching into the Tarai plains at Chatara and being joined by the Trijuga, its only tributary in the Nepal Tarai. The Sapta Koshi then flows for another 50 km in Nepal before flowing over the Koshi barrage and entering India. Downstream of the barrage, the river flows for about 100 km in Bihar, gradually taking an eastward course within embankments on both its banks. The Bagmati, Kamala and Bhutahi Balan rivers, all of which originate in Nepal, flow into the lower Koshi as rightbank tributaries (Figure 5.3). Climate and hydrology The southwesterly monsoon, which is active from June to September, brings large amounts of rainfall to the southern slopes of the Mahabharat and Chure ranges and snowfall to the higher Himalaya ranges of the basin. The Tibetan Plateau in the north of the Himalayas falls in the rain-shadow region of the Himalaya, so it receives relatively little precipitation, just 100–300 mm annually, but annual precipitation in the basin as a whole is about 1,800 mm, 80 per cent of which falls in the four monsoon months. The remaining 20 pe cent of precipitation is a result of westerly and pre-­ monsoon disturbances. Differences in elevation, slope and aspect produce macro-, meso-, and micro-scale variations in temperature and rainfall. Sudden cloudbursts producing 500 mm of rainfall in a day are not unusual in the catchment. People suggest that rainfall patterns in the basin are changing and historical trends confirm these observations. It is difficult to verify these changes using scientific methods, however, as there are just sixty-two rainfall stations in the basin and they are sparsely located.3 While the data these stations produce allow us to assess the stock and flow of water in the basin with some degree of accuracy, it is not possible to examine microlevel details because there are simply too few stations and rainfall at the sub-watershed, and smaller spatial levels have to be extrapolated from the limited data available. The snow-fed and non-snow-fed rivers in the basin exhibit a consistent pattern of high flows during the monsoon followed by low flows during dry winter months. The daily flow records in the Koshi River at Chatara indicate that flow begins to rise in April–May and peaks in August. The Arun contributes about 30 per cent of the flow of the Koshi River at Tribeni,

108  Ajaya Dixit et al.

Figure 5.3  The Koshi Basin. Source: Dixit et al. 2017.

while the Sun Koshi contributes slightly more than the Tamor at the same location. The peak flow generally occurs when meteorological processes synchronise in the catchment and every section of the basin contributes to runoff in the river. Such a synchronicity created the floods of 1954, when peak flow magnitude at Chatara reached about 24,241 m3/s. Fourteen years later, in August 1968, Koshi’s eastern catchment was hit by a tropical cyclone that generated a maximum peak flow of 26,000 m3/s (GoI 1981).4

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  109 These peak flows were almost six times higher than the discharge of the Koshi River when the 2008 breach at Kushaha occurred, making it clear that the 2008 breach resulted from other non-meteorological factors, as explained above. At Chatara, the Koshi has a mean annual flow of 1,400 m3/s. Its dry season flow can be as low as 250 m3/s and average wet season as high as 5,000 m3/s. During peak floods, the water level of the Koshi at Chatara can rise by 7 to 10 m in less than 24 hours. In the smaller tributaries of the Koshi, the impact of flooding is localised but can become widespread when the amount, extent and/or duration of rainfall increase. The Koshi River transfers a very high sediment load derived from various natural sources and processes, such as moraines, landslides, mass-wasting, gullying and the cutting of the tributary rivers’ bed and banks. The tributaries of the Koshi bring sediment from all these various sources to Chatara, at which point the gradient is low enough that coarse sediments start being deposited intermittently. Downstream of Chatara an inland alluvial fan causes the river to move laterally. The Koshi is estimated to transport about 120 million m3 of sediment from the upper to the lower regions of the basin every year. Of this amount, about 95 per cent is transported downstream during the monsoon.5 In the Koshi’s headwaters in Nepal and Tibet are 36 glaciers and 296 glacial lakes that feed the Koshi’s seven tributaries—Indrawati, Sun Koshi, Tama Koshi, Likhu, Dudh Koshi, Arun and Tamor. The melting of the glaciers into the lakes makes GLOFs a possibility. In the past, there were many GLOFs. The most dramatic was the breach of the Dig Tsho in 1984. Measures to reduce water levels have been implemented in Tsho Rolpa and Imja glacial lakes in order to reduce the risk of an outburst and the instantaneous flood that follows it. In the Koshi Basin and in the Himalaya as a whole, the depletion of glaciers and the reduction in snowfall associated with climate changes will likely have long-term consequences for the region’s hydrology, with negative impacts cascading through the region’s social and economic contexts.6 Land use and changes In the Koshi Basin, agriculture is the dominant land use (34.73 per cent of the total area is arable) followed by grassland (26.83 per cent) and forest (22.65 per cent). In the lower regions of the basin in Nepal and in Bihar, the area devoted to agriculture has increased slightly (by about 1 per cent) over the past thirty years. In the hills and mountains, irrigated agriculture is practiced only in river valleys, on old river terraces (Tar land) and on terraced hill slopes. About 6 per cent of the area of the basin is snow-covered and 8 per cent is barren, including land affected by floods and landslides. Forest area has decreased slightly over the past thirty years but with significant differences between the hills and the plains. Improved community forest management practices have had success in increasing forest cover in the Nepali mountains and hills, while in the Tarai community, forestry

110  Ajaya Dixit et al. has had minimal success (Chaudhary & Sah 2016).7 In Bihar, on the other hand, most of the forest has been exploited and only a few patches are left.8 Between 1990 and 2010, the area of water bodies in the Koshi Basin has also declined by nearly 28 per cent, implying that freshwater ecosystems are being degraded.9 The combination of dramatic changes in elevation and rainfall gradients creates diverse habitats for many flora and fauna species in the Koshi Basin region. Water-based ecosystems such as rivers, wetlands, lakes, swamps and marshes generate productive provisioning services that support forests for wood, fish for consumption, water for drinking and medicinal plants and other natural products that support local livelihoods.10 Demography and population The Koshi River flows through one of the most densely populated areas in the Nepal Tarai and Bihar. Forty-four per cent of Nepal’s total population lives within the Koshi Basin.11 According to the 2011 census of Nepal, the total population of the basin within Nepal is just over 11.5 million, 49.6 per cent men and 50.4 per cent women, while in India, 44.85 per cent of Bihar population (46,690,000) lives in the Koshi Basin. Population density is lowest in the mountain region, higher in the hills and highest in the Tarai plains. The population is ethnically diverse, with complex social (caste) stratification (Khadka et al. 2014). The basin’s demographic composition consists of Brahmin, Chhetri, Janajati, Yadav, Muslim and occupational castes. Approximately 50 per cent of the population lacks access to electricity, improved drinking water or sanitation services. Agriculture, the main source of livelihoods in the basin, is undergoing rapid changes. People are shifting from subsistence farming to the service sector and market-based agriculture to diversify their income sources. Short- and long-term labour migration is also changing household economies by providing remittance income and contributing to the feminisation of agricultural activities. This latter phenomenon increases both the workload and the responsibilities of women. Many parts of the basin experience seasonal water scarcity. Erratic rainfall means that droughts can occur even during the monsoon season. For example, along the northern region of the Mahabharat range, which lies on the Sun Koshi corridor, rain-shadow effects mean that rainfall is persistently lower than the national average, leading to regular droughts and seasonal water scarcity, but also floods. Frequently, floods are followed by droughts that cause crops to fail and fodder for livestock to become scarce. The high risk of climate disasters exacerbates existing socio-economic challenges emanating from a low average literacy rate, social exclusion, migration and poverty. In the lower Koshi Basin, waterlogging, bank cutting and inundation cause widespread human suffering.

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  111

Historical context During the colonial period, the British called the Koshi River “The ­Sorrow of Bihar” because of frequent floods, thereby portraying it as a source of destruction and misery rather than as a valuable source of support for the livelihoods of millions of people living in its basin, from the headwaters in Tibet and Nepal and to the flood plains of Nepal and North Bihar. One outcome of depicting the Koshi as a source of destruction and misery was that the colonial government focused its attention on minimising flooding through structural interventions. In 1891, British engineers proposed that embankments be built along both sides of the river to prevent it from overtopping its banks. This proposal was debated for a long time, and an alternative was also proposed: the construction of a high dam in Barahakchetra, Nepal. The dam would store the Koshi’s water, attenuate flood peaks and regulate flow while simultaneously generating hydroelectricity and providing irrigation and other benefits. There was, however, no consensus about the wisdom of building a dam: not only would its cost be prohibitive, but a dam of this scale had never been built in the subcontinent, let alone in Nepal. The proposed site – in a zone of high seismic risk – posed an additional challenge.12 The debate between high dam and embankments continued for over 50 years, from 1891 to 1947, without arriving at any consensus despite many meetings. This approach was based on the water resource development paradigm that evolved in the early twentieth century in western United States and in the centralised irrigation development approach adopted in the mid-nineteenth century in colonial South Asia. In South Asia, this approach, particularly to develop modern canals, was guided by the desire to fulfil four objectives: (a) extending supplemental irrigation; (b) revenue generation; (c) use of the canals for commercial operation of steam boats; and (d) administrative control of water allocation and management.13 Water laws in the United States, on the other hand, ‘emphasized economic development by encouraging utilitarian approaches to putting the West’s rivers to work— storing water for use during dry periods; moving water over the landscape to satisfy human demands; and maximizing a limited number of “beneficial” uses such as irrigation, municipal, industrial, and domestic supplies.’14 It was assumed that water should flow towards settlements for human use and financial gains.15 Five years after India got its independence from Britain, during the monsoon season of 1953, North Bihar faced a devastating flood that demanded immediate attention. In the meantime, India’s erstwhile Central Water and Power Commission had prepared a design for a barrage project at H ­ anuman Nagar on the Nepal-India border, 48 km downstream of Chatara. The project included embankments on both sides of the river and canals on the east and west sides of the barrage to irrigate lands mostly in India. Taking

112  Ajaya Dixit et al. advantage of the drop in elevation, a hydropower plant was to be built in the Eastern Canal. On December 14, 1953, the Indian Parliament formally approved the design, and a few months later, on April 25, 1954, Nepal and India signed the Koshi Agreement. The agreement set the stage for implementation despite the criticism, and the treaty became a source of debate between the people and project authorities of both countries.16 In India, questions were raised related to the project’s focus on engineering solutions that were arrived at without a full understanding of the nature of the river, its rate of sedimentation, its hydrology and, most importantly in the eyes of the project’s opponents, the riparian needs of both the countries. Hydrologists, geologists, hydraulic engineers and local leaders had questioned the appropriateness of embankments and a barrage in providing long-term flood-control. These sceptics voiced concerns stemming in part from the fact that the Koshi River transports one of the highest sediment loads of any river in South Asia and in part because there were deficiencies in the extent of geo-hydrological and climate information. Despite their reservations, however, embankments and a barrage were constructed in response to the dominant political interests of the period. While bureaucrats were guided by the project’s costs and benefits, technocrats maintained that an infrastructural solution could address the problem provided that the solution was based on a sound assessment of the ground realities. In Nepal, there was little conceptual debate about the chosen infrastructural option, the location of the barrage or the sharing of water and riverine resources. Rather, criticism of the Koshi Agreement in Nepal focused on four issues: (1) the fact that India had greater irrigation and flood control benefits than Nepal did, (2) the extraterritorial rights given to India to control land and water in Nepal, (3) inadequate compensation for land acquired for the project, and (4) the interference of project officials in the internal affairs in Nepal. Project-affected people expressed extreme dissatisfaction with delays in the receipt of compensation for the land acquired by the project and with the temporary disturbances associated with various activities. The loss of control over land to India was seen as a loss of Nepal’s ‘sovereignty’. Nepal’s left-leaning political parties accused Matrika Prasad Koirala, who was then the prime minister, of having buckled under Indian pressure and of compromising the county’s sovereignty by signing the agreement.17 In 1966, India demonstrated an appreciation of Nepali sentiments, and the agreement was revised to address the concerns and provide additional benefits to Nepal.18 In particular, roads were built from Hanuman Nagar to Rajbiraj (10.4 km) and from Fatehpur to Kunauli (41.6 km), and India agreed to supply 10 MW of electricity to Nepal at reduced tariff rates through the Kataiya powerhouse on the Eastern Koshi Canal (though it only generated about 4 MW). The barrage and related structures provided local flood protection and made the malaria-infested swamps in parts of the Tarai habitable. The barrage functioned as a bridge across the Koshi, linking eastern Nepal, including Biratnagar, to the rest of the country.19 The

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  113 government of India (GoI) also agreed to provide technical and financial support to construct the 21 MW Trishuli hydroelectric project in a separate basin north of Kathmandu, a project that supplied power to the Nepali grid. However, dissatisfaction remains common in Nepal and the Koshi Agreement continues to inspire resentment (Figure 5.4). Construction of the barrage, embankments, canals and other structures was completed between 1959 and 1964. The eastern and western embankments were built in the first phase and the Koshi barrage in the second. The Eastern Koshi Canal and the hydropower plant at Kataiya were completed in the third phase, as was the Chatara Canal, which provided irrigation services to land in Nepal’s Sunsari and Morang districts. The last stage involved the construction of the Western Koshi Canal. Because the Koshi project aimed for flood control, its interventions focused on the lowland regions of the basin. The upper watershed was seen mostly as a source of sediment that exacerbated flood hazard. It was suggested that conservation measures be implemented to minimise soil erosion and transport to the river. Rainfall and snowfall in the catchment were other processes of concern. Precipitation data was sought so that estimates of probable maximum floods could be made for use in designing the storage capacity and spillway of the proposed high dam and the waterways in the barrage.

Figure 5.4  The Koshi Project: system and service area. Source: Dixit 2008.

114  Ajaya Dixit et al. Unfortunately, the Koshi Project’s flood control infrastructure has proven ineffective: the Koshi embankments have breached eight times since they were constructed, including the last major breach in 2008, which marked the failure of conventional ways of controlling floods (Dixit 2009).20 The development and utilisation of the Koshi River led to discontent rather than stewardship and cooperation, burdening both the Indian and the Nepali governments and their respective agencies and impacting communities on both sides of the border. Local people who were promised safety from floods have become dissatisfied with both governments. The Koshi Project established the prevailing approach to water use, which endures today. Under this approach, managers assume that river water will continue to be available in perpetuity and meet many needs, marginalising concerns about the conservation of riverine ecosystems and freshwater biodiversity in the basin. Stakeholders, including national governments, agencies, decision-makers and people on both sides of political and geographical boundaries, fail to engage in regular conversation about a holistic approach to the river and its water. Instead, discussion focuses on deriving benefits from the resources in an extractive fashion. In the worldview of state agencies and governments, water is seen as a source of economic benefits; related social and environmental issues receive low priority or are ignored altogether. At all scales – local, sub-basin, regional, national and international – there is an absence of creative solutions that will address challenges and sustain the economic, social and environmental functions of the river over the long term. Today, the context of Koshi Basin in Nepal and Bihar has changed significantly. First, with the increase in the penetration of the communication technology, access to information has substantially improved. Second, in Nepal, hydropower development has emerged as a major area of investment. The aim is to generate the electricity the country itself needs as well as to export it. New proposals have also included diverse elements such as the storage and regulated release of water from the Koshi and its tributaries to augment dry-season flow, inter-basin transfer, navigation, forest and wildlife conservation, restoration of riverine ecology and mitigation of glacial lake outburst flood (GLOF) risks. In India, in contrast, flood control has become a priority because of the impacts of climate change. Nepal’s new federal governance structure implies that a new social, political and economic order is likely to evolve around water usage and management. These changes offer opportunities but also pose constraints in a context marked by high levels of climatic, social and political volatility.

Multiple uses across scales People have intervened in waterscapes since time immemorial, both individually and collectively, to harness and use water for various purposes. Ideally, approaches to water resource management must consider three dimensions: (1) water as an economic good; (2) maintaining quantity, quality

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  115 and ecosystem integrity while meeting current and future demand; and (3) ensuring social equity in the resource’s development and management. The conventional approach to water development conceived it solely as an economic good, leading to some benefits but also many problems. The approach has increased access to water for domestic, industrial and commercial uses; it expanded the area under irrigation and increased the amount of hydroelectricity generated. To some extent, in the short term, embankments have provided some respite from floods. In the longer term, however, they have brought damage and destitution. This conventional approach has also resulted in an increase in the pollution of surface and groundwater, causing irreversible changes in riverine ecology and the loss of freshwater biodiversity. In many places, seasonal water scarcity has increased, and the reduction of river flow has significantly affected the well-being of downstream human and ecological communities. The development of large-scale reservoirs has inundated agricultural land, forests and natural and cultural sites, leading to the involuntary displacement of some segments of the population. With the growth of urban, industrial and commercial areas, untreated solid and liquid wastes are frequently discharged into rivers and other inland water bodies. Under the conventional approach, the social and environmental costs of interventions were both inadequately accounted for and unmitigated. The conventional approach also brought about a shift in the nature of water governance from a localised to a centralised process, where bureaucracies now play multiple roles as developers, regulators and managers of water. The state has not created an environment conducive to innovative investment or operation by the private sector. More importantly, the minimal attention the state has given to community-based systems has exacerbated imbalances in the water sector. Though public policies do recognise the importance of social capital, indigenous knowledge systems and people’s participation in the management of water and other natural resources, their efforts are limited to the local scale. Scaling up such efforts would require major institutional transition and the pursuit of more ecologically sensitive approaches. In Nepal, the promulgation of the Hydropower Development Policy in 1992 and the Electricity Act in 1993 created space for both the domestic and the international private sector to invest in hydropower development. At present, hydropower occupies a central position in Nepal’s water resource development strategy. However, development of hydroelectricity is not yet seen as a means of production that would create employment, provide income opportunities or boost well-being. A reliable source of energy is needed to operate industries, promote trade and commerce, support economic activities and generate a strong tax base to fund social and economic development activities. The current focus on supply-side solutions in hydroelectricity has come at the cost of other uses and the neglect of social, cultural and ecological functions of rivers.

116  Ajaya Dixit et al. The Bhote Koshi River, a tributary of the Sapta Koshi, is a case in point. Tourism entrepreneurs have raised concerns over the construction of the Middle Bhote Koshi Hydropower Project, which they argue will change the flow of the river and its morphology in the downstream reaches, thereby reducing opportunities for using the river for whitewater rafting and canoeing. Both activities offer opportunities for tourism enterprises and, in turn, support people’s livelihoods in significant ways. Tourism entrepreneurs argue that the economic benefit of using rivers to promote tourism is just as great, or even greater, than the benefits accrued from generating hydropower. This example suggests there is an urgent need for better accounting of trade-offs between different water uses, ranging from hydropower to agriculture, ecosystem services, tourism and industries. Investment in one sector must not deprive other uses and functions of a river.

The pursuit of a sectoral approach Though the Koshi Project did recognise the role water plays in providing the benefits of irrigation, hydroelectricity, flood control and fisheries, development of these uses was undertaken independently rather than in cooperation. Confining the Koshi River between embankments has not only fragmented the riverine ecosystem but has also exacerbated flood damage. Embankment construction undermined the tradition of community-managed small-scale irrigation systems that had supported the agricultural practices of farmers for centuries. Some traditional systems were integrated into new, larger systems constructed by the government, but in the process their services have deteriorated as the tension between the indigenous and modern systems invariably led to the ruin of the former.21 Today, farmers are dependent on irrigation systems operated by bureaucracies, and they have little influence over decisions about how to operate and manage irrigation canals. The prevailing paradigm thus creates barriers to cooperation and to the co-production of knowledge for effective water stewardship. In South Asia, the management of water resources is fragmented across different sectors, including irrigation, hydropower, water supply and sanitation, watershed management, river training and flood control, and terrestrial and aquatic biodiversity conservation. This trend dates to the colonial period. As separate bureaucratic entities emerged for land, revenue, agriculture, trade and inland navigation, different facets of water management became siloised within different departments (Sen 2019). Each pursued topdown actions, simplifying the complex and interconnected local realities for meeting governance needs (Scott 1998). Despite increasing emphasis on farmer participation and integration, institutional culture has continued to favour engineering solutions over social ones (Wescoat et al. 2000).22 Three problematic aspects of the fragmented, sectoral approach to water management are: (1) the organisations responsible for different aspects of water management tend to work in isolation; (2) technology and infrastructure are considered a panacea to all water problems, while processes

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  117 that affect production, distribution and demand are considered peripheral; and (3) each sector seeks to demonstrate its own importance and legitimacy at the cost of others, leading to conflict. Technological determinism brings its own set of problems including siloed actions evident in the sectoral approach. That said, in Nepal, policy initiatives like the GoN’s 2002 Water Resources Strategy (WRS) and the 2005 National Water Plan (NWP) have, in theory, aimed to reverse the sectoral approach. Both the WRS and the NWP espouse the holistic approach of integrated water resource management (IWRM), considering water in its natural state as well as its production and distribution within the country. However, neither the WRS nor the NWP have been sufficiently implemented, and the sectoral approach continues to reign supreme. In 2009, the Ministry of Water Resources was split into Ministry of Irrigation (MoI) and Ministry of Energy (MoE), each continued to vie for status and to pursue a sectoral rather than a holistic development agenda. Though they have been re-clubbed as the Ministry of Energy, Water Resources and Irrigation, (MoEWRI) responsibilities continue to be divided among multiple agencies at the sub-ministry level. While the Department of Hydrology (DHM) is responsible for collecting data on river hydrology and issuing weather forecasts and flood warnings, the Department of Water-Induced Disaster Management (DoWIDM) plans and executes river training and flood mitigation work along river channels, and the Department of Soil Conservation and Watershed Management (DoSCWM) plans and executes soil conservation and watershed management activities in the headwater region. High-level officials argue that because sectoral ministries and departments already work within distinct territorial and operational boundaries without interfering with each other, Nepal does not need to espouse the IWRM approach.23 The IWRM approach remains more or less theoretical, unable to address competing claims on water pushed by specific constituencies using their political power. Small-scale IWRM programmes at the level of settlements or single irrigation or drinking water supply systems have not been scaled up or replicated due to challenges related to coordination, territoriality and opposition from centralised authority (Moench et al. 2003). The pervasive role of water in all spheres of human life, its complexity and the competing claims result in a contested arena that is difficult to arbitrate and manage.24 In India, water is a state matter, and interstate issues are dealt with by the Union Government. The Centre Water Commission (CWC), a national entity, is entrusted with broad responsibilities like initiating, coordinating and promoting flood management, irrigation, drinking water supply and water power generation. In Bihar, the CWC acts in coordination with various state-level government ministries and departments. Bihar’s Water Resources Department (WRD) is responsible for major and medium-sized irrigation projects, flood management, drainage management and command area development. The departments of Urban Development and of Rural Development

118  Ajaya Dixit et al. deal with water supply and sanitation issues in urban and rural areas, respectively. Pollution of surface and groundwater and watershed management are dealt with by Ministry of Environment. Inter-agency coordination is weak, so the management of water resources is fragmented across sectors. The weaknesses of the sectoral approach are clearly demonstrated in the construction of transportation infrastructure in both Nepal and India. Many of the roads, railroads, bridges, irrigation canals, drainage channels and embankments in the flood plains of Nepal and Bihar were constructed after the Koshi Agreement was signed. These interventions have altered the local drainage pattern. In a flood plain, roads and other infrastructure are built across the drainage pattern, often without providing sufficient way for water to flow. The construction of a road reduces the infiltration rate and concentrates run-off, which in turn accelerates the gullying and toe-cutting of slopes. In the hills, roads trigger major landslides, contributing to the sedimentation of rivers and drying-up of springs and stream sources. These broad effects are rarely considered by the government department or body responsible for building the roads. Infrastructure for irrigation, water supply and hydropower is constructed in a similar sectoral manner. Water and sediment flows are assessed at a specific location in a stream, but the upstream watershed that feeds the stream is rarely considered – despite the fact that degradation of a watershed causes changes in flow and sediment that affect infrastructure in the downstream reaches. In some cases, the infrastructure may even be rendered unusable due to heavy sedimentation. Changes in water availability have grossly lowered the performance of irrigation projects. Likewise, river training and flood control programmes involve embankments rather than river management. While embankments do provide immediate respite, they risk creating larger disasters in the future as rivers change due to upstream hydrological and sediment processes. The case of the seasonal Khando River in Nepal’s Saptari District is telling. An embankment was built along the river in an effort to avert floods, but it collapsed within the first year of construction because its design did not provide adequate drainage. The embankments also led to the deposition of sediments and, as a result, impeded flood drainage from the outside. Local people opined that they were better off before the embankment was built in 2007. The sectoral approach has become so predominant that even irrigation and agriculture are separated into distinct departments, hampering the production of healthy crops. Poor coordination between irrigation and agricultural authorities means that farmers’ plans for irrigation and institutions’ schedules for canal operations do not always match. As a result, canals often supply too little water when crops need it and too much when they do not. Either way, standing crops are damaged and the productivity of irrigated areas is reduced. Sometimes, maintenance work is performed on canals just when the water requirements of the areas it serves are at their peak. By the time the maintenance is completed, planting time is over and the farmers miss out. This type of poor coordination is commonplace in

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  119 canals built under the Koshi project in both Nepal and Bihar. Without a reliable water supply, farmers have little incentive to invest in agricultural innovation, plant high-value crop varieties or spend more on agricultural inputs. Instead, farmers on both sides of the border are increasingly investing in bore wells and installing mechanised pumps to use groundwater for irrigating their crops.

States’ and citizens’ interests The effective management of water resources demands the continuous exchange, collaboration and participation of citizens in decision-making and actions at all levels. Such participation can help the state and its citizenry to develop a shared understanding. It must establish opportunities to design and implement programmes that meet local needs and priorities and make use of local knowledge and practices. Unfortunately, states’ and citizens’ interests often collide. In South Asia, the link between the state and its citizenry is generally based on a historical legacy of a patron-and-client relationships, within which the state functions as the owner and regulator of resources and the executor of programmes. Citizens, for their part, seek services that the state provides based on certain norms and standards. Participatory planning for development is an arena in which a state and its citizens can engage each other in the governance and management of water and other natural resources. Although the region has a rich tradition in the community-based management of natural resources, such an approach is not used to manage transboundary water. The interests of the state and its citizens collide on several fronts. Contestation results from differences in their worldviews of resources and their utilisation and includes the designing of programmes to obtain benefits from resources. Their management styles also differ. The first level of contestation emerges regarding the ownership of resources. Citizens, by virtue of their proximity to resources, function as both custodians and appropriators of resources. They tend to claim ownership of resources by default, while the state pursues the de jure provisions which vest the ultimate ownership of natural resources in the state. The second level of contestation emerges from citizens’ interest in using natural resources to meet their immediate livelihood needs while the state tends to focus on developing a resource over a longer time frame to secure large-scale social, economic and political benefits. The state tends to choose technical solutions and matching institutional arrangements while citizens choose less complicated infrastructure, technology and institutions responsive to their needs. These choices tend to pit the state against its citizens, resulting in limited opportunities for the co-production of knowledge and solutions in resonance with the social-­ ecological system. In the Koshi Basin, many instances of contestation complicate the management of water and other natural resources. The indifference of the Indian

120  Ajaya Dixit et al. and Nepali governments to annual flood damage, for example, perpetuates the misery of people on both sides of the border. Solutions for mitigating floods are also a source of contestation. Citizens are aware of the poor quality of the services that they receive from the state before, during and after a flood event. They expect state agencies to, for example, complete repairs on and the maintenance of the embankments, canals, roads and other infrastructures before monsoon floods arrive, as such acts of preparedness minimise the impacts of a potential flood. They also expect state agencies to be prepared for rescue and relief tasks before floods arrive and to extend such services to affected families. During the post-flood period, they expect the state to provide help to restore damaged livelihoods and basic services in the shortest time possible. However, both Nepali and Indian state agencies have repeatedly failed to meet citizens’ expectations. Broadly, each government remains unprepared to manage the multifarious impacts of floods, and every monsoon, civil society and humanitarian agencies have to bridge the gap in rescue-and-relief efforts. More than twelve years after the 2008 embankment breach floods, victims in both Nepal and Bihar are still seeking support for rehabilitation. In Nepal, state agencies often aim to restrict or regulate citizens’ access to riverine resources even though citizens’ livelihoods are integrally linked with these resources. One such area of contestation is the Koshi Tappu Wildlife Reserve, located within the watershed of the lower Koshi River. Local residents around the Tappu are dependent on the goods and services provided by the reserve, including fodder and forage, fish, thatch, building materials, and wild fruits and vegetables. The area is also important for the conservation of riverine species, especially the endangered wild buffalo and migratory birds that visit the wetland. After the government acquired land that belonged to the people in the surrounding villages to establish the reserve, people’s movement within the area was restricted. This is an ongoing source of conflict in the lower Koshi region, demonstrating the limitations of conservation efforts that ignore the livelihood needs of local people.

Diverse transnational interests The national and transnational priorities are also different. The interests of the state agencies and the citizens of Bihar centre on holding as much excess monsoon water in Nepali territory as possible, while people in the Nepal Tarai seek to let excess water flow downstream as quickly as possible. The two sides generally enter into a blame game – each blames the other for causing flooding in its territory. Both people and state agencies propose constructing technically unrealistic infrastructure, such as embankments, along the Nepal–India border. In fact, in many locations along the border, the state agencies of Bihar downstream of Koshi Basin in Nepal have actually constructed embankments that constrain the flow of flood waters, causing localised inundation on the Nepal side of the border.25 People and state agencies in India fail to appreciate that water flows in downhill pathways

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  121 determined by the natural topography, and that obstructions built across the direction of flow aggravate the risk of flooding. Unfortunately, present institutional arrangements lead to dysfunction (Shrestha et al. 2010), and local realities are filtered and business as usual persists. The outcomes deteriorate ecological landscape, exacerbating problems rather than solving them.26 The interests of the Nepali state and its agencies centre on producing energy from the flowing water. This interest emanates from a belief, propagated since the 1950s, that Nepal has so much potential to generate hydropower that it could not possibly use it all and could thus export it for a profit. To address the deficit in power supply, the Nepali state and its agencies focused on investing in medium and large hydropower projects while ignoring the importance of freshwater and freshwater biodiversity, the economic opportunities water resources create through tourism, and the cultural uses of the river’s waterscape. All uses of water other than hydropower are considered low priority. Agencies involved in hydropower development argue that downstream livelihoods will not be undermined in any significant way because hydroelectricity generation is a non-consumptive use of water. While this argument is valid in some ways, it ignores the fact that diverting water for electricity generation does have local impacts on dewatered river reaches, where the alteration in local hydrology can have a serious impact on ecosystem services.

Conclusions The water-related issues in the Koshi Basin are embedded within a complex socio-political canvass. The fundamental challenge is one of governance, particularly the foundations on which day-to-day decisions and courses of action rest. Given the high degree of uncertainty and variability, it is difficult to engage in comprehensive and long-term planning anywhere, let alone in the Koshi Basin, where both natural and social conditions are changing quickly. In fact, it is not possible to design plans that will solve all future water problems. Instead, it is necessary to build institutional capacity to respond to local and regional, short- and medium-term, and political, economic and technical constraints. Arriving at a solution requires having access to information, neutral forums for discussion, transparent ­decision-making processes, legal and regulatory mechanisms, ways to resolve disputes, improved policy-making and executive capabilities, and accountable governance.27 Solutions should start by recognising the complexity of the problems faced, and the need for more holistic knowledge and learning. Geologically and seismically, the Koshi Basin is a fragile region that is one of the most complex systems in the world. The people living in the basin are among the poorest in South Asia and are increasingly finding that their livelihoods are under stress. The nature of water challenges, the social systems, the governance realms and the appropriateness of different strategies of water

122  Ajaya Dixit et al. management differ from context to context – and there are many in such a diverse basin. Unfortunately, few resources have been invested in improving knowledge about the water systems of the basin and better understanding these emerging stresses. The conventional approach has no doubt built the technical capacity to manipulate the stock and flow of rivers as well as to pump water from deep underground in a way that was not possible fifty years ago. However, even as technological capacity has advanced, water problems have become more entrenched and complex. Seasonal scarcity of water has increased, and low-income families are forced to spend much of their incomes to purchase water. The lack of sufficient water has, in fact, become a major cause of the loss of livelihoods among low-income families. During the monsoon season, floods disproportionately affect the economically disadvantaged and the marginalised. Households and communities in the vicinity of a project have lost their land, their homes and their livelihoods, either partially or fully, and when the project was being built, they had to deal with negative impacts on their cultural and religious practices, too. In many places, people migrate seasonally and even permanently as droughts have become pronounced. Often, these dislocations exacerbate prevailing economic hardships as well as social and gender disparities. There is insufficient recognition of the fact that upstream diversions of water for hydropower generation and irrigation reduce downstream flow, thereby posing a cost to downstream communities by affecting their livelihoods as well as impairing healthy riverine ecosystems. The 2008 embankment breach cited at the beginning of this chapter demonstrates just how difficult managing the Koshi River is. The breach was an outcome of an inappropriate technological choice, politics, a deficit in governance, a highly stratified social context and institutional dysfunction. The completion of the embankments, barrage and canals of the Koshi Project resulted in the large-scale modification of the stock and flow of the river in the name of controlling floods. The mismatch between this approach and the natural, social governance and management contexts has prevented the desired benefits from accruing. Continuing to pursue such an approach to management brings with it risks that will disproportionately affect local communities, ecosystems and future generations. While the availability of technology, finances and other wherewithal makes the modification of stock and flow possible, and while it is likely that some sectoral benefits will accrue, the current approach will perpetuate inequity and the degradation of water and other natural resources unless there is a fundamental reform in governance as well as in social and institutional processes. Our quest for sustainability in the Koshi Basin must start with the fact that water, through its ecosystem services, plays a multifunctional role in nature and society. We must recognise that the conventional sectoral approach to water development, which considers water only as an economic resource, has promoted extractive development that has benefitted well-off urban users but neglected the poor, rural users and ecosystems. Policies

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  123 on equity, gender and social inclusion and on environmental sustainability have been proposed, but they need to be translated into actions at the basin level. Climate change multiplies risks, as it causes changes in both local and regional hydrological cycles. The pursuit of new approaches for water stewardship requires continuous engagement among decision-makers at the state, provincial and local levels and should include the private sector and civic groups. Stakeholders, including national governments, sectoral agencies, local decision-makers and people who live within the Koshi Basin, need to engage in conversation across disciplinary, political and geographical boundaries. This can create opportunities for learning that will help to identify solutions suitable for the local, sub-basin, regional, national and international scales. The primary responsibility for pursuing creative engagement rests with the state agencies and governments. They must be guided by the philosophy of harnessing water for achieving the larger public good while remaining open to the concerns of those stakeholders who seek to increase social inclusion and play the role of environmental stewards, thereby minimising negative externalities.

Acknowledgement The authors wish to thank The Asia Foundation for supporting the initial research of this chapter

Notes 1 The discharge at Chatara upstream of Kushaha was 4,080 m3/s lower than the average flow in August, which is about 4,729 m3/s (DHM 2008). 2 We conceive sustainability of water resource base to be a philosophy based on passing on undiminished in quantity and quality to other users and future generations while maintaining all water bodies in healthy condition (Moench et al. 1999). 3 According to DHM, upper watershed of the Koshi Basin has sixty-two stations (consisting of synoptic, agrometeorological and precipitation stations). Details on number of recording stations in the basin are unclear and need further works. See http://dhm.gov.np/meteorological-station. 4 The peak flow data measured at the barrage and maintained by Supaul administration, Bihar, is available from 1964 to 2015. These peaks are higher than the flood discharge on the day of the breach. In fact, in July 2008, few weeks before the breach, the peak flow at the barrage was 6,835 m3/s (Flow at Kushaha 4,080 m3/s). These lead to surmise that the breach was an outcome human-induced factors rather than climatic ones. The maximum peak discharge data measured by the administration at barrage in 1968 was 22,341.27 m3/s lower than the peak at Chatara (GoI 1981). Systematic comparison of peak flows at Chatara and the barrage can provide useful insights on the flood response behavior of the river in that stretch of the Koshi River. 5 The sediment load estimates of Koshi varies. From 1947 to 1981, the Government of India measured suspended sediment load at Chatara yielding an average annual discharge of 95 million cubic metres (GoI 1981). Sediment measurement process excludes high concentration of sediment load in a river occurring after,

124  Ajaya Dixit et al. say, a glacial lake outburst flood or breach of a landslide dam. By and large, bed load is not measured. Recognising this factor, we have added 20 per cent in the measured average and estimated that the total average annual sediment load at Chatara would be 120 million cubic metres. A 2019 study has suggested a lower load. Sinha et al. (2019) estimate, ‘a total of 100 million tonnes of annual sediment load at Chatara’. If we assume specific gravity of sediment ranging from 1.4 (HPC 1989) to 2.65 (Garde and Raju 1977), 100 million tonnes estimated by the study would be equivalent to 71.4 to 37.7 million cubic metres of sediment loads. Both are lower than that average load at Chatara measured by GoI. The variation is due to intermittent data sets, quality of data, very episodic monitoring with inherent gaps, limitations of the monitoring process, measurement and instrumental errors, and assumptions made. Thus, error margins in the measured data are significant. A natural consequence water flow within the hydrological cycle, sedimentation poses risks to hydraulic structures and depletes live storage of a reservoir. The deposition of sand lowers productivity of land, while silt load, the finer part of sedimentation, when deposited, enhances productivity. The science of sedimentation, however, has received little institutional attention in the water development process. 6 In 2010, a total of 3,808 glaciers were identified with a total area of 3,902 km2 and an estimated ice reserve of 312 km3. The total glacier area decreased by 24 per cent in the 33 years between 1977 and 2010 and the estimated ice reserves dropped down 29 per cent (129 km3) in the same period (Bajracharya et al. 2014). 7 According to DFRS (2014), except for Siraha District, there has been a widespread decrease in the forest cover in all districts of the Tarai. According to Ranajib, a social activist engaged in river issues in Bihar, lower Koshi’s watershed in Bihar has no forest patch left. 8 Sen (2019) writes, ‘The vast stretches of tropical and semitropical deciduous forest of the middle Ganga basin, from a period when northern India enjoyed a higher average rainfall and a higher water table[,] have all but vanished over the last 200 years.’ 9 The area under waterbody in 1990 was 793 km2 which reduced to 572 km2 – a mean 27.86 per cent decline over the period (Doody et al. 2016). 10 See Doody et al. (2016). 11 Nepal’s population growth in the same period was 14.4 per cent (2001, 23,151,423 and in 2011, 26,494,504, CBS 2012). Based on population changes in the districts in the Koshi Basin in Nepal we estimate that between 2001 and 2011, the basin’s population grew by 17 per cent. Urbanisation is an increasing trend in the basin and South Asia. With Bagmati feeding the lower Koshi region, Kathmandu Valley would be its part and has witnessed a nearly 200 per cent increase in the built-up area since 1990. That said, the urbanisation of areas in the Koshi Basin requires a more detailed analysis than undertaken here. 12 On April 6, 1947, four months before India declared independence, the victims of the flooding of the Koshi held a conference in Nirmali, Bihar. They recommended building a concrete dam at Barahacchetra, Nepal, in which to store monsoon water and thereby control floods. An earlier survey and investigation suggested building a multi-purpose project at Barahakchetra that would create a reservoir with a capacity of 0.85 million ha-m. It would produce 3,000 MW of electricity and, when packaged with a barrage at Chatara with canals off-taking from both sides of the river, the project would irrigate 1.39 million ha of land in Bihar and Nepal. The challenge of mobilising the financial resources to develop the project, estimated at IRs 1 billion, was significant, and arranging this amount was not easy for India, which had gained independence from the British only the year before, in 1947. The project was also put on hold for technical and political concerns. Other concerns were the trade-off between benefits from the proposed

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  125 project and the investment required; the use of the electricity generated and the question of generating additional demand. 13 ‘As the chief designer of Ganga Canal Sir Probey Cutley engineer and early architect of the Ganges Canal project took up the post of supervisor of canals in Rohilkhand and Delhi during 1837-1938, a devastating famine had ravaged the Central Province and the lower districts of the doab, and the company government became increasingly wary of the rising cost of famine relief for its starving subjects’ (Sen 2019). A reliable system of canals would help to cultivate rice and sugarcane as well as serve as a means of opening of traffic of boats and steamers for The East India Company Government. Also see Bottral (1992) and Chaturbedi (2000) for earlier discussions on the advent of modern irrigation on the Ganga plains. For further discussions on irrigation in the Ganga Basin, see Amrith (2018). 14 See US Army Corps of Engineers and Consensus Building Institute (2012). 15 See Gleick (2004). 16 The agreement was signed six years after India became independent and three years after the Rana regime was abolished in Nepal. Matrika Prasad Koirala led an interim government in Nepal. Nepal raised few concerns over the provisions of the treaty because the state of that time lacked the knowledge and technical capacity to assess the pros and cons of a project of that size. The country did not have the institutional capacity to negotiate either. The Indian side, in contrast, had gained more knowledge and had a better institutional arrangement that the colonial state had left it with (Pokharel 1996). 17 Mr. Matrika Prasad Koirala defended the agreement and argued that the Koshi Project would help to protect the land and populations in villages and towns in Nepal from the westward shift of the river. Despite his argument, people’s dissatisfaction persisted, even after the agreement was signed. In fact, B.P Koirala, the leader of the Nepali Congress party and prime minister from May 1959 to December 1960, also noted the shortcomings of the agreement (Pokharel 1996). Objections notwithstanding, in the presence of Prime Minister Jawahar Lal Nehru, late King Mahendra Bir Bikram Shah laid the foundation of the Project on April 30, 1959. In 1967, Hari Narayan Mishra, former speaker in Bihar Legislative Assembly and former minister of irrigation and power in the Government of India (GoI), wrote an article in The Searchlight Daily describing at length the dynamics around the Koshi Project (Mishra 2008). 18 See Iyer (2016). 19 See Notes on Koshi and Gandak Project, Liaison office Kathmandu, Government of Bihar, UD, https://www.indianembassy.org.np/water-resources/Note%20 on%20Kosi%20&%20Gandak%20Projects.doc, last accessed on 4 September 2018. 20 Dixit (2009) has argued that the 2008 embankment breach was an outcome of intersection of following factors: (a) reliance on a structural solution (embankments) promoted a false sense of security; (b) inappropriate technology in a sediment-charged river; (c) poor management of infrastructure (embankments); (d) institutional dysfunction and governance deficit; (e) the transboundary dimension of the river and Nepal–India treaty; and (f) the political transition in Nepal. For a discussion on the breach also see, Sinha (2009). 21 See Singh, P. (undated). As new irrigation canals and piped water supply schemes were built, the local population concurred to integrate them to the new systems being built with expectation that the amalgamation would provide better service than conventionally available. In many cases, for operation and management the two had different institutional arrangements which did not match well with each other. The lack of synergy between the two lead not only to poor operation, maintenance and upkeep but also to loss of sense of ownership and participation. Eventually the systems become dysfunctional and cease to deliver services.

126  Ajaya Dixit et al. Unfortunately, even modern systems are poorly maintained and managed that deliver low services. 22 Not only did the advent of colonial enterprise herald the power of technology or machine to transform floodplains of the Ganga valley overall, the building canals and embankments also led to rise of centralised bureaucracy (Sengupta 1997) holding power including in the Koshi Basin. For discussions on transformation floodplains of the eastern parts of the Ganga Basin during the colonial period, see Mishra (1997); D’Souza (2006). 23 This is based on Sudhriman et al. (2015). 24 At a smaller scale, hydrological and human organisation do coincide, and though a large basin or a watershed is a convenient unit from a resource perspective, it is complicated from a social management perspective (Moench et al. 1999) for achieving integrated objectives. Prasai (2019) has argued that the linkages among scale, complexity and claims for water make integration at a larger scale an unachievable goal (unpublished). 25 Inundation in Nepal is also a major problem in border areas in Uttar Pradesh. See Dixit (2008). 26 Wazih et al. (2020) suggest that in the lower Koshi region the degrading ecological landscape has compartmentalised embedded social entities and each have adversarial relation with the other. 27 This section is adapted from Moench et al. (2003).

References Amrith, S. 2018. Unruly Waters, How Mountains Rivers and Monsoon have Shaped South Asia’s History. London: Penguin Random House. Bajracharya, S. R., Maharjan, S. B., Shrestha, F., Bajracharya, O. R., & Baidya, S. 2014. Glacier Status Nepal and Decadal Change from 1980 to 2010 Based on Landsat Data. Kathmandu: International Center for Integrated Mountain Development. Bottral, A. 1992. ‘Fits and misfits over time and space: Technologies and institutions of water development for South Asian agriculture’, Contemporary South Asia, 1(2): 227–247. Chaturbedi, M. C. 2000. ‘Water for food and rural development in developing countries.’ Water International, 25(1): 40–53. Chaudhary, R. P., & Sah, J. P. 2016. ‘Plant diversity and environmental flows in the Koshi basin’. In Connecting Flows and Ecology in Nepal: Current State of Knowledge for the Koshi Basin (pp. 43–47), ed, Doody T. M., Cuddy, S. M., & Bhatta, L. D. CSIRO, Australia: Sustainable Development Investment Portfolio (SDIP) Project. D’Souza, R. 2006. Drowned and Dammed: Colonial Capitalism and Flood Control in Eastern India, 1803–1946. New Delhi: Oxford University Press. DFID. 2003. Tools for Development: A handbook for Those Engaged in Development Activity. www.unssc.org/web1/ls/downloads/toolsfordevelopment%20dfid.pdf, accessed 14 July 2020. DFRS. 2014. Tarai Forest of Nepal: Forest Resources Assessment (FRA). Kathmandu: Department of Forest Research and Survey (DFRS). DHM. 2008. Department of Hydrology and Meteorology. Kathmandu: Government of Nepal.

Transcending boundaries for sustainability in the Koshi Basin  127 Dixit, A. 2008. Dui Chheemeki Ko Jalyatra (Journey of Two Neighbours). Kathmandu: Nepal Water Conservation Foundation and ActionAid Nepal. Dixit, A. 2009. ‘Koshi Embankment breach in Nepal: need for a paradigm shift in responding to floods’, Economic and Political Weekly, 44(6): 70–78. Dixit, A., Shukla A., Shiraj, A. W., & Singh, B. 2017. Fragility, Complexity and Development: A Political Economy Analysis of Koshi Basin. Kathmandu and New Delhi: Institute for Social and Environmental Transition-Nepal, Gorakhpur Environmental Action Group, The Asia Foundation. Doody, T. M., Cuddy, S. M., & Bhatta, L. D., eds. 2016. Connecting Flows and Ecology in Nepal: Current State of Knowledge for the Koshi Basin, Summary, Chapter 13. Sustainable Development Investment Portfolio (SDIP) Project, 149. Australia: CSIRO. Garde, R. J., & Raju, K. G. 1977. Mechanics of Sediment Transportation and Alluvial Stream Problems. New Delhi: New Age International Private Limited Publishers, Former Wiley Eastern Limited. Gleick, P. 2004. ‘Emerging paradigm of water development and management’, Water Nepal, 11(1): 13–16. GoI 1981. Feasibility Report on Koshi High Dam Project. New Delhi: Government of India, Central Water Commission. Gole, C. V., & Chitale, S. V. 1966. ‘Inland delta building of Koshi River’, Journal Hydraulic Division, 92(HY2): 111–126. HPC. 1989. Karnali (Chisapani) Multipurpose Project Feasibility Study. Main Report: HMG/N Ministry of Water Resources Nepal. Iyer, R. 2016. ‘Water in India–Nepal relation’. The Hindu. Scott, J. 1998. Seeing Like a State: How Certain Scheme’s Aimed to Improve Human Conditions Have Failed. New Haven: Yale University Press. Mishra, D. K. 1997. ‘The Bihar flood story’, Economic and Political Weekly, 32(1): 2206–2217. Mishra, D. K. 2008. ‘Bihar floods: The inevitable has happened’, Economic and Political Weekly, 43(46): 47–52. Moench, M., Caspari, E., & Dixit, A., eds. 1999. Rethinking the Mosaic Investigations into Local Water Management. Boulder, CO and Kathmandu: Institute for Social and Environmental Transition (ISET)-International, Water Conservation Foundation and Institute for Social and Environmental Transition-Nepal. Moench, M., Dixit, A., Janakarajan, S., Rathore, M. S., & Mudrakartha, S., eds. 2003. The Fluid Mosaic: Water Governance in the Context of Variability, Uncertainty and Change, A Synthesis Paper. Kathmandu and Boulder, Colorado, USA: Institute for Social and Environmental Transition-International. Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Institute for Social and Environmental TransitionNepal and Institute for Social and Environmental Transition-International. Notes on Koshi and Gandak Project, Liaison office Kathmandu, Government of Bihar. (n.d.), www.indianembassy.org.np/water-resources/Note%20on%20 Kosi%20&%20Gandak%20Projects.doc, accessed 14 July 2020. Pokharel, J. C. 1996. Environmental Resources Negotiation between Unequal Powers. New Delhi: Vikas Publishing House Pvt. Ltd. Prasai, S. 2019. ‘Linkages Among Scale, Complexity and Claims for Water’. Institute for Social and Environmental Transition–Nepal.

128  Ajaya Dixit et al. Sen, S. 2019. Ganga: The Many Pasts of a River. New Delhi: Penguin and Viking. Sengupta, N. 1997. ‘The rise of bureaucracy: Water control versus management in Tamil Nadu’, Water FNepal, 5(2): 125–135. Shrestha, R. K., Ahlers, R., Bakker, M., & Gupta, J. 2010. ‘Institutional dysfunction and challenges in flood control: A case study of the Koshi flood 2008’, Economic and Political Weekly, 45(2): 45–53. Singh, P. (n.d.). Rethinking the Irrigation Dream: Pynes and Canals in Colonial Bihar. Bangalore: Centre for Interdisciplinary Studies in Environment and Development. Sinha, R. 2009. ‘Dynamics of a river system: the case of the Koshi River in North Bihar’, e-Journal Earth Science India, l.2(I): 33–45. Online at: http://www.earthscienceindia.info, accessed 14 July 2020. Sinha, R., Gupta, A., Mishra, K., Tripathi, N. S., Wahid, S. M., & Warnakar, S. 2019. ‘Basin-scale hydrology and sediment dynamics of the Koshi River in the Himalayan foreland’, Journal of Hydrology, 570: 156–166. Suhardiman, D., Clement, F., & Bharati, L. 2015. ‘Integrated water resources management in Nepal: Key stakeholders’ perception and lessons learnt’, International Journal of Water Resources Development, 31(2): 284–300. US Army Corps of Engineers and Consensus Building Institute. 2012. Water in the U.S. American west 150 years of Adaptive Strategies, Policy report for the 6th World Water Forum. http://naturalresourcespolicy.org/docs/water-in-the-west. pdf, accessed 14 July 2020. Wazih, S., Singh, B. M., & Singh, K. K. 2020. Micro Macro Ecological Connect for Sustainable Livelihoods in the Koshi Basin, Policy Brief. New Delhi: Gorakhpur Environmental Action Group and The Asia Foundation. Wescoat, J. R., Sarah, J. L., Halvorson, J., & Mustafa, D. 2000. ‘Water management in the Indus Basin of Pakistan: A half-century perspective’, Water Resources Development, 16(3): 391–406. World Bank. 1996. Identifying Stakeholders. In the World Bank Participation Source Book. http://documents1.worldbank.org/curated/en/289471468741587739/pdf/ multi-page.pdf, accessed 14 July 2020).

6 Environmental justice for the victims of the Koshi River Project The context and elements of transboundary legal response Shawahiq Siddiqui The Koshi is an international river that enters into India through Nepal and is linked to international water rights and obligations like many other international rivers in the world that flow in or out of the territory of a country. The Koshi Basin is part of the larger Ganges Basin shared by China, Nepal, India and Bangladesh. The Koshi is also the largest river of Nepal shared by China in the upstream and India in the downstream, accounting for very large volumes of water and sediment that flow downstream, causing devastating floods in the Indian state of Bihar. It is this devastating character of the Koshi in its downstream reach and beyond that has been the cause of concern in India among planners, policy makers, engineers, hydrologists, politicians, governments, international financial institutions, UN agencies, multinational donor agencies and a very large number of civil society organisations that have so far been unable to find effective ways to address Koshi floods for more than six decades. The community of practice engaged on the Koshi argue that the extent of damage to property, human and animal lives and sufferings caused by Koshi floods is aggravated by the Koshi Project and its scheme of embankments that has blocked the drainage of a very large and dynamic river basin and have transformed the entire basin into a permanent waterlogged area. Consequently, post-flood devastation resulting from permanent alteration of hydro-ecology of the area due to embankments has been the root cause of continued sufferings, let alone the flood itself. Thousands of villages in the several districts in the downstream Nepal and Bihar have remained waterlogged for decades, transforming these villages into what has been dubbed ‘water-graves’, since more than a million poor, vulnerable, women and children undergo sufferings, hardships and dangerous waterborne diseases in their daily lives. In 1954, India and Nepal signed a formal instrument of cooperation for the establishment of a mutually benefitting multi-purpose project on the Koshi River in Nepal, known as the Koshi Project, and the Agreement is known as the Agreement on the Koshi Project, 1954. The Agreement on the Koshi Project was revised in 1966 at the behest of Nepal. There is a complicated legal history associated with all the bilateral water agreements

130  Shawahiq Siddiqui and treaties between India and Nepal (Bhasin 1970), and the Koshi Project Agreement is no exception for very outstanding reasons that are discussed subsequently. In hindsight, the Koshi Multipurpose Project and its scheme of embankments was conceived to control devastating floods and to bring prosperity by way of irrigation and hydropower. The Project, however, has suffered lapses and criticism on various accounts since the very inception. The Koshi floods and the sufferings brought through them in the last six decades have thus become synonymous with the performance (or lack thereof) of the Koshi Project as a flood control measure in India and Nepal. The Project and its ill-conceived scheme of embankments over a period of six decades, it is argued, has not only failed to control floods but has transformed one of the most fertile river basins in the country into a strange unproductive and hostile landscape that is either silted or waterlogged throughout. The livelihoods in the Koshi basin have diminished completely, and the male outmigration has increased exponentially in the last few decades.1 In the flood-affected districts of the Koshi Basin, there are villages after villages inhabited only by women, children and elderly as the male members have left villages in search of livelihoods as wage labourers in cities in and outside of India. While the adverse social impacts of the Koshi Project have been studied to a large degree, the environmental impacts of the Project in the last six decades have not been accounted for to the desired extent (Dhungel & Pun 2009). Very heavy contamination of groundwater, soil and sub-soil and the presence of persistent organic pollutants such as arsenic and lead has severely affected the lives and livelihoods of millions. Outbreaks of deadly waterborne diseases and deaths among women and children and birth defects are common in the villages. However, the health missions operating in the area have not been able to link the mortality rates to the poor state of environment due to water logging and the complete breakdown of drainage system in the basin. It is not clear as to why numerous agencies and actors involved in studying the Koshi Basin have failed to highlight violations of human environment given the magnitude of environmental impacts and the extent of the area that has become environmentally unsustainable due to permanent waterlogging. This is a serious gap that needs to be understood in the context of international nature of the Koshi Project and local nature of the survival challenges due to irreversible environmental damages that present a stark environmental injustice to a million people directly impacted by the joint venture and its outcomes (Postel & Richter 2012).

Rediscovered international dimensions of the Koshi project: Koshi floods, 2008 The Koshi River and the Koshi Project could attract global attention only after the disastrous floods of August 2008 that caused unprecedented damage to life and property and washed away hundreds of villages in India

Environmental justice for the victims  131 and Nepal. Ostensibly, it was the international dimension of the breach that led to the escalation in the magnitude and scale of the tragedy as the breach occurred in upstream of the Koshi Barrage at Kusaha in Nepal. As the demands for fixing the liability for damage and compensation grew, the governments as well as the people impacted by the breach on both sides of the border exchanged blames and acrimony. What followed after the breach, however, exposed the inherent weaknesses of the Koshi Regime and brought to question almost all aspects related to the sixty-year-old Koshi Project particularly related to legal aspects of jurisdiction, governance and accountability under the Revised Agreement on the Koshi Project between India and Nepal in 1966. Since the Project is completely owned by the Government of India and State Government of Bihar is the Chief Engineer of the Koshi Project for all practical purposes as per the 1966 Agreement on the Koshi Project, the Judicial Commission of Enquiry to investigate the breach was set up in India. Though the findings of the Commission have not been made public, the status quo clearly proves that the Commission failed to make any recommendation that would bring relief and justice to people. The failure of the Koshi Project as a flood control project is fairly established. Its capability and potential as irrigation and hydropower project is yet to be proved after six decades. Kusaha tragedy in hindsight presented an opportunity for India and Nepal to engage with each other to identify steps that were needed to undo the historical injustice to the people in the Koshi Basin. The opportunity has been lost and new attempts have to be made by both countries to implement measures to improve the scenario for which a detailed assessment of the current scenario in the basin from the ecological, climatic, governance and socio-economic standpoints has to be made. In order to appreciate contextual vulnerabilities associated with the Koshi floods and the historical injustice done to the people of the shared India–Nepal Koshi Basin, the conception and execution of the Koshi project, especially the manner in which it was conceived and implemented and the process followed thereafter to address the issues related to the construction, during construction and post construction of the Koshi Project, it is pertinent to understand the multilayered context involving ecological, legal, social, political and institutional dimensions of the Koshi Project as well as existing conditions of the project-affected communities that have been forced to live with what was understood to be ‘mutually benefitting’ joint venture on an international river by India and Nepal. The legal elements and aspects of this joint venture then undoubtedly become an important area of enquiry, since the present arrangements and the institutional functioning flow from the Revised Agreement on the Koshi Project, 1966 reflecting the bilateral understanding between India and Nepal in managing the Koshi Project. In order to appreciate the legal dimension, it is pertinent to understand the ecological and technical aspects related to the Koshi River and the Koshi Project, respectively, since it is these two components around which the legal architecture has been put in place.

132  Shawahiq Siddiqui

Koshi: an ecological context Koshi is the largest river of Nepal and the largest tributary of Ganges. The river flows through a narrow gorge of 10 km in length before entering the plains of Chatra. After flowing 25 km through Nepal, it enters India near Hanumangarh and flows further downstream to join the Ganges at Kursela in the state of Bihar. The Koshi is known for its devastating effects, changing its course frequently within the last 250 years. The river, as per experts, has been shifting westwards, a trend which has been reversed in 2008,wherein the Koshi had now shifted 120 km eastwards and is understood to flow within its 300-year-old bed, previously abandoned due to the westward shift in the course of the river. During the 1950s, this trend of was seen as a ‘strange difficulty that arises every year in some parts of Bihar, bringing disaster and ruin’.2

The Koshi project: design and technical aspects The design of the Koshi Project intended to yield multi-purpose benefits. The construction works began after the signing of the Agreement between the two countries in 1954. The 1,150-metre Koshi Barrage, intended to serve as a gradient control measure for containing the meandering behaviour of the Koshi, was built in Bhimnagar (8 km inside Nepal). Two canals take off from either side of the barrage. The Eastern Main Canal, which is entirely in the Indian territory, provides irrigation to 612,500 hectares of agricultural land in India. A powerhouse with an installed capacity of four units of 5,000 kW each is located along the canal at a distance of 11 km from the barrage and was proposed to generate power by making use of the head drop of the canal. The Western Main Canal traverses a distance of 35 km in Nepal before entering the Indian territory and provides irrigation water to 11,300 hectares of agricultural land in Nepal and 356,610 hectares of agricultural land in India. Flood control works in Nepal consist of a western afflux bund about 2 km long and a 40-km embankment along the eastern bank of the river. Extensive embankments, about 220 km long, were built on either side of the river in the Indian territory to confine the river flow and protect the land beyond from flooding.3 Many more layers of embankments as flood control measures have been added since 1960s, as the main embankments breached several times, thus exposing their vulnerability to the powerful nature of the Koshi River (Salman & Uprety 2003). Koshi project: a hydro-diplomacy perspective The Koshi Project was the first joint venture project between India and Nepal in an international river shared by them. It was presented as a mutually benefitting Multi-purpose Scheme to both countries on various accounts.4 The benefits that would accrue from this development project included flood control, irrigation and hydropower. Historical accounts suggest that

Environmental justice for the victims  133 the idea of tapping Koshi waters was discussed as early as in 1896, but in the absence of any serious feasibility studies, no decision could be made.5 The changed political circumstances in Nepal, it is argued, enabled India to direct the attention to the Koshi Project. The Koshi Multi-purpose Scheme, as we shall see later in detail, received the sanction of the Government of India in 1953, followed by the endorsement by the Nepalese Government. These developments led to the negotiations and signing of the Koshi Agreement, 1954 between India and Nepal.6 The Agreement was later revised in 1966 on the request of Nepal due to ‘changed circumstances’. Thus the Revised Koshi Agreement, 1966 underlines the understanding between India and Nepal on implementing the Koshi Project.7 Ever since the revision and renegotiation of the Koshi Project, all the political factions in Nepal have been accusing each other of selling the country down the river. It is viewed that the disproportionate influence of politics and inward-looking dynamics of political actors in both countries have dominated the water relations between India and Nepal rather than technical and informed discussions.

Koshi project agreement, 1954 and its rejection in Nepal The Koshi Agreement, 1954 and commissioning of the work for the Koshi Project attracted sharp criticism leading to widespread resentment and Nepal. Major criticisms were on grounds of sovereignty and inadequate compensation to Nepal. The discourse then grew in a way that critics asserted that the Koshi Project did not benefit Nepal in any manner whatsoever and that it granted extraterritorial rights to India to further India’s own interests in exchange for miniscule benefits for and at the cost of loosing Nepal’s fertile land. Consequently, the work on the Koshi Project was suspended during 1962–1963. The criticism for the Koshi Project and the Koshi Agreement led to the deterioration of relationship between the two countries and mounted pressure on India to undertake ‘extensive revisions’ of the 1954 Agreement, which was done in 1966, and the amended Koshi Agreement, that completely replaced the earlier one, was brought into force with immediate effect after the signature of both the parties.8 The Koshi Agreement, 1954 clearly outlined the multi-purpose ambit of the Koshi Project. However, the Project continued to be perceived as a flood control project with the aim to reduce the devastation caused by recurrent floods in the two countries. The barrage and the Eastern Main Canal were completed in 1962.The construction of the Western Main Canal started in 1972 and it became operational in 1982.

Key aspects of the revised agreement on the Koshi project, 1966 Preambular ambiguities In 1966, the Koshi Agreement was amended and new clauses were added (Revised Agreement on the Kosi Project 1966). The 1954 Agreement created friction between India and Nepal, mainly due to sharing of burdens and the

134  Shawahiq Siddiqui issue of compensation. India was responsible for providing compensation for the land acquired in Nepal as well as for compensating the damages due to the construction of the barrage. The responsibility for the design, construction and operation of the project was also vested with India. Nepal contended that the Agreement was skewed due to disproportionate share of benefits that accrued to the two countries (Maharjan 2018). The 1966 Agreement9 asserted that ‘Nepal had suggested revision of the said Agreement in order to meet the requirements of the changed circumstances’, and India, ‘with a view to maintaining friendship and good relation subsisting between Nepal and India’, had agreed to the revision of the 1954 Agreement.10 What is noteworthy here is that the revision did not acknowledge the contentions raised by Nepal on disproportionate benefits that accrued to Nepal during the first ten years of existence of the Koshi Agreement, 1954.

Post facto regularisation of the works already completed By the time the Koshi Agreement was revised, various works related to the Project were already carried out in ‘cooperation’ with the Government of Nepal. For works that were at various stages of surveys, the Nepalese government agreed to afford necessary facilities with due intimation to the Government of India. However, the general layout and institutional framework on the Koshi Project was slightly modified and details in the form of an annex were made part of the revised agreement.11 To handle the issues associated with work to be carried out in Nepal by Indian agencies, a twofold mechanism was inserted. For undertakings and other works connected with the Koshi Project needed to be planned and carried out in consultation with and prior approval from the Government of Nepal, no work would be conducted until such approval has been secured.12 The two specific elements worth noting are as follows. First, planning was to be jointly carried out by the designated agencies of the two governments, with equal involvement from both sides. Second, the sub proviso to the main provision provides that in the events where consultation with the Government of Nepal or its prior approval is required and for the matters related to land submergence and compensation, intimation to His Majesty’s Government shall be sufficient.13 De-linked and dysfunctional institutional arrangements As per the 1966 Agreement, the execution of the Koshi Project is the responsibility of the state government of Bihar, which is the designated Chief Engineer of the Koshi Project. By virtue of this, for all practical and operational purposes, from surveys to afforestation programs, soil conservation measures and afforestation programs required for a complete solution of the Koshi problem in future,14 the government of the Indian state of Bihar became the Chief Executing Agency of the Koshi Project in the Project

Environmental justice for the victims  135 Area.15 While all surveys were to be carried in cooperation with the Government of Nepal, surveys and investigations for the general maintenance of the Project shall be carried out with due intimation to the Government of Nepal.16 Data sharing: absence of reciprocity In the Koshi Agreement, it can be argued that the data sharing is not the shared responsibility. The data surveys and investigations carried out by or on behalf of India in respect of Koshi in Nepal is to be made available to the Government of Nepal by India without any delay. Similarly, the Government of Nepal is also required to make all the data available to the Government of India on request in respect for Koshi in Nepal.17 Thus it can be seen that it is only the data of Koshi in Nepal which is to be shared by both the countries. The provision is silent on the data to be shared with respect to Koshi in India, something which has not gone well with agencies in Nepal, and they argue that by way of this provision India does not want to acknowledge access and use of Nepalese waters without any cost for extensive irrigation in India.18 Compensation for the loss of agricultural lands and other immovable property under the Koshi agreement With respect to land and other property, the 1966 Revised Koshi Agreement provides that when any major work which is not part of the amended plan is to be undertaken, the approval is to be given by the Government of Nepal as when the work receives the sanction of the Indian government and notice has been given by India to Nepal.19 The land required for this purposes shall be acquired by the Government of Nepal and the Government of India shall pay compensation, to be decided mutually, for the land so acquired for project purposes. The Project Area which includes all the area required for the project and additional works that may arise from time to time within the meaning of clause Article 2(i) and Article 3 for all practical purposes was to be acquired by the Government of Nepal and leased to the Government of India for a period of 199 years from the date of the signing of these agreements at a nominal rate to be mutually agreed upon by both countries. There is also a provision for the renewal of leases on a mutually agreed basis.20 The lands leased as Project Area shall continue to be under the sovereign jurisdiction of the Government of Nepal, and the law of Nepal shall continue to be applied unimpaired on such leased lands. The compensation for land and other property to be provided for the loss of land revenue and for the land and other properties that would be submerged for the compensation to be paid in cash, parties agreed, was to be determined as per the methodology provided in the revised Agreement. The 1966 Agreement provides that for the purpose of assessing the cash

136  Shawahiq Siddiqui compensation, lands required for the execution of various works and submerged lands will be divided into four classes to include (1) cultivated lands, (2) forest lands, (3) village lands and houses and other immovable property standing on them and (4) wastelands.21 It is further provided that all lands registered in the cadastre in the territory of Nepal actually cultivated were deemed to be cultivated lands.22 What emerges from this methodology is that Nepal was to be compensated for loss of revenue directly by way of cash, and individual owners of land and other immovable property were to be compensated through the Government of Nepal. The assessment and manner of payment of compensation were to be done by mutual agreement of both the governments, and the assessment of land was also to be carried out by duly authorised officials of Nepalese and Indian governments.23 The Revised Agreement does not contain explicit provision on the rate of compensation for loss of land and other property. This was agreed upon by exchange of letters.24 For land that was already acquired for the Koshi Project, India would pay compensation at the rate of five Nepali Rupees per Nepali Bigha. For lands to be acquired in the future, and especially for the Western Koshi Canal, the existing provision would be applicable, under which loss of land revenue is to be determined on the basis of the land revenue payable as at the time of acquisition of the land Water rights in the Koshi River Right to use water in the Koshi Basin is spelled out very clearly in the Revised Agreement. Nepal has the right to withdraw water from the Koshi River for irrigation or for any other purposes and from the Sun Koshi River or within the Koshi Basin from any of the Koshi tributaries.25 This is an important provision, as it is only here that ‘Koshi Basin' as a reference unit findsmention. The import of this provision is very critical for Nepal, as the provision assures that Nepal’s sovereign claim over Koshi waters for “any other purposes within the Koshi Basin” remains unimpaired. The Government of India has the right to regulate balance of supplies at the barrage site as available from time to time and to generate power in the Eastern Canal. This also means that the Koshi Agreement is not typically a water allocation agreement, as the quantum of water to be shared or allocated or quantum of water to be released in canals for irrigation benefits to both countries does find mention very explicitly. Hydro-power generated is an entitlement Use of power generated from the Koshi Project is an entitlement under the 1966 Agreement. Nepal is entitled to obtain for use in Nepal ‘up to 50%’ of the total hydropower generated by any power house situated within a ten-mile radius from the barrage site constructed by the Government of India. This entitlement is subject to the communication of power demandsand increase or decrease in required power supply as communicated from

Environmental justice for the victims  137 time to time by the Government of Nepal. This communication has to be sent at least three months in advance if the required power supply exceeds 6.8 MW.26 If the hydropower is generated within the Indian territory, India is required to construct transmission lines up to a point on the India– Nepal border as may be mutually agreed upon. The tariff rate for the electricity generated and supplied to Nepal would also be mutually agreed upon. The power and other materials used for the purpose of the Project are not provided for free. They yield royalties for Nepal. In respect to power generated and utilised in the Indian Union, according to the 1966 Agreement, the Government of Nepal is entitled to receive royalty at rates to be settled by agreement. No royalty is to be paid on the power sold to Nepal.27 Important to note here is that the Revised Agreement provides a space for having another agreement on fixing tariff for the electricity generated in India and supplied to Nepal. While electricity tariff is to be negotiated by both countries, Nepal is entitled to receive royalty from the power generation. Navigation and fishing All the navigational and fishing rights in the Koshi River in Nepal rest with Nepal. Navigation and fishing within two miles of the barrage is regulated by way of special permits that can be issued by Nepalese authorities after consultation with the Executive Engineer of the Barrage.28 Other resources and ecosystem services On the use of other resources required for construction or maintenance of the Koshi Project, the Agreement provides that the Indian government can use and remove clay, sand and soil without let or hindrance from land leased by Nepal to India. Besides, Nepal would not levy customs or any duty during construction and subsequent maintenance on any articles and materials required for the purpose of the Project or the work connected to it.29 The use of timber from the Nepalese forests required for construction work is also permitted on payment of compensation. Compensation is not payable for quantities of timber necessary for the use in the spurs and other river training works required for the prevention of caving and erosion on the right bank in Nepal. Similarly, no compensation is payable for timber obtained from the forestlands leased by Nepal to India.30 No compensation is to be paid for the timber on the land leased to India for the Koshi Project. Connectivity and communication There are other provisions relating to connectivity and communication infrastructure within the Project area or as may be required for the construction or maintenance of the Koshi Project. The parties agreed to do away with all logistical hurdles that may come up for the access or maintenance

138  Shawahiq Siddiqui of barrage sites and related works. Therefore, unrestricted access to roads and other means of communication has been provided.31 Dispute settlement mechanism Adispute arising out of construction, effect or meaning of this Agreement, or with respect to rights and liabilities of the parties hereunder, has to be first settled by discussion and then arbitration if the parties fail to settle the dispute by discussion.32 Arbitration The Agreement further provides the manner in which arbitration is to be carried out. When the dispute arises, any of the parties may, by notice in writing, inform the other party of its intention to refer to arbitration any such dispute or difference. The intention is to be conveyed by way of a written notice, and upon the delivery of such notice, within ninety days, the two parties shall nominate an arbitrator for jointly determining such dispute or difference, and the award of the joint arbitrators shall be binding upon the parties. The dispute mechanism has another step: post arbitration. There is a provision of an Umpire to be appointed by optional mutual consultation whose decision shall be final and binding.33 The mechanism appears to be three-tiered; however, there are inherent weaknesses. First, there is no obligation upon the parties to inform each other of their intention to go to arbitration. Second, the dispute is to be ‘determined’, not resolved. If the parties fail to appoint arbitrators, there is no obligation on them to settle the dispute by any other means. The ninety days’ time is too long of an issue that requires urgent attention in the fragile context of the Koshi. Failure of arbitration can lead to a total failure of dispute mechanism, as the provision of an Umpire can be completely defeated if the two parties do not agree on appointing an Umpire,since they are only required to consult each other and not obligated to arrive at a consensus on the decision. Parties may not choose to consult each other at all. Indo–Nepal project commission The Revised Agreement provides for continuing with the joint institutional mechanism with a changed name. Under the 1954 Agreement, the Indo– Nepal Project Committee was established. The Revised Agreement of 1966, instead of the Committee, establishes the Indo–Nepal Koshi Project Commission. The Commission is vested with the responsibility of facilitating coordination between the governments with regard to the matters covered under the Agreement.34 The Commission was mandated to consider matters of common interest that concerned the Project, such as land acquisition by Nepal for lease to India, rehabilitation of displaced population and, among others, maintenance of law and order.35 The rules for the composition and

Environmental justice for the victims  139 jurisdiction of the Commission were to be mutually agreed upon. Since formulating such rules required time, the Joint Committee established under the 1954 Agreement was allowed to continue with four representatives to be nominated by both the countries. The Chair of the Committee was to be from Nepal and Secretary of the Committee was to be the Administrator of the Koshi Project. Notably, the Commission was not vested with any powers with respect to effective implementation of the Agreement. The monitoring role of the Commission, though felt desired given the size of the Project and its importance for both countries, is missing. The Commission’s role is thus restricted to the time period of construction of the Project and rehabilitation and resettlement. For all practical purposes, after the Koshi Project has been commissioned, the Commission has no role to play under the Revised Agreement.

Key contentions and gaps in the Koshi agreement, 1966: not only inequitable but unfair to people and the river system Almost all the provisions of the 1954 Agreement were strongly contented at the political level in Nepal by Nepal’s opposition parties since the beginning. The revision was carried out apparently on the behest of Nepal, the fact of which is formally acknowledged in the text of the Agreement. The Revised 1966 Agreement tried to improve the situation on sovereignty, territorial integrity and future water rights of Nepal for the utilisation of the Koshi River. However, the contentions around land leased to India, the submergence of productive land in Nepal and the proportionate benefits that would accrue to Nepal as compared to India continued to remain contended, and commentators from both countries have held their positions based on their perception and interpretation of facts. Compensation: inequitable to Nepal and unfair to evicted people in India The process of land acquisition in Nepal began soon after the signing of the 1954 Agreement. While the construction was under way, the amendment to the Agreement was proposed by Nepal. The position with respect to land acquisition under the 1954 Agreement remained unchanged under the Revised Agreement. Under the Revised Agreement, 1966 the land required for the purposes of the Project was to be acquired by Nepal, and compensation was to be paid by India.36 Since the land to be acquired belonged to individuals, communities, village institutions and government agencies, the compensation mechanism could only be routed through the Government of Nepal. The assessment for compensation, however, was based on a methodology agreed upon by the parties under the 1966 Revised Agreement. Per that methodology, for compensation purposes, lands were to be divided into four classes:(1) cultivated lands; (2) forest lands; (3) village lands and houses and other immovable property standing on them; and (4) waste lands. The Agreement provides that all lands registered in the

140  Shawahiq Siddiqui cadastre on the territory of Nepal actually cultivated were deemed to be cultivated lands.37 The rate of compensation was ascertained by exchange of letters. The letters exchanged on December 19, 1966 clarified the position with respect to the rate for land acquired for the Koshi Project by the Government of Nepal. India would pay the compensation annually at the rate of five Nepalese Rupees per Nepali Bigha. This provision was to be applied retrospectively for all the lands that were already acquired for the Koshi Project. For land required in the future, the existing rate would be applicable. The loss of land revenue would be determined at the time of acquisition of land. Compensation, land and related notions of sovereignty remain hotly contested issues between the two countries to date. Despite the fact that the 1966 provision had done away with the 1954 position on land (‘The Union shall be the owner of all land acquired by the Government [Nepal] … and of all water rights secured to under it under Clause 4’) and changed India’s position from owner of land acquired for the Project to ‘lessee’ with the Government of Nepal leasing the land to the Government of India for 199 years at an annual nominal rate,38 communities in Nepal feel that Nepal’s most productive land has been submerged for irrigation, flood control and power benefits of India and Nepal’s gain is disproportionately smaller than India’s share of benefits. It is to be further noted that at the request of India, Nepal is to grant renewal of the lease on mutually agreed-upon terms and conditions. Unusual lease period is criticised heavily in Nepal and continues to strain relationships even today As we have seen, Nepal desperately tried to improve its position with respect to land transferred to the Government of India under the 1954 Agreement. The 1966 Agreement recorded the changed understanding between India and Nepal with respect to land. Now the land is leased to India for 199 years and could be taken back by Nepal after the expiry of the lease period with certain payment conditions. In this context, commentators and jurists have observed that the duration of the lease period under the Revised Koshi Agreement far exceeds the usual lease period observed in treaties of this sort. Another observation made by commentators is that the letters exchanged on December 19, 1966 provide that if the Government of Nepal takes over the Project properties at the end of the lease period, the Government of India would be reasonably compensated for the cost of the project incurred till that date (until 1966, the time when the conditions with respect to transfer of land were changed from ownership to lease). Nepal shall also compensate India for future costs (post 1966 till the completion of 199 years), taking into account the depreciation in the cost of materials used for the project. It may also be noted that what would be reasonable compensation after 199 years is subject to

Environmental justice for the victims  141 negotiations and interpretation by both countries. Practically, it is argued, the lands leased to India by Nepal could never be taken back by Nepal. Water rights over the Koshi River: the new hope for Nepal and a caution for India Contentions regarding rights over the Koshi River that arose due to the position of Nepal under the 1954 Agreement were addressed effectively by the 1966 Agreement. The 1954 Agreement provided that Without prejudice to the right of Government [of Nepal] to withdraw for irrigation or any other purpose in Nepal such supplies of water, as may be required from time to time, the Union [India] will have the right to regulate all the supplies in the Koshi River at the Barrage site. Under the Revised Agreement, 1966, Nepal’s position with respect to control over the Koshi in Nepal has been improved considerably. As per the revised provision, the Government of Nepal shall have every right to withdraw for irrigation and for any other purpose in Nepal water from the Koshi River and from the SunKoshi River or within the Koshi Basin from any other tributaries of the Koshi River as may be required from time to time. India shall have the right to regulate all the balance of supplies in the Koshi River at the barrage site thus available from time to time and to generate power in the Eastern Canal.39 However, there is still a perception among certain groups that Nepal’s position with respect to rights over the Koshi River is same as under the 1954 Agreement. In another instance it has been noted that certain factions of the civil society in Nepal promote diversion of Sunkoshi and other tributaries in Nepal, as in their understanding the 1966 Agreement with India unambiguously paves the way for utilising the waters in the Koshi Basin by Nepal. The idea of building a Koshi High Dam is still alive between the two countries, though the progress on it has been regressively slow. India’s obligation to install and generate power from the Koshi Project has remained illusionary and unsubstantial both for India and Nepal The Revised Agreement also underscores improvement in Nepal’s position with respect to power. The Government of Nepal is entitled to obtain for use in Nepal any portion up to 50 percent of the total hydro-electric power generated by any powerhouse situated within a 10-mile radius from the barrage site and constructed by or on behalf of India. Further, if power to be supplied to Nepal is generated in India, the Indian government would construct necessary transmission lines to a point at the Nepal–India border that shall be mutually agreed upon, and the tariff for the electricity supplied to Nepal is also to be fixed mutually.40 There are two observations here.

142  Shawahiq Siddiqui First, power generated under the project is an entitlement for Nepal and not a benefit that would accrue automatically. Second, the revised provision continues to state that the tariffs to be charged to Nepal are to be determined on a mutually agreed basis. Therefore, there is no substantive change from the 1954 position except that the responsibility of India for constructing transmission lines up to the agreed-upon point has been stated. Other commentators on international water law have also viewed this provision to mean that as per the 1966 position with respect to power generation and use by Nepal, India only has the obligation to install power lines but no obligation to generate power, thus rendering the power benefits to Nepal from the Koshi Project illusory. There are no substantial power generation benefits from the existing Koshi Project in India as per the locals in India’s Birpur, Supual district from where the administration and management of the entire Koshi Project is controlled.

The context and the need for establishment of Koshi Peedit Vikas Pradhikar (Koshi Sufferers Development Authority-KSDA) A glaring omission under the Koshi Agreement is that the Agreement talks about compensation for the loss of all categories of lands in Nepal but is silent about any compensation for the loss of land and other immovable property in India. It was perhaps assumed that since the Koshi Barrage was to be located in Nepal, all its adverse impacts will be confined to upstream Nepal. And since the Project has been designed to benefit people in the Indian state of Bihar, they need not be compensated. Therefore, while the methodology for compensation for all categories of land loss in Nepal is provided within the Agreement,41 there is no mention of how the lands in downstream Bihar are to be compensated. Absence of any mention of compensation for lands in India in the formal instrument between the two countries also means lack of reciprocity in dealing with the project-affected people, as well as lack of administrative foresight to deal equitably with people in both countries, especially in view of the social and cultural relationship between the communities in both countries. The sense of having been dealt with unfairly by its own government became deeply rooted in Bihar, while the Nepalese continue to feel that they have been outsmarted as their productive lands were drowned to irrigate a large extent of land in Bihar. Records show that absence of compensation and rehabilitation for ­project-affected people in India under the Agreement was no oversight. It was not considered necessary to be included in the formal planning. Later, however, as the work on embankments began, demands for compensation for the loss of agricultural land and resettlement grew (Mishra 1996, 2008). These legitimate demands were not easily accommodated. In fact, the compensation and rehabilitation for people to be evicted due to embankments construction was not only omitted but opposed. At a meeting of the Koshi Control Board in Patna on 2 March 1956, the idea for providing

Environmental justice for the victims  143 rehabilitation for people displaced by the construction of embankments was mooted. A few members from the Central Water and Power Commission (CWPC) present at the meeting took the view that if the resettlement is provided to displaced people under this Project, it would set a bad precedent and impact all such future projects.42 However, the then irrigation minister of Bihar, Ram Charritar Singh, and other like-minded people prevailed over the views of the CWPC, and the idea of resettlement was retained. Preparing the blueprint for resettlement of embankment evictees was not an easy task, as several unsuccessful attempts to complete it were made over the succeeding decades. In the aftermath of Bihar floods of 1956, which had demonstrated the inherent weaknesses of embankments, strong statements were made in Bihar Vidhan Sabha (State Assembly) in 1958 promising flood-protected land for cultivation and habitation close to the embankments. A series of welfare measures such as schools, roads and tube wells were also announced. Promises for house-building grants and free boats to farmers for easy access to their fields were also made. None of these promises could be delivered on the ground due to complexities involved in an international venture project. Subsequently, several committees were constituted by the Government of Bihar in 1962, 1967, and 1981 to make recommendations on the issue of rehabilitation. The recommendations by the Chandra Kishor Pathak Committee constituted in 1981 were taken up in April 1987, and based on these recommendations, the Government of Bihar constituted Koshi Pirit Vikas Pradhikar (Koshi Sufferers’ Development Authority). The Pradhikar, despite being born out of public demand, did not gain much political or social traction for unknown reasons and continues to remain a defunct body. It is not clear as to why the Government of Bihar chose to retreat in furthering the cause through a critical institution that it has been able to establish after years and decades of labour of its own committees. The Pradhikar nonetheless exists and represents an institutional response to the existential crisis faced by embankment evictees.

The formation and constitution of the Koshi sufferers’ development authority (KSDA) As per the Cabinet Decision dated 30 January 1987 by the Bihar Constituent Assembly, serious deliberations on the economic emancipation and resettlement issues faced by the people entrapped between the Koshi embankments and in the Koshi region took place, and the State Assembly resolved to constitute an Authority. The Authority was named the Koshi Sufferers Development Authority, with headquarters in Saharsa district, Bihar. The main purpose of this Authority is to create programs for the economic emancipation and resettlement of people trapped between the Koshi embankments and to ensure the implementation of such programs and schemes. The Authority had been originally constituted with nineteen

144  Shawahiq Siddiqui members, which included the then agriculture minister of Bihar, Mr. Lahtan Choudhary, the Member of Parliament from the Koshi constituency, Members of Legislative Assembly (MLAs) and commissioners from various flood-affected districts.

Proposed programs of the Koshi Pradhikar The eighteen-point Cabinet decision dated 30 January 1987 by the Bihar State Assembly for the protection and economic development of people trapped between the Koshi embankments sought to implement in practice the recommendations of the Pathak Committee, and the decision was made public in April 1987 in the form a booklet titled ‘Proposed Programs of the Koshi Sufferers Development Authority’.43 The KDSA was required to develop and implement a number of programs to expedite economic development and resettlement of residents of over 380 villages trapped between the embankments in India alone. The brief overview of the proposed programs of the KDSA points towards its comprehensive approach to improving the lives within the embankments. The Cabinet members of Bihar state assembly who also became members of the KDSA resolved that the state of agriculture within the embankments needs to be improved, for which they recommended that the state Agriculture Department carry out research and a land survey to ensure two most suitable crops for the area (between the embankments) and develop programs for promoting sugarcane, jute and coconut. The department would also provide subsidy for seeds, fertiliser and insecticides at up to 50 per cent discount to the marginalised and small farmers and up to 25 per cent discount to the medium-size farmers trapped within the embankments. It was also mandated that there is a need to identify and determine any one and the most suitable levy to be applicable to the lands falling within the Koshi embankments based on the public views on the same within the six months of the publication of the Cabinet decision. The lands within the embankments were to be exempted from any other kind of levy or land revenue (Malguzari). On the issue of small scale irrigation facilities (minor irrigation), the Cabinet through the KDSA sought to prepare an irrigation scheme so as to provide for appropriate irrigation infrastructure suitable for the agricultural needs of the area between the embankments within three years. The proposed scheme would look into all the possible options, such as bamboo and pump irrigation. It is acknowledged that the post-flood water availability in the embanked region is unreliable for irrigation. The scheme so extended to the people living within embankments would deem marginalised farmers as main beneficiaries and provide subsidies to the extent possible. The KDSA is required to develop and encourage programs of animal husbandry within the embankments, since this has been the major livelihood practice in the area. To promote animal health and well-being, the KDSA is

Environmental justice for the victims  145 committed to opening veterinary clinics at the Panchayat level and a veterinary hospital for serving an area covered by eight to ten Panchayats within three years of the establishment of the Authority. Several other measures such as adequate arrangements for fodder, duck farming, dairy cooperatives and exploring market linkages for animal products from the area are envisaged to be taken up by the KDSA. The scope for small-scale industries within the embankments is also to be explored. The state industry department is required to carry out a survey and develop a five-year plan for promoting home-based micro-­enterprises within the embankments. The provision for loans to the families shall also be made. For supporting micro-enterprises and raw material produced within the embankments, the medium-size industries need to come up outside the embankments. The five-year plan to be prepared by the state industry department was to be implemented within the same vidhan sabha (state assembly) tenure in which it was being recommended. The KDSA was required to mobilise financial aid and loans from rural cooperative banks so as to help the poor who have not been able to take advantage of the government financial aid programs. Avenues for other forms of employment were to be explored. The Cabinet decision provides that the KDSA shall ensure reservations in the government and other jobs in the districts where Koshi embankments have already been built. The districts named in the decision include Darbhanga, Madhubani, Samastipur, Saharsa, Madhepura, Purnia and Katihar. A total of 15 per cent of grade III and IV government jobs shall be reserved for the people living within the embankments in these districts. Similarly, the governmental, semi-governmental and private industries are required to provide employment to people living within the embankments on the reservation basis. People from the general category (as opposed to the underprivileged) living within the embankments are also entitled to 15 per cent reservations in the government jobs. A slew of other measures to be implemented by the KDSA include rural electrification and biogas plants within the embankments, extensive measures for education and healthcare, Aaganwadi and child development centres, public health utilities such as hand pumps, flood protection measures, exemption from any Ghat levies, provision of free boats, resettlement and alternate housing, construction of bridges and reorganisation of administrative blocks as per the embankments. Finally, the KDSA is also to promote the construction of the Koshi High Dam and pursue the same with the Government of India for the permanent and long-term solution to the Koshi problem.

Postscript The Koshi Project with its scheme of embankments is an international project with a separate legal and administrative machinery to control its

146  Shawahiq Siddiqui operations and maintenance in the entire project area. Even though the agreement said that in the land requisitioned the sovereignty and jurisdiction of Nepal will remain unimpaired, for the purposes of the project the land area leased to Nepal is in de facto control of the Chief Engineer of the Project, which is the Government of Bihar. Much ambiguity is sustained on the Indian side in Bihar until this day. The embankments and appurtenant infrastructure under the Koshi Project are presented as an exclusive entity over which only the central government has the power and jurisdiction to intervene and state government of Bihar is merely the administrative head of the project, a position duly supported by the text of the Koshi Agreement. This, however, contradicts the constitutional position in India where the land and water are state subjects under the Seventh Schedule of the Constitution of India, 1950. The state has an unequivocal and uncontested legal right and power to manage its land and water in the public interest of its people. The Koshi Pradhikar and its proposed programs are thus an appropriate response and exercise of constitutional mandate at the subnational level to overcome the legal complexities of an international project-centric agreement on land and water by utilising the constitutional powers given to the state. The formation of Koshi Pradhikar as a dedicated institution to address the adverse impacts of the Koshi Project is the formal acknowledgement by the Bihar State Assembly of failed design of the Koshi Project and the Agreement as far as the protection from the floods and for the embankments is concerned. The Agreement prima facie falls short of providing any alternative or relief to people once their lands and houses are taken away in India. The Agreement failed to address two major points of contention between India and Nepal: first, shared understanding of water rights between upstream and downstream riparian regions; and second, the question of overall management, control and operation of the barrage. In fact, it does the opposite by keeping silent about the whole aspect and avoiding developing a unified framework of perspectives. Its proponents, however, argue against any kind of compensation and resettlement but unsuccessfully. What followed from the state of affairs is the deepening of people’s resistance to the project. The text of the proposed programs of the Koshi Pradhikar formally acknowledges, perhaps for the first time, through a cabinet decision that the plight of people who would be trapped between the western and eastern embankments (as part of the Koshi Project) needs to be urgently addressed. After decades of failed response to flood control, mitigation or realisation of stated benefits under the Koshi Project, Koshi Pradhikar had been set up as the institutional response to the issue of resettlement and compensation to the embankment sufferers through various means by the subnational government that was not involved in the conception or design of the Koshi Project, nor had any role in negotiating the terms of the Koshi Agreement with Nepal. The Koshi Pradhikar, established through the cabinet decision of the Bihar state assembly, however, is a quasi-autonomous body. It has the political

Environmental justice for the victims  147 gravitas and legal backing of an administrative order. Its position as an autonomous institution to deliver and implement its proposed programs is seriously impaired by lack of any financial autonomy and rules to support its decision-making. Revitalising and strengthening this critical institution and vesting it with legal, administrative and financial autonomy are of vital importance. The roadmap for such an initiative needs to be drawn by all those who have been searching for answers to the complex problems of the Koshi.

Notes 1 Shah, Mihir, Eliminating poverty in Bihar: bottlenecks and paradoxes, Economic and Political Weekly, 6 February 2016. 2 Works of Jawaharlal Nehru (March 1, 1951 to June 30, 1951), edited by S. Gopal, Second Series Volume 16, Part 1, (pp. 17, 30), cited in Arvind Panagariya, Consensus Building and Nehru as quoted in Salman and Uprety, 2000. 3 Central Water and Power Commission as quoted in Salman and Uprety (2003). 4 The Central Water and Power Commission of the Government of India prepared a scheme for harnessing the Koshi River that received the sanction of the Government of India in 1953. 5 Dixit, Ajaya, Water Nepal, ed. 1994, Vol.4. 6 See also for detail on the origin of the Koshi Project, Dinesh Kumar Mishra, ‘Refugees of the Koshi’, in Himal South Asia, August 2000. 7 See also Agreement on the Koshi Project, Kathmandu, April 25, 1954, signed by Gulzari Lal Nanda (India) and Mahabir Shumsher (Nepal) (hereinafter 1954 Agreement). For the text of the Agreement, see http://mea.gov.in/bilateraldocuments.htm?dtl/6156/Revised+Agreement+on+Chose+Project+Annexure+Agree ment+25+April+1954 also available at http://www.moir.gov.np/uploaded/ Revised-Agreement-on-Nepal-and-india-Koshi-river-1966.pdf. 8 See B. G. Verghese and Ramaswamy R. Iyer, eds., Harnessing the Eastern Himalayan Rivers: Regional Cooperation in South Asia (Delhi: Konark, 1994). 9 Revised Agreement on The Koshi Project, Kathmandu, 19 December 1966, signed by Shriman Narayan (India) and Y. P. Pant (Nepal) (hereinafter referred to as the 1966 Agreement or the revised Agreement). For the text of the Agreement, see http://mea.gov.in/bilateraldocuments.htm?dtl/6156/Revised+Ag reement+on+Chose+Project+Annexure+Agreement+25+April+1954 http://www.moir.gov.np/uploaded/Revised-Agreement-on-Nepal-and-indiaKoshi-river-1966.pdf. 10 See Preamble to the 1966 Revised Agreement. Available at http://www.moir.gov. np/uploaded/Revised-Agreement-on-Nepal-and-india-Koshi-river-1966.pdf. 11 Article 1 (ii), the Revised Koshi Agreement, 1966; For details, also see the Annexure A to the Revised Agreement, 1966. 12 Article 1 (iii) Proviso to the Article 1 (iii). 13 Proviso to the Article 1 (iii). 14 Article 2 (ii). 15 Article 2 (i), Project Area under the Revised Agreement means area acquired for the Project. 16 Article 2(i) (ii) (iii). 17 Article 2(iv). 18 Personal interaction with the Secretary Water and Energy Commission Secretariat, Kathmandu, Nepal, 2017. 19 Article 3(i). 20 Article 5 (iv). 21 Article 8 (i)(a).

148  Shawahiq Siddiqui 2 Article 8 (i)(b). 2 23 Article 8 (iii). 24 Exchange of Letters between HMG Nepal and the Government of India on 29 December 1966. 25 Article 4 (i): ‘HMG [His Majesty’s Government] shall have every right to withdraw for irrigation and for any other purpose in Nepal water from the Koshi River and from the SunKoshi River or within the Koshi Basin from any other tributaries of the Koshi River as may be required from time to time. The Union shall have the right to regulate all the balance of supplies in the Koshi River at the barrage site thus available from time to time and to generate power in the Eastern Canal.’ 26 Article 4 (ii). 27 Article 6 (i). 28 Article 10 and Article 11. 29 Article 6 (iii). 30 Article 6 (iv). 31 Article 9 (iii). 32 Article 14 (i). 33 Article 14 (ii). 34 Article 15. 35 Article 15 (ii)(c). 36 Article 8. 37 Proviso to Article 8, the Revised Koshi Agreement, 1966. 38 Article 5, which further provides that sovereignty and territorial jurisdiction of Nepal in respect of such lands will remain unimpaired by such transfer. 39 Article 4 (i) HMG shall have every right to withdraw for irrigation and for any other purpose in Nepal water from the Koshi River and from the Sun-Koshi River or within the Koshi Basin from any other tributaries of the Koshi River as may be required from time to time. The Union shall have the right to regulate all the balance of supplies in the Koshi River at the barrage site thus available from time to time and to generate power in the Eastern Canal. 40 Article 4 (ii). 41 Infra, note 21. 42 Mishra D.K., Koshi and the Embankment Story, Economic and Political Weekly, November 15, 2008 43 Originally available as Koshi Peedit Vikas Pradhikar ke Prastavit Karyakram, April 28, 1987, published by the Public Information Department Government of Bihar; Jan Shakti Printing Press, Amarnath Road, Patna.

References Bhasin, A.S., ed. 1970. Documents on Nepal s Relations with India and China, 1949–1966, pp. 156–163, New Delhi, India: Academic Books. Dhungel, D. N. & Pun, S.B., eds. 2009. The Nepal-India Water Relationship: Challenges. Kathmandu: Springer Science & Business Media. Maharjan, K. 2018. ‘Political Ecology of Water Governance in South Asia: A Case Study of the Koshi River Communities’. PhD Thesis submitted to the Faculty of Science, School of Geosciences, The University of Sydney, Australia available at https://ses.library.usyd.edu.au/handle/2123/19749 Mishra, D. K. 1996. Thus Come the Floods, Barh Mukti Abhiyan. Bihar-Patna, India: Bilingual Booklet. Mishra, D. K. 2008. Trapped between the Devil and the Deep Waters – Story of Bihar’s Kosi River. New Delhi, India: People’s Science Institute & SANDRAP.

Environmental justice for the victims  149 Postel, S. & Richter, B. 2012. Rivers for Life: Managing Water ffor People aand Nature. Washington, DC: Island Press. Revised Agreement on the Koshi Project. 1966. Revised Agreement between His Majesty’s Government of Nepal and the Government of India on the Koshi Project, 1966. Salman, M. S. & Uprety, K. 2003. ‘Conflict and Cooperation on South Asia’s International Rivers, A Legal Perspective’. In: International and National Water Law and Policy Series Ed. Van Puymbroeck, R. V. Washington, DC: The World Bank.

7 Benefits and burden A case study of Gandak River Agreement Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla

In South Asia, sharing of transboundary rivers has been a cause of tension between India (upper riparian) and Pakistan (lower riparian), between India (upper riparian) and Bangladesh (lower riparian), and between Nepal (upper riparian) and India (lower riparian). Conflicting claims over water resources continue to be a major challenge, though many treaties – India-Pakistan: Indus Treaty (1960); Nepal-India: Koshi: (1954, 1966); Gandak: (1959, 1964); and Mahakali/Sharada (1996) and Bangladesh-India (1996) – have been signed to harness rivers, obtain benefits and build trust. Yet there is no cooperative water governance of transboundary rivers in South Asia except construction-guided framework specified by the treaties. The atmosphere of mistrust prevailing between countries has exacerbated water degradation, and as climate change proceeds, the number of poor and marginalised families will increase.1 Past agreements on transboundary rivers have allowed building of projects, but the participating governments have not critically assessed the performance of the investment within countries jointly, nor have they made efforts to assess existing challenges including those emerging due to climate change and other change processes. Water challenges are embedded in a few core questions of governance: How, by whom, and under what conditions are the different approaches to water use and management designed and selected? Responses also need answers to questions such as: What specific lessons do past projects, particularly transboundary investments, provide? How is water allocated and managed within existing regimes of treaties and what are the distributional impacts? Who has benefitted and who has been negatively impacted and why? What incentives do individuals and groups face and how do those shape their perceptions of – and responses to – emerging water problems? What types of information are collected for decision-making, who analyses, and who has access to them? To chart a new path of cooperation, answers to a few additional questions are needed: At what scale should solutions be sought? What adaptive measures can be promoted to deal with changes in the local and regional hydrological cycles due to climate change? How can development, use and management of transboundary rivers be approached in a way that their harnessing is mutually rewarding and contributes to improve the social, economic and ecological health?

Benefits and burden  151 Answers to these questions must be sought to minimise impacts from increasingly frequent floods, droughts and water scarcity. In many places, flood plains and settlements have become more susceptible to floods. The performance of many irrigation canals has been poor, and embankments have led to waterlogging. Embankments also prevent floodwaters from reaching the flood plains, depositing fertile silt on land, and thus hamper soil build-up that helps agricultural productivity. Changes in flow regimes, sedimentation and pollution intertwine with haphazard urbanisation, landuse changes, social and political sources of vulnerability, further threatening livelihoods of the poor and marginalised. In addition, competing and often conflicting priorities add to the challenges of equitable use of water in ecologically sensitive ways. The examination of the performance of canals, hydropower projects, and other infrastructures like roads and flood mitigation measures implemented under the 1959 Agreement has provided lessons useful as evidence in public dialogue on transboundary water governance. Governments, as key repositories of people’s welfare, need to be aware of the lessons and use their agency to take steps to address existing problems and design appropriate strategies for responding to emerging challenges. This dialogue must include users, researchers and civil society actors, along with government departments and the private sector, as participants. In such dialogues, participants should be encouraged to examine the assumptions behind policymaking, assess the performance of infrastructure built and suggest direction for equitable and sustainable solutions.

Gandak River Basin The Gandak River Basin (GaRB) lies between the Koshi and Karnali river basins and drains Nepal’s central region. It has a total area of 34,960 km2, 5,334 km2 of which lies in the Tibetan plateau. The basin includes high mountain peaks like Annapurna and Dhaulagiri as well as at least 338 glacial lakes.2 The GaRB is one of the four snow-fed Himalayan basins in Nepal with seven major snow-fed tributaries, namely Trishuli, Budhi Gandaki, Marsyangdi, Seti, Daraundi, Madi and Kali Gandaki. The Kali Gandaki, which is also known as Krishna Gandaki in Nepal, begins in the Tibetan plateau north of the Annapurna and Dhaulagiri ranges and has a prehistoric origin. As the Himalayan range began to rise, following the collision of the Indian and Eurasian plates, the river began cutting through the range and flowing through what has become the deepest gorge in the world (Figure 7.1). The Kali Gandaki and Trishuli merge upstream of Devghat in Nepal, from where the augmented river enters the Chitwan Valley. From this confluence onwards, the river is called Sapta Gandaki (Seven Gandaki) or Narayani in Nepal. In the Chitwan Valley, it turns westwards before veering south and cutting through the Chure-Daaunne hills (Siwalik/Chure) reaching the Nepal–India border at Bhaisalotan. The Siwalik range produces a major

152  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla

Figure 7.1  Gandak Basin and Ganga River’s Tributary basins in Nepal and Tibet.

transition in the morphology and flow of rivers coming from the upper mountains. Before cutting through the Siwalik, the East Rapti River and the Riu Khola join Narayani in the Chitwan Valley. The augmented river enters West Champaran in north Bihar. Known as Gandak in India, the river joins Ganga west of Patna. The topography has a significant influence on the temperature and precipitation patterns of the GaRB. The basin gets most of its rainfall from the monsoon winds that blow from the Bay of Bengal between June and September. This southwesterly monsoon brings 80 per cent of the basin’s annual precipitation of about 1,800 mm. The remaining 20 per cent of precipitation is the result of westerly disturbances and pre-monsoon weather events. During the monsoon months, the region receives a light drizzle rainfall to cloudbursts at times. On higher slopes, snowfall is common, and its melt as well as that of glaciers sustain the flows in the dry season. Rainfall has macro, meso, and micro characteristics as the orographic effect causes large local variations in rainfall within a single valley. A cloudburst over one ridge might generate more than 500 mm of rainfall in 24 hours while another ridge might be totally dry.3 The people living in GaRB report that rainfall patterns are changing; their assertion is confirmed by historical trends. Unfortunately, Nepal has few rainfall stations to allow for detailed analyses of microclimates and ongoing changes. The mean flow of the Narayani River at Devghat is 1,600 m3/s. The minimum and peak flood flows are 190 and 21,000 m3/s, respectively, and the river transfers 7.5 ­million m3 of sediment annually (Figure 7.2).4

Benefits and burden  153

Figure 7.2  The Gandak Basin. Source: Dixit and Shukla 2017.

Initial intervention The colonial British government had been contemplating using the Gandak River for irrigation from as early as the 1870s. During this period, north Bihar and north-eastern Uttar Pradesh had experienced recurrent monsoon failures and droughts. The persistent droughts intertwining with the prevailing political economy heightened food deficiency, loss of local livelihoods, and famine.5 In 1871, a plan proposed to build use the Gandak River through an irrigation canal, but this did not materialise for two reasons. First, the investment required was fairly large; and second, technical knowledge and capacity to build the infrastructure had not been well established, at least not at that time. Despite the lack of basic information on river hydrology, sediment discharge and river behaviour, the construction of a side intake on the Gandak River began in 1897. The system with an intake linked to 98 km of main and 298 km of secondary canals, completed in 1914, was expected to provide seasonal irrigation to 109,200 ha land in Champaran. Problems associated with control and distribution of water, however, jeopardised the canal’s operation, which did not meet the objectives: provide supplemental irrigation and a relief from droughts.6 Regardless, the British engineers kept open the possibility of building a barrage in the river. This proposal, a barrage in the Gandak River and a network of canals, took tangible shape in the late 1940s when its design, aimed at providing

154  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla year-round irrigation in north-eastern Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, was prepared. The barrage was to be built at Bhaisalotan, downstream of the ­Siwalik (Chure) hills in Nepal. Successful completion of the barrages on the Mahakali/Sharada and Koshi rivers in 1928 and 1959 along the Nepal– India border had provided confidence for undertaking the design and construction of the Gandak barrage. Unlike the Sharada and Koshi barrages, which are built further south of the foothills, the Gandak barrage was built on a narrower flood plain just south of the Siwalik range, and at the Nepal– India border.

Gandak River Agreement The 1959 Gandak Agreement formed the basis for the construction of the barrage, a canal network serving territories in India and Nepal, a hydropower plant to supply energy to Nepal, as well as afflux bunds, spurs and embankments. The opposition political parties in Nepal questioned the 1959 Agreement signed by the Nepali Congress Government. They argued that the provision of benefit sharing, including restrictive arrangement on the use of water, had compromised Nepal’s rights and was contrary to the interests of the country. Later, in 1964, some provisions of the Agreement were revised. One particularly objectionable provision was Clause 9 of the Agreement. It stated: His Majesty’s Government will continue to have the right to withdraw for irrigation or any other purpose from the river or its tributaries in Nepal and such supplies of water as may be required by them from time to time, and His Majesty’s Government agrees that they shall not exercise this right in such manner as is likely in the opinion of the parties hereto prejudicially to affect the water requirements of the Project as set out in the schedule annexed hereto. In Appendix II of the agreement, a table of monthly water schedule seeking assurance of delivery of water as demanded in the eastern and western canals serving territories in India was included. Clause 10 was another problematic provision. It stated: Whenever the supply of water available for irrigation falls short of the requirements of the total area under the Project for which irrigation has to be provided, the shortage shall be shared on pro rata basis between the Government of India and His Majesty’s Government. In 1964, Clause 9 was revised as follows: His Majesty’s Government will continue to have the right to withdraw for irrigation or any other purpose from the river or its tributaries in

Benefits and burden  155 Nepal and such supplies of water as may be required by them from time to time in the Valley. For the trans-valley uses of Gandak waters, separate agreements between His Majesty’s Government and the Government of India will be entered into for the uses of waters in the months of February to April only. Clause 10 was deleted and a new provision was added: ‘Also, the head regulator of the Don Branch Canal shall be operated by His Majesty’s Government keeping in view the irrigation requirements of areas irrigated by this branch canal in India and Nepal.’ The revisions gave Nepal the right to draw upstream water for irrigation and other purposes. However, the revision did not allow trans-valley use in the pre-monsoon months of February, March and April without a separate agreement. The agreement would give the Indian government the authority to build the barrage to modify the flow of the Gandak River at Bhaisalotan to meet irrigation, hydropower and flood mitigation objectives under the Gandak Barrage Irrigation and Power Project (GIPP).

Project components After the signing of the agreement, the construction of the project began in 1963 and was completed in 1968 at a total cost of IRs 520.3 million. Under the project, the following infrastructures were constructed (Table 7.1). Irrigation: The GIPP was designed to provide irrigation in north-west Bihar as well as in the doab, upstream of the confluence of the Ghaghara and Gandak rivers in north-east Uttar Pradesh. The total area to be irrigated in the two states was 1.784 million ha. Nepal, for its part, was to receive 8.5 m3/s of water from the barrage via the Nepal West Gandak Canal (NWGC) to irrigate 8,700 ha of land in the Nawalparasi District. In addition, the Nepal Eastern Canal (NEC) with a capacity of 24.1 m3/s and irrigating 37,000 ha of land in Nepal’s Bara, Parsa and Rautahat districts was to be built. The NEC would receive supply from the Don Canal, which in turn receives supply from the Gandak Eastern Canal. The areas irrigating Bara, Parsa and Rautahat districts are outside the Gandak Basin; therefore, their context and performance in Nepal are not discussed in this chapter. In addition, the West Gandak Canal (WGC), which supplies water to Uttar Pradesh, has outlets to feed into two smaller canals, Parsauni and Piparati, with capacities of 0.62 and 1.25 m3/s, respectively, serving 1,600 ha in Southern Parasi (Figure 7.3). Hydropower: Taking advantage of the canal drop in the WGC, a lowhead (6.09 m) hydropower plant with a capacity of 15 MW, the first lowhead plant in the country, was built at Surajpura, Nepal at the cost of NRs 170 million. The plant with three horizontal low-head, high-discharge turbines, each with a capacity of 5 MW, was commissioned in 1979. The plant with a design that specified annual electricity output of 106.38 GWh would direct it to the Integrated Nepal Power System at Bardaghat.7

156  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla Table 7.1  Infrastructure developed under the GIPP Main Feature Barrage

Left Bank Head Regulator

Right Bank Head Regulator

Length 739.33 m 36 bays each of 18.29 m span

444.77 m /s Feed Eastern Main Canal (EMC)

532.77 m3/s Feed West Gandak Canal (WGC)

Components

Details

Served Areas

3

Benefits (India) Irrigation

EMC

Northwest Bihar (152 × 106 ha): Gopalgunj, Siwan, Saran, West and East Champaran, Mujjafarpur, Vaiali and Samastipur districts Uttar Pradesh (300,000 ha): Maharajgunj, Gorakhpur, Deoria and Padrauna districts

WGC

Benefits (Nepal) Irrigation

Gandak Hydropower Plant (Surajpura) Bridge Other components

Nepal West Gandak Canal (NWGC) 8.5 m3/s Nepal East Canal (NEC) 24.1 m3/s 15 MW

Nawalparasi District (16,000 ha) Bara, Parsa and Rautahat districts (37,000 ha) Connected to Integrated Nepal Power System

Over barrage

Opens routes to travel to Mujjafarpur, Haajipur and Patna Villages within areas served by GIPP

Service roads and crossings

Other infrastructure: The GIPP also included a bridge on the Gandak barrage, service roads on canals, and bridges over rivers flowing through Nawalparasi and India (Uttar Pradesh and Bihar). Opened to the public, the service roads allow vehicular traffic, making commuting easy within the command areas. In Parasi, connectivity improved, and subsequently the north-south roads linking the service roads to the East-West highway were built. Along the roads, local markets have gradually emerged functioning as centres for supply of agricultural inputs and as outlets for local agricultural products. The service road on the WGC provides links to the Maheshpur border checkpoint in Nepal and, through this point, to Maharajgunj and

Benefits and burden  157

Figure 7.3  The area served by NWGC. Source: Dixit and Shukla 2017.

Gorakhpur, two major commercial centres in Uttar Pradesh. Similarly, the bridge over the barrage is an alternative route to Mujjafarpur, Haajipur and Patna, the commercial centres in Bihar.8

Distribution of benefits and cost The following section covers the emerging dynamics of benefits and costs from the GIPP to households served by NWGC which covers 32.6 per cent of the area in Nawalparasi. Irrigation and Agriculture: Before the NWGC was constructed, farmers in Nawalparasi used small streams and natural drains to irrigate land in patches. The NWGC and the smaller Piparati and Parsauni canals were completed in 1976 and handed over to the Government of Nepal (GoN) in 1979, and subsequently brought under the control of the GoN’s Department of Irrigation (DoI). The DoI maintains an office in Semari, a town in the area served by the NWGC, from where it coordinates the operation and management of the canal system. The GoI provided support in the construction of the main, secondary and distributary canals in the NWGC, with capacities above 620 l/s. The GoN and local farmers were to develop lower-order canals of capacity less than 620 l/s to distribute water to farm parcels. When the irrigation system was handed over to the GoN, the canals served only half of the command area because smaller distribution canals had not yet been built. In 1982, with support from the Asian Development Bank (ADB), the Command Area Development Project (CADP) was implemented in areas served by the NWGC. The CADP aimed to expand the area under irrigation by developing tertiary

158  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla canals in 50 ha block and within each block farm canals to serve 7–12 ha of land. CADP ended in 1989. Following the phasing out of CADP in 1989, maintenance had been very poor and the canal would supply a mere 2.2 m3/s that would irrigate 4,000 ha, almost half of NWGC’s capacity. Three years later, in 1992, the DoI brought the NWGC as well as the Piparati and Parsauni canals under the Joint Management Programme (JMP). Conceived under the Participatory Irrigation Management Policy, the Programme aimed to share the responsibility for canal operation and management between organised groups of irrigation users and the DoI. In 1995, the Irrigation Management Transfer Project (IMTP), again with support from the ADB, began. The IMPT aimed at strengthening the joint management of the canal systems and improvement of essential infrastructure.9 Under the JMP, the area under irrigation increased, but this lasted only as long as the support was available. With IMTP coming to an end in 2000, the user committees at the main and secondary canal levels became defunct. Maintenance and upkeep further declined and irrigation area coverage declined steadily, too. Currently, in sections, water control mechanisms have deteriorated heavily. Silt deposited in the main canal is cleaned annually, but the distribution and smaller canals remain unmaintained. Overall, the area under irrigation in both the wet and dry seasons have decreased, a continuing trend from 1995, although data after 2003 is not available (Table 7.2). In order to examine the performance of NWGC, we compared the yields of major crops across the head, middle and tail reaches of the canal with the average yields for the adjoining Rupandehi District, whose agro-ecology is similar to that of Parasi.10 While the yields of major crops in the area served by the NWGC are lower than the average crop yields of Rupandehi District, they are also lower than that of the Nawalparasi District and as well as the national average (Table 7.3). Agricultural professionals working in Nawalparasi attribute low performance to slow pace of innovation in agriculture than in other parts of the district and the country. Two reasons, which persist even today, are responsible for the slow pace of innovation. The first is the design limitation of NWGC’s headwork. For water to flow into NWGC, the supply of pond level upstream of the Table 7.2  Irrigation coverage in the NWGC (1995–2003)a Season

Irrigation Coverage (ha) 1992

Wet (monsoon cropping) Dry (winter and spring cropping)

1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000 2001 2002 2003

4,000 7,623 9,825 7,082 7,082 7,082 7,082 7,082 6,500 5,000 2,200 3,800 4,500 4,500 4,500 4,500 4,500 3,500 2,800

Records for the period after 2003 are not available. Source: IOE/TU 2003. a

Benefits and burden  159 Table 7.3  Yields of major crops in the NWGC command area Crop

Yield ton/ha Overall Crop yield (tons/ha) (tons/ by Canal Reach1 ha)

Chitwan Nawalparasi

Rupandehi

National Mean

Head Middle Tail NWGC 2003

2015

2003

2015

2003

2015

Paddy

3.19

2.67

2.80

2.79

3.042

4.022

2.992

4.502

2.882

3.372

Wheat

1.04

1.50

1.96

1.50

2.29

2.85

2.50

3.20

2.06

2

2.592

Lentil

0.28

0.67

0.30

0.40

–

–

–

–

–

–

Rapeseed Mustard

0.28

–

0.71

0.30

0.752

0.452

0.702

0.662

0.712

0.942

–

3.01

3.01

3.01

12.03

–

12.03

–

1.38

–

1.66

2.122

1.772

2.002

4.112

24

22

24

Winter vegetables

Spring Maize 1.94 Sugarcane

28

2

2

2

2

10.952 13.412 1.902

2.432

42.52 30.022 52.552 47.742 37.692 42.452

Source: 1- IOE/TU, 2003; 2- CBS (2015); 3- CBS (2003).

Gandak barrage must be at least 365 m above mean sea level.11 The personnel entrusted by the Government of Bihar (GoB) to operate the barrage gate, most of the time, do not maintain this level. In the rainy season (July– August), operators raise the barrage gates for fear of a flood, and in the dry season (January–April), the gates are opened to dredge the reservoir. The canal heads of WGC and EMC are also closed to undertake repair and maintenance and to remove the silt deposited in them. Theoretically, the NWGC should not face any limitation in supply in the monsoon and the winter season, but in reality, supply is unreliable. The second reason is the deficient maintenance and upkeep of canals and their control structures. The canals were designed to offer flexibility in the distribution of water, and at every turnout, check structures were provided for farmers to receive water according to their need. The check structures, however, have become a cause for siltation in the main canal. The NWGC at the intake, head and middle reaches is mostly not maintained, and silt deposits have reduced its cross-sectional area, lowering its capacity to convey the designed discharge. The performance of the Piparati and Parsauni canals is no better than that of the NWGC. Both canals receive water from the outlets provided in the WGC, but receive supply only when the required water level in the WGC is maintained – a decision, again, dependent on the barrage operators under GoB. In addition, both Piparati and Parsauni canals are so heavily silted that their capacities are lower than designed: only half the designed

160  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla area is irrigated.12 When the WGC is shut down for maintenance in the late winter and spring seasons, these two canals receive no water.13 It had been expected that the NWGC, along with the Piparati and ­Parsauni canals, by supporting year-round irrigation, would help to diversify crops and increase the cropping intensity and agricultural productivity, enhancing livelihoods of the farming communities. As it turned out, unreliable water supply in the canal has not encouraged farmers to diversify their cropping systems, introduce high-value crops or switch to commercial farming. Thus, the cropping system continues to be largely conventional cereal-based, except in the canal’s middle and tail reaches where a small number of affluent farmers cultivate vegetables. After 1995, the area under sugarcane cultivation increased. Initially, Mahendra Sugar Mills, established in the late 1960s in Bhairahawa, Rupandehi District, has encouraged farmers to grow sugarcane in Nawalparasi where, subsequently, three sugar factories were established. Bagmati Sugar Mill and Indira Sugar Mill were built within the command area of the NWGC, and Lumbini Sugar Mills, which is the largest sugar factory in the country, was constructed in Sunwal, a town north of the area served by the NWGC. In 2003, on 8,500 ha of land of Parasi, 420,000 metric tonnes (MT) of sugarcane was produced, but by 2013, production had declined to 266,000 MT and the area cultivated reduced to 7,020 ha.14 The coverage had further declined to 5,000 ha in 2016. One reason for this decline is that farmers have little incentive to invest in sugarcane cultivation, which is more water- and input-intensive compared to a rice paddy. The mill owners do not make payments to farmers on time; payments are often delayed by months or even years, which adds to the disincentive. Floods and inundation: Flooding in Nawalparasi has two dimensions. First is the case of land area around the NWGC and the WGC. The two canals intercept the north–south flow of tributary streams and impede natural flow. Because the capacity of cross-drainage works in the canals is deficient and poorly maintained, the area within NWGC remains inundated for more than three months in the monsoon and early winter, taking a large swath of land – about one-third of the command area adjacent to the WGC – out of crop cultivation. Regular flooding from the Gandak River has a pronounced impact on the region downstream of the barrage. Floods from the Rohini, Tinau and Banganga rivers that drain the region west of Daunne hills regularly affect parts of the Nawalparasi, Rupandehi, Kapilvastu, and downstream areas in Uttar Pradesh. Floods in the Rohini and its eastern tributaries affect the Nawalparasi, including its southern parts, on both sides of the Nepal–India border. The 1998 monsoon months were very wet when extreme rainfall led to widespread flooding of Nawalparasi and north-eastern Uttar Pradesh.15 The floods affected 279 families in Nawalparasi and washed away a large area of land, damaging property worth over Rs. 680,000. Uttar Pradesh lost 1.393 million ha of crops in the same flood. After a hiatus of nine years,

Benefits and burden  161 in 2007, and again in 2013 and 2014, the region suffered severe flooding during the monsoon. Breaches in embankment and afflux bund are common. In July 2002, the right afflux bund on the Narayani River’s bank near Tribeni Bazaar in Nepal breached 1.5 km upstream of the barrage. The floodwater flowing through the breach smashed the NWGC and the WGC in Nepal, submerging the land in between the canals for months. The floodwater washed away crops and property, affecting areas as far as Maharajgunj and Gorakhpur in Uttar Pradesh. The afflux bund and embankment were designed to safely withstand a discharge as high as 24,087.85 m3/s but failed even though the river discharge was lower, about 17,003.19 m3/s.16 The breaches in embankments raise questions about their ability to hold swelling rivers, as well as preventing their erosion and flooding. Had there been any lessons learned from this breach, it was that the Koshi embankment breach disaster that occurred in 2008 could have been avoided.17 The responsibility of maintenance of canals and embankments in the GIPP, with the exception of the canals that serve areas in Nawalparasi, rests with the Water Resources departments of the states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar. But maintenance is deficient. Clogging of siphons meant to drain rainwater across the WGC, malfunctioning of the silt ejectors, erosion of the spur and, consequently, that of land and settlements along the river are perennial problems faced by families in Nawalparasi. The first 19-km section of the WGC laid in Nawalparasi is poorly drained, and the seepage from it accumulates on its both sides, thus creating waterlogging on lands. The local farmers have been highlighting the deficient maintenance of the embankments, canals and related problems, including the 2002 breach. Since their voice was unheard, they began organising themselves under the banner of Gandak Nadi Niyantran Sangharsh Samiti (Gandak River Control Struggle Committee) in 2006. The Committee had hoped to exert pressure for proper operation and maintenance of the infrastructure in GIPP. The farmers began organising protests and through the Committee demanded compensation for the loss of crops and land due to the malfunctioning of the infrastructure since the completion of the GIPP (Figure 7.4).18 Because of one such protest by Nepali farmers in the WGC, water was not released from the barrage into the main canal when farmers in Uttar Pradesh needed it the most for planting sugarcane and for rice seedlings. The agitating farmers put forth a twenty-one-point list of demands relating to the damage that they had faced due to the deficient maintenance of the canals, other structures, floods and inundation. The committee framed its demand as follows: ‘With the construction of the Gandak Project there has been change in the direction of flow of Singaha and Rajpura drains; severe waterlogging has resulted in Paklihawa, Narsahi, Rupaulia, Pratappur, Somani, Khairatwa, Guthi Surajpura, Bedauli, and Bhujahawa VDCs.’

162  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla

Figure 7.4  Schematic of the Gandak Barrage, GWC and NWGC. Source: Dixit and Moench 2010.

They demanded that their losses be compensated for and that problem be solved permanently. After several rounds of negotiation with officials of the GoI, the Indian Embassy in Kathmandu and the GoN, a joint working group with experts from Nepal and India was constituted. The group was assigned to study the problem and recommend actions. In addition, the GoN’s Ministry of Irrigation examined the complaint and reported that thirteen villages in the area suffered crop loss and damage to land.19 The losses in crops were worth NRs. 2,646.09 million, damage to land, NRs. 189.45 million, and to property, NRs. 109.56 million. The cumulative total damage was estimated at NRs. 2.94 billion.20 Livelihood challenges: In an ideal scenario, infrastructures in Nepal built under the GIPP should have delivered services and improved local livelihoods through higher income from irrigated agriculture, thereby promoting social and economic development. When adjoining areas in the Nawalparasi District and in other parts of the country had little access to irrigation, road transport, electricity and communication services, the command area served by the NWGC already had these facilities. Yet there was little progress. The socio-economic conditions of the 27,523 households identified as beneficiaries’ households in Parasi’s twenty-two VDCs served by the NWGC were assessed using basic indicators.21 They were: access to drinking water, energy for cooking and lighting, communication, literacy and educational attainment. They were then compared with those of the adjoining districts and the entire country (Tables 7.4–7.6). The findings are not encouraging. Four decades after the project was completed, only 12 per cent of the

Table 7.4  Socio-economic status of households in Nawalparasi served by NWGC VDCs

Source: authors.

Total House holds

Tap/ piped water

2,029 1,747 1,789 1,258 1,698 953 1,656 1,248 906 827 1,143 746 1,088 717 1,251 1,698 1,079 1,086 1,006 1,166 1,044 26,135

504 528 15 16 29 224 11 9 473 219 23 80 14 0 7 20 15 30 255 3 24 2,463

Fuel used for cooking

House­ Tubeholds Firewood well/hand With + cow pump Others toilets dung Biogas LPG 1,350 1,202 1,756 1,206 1,641 692 1,629 1,191 395 577 1,084 641 1,064 704 1,219 1,650 1,053 1,049 740 1,157 984 22,984

159 9 8 31 16 26 3 32 34 24 20 21 6 3 6 16 2 3 6 0 18 443

1116 1054 327 363 783 223 256 192 136 114 235 113 171 93 144 939 271 172 112 145 93 7,052

1764 1593 1690 1167 1257 898 1591 1172 893 803 1103 705 1060 695 1192 1158 1006 1063 983 1120 982 23,895

57 46 14 11 68 5 1 10 1 2 1 1 0 3 8 219 9 0 2 10 2 470

Source of lighting Electri­ city

186 1,586 90 1,540 34 1,410 56 1,030 274 1,443 40 737 7 989 33 650 2 636 8 650 11 857 2 517 10 726 4 471 18 850 231 1,527 43 863 18 892 8 862 17 928 16 882 1,108 20,046

Means of communication

Renewable Telephone (Bio-gas + cellular Radio and solar) (Kerosene) mobile +TV 120 9 3 2 9 3 4 6 1 6 2 3 6 3 7 2 12 8 3 3 15 227

307 190 365 221 234 205 650 158 258 158 267 222 351 233 375 155 195 182 134 228 126 5,214

1436 1123 1174 871 1325 722 841 314 276 346 682 148 557 208 793 1430 800 722 599 734 821 15,922

2159 1857 1080 754 1426 604 605 591 300 483 786 258 479 289 739 1649 495 604 394 497 654 16,703

Means of own conveyance Moto­ rised

Non Moto­ rised

216 152 169 195 365 139 260 146 120 144 126 63 122 66 107 326 190 119 129 104 95 3,353

1595 1440 1595 1097 1445 844 1353 1105 800 745 1044 681 929 611 1090 1434 926 940 884 1045 918 22,521

Benefits and burden  163

Tribenisusta Rupauliya Kudiya Pratappur Jamuniya Narsahi Pakalihawa Guthi Parsauni Baidauli Guthisuryapura Somani Thulo Khairatawa Bhujahawa Rampur Khadauna Badahara Dubauliya Jahada Kusma Harpur Gairami/ germi Sanai Hakui Total

Main source of drinking water

Table 7.5  Demographic details Educational Attainment

Population*

Literacy Rate

Male

Female

Households

Tribenisusta

4,489

5,273

Rupauliya

3,977

4,599

Kudiya

4,888

Pratappur

Primary (1–5)

Total

Male

Female

Male

Female

2,029

68

75.84

62.03

959

676

813

1,747

67

73.54

61.34

1268

1098

1161

363

33

16

1211

36

5,170

1,789

61

71.98

50.98

1700

1362

1137

23

731

39

3,697

3,704

1,258

61

72.92

48.87

1116

889

14

1211

720

64

Jamuniya

4,413

4,812

1,698

68

78.44

58

1324

27

1074

1591

1266

97

Narsahi

2,886

3,129

953

55.47

67.97

44.02

43

922

740

700

439

19

Pakalihawa

5,261

5,193

1,656

53

64.21

8

42.45

1773

1295

1242

694

30

12

Guthi Parsauni

4,036

3,797

1,248

53

Baidauli

3,077

2,927

906

55

63.8

41.92

1205

881

961

476

93

48

67.55

41.39

959

676

813

363

33

Guthisuryapura

2,796

2,677

827

16

61

73.88

46.85

847

609

930

475

52

Somani

3,333

3,438

18

1,143

63

76.99

49.26

1133

848

1052

614

37

5

Thulo Khairatawa

2,500

Bhujahawa

3,294

2,313

746

57

69.84

43.31

840

550

651

295

22

9

3,176

1,088

54

66.41

40.98

1012

690

795

374

47

13

Rampur Khadauna

2,272

2,226

717

Badahara Dubauliya

3,665

3,782

1,251

53.01

65.15

40.54

656

491

672

322

36

9

49

61.39

36.69

1098

782

889

466

39

Jahada

3,955

4,504

5

1,698

71

80.98

63.3

1009

990

1631

1463

74

21

Kusma

3,270

Harpur

2,963

3,488

1,079

63

76.53

49.61

1082

909

904

431

56

19

3,185

1,086

58

69.33

48.2

872

828

830

445

38

Gairami/germi

13

3,008

3,037

1,006

56

68.19

44.07

864

703

829

406

33

9

Sanai

3,543

3,616

1,166

59

72.8

44.85

1059

861

1031

485

35

6

Hakui Total/Average

3,016 74339

3,300 77346

1,044 26,135

61 59

74.95 71.08

49.01 47.98

848 22,546

777 17,729

998

535 12,574

27 940

0 334

* The female population is not representative of Nepal’s demography.

Male

Female

Secondary (5–12) Male

20,841

Female

Tertiary (Graduate and above)

164  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla

Name of VDCs

Benefits and burden  165 households living in the areas of the twenty-two VDCs have access to piped drinking water supply, 28 per cent have toilets in their homes, 91 per cent still use firewood and cow dung patties to meet energy needs for cooking, 77 per cent are connected to electricity, 66 per cent have access to radio and television, 62 per cent own landline or cellular phones and 12 per cent have a four-wheeled vehicle or a motorcycle of their own (Table 7.6). Similarly, male and female literacy in the VDCs stands at 78.48 per cent and 48.86 per cent, respectively, with an overall rate of 60 per cent. Only 959 men and 341 women have made it through the tertiary-level education. The percentage of male and female population having passed s­econdary-level education stands at 28 per cent and 17 per cent, respectively. Only 30 per cent of male and 23 per cent of female population have completed formal schooling from grades 4 to 6. Clearly, the households served by the NWGC are poorer compared to those of the Nawalparasi District and the adjoining districts of Chitwan and Rupandehi (Table 7.6) when access to basic amenities is compared. Table 7.6.  Socio-economic status of households served by NWGC, Nawalparasi, Rupandehi and Chitwan districts Attributes

Total Households Households with piped drinking water Households with toilet Households using fuel wood and cow dung as energy for cooking Households with electricity Households with radio and television Households with telephone and cellular mobile phone Households with own motorise vehicle Literacy rate

VDCs in Parasi served by Gandak Project

Districts Nawalparasi

Rupandehi

Chitwan

27,523 (100) 2,463 (12)

128,760 (100) 163,835 (100) 132,345 (100) 51,829 (40) 62,904 (38) 46,289 (35)

7,052 (28)

79,826 (62)

95,883 (59)

124,523 (94)

23,895 (91)

98,273 (76)

95,883 (59)

65,144 (49)

20,046 (77)

104,202 (81)

132,073 (81)

113,728 (86)

16,703 (65)

118,814 (92)

132,054 (81)

132,000 (100)

15,922 (62)

104,656 (81)

143,106 (87)

122,341 (92)

3,353(12)

15,947 (12)

31,335 (19)

29,295 (22)

59

70

80

87

166  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla These statistics reveal that socioeconomic development of the people and the VDCs are very slow. Part of the reasons are recurrent damage to land and crops by flooding, poor irrigation coverage, lower crop yields and low level of innovations in the diversification of crops. An examination of the performance of the Gandak Barrage Project in India does not paint an encouraging picture. The GIPP serves an area of 1.4 million ha in Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, areas facing acute poverty and food insecurity. The GIPP has not increased agricultural productivity, income opportunities and livelihoods in most of the areas in the two Indian states which are below the level expected in the designs. The project, however, has not significantly improved agricultural productivity in its command areas: the utilisation of irrigation potential ranges from 56 per cent to 69 per cent. In 1975, the GoB created the Gandak Area Development Agency (GADA) for integrated development of the command areas of the canal systems in the state. GADA was to coordinate the efforts of agricultural intensification through infrastructure and technology support. This input did lead to increase in cropping intensity: 115 per cent before GADA to 157 per cent by the end of 2000. The productivity of paddy (rice) increased from 0.76 t/ha to 1.37 t/ha in the same period and that of wheat from 1.48 t/ha to 1.98 t/ha. Yet productivities of paddy and wheat are lower than the achievable potential in areas with irrigation facilities, and anecdotal evidence suggests that the farmers in the command area continue to face social and economic hardship.22 Findings The 1959 Gandak Agreement accomplished what it had set out to do: construct the Gandak barrage and its appurtenances. It falls far short of expectation when examined from the perspectives of the management of the allocated water, increase in agricultural production, improved security from floods, alleviation of poverty, reduction of vulnerability, and the promotion of overall well-being of the households in the area served by NWGC. The GIPP neither yielded the promised benefits nor served the interests of the people of the area as designed. In areas around NWGC, the rivers and streams flow from north to south, while the canals are generally aligned east to west, which disrupts local hydrology. Few cross-drainage structures are provided, and those that exist have narrow waterways. They are poorly maintained. Thus, water accumulates upstream of the canals, inundating a prime agricultural area. These challenges have remained outside the attention of the governments and come to the surface only when civic activists highlight them. Even while Nepali and Indian governments repeatedly find themselves having to provide relief to those affected by floods, at transboundary level, there is no dialogue on mitigating the risks of flood disaster. No institutional mechanism for consultation is in place, for example, to address the

Benefits and burden  167 challenges related to flooding, except for the Nepal–India Standing Committee on Inundation.23 Even while these conditions persist, climate change has emerged as a more pressing concern as new stresses in the Gandak and other rivers and likely to become more intense and serious in the future. In the monsoon season, peak flows may exceed the capacity of the built infrastructure and change the sedimentation behaviour of rivers, heightening flood risks. In a drought year, on the other hand, low flow amounts lower further, thereby decreasing the availability of water and making delivery of water from the barrage to the NWGC more uncertain.19 Climate change will also induce mineralisation and cause loss of soil nutrients, increase in crop diseases, and increased water needs for irrigation and household uses and for the riverine ecosystems. These changes will further lower agricultural production in the NWGC and adjoining areas, thus undermining water productivity and its role in supporting the local socio-economic upliftment. We summarise the following challenges: Benefits and costs: The benefits planned in the designs of the GIPP did not materialise. For instance, the canals serve a smaller area than planned and, as per farmers’ complaint, there is little coordination between them and the operators of the barrages. Water is released irregularly and without prior consultation, though farmers repeatedly request the operators of the barrage to release it according to schedule. Farmers have no role in ensuring the regular delivery of water to the canal, though they do recognise the importance of their participation in this task and capacity building needed for undertaking it. Similarly, the operators do not have incentives or imperatives to meet these needs of the farmers. Both GoN and the GoI have not been successful in meeting their obligation in maintaining and upgrading the built infrastructure. Inability has meant that the benefits have been less and the investment has not contributed to well-being. Only well-maintained infrastructure can deliver quality services that will help households and communities to deal with different shocks. Groundwater use: In the absence of a dependable supply from the NWGC, large numbers of farmers have invested in developing shallow tube wells for supplemental irrigation in the monsoon and to grow crops in the winter and spring seasons. Farmers practice conjunctive use of canal and groundwater during the monsoon and winter months, while groundwater is the only source in the spring season, with more than half of the farmers maintaining one or more shallow tube wells.24 The smallholders, who do not have tube wells and pumps of their own, pay rent for tube wells and pumps to those who own the equipment, leading to the growth of a market for groundwater extraction.25 There are two consequences of dependence of farmers on groundwater for irrigation. The first is the increase in the cost of crop production. Smallholders cannot compete with larger producers in the market and are put at a disadvantage.26 In addition, they cannot compete with the cheaper

168  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla agricultural produce from across the border that gets free entry in the local markets. These products are comparatively cheaper due to high agricultural subsidy provided by the state governments in India. Though not yet a serious issue in Parasi, overreliance on the use of groundwater for irrigation could lead to lowering of water tables. This could mix with changes in a recharge pattern, exacerbating future risks. Shallow aquifers in Nepal’s Tarai are recharged locally through rainfall and accumulated runoff as they flow through local landscape. In the future, as urbanisation along the roads and highways may lead to the conversion of agricultural land into built-up and paved areas, recharge of the groundwater table may be impeded, leading to its lowering. It could increase constraints on the use of groundwater for irrigation and meeting drinking water needs. Operation and maintenance: The operation, management and maintenance of canals and barrages are grossly inadequate. Sediment deposits in canals and siphons reduce their capacity to convey water. When water ceases to flow below a blocked section, it spills over the sides of the canals, causing significant damage to the banks and agricultural fields nearby. The metal sluice gates in the embankments have rusted and cannot be opened and closed easily to regulate the flow. Thus, water ends up inundating the land outside the embankments and causing waterlogging. Low performance has eroded people’s confidence in the capacity of state agencies to deliver services. The farmers face additional challenges because local farmers’ institutions have limited capacity to deliver the designed services. Agricultural extension: The decline in sugarcane production in area served by NWGC also reflects structural challenges of irrigated agriculture in Nepal. Theoretically, tropical climate, sandy loam soil and availability of irrigation water in the area can create ideal agro-ecology for sugarcane production. With these attributes, the area served by NWGC was identified suitable for growing sugarcane. Initially, the acreage under sugarcane increased, but it started to decline because farmers did not get right prices for their produce. The delayed payments by sugar factories to farmers created disincentives to continue cultivation. And addressing this would need government support to synchronise with interest of sugarcane farmers and sugar factory operators through support of knowledge, technology and assurance of correct price for the produce at the right time. The existing institutional mechanism, however, fails to create such incentives. Road transportation: The tops of the canals along the banks are used as roads connecting villages to each other and market centers. Many settlements within the command area are still waiting for road connections. The demand for new roads has increased as road construction is seen as a prerequisite to other forms of development. Roads increase people’s connectivity to markets, schools, health posts and hospitals, apart from allowing people to commute from where they live to where they work. Though these roads have increased connectivity, they are poorly maintained, and in some places, people have built authorised houses along the service roads.

Benefits and burden  169 The prevailing approach, however, is to design, construct and operate new roads, bridges and culverts without considering their implications for peak floods or, for that matter, the impact of floods on roads. The border areas in Nepal’s Tarai, including Nawalparasi, suffer from backwater effects due to building of highways, embankments and the afflux bunds of barrages on small streams across the border in India. This was experienced in 1998, 2002, 2007, 2013, 2014 and 2017, when Nawalparasi (Parasi), Rupandehi and Kapilvastu faced widespread inundation due to excessive rainfall and constrained local drainage. However, this issue remains largely unaddressed despite the fact that inundation degrades water sources and decreases well-being. Compensation and community activism: Many people who were involuntarily displaced when the barrage and related structures were constructed in the 1960s have still not been compensated. At the same time, losses due to inundation, sand deposition and bank erosion have been increasing. These impacts on local communities are treated as bureaucratic problems rather than as a social challenge. Local civil society actors highlight the issue of unpaid compensation, but their voices remain unheard. Over the years, affected households and communities have persistently been demanding improvements in service delivery, sharing of legitimate benefits, and new livelihood opportunities. Affected families, through the establishment of the Gandak River Control Struggle Committee, have demanded compensation and rehabilitation. This attempt at organisation has helped their voices to be heard at the local, national and transnational levels. Earlier, their demands for compensation had not received a fair hearing. The alignment of powerful forces pushing for top-down solutions often cast aside grassroots issues and concerns. Only when local communities were organised with support from intermediaries with evidence and knowledge base were they able to engage the government agencies and political leaders and thus were paid compensation for their displacement by the project. Social activists have been highlighting disjunctions between the promises made and services delivered. Civic activism may appear adversarial in a polity that seeks domination of one voice, that of the state, but it is actually a fundamental aspect of a society’s progression towards participatory democracy, within which space for civic activism must be nurtured. Organised civil activists can help to balance power between local and national institutions in maintaining services and integrity of local ecosystems.

Ways forward This chapter has highlighted a key point related with the capacity of the state. Irrespective of the geopolitical dimension involved in transboundary water development and management, the ability of states ‘to pursue particular results on water will remain on par with their ability to produce

170  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla results on economic performance or access to justice or education’.27 In the case of GIPP, this limitation has been stark. The limitation also has been imbedded in the functioning of the government water departments across all countries of South Asia. Regardless, governments have the primary responsibility for developing and managing public irrigation canals, rivers and water resources. Unfortunately, the prevailing practice is not helping either to meet the needs of multiple users, including natural ecosystems, or to avert creeping water crises. Without entering into the debate of revising the provisions of the Gandak Agreement or quantum of benefit sharing, which requires entirely different sets of discussions, this chapter suggests that the management of infrastructure in the GIPP should be improvised and the burden on local communities minimised. Many of the problems in the operations of the barrage and canals can be overcome by improving consultations between local officials of India and Nepal. They must work together to develop a mutually agreedupon standard operating procedure of the GIPP to meet its objectives. The procedure should include actions like releasing the agreed amount of water (discharge) from the canal head according to irrigation schedule, regularly maintaining gates and sluices for timely operation, and cleaning canals. In addition, siphons and aqueducts must be cleaned to ensure that the natural drainage paths of rivers remain unobstructed, allowing flood passage without backwater effects. That said, irrigation in itself is insufficient to bring about desired changes in productivity, income and improvement in farmers’ livelihoods. Improved access to knowledge on farming issues, technological support and strengthened extension mechanisms for quality seeds, fertiliser, crop protection, market infrastructure and connectivity are necessary. Without them, irrigation water alone, even if delivered, will not bring multiplier effects on agricultural productivity, household’s income and local economy. A water use system consists of various water sources, rivers and aquatic biodiversity, infrastructures and human organisations that govern, operate and manage the infrastructures, provisioning of capital and labour as well as rules, procedures, rights and obligations.28 This chapter shows that the performance of NWCG is determined at the intersection of political, economic, social and ecological realms. Engineers, managers and public policy makers who play a major role in taking decisions about water use, allocation, distribution and management must work in this intersection by involving users and civil society actors as other major stakeholders29 who also play a key role in sustainable use, management and governance of water. Otherwise water management endeavours will remain merely partial remedies, leading to ecological degradation, inefficiency and social inequality. Formulating appropriate public policies, implementing them effectively, and monitoring and revisiting them are key to minimising degradation of rivers, including transboundary water sources. Because the existing governmental check-and-balance mechanism is either feeble or does not work

Benefits and burden  171 effectively, implementation has been ineffective and goals have remained unmet. The primary responsibility to reverse this trend rests with the governments of Nepal and India. This chapter has shown that the governments have taken a very narrow view of the water policy landscape and their strategy has not supported farmers and users to improvise. The availability of public interest litigation and right to information instruments can help farmers, users and local groups to access information for policy compliance and accountability in water governance, and for more effective delivery of services. In the absence of a broad base of accurate information (on the nature of problems, related social and ecological challenges, management options), policies end up pushing technocratic topdown solutions in a prescriptive style of governance.30 Actions that improve both information quality and access to it are important points of leverage for water-sensitive policy responses as foundations of democratic governance. The development, use and management of transboundary water are no different.

Acknowledgement The authors wish to thank Action Aid Nepal for supporting the initial research of this chapter

Notes 1 Langton and Prasai (2006) succinctly summarise the challenges of transboundary water governance in South Asia thus: ‘Although numerous bilateral treaties and agreements that govern water sharing and infrastructure development in the region do exist, deep historical mistrust and chronic political tensions surround their implementation. Nations accuse each other of controlling and damming rivers without regard for international impact, or of monopolising water flows, often without verifiable data or analyses.’ Rowland (2005) suggests, ‘A system for resolving these conflicts must be established now to protect the sustainability of water resources and the welfare of populations.’ 2 See Bajracharya et al. (2014). 3 For discussions of extreme rainfall events, see Dixit and Moench (2006) and NCVST (2009). 4 See Dixit and Moench (2006). 5 Prasad (1997) highlights series of events that led to the famine of 1866, taking a toll of 56,000 human lives. 6 The Tribeni Canal, with its intake about 200 m upstream of the present Gandak Barrage, was completed in 1914, and it functioned for a few years. Its operation, however, was not satisfactory. After the completion of the Gandak Barrage Project, Tribeni canal was amalgamated into the Tirhut Canal. See Prasad (1997). 7 The Surajpura Hydropower Plant faces technical problems, which has lowered its performance. At present, only one of the three units is in operation, and in 2015–2016, the plant generated only 16.25 GWh of electricity, much lower than its designed capacity. The plant is being rehabilitated under the Energy Access and Efficiency Improvement Project (EAEIP), with a loan from the Asian Development Bank. Facing technical and operational hurdles, the Surajpura

172  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla hydropower plant, designed to benefit Nepal, generates a much lower amount of electricity than envisaged during the design. See NEA (2015) and NEA (2016). The plant is completely shut down twice a year when the WGC is closed for maintenance. 8 When the project was being built, a Hulaki Sadak (postal road) connected the project area with Bhairahawa and Kapilvastu. This still exists and is being upgraded with support from the GoI. In 2015, a 24-km highway that connects Sunauli, south of Bhairahawa, with the East-West Highway near Bardaghat and that passed through the end of the command area served by the GIP was built. This new highway is a major development project to be implemented in the area served by the NWGC after the GIPP was completed. While opening the road has reduced travel time between Bhairahawa and Bardaghat, its contribution to the economic well-being of the Nawalparasi remains unassessed. 9 van Koppen et al. (2001). 10 The Nawalparasi District before promulgation of the 2015 Constitution had four different ecosystems: Mountain, Siwalik, Valley and the Tarai. The west in now called Nawlaparasi. This study uses the data prior to the promulgation of the constitution, but the trend would be similar to the one presented in this chapter. 11 NWGC has a major design limitation. The head regulator of the NWGC is 11 ft higher than that of the WGC. Thus, water from the river can enter NWGC only when the level upstream of the barrage reaches this threshold. Even when water flows into the canals, only the main canal receives it; due to poor maintenance, the distributaries and tertiary canals remain without water. 12 See IOE/TU (2003). 13 See Prasad et al. (2000). 14 See MoAD (2013). 15 See NCVST (2009). 16 Mishra (undated). The Nepali media covered news of this breach belatedly. The breach had occurred on 23 July 2002 but was reported only on 9 August 2002. The report said that a flood of 629,9000 cusec (17,828.8 m3/s) breached 150 ft of the afflux bund along the Gandak River. The resulting flood affected thousands of families. Because the budget was not released on time, repairs have been affected. See Gorkhapatra (2002). 17 In August 2008, the Koshi embankment at Kushaha, Sunsari District, Nepal, was breached, causing a major flood disaster. See Dixit (2009). 18 The farmers organised one such protest on 23 May 2008. For a discussion of the protest, see Shrestha and Silwal (2017). 19 The thirteen villages were Jamunia, Paklihawa, Kudia, Bhujahawa, Thulo Khairatawa, Guthi Surajpura, Bedauli, Guthi Parsauni, Narsahi, Tribeni, Susta, Rupaulia, Pratappur and Somani. 20 Mishra (undated) and Mishra (2011). 21 The boundaries of VDCs have been reconfigured and designated rural and urban municipalities. For detail discussions, see Dixit and Shukla (2017). 22 See Singh et al. (2001). 23 It is the only formal institutional mechanism to review flood problems between Nepal and India. For action, it makes recommendations to higher levels. This committee, however, proposes mostly embankments and structural solutions, even though they have consistently failed to mitigate flood risks. An examination of the committee’s history would provide insights into the imagination of flood risk mitigation within formal institutional instruments. 24 See Sharma (2008). 25 Most shallow tube wells are 30 to 60 ft deep with a PVC casing pipe, 4 inch in diameter and slotted mild steel screen and well plug. Local artisans drill and install shallow tube wells at a cost of NRs. 60,000 to 100,000. A 5 to 8 HP diesel

Benefits and burden  173 or electric pump (which costs additional NRs. 60,000–80,000, depending on the model), that pumps water at an average of about 12 l/s, is often used. Low-cost Chinese-made pumps have increased affordability even to smallholder farmers. See ADB (2012). 26 Theoretically, this should provide opportunity to smallholders to achieve better management and crop husbandry. But access and affordability to inputs and production technology also matters, and smallholders face disadvantage because their capacity to invest in input and crop production technology (e.g. high-­ yielding crop varieties, quality seed, irrigation, agricultural machines) is limited. They also face constraint in market. Because the volume of production is small, they lack capacity to negotiate for price in the market. In a study of shallow groundwater use in adjoining Rupandehi District, Urfels et al. (2020) argue that ‘a single overall strategy to support farmers in responding effectively to monsoon breaks is therefore unlikely to suffice, because sustainable irrigation development needs to cater to contextual factors that vary geographically and even between households within the same community.’ The context in NWGC command area is likely to be similar. 27 See Prasai (2013) for discussions. 28 Dixit (2002) discusses the intersection of sources and ecosystem, infrastructures, human organisations as well as aspects of rules, procedures, rights and obligations in use and management of water. 29 For a discussion about various stakeholders, see Kakakhel (2018). 30 Langton and Prasai (2006) highlight the role information can play for policy compliance in transboundary water management. Discussions on the fundamental role of information on water management are also found in Moench et al. (1999). For a discussion on limitations of the conventional water management paradigm, see Mollinga (2004).

References ADB. 2012. Shallow Tubewell Irrigation in Nepal: Impacts of Community Groundwater Irrigation Sector Project. Manila: Asian Development Bank. Bajracharya, S. R., Maharjan, S. B., Shrestha, F., Bajracharya, O. R., & Baidya, S. 2014. Glacier Status: Nepal and Decadal Change from 1980 to 2010 Based on Landsat Data. Kathmandu: International Center for Integrated Mountain Development. CBS. 2003. Districts of Nepal: Indicators of Development. Kathmandu: Central Bureau of Statistics. CBS. 2015. Statistical Year Book of Nepal. Kathmandu: Central Bureau of Statistics. Dixit, A. 2002. Basic Water Science. Kathmandu:Nepal Water Conservation Foundation. Dixit, A. 2009. ‘Koshi Embankment breach in Nepal: need for a paradigm shift in responding to floods,’ Economic and Political Weekly, 44(6): 70–78. Dixit, A., & Moench, M. 2006. ‘Hydrologic variability and uncertainty implications for local management in Nepal’. Water Nepal, 12(1/2): 227–260. Dixit A., & Moench, M., eds. 2010. Adaptation and Livelihood Resilience: Implementation Pilots and Research in Regions Vulnerable to extreme Climatic Variability and Change. Kathmandu: Institute for Social and Environmental Transition–Nepal. Dixit, A., & Shukla, A. 2017. Benefits and Burden: A Case Study of Gandak River Agreement. Kathmandu: Institute for Social and Environmental Transition-Nepal and ActionAid Nepal.

174  Ajaya Dixit and Ashutosh Shukla IOE/TU. 2003. Evaluation of Impact of Investment in Irrigation Management Transfer Project. Pulchowk, Lalitpur: Tribhuvan University, Institute of Engineering College. National Planning Commission, Nepal. Kakakhel, S. 2018. ‘Agreements and institutions related to shared rivers within South Asia and beyond’. In: South Asian Rivers A Framework for Cooperation, ed. Imtiaz, A. (pp. 45–67). Bangladesh Environmental Lawyers Association, Dhaka and Dhaka University: Springer. Langton, N., & Prasai, S. 2006. Will Conflicts Over Water Scarcity Shape South Asia’s Future? 2 (1): Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS), https://csis-­ website-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/s3fs-public/legacy_files/files/­publication/120323_ WadhwaniChair_IssuePerspective.pdf, accessed 14 July 2020. Mishra, D. K. 2011. ‘People versus the Environment’. In: Himal South Asia, ed. Dixit, K. M.. Kathmandu: Himal Association. Mishra, D. K. (Undated). Embankments Related Compensation to Drain Indian Exchequers: Need to Review the Flood Control Policy of the Government. www. indiawaterportal.org/articles/embankments-related-compensation-drain-­indianexchequer-need-review-flood-control-policywww.indiawaterportal.org, accessed 14 July 2020. MoAD 2013. Statistical Information on Nepalese Agriculture 2012/2013. Kathmandu: Government of Nepal, Ministry of Agricultural Development. Moench, M., Caspari, E., & Dixit, A., eds. 1999. Rethinking the Mosaic Investigations into Local Water Management. Boulder Colorado and Kathmandu: Institute for Social and Environmental Transition (ISET)–International, Water Conservation Foundation and Institute for Social and Environmental Transition–Nepal. Mollinga, P. 2004. ‘Sleeping with the enemy: dichotomies and polarization in Indian policy debates on the environmental and social effects on irrigation’. Water Nepal, 11(12): 73–101. NCVST. 2009. Vulnerability Through the Eyes of the Vulnerable: Climate Change Induced Uncertainties and Nepal’s Development Predicaments. Kathmandu and Boulder: Institute for Social and Environmental Transition–Nepal and Institute for Social and Environmental Transition-International for Nepal Climate Vulnerability Study Team (NCVST). NEA. 2015. Annual Report of Nepal Electricity Authority – 2015. Kathmandu: Nepal Electricity Authority, www.nea.org.np/annaul-report.html, accessed 14 July 2020. NEA. 2016. Annual Report of Nepal Electricity Authority – 2016. Kathmandu: Nepal Electricity Authority, www.nea.org.np/annaul-report.html, accessed 14 July 2020. Prasad, G. 1997. History of Irrigation in Bihar (ancient, British and up to pre-plan period). Patna: Water and Land Management Institute. Prasad, K. C., Molden, D. J., & Thoreson, B. P. 2000. ‘Tracing the History of the Development and Management of Two Irrigation Systems in the Tarai of Nepal’. In: Irrigation and Drainage in the New Millennium. Sri Lanka: International Water Management Institute (IWMI). Prasai, S. 2013. ‘Beyond South Asian geopolitics: The everyday forms of state ineffectiveness in water cooperation’. The Asian Journal, Journal of Transport and Infrastructure, 17(1): 41–54. Rowland, M. 2005. ‘A framework for resolving the transboundary water allocation conflict conundrum’. Ground Water, 43(5): 700–705.

Benefits and burden  175 Sharma, K. R. 2008. ‘The critical role of irrigation water’. Hydro Nepal, 3(July): 1–3. Shrestha, A., & Silwal, S. 2017. Water Commons and Transboundary Rivers. Kathmandu: Institute for Social and Environmental Transition-Nepal and Action Aid Nepal. Urfels, A., McDonald, A. J., Timothy, J. Krupnik, T. J., & van Oel, P. R. 2020. ‘Drivers of groundwater utilization in water-limited rice production systems in Nepal’. Water International, 45(1): 39–59. van Koppen, B., van Etten, J., Bajracharya, P., & Tuladhar, A. 2001. Women Irrigators and Leaders in West Gandak Scheme, Nepal. Working Paper No. 15, Sri Lanka: IWMI.

Part II

Regional and local conflicts

8 Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows Competition, conflicts and cooperation Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain

This chapter takes as its focus the wide diversity of institutional responses that arise in response to the changing flows and appropriation of water between rural and urban areas. In recent years, there has been growing interest in the subject of conflicts over water in India (Joy and Paranjape 2007; Cullet et al. 2012; Joy et al. 2020). The global literature on water conflicts has tended to be dominated by a discussion of such conflicts at the regional, state or national levels (Starr 1991; Wolf 1999). Relatively little attention has been focused on the responses to greater competition over water at the micro level, where water users have a day-to-day interface with the resource. This chapter seeks to contribute to the discourse on water conflicts by challenging the simplistic narratives about the relationship between water scarcity and conflicts (Homer-Dixon 1991; Howard and Homer-Dixon 1995). Within the larger discourse on conflicts over water, the chapter emphasises the value of a peri-urban conceptual lens, highlighting that the peri-urban provides fertile ground to study the divergent responses to growing competition over water, which could be generalisable both across scales and contexts. There are two implicit assumptions that inform narratives linking water scarcity with conflicts: first, that water is physically scarce; and second, that this physical scarcity necessarily translates into conflicts over water. In general, such narratives tend to see water scarcity as a purely physical phenomenon, in which limited supplies of the resource are posited against an increasing demand. There is little attention to the institutions and entitlements that shape access to the resource, or to the social and political relationships that shape its reallocation. The process of water (re)allocation is seen as an apolitical process. Second, these narratives get implicitly tied to the occurrence of conflicts, extrapolated to a level of ‘water wars’. There is an assumption that growing competition over water will necessarily translate into conflicts. This precludes attention to the wide diversity of responses that may arise in response to the scarcity of water; scarcity can be a trigger for cooperation or new institutional forms around water as much as a trigger for conflicts. These narratives assume a more specific form in a peri-urban context, where changing appropriation of water from rural to

180  Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain urban areas is seen as signalling its scarcity, with a potential to fuel rural– urban water conflicts. Drawing on research in two different agro-ecological and institutional contexts in India, namely the growing outsourcing, industrial and recreation hub of Gurugram in north-west India and the emerging hill station of Mukteshwar in the state of Uttarakhand in north India, this chapter challenges the basic framing of the relationship between water scarcity and conflicts. First, it draws attention to the reallocation of water and the emerging rural–urban water flows in the face of changing land use brought on by urbanisation. Second, it draws attention to the diversity of institutional responses that arise in this situation. It shows that this process of reallocation of water from rural to urban uses does create competition; however, whether this further translates into conflict or a conflict of interest depends on several causal conditions. Besides, rural–urban transformations are characterised by new forms of water flows that can be associated with cooperation. The chapter makes a case for analysing water conflicts only after embedding such analysis in the routinisation of practices around water: the institutions – norms, practices and codes of conduct that structure the relationship of people with water – and cautions against narratives around water that implicitly tie conflicts with scarcity. Along the lines of Roe (1991), who makes a case for counternarratives, the chapter argues that alternative framings of the relationship between the availability of water, access to the resource and institutional arrangements around it are needed, challenging the conflict–cooperation dichotomy on the one hand and a linear relationship between water scarcity and conflicts on the other. Drawing on different conceptual lenses that are used to study water conflicts, this chapter highlights the role of the underlying technological and institutional contexts in influencing the possibilities of conflict, moving away from the linear and simple narrative of ‘scarcity induces conflicts’. The rest of the chapter is organised as follows. The second section provides conceptual groundwork for this chapter: it briefly engages with the concept of the peri-urban and reviews conceptual approaches to the analysis of conflicts around water. The premises of three different approaches are described: political ecology, socio-technical perspectives and perspectives of legal pluralism. The third section describes the context of this research. It describes the two sites where this research is located, namely Gurugram and Mukteshwar. The fourth section describes the methodology adopted for this research. The fifth presents the empirical analysis. It draws attention to the changing flows of water between the city and peri-urban spaces and the institutions that develop around them. These routinised practices, located in time and space, are associated with forms of conflict, cooperation and competition. The sixth section concludes the chapter with the main theoretical and policy-relevant messages.

Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows  181

Conceptual groundwork for this chapter ‘Peri-urban’ is a term with a rapidly evolving literature around it. Perhaps because it has multiple connotations (Gupta 2015), the significance of the term is seldom appreciated by policy makers and planners, whose approach to development is conventionally characterised by a rural–urban dichotomy. As a concept, peri-urban developed as a framing that would enable policy makers and planners to straddle the rural–urban divide and academics and researchers to study a grey zone (Yiftachel 2009a, 2009b) in transition between the rural and the urban. On account of the growing competition over scarce resources such as land and water, peri-urban spaces are fertile grounds to engage with debates on the subject of conflicts and cooperation. This is because of growing claimants on the limited resources, the great diversity of economic and social interests that characterise the peri-urban and the reallocation of resources characteristic of such spaces. The word ‘peri-urban’ can be conceptualised as a place bordering a city in terms of its physical location – an intermediary between the village and the city located at the city fringe, as a conceptual lens for studying the transition between the urban and rural, or as a rural–urban interface of activities and institutions (Narain and Singh 2017a; Gomes and Hermans 2017); Shrestha 2019; Singh and Narain 2020). It can be seen to represent an interface of the rural and the urban in various respects – cutting across locations, livelihoods, economic activities and institutions. It could be seen as a grey zone that defies any categorisation, rural or urban. It is a construct – a conceptual lens – that looks at urban–rural relationships and transformations. Located at the fringes of growing cities, peri-urban spaces, providing land and water for urban expansion, get gradually assimilated into the expanding boundary of the city. Since cities and their core areas exhaust their carrying capacity, peri-urban spaces serve as a spill-over of this expansion (Huang, Yeh and Chang 2010). They act as a source of supply to the demand of city’s utilities and infrastructure services. The assimilative capacity of a peri-urban space is thus at the disposal of the heavy requirement of modern and growing cities. As a space, peri-urban is in constant transition, resting on the fringes of the cities, between the rural and the urban; the population living here is in constant interaction with the rural and the urban worlds. It is socially divergent, comprising a heterogeneous mix of farmers, urban middle class and entrepreneurs. It is characterised by a two-way flow of goods and services between the rural and urban spheres (Narain 2017); the extent of participation among peri-urban communities in this flow, however, is not equitably distributed. The livelihoods draw on both urban and rural activities, with considerable variation among peri-urban populations in terms of their ability to do so.

182  Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain Institutionally, peri-urban spaces can be quite complex. Peri-urban issues may come under the purview of both urban and rural agencies – or of neither. Many times, formal rural governance structures may have ceased to exist without a formal urban governance structure having taken over. There exists a plurality of governance mechanisms on the ground, maintaining a complex relationship among themselves. These may encompass the role of private enterprise, market-based allocation of resources, as well as community-based institutions based on norms of reciprocity and cooperation. Nonetheless, social and power relationships are crucial in shaping access to resources and systems of control and authority. Thus, studying governance mechanisms in peri-urban spaces requires looking at actors beyond the state; often these actors fill in a void left by the absence of direct state involvement. The distinction between government and governance is often not recognised in discourses on the peri-urban (Singh and Narain 2020); the lack of government control in peri-urban spaces can often be equated with an absence of governance mechanisms.

Theoretical and conceptual approaches to the analysis of water conflicts A conflict could be defined as a situation of confrontation, which could be verbal or physical (Bavinck, Pellegrini and Mostert 2014). This needs to be distinguished from a conflict of interest. All conflicts of interest will not necessarily erupt into conflicts. There could be three important reasons for this. First, conflicts of interest could persist on account of unequal power relations wherein it is costly for the weaker parties or actors to engage into conflict. Thus, they choose for the conflict of interest to persist and maintain the status quo. Second, institutional mechanisms could succeed in reconciling conflicts of interest, once again preventing their escalation into conflicts. Third, local norms may prevent conflicts of interest from erupting into conflicts, forcing resource users into situations of forced cooperation (Narain and Singh 2017b; Vij et al. 2018). What we see as the causes of conflicts depends on what conceptual lens we are studying conflicts from. A study of these conceptual lenses suggests that understanding the underlying institutional and technological conditions of resource use is fundamental to understanding conflicts over water. Here we briefly review three conceptual lenses that structure our understanding of what causes conflicts over water to arise.

A political ecology perspective Political ecology is the study of the relationships between political, economic and social factors and environmental issues and alterations (Bryant and Bailey 1997; Crifasi 2002). The basic premise behind a political ecology perspective is that environmental change and issues are not apolitical; the approach politicises environmental issues. Ecological processes are

Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows  183 not isolated from social and political processes; power relations determine access to resources and shape its management. A political ecology approach works from a premise of an actor-­centred analysis (Bryant 1991), where actors’ motivations and interactions are understood to be key in shaping the use of resources (Crifasi 2002). When applied to an analysis of water allocation and appropriation, this approach draws attention to how water flows are shaped by the flows of power. A political ecology perspective makes more explicit the role of societal institutions in shaping the scarcity of water; that scarcity is a social construction more than a physical phenomenon (Shah and Narain 2019). More specifically, a political ecology perspective to analyse conflicts over resources looks at differential access to and control over resources as mediated by unequal power relations in society. Understanding the mechanisms for water resource allocation is therefore basic to understanding conflicts over the resource. When applied to the use and allocation of water in peri-urban contexts, such a perspective brings to the fore how the processes of urbanisation create a bias towards cities over villages, or in favour of urban uses over rural uses, channelling water resources from the latter to the formal. In times of scarcity, it is the powerful who are able to get water for their use by virtue of their financial and social power. For instance, in peri-urban areas, the large farmhouse owners are able to appropriate water via submersibles, which reduces the amount of water available to the small and marginal farmers in the region (Narain 2014). From an urban planning perspective, this is reflected in the state’s attempts to acquire rural resources to support urban expansion, pointing to an implicit bias in favour of modern cities (Shatkin 2017).

Socio-technical lens The socio-technical approach to water management involves a study of the relationship between institutions and technology in water management. There are three main premises: technology is socially constructed; technology has social requirements for use; and technology has social effects (Kloezen and Mollinga 1992). Here, the word ‘technical’ does not necessarily imply material technology, but rather refers to an artefact with an associated knowledge and belief system. Technology is not socially neutral; instead, it is socially constructed. In south India, farmers would often lift the canal gate in the absence of a person on duty; to stop such actions the authorities introduced locked gates (Mollinga 2003). Technology does not exist in a social vacuum and has social effects. It can be instrumental in shaping differential access to resources and creating situations of inequity. Deep submersibles, when used to extract groundwater, can have equity implications by placing the resource out of the reach of small and marginal farmers. Modern information and communication

184  Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain technologies likewise have important social effects on how water is accessed, governed and managed. From a perspective of water control and conflicts, water technologies are signposts of struggle, as gates and structures through which water is released are sources of control over water, and competing interests around them can give rise to conflicts (Mollinga et al. 1996). Since technologies – hydraulic structures, outlets and gated devices – are the sources of water release, control over their operation is instrumental in shaping how water is appropriated in practice. Water conflicts are thus essentially conflicts over such devices. These devices are important sites of water conflicts.

Perspectives of legal pluralism Legal pluralism is a concept that describes the relationship among different normative systems, practices and codes of conduct surrounding a particular activity or confronting an individual (von Benda-Beckmann 1989). It refers to a situation where multiple norms, practices, codes of conduct and institutions co-exist around the same set of activities, often with different and conflicting bases of legitimacy. A legal pluralistic perspective on water rights draws attention to the different bases of legitimacy through which water rights are defined. Water rights can be defined by state law but realised through normative systems outside state law. People rely on different sources of sanction to justify their actions by choosing among different bases of legitimacy. Some people may claim access to a water body based on religious sanction while others may claim it on the basis of statutory law. Different bases of legitimacy can give rise to conflicts over water. People also turn to different bases of authority to resolve conflicts. They refer to different forums for conflict resolution, with varying bases of legitimacy; the choice of forums is based on their perception of where the verdict is likely to be in their favour. This phenomenon is called forum shopping (von Benda-Beckmann 1981). In a peri-urban context, legal pluralism draws attention to the different normative repertoires that shape access to water and the relationship between them. Peri-urban water governance can be highly complex and regulated by institutions specific to the local context. While state law may lay the broad contours of resource access, a wide host of norms and practices influence water distribution in the field. Different sets of laws, institutions, norms and practices shape the allocation (and distribution) of water; legal pluralism is hence an important aspect of peri-urban water governance.

The research context: Gurugram and Mukteshwar This research is located in Gurugram and Mukteshwar. Both these settings are different from each other in terms of the agro-ecological and institutional contexts. However, they present certain similarities. First, each represents a peri-urban context as described above in terms of the co-existence

Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows  185 of rural and urban activities and institutions. Second, both these places have witnessed land use change, though the drivers of land use change are different. Third, associated with a change in land use are changes in water appropriation. Together these changes in land and water use are associated with a variety of institutional arrangements around water. Gurugram is a city in the north-west Indian state of Haryana. It is popularly called the ‘millennium city’. It has been on the global map since its emergence as a global outsourcing and information technology hub in the 1980s. Its transformation started in the 1980s when DLF, a private developer, acquired land to create a business, residential, recreation and outsourcing hub. Three factors were instrumental in the growth of the city: first, its location close to the national capital of New Delhi (about 30 km); second, the proximity to the Indira Gandhi International Airport (about 12 km); and third, the neoliberal policies adopted by the state government to draw private investment (Narain 2009). This was supported by efforts at infrastructure provisioning (Rajagopalan and Tabarrok 2014). In particular, the state government adopted policies for the creation of a special economic zone (SEZ). The manufacturing units of two automobile giants, Hero Honda and Maruti Suzuki, are located in Gurugram, as well as corporate offices of several Fortune 500 companies. These have been built by acquiring the agricultural lands of the villages at the periphery of the city, while settlement areas are still intact. The visual landscape of the city is therefore of a mixed patchwork of modern high-rises, shopping malls and gated settlements co-existing with village settlement areas that have provided lands for the creation of urban buildings and amenities (Goldstein 2016). An important feature of the growth of the city was the role of private enterprise (Goldstein 2016). The city developed at the behest of private developers. In fact, the city got its municipal corporation charter as late as 2008. In terms of governance, Gurugram city could be considered an ensemble of what Neil Brenner (1999) calls ‘re-territorialised’ spaces. This refers to residential colonies, business hubs, malls, recreational parks and other gated spaces. Each gated space is symbolic of its unique nature and essence; the governance of these spaces is centred on their specific needs. This has meant that the growth of Gurugram has taken place in a somewhat haphazard, uncoordinated manner. The growth has been way beyond its carrying capacity. In particular, there is tremendous stress on the city’s groundwater resources. The process of urbanisation and heterogeneous demand for water have depleted the groundwater of the city to the level of being ‘over exploited’ (Malik, Singh and Singh 2010). In terms of the administrative classification corresponding to the level of groundwater use, Gurugram has been declared a ‘Dark zone’, signifying the levels of over-­ exploitation to be critical. Public authorities have responded to this challenge through supply augmentation by building additional water treatment plants to meet the needs of the growing city.

186  Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain

Figure 8.1  Mukteshwar and position of three major towns and their peri-urban areas.

Mukteshwar is situated in the Kumaon Hills of the northern Indian state of Uttarakhand. Uttarakhand is one of the newer Indian states, carved out in 2000. It is an emerging hill station, located about 56 km from Kathgodam, the nearest railway station, and about 90 km from Pantnagar. Nainital and Almora are other famous hill resorts, located about 46 km and 52 km away, respectively (Figure 8.1). Mukteshwar is the name of a sacred Shiva temple. However, Mukteshwar is usually referred to as a cluster of small villages around the temple. Each village has about 100 households with a population of approximately 1,000. Administratively, each village has a panchayat – a village-level unit of local governance. Agriculture has been the main occupation and is predominantly rainfed. Wheat was historically a major crop. In recent years, however, there has been a change in the cropping pattern away from cereals and grains towards vegetables. More fundamentally, there has been major land use change, starting from the year 2000. This pattern of land use change has to do with the location and setting of Mukteshwar. This region is located in idyllic surroundings, with breathtaking views of the Himalayas; it is dotted with trees of pine, deodar, rhododendron and oak and spotted with fruit orchards. These features have made it an emerging tourist attraction, in contrast to the neighbouring – and seemingly overpopulated – hill stations of Nainital, Bhimtal, Almora and Ranikhet. Several people from Delhi and Mumbai have bought plots of land and built cottages to which they retire over the weekend. Many new resorts have also been built that cater to the holiday and recreation needs of the urban elite. These changes have had important implications for changing access to water sources in the region and have impacted the water security of the autochthones.

Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows  187

Research design and methodology In Gurugram, this research was conducted in two peri-urban villages, namely Budhera and Badsa (see Figure 8.2), along the three primary canals that serve Gurugram city and that were built to meet its growing demand for infrastructure. These are the Gurgaon Water Supply (GWS) Canal and the NCR (National Capital Region) Channel as the drinking water channels and the Badshahpur Nullah (wastewater runnel) transferring wastewater from the city. The first two were built to carry water to water treatment

Figure 8.2  Gurugram and its peri-urban areas selected for the study.

188  Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain plants to meet the needs of the growing city, while the third was built to carry the wastewater of the city. These canals cut through the peri-urban villages, i.e., the villages at the city’s periphery. The peri-urban communities were on the receiving end of these developments as they provided the agricultural land needed for their construction, while also losing access to water sources located on them, such as submersibles and tube wells. This study is based on qualitative data, following an interpretive approach and using a case study method (Yin 1984, 2003). Ethnography was the predominant mode of inquiry. Roughly over fifty semi-structured interviews were conducted (Marshall 1996). Most of the data was collected by participant observation, through direct engagement with the field and the subjects of the study. Participant observation is known to improve the quality of data collection (Dewalt et al. 1998). Water use practices – for instance, irrigation – were directly observed. Members of the project team spent time walking along the canals to observe the interface of the peri-urban communities with these sources of water as mediated by a wide diversity of technologies or artefacts – and institutions, norms, practice and codes of conduct (North 1990) that shape the use of water. Changing topography, mechanisms for the release of water, and the interface of irrigators and the Irrigation Department were directly observed, as were activities along field channels and watercourses for diverting water for irrigation. Semi-structured interviews and focus group discussions were conducted with village elders, headmen and households as means of triangulation. Key informant interviews and meetings with village elderly were used to provide a historical perspective. The gate operator of the wastewater canal was a key informant and provided much needed information on the interface of the irrigators with the wastewater canal, the dynamics of water release and conflicts between the expectations and requirements of the farmers and the operation of the wastewater canal. All the qualitative data was stored and coded using keywords and concepts; subsequent memos led to consolidation of the research results. In Mukteshwar, too, the methodology comprised a qualitative, ethnographic research design, comprising semi-structured interviews, group discussions, key informant interviews, participant observation and transect walks of the study area. Key informant interviews were an important component of the methodology. Such interviews were held with representatives of two local non-­ governmental organisations (NGOs), CHIRAG and TERI. These interviews were useful in understanding overall changes in the region concerning land use, the linkages of the area with adjoining towns and cities and the changing flows of goods, services and resources between them and Mukteshwar. Interviews with shopkeepers helped to understand the links between Mukteshwar and surrounding markets. Interviews with property dealers through covert means helped understand the dynamics of land purchase and acquisition. Group discussions were held with the residents of one of

Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows  189 the villages, Letey Bhunga, to understand the implications of land use and climate change for the cropping pattern (Narain and Prakash 2016), livestock-rearing practices and other aspects of social and economic life. A new claimant from Delhi, the owner of a coffee shop and resort, was interviewed to understand the outsiders’ perspective. The researchers conducted transect walks of the area to understand changes in terrain, topography, cropping pattern and the construction work underway. Agricultural fields were visited to understand cropping choices and practices. Springs and water sources were visited to understand their management and the institutional changes surrounding their use and access. For both locations, Mukteshwar and Gurugram, anecdotes and narratives were an important source of data and are used as evidence in this chapter.

Institutions surrounding wastewater use: insights from Gurugram As against the popular narrative of urbanisation creating competition for water between rural and urban areas with a potential for water conflicts, our research on wastewater irrigation in peri-urban Gurugram shows that urbanisation processes create new patterns of flows of water between urban and rural areas with a wide range of institutional possibilities of conflicts, conflicts of interest and co-operation emerging. Peri-urbanisation processes are characterised by new and changing flows of resources between rural and urban areas (Narain 2017). Crops irrigated through wastewater obtained from the city are sent to the city, while farmers consume crops irrigated by fresh water. Produce for self-consumption is grown using fresh water, while the produce irrigated by wastewater is sold to the city. This is an important aspect of rural–urban flows. The wastewater canal (as mentioned above) was designed primarily to carry the waste of the city; the coming in of the canal transformed the agricultural profile of the peri-urban areas that it traverses through (Narain and Singh 2017a). Because of the absence of an irrigation canal and the presence of growing salinity in the face of falling water tables, areas that are served by this canal have been able to start commercial cultivation of wheat and paddy. A farmer during field research said, ‘Nothing grew here in the past’; the area was primarily rain fed. In the absence of an irrigation canal serving the region, rising salinity amidst falling groundwater levels and a disappearance of the four-month monsoon period, wastewater continues to be the most important means of irrigation. When in the course of fieldwork a farmer was asked to explain the reason for using wastewater, he threw his hands up in the air and exclaimed, ‘What else should I do?’ It is not surprising that some peri-urban farmers describe their reliance on wastewater as ‘helplessness’. Another farmer in the course of fieldwork asked, while referring to the wastewater canal, ‘Hope you will not shut it down?’, presuming that the researchers were representatives from the state: this statement was symbolic of the growing reliance on, and insecurity attached to the use of, wastewater.

190  Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain Several narratives surround the use of wastewater. Farmers consider wastewater to be a good substitute for fertilisers, as it is rich in nutrients. They believe that the crop irrigated with wastewater is more resilient than the crop fed with fresh water (Narain and Singh 2017a). A common narrative in the field is ‘This water is glucose’, as it supports those crops that never grew in the region before, and farmers claim it to be giving a better yield, too. Another common perception is that the wastewater is fit for crops that grow above ground, not for any vegetable or crop that grows underground, as its causticity can burn the root of the crop. However, the use of wastewater as a source of irrigation is not considered sustainable; the soil is understood to lose its productivity over the long run due to the chemical content in the wastewater. While wastewater has grown in importance as a resource in the context of urbanisation and climate change, a wide variety of institutions have sprung up around its use. The most common are collective norms of cooperation that allow the use of wastewater to be shared by a large number of farmers, even further down below from the pipe outlet from which the wastewater is discharged. To be able to use the wastewater, a farmer has to seek permission from the Irrigation Department to install a pipe outlet at the base of the wastewater canal in consideration for a nominal annual payment. However, the wastewater is used by several farmers further down from the pipe outlet, based on norms of co-operation. Wastewater is shared on the basis of bhaibandi, meaning brotherhood. Based on these norms, wastewater is appropriated as far as a kilometre from the canal. Irrigators co-operate in collective cleaning of watercourses and in taking turns to irrigate. Further details of these strategies are described in Narain and Singh (2017a, 2017b). Though the use of the wastewater from the pipe outlet is sanctioned by the state, its actual distribution is shaped by normative systems outside the state’s purview, pointing to the existence of legal pluralism in (waste)water use (Mollinga et al. 2007). In one of the villages, Badsa, we observed collective coping responses to deal with the uncertainty in the availability of wastewater (Singh 2017; Singh and Narain 2019). There are times when there is no wastewater in the wastewater runnel but it is required for irrigation. This may be the case, for instance, when the wastewater canal is shut off for repairs and maintenance. As a response to cope with this uncertainty, farmers have pooled financial resources to dig a furrow to carry the wastewater from the canal and to store it in a village pond (locally called johad). This, in the farmers’ own language, allows the wastewater to be converted from a ‘flow’ to a ‘stock’. The wastewater is then pumped to the agricultural fields. These practices represent forms of cooperation around wastewater. Urbanisation processes raise questions about the politics of urban expansion (Roy 2009; Shatkin 2017). Dhanvapur is the village where the sewage treatment plant – to which city sewage is delivered and from which wastewater is discharged – is located. On one side of Dhanvapur, water is

Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows  191 spread over a large area; it has correspondingly formed a swamp and invites rich avifauna. Interestingly, the wastewater canal deviates from its usual track for a stretch of about 500 meters; it is covered on this stretch. This is because adjoining it are the BPTP residential villas and multi-storeyed buildings; as the residential stretch finishes, the canal is uncovered again. The Haryana Urban Development Authority (HUDA) is covering the canal until the point where they expect the city to develop in the coming years; earlier it was left open. As the city expands, the canal gets covered and serves as a drainage system. This means that farmers no longer will have access to wastewater that they had earlier (Narain and Singh 2017a). This comprises an important aspect of the peri-urban water insecurity in terms of the uncertainty attached to the sources of water supply. As against the situation of cooperation described above with regard to the use of wastewater, this represents a situation of a conflict of interest between the urban residents and the peri-urban communities. Divergence and barrier in the regular supply of wastewater aggravates the insecurity attached to water and gives rise to conflicts. The wastewater canal requires repair every 2–3 months, and during the period of repairs, the canal is closed for 10–12 days, as the problems are usually not routine maintenance work, but rather emergency repairs, about which farmers receive no advance warning. As a result, it leads to heated conflicts that take place at the gatework; at times the gate operator is physically assaulted, abused or thrown in the wastewater canal. This represents an outright conflict between the water users and the irrigation department, with both verbal and physical manifestations. As encapsulated in socio-technical perspectives on water conflicts, these conflicts take place at the headworks of the wastewater canal, around the gates for the release of wastewater.

Changing access to water sources in Mukteshwar Looking at resource appropriation patterns in Mukteshwar, the increasing population of outsiders in Mukteswar has led to the conception of institutions that facilitate smooth access to natural resources for the immigrants at the cost of the original settlers (Narain and Singh 2019). It is a reflection of unequal power relations between local inhabitants and migrants, pointing to a political ecology of resource (re)appropriation (Bryant 1991; Swyngedouw 1996). As noted earlier, we conceptualise political ecology as the study of the politicisation of environmental issues. A political ecology approach helps us to understand water appropriation in Mukteshwar as an outcome of unequal power relations between the local residents and the outsiders. It creates conflicts of interest between the two sides, but these do not necessarily erupt into new conflicts. Unequal power relations between the locals and the migrants have led to water resources being over-appropriated by the in-migrants, placing them out of the reach of the local populations, impacting the latter’s water

192  Aditya Kumar Singh and Vishal Narain insecurity. Large private cottages in the region symbolise the presence of the urban elite. As was heard in the course of fieldwork, ‘all the big houses here belong to the outsiders, while small ones are ours’. Traditionally in the region, springs were the main source of water. A catchment area of 2–3 hectares served each spring. These springs were accessed, managed and controlled by the local communities. The outsiders and new settlers who have bought lands in the region here prefer to buy plots of land with springs attached to them; in fact, the presence of a spring is a key condition affecting the choice of the land to be bought. With the land being sold, access to these springs is also lost. While the local inhabitants walk kilometres carrying heavy plastic jerry cans of water, the new powerful actors ‘bless themselves’ by buying plots of land endowed with springs. A spring provides a source of consistent water supply. In one of our interviews a café cum resort owner said, ‘There is shortage of water in the area but I am blessed with a spring on my land.’ CHIRAG, a local NGO in Mukteshwar, conducted hydro-geological surveys, identifying the catchment area and monitoring discharge of springs. This was followed up with efforts at soil and water conservation. When the sale of lands picked up, it affected the local soil and water conservation activities. Chirag gradually withdrew from its work on monitoring and recharging springs in Mukteshwar. Besides, the pumping of groundwater by hotels and resorts located upstream has reduced the discharge of water downstream to local communities. A telling example is the experience of Letey Bhunga’s residents. Despite the piped water supply, water reaches the village once in three to four days. Then, however, it reaches only the earlier part of the village where the modern kothis (private houses) built by outsiders are located. This part of the village is not only located at a higher terrain but is also near the water tanks. This causes them to over-appropriate the resource before it reaches the rest of the village. Growing competition for water amongst the new settlers (resort owners and private cottage owners) triggers another mechanism through which the political ecology of water manifests itself – the mechanism of bribe and (il) licit payments. The new settlers often bribe the lineman in charge of water delivery from the piped water networks (that are in turn based on springs) to release water to serve them. The lineman deliberately holds back the supply of water and waits to be bribed by the rich and powerful. This intertwining of social and financial power results in a loss of access to water for the local communities. This clearly represents a conflict of interest between the locals and the outsiders, though it does not necessarily erupt into a ­conflict – either verbal or physical.

Conclusion In this chapter, we have focused on patterns of land use change in two peri-urban settings in India located in different agro-ecological and

Peri-urbanisation and changing water flows  193 institutional contexts. In both these cases, changes in land use are associated with changes in patterns of water appropriation. Though there is an appropriation of water from the rural to urban areas, or from rural to urban purposes, it does not necessarily translate into situations of conflict. Through the cases presented in this chapter, we challenge the simplistic narratives on the relationship between urbanisation, water scarcity and conflict. In the case of Gurugram, urbanisation is associated with changing rural–urban flows of water. These give rise to a variety of institutional responses that range on a continuum from conflicts of interest to conflicts, but also represent forms of co-operation. In the case of Mukteshwar, a political ecology perspective helps us to understand that as water is re-appropriated from the autochthones to the new migrants and settlers, there are conflicts of interest, but these do not necessarily erupt into actual conflicts. Unequal power relations between the local residents and outsiders leads to a re-appropriation of land and water in favour of the latter. The three theoretical perspectives on water conflicts reviewed in this chapter – socio-­technical perspectives, legal pluralism and political ecology – point to the need for embedding analyses of re-appropriation of water in peri-urban spaces within the institutional and technological contexts in understanding the conditions of conflicts, conflicts of interest or co-operation around water, deviating from simplistic narratives of the relationship between urbanisation, peri-urban water security and water conflicts. Future research should unravel the institutional complexities and challenges in resource allocation and management in new urban conditions that manifest diversity and heterogeneity. Rather than posit simplistic linear narratives about the relationship between water scarcity and conflict in the wake of urbanisation, research should unravel the wide diversity of institutions that arise in the wake of rural–urban transformations and document the mechanisms through which the reallocation of land and water resources takes place in such contexts.

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9 Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender A study of floods in South Asia Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa

The geography of South Asia is a hotbed of multiple recurrent disasters, of which floods are one of the most common adversities. Monsoon brings with it many hazards, and land inundation has emerged as a shared experience of ‘sorrow and battle’ for all people across borders. Consequentially it impacts everyone, but universalisation concerning the impact of disasters and accentuation of vulnerabilities need to be made with caution. There are lines of distinctions and differences in the ways human beings are impacted by disasters. Those embedded in structures of historical backwardness are impacted more than others as the risks, sufferings and vulnerabilities caused by disaster are superimposed upon the prevailing and existing conditions of marginalisation. These include the poor, women, elderly, non-human species and the physically different. As a result, their responses to and engagements with disasters vary. Disasters impact women differently, and their responses to disasters are distinct as well. The manner in which understanding of disasters is invoked suffers from gender blindness, as it is woven around universalisation and essentialisation about similitude of experiences. This necessitates the urgency for a shift not only towards a gendered understanding of hydrological hazards and waterborne disasters but also beyond the given discourse of disaster risk reduction. There is also the need to understand the underlying conflicts caused by disasters and the way it impacts women. Over some time, with growing feminist consciousness, a lot has been written about the concern of locating the politics of difference in situations of conflict, drawing attention to the concern of human security from the gendered lens in situations of wars, ethnic crises, communal tensions and conflicts.1 This necessitates the emulation of similar gendered perspective while understanding disasters as situations of conflicts. There is a need to probe deeper into the specific risks and tensions that women suffer from, arising from the conflicting nature of disasters. Disasters need to be understood as ‘conflict situations’, as they are similar to the conditions and circumstances that emanate from any other kind of conflict. There is the scramble for limited resources, displacement, dislocation and accentuation of vulnerabilities which are the results of these situations. Most importantly, there is the

198  Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa breakdown of normalcy and societal and legal processes, which becomes common between disasters and conflicts. In this context, some of the questions that this chapter is interested to respond to are as follows: How do water-based disasters (hydrological disasters and floods) lead to the amplification of gendered vulnerabilities? Is the present discourse on the same gender-neutral and blind? Why is the gender-based approach to understanding water conflicts and vulnerabilities necessary? Do these conflicts map the lives of men and women differently, and if so, what is the possible implication for policy paradigms? To address the questions as raised above, this chapter has been structured in four sections. The first section attempts to locate differential gendered implications and consequences of disasters over the four phases of the cycle of disaster risk reduction. It brings out clearly that in each phase of a disaster, women are more vulnerable than the others because of being less prepared and trained. The second section interrogates some concerns that require immediate attention concerning the lives of women. The third section engages with various historical commitments made by the international and national communities in response to disasters, and the fourth section concludes with a discussion of nature and scope of transformative intervention. Before we attempt to discuss these questions, it is important to define vulnerabilities. The definition of vulnerability in this chapter has been adapted from Ben Wisner, who refers to the ‘characteristics of a person or group and their situation in influencing their capacity to anticipate, cope with, resist and recover from the impact of a natural hazard’ (Wisner et al. 2004, pp. 4, 11). There is inequality in access towards opportunity as a result of differential exposure to risks whose foundations lay in socio-economic structures (­Wisner 2000). Hence, vulnerability has to be invoked with the understanding of exposure to the risks and existing coping capacities (Enarson and Morrow 1998). It can be pointed out that in the course of study of various disasters in South Asia, from earthquakes, landslides to floods, cyclones, drought and tsunami, it has been found that ‘gendered disaster vulnerability’ indeed exists.

Understanding the cycle of disasters and its differential gendered consequences Disasters affect men and women, and boys and girls, differently. In many contexts, the existing structural and built-in gender inequalities accentuate vulnerabilities caused by disasters (Enarson 1998). Due to existing socio-economic conditions, cultural beliefs and traditional practices, women are more likely to be disproportionately affected by disasters. These

Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender  199 Early Warning Phase

Search and Rescue

Relief

Rehabilitation and Reconstruction

Figure 9.1  Four phases of a disaster.

conditions impact the decision-making capacity of women and girls, who hardly are in a position to make the same regarding their lives, in particular their access to resources (Enarson 2000). Consequentially there is increased loss of livelihoods, gender-based violence and even loss of life during and in the aftermath of disasters. Hence, the empowerment of women is critical in building resilience to disaster and reduction of disaster risks. This section argues that the differential impact on the lives of women and on their ability to negotiate comes out clearly with each phase of cyclical disasters. This exercise also draws attention to the difference of experiences when the phases of a disaster management cycle are broken down. The four phases of this cycle (Figure 9.1) are as described below. Early warning phase India and the whole of South Asia are more vulnerable to hydrological disasters due to the unique topography and proximity to the sea. The hydrological disasters like floods, tsunami and cyclone provide some period of early warning before hitting. This makes evacuation from the exposed site possible. However, women face different challenges in comparison to their male counterparts. The challenge of illiteracy and lack of life skills amongst women is a major point of concern. Early warning messages sent out by various agencies are mostly disseminated through SMS on the mobile phone. In many situations, women do not possess mobile phones, and in certain contexts, many women can't read the SMS, so it becomes difficult for them to receive information. This leads to women being more disadvantageous than men due to the inability to read the early warning messages. For example, during Cyclone Aila2 in Sunderbans, West Bengal, India in 2009, it was observed that the government was using SMS service to warn the public about the cyclone as well as floods. However, the majority of women either did not possess a mobile phone or were unable to read the SMS. This has created an obstacle in their timely evacuation to safety. Also, in many situations, when asked to evacuate their home and move to a rescue shelter, women are reluctant to make a decision on their own if the man of the house is not present. For instance, when the early warning was issued for Cyclone Ockhi in 2017 in Gujarat, the coastal communities of fishermen were actually out at sea while the women stayed at home. Many of these women were reluctant to move to safer shelters for the fear of not

200  Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa finding their way back home or not being able to meet their husbands when the latter returned from the sea. Search and rescue This second phase is more challenging for women than the others, which exacerbates the differential impact of natural disasters on women. First, as the search and rescue forces are always all men, be it from the National Disaster Relief Fund, state police rescue forces or the army, there are serious trust issues that surface, which make women reluctant to go with them. Second, few women possess life skills helpful to survive in a natural disaster, e.g. the ability to swim, which becomes a barrier to their safety. During floods in the Amreli District in Gujarat in 2015, the State Disaster Response Force personnel stated that women were mostly trapped after the floods, as they could not swim even shorter distances to safety. OXFAM’s 2005 study on tsunami in Sri Lanka explained that women were taken by the waters due to their inability to swim or climb trees, as they were never trained like the boys were. Another such incapacitating instance was observed during the Kerala floods in 2018, when women could not move to safety despite owning a boat because they didn’t know how to row one. They had no choice except to climb up to the roofs and wait for either external help or their husband to come and row them to safety. Another important issue is concerning the traditional clothing of women which makes it difficult for girls and women to navigate the floodwaters.3 Especially in the context of South Asia, where women wear either sarees or salwar kameez, it was found that both these types of clothing were difficult to swim in. Since the choice of clothing is a cultural inscription, it becomes important to take these considerations into account while undertaking rescue operations. Although women are making their presence felt in defence forces of the country, they are absent from the field of ‘response’ to disasters specifically in the search and rescue phase. It may be worthwhile to consider raising an all-women battalion in this field. The local-level search and rescue parties should include women officers in the operations. Relief During relief operations, women face the brunt of disaster more than men. The traditional role of cooking and providing food to the family continues even at relief centres. They queue up at relief agencies to get the required ration for the family and mostly cook often with bare-minimum resources. Just like in situations of droughts, collecting water from afar is also women’s responsibility. The unwillingness of men to share a variety of domestic roles adds to the levels of stress women experience in the aftermath of a natural disaster.

Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender  201 Some of the primary concerns in situations of relief are related to health and hygiene along with safety and security. The lack of privacy and gender-segregated spaces in relief camps puts additional stress on women in taking care of their health and hygiene, which in turn often leads to reproductive health problems. To avoid the embarrassment of using the unhygienic and shared toilet space, women often resorted to unhealthy practices, e.g. consuming less food and water, which may lead to long-term health issues. It is often reported that a build-up of anxiety and stress creates a large number of reproductive health-related concerns amongst women, including more painful labour, premature births, miscarriage, and increased postpartum risks for both the mother and the newborn. In terms of security, relief shelters are often plagued by concerns when it comes to women’s physical safety, including being surrounded by strangers and the lack of law enforcement. There have been recorded instances in which rescue operators were involved in cases of rape and sexual harassment.4 Even when evacuated with their entire family intact, however, women generally carry far greater emotional and physical burden in dealing with the consequences of a natural disaster. Instance of emotional or physical abuse coming from husbands or other male relatives are widespread, with the menfolk often taking out their own insecurities and frustrations, at times fuelled by alcohol use, on women. Furthermore, a long-standing misconception that women have better coping mechanisms than men do to deal with stress causes the former’s mental health to be neglected by healthcare professionals and government officials. Another concern related to life skills is that a woman who loses a husband or male relative responsible for her rarely if ever has the legal and financial knowledge, as well as the communication skills, to obtain governmental help and benefits due to her. In many cases it was found out that women didn’t have even the most basic knowledge like their own full name, date of birth, or residential address. Rehabilitation and reconstruction Disasters lead to shortages of resources and disrupt the social order. The increase in the competition amongst individuals for access to resources becomes fiercer, which creates new forms of gender-based discrimination. In terms of post-disaster livelihood reconstruction, the unique capabilities and requirements of women are often overlooked; instead, there is more focus on the creation of livelihoods for men. Faced with their own financial illiteracy and lack of access to important identity documents, women are hard-pressed to benefit from the relief aid and money. Post-disaster needs assessment is very crucial to estimate the loss and to plan further relief and recovery. Women are unrepresented and absent from this exercise. Thus, gender concerns get little space in the final report

202  Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa presented to the government. The allocation of resources based on such reports further marginalises the cause of gender parity.

Concerns facing women In the studies conducted by the United Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction (UNDDR) on Disasters in South Asia, OXFAM in the context of Tsunami in South and South East Asia in 20045 and the UN’s State of Population Report 2009,6 a recurrent theme had been the identification and linking of multiple and layered vulnerabilities that women suffer from. Some of them are described here. Gendered labour demands: Some of the economic concerns of gendered labour includes loss of livelihood, picking up lesser-paying jobs, shunting women from the workforce and, most difficult, the transition into sectors that were largely in the folds of the unorganised sector of labour. One needs to probe deeper into the functioning of the unorganised sector and see how it thrives on the labour of women. This informal sector of many of the South Asian economies thrives on maintaining graded gender inequalities whether as domestic help in urban centres and cities or as cheap labour in factories. Demand for labour is highly gendered, largely in low-skilled niche jobs like domestic work, health, childcare, textile and garment industries. The jobs within the informal sector deny safety that the social security nets would otherwise provide. It increases the feminisation of poverty and labour. Many scholars argue that this is a good phenomenon, as it provides the unskilled individuals with work, but then the big question is whether these jobs give women equal access to work and dignity or do these shunts them to lesser-paying, dead-end work. One has to consider that many of these women were farmers and owners of their estates. They were in control of their subsistence and their vocation before disaster struck. ILO’s study has been useful in elucidating that most of the South Asian and South-East Asian women are engaged in agriculture and allied activities, as owners and equal workers. The occurrence of any kind of disaster offsets their social and financial station. Disaster-induced migration forces them to new, unknown terrains which include lesser-­paying jobs. These jobs take away their decision-making capacities. A study undertaken by the UN High Commissioner for Refugees in 2015 documented the rise in irregular migrants from Bangladesh, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Nepal into west Asia nations such as Qatar, Bahrain, Oman, Libya, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and United Arab Emirates. These migrants are predominantly women working as housemaids and other domestic help. Migration: Migrations caused by disasters accentuate vulnerabilities and tend to marginalise the most vulnerable like women, children, elders and differently abled. These migrations are sudden, rushed, non-volitional movements of population emanating from sudden changes in the external situations. These migrations are very distinct from the ones undertaken for reasons of economic well-being and growth, which in many situations are

Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender  203 volitional. These can be seen as controlled migrations (also known as transnational, regional and rural-to-urban flights), as the decision taken by the individual can be calculated and well decided. Both natural and humanmade disasters force people to move out. Climate change has also induced sudden as well as slow migrations, which are leading to situations of conflict and humanitarian issues. In the many reports and studies undertaken by UN organisations and NGOs, it was found out that these migrations are host to several other economic, social, physical and emotional problems. It was found that migrations were directly putting women at graver risks than men (UNFPA, 2009). Attempts to map dimensions of unsafe migration will show that there have been little deliberations in national and international policy frameworks on how to rectify the situation. Trafficking: Disaster-caused migrations have been considered unsafe and forced. The Global Report on Trafficking in Persons 2016 presented that 51 per cent of globally trafficked persons are women. Within South Asia, 88 per cent are trafficked domestically. They are sexually exploited, used as forced labour, as child soldiers, are forced into begging and are compelled into marriage and removal of organs for transplantation (UNHCR 2015). Disaster not only pushes them out of the legal and proper system but also lands them into the hands of unscrupulous agents. The UNFPA Report 2006 has indicated the proliferation of various agencies which are the key players in these crimes. The manpower agencies, often camouflaging behind identifiers such as recruiters, touts, dalals and travel agents, are extremely exploitative. Many rescued women who have deposed in front of officials say that there was always a dalal instrumental in trafficking. According to estimates 300,000 and 200,000 Bangladeshi children are in brothels in India and Pakistan. Each year some 4500 women and children are trafficked to Pakistan through India. A great majority of trafficked women and girls have ended up as prostitutes in Calcutta, Mumbai and other urban centres. (Ramachandran 2005, p. 7) Shakti Samhua, a Nepali organisation working with rescued girls, has brought attention to the linkages between natural disasters and the surge in numbers of kidnapping and trafficking. Sexual and human rights violations: Women and young girls are forced into prostitution or sold into brothels. ‘Both in gradual and sudden migrations, in displacement scenarios, preexisting patterns of discrimination and abuse are often aggravated’ (UNFPA, 2009, p. 35). There is an aggravation of sexual violence. One of the results of disasters is the breakdown of law and order, which is manifested in human-made political and ethnic disasters. Women suffer the worst in situations of ethnic strife, genocides and wars. This brings us to question: How safe are the routes of migration? In some of the studies undertaken on the makeshift camps, it has been found

204  Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa that women suffer from a large number of insecurities, and many have complained of harassment at the hands of officials as well as men living in the camps. Women purposefully waiting until night-time to relieve themselves in order to avoid being seen in daylight has been one of the common problems that have been discussed within the circles of those working on disaster risk reduction. The concerns of health and hygiene, especially those of pregnant women, have been documented as well. ‘Sold’, bought and paid wives: The constitution of each of the South Asian countries affirms the right to life. Article 21 of the Indian Constitution affirms the ‘Right to live life with Dignity’. Dignified life is based on one’s freedom and choice; however, neither one exists for the women who are sold. ‘An absorbing study on Bangladeshi women who are ‘sold’ as wives to widowed villagers along railway routes in UP, Rajasthan, Punjab and Haryana’ (Blanchet 2003). In these states, especially Haryana, as a result of a skewed sex ratio, women are sold by the dalals. In many cases, women are forcibly converted (Bangladeshi women) and incorporated into rural households. It was found that many of the purchased women/wives were not allowed to maintain any social contacts with their families in rural India or Nepal/ Bangladesh, and in most situations were unaware they had been sold. They do suffer from fear of ostracism. Many migrant/trafficked women assume cultural markers which are not their own (assume Hindu religious markers) to evade deportation and detection. The easier option for them is to cut off ties and ‘become Indian’, especially in the context of political movements against the illegal migrants in India.7 Therefore, a large number of women from Bangladesh employed as domestic help prefer to have Hindu names and claim that they hail from West Bengal in Delhi and NCR. Accentuation of prevailing socio-economic inequalities: The argument that disasters affect women more can easily be understood from the mortality data found in report and statistics on a large number of disasters, be they the cyclones in Bangladesh or earthquakes and floods in Nepal, India, Pakistan, etc. This might appear as a stretched generalisation, but it has been found that because of the traditional societal roles and division of labour, which position women as the primary caregiver tied to the home, they were mostly at home during the time of a disaster. The fact that women in Bangladesh, Nepal and India did not leave their ‘baris’ and homes is part of the same consciousness that patriarchy evokes relegating them to the house, claiming that the inner/private is the realm of the women. Stepping out alone is considered as wrong and incorrect. Eric Neumayer and Plümper (2007)8 have argued that the mortality caused by disasters could have a gendered mapping. Their studies found that the mortality rates amongst women were higher than those of men. The fact that women are raised weaker and malnourished in the context of South Asian patriarchal setup can easily explain why the numbers of mortalities amongst women are higher than men. The socio-economic conditions were a crucial point of investigation to decode the reasons for mortality.

Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender  205 The biological and physiological differences between men and women at times disadvantage women in their reaction to the disaster. However, social norms and role behaviour are of a bigger concern, as women and girls are always trained to give primacy to men of their families, which reduces their response efficiency in case of a disaster. Institutional and departmental confusions: All these challenges show that the focus of the government during a disaster does not fully capture these unique gendered needs. One example is the emergency meetings of the government when all crucial departments are called to aggregate and channelise the resources in the direction of emergencies. Many times, the women and child departments are not engaged and find themselves clueless regarding their role in such situations. The workload is entirely shifted to the Department of Disaster Management, which on many occasions fails to have women as part of the panel. Discussion of gender issues and their integration within policy designs are often presented as unnecessary and time-consuming obligations. In many of the disaster response and relief agencies, one witnesses absence of women-specific disaster response intervention strategies. The stakeholders involved are busy implementing schemes of their respective departments. Interdepartmental coordination within the government is significantly missing. If we go to the website of women and child departments, there is hardly any reference to their role or schemes during an emergency disaster situation. This certainly screams out the need for mainstreaming during a disaster gender-specific requirements and fix accountability.

Historical mapping of gender in institutional disaster frames The adoption of the Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action in 1995 in the Fourth World Conference of Women is considered as an important milestone in the history of women. It was for the first time that the mainstreaming of gender-concerning issues were addressed in the context of disasters and development as a whole. Chapter 24 of Agenda 219 emphasises women’s participation at national and international levels in the field of ecosystem management and environment. In almost all the international declarations and road maps, women are invoked as equal players and participants. However, one realises that this is far from reality. The truth is that more than twenty years since the Beijing Conference in 1995 we are still struggling to convert these words into real action in the field. Present discourse on disasters has witnessed a paradigm shift, with the focus being shifted from disaster management to gendered disaster risk reduction.10 In line with the Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction (SFDRR), the South Asian governments’ policies focus on reducing the existing disaster risk and preventing the creation of new risk. In this context, one must explore and define the term ‘risk’. As per United

206  Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction (UNDRR), risk means the potential loss of life or injury which could occur to a system, society or community in a given period and defined by a probability of culmination of hazard, exposure, vulnerability and capacity. Considering the hazard and exposure as constant, the risk would greatly differ across gender as a function of vulnerability and capacity. This means disasters impact differently both men and women. However, given the current plans and policies of disaster risk reduction, this concern seems to be only marginally addressed. The Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction (SFDRR) rightly recognises the need to have an all-inclusive approach to disaster risk reduction. The SFDRR highlights the gender perspective in all the policies and practices and promotes women participation and leadership in policy making and implementation. Further, the Sendai Framework emphasises the importance of women leadership in effectively managing disaster risk reduction strategies and integrating gender-sensitive policies, plans and programs at the local level. It also highlights the need to undertake capacity-building measures to empower women for preparedness and build skills to ensure adequate livelihood options in a post-disaster situation. India came out with the National Disaster Management Plan (NDMP)11 in 2016, imbued with the spirit of SFDRR. The national plan serves as a guide for state-level authorities to prepare the State Disaster Management Plans. The Disaster Management Act, 2005 requires that every district should also have their District Disaster Management Plans under the supervision of District Collector who is the head of District Disaster Management Authority. The National Disaster Management Plan (NDMP), 2016 prepared by National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA) emphasises empowering women in ‘capacity development initiatives’ and in incorporating gender-sensitive and equitable approaches in disaster planning. It specifically draws attention to providing women with special care during rehabilitation efforts. The NDMP highlights the roles and responsibilities at all levels of government from the centre to state and right up to panchayat and urban local body level. The NDMP also identifies major activities such as early warning, information dissemination, medical care, fuel, transportation, search and rescue, evacuation, etc. to serve as a checklist for agencies responding to a disaster. It also provides a general framework for recovery and offers flexibility to assess a situation and build back better. The prime minister’s ten-point agenda, which was presented during the Asian Ministerial Conference on Disaster Risk Reduction (AMCDRR), New Delhi, 2016, specifically states the requirement of inculcating the women in leadership roles in various aspects of disaster management. Despite these policies, road maps and plans at both international and national levels, one realises that there is an alarming non-fulfilment of gendered objectives. These agenda and plans miss out on laying a specific focus on inculcating women in the position of leadership during the various phases of a disaster like response, relief, recovery, rehabilitation, etc.

Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender  207 Without the participation of women at every stage of planning of disaster risk reduction strategies, the inclusion of the term ‘gender’ would only remain a lip service to the cause of true empowerment of women in a disaster and post-disaster situation. The attempt should be to integrate women and gender concerns at all levels of policy formulation (UNISDR 2011). Some of the suggestions that have been mooted by women across diverse societies are taken up in the next section.

Aspects of transformative intervention for integrating the quests of gender Using the skilled women force: Does the department, which distributes relief in a post-disaster situation, involve the women and child department? The answer is no. Who is accountable for the serious lapse in integrating an existing skilled woman force in such pursuits? Almost all South Asian countries have a dedicated line of auxiliary workers for health care. For example, India has Aanganwadi and ASHAs workers. If trained in Disaster Response, this workforce could provide excellent service on the ground along with other rescue workers because they are fully informed of the health, social or emotional needs of women and children in their designated areas of work. Besides, they are conversant with the statistics of their area of work. The concern that needs to be raised in this context is whether it is tenable to bring external/separate agencies in the presence of pre-existing skilled force, well equipped with data and information in the form of auxiliary health workers. This line of front workers, also trained for disaster situations, could be helpful in situations where time is a big factor and the delay in procuring external help could lead to inefficiency, timely help and lapse. The need for real participation: Due to the pressure from donors and aid agencies on the inclusion of gender concerns, the local agencies try to increase the women participation to show the numbers in the reports. However, on-field, actual participation and decision-making do not include women members. While the aid agencies try to ensure women participation at the local level, their staffing pattern remains highly gender skewed. Similarly, when NGOs conduct village-level meeting with women members, they seldom ensure the representation of women staff from NGO’s side to play the facilitating role. Hesitation amongst women in talking to relief workers about their plight is another hindrance in getting their participation in the true sense. While some NGOs try to get women involved as leaders in participatory method after a disaster, most of the time their participation is nominal with actual decisions being made solely by their husbands/caretakers. There is need to have actual participation of women at all levels of disaster risk management, from preparedness to capacity building, as well as from response to recovery. This is different from having nominal women representation on boards making decisions without actually having their opinions taken seriously. The shift is required from a male-centric perspective to

208  Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa listening to what women want, and not only in terms of their physical needs but also in terms of gendering the perspective (Jha 2019). Women are repositories of experiences and grassroots knowledge, and their participation is to be ensured at every stage of decision-making and its implementation. Need for sex-segregated data: The unavailability of sex-disaggregated data in the society poses a limitation of a huge kind in the assessment of capability and needs of the society. The cultural backwardness of women in pre-disaster set-up also poses a limitation for organisations wishing to include women in the planning of relief and recovery work. Since disaster is not an everyday scenario, unfortunately, it does not get as much attention as other concerns like malnourishment or pregnancy deaths get. In areas where there are existing struggles for adequate infrastructural support to meet basic health and safety needs of women, the emergencies are often taken a back seat to other issues, to be taken care of as and when the need arises. This negligence often leads to more deaths during a disaster. In disaster response, time is the golden asset. Having a prepared database of the exact location of women who may be in a vulnerable situation can prevent the additional loss of lives. Even if the aid relief organisation wishes to work for concerns of women, they find themselves in a difficult position to provide it in the absence of data. Therefore, the need is to have sex-segregated data. Role of media: The media agencies need to play a more responsible role in dealing with coverage of issues related to disasters. It is notorious in portraying women as helpless and weak victims, unable to fend for themselves and thus in need of support. The relief agencies also do not shy away from hyping women as stereotypical victims and succeed in securing funds on the basis on this hapless portrayal. This blatant display of weakness to the public further downgrades their prospective role as leaders in a post-­ disaster situation. This results in them being pushed into the background as mere recipients of the aid and they, in turn, are made to feel obliged for whatever aid is being granted as if it was not by right but by charity. This welfarist attitude needs to be changed to one of empowerment. There are numerous examples when women have brought change and were the harbingers of change. They have succeeded in bringing in indigenous knowledge on board. For example, in an Indian state of Uttarakhand, women of the Kumaon region have used traditional knowledge to bring in sustainable forest and agriculture cultivation. It is not enough to have a gendered language of statements and action policies; it is important to make them a reality. This will not change until the time the mindsets change. The truth of our everyday experiences tells a different story. Many women believe that there is a need to move beyond the discourses and rhetorics that plagues pre- and post-disasters that have nothing to contribute in the actual times of disasters. Empowering women: However, the adversities can be turned into opportunities provided the women take the role of leadership upfront and use the disruption to build back better a society which respects them as equals. In

Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender  209 the absence of a man in a household, a woman often performs the duties of both household partners, i.e. a primary caregiver as well as a provider. Women can then use the presence of relief agencies and aid workers to empower themselves with the knowledge necessary to survive. The aid agencies can further invest in women-led ventures and create a chance of life change for the women as well as society as a whole. After women acquire access to the knowledge, the traditional roles can change, and this pattern can continue as part of post-disaster recovery. We need to not only invest more in DRR but invest in gender-sensitive DRR. The amount and effectiveness of resources allocated to gender and DRR need to increase. The entire relief amount must not be spent only on building stronger buildings to withstand the hazard but on creating an eco-friendly society which has all the elements of women empowerment as well as sustainability. This approach may take a longer time, but it must be adopted to not create a foundation for another secondary disaster. The documentation and case studies of best practices in DRR must highlight the women empowerment cases more than the structural safe spaces. Structurally safe spaces may or may not be gender safe. Hydrological disasters like tsunami, cyclone and floods can be predicted, providing suitable lead time in early warning and dissemination and subsequently preparedness. The household management of food like food procurement and storage is generally done by women. Therefore, they should be trained as important resilience assets in the preparedness of disaster.

Conclusion So far, gender mainstreaming into the disaster risk reduction process has been limited at conferences and academic discussions as witnessed over time in situations of many disasters. The mainstreaming should not be a trickle-down process but a bottom-up approach which requires initiation at the grassroots level. There is a need for more women to be seen on the ground as disaster rescuers, relief planners and rehabilitation architects and fewer of them as a picture for a cover page of some report/agency portraying them as victims and seeking more funds showcasing their plight. Women should be adequately trained in lifesaving skills such as swimming, boat rowing, first aid and also in relief planning. Women can be the best asset in planning for relief supplies, provisioning of ration during emergency, etc. Capacity building and inclusion of women in leadership roles in every phase of planning and every level from global to the national and local is the key to have gender-inclusive disaster risk reduction. The fourth priority of SFDRR’s focus on building back better can become reality if the gendered lens and component are taken seriously. In this regard, a disaster which is a disruption in the functioning of society can be turned into a window of opportunity to uplift the status of women and empower them to be at par in the ‘normal’ functioning of the society. There is an immediate

210  Priyanka Jha and Sukhreet Bajwa need for converting the mindset and attitude that limit the role of women as transformative agents. It is time that serious action goes into mainstreaming gender in contexts of disasters and conflicts.

Notes 1 Works of scholars like Anuradha Chenoy, Nira Yuval Davis, Rita Thapa, Women in Security, Peace and Conflict Management (WISCOMP) have been important in understanding the concerns of gender and conflicts in South Asia. 2 http://www.indiawaterportal.org/articles/cyclone-aila-2009. 3 This was reported by many organisations working in Sri Lanka and India during the 2004 tsunami relief and rescue operations. Traditional clothing was considered a major hindrance in women’s negotiation with it. 4 There have been reports about the aid workers being involved in the rape and sexual harassment of young children and women during the time of the Haiti earthquake. https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/home-news/oxfam-latestsex-scandal-prostitution-rape-children-haiti-warned-2008-save-the-­ children-a8214781.html;  https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/oxfam-sexscandal-proud-island-is-ready-to-shun-aid-organisation-that-came-to-assistsvwsxbbf2. 5 https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC1160583/. As stated in many reports, the cases of women facing domestic and mental violence go unstated, which has long-term impacts on the lives of these women. 6 https://www.unfpa.org/sites/default/files/pub-pdf/state_of_world_population_2009.pdf. This report clearly states that climate change leading to disasters of various kinds tends to increase the vulnerabilities of the most marginalised more acutely in case of women and requires urgent attention. 7 North-East India, Tripura and Assam have witnessed movements against illegal immigrants from Bangladesh with the active role of student and youth-based organisations like Chiring Chapori Yuva Morcha and All Assam Students Union (AASU), which have rallied around the concerns of security and have been largely anti-migrant in their demands of making borders less porous. 8 Neumayer, E., & Plümper, T., 2007 ‘The gendered nature of natural disasters: the impact of catastrophic events on the gender gap in life expectancy, 1981–2002’. Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 97(3): 551–566. 9 Agenda 21 is a United Nations action Plan (non-binding) concerning sustainable development adopted during the Earth Summit held in Rio in 1992. 10 This shift is teleological, as it has witnessed three world Conferences on Disasters as held in Yokohama (1994), Kobe (2005) and Sendai (2015) with guiding declarations. This shift represents a movement from the Yokohama strategy for safe world to the Hyogo Framework for Action to the present Sendai Framework to Disaster Risk Reduction. The remarkable journey of the focus shifting from disaster management to disaster risk reduction. https://www.unisdr.org/who-weare/history. 11 National Disaster Management Plan, 2016. A Publication of National Disaster Management Authority, Government of India, May 2016, New Delhi.

References Blanchet, T. 2003. Bangladeshi Girls Sold as Wives in North India. Dhaka: Dhrishti Research Centre. Enarson, E. 1998. ‘Through women’s eyes: A gendered research agenda for disaster social Science.’ Disasters, 22(2):157–173.

Disaster-induced water conflicts and gender  211 Enarson, E. 2000. ‘Gender and natural disasters’. Working Paper No. 1 Infocus Programme on Crisis Response and Reconstruction. Geneva: International Labour Organisation, Recovery and Reconstruction Department. Enarson, E., & Morrow, B. H., eds. 1998. The Gendered Terrain of Disaster: Through Women’s Eyes. Westport: Praeger. Jha, P. 2019. ‘Women and the Gaps in the framework of Disaster Risk Reduction’ In: Zutshi, B., Ahmad, A., & Srungarapati A., eds. Disaster Risk Reduction: Community Resilience and Responses, (pp. 231–239). Singapore: Palgrave Macmillan. Neumayer, E., & Plümper, T. 2007. ‘The gendered nature of natural disasters: The impact of catastrophic events on the gender gap in life expectancy, 1981–2002’. Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 97(3): 551–566 Ramachandran, S. 2005. ‘Indifference, Impotence, and Intolerance: Transnational Bangladeshis in India’, in Global Migration Perspectives, p. 42. Geneva: Commission on International Migration. Available at http://www.refworld.org/ docid/435f84da4.html, accessed 3 November 2018. UNFPA. 2009. ‘On the Move’, State of World Population Report, Facing a changing world: Women, Population and Climate, p. 35. https://www.unfpa.org/sites/ default/files/pub-pdf/state_of_world_population_2009.pdf. UNHCR. 2015. Global Trends Report: Forced Displacement. https://reliefweb.int/ report/world/unhcr-global-trends-forced-displacement-2015. UNISDR. 2011. Policy on Gender Mainstreaming in Disaster Risk Reduction. https://www.unisdr.org/files/42359_unisdrpolicyongender.pdf. Wisner, B. 2000. ‘From “acts of God” to “water wars”’. In: Parker, D. J., ed., Floods, (pp. 89–99). London: Routledge. Wisner, B., Blaikie, P., Cannon, T., & Davis, I. 2004. At Risk: Natural Hazards, People’s Vulnerability and Disasters. 2nd edition. London: Routledge.

10 Examining inter-linkages between water scarcity and human security A case study of Bundelkhand region of Uttar Pradesh, India Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta Water is an essential resource for human survival and well-being, and an indispensable input for the viability of rain-fed agriculture. The production from agriculture is immensely reliant on the timely water availability. Still, recurrent droughts along with scanty rains have reduced the food production and lessened the ecological dependence in many parts of the world, including countries of South Asia. Rain-fed agriculture is the critical source of subsistence of many people, and approximately 80 per cent of the global agricultural land that is rain-fed provides about 58 per cent of the global food basket (Sentlinger 2016). In India, a large number of people directly rely on agronomy as a primary source of livelihood. Drought primarily causes water scarcity due to deficient rainfall and the insufficiency of reservoirs, eventually resulting in crop failures and severe socio-economic sufferings. It affects significant patches of geographical area for short or long periods, having a severe effect on living, livelihoods and environment, and eventually affects all-around betterment of human beings. In recent years, large-scale intensive water scarcity due to the recurrence of droughts has been observed globally. It leads to widespread socio-­economic distress, ecological degradation, food shortages and mass starvation of the population (Gupta 2014). As a direct consequence of all these, the impoverishment-stricken poor farmers have been further marginalised, living with a minimum of sustenance and support. It has also explicated various human security issues such as food insecurity, health problems and inferior social dignity. The regular occurrence of environmental catastrophes in the form of droughts and famines has vastly affected the sustainability of agriculture due to which most of the people who are dependent on agriculture for subsistence are living under abject poverty. Land degradation and over-­exploitation of groundwater have also negatively affected the sustainability of food production and traditional irrigation systems. The emergent situation of hunger and malnutrition is entirely endemic and continuously sweeping the happiness of the region. Concisely, these causes have adversely affected the overall living standard of the people in India (Verma and Gupta 2017). The NITI Ayog report draws the data from all over India and reports that India is facing its worst-ever water crisis (Koshy 2018). Approximately 600 million people are facing intense scarcity of water, and

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  213 around 200,000 people die every year due to inadequate access to safe and clean water in India. Insufficient availability of good-quality water has negatively affected the rural areas, as they primarily rely on monsoon rains for farming. The irregular or inadequate rainfall has adversely affected agriculture production, threatening food security of inhabitants in India. Alarmingly, the report mentions that the states like Uttar Pradesh, Maharashtra, Jharkhand, Madhya Pradesh, Bihar and Chhattisgarh, ­ together containing almost half the population of India with large agriculture production, continuously face the problem of water scarcity due to the recurrence of droughts, leading to inadequate agriculture production. This has contributed to India’s overwhelming problems such as poverty, food insecurity, compromised health and human insecurity. Thus, these issues are creating an imbalance between social well-being and environmental resilience (Koshy 2018). Water scarcity is highly acute in several Indian states, namely Maharashtra, Orissa, Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. Focusing on the micro level, the Bundelkhand region is chronically poverty-stricken and notoriously known for farmers committing suicide under pressure due to crop failures arising out of water scarcity. The region is agriculture-based, and the majority of the inhabitants is entirely dependent on agriculture and allied activities for their subsistence and livelihood. Regular incidences of droughts, insufficient rainfall, falling groundwater tables, less crop production and inadequate irrigation facilities are proving detrimental to the happiness and human prosperity of the Bundelkhand region (Arya 2010). The situation has adversely affected the livelihood of the maximum number of residents and pushed them into the trap of a vicious circle of extreme poverty leading to food insecurity and health problems like malnutrition, anemia, tuberculosis, etc. (Singh 2012). Most ironically, the various aid programs run in the area for the improvement of conditions of local residents have not proved beneficial and remain mostly inaccessible. Looking at the global level, a similar pattern is noticed in other places, especially in third-world countries where people are living under acute water scarcity. Globally, only 2.5 per cent of the available freshwater resources are noted as clean water, and most remarkably, merely 0.3 per cent of water is relatively easy to get from existing rivers, swamps and lakes with diminutive rejuvenation cycles (Vermani 2015). According to the OECD Environmental Outlook, water scarcity adversely impacts about 50 per cent of the total population living in chronically drought-prone regions of the world, and affects around 80 per cent of the inhabitants living in developing countries, including India (Vermani 2015). WHO/UNICEF (2019) has presented extremely distressing facts about the water crisis in the world. According to the report, globally there are nearly 2.2 billion people who lack access to safe drinking water. Further, the report states that every year, 297,000 children die because of water-related diseases (WHO/UNICEF 2019). The data produced by the UN research reveal that by 2025, globally about 3.4 billion people will be living with an absolute scarcity of water (FDI Team 2014).

214  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta The World Water Report (2019) divulges that the rural farmers living in developing countries are mostly affected by water shortage because of their extreme dependency on rainfall for irrigation of the agricultural land. Further, the report states that smallholding farmers are most vulnerable due to their limited coping abilities, primarily from occupying marginal lands with less agriculture production and inadequate irrigation facilities (UNWWDR 2019). The World Bank reports that incessant water scarcity has adversely affected the agriculture and livestock production, further accelerating human security issues in many countries of the world mainly in South Asia (including India), Central Asia and Africa. The World Bank’s data reveal that due to severe water scarcity, more than 60 per cent of people in the world are facing some of the most challenging human security issues. They are prone to chronic hunger, indebtedness and lack of social respect. Water scarcity has been continuously lessening food production and, thus, sweeping human prosperity. It has forced people to live in extreme conditions of chronic poverty, and in many regions of the world, communities are hardly able to arrange two meals a day. This is creating many health-related problems, especially among women and children (The World Bank 2020). On a related note, it is found that Bundelkhand finds itself in a situation similar to that prevailing in other regions of the world due to recurrent droughts and water scarcity. On this background, this chapter examines two districts of the Bundelkhand region, namely Banda and Mahoba, which are located in Uttar Pradesh as depicted in Figure 10.1. The study covers 400 households through a primary survey in order to comprehend the existing condition of water insufficiency and how it infringes upon basic human rights of the aggrieved population. For ease of understanding, the chapter is divided into five sections which exclude introduction and conclusion. The first part discusses theoretical understanding of water scarcity and human security. The second section touches upon consequences of water problems in South Asia. The third section briefly describes the study area. The next section highlights the state of water scarcity and its effect on the locals of the Bundelkhand area. Analysis of various implemented development schemes run in the region has been done in the last section. The whole exercise is done taking into consideration the global experiences including South Asian context.

Water scarcity and human security: a theoretical understanding As a matter of concern, several scholars delineate the problem of water scarcity and human insecurity in different perspectives. In his study of Middle East and Africa, Doble (2011) finds that water scarcity continuously poses threats to human security and pushes the people to live in inferior socio-economic conditions. Regular shortage of water contributes to poor irrigation practices and reduces agriculture production, resulting in the problem of food insecurity. Insufficient nutrient food has negatively affected the health of inhabitants in many parts of Middle East and Africa,

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  215

Figure 10.1  Uttar Pradesh part of the Bundelkhand region, India.

leading to many health troubles such as anemia and malnutrition (Doble 2011). According to Owens and Hoddinott (1999), most of the developing countries consist of less-favored agriculture area which is characterised not only by low food productivity due to poorer soil and erratic rainwater but also by high population density. Their study further considers the population size as a significant factor for less agriculture production, saying that food is not growing at a pace with which the population is increasing in less-favored lands. The situation, in turn, results in the problems of chronic poverty and food insecurity (Fan and Hazell 1999). Keddy (2007) defines the issue of water crisis as a consequence of unremitting drought and as the occurrence of unpredictable monsoon, which varies in all climatic regions. The author further considers that droughts in the form of water scarcity are occurring not only due to natural events but are also attributable to human activities such as stone mining, deforestation and soil erosion, amongst others (Keddy 2007). According to UNDP Human Development Report (1994), the principal aspect of human security is regarded as the liberty from persistent predicaments such as poverty, starvation, health illness and

216  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta subjugation by locally dominant persons coupled with fortification from unexpected catastrophe. The report conceptually discloses the seven facets of the broader term ‘human security’ such as food security, ensuring good health, economic safety, personal protection, disaster management, and community and political security (Parr and Messineo 2011). Furthermore, several authors working on human development issues argue that human beings can be termed ‘secured’ when they have freedom from all threats and vulnerabilities like hunger, illness, environmental disasters, economic crises, political domination, etc. The report published by the International Commission on Intervention and State Sovereignty (2001) defines human security as people’s physical security, their socio-economic well-being, their self-esteem and their human rights safeguards. Thus, the report focuses attention on the social needs of those people who are seeking protection or assistance (ICISS 2001). The term ‘human security’ can be defined by the ‘hierarchy of needs’ which postulates five hierarchical levels of need. The first level is considered as physiological needs that meet the basic requirements of hunger, thirst, shelter, etc. The second level of need is safety and security that comprises the protection from physical threat, followed by third hierarchical need known as social need having feelings of belonging, affection, love, care, etc. The other levels are acknowledged as ego and esteem needs encompassing social approval, personal ability and self-identity. Lastly, self-actualisation need focuses on the needs of physically and psychologically healthy people. According to Maslow (1954), all succeeding levels of hierarchal needs are reliant on their preceding levels, and for an individual it is necessary to fulfil the lower need before seeking to satisfy higher needs. In most of the studies on water scarcity and human security carried out in India, the focus is mainly on measuring social security by defining the causes responsible for human insecurity because of its existence and negative impacts on various regions. In this respect, many Indian scholars have also studied the situation of water scarcity, which leads to issues of human security in India. Singh (2010) classifies droughts into moderate and severe categories depending upon the amount of rainfall. The region is described as severely drought-prone when more than 50 per cent of the area is severely affected by recurrently deficient rainfall. When about 26 to 50 per cent of the area is affected, the region is under the incidence of moderate drought (Singh 2010). Bhatia (1967) defines the term ‘famine’ as a situation of severe starvation faced by the majority of the population due to failure of the accustomed food supply in that region. The study focuses mainly on the government’s role in overcoming the scarcity of food during periods of famine. In the study he highlights the nature and causes of droughts and famines, which have been primarily attributed to the failure of monsoons, scanty rainfall and water scarcity leading to failure of crops (Bhatia 1967). Sharma (2015) draws attention to the significance of water safety in the context of human security from the viewpoint of national security and human development. The author finds that due to water scarcity, the majority of the population face chronic poverty, starvation, nutrition deficiency

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  217 and illiteracy on a regular basis. The study further explores that cultivation, inadequate irrigation facilities, increasing water demand attributable to rapid industrialisation, urbanisation, growing population size and vulnerability of changing environment are the major factors contributing to India’s water insecurity (Sharma 2015). Narayana (2016) posits that water scarcity is perpetually causing multiple damages to the agriculture production in the Bundelkhand region. It has forced the villagers to migrate from their residences in search of livelihood. In her study she finds that women are the biggest victims of the water crisis, as they are the ones who travel miles to fetch drinking water. The study points out that the pregnant mothers of the region are strikingly malnourished (Narayana 2016). Bathla (1999) interlinks water diminution and steady population growth by providing a comprehensive picture of socio-economic development of the nation. The continuous reduction in groundwater level directly affects the availability of a secure water resource for communities in those regions where rivers do not flow on a year-round basis (Bathla 1999). Khare and Bhandari (2006) observe that water is not treated as absolute public property, but rather its supply is under government control. Like in many other countries, water supply in India is not always reliable, and people bear a huge cost in terms of health issues because of this. In their research of water distresss in Delhi, they examine the adverse human and environmental impacts caused by inefficient quantity and quality of water available to the people (Khare and Bhandari 2006). Ironically, water scarcity is not directly the outcome of lack of resource availability, as many areas are gifted with a surplus of natural water resources having fairly flowing perennial rivers and adequate rainfall. The scarcity is due to administrative and political reasons, rooted in power disparity and social inequality. Studies on various perspectives of water scarcity and human security conducted by a cross-section of scholars reveal a multitude of factors behind the existing problems in general and India in particular. In a nutshell, it can be said that human security focuses on ensuring security of human beings from all threats such as hunger, diseases, insecurity of psychological well-being, social and economical insecurity which are generally caused by water scarcity, natural disasters, economic downturns, political repression, psychological stress, etc. Thus, it is vital to evaluate the impact of the government plans, policies and programs that have been designed to combat water crises and eradicate poverty in the Bundelkhand region.

Water scarcity and conflict in South Asia South Asia, one of the largest subcontinents of Asia, has bountiful water resources, which are the sources of livelihood for its inhabitants. However, the region is severely suffering from chronic water scarcity for the past many years, despite having a number of rivers like Ganges, Indus, Teesta, Brahmaputra, Mahakali and Meghna. The reason for this paradoxical situation is cited as growing population, environmental degradation, agricultural

218  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta dependency, rapid expansion of industries, hydropower plants and erratic rainfall (Bala 2018). It is observed that drought-related stress has negatively affected all aspects of rural life in these countries. Enhanced drought intensity has overwhelmed the agricultural landscape of South Asia, resulting in lower crop production. This underlying situation has pushed the people to live in dismal poverty, with the consequent problems of food insecurity, health-related diseases, job insecurity and human insecurity. It has further forced the villagers to migrate from native places to other regions in search of humanitarian security (IWMI 2015). The problem of water crises, in addition, has consequently fuelled a second level of conflicts in sharing river water among South Asian countries involving India, Nepal, Pakistan, Bhutan, Bangladesh, Afghanistan, Myanmar and others (Rasul 2019). To resolve the water issues peacefully, the governments of South Asian countries have signed the several water treaties such as Indo-Pak Water Treaty on Indus River, Ganga Water Treaty between India and Bangladesh, Mahakali (tributary of Brahmaputra river) Water Treaty between India and Nepal, and many more (Verghese 2008). Additionally, the governments have agreed for water reservoir and embankment projects for sharing the significant amount of electricity like Mangdechhu hydropower project between India and Bhutan, Tamanthi and Shwezaye projects between India and Myanmar, etc. (Bhaskar 2013). However, the current level of transboundary engagements and efforts is insufficient because of political interferences by the riparians over water-sharing agreements, thus affecting food production and livelihoods in water-deficient regions.

Bundelkhand region of Uttar Pradesh: a brief introduction Geographical profile Bundelkhand is considered the geographical heartland of India. The Bundelkhand region of Uttar Pradesh (UP) lies between 23°10’ to 26°30’ North latitude and between 78°20’ and 81°40’ East longitude. It is recognised for its distinct arid-type landscape, even though the region is encircled by the Ken River in east, the Betwa and Pahuj rivers in west, the Yamuna River in the north and the Vindhyan Hill in south. It is a semi-arid plateau consisting of seven districts of UP, namely Banda, Jhansi, Lalitpur, Jalaun, Mahoba, Hamirpur and Chitrakoot, with total area of 29,418 sq. km, or 12.21 per cent of the total geographical area of UP. In the region, the highest temperatures (as high as 48°C) occur in the summer and the lowest (as low as 1°C) in the winter. Furthermore, the area faces severe environmental conditions caused by deforestation and consequent topsoil erosion, which degrades the fertility and productivity of the land. The rainfall distribution pattern in the region is irregular. Over the last decade, the rainfall pattern has become very erratic and negatively affected the crop production (Verma and Pal 2014).

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  219 Demographic profile According to the 2011 census, the Bundelkhand region has a population of 18.2 million, of which slightly more than 9.6 million live in the Uttar Pradesh part of the region, with average population density of 277 ­persons/ sq. km. which is much lower than the state average of 830 persons/sq. km. The total population of UP-Bundelkhand is 9,659,718 of which 53 per cent are male and 47 per cent are female, corresponding to a ratio of 877 females for every 1,000 males, which is considerably lower than the national female:male ratio of 942:1,000. This indicates a significant decline in sex ratio and biases against female children in the UP-Bundelkhand region (UNDP 2016). About 82 per cent of the population live in rural areas. The literacy rate is 4.98 per cent, of which male and female literacy is 61.55 per cent and 38.45 per cent, respectively. Water insufficiency in the Bundelkhand region The region suffers from a long history of droughts and famines. More than 70 per cent of the rural population depends on crop production, livestock rearing and seasonal migration for their livelihood in the region. The occurrence of frequent droughts is shattering the socio-economic structure of the region. Over the years, the locals of Bundelkhand have experienced the incidence of severe shortage of water necessary for agriculture and domestic use. It witnessed ‘The Panic Famine’ of 1873–1874. The next stage of starvation began in Bundelkhand early in 1895 and dreadfully spread over the country during period of 1896–1897. According to the report on drought mitigation strategies for UP-Bundelkhand by the Inter-ministerial Central Team headed by Dr. J. S. Samra, every sixteen years during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the region faced the severe problem of drought, which increased threefold between 1968 and 1992 (Samra 2008). Drought became apparent in 2004–2005 with a 25 per cent deficit in rainfall, further increasing to 43 per cent in 2006–2007 and 56 per cent in 2007–2008, causing acute famine conditions. Furthermore, over that decade decade, worrying effects of enhanced drought days were more evident, leading to suicide cases of poor farmers, hunger deaths, mass exodus and even mortgaging of females (Gupta 2014). The threat of climate change looms over Indian agriculture, but in Bundelkhand, weather is unpredictable. Due to stormy weather in the summer, people of the area have to use premeditated ways for better management of agriculture and livestock based on systematically analysing the climatic system. In fact, in monsoon, locals are unable to have rainwater while it is so cold at the time of winter that their whole crop gets spoiled (Khurana 2008). Due to changing weather, most of the families either lose their animals to famine or set the cattle free to fend for themselves, and the locals themselves often struggle to arrange two meal in a day. Thus, in the unpredictable weather conditions, the proliferation of rain does not make

220  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta positive impact on farming, livestock rearing and other means of their survival (Kedia 2009). The continuously increasing droughts have dissipated the villagers’ source of income since the last decade, leaving them with little besides monsoon rains for irrigation. Farmers are unable even to get seeds for agriculture due to inadequate resources because the rainfall is too scant to meet the existing problems of starvation, food insecurity and crises of sustenance (Khurana 2008). The river systems existing in the Bundelkhand region are severely affected by monsoon failure. The retrogression of available surface water sources and reduction in groundwater level have led to unavailability of safe drinking water for the locals along with an adverse impact on natural flora and fodder for animals. Additionally, the tribal population residing in forest fringes is largely dependent on forest produce for their livelihood and thus have no other alternative but to continue to go deeper into the jungle in search of sustenance, causing further over-exploitation of resources. Consequently, frequent crop failure and running down of natural resources have led to increasing factors resulting in extreme poverty. Almost in every climatic season, the residents of UP-Bundelkhand suffer from severe water shortage due to irregular monsoon rains and successive dry days. The various manifestations of drought such as delayed rains, insufficient water in reservoirs and dry canals and wells are detrimental to good crop production. They ultimately curtail the livelihood of people and forces them to migrate from the region in search of their sustenance (Gupta 2014). Moreover, in the parched land of Bundelkhand, water scarcity often triggers caste conflicts between upper and lower social groups due to the upper casts possessing maximum control over water resources. They are highly established in the socio-economic power structure, having a dominating presence in the majority. Upper-caste members own the majority of the wells and tube wells and object to their use by members of lower castes. It has been consequently noticed that due to disputes over water sharing, lowe-caste citizens are left with a choice of either walking for miles to bring in water from outside their village – and often standing in long queues just to get water (Srivastava 2019) – or moving out of their homes in order to find more sustainable living arrangements (Deep 2015). The survey conducted by Lahariya (2019) also shows that the region is highly caste-based, with dalits denied an opportunity to fetch water from hand-pumps and wells situated outside their basti due to the influence of upper castes. Further, he finds that dalits are not allowed access to water sources in almost 50 per cent of villages and more than 20 per cent are denied access to drinking water because they belong to the ‘untouchable’ castes, which creates conditions ripe for social unrest. Furthermore, the landlords in rural Bundelkhand are receiving more benefits of special packages announced by the government related to agriculture and water aid due to their economic and political influence within the society. The marginalised farmers meanwhile remain off the beneficiary list, adding to the socio-economic conflict between the well-off and poor farmers. The

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  221 situation has forced the small farmers to live in worsening circumstances, as water shortage pushes them to abandon farming and look for work in hazardous places like stone threshing and beedi (thin cigarette) factories, as well as to borrow from moneylenders and banks for their daily needs (Kedia 2009). The situation is even more stark based on the study by Singh (2012), who finds class conflict arising out of water scarcity due to unequal land-holding patterns in the region. According to his study, large farmers with better access to government officials responsible for water distribution manage to get more benefits from canal-based irrigation by influencing when the water is released into a canal. Smaller, less influential farmers are mostly neglected when it comes to canal water usage, which results in diminished crop production on their arable lands. Besides creating a social rift between well-off and poor farmers, the result of this artificially created access inequality leads to high rates of suicide amongst the poorer farmers Thus, the existing literature uncovers that the inhabitants of Bundelkhand are, overall, facing worse conditions of daily living due to water scarcity, and many are deprived of social justice despite the government endeavours for the overall betterment of human prosperity. The new challenge in the form of the coronavirus pandemic has exacerbated the already ongoing water problems and triggered various human security issues. UNICEF and WHO recommendations include frequent handwashing and sanitising of homes and clothing as the most optimal ways to protect the ordinary people against infection (Bhowmick 2020). With no access to sanitiser, people are forced to clean with water, thus increasing their water consumption beyond the basics of relieving thirst, food preparation, and basic hygiene (not to mention the farming needs). Making matters worse, thousands of residents who have moved out of the region in search of work have been forced to move back either because work opportunities have dried up with the shutdown of many socio-economic activities, or to care for frail relatives or children (Ghosh 2020). The influx of migrant workers returning from cities has increased water consumption and proved to be a foremost challenge in maintaining social distancing in the region because of the need to fetch water from shared taps or wells. The return migration has worsened the already existing problems of poverty, hunger and unemployment along with increasing the average time spent on the process of actually getting water from the remaining common-access sources (Kashyap 2020). Faced with an impossible choice, many people forego frequent handwashing and other clean-living activities necessary to stem the virus spread, which of course makes the overall situation in the UP-Bundelkhand region worse. Thus, the once-thriving Bundelkhand is now notoriously recognised as one of the poorest and backward regions in India. The region is mired in long-lasting challenges of runaway poverty, hunger and malnutrition because of regular droughts, acute water scarcity and crop failures. The majority of rural population is trapped in a vicious cycle of borrowing at exhorbitant rates in order to just survive and then being crushed by that debt due to the dirth of opportunities to earn a decent income.

222  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta Conflict over water use

Water scarcity

▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪ ▪

Drought/Errac rainfall

Crop failure Food insecurity Health predicaments Indebtedness Mass migraon Social unrest Psychological stress Suicides

Breakdown of socio-economic and ecological resilience

Figure 10.2  Water scarcity induced socio-economic conflicts.

Figure 10.2 illustrates interlinkages between water scarcity and conflicts over water use adversely affecting the socio-economic resilience of the communities in the Bundelkhand region. On this background, the problem of water scarcity can be considered a key concern of human insecurity in the Bundelkhand region. The field observation through the survey in Banda and Mahoba districts clarifies the exact situation of the inhabitants in the region. Source of livelihood People in the study region are facing a serious financial crisis and are surviving with minimum basic amenities. They are unable to fulfil their basic requirements of daily living and to afford even elementary education for their children. Nutritional food and health facilities remain a distant dream for these vulnerable sections of population. The majority of them are engaged in agriculture work and informal labour which does not guarantee a permanent source of income. As is evident from the Figure 10.3, more

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  223 56.50%

21.50% 12%

7.50%

2.50% Agriculture

Labour

Service

Trade/Shop

Other

Figure 10.3  Sources of livelihood in the surveyed districts. Source: Primary data.

than half of all households are engaged in agriculture-based economy and about one-fourth are working as daily wage labourers at various positions like seasonal agricultural labour, labour under MGNREGA programme, stone threshing and so on. Furthermore, 12 per cent of households are self-employed and engaged in different types of independent income-generating activities like street hawker, vegetable vendor, kirana (grocery) shopkeeper, etc. Only 2.5 per cent of the respondents are in formal private or government jobs. Data show that the residents are highly dependent on agriculture for their survival, but recuurent droughts have been continuously affecting crop production, leaving the people who rely on agriculture as a source of income in chronic poverty. It has forced a large number of villagers to work in unsafe and hazardous factories away from their native places. Crop loss More than 60 per cent of households have faced the problem of crop loss due to various reasons (Figure 10.4). About 55.8 per cent of respondents report the recurrence of droughts as the primary reason for their crop loss while about 5.5 per cent lists hailstorms as responsible for crop failure. Only 3.5 per centof respondents claim that animals have destroyed their crops. Here, data reveal that drought is the major cause of crop loss. Prolonged duration of droughts along with the irregular rainfall has resulted in crop failure, and thus people of the region have become poorer. The result is chronic water scarcity, leading to loss of livelihoods among agriculture-dependent residents of the regions.

224  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta 55.80%

35.20%

3.50% Drought

Grazing by stray animals

5.50% Hailstorm

Not applicable

Figure 10.4  Reasons of crop loss as evidenced by the residents. Source: Primary data.

Water scarcity Agriculture being the main occupation in the region, the effect of drought is observed in the form of decrease in production and consequent fall in employment of agricultural labourers. Acute vulnerability to drought intensifies the poverty of chronically poor and makes the non-poor transiently poor. Adequate rainfall or irrigation is the crucial need for agricultural production. Unfortunately, if one analyses the rainfall, it seems to be satisfactory, but in reality it is not. Due to this uneven and irregular rainfall, certain villages of the study region are continuously drought-affected and facing the regular scarcity of water. Focusing on South Asia, the water crisis is predominantly severe in the subcontinent, leaving about 2.2 billion people with restricted access to safe drinking water. Simultaneously, inhabitants are hardly able to arrange the water for farming due to continuous shortage of water caused by acute drought (Sambhi 2020). About 68.8 per cent of the surveyed households are facing severe water scarcity (Figure 10.5). Most of them report that they are mostly dependent on rainwater for irrigation, but the intensity of rainfall does not meet their expectation, and the onset of rain is also erratic, not matching with the crop cycle. Apart from the dependency on rainfall, residents use tube wells, wells and canals to irrigate arable lands, but those remain dry for most of the time due to regular droughts. Thus, alternative water resources for saving crop during scanty rainfall are quite frustrating. It harms the agricultural production greatly, as well as serves as fuel for numerous social conflicts leading to multifaceted human security issues for the locals.

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  225 68.80%

31.20%

Severe water scarcity

Moderate to low water scarcity

Figure 10.5  Households facing water scarcity. Source: Primary data.

Human security issues Water scarcity is a mounting issue in the Bundelkhand region where most of the population is engaged in agriculture and its allied activities. They are highly dependent on rainwater for irrigation, but the unpredictable monsoon has narrowed the agricultural production and left farmers in a pathetic situation. The situation has shifted the locals’ dependency on monsoon to alternative resources of water to fulfil their requirements. The alternative resources like wells, tube wells and canals are mostly controlled by socially and financially dominant persons who usually leave poor people neglected in their water requirements. It has raised social conflicts among inhabitants, leading to various human security issues such as poverty, food insecurity, health problems, migration, social unrest and farmer’s suicide in some acute circumstances. Figure 10.6 shows that a considerable part of the households (34.5 per cent) live with chronic food insecurity caused by low crop production as a result of severe water scarcity. Based on the survey, caste and class discrimination is observed as another reason for increasing food insecurity. Supporting the field observations, UNDEF report on food insecurity in the Bundelkhand region reveals that the possession of community water resources by few landlords has created social conflict among locals. It ultimately produces the problem of water insufficiency for poor farmers, leading to food insufficiency (UNDEF 2015). The data further illustrates that the lack of adequate food leads to ill health, especially among women, children and elder persons. From the survey, it is found that more than one-fourth of the households are facing many health-related problems like anemia, malnutrition, tuberculosis and at times death due to chronic starvation. Furthermore, it is observed that the denial of water share has increased the dependency on rainfall for irrigation in this drought-prone region, resulting in less agriculture production. As a consequence, it is found that

226  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta Suicides 2%

Other Problems 3%

Social Unrest 13% Migraon 21%

Food Insecurity 35%

Health Problems 26%

Figure 10.6   Human security issues caused by social conflicts rooted in water deprivation. Source: Primary data.

about one-fourth of the households are compelled to live with chronic poverty or to migrate from their inherent habitats. The figures of mass migration within countries and across borders due to water scarcity at the global level, including South Asia, are astonishingly alarming. International Labour Organization (ILO) report estimates about 164 million total migrations in the world annually, which constitute mainly migrant workers. A cross migration of around 24.6 million people within the South Asian subcontinent is estimated in search of job due to unremitting poverty caused by regular drought and water shortfalls (Rutkowski 2020). Similar trends of migration are observed in the study region due to water scarcity. It is caused by recurrent drought and conflict between upper and lower social groups over water use due to objection of fetching water from alternative resources controlled by influenced persons in the society. Apart from this, social conflicts have deteriorated the social relations of people with others in the society. Around 12.8 per cent of households admit that they don’t have any relationship with others and do not participate in social functions. The main reasons given are indebtedness and inferiority, due to which they face undignified social status. In a similar study, Alam (2019) finds that conflict over water use has hampered the people’s harmonious and cordial relationships in the society. The study further states that on several occasions, the locals are mostly keeping away from participation in social functions, lessening the degree of their involvement in social and cultural life with others in the community (Alam 2019). The next human security issue caused by water scarcity arising out of erratic rainfall and inaccessibility to alternative resources of water is indentified as farmers’ suicide. The collected data show that nine households confirmed that instances of suicide in their family were caused by prolonged starvation. They report that for a long time almost every year, they face the problem of water scarcity due to recurrence of droughts. They further inform that large farmers exercise their socio-economic and political

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  227 influence to control and deprive them access to water sources for irrigation. The situation has pushed the marginalised farmers to take large loans from local moneylenders for their daily needs. As a result, it has created social unrest among weaker sections, leaving the residents under tremendous psychological stress. Sometimes bowing down to social and psychological pressure, they eventually commit suicide. Shukla’s (2019) findings from a survey in the Banda and Mahoba districts closely supports the collected data: he found that at least fifteen farmers ended their own lives in July 2019 alone due to inability to repay the debt taken from local moneylenders and banks. Level of development in the Bundelkhand region The government has come forth with numerous programs to improve the living conditions of the poor. These programs include building better infrastructure, improving sanitation and hygiene, women and children health, employment generation, combating water scarcity, eradicating poverty, etc. The more immediate relief measures, operated by both the central and state governments, include low-cost or no-cost food for the marginalised sections of society, assistance in constructing or purchasing houses, providing better sanitation facilities and offering education and employment opportunities aimed at giving people a measure of pride and self-esteem in their daily lives. In the Bundelkhand region specifically, the government has implemented several programmes. The list of programmes, run by both the central and state governments, to revitalise and revive community engagements and support village-level institutions is presented in Table 10.1. The list includes the National Watershed Development Programme for Rain-fed Areas (NWDPRA) which provides employment through watershed development, aimed at increasing groundwater level and improving agriculture productivity in Table 10.1   Benefits drawn from government-implemented programmes aimed at revitalising community engagements and supporting village-level institutions Programs

Number of Households

Percentage

NWDPRA IWDP MNREGA Mid-Day Meal Public Distribution System (PDS) Health Card Yojna No Benefit Total

5 12 108 86

1.2 3.0 27.0 21.5

137

34.2

8 44 400

2.0 11.0 100.0

Source: Primary data.

228  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta rainfed areas; the Integrated Wasteland Development Programme (IWDP) that is targeted towards the restoration of wastelands in non-forest areas aimed to prevent land degradation; the Public Distribution System (PDS) in which staples and kerosene oil are distributed at a subsidised rate; Health Card Yojna; Maya Garibi Anudan Yojna; Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MNREGA); etc. These programmes have been widely recognised as the governmen’s commitment to social welfare for the vulnerable segments of the population supplemented by economic development packages (Dutta et al. 2019). Much more, however, needs to be done in this direction. A detailed mapping of implications of the schemes in the study area is presented in the following section. It is observed that PDS is showing good penetration of the area, and a large number of people are getting benefits from this scheme (Table 10.1). Slightly more than 34 per cent of the households get wheat, rice, kerosene oil and other commodities from PDS outlets. The second most successful scheme is MNREGA, which guarantees 100 days of employment to augment earning capacities of poor households. About one-fourth of the surveyed households are getting assistance from this programme. About 21 per cent of the households are getting benefits from the Mid-Day-Meal scheme, and only 2 per cent of the households are taking advantage of Health Card Yojna, which helps them receive health treatments up to the Rs. 30,000 free of charge. Around 3 per cent of the households are receiving benefits under the IWDP, which offers to improve the livelihoods of agriculture-­dependent households through rainwater harvesting and multi-crop cultivation in wasteland areas. Only 1.2 per cent of households are taking advantage of similar benefits provided under the auspices of NWDPRA. These low numbers are not indicative of the progammes’ lack of popularity, however, but rather indicate that many subsistence farmers are too cut off from accessing the available government help that targets income generation through agricultural water management. It is well known – and survey data on which this chapter is based support it – that in rural areas, socially and economically dominant persons habitually interfere in identification of beneficiaries under the various development programs. At the local level, they have an important position in decision-making and play a significant role in the implementation of government programs, ignoring the legitimacy of panchayat raj institutions. It is noted that 45.5 per cent of respondents admit to the existence of interference of such persons, while 30 per cent of the surveyed households refute this. Alarmingly, the data reveal that around one-fourth of the population has no idea about the intrusion of local influential people (Figure 10.7). Furthermore, it is observed that the majority of the locals are not fully satisfied with the welfare schemes. Table 10.2 shows that 43.8 per cent of the households receive the benefits of such programmes occasionally, and only 18.2 per cent of households receive them regularly. Only 10.5 per cent households confirm receiving the full scope of benefits to which they are

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  229

Don’t know 25%

Yes 45%

No 30%

Figure 10.7  Interference of dominant persons in implementation of programmes. Source: Primary data.

Table 10.2  Level of benefits of development programmes Level of Benefits

Number of Households

Percentage

Fully obtained Mostly obtained Obtained occasionally No benefits availed Not applicable Total

42 73 175

10.5 18.2 43.8

84 26 400

21.0 6.5 100.0

Source: Primary data.

entitled. Disturbingly, 21 per cent of the households are not getting any benefits from any programme to which they are entitled. The respondents further have cited many reasons for not receiving the benefits of implemented programmes. Reasons cited for lack of or limitations in access include, among others, corrupt officials, institutional inefficiencies, and interference on the part of locally influential individuals. Figure 10.8 shows that 29 per cent of the households consider nepotism on the part of government officials administering the programmes locally as the main reason why they are unable to access the benefits of available schemes, while 28 per cent households cite corruption as the main reason. The study region is highly caste-ridden, so it’s not surprising that a significant percentage of those surveyed (close to 8 per cent) consider casteism as the main reason they are not receiving complete benefits from the programmes. As previously mentioned, upper-caste members and welloff farmers habitually receive the bulk of food and water assistance, which

230  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta Not applicable 7% Doesn’t know 8% Bias in making BPL list 10%

Corrupon 28%

Polical dominance 10%

Casteism 8% Neposm 29%

Figure 10.8  Reasons for not getting benefits of development schemes, as cited by the responsents. BPL, below poverty line. Source: Primary data.

leads to caste and class conflicts and worsening human security challenges such as indebtness, migration, heath problems and farmer suicide. Apart from state and central governments, non-governmental organisations (NGOs) are also working in the region for welfare of people and society. NGOs play a significant role in the development of the region by providing various supports to the aggrieved people. Generally, they work for children, women, poverty eradication, healthy environment, education, business and employment opportunities. They help in improving health status by setting up health camps and distributing medicines at low or no cost. They facilitate employment opportunities for the people by providing them training and imparting professional knowledge. In the study area, however, the work of NGOs has not been satisfactory. Only 4.2 per cent of the surveyed households confirm the presence of NGOs in the region working in various fields of development. Only

Table 10.3  Areas where NGOs have contributed in the community Areas in which NGOs have contributed

Number of Households

Percentage

Education of children Health care facilities Employment schemes Business development Any other Not contributed Total

4 1 3 4 5 383 400

1.0 0.2 0.8 1.0 1.2 95.8 100.0

Source: Primary data.

Examining water scarcity-security linkages  231 1 per cent of the respondents state that NGOs are working for promoting the education of children; 0.8 per cent affirm their help when it comes to employment opportunities; around 1 percent confirmed that NGOs provide help in their business activities; and only 0.2 per cent received NGO-­ sponsored healthcare assistance (Table 10.3). Thus, overall data illustrate that NGOs are not playing an active role in social development and economic welfare activities. The roles NGOs currently play are clearly inadequate given the low penetration of benefit programmes they sponsor among the local populace.

Conclusion The preceding discussion indicates that several existing structural predicaments are the hindrance in development and growth of the region, which have adversely affected the human prosperity and daily life of the residents. The region is exceedingly agriculture-based, with most of the population reliant on farming for their subsistence and livelihood. But frequent droughts have weakened the economic independence of the locals and pushed them into a vicious circle of poverty and indebtedness. More than half of the population have faced the problem of crop loss in the last five years due to absence of reliable irrigation facilities or the recurrence of natural disasters like droughts and hailstorms. Successive droughts have also affected the natural drains, groundwater tables and irrigation facilities, which are fast depleting in the region. In the study area, canals and rivers are the primary sources of irrigation for a large number of inhabitants, but they remain parched most of the time. Water scarcity has increased the dependency of poor farmers on alternative water resources, to which their access is restricted because of their poor economical conditions and caste-ridden local politics. Consequently, the prevailing circumstances have put a burden on the poor households (especially women) to secure even just drinking water, let alone water necessary for farming. It has unfavorably affected crop production and pushed the locals to live with various predicaments such as poverty, food insufficiency, health troubles, conflicts over water use, migration, indebtedness, suicide, psychological stress and exclusion from social functions. It is evident from the survey that more than 60 per cent of the households are facing the problem of food insecurity and ill-health and the majority of locals have migrated from the region in search of a sustainable livelihood. About 12.8 per cent of those surveyed have reported non-participation in social functions as well as lack of cordial social relations with others in the society. The reasons listed are social conflict arising out of water scarcity and the feeling of inferiority caused by indebtedness due to which they largely remain excluded from social activities. Furthermore, an examination of the implementation of governmental and non-governmental programmes divulges that most of the households have access to the PDS under which the poor people receive food

232  Manish K. Verma and Narendra Gupta staples at affordable prices. The other most beneficial programme is MGNREGA, through which locals are getting employment to augment their earnings. The third highly beneficial scheme is found to be the MidDay Meal. But as a whole, only one-third of the residents in the surveyed region have benefitted from these programmes. Very few people draw benefits from water-aid programs funded by the central and state governments. The findings reveal that the benefits of the existing government schemes of social and economic welfare have not fully benefitted the people of the area. Residents confirm that corruption, inefficiency in the existing system and interference on the part of the local influential persons are the main issues responsible for such dismal conditions. By and large, NGOs are not playing an active role in social development and economic welfare activities. Their role as facilitator to access various services such as healthcare, professional/ vocational training and employment, education, resources for self-employment, etc. in general has been less than adequate. The services rendered by NGOs in promoting the development of the area are found unsatisfactory, since they are not at all beneficial in welfare and development activities. This suggests that NGOs have mostly been unsuccessful in assisting the needy people and promoting the welfare and inclusive development of the area. The government-implemented programmes targeted to provide better living standards are not run much better in the drought-affected areas. The reasons behind the failure of these programmes are corruption, casteism, nepotism and insufficiencies of implementation in the existing system. In a nutshell, it can be said that water scarcity breeds many social conflicts. In the absence of well-planned development programs and efficient delivery systems, disadvantaged people do not get proper access to social welfare schemes. As a result, the pace of progress in the region has remained stunted, and the poor continue to suffer from human security issues. Thus, it is a critical policy-level concern which requires immediate attention of the state authorities, as various programs have failed to provide a secured and dignified living to people in this region. These findings will help in formulation of appropriate policy startegies to solve some of the wicked problems that originate in water conflicts breeding social scarcity of resources.

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11 Urban rivers and their riverfronts When restoration becomes real estate projects Prerna Yadav

Rivers have been the focal points of prosperity since human civilisation began. As the transition from pastoral to agrarian livelihood happened, human settlements tended to arrange themselves near water sources. Most of the present urban agglomerations are around them, as these settlements gradually grew in their number and density. Those settlements whose population remained limited along with the physical and technological advancements remained rural, while urbanisation modified forms, structure and functionality of natural lands in order to develop more compact and integrated settlements. The densification led to limited peripheral growth of natural resources as connected road networks, public spaces and gated townships developed. This created a new design and functionality element for rivers passing through an urban catchment. Urban local bodies came up with a dichotomy in the classification of rivers, namely ‘urban rivers’, and their upstream-downstream stretch as ‘rural rivers’. This chapter is an attempt to understand the meaning of an urban river and its attributes to the people of that particular urban agglomeration. With technocratic and neoliberal ideology fuelling urban development as ‘engines of growth’, the utilitarian principle has come to define and delineate boundaries of natural resources, including riverbanks. As the chapter delves into the subjectivity that is inherent in an infrastructure project, of concern here is the ‘riverfront development project’ (RDP) wherein rivers flowing through an urban area have become an avenue to trade and investment to the outside world, as a parameter for township development projects generating private value through public investment. The RDPs involve projects executed by civil engineers which marginalise the role rivers play in the fluvial ecology and the socio-cultural fabric of the settlements on their banks. As these settlements have grown, the dichotomy of rivers as ‘urban’ and ‘rural’ came into sight. Primarily differentiated on the size of their riverbank settlements, they have defined attributes, i.e. the urban rivers are the ‘pitiable’ ones deprived of oxygen and biological life, primarily used as a drain for sewage and wastewater discharge. These rivers and their banks had been categorised as marginal areas for a long time. As the global precept of ‘world-class city’, beautification and gentrification of the urban centres emerged, urban infrastructures centred on the

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  237 rivers also became prominent (Daenport et al. 2001). Marketed as river restoration, or river rejuvenation schemes, the riverfront development projects involve river channelisation and concretisation of the banks (Dutta et  al. 2018). Each bank is mortar paved and the river is limited in its width with continuous concrete embankments, followed by the beautification of the banks with walkways, promenades, parks, sidewalks, street shops, restaurants and others. The river may or may not be deepened by the dredging of sand and silt from the river bottom to hold more water volume. In the West, the riverfront developments materialised on the banks of the Thames in London, the Seine in Paris, the Rhine in Germany, mostly during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. In the East, the concept of riverfront development has been a relatively new phenomenon. In India, which is considered the land of rivers with most of them as lifelines for urban agglomerations, rivers have emerged central to changing the image of cities. A step to be part of the ‘world-class city’ paradigm, these urban agglomerations seek to have a global outreach and state-of-the-art infrastructure in the transitions under globalisation (Bryson 2012). As the upper echelons of these urban agglomerations seek to be outward, riverfront development projects become a viable option to clean and beautify the image of their cities. The Sabarmati Riverfront Development Project (SRDP) was first of its kind in the country. Proposed in the 1960s by a French-American architect, Bernard Kohn, in Ahmedabad, the present riverfront development materialised in the 1997 master plan. In 1997, this blueprint was put forth by non-profit urban planning, development and management firm called Environmental Planning Collaborative (EPC) after the special vehicle Sabarmati Riverfront Development Corporation Limited (SRFDCL) reached out to it. SRFDCL was formed by the municipal government (Desai 2006). The rationale behind this chapter is to understand the administrative presumption given for these environment-centric development projects in the context of the rivers which they claim to restore and rejuvenate. The chapter starts with the Sabarmati riverfront. This includes understanding the river, the urban agglomeration that emerged on its banks, and how an urban infrastructure project could change the social and economic fabric of the city further relegating the marginalised section of the society to the periphery. Meant to fulfil the vision of the few, the project led to the unfolding of bleak reality for the environment and the lower section of the society in this neoliberal globalised world. Drawing from this, an environment-­centric lens is used to view the second riverfront project, the Gomti riverfront (GRDP), that materialised in the city of Lucknow in Uttar Pradesh. The same sequence is followed, i.e. understanding the river, its urban agglomeration and the resultant devastations caused in the environmental and socio-economic terms. While for the SRDP, existing literature has helped to understand the social and economic attributes of the project, there are hardly comprehensive studies regarding its environmental attributes. And for the GRDP, the collection of primary data has been critical for understanding the consequences. An effort is made to bring out the differences in

238  Prerna Yadav the rivers and the impacts of the riverfront development projects to argue that such ‘beautification’ projects are financially, socially and environmentally unviable in a country like India.

Sabarmati riverfront development project Sabarmati and its urban agglomeration ‘Ahmedabad’ The Sabarmati River flows through western India. It originates in Rajasthan and drains into the Arabian Sea at the Gulf of Khambhat after covering a 371-km distance across the states of Rajasthan and Gujarat. The city of Ahmedabad is the most important urban agglomeration on its riverbanks. Established in the fifteenth century by a rebel Delhi sultanate noble named Ahmed Shah, it is today a bustling city with a population of 5,557,000 as of 2011 census. It is home to one of the world’s best architectural heritage owed to its magnificent sultanate and impressive Hindu architecture. In a city profile drawn by Mahadevia (2014), a spatial division along the lines of caste, class, religion, housing standards, availability and accessibility of basic amenities is made into three types. Sabarmati plays a fundamental role in this division. The eastern riverbank is occupied by the old walled city, organised in residential colonies with homogeneity of class, caste and religion, while the western riverbank is the residential space of the affluent with best health and education services and an assured supply of basic amenities. The last part is the east industrial zone which houses the working-class and low-income groups. The city has always been an important trading town since its establishment, but during the post-1991 era, driven by liberalisation, privatisation and globalisation, rapid economic growth had ensued. From its importance as a trade centre for opium to China under the British to its flourishing textile industry post-independence, the city became the financial capital of the state (Mahadevia et al. 2014). Mahadevia’s (2002) work has discussed the restructuring of the textile industry in the 1980s to match the global textile sector and the 1991 liberalisation, privatisation and globalisation drive which served as the critical juncture for transition to city-level planning units being influenced by global thinking and emergence of the ‘world-class city’ concept. As the ensuing competition between metropolitan cities for greater economic efficiency, exclusion of marginal sections of society is often the path taken to match the Western standards, increasingly defined as global standards. The exclusion of marginal areas and marginal people is common in these globalising fast-paced urban spaces. The city of Ahmedabad, as claimed on the city’s municipal website, is India’s ‘best city to live in’ in terms of its infrastructure, and the well-­ managed city finances that help in providing quality basic amenities such as water, sanitation, sewerage services and public transport system, though has a low HDI performance. Mahadevia et al. (2014) in their work claim that phenomenal economic growth has not translated into social development, with high inequality in class, gender and communal bifurcation.

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  239 The riverfront project is discussed as another infrastructure project aimed at the gentrification of the city with global standards, marketed as ‘giving back to nature’, which has further deepened the inequalities and pushed the marginalised into destitution (Ghertner 2014). In the next section, what entailed Sabarmati Riverfront Development Project is noted, followed by a detailed understanding of the river, which is important for building the narrative around the social and economic consequences of the project. SRDP’s blueprint As a flagship riverfront project, SDRP proposed to revitalise and rejuvenate the river, integrating it into the city’s environmental, financial and cultural sphere; instead, it ended up concreting its banks and terraces. This could be assessed from the activities that were involved in the project, such as dredging from the edges and bottom of the river to deepen it; construction of retaining walls and concrete embankments and walkways; landscaping of the riverbanks with exotic as well as native ornamental plants; construction of gazebos, promenades, riverfront and underwater restaurants, street cafes, cycling tracks and an area for street vendors; and the construction of the Ahmedabad Eye (similar to the London Eye, the Ferris wheel). This all revolved around the Sabarmati River and its riverbanks, which in the past had been left for the marginalised or for the dumping of city’s solid waste. Transformation of a town into a ‘world-class city’ essentially serves the private interests, as it becomes evident when the economic implications are discussed. Before delving into the details, let us take a look at the river that centuries ago was the foci around which the city grew, and its metamorphosis into an ‘urban river’. The sabarmati river and its metamorphosis into an ‘urban river’ One of the four major rivers of western India that falls into the Arabian Sea, the Sabarmati River takes a 371-km journey through Rajasthan and Gujarat with a catchment area of over 21,674 km2. It flows through a terrain that is hilly until it reaches Dharoi, where the Dharoi Dam has been built, after which it flows in the south-westerly direction through the plains of Gujarat. It enters Ahmedabad near Hansol and passes north–south through the city for a stretch of 20–25 km, considered the metropolis’s lifeline. With two climatic regions as part of its catchment, i.e. the subtropical wet climate in the northern part and the tropical wet climate in the latter, and the absence of a glacial source of origin, it receives most of its flow from monsoon and groundwater to be a perennial river until the Dharoi Dam was built. This restriction on its inflow was aggravated by the dams on most of its tributaries as well, such as the Sie dam, Harnav dam, Gulai dams and others. Apart from the quantitative aspects such as reduction in flow

240  Prerna Yadav volumes, it is in a dismal state qualitatively as well. In the basin description of the river by the National Institute of Hydrology, Roorkee, that catalogs all the rivers in the country along with their quantitative and qualitative attributes, the Sabarmati is listed among the most polluted rivers in India. In Kumar et al. (2013) work that studied seasonal variation in heavy metal contamination in water and sediments of the river, the dissolved oxygen was abysmally low in pre-monsoon months, owed to industrial effluent discharge, wastewater inflow and uptake for irrigation. Kumar et al. (2011) work that studied the Water Quality Index of the river and its Kharicut canal indicated that the canal in Vatva, originally built to facilitate irrigation to the peri-urban villages, was turned into a drain for effluent discharge from the adjacent Gujarat Industrial Development Corporation (GIDC) units. Also, the upstream pollution load from the metropolis resulted in severe contamination to the river, such as heavy metal contamination and high fecal coliform values (in thousands per 100 ml, which ideally should be 0 or 1–2 per 100 ml). To deal with the sewage and wastewater discharge into the river, the SRDP blueprint called for the construction of two sewage interceptor lines with new pumping stations along the reclaimed riverbanks for carrying untreated sewage and effluent from the city to sewage treatment plants (STPs) south of Vasna barrage. Instead, rather than being transferred to STPs for treatment, the sewage and the effluent load was just shifted downstream of the barrage, post the Sabarmati stretch that was to go through gentrification (Kumar et al. 2013). This was aggravated by the influx of soil, cement and particulate matter that ended in the river during its beautification. Kumar et al. (2013) quantifies this in terms of changed acidity values of river water, high biological oxygen demand (BOD), chemical oxygen demand (COD), total dissolved solids (TDS) and heavy and trace metals. Situating this mounting pollution within the taglines such as ‘respecting the river’, ‘a return gift to mother nature’ and ‘a gift long overdue’, used for the project wherein it was necessarily portrayed as environment oriented rather than the regular infrastructure project, is critical for understanding the double standards for the environment and the marginalised. SRDP essentially involved restricting pollutant entry into the river channel when river transverses the city, building barricades upstream as well as downstream to enable this. A shortfall in water volume would be compensated by the inter-basin transfer from the Narmada River. The rerouting of Narmada waters from the proposed recipients in drought-hit Kutch and Saurashtra regions to the Sabarmati is reflective of the importance given to an urban infrastructure project and urban rather than supplementary agricultural use. The influx of ten million cubic meter of Narmada waters into Sabarmati was touted as a malaria-preventing measure, with the rationale that a continuous flow would reduce breeding of mosquitoes. Moreover, the increased flow would allow the river to have a perennial flow through the city. With the increased volume of water in the river channel and deviation of effluent and sewage discharge to the downstream

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  241 beyond the gentrified river stretch, environmental considerations seem to have materialised (Sharma & Dutta 2020). The inconsistency of this is seen within the river restoration perspective based on ecological considerations that are coherent with these two key thoughts. First, the river restoration principle is negated, as the transregional nature of the river is neglected along with no consideration given to downstream ecology and corresponding biota. These externalities reduce the perceived benefits by a considerable margin. Second, the pollutants such as heavy or trace metals and others have a tendency to get adsorbed and absorbed at the bottom of the river in sediments and have a disastrous effect on the river ecology. Like any natural resource in the neoliberal frame developed along with the utilitarian principle, rivers are exploited for maximum gains as well, envisioned within tubes and pipes assembled for anthropogenic benefit rather than as a nature’ lifeline, an ecological entity with wetlands, and floodplains (Allan 2004). A small consideration is given to the natural cycle of flooding and drying owed to change in flow volume before, during, and after the monsoon season. This oscillating pattern evolved within geomorphological interactions of the river and its surroundings. It plays an important role in facilitating gene pool exchange, as it allows migration of animals for breeding across the two banks in areas where they are still found, which can be confirmed with finding a correlation between the breeding cycles and seasonal river flow cycles. In the case of peri-urban and urban areas, this cycle of river receding and advancing, with the riverbank mainly abandoned in the season of the dejcline, has been used for peri-urban farming. In the riverfront projects, the concreting of river and maintenance of the static flow volume regardless of the season forfeits its natural oscillations. The reason flow volume acquires such importance for rivers in India is their seasonality. Riverfront development is a Western concept which aims at the gentrification of the city. Most of these rivers such as the Seine in Paris are plain-fed rivers wherein the flow volume is more or less constant throughout the year, with a slow and steady fall or rise in its level. When the infrastructure projects formulated around one kind of river are superimposed on other such projects without consideration of their inherent differences, an environmental disaster is bound to unfold (Amruta 2014). This ‘universal’ approach to riverbank development is combined with arm-chair environmentalism which revolves around the hypothesis that ‘poverty’ is the biggest polluter: the marginalised sections of society living along the riverbanks are seen as a reason for the river’s dismal state. Seen as a hindrance to ‘developmental’ and ‘world-class’ achievements, removal of squatter and slum settlements became necessary to pursue the ‘Riverfront for Everyone’ slogan. Mathur (2012) uses the terms ‘purposeful’ and ‘rightful’ with respect to evictions of the marginalised within the context of absentee translocal features of the project. The next subsection deals with the further destitution of the marginalised sections who had resided on the riverbanks for decades.

242  Prerna Yadav Socio-economic repercussions Riverbanks have been the site of human settlements since the dawn of civilisation. Most of the present urban agglomerations globally have grown on the banks of rivers. As they grew in size and population density, the drive to gentrify these cities became central to city planning. This resulted in an urban settlement profile wherein the elite occupies lands with better infrastructure and high real estate value, the middle class at edges of these posh areas, while the lower and marginalised sections occupy either urban peripheries or central locations, with absent or dismal basic amenities, from which they can more easily offer their labour to cater to the needs of the upper echelon of society. With limited land resources, development follows two paths, one that pushes the peripheral settlements outwards and the other that involves eviction from these central locations. Following this, the urban infrastructure projects (UIPs) are structured along two margins: they are either shifted to the urban peripheries with an assurance of sufficient space allotment; or they are structured around the marginalised areas made available by forced eviction. While the former is feasible for housing and commercial buildings, it is not for projects such as roads. Riverfront development projects fall in the latter kind, being location specific. This was facilitated by the categorisation of riverbank floodplains as a wasteland in the past, with low infrastructural development occupied by marginalised sections of the society with squatter and slum settlements. This labelling as ‘slums’ justifies evictions and makes them legal. The ‘world-class cities’ concept focused on transforming these ‘eyesores’ on the riverbanks into state-of-the-art places, as Mahadevia (2006) discusses in her work, pushes this section further into destitution. Desai's (2006) work argues for the neoliberal economic policy that pushes forth these real estate UIPs as the harbinger of local urban economy rejuvenation. Desai (2012) in her work contextualises the riverfront development and consequent resettlement and rehabilitation within the changed economic and ideological perspective post-1990s which created a conducive atmosphere for such an infrastructure project. Before delving into the consequences, I quote Mathur (2012), who calls the state increasingly totalitarian and modernist revolving around the neoliberal ideology, while Mahadevia’s (2011) work brings forth several key attributes common in the present urban development process. These revolve around the elitist vision of cities; irreconcilable agenda of infrastructure development and poverty alleviation creating a situation of deliberate policy confusion; brutal and forceful evictions, absence of policies dealing with rehabilitation and resettlement of project-affected people; a predatory state wherein a transition is visible in the perspective on the weaker section being fellow citizens in a welfare state opposite to undeserving beneficiaries. Mahadevia (2002) puts it as the strong acuity in the affluent section of the society that the benefits of their labour and hard-earned money are enjoyed by the marginalised when they pay taxes, while the lower section bemoans

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  243 its exclusion from the benefits of these ‘development projects’, and the hefty costs paid make them resent the state and its transition from welfare to neoliberal state. The improvements for the bottom half, particularly the slum dwellers, are slow to come by because of lack of tenure security and settlements out of municipal jurisdiction (Mahadevia 2002). This could be due to the lack of bargaining power these sections have, which allows the state to do as it wishes. In this context, Patel et al. (2015) argue for the prioritised ‘green’, ‘clean’, ‘beautiful’ vision of the city over the housing of the poor which results in slum demolitions. This could be possible with the repeal of the Urban Land (Ceiling and Regulations) Act, 1976 by Urban Land (Ceiling and Regulations Repeal) Act 2007, which removed the limit on the acquisition of vacant land (including illegally occupied land) in urban centres. Enforced under the welfare state and removed under the neoliberal state, though cited as a pre-requisite for working of Jawaharlal Nehru National Urban Renewal Mission (JNNURM), it is a reflection of changing policy paradigms. Most of the projects under this have resulted in large land reclamation drives, with wholesale clearing of green patches, to maximise real estate benefits (Mahadevia 2006). The pursuit of infrastructure development has been single-minded, followed by unacknowledged displacements and destitution (Mathur 2012). Desai (2014) in her work points out the absence or very poor consideration of the marginalised, viewed as either beneficiaries or objects of change rather than stakeholders. Placed at the mercy of officials, urban local governments, and legal and architectural experts, with minimal bargaining power, they are pushed further into destitution with forceful evictions and no compensations, with the link between their livelihood and housing broke. SRDP must be viewed through this lens to comprehend the social disaster it had unleashed. SRDP is another one of these UIPs. The land acquisition was started along the riverbanks according to the 1998 master plan blueprint. Initially a self-financed project which would have recouped its costs from selling portions of reclaimed land to real estate, it shifted later to the state for its financing. The first reference to it emerged with the use of JNNURM funds for urban renewal from the center to Ahmedabad Municipal Corporation for funding SRDP’s rehabilitation and resettlement policy (Desai 2014). This resonates with the argument Mathur (2012) makes in his work when he argues that the 1998–1999 master plan was restructured to suit the interests of particular beneficiaries, without regard to social justice. With SRDP, Mahadevia (2011) puts the evictees’ number at more than 14,000 households. This was purposefully done in a fragmented and piecemeal manner. Desai (2014) cites this fragmented eviction and resettlement by AMC as a policy to limit community mobilisation and resistance, thus ensuring minimal judicial intervention. These evictees were resettled under the BSUP (part of the JNNURM) scheme, primarily on the fringes of the city, dumped there without the

244  Prerna Yadav availability of basic amenities such as drinking water and sanitation.1 The absence of Public Distribution System (PDS) shops in the vicinity of these sites reinforced destitution, as most of these families depended on these shops for their staples. This was the antithesis to the ‘Our Inclusive Ahmedabad’ ideology (Mahadevia et al. 2014). Insight into these suffering could be drawn from the works of Desai (2014), Mathur (2012) and Patel et al. (2015). Public services at the settlement sites were obligatory, such as primary health care centres, primary education centres, parks and open spaces, and community centres, but there were no public hospitals for displaced people, even though this had been part of the detailed Project Report Appraisal checklist (Desai 2014). Absence of sanitation, clean drinking water and waste management facilities resulted in health risks, poor hygiene and increased proliferation of diseases such as dysentery, typhoid and hepatitis. Food insecurity exacerbated the ordeals, as the absence of ration shops, identity cards of Below Poverty Line or their linking to the local PDS system hindered access to subsidised food. The gap between policy and implementation could be assessed by the presence of buildings for these facilities at some R&R sites but their defunct conditions due to poor maintenance. Moreover, if working, they are highly insufficient for the population load concerned. The slums had provisions for elderly people, handicapped people, expecting mothers, infants and children, and chronically ill patients, allowing them to live relatively independently. But the resettlement sites lacked any of these provisions, making them dependent and perceived as a liability (Mathur 2012; Patel et al. 2015). The mounting social injustice had forced the evictees and few social activists to reach out to the judiciary for respite. In the form of a PIL filed with the help of well-known human rights' activist and lawyer Girish Patel by few concerned citizens, the help of the judiciary was sought (Mahadevia et al. 2014). Initially, Gujarat High Court inquired into the rehabilitation and resettlement policy of the project but then refused a pragmatic view when AMC submitted documents whose claim fell short of the actual conditions. Mathur (2012) has discussed this in particular reference to the Gujri Bazaar,2 a weekly market held on the riverbanks. It is representative of the disregard for the socio-economic fabric of the marginalised. Without any prior official notification regarding SRDP, the market was forcefully dismantled on one of its working days. The magnitude of the market could be estimated from its footfall, which numbered in thousands, and people from across the state of Rajasthan also visited it. Thus, it was critical for the sustenance of numerous livelihoods. The market association’s president, Nafisbhai denied any sort of official intimation and only came across splintered information about SRDP through newspaper articles or other media. The Gujri association after seeking redressal from AMC turned to the court. After Gujarat high court's intervention, a Memorandum of Understanding was signed between AMC and Gujri association, which Mathur (2012) called a fait accompli. This exclusion was against the ‘inclusive’ ideology behind urban development.

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  245 This helps us to understand that when it comes to the interest of the marginalised sections of society, they are seldom attributed their due. Whether it is their social fabric or their livelihood and housing, the costs are high and could do away with years of their hard work. The next section is an economic appraisement of the project. This will help us to understand why a project that had such huge environmental and social costs has won accolades and is set to be the poster child for other riverfronts in the country’s major urban cities. Economic appraisal Gujarat has been a capitalism-oriented state post-globalisation. The strong export-oriented policy aimed to attract maximum foreign direct investment resulted in high development rates in the industrial sector. This was facilitated by relaxed regulations and relatively unorganised, low-wage labour force, a result of liberalisation post-1991. As the city grew and its upper echelon strived for its inclusion as a global ‘world-class city’, urban infrastructure projects increasingly became focused around urban redevelopment and gentrification. Desai (2012) in her work has argued for interventions in the form of the modern state-of-the-art, flagship infrastructure projects marketed as bringing the Seine promenade to Ahmedabad or the Shanghai skyline to Mumbai. These projects revolved around massive land acquisitions. Mahadevia (2011) in her work discusses these projects for serving particular interests. Land scams and land grabs by powerful politicians, bureaucrats and business conglomerates have been done within policy loopholes and a diligent promotion of the infrastructure rhetoric and ‘world-class city’ paradigm. The work has argued that even in the absence of any kind of scams, urban lands have become speculative entities for amassing wealth. The land is one of the most limiting natural resources. It has formed the very basis of human civilisation, livelihoods, commerce and social networks. Its misuse has resulted in impoverishment and destitution. It is critical in defining work opportunities, social networks, education, health services and basic amenities. Slum evictions are reflective of real estate and state turning to land earlier marginalised by categorising it as ‘wasteland’ or ‘land with low economic returns’. As the land resource becomes limited in urban agglomerations, slum demolition becomes a viable option. This is possible only where the bargaining power of the residents is weak. States have increasingly used the immunity from accountability accorded by the constitution to fulfil the state’s directive policies for developers to turn either a blind eye to these evictions or facilitate it. SRDP was proposed by EPC for SRFDCL. It covered a river stretch of 9 km with a proposed 162 hectares of land to be claimed along the riverbanks to create green spaces, housing and commercial real estate projects, and roads (Desai 2014). Desai’s (2006) work traces the marketing of the project since its inception. When marketed as self-financed, it was proposed

246  Prerna Yadav that the reclaimed land would be developed as prime property for real estate earning approximately $300 million – a whopping ₹21 billion. This was just 21 per cent of the reclaimed land which was to be commercialised. The 2005 brochure was markedly different from the 1998 one. The river stretch to be developed increased from 9 km to 20 km, i.e. approximately the length of the river that covers the city. The increased reclaimed area was exclusively labelled for gated communities, leisure or office purposes for the affluent. This is in contrast to its earlier use which catered to the livelihood activities and housing for the marginalised section of the society. Mathur (2012) remarks that the use of riverbanks for informal markets such as the Gujri market, dhobi ghats, waste removal and playground for children living on banks was not ‘proper riverfront use’ according to the project enthusiasts. With the changes in the funding of the project, JNNURM was used to fund rehabilitation and resettlement under the Basic Services to Urban Poor (BSUP) section. Despite the infusion of extra funds, the administrative performance was dismal in ensuring that the evictees had assured resettlement units. Mahadevia (2006) in her work cites the absence of inclusion of these stakeholders in the rehabilitation and resettlement policy as the reason for its poor implementation. Not only housing but eviction cost the riverbank dwellers their livelihoods. In the 1998 master plan’s blueprint, due consideration had been given to the close nexus of livelihood and residence. Moreover, it condemned the forced displacement of the urban poor. According to this, three sites were earmarked within a distance of 3 km of the displaced location to settlements (Mathur 2012). This would have ensured that the intricate relationship between housing and livelihood would not be broken, along with the availability and accessibility of basic amenities, education, hospital and PDS shop facilities. This, however, failed to materialise. Desai (2012) discusses how the implementation of an unstructured rehabilitation and resettlement policy resulted in greater impoverishment, as the sites for resettlement were several kilometers away from the displaced place. Mahadevia (2014) articulates it as a direct violation of the ‘convergence of health, education, social security schemes for the urban poor’ of State Welfare and BSUP schemes. The forced evictions had resulted in temporary or sustained employment loss, aggravated by the distance and cost of travel to the workplace. This is reflective of the argument made earlier, that the marginalised section of society that has been able to better itself under the aegis of the welfare state has increasingly been pushed into destitution under the transforming neoliberal state. Rather than ‘inclusive’, the current development paradigm revolves around the ideology of ‘exclusivity’. On another note, in a city like Ahmedabad, which had been long divided along communal lines, a project such as SRDP, which involved such massive forced evictions, religion-based division ensued. This should be understood within the context of the 2002 communal riots. The communal

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  247 riots and the genocide that it entailed led to huge losses to the industrial sector. A report by the Gujarat Chamber of Commerce and Industry calculated it to be around 109 billion Indian rupees. To whitewash its image and limit any further losses, the Gujarat government aggressively campaigned with the print media to filter its image and held a trade fair for the industry, called a ‘Vibrant Gujarat Summit’, on 1 September 2003. Desai (2006) argues that this helped raise huge investments for SRDP. The summit along with the Annual Property Show in Ahmedabad was used as platforms to sell reclaimed land to the highest bidder for commercial options such as river cruises, floating restaurants, golf courses, elite riverfront sports facilities, water-sport parks and luxury apartments with scenic views of the Sabarmati. The cost of this reclaimed land had been out of reach of the middle class as well; only the affluent could afford a beautiful view from their luxurious apartments, or office spaces, or recreational units. AMC claims SRDP as the instigator of economic growth and positive changes in the urban landscape of Ahmedabad. The problem with this is the absence of any balance sheets that address the extreme deprivation it has caused to certain sections of the society. What had followed in the wake of the materialisation of the riverfront project was a package of social, economic and psychological marginalisation portrayed through the loss of human capital and abound insecurities of vulnerability and uncertainty to the poor. Forced evictions, the state acting as a co-conspirator when it should be a protector, destruction of their livelihood and the life they had struggled to build after years of hard work pushed them further into destitution. The psychological marginalisation with their sufferings as well as uncertainties for their future contributed to the ultimate downward spiral. The failures in resettlement and rehabilitation could be attributed to the top-down command-and-control administrative functioning wherein key stakeholders were absent in the formulation of these plans. With the project being an abject materialisation of a ‘totalitarian modernist planned ­project’ (Mathur 2012), communication between the decision-makers and project-affected people was dysfunctional, with the absence of public appraisals and socio-economic assessments (SEA). Such was the curious case of SRDP, which had been essentially marketed to the people as an ­environment-centred initiative that would clean and restore the river to its ‘glory’ had lacked any formal environmental impact assessment (EIA) study. If it was actually done, it was never made accessible in the public domain. The ‘all-inclusive and pragmatic’ outline of the 1998 master plan had materialised into an ‘all-exclusive' gentrification project wherein the beautification of the riverfront was a cost paid by a certain section. Human settlements have woven themselves around their rivers, which have been critical to their sustenance, whether economically, socially or ecologically. This has changed as greed and utilitarian principles have increasingly defined extraction from nature. The river is treated as another form of

248  Prerna Yadav land resource which is a unit that disconnects human and ecological space from the socio-economic fabric. The commodification of rivers facilitated by crony capitalism and predatory state unfolded chaos for the marginalised section of society. The environmental costs had been huge, primarily the conversion from a flowing unbound river into a stagnating ‘picturesque’ concreted entity. Do we call it a river anymore, when the basic attribute of free flow and freshwater is missing from it? Irrespective of the costs that were paid by environment and sections of society, SRDP had won awards such as ‘one of the 100 most innovative projects’ by a world-renowned architectural advisory firm (KPMG), winning the National Award for Innovative Infrastructure development. This instigated a chain reaction for riverfront projects around the country. The problem occurred with the use of the same standard skeleton to be superimposed on yet another riverfront. SRDP had been framed around the Seine riverfront of Paris with no consideration given to differences between the Sabarmati and Seine rivers and corresponding social fabrics they define. The superimposition of the SRDP skeleton is proposed along the same lines. The next section looks into the Gomti Riverfront Development Project (GRDP), which developed along with the same architectural and administrative framework but had differential consequences. While the environmental costs had been higher, the social costs were lower owed to the absence of squatter settlements along the banks. Gomti Riverfront Development Project The GRDP master plan had the same blueprint as SRDP with sand dredging from edges and bottom of the river; construction of retaining walls along with concrete embankments and walkways; landscaping of riverbanks with exotic and native ornamental plants; and construction of gazebos, promenades, riverfront restaurants, commercial space for street vendors, street cafes, cycling tracks and restaurants, along with water sports facilities. The difference from SRDP is the absence of availability of blueprints in the public domain. How the plan unfolded was different from SRDP, however. It included procurement of encroached riverbank land (mostly used for farming); ­confiscation of Gomti river floodplains; channelisation of the river for a 8.5-km urban stretch, and rerouting of the Sarda Canal water to the Gomti river (similar to the rerouting of the Narmada River water to the Sabarmati River). This section looks at the Gomti river and its urban agglomeration, ­Lucknow, to contextualise the riverfront development project and consequent environmental, social and economic costs incurred. A heavily reinforced diaphragm wall was built along the channelised river banks that deprived the Gomti of its natural catchment.

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  249 Gomti river and its urban agglomeration ‘Lucknow’ The Gomti River emerges from Gomat taal in the Pilibhit district of Uttar Pradesh and flows 940 km traversing the state to drain into the Ganga River at a place called Saidpur, with a catchment area of 30,437 km2. It has a sluggish flow during the dry season, but in the wet monsoon season, flow volume increases multiple-fold before its tributaries join. Approximately 12 miles from Gomat taal, the first tributary Gaihai joins, which increases the inflow, but it is the second tributary, Jhakanai, that makes the river perennial. Lucknow is one of the largest urban agglomerations on its riverbanks, and there are several other settlements: Lakhimpur, Sitapur, Sultanpur and Jaunpur. The river water is used for irrigation and drinking water purposes, and the river serves as a drain for more than forty-five major untreated wastewater and effluent discharge outlets. The tributaries have their wastewater and effluent inlets. This is important within the reference to river ‘beautification’ and ‘gentrification’ of the city. On one side, urban infrastructure projects are proposed which would place the city in the global paradigm of a ‘world-class city’, and on the other, the river which is foci of this project is treated as a drain, sapping life out of it. With urbanisation and population growth, the land use pattern has changed in the river’s catchment area. The average monsoon flow, water quality and flow volume have seen a steady decline while the encroachment of flood plains and riverbanks has increased. The Gomti River had frequent floods in the past, not necessarily on a scale that would cause monetary losses. The last time it flooded was decades back, in 1960. Since then neither has it flooded nor reached the danger mark, primarily owed to declining flow volume and increased allocations of available flow volume. The reason Lucknow became the urban agglomeration wherein GRDP was proposed and eventually materialised could be its importance as the governing seat for India’s most populous state, as well as its history. The river is the city’s chief geographical feature. Initially the settlements started on one riverbank and later grew on both the banks through centuries. The meandering river pervasively divides the urban agglomeration into CisGomti and Trans-Gomti regions. The city has emerged as the biggest polluter of the river. Apart from its use as an outlet for twenty-six big drains and several smaller ones, the meandering river stretch of 12 km within the city has reduced flow volume. This is also owed to the uplifting of approximately 200 million litres per day (MLD) water for drinking water supply to the city at the Gaughat pumping station as the river enters Lucknow at Balaghat. This had prompted the government to launch projects such as Clean Gomti, Gomti Riverfront Development Project and Gomti Action Plan within the Ganga Action Plan to clean, revitalise and rejuvenate the river. Most of these projects are still in progress, with the Gomti Action Plan (GAP) divided into phases for funding issues and work completed. But GRDP has been stopped midway with the change in political power citing the reason for being economically unviable and fraught with corruption.

250  Prerna Yadav It should be noted here that in the case of SRDP, the project was underway when a change in political power took place post-election. The next section looks at both the GAP and GRDP to help understand the efforts that have been to ‘restore’ and ‘revitalise’ the river. The Gomti Action Plan and GRDP The GAP had been a part of the larger initiative called the Ganga Action Plan, introduced to clean one of the most important rivers of the country, the Ganga. Gomti, being one of its tributaries, became part of this larger project. The river has been used as a dumping site for the city’s sewage, wastewater and industrial effluent. The century-old sewer system has become defunct despite the emergency repairs costing ₹68.1 million spent from 1994 to 1998 and then additionally in 2002. This could be owed to the population boom and the uneven periodic repair. The sewer system of the city was introduced in the 1920s by British colonisers to provide proper sanitation facilities for better health conditions and preventions from infectious diseases. It was installed primarily in the areas where the colonial regime representatives resided. In terms of its working pre-independence, the sewage was collected through a system of branched and trunk sewers and pumped through the city to its periphery to the ‘sewage farm’ (a 600-acre plot). As the load increased, it became insufficient to handle the huge load, as neither the extension of the system nor its repair was given due importance. Moreover, as the city grew, the massive land resource utilised as a sewage farm was converted into posh housing entities, such as Gomti Nagar, and commercial space. In the action plan, one of the most important features involved the construction of STPs. Phased in in two parts with an estimated cost of ₹1.315 billion, the initial amount approved was ₹610.1 million, proposed in partnership with the Department for International Development (DFID), UK, for technological support. STP construction and sewer restoration work started in March 1999 with emergency works such as CCTV survey of sewers, cleaning drive for major drains and Cis-Gomti Sewage Pumping Station (CGSPS) construction that cost approximately ₹68.1 million. Concurrently with this, a shift in DFID’s focus area from infrastructure development to poverty eradication led to the withdrawal of technological assistance. This resulted in unrequited stay on the funding of the project and its division into GAP Phase-I and Phase-II. After the initial amount of ₹68.1 million was spent in phase I, it was allocated a sum of additional ₹434.8 million. Phase-II fund was proposed to be ₹2.8 billion, with a 70:30 ratio to be spent by the state and the centre respectively, approved in March 2003. The problem with such an expensive project is the absence of any public appraisals or impact assessments to evaluate them via a cost-benefit analysis report. It has been a couple of decades since the inception of these projects, but the results fall by a great margin.

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  251 Inclusive of this is the multiple numbers of STPs set up under JNNURM and GAP phase I which function below their maximum potential or have those several possible faults that skip the vital treatment steps. This results in the discharge from the plants falling short of the Water Quality Index (WQI) standards set in the guidelines. Mostly, the ‘treated’ discharge ends up being in the river, which becomes a sink to this anthropogenic disaster. Both the untreated sullage or the partially treated water that meets the WQI standards on paper are discharged in the river with blatant disregard to the riverine and environmental health. One very basic problem with most of the projects that aim to clean rivers is the absence of due consideration to the reduced flow volume in these rivers. This not only increases the concentration of the pollution load but also results in the loss of numerous ecosystem services. Similarly, visualising this in the context of the Gomti River is imperative, as the environmental costs owed to encroachment on its recharge points and its decreased flow have decreased the benefits accrued from such projects. Aquifer recharge for the river Gomti According to the Imperial Gazetteer of India (vol. 12), there are around 13,037 recharge points for the river in Lucknow as ponds, wells, marshes, and small tributaries though the present existing number could be different. Despite the Lucknow High Court (HC) orders, little had been done to save them. For Instance, in the Pilibhit district through which the river flows in the upper catchments before entering Lucknow, the riverbanks, recharging ponds, catchment area and even the riverbed have been encroached for farming and building houses by local people. According to one official report, 532 ponds and tributaries have been encroached by real estate mafias. The state has failed to protect any of these. This hindered recharge has resulted in an approximately 60 per cent drop in the river’s flow volume (Dutta et al. 2018). This is owed to the encroachments on the river as well as on its twenty-two tributaries, which have resulted in the decreased inflow. Apart from these, the recharge from the monsoon months of July through September forms a major portion of the inflow quantum along with the groundwater base flow. In this reference, it is important to note the construction activities part of the GRDP, which have further aggravated the situation. The diaphragm walls which are 16 m high with 5 m above and 11 m below the surface of the river on either side of the riverbanks limit the recharging of aquifers from the river on one hand, while on the other hand reducing the base flow from these aquifers into the river (Dutta 2018). Moreover, trunk drains were to be constructed parallel to the river, in phase I upstream to the Shahid Path and in phase II from the Shahid Path to the Gomti Aqueduct as part of the Clean Gomti Initiative to stop the monsoon runoff from the city. The plan was supposed to collect it, transport it to a treatment plan, and then discharge it in the river. It was a common

252  Prerna Yadav clause for both GRDP and GAP with the responsibility given to the city’s Jal Nigam. The problem with this is the engineering lens used to look at the monsoon runoff. Runoff runs through the catchment areas eroding and dissolving minerals which, when drained into a water body, play a critical role in defining its inherent physio-chemical properties. The rationale behind the ‘clean run-off’ lacks scientific knowledge. The inflow of only treated water would turn it into a treated water reservoir rather than a river whose exclusivity is defined by its flora, fauna and ecology. This is a complete disregard for the river’s ecosystem by first drying or emptying it and then cleaning and refilling it with treated water. This has partly materialised in the completed portion of the riverfront. The stretch of GRDP that is officially completed is a stagnated water reservoir whose upstream inflow has been physically blocked with barricades. An observation from an earthen dam over the Gomti (Kudia Ghat, ­Lucknow) helps to understand the ecological disaster that has unfolded. Beds of aquatic weed, water hyacinth, cover the barricades’ upstream surface for meters, while downstream is cluttered with plastic bottles and wrapping floating on its surface and debris on the still uncompleted pavement. Downstream, at the Harding Bridge, the condition is tenable with minimal flow speed and aquatic life, which helps naturally control the stench within a tolerable limit. Here the river is used for activities such as dhobi-ghats, and bathing spaces. The downstream of the Harding Bridge is upstream of the earthen dam where the barricades stop the flow further. The greenish-black color of the river and the stench of decay emanating from it are an unsightly treat with a concrete background. The whole paradigm of river rejuvenation and ‘giving back to nature’ acclamation of the politicians in the beautified riverfront park is against the footholds of ecological restoration (Dutta 2018). Jacketing the river within the concrete embankments also makes available areas for land development on what used to be the floodplains, occupied by the river. The river was narrowed to as little as 125 m at several stretches, to enable land reclamation and riverfront development. In terms of the restriction on the sewage and wastewater drain outlets in the river, the official documents categorising the status of the intercepting drain on either riverbank to collect runoff as working are contrary to the situation on the ground. Opposite the Kukrail sewage pumping station is a cremation ground named Bhainsa Kund from where the view of the river shows the surface of the river covered with white froth and bubbly mass that separates from the water surface and floats as the wind picks up speed. A visit to the Kukrail sewage station is interesting, to say the least. Though the Kukrail drain falls directly into the river, a portion of its water flows through the pumping station (maybe due to leakages) through heaps of piled sludge and garbage without any inception or treatment. This stretch of the river is one sad and static dark stain, testimony to the bad engineering it has had to suffer. Thus, the efforts to clean, restore or beautify the river have been done away with. It has more or less resulted in the unfolding of a bigger disaster,

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  253 with the condition of the river deteriorating further. These UDPs marketed as ‘eco-friendly’ and ‘restoration of nature’ have been formulated without any public appraisals or environmental impact assessment studies or socio-economic assessment studies. Consideration could be made about the existence of the report of these studies or them being done, but the absence of these in the public domain is problematic. In these riverfront development projects, the effort has been made to convert the dynamic nature of unbound rivers into a static, human-controlled attribute. The commodification of the river has been successful in bounding its dynamic free-flowing nature. The next section delves into the socio-economic impacts of the GRDP, which shows a marked difference from that of SRDP. Social repercussions The Gomti River enters the city at Gaughat and meanders for 18 km through the city. Tracing the human settlements and activities carried out on its riverbanks, the right bank is occupied by the Shaheed Smarak Park, then ­Chattar Manzil, which is one of the most beautiful buildings in the city, a few ghats followed by a palace named Moti Mahal, and then a vacant stretch leading to the Bhainsa Kund cremation grounds. On the left bank, there are a few ashrams followed by Darul Ulum, which is an Islamic university, then the Lucknow University campus area, followed by a long stretch once occupied by Dhobi ghats until the Kukrail drain merges into the river. The riverfront development took place in the downstream region where the newly affluent have settled, such as the Gomti Nagar, leaving the upstream stretch relatively untouched and primarily occupied by the lower section of society. Thus, displacement was minimal and the small number of people displaced was duly compensated, though the fisherman community had been against it because of the negative effect on their livelihood. With minimal social costs, the economic appraisal of the project would help us understand that a project proposed to clean and restore the river has ended up with huge costs to the environment and the state exchequer. Economic appraisal GRDP was a flagship project of the state government, which was proposed by Lucknow Development Authority (LDA) but materialised under the Irrigation Department due to legal constraints. The State Environment Directorate, Municipal Cooperation and LDA played a major role in project materialisation. The project started in January 2015 with an initial proposed expenditure of ₹6.56 billion, almost tripled within a year . In the official entries, the funding of the project increased due to cost escalation and extension of concrete walls on the both sides of the river. This could be ascertained from the following: the initial funding had been ₹6.56 billion which increased to ₹11 billion after six months and ₹15 billion at the end

254  Prerna Yadav of the financial year. The state exchequer granted a fund of ₹15.13 billion for it, out of which by 2018 ₹14.35 billion were spent with the project being still incomplete. The project proponent demanded additional funding of ₹9.48 billion to complete it. So, a project that would have helped in the beautification and gentrification of the river, riverbanks and the city would cost ₹24.48 billion to the state exchequer. This is the taxpayers’ money which has gone into an infrastructure project when it could have been used for several other purposes such as education, basic amenities, etc. Water flowing into the river is still polluted, with no improvements in water quality. The plan to set up more sewage treatment plants and interceptor drains is stuck (UPPCB 2018). The JNNURM, GAP and GRDP funds had been used. To satisfy the criteria so that JNNURM funds could be used, they were directed towards the development of urban infrastructure, water supply, sewage and drainage systems, solid waste management, as well as slaughterhouse discharge treatment plant, roads and low-cost sanitation services. A part of the project cost was supposed to be self-financed. For instance, the sludge removed from the river was to be auctioned off. Due to lack of official records for the sludge removal, its sale draws a blank, as costs shoot up because of administrative failure. Part of the ‘inclusive growth’ paradigm, these urban infrastructure projects have been economic gain–centric, riddled with scams and poor project analysis reports. If indeed completed, these reports are not available in the public domain. And the ‘inclusive’ growth has necessarily turned into ‘exclusive’ for a certain section of society who wants their city to be among the ‘world-class city’ global precept.

Sabarmati and Gomti rivers: drawing the differences SRDP in Ahmedabad, materialised as a mega-urban project with worldclass features, was a municipal government (AMC) project that essentially lacked a public–private partnership (PPP) feature. GRDP materialisation followed a similar path under the irrigation department in Lucknow. Apart from the differences between the two urban agglomerations in social and economic terms, the rivers which form their lifeline are two very different entities. It would help us to delve into these basic differences to better understand the argument made earlier regarding the unique identity of each river. The exclusivity of each river is its whole ecology along with the settlements that have evolved on its riverbanks. In the case of the Sabarmati and Gomti rivers, the former is a seasonal river, though was once perennial before inflow decreased because of dams, while the latter is a perennial river. The Sabarmati flows in the south-westerly direction for a length of 371 km with a catchment area of 2,174 km2, and the Gomti flows in the south-easterly direction for a length of 940 km with a catchment area of 30,347 km2. While the Sabarmati flows in a steppe climatic zone with arid and semi-arid conditions, the Gomti flows

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  255 in subtropical humid climatic conditions. These physical and geographical differences between the two rivers stipulate infinite morphological and biological variations in attributes they acquire flowing through their respective catchment area. With the changes in river morphology involved in a riverfront development project, the river ends up being a canal for that ‘beautified’ and developed stretch (Dutta et al. 2018). Apart from the transfer of water in the developed stretch to maintain a desirable water level (SRDP receives from the the Narmada river and GRDP receives from the Sharda river), the uniqueness of the river is tampered with by straightening and concreting the riverbanks. It could be called ‘pinching the river’, as Sabarmati’s average width of 382 m in Ahmedabad is reduced to 275 m from its narrowest cross-section of 330 m in the city. For Gomti, the river floodplain was pinched to 240 m from 450 m, with a waterway being pinched from 250 m to 100–125 m. Also, the artificial maintenance of a constant flow volume disrupts the ecological cycle and the riverine fauna and flora. The reclaimed land under each project, quoted as ‘wasteland’ or land under improper usage, had played an important role in the ecology of the river and its floodplains.

Conclusion Rivers provided indispensable space for human settlements and civilisations to flourish. Earlier when the economy of human settlements directly depended on them, they had not been tampered with. As a shift in economies occurred, the outlook on common-pool natural resources changed. Around these changing paradigms, the concept of environmentalism emerged, owing to the prominence of huge costs nature has paid for developmental activities. The elites have used the concept of ‘environmentalism’ and restoration of nature to push forth projects that resulted in deprivation to marginalised sections of the society. The riverfront development projects have not only blocked the exchange of water between rivers and land but also reduced their self-cleaning ability to swill down the city’s waste. These projects have severely changed river’s hydrological regimes leading to loss of critical river processes and the adjoining ecosystems. Riverfront projects are among such developments that, while veiled as ‘river restoration’, have converted dynamic rivers into human-controlled static entities. Aimed at the gentrification of cities to match the global standards, they further deepened the inequalities and pushed the marginalised city residents into destitution. The rationale behind this study has been to understand the working of an urban infrastructure project which had been marketed as river restoration and giving back to nature. After the accolades won by SRDP and its poster child GRDP, there are several other riverfront projects which have been brought into the pipeline. A few of these projects include: the Yamuna RDP which was proposed on the Yamuna River stretch when it passes through

256  Prerna Yadav Delhi (it was shelved for a while, but in April 2017 the Delhi Development Authority put forth plans to start it again); the Brahmaputra RDP, proposed as a joint project by the Assam Infrastructure Financing Authority and the Guwahati Metropolitan Development Authority, is centred on concreting the riverbanks and maximum possible reclamation when the Brahmaputra River has the highest sediment load and flow volume in the world; the Mithi RDP in Mumbai, proposed as a joint project under the Municipal Cooperation of Greater Mumbai and Mumbai Metropolitan Regional Development Authority, which would develop the 18-km stretch passing through the city. There are many others, developed along the same lines as SRDP with complete disregard to the river and its exclusivity. These are environmental disasters that are waiting to happen. It needs to be taken into consideration as well that with climate change, there is increasing variability in the precipitation volume and its time. Rivers that do not have a glacial source are dependent on the monsoon for their inflow, and hence their dry and full flow volume periods have evolved along the monsoon months in India. Moreover, even for rivers which have a glacial origin, the increasing average global temperature have resulted in the melting of glaciers at an unprecedented rate, leading to fluctuating inflows. Within this context, the riverfront development projects could only aggravate the situation rather than help our rivers. As is evident from the Sabarmati Riverfront Development and the Gomti Riverfront Development, the environmental, social and economic consequences will always be unique for every river. The use of a standard architectural guideline is much appreciated, as it would set benchmarks for several attributes of RDPs, but ecological integrity should be used as the main guiding framework that should be enriched by the studies conducted. These studies must include comprehensive EIAs, SEIAs and should be made a prerequisite for any of these UIPs. The heavily reinforced channeling has also affected the meandering character of the river with loss of river habitat thriving on sandbars and banks, all of which used to host a wide variety of wild animals and plants. The interceptor drains which are designed on both sides of the river to prevent sewage from entering into the river provide no respite on pollution levels. The chapter has outlined various unpleasant social and ecological impacts associated with such projects as several deprived communities occupying near the river space or earning a livelihood through various activities are displaced to favor real estate development.

Notes 1 JNNURM is a national urban renewal mission focused on major urban infrastructure projects funded by the central government. These projects have resulted in large land reclamation drives which also involve unbiased clearing of urban green patches, once the ‘lungs’ of these urban areas, to maximise real estate benefits. The preamble of JNNURM defines urban centres as engines of economic growth. JNNURM after its launch in 2005 had two submissions:

Urban rivers and their riverfronts  257 • Urban Infrastructure & Governance (UIG), administered by the Ministry of

Urban Development (MUD) • The Basic Services to Urban Poor (BSUP), administered by the (Ministry of Urban Employment and Poverty Alleviation (MUEPA).

BSUP resettlement projects are often implemented on city peripheries, distant from people’s workplaces, schools and hospitals, and thus don’t meet the ‘adequate shelter’ criteria. 2 The Gujri Market was a 600-year-old open market, established by Sultan Ahmed Shah in 1414, three years after he took over the reign of the city administration. It consisted of 1,200 members, approximately 400 of them women vendors, and 200 vendors who paid fees for a temporary vending place at that time. The footfalls for the weekly Sunday market was around 200,000, frequented by locals, people from adjacent villages and towns and even from Rajasthan because of convenience, the margins in cost and the market’s well-interlinked location. The location of the Gujri Market had been the vacant land next to the riverbank slum settlements.

References Allan, J. D. 2004. ‘Landscapes and riverscapes: The influence of land use on stream ecosystems’. Annual Review of Ecology, Evolution, and Systematics, 35: 257–284. Amruta, P. 2014. ‘Riverfront Development in India: Cosmetic makeup on deep wounds’. SANDRP, 17 September. https://sandrp.in/2014/09/17/riverfrontdevelopment-in-india-cosmetic-make-up-on-deep-wounds/. Bryson, J. 2012. ‘Greening Urban Renewal: Expo’74, Urban Environmentalism and Green Space on the Spokane Riverfront, 1965–1974’. Journal of Urban History, 39(3): 495–512. Daenport, A. J., Gurnell, A. M., & Armitage, P. D. 2001. ‘Classifying urban rivers’. Water Science and Technology, 43(9): 147–155. Desai, R. 2006. Uneasy Negotiations: Urban Redevelopment, Neoliberalism, and Hindu Nationalist Politics in Ahmedabad, India. Breslauer Graduate Research Conference. UC Berkeley, Breslauer Symposium. April. Desai, R. 2012. ‘Governing the urban poor: riverfront development, slum resettlement, and the politics of inclusion in Ahmedabad’. Economic and Political Weekly, 47(2): 49–56. Desai, R. 2014. Municipal Politics, Court Sympathies and Housing Rights: A PostMortem of Displacement and Resettlement under the Sabarmati Riverfront Project, Ahmedabad. CUE Working Paper 23, Ahmedabad. Dutta, V. 2018. ‘The demise of rivers - the ecology of rivers is irreversibly damaged through riverfront projects in India’. State of India’s Environment 2018, Centre for Science and Environment, New Delhi, p. 68–71. Dutta, V., Sharma, U., Iqbal, K., Kumar, R., & Pathak, A. K. 2018. ‘Impact of river channelization and riverfront development on fluvial habitat: evidence from Gomti River, a tributary of Ganges, India’. Environmental Sustainability, 1(2): 167–184. Ghertner, D. A. 2014. ‘India’s urban revolution: geographies of displacement beyond gentrification’. Environment and Planning A, 46: 1554–1571. Kumar, R. N., Solanki, R., & Kumar, J. I. N. 2011. ‘An assessment of seasonal variation and water quality index of Sabarmati River and Kharicut Canal at

258  Prerna Yadav Ahmedabad, Gujarat’. Electronic Journal of Environment, Agricultural, and Food Chemistry, 10(5): 2248–2261. Kumar, R. N., Solanki, R., & Kumar, J. I. N. 2013. ‘Seasonal variations in heavy metal contamination in water and sediments of river Sabarmati and Kharicut canal at Ahmedabad, Gujarat’. Environmental Monitoring and Assessment, 185: 359–368. Mahadevia, D. 2002. ‘Communal space over life space: Saga of increasing vulnerability in Ahmedabad’. Economic and Political Weekly, 37(48): 4850–4858. Mahadevia, D. 2006. ‘NURM and the poor in globalizing mega cities’. Economic and Political Weekly, 41(31): 3399–3403. Mahadevia, D. 2011. ‘Branded and renewed? Policies, politics, and processes of urban development in the reform era’. Economic and Political Weekly, 46(31): 56–64. Mahadevia, D., Desai, R., & Vyas, S. 2014. City Profile: Ahmedabad. CUE Working Paper, Ahmedabad. Mathur, N. 2012. ‘On the Sabarmati riverfront: urban planning as totalitarian governance in Ahmedabad’. Economic and Political Weekly, 47(47–48): 64–75. Patel, S., Sliuzas, R., & Mathur, N. 2015. ‘The risk of impoverishment in urban development-induced displacement and resettlement in Ahmedabad’. Environment & Urbanization, 27(1): 231–256. Sharma, U. & Dutta, V. 2020. ‘Establishing environmental flows for intermittent tropical rivers: Why hydrological methods are not adequate?’,  International Journal of Environmental Science and Technology, 17: 2949–2966. UPPCB. 2018. Action Plan for Restoration of Polluted Stretch of River Gomti from Sitapur to Kaithi (District Ghazipur). Lucknow: UPPCB. http://www.uppcb.com/ pdf/RIVER-GOMTI.pdf, accessed 14 June 2020.

12 Conflict and resistance over water reallocation The case of Surya Irrigation Project in Maharashtra Simran Sumbre, Rahul Raja, Neha Bhadbhade and K. J. Joy Water caters to different needs of humankind as well as of other living things on earth. As important as it is to humans for different uses, it is equally important for sustaining the basic ecosystem functions. Water resources have come under tremendous stress, especially since the 1990s, with India witnessing unprecedented growth of small towns and metropolitan cities. Rapid urbanisation has led to increasing urban water demand, and this increasing demand is often met by sourcing water from distant rural hinterlands. Very often this has been at the expense of adivasi (tribal) communities that live in the proximity of the reservoirs that supply water to the cities. Over the last two decades, the increasing water demand from urban spaces has seen large diversions and (re)allocation of water from rural areas to the cities. These diversions have largely been from agricultural use to urban domestic use. The National Water Policy, 2012 (GoI 2012) and all state water policies give first priority to domestic water use, offering legitimacy to such (re)allocations. However, the water brought into the cities from rural areas is not just used for domestic purposes, but is also used for commercial and luxury uses like washing vehicles, watering lawns, private swimming pools and other recreational purposes. Also, the water use and access to water within the cities is highly inequitable (Agarwala and Agarwala 2014). So, while the per capita demand of the richer sections of the cities is increasing, the poorer sections in the cities do not have enough water for the most basic needs. Therefore, even in the case of domestic water, it is important to understand how it gets partitioned among various uses and users. As water is a common resource, when the same unit of water is demanded for different kinds of uses, it gives rise to competition and contestation very often leading to conflicts (Joy et al. 2008). This is very often called as an intersectoral water conflict and takes many different forms: consumptive uses vs. non-consumptive uses like ecosystem needs (e.g. wetlands, protected areas, etc.), domestic water use vs. agriculture, agriculture vs. industry, rural vs. urban and so forth.

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Maharashtra at the forefront of water reallocations The state of Maharashtra has clearly been in the lead among other Indian states when it comes to (re)allocation of water resources. The Maharashtra State Water Policy (MSWP), 2003 is pro-industry, and according to the prioritisation of water use (section 4 of the policy), water for industries is given a higher priority than water for agriculture1 (Joy et al. 2011). Following MSWP, the Maharashtra Water Regulatory Water Authority (MWRRA) Act was passed in 2005. The MWRRA was set up to regulate the state’s water resources and to ensure equitable and sustainable management, allocation and utilisation of water resources as well as to determine water tariff for different uses (GoM 2005a, 2005b). This Act was amended in 2011, and the mandate to allocate water for different uses was taken away from MWRRA and granted to the Cabinet of Ministers. As per the amendment, the decisions of water allocation and (re)allocation will remain outside the jurisdiction of MWRRA and there will be no public hearing on cases of (re) allocation (GoM 2018). In the original Act there was a provision for public hearing for water reallocations from one use to another (SOPPECOM 2012). A study done by Prayas (Resources and Livelihoods Group), Pune, showed that the High Power Committee2 reallocated 1983.43 Mm3 (Million Cubic Meter) of water from fifty-one dams to non-irrigation purposes between 2003 and 2010. This seems to have resulted in the reduction of irrigation potential by 323,296 ha. As high as 83 per cent of this reallocation took place between 2005 to 2009, after MWRRA came into existence (Prayas Resources and Livelihoods Group 2013). These diversions are now giving rise to more and more contestations and conflicts in the state. The metropolitan region of Mumbai is a classic example where large water diversions are taking place from the neighbouring rural hinterlands, especially the adivasi (tribal) regions located to the north of Mumbai. The per capita consumption of Mumbai, according to the Government of Maharashtra (GOM) report 2005, was 240 litres per day (lpcd) (GOM 2005). This is about 1.8 times the consumption norm of 135 lpcd recommended by Central Public Health and Environmental Engineering Organisation (CPHEEO) for urban cities (GoI 1999). The rapidly growing peri-urban regions around the periphery of this mega-city also have a growing thirst and are adding to water stress. At the core of this issue is the absence of clear-cut norms for equitable water allocation, poor institutional mechanisms and weak regulatory frameworks over the sharing of water between rural and urban areas. In the case of Mumbai city, ]Mumbai’s ability to secure water entitlement has been facilitated by an institutional legacy of prior appropriation that has been applied in a context of weak and limited tribal authority over land and resources’. (Punjabi and Johnson, 2018) There are five major dams to the north of Mumbai that provide water to Mumbai city, namely Tansa, Vaitarna, Bhatsa, Surya and Hetwane. Out of

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  261 the five dams, the issue of intersectoral water conflicts has arisen mainly from Bhatsa and Surya dams. In this chapter we explore the conflict around intersectoral water allocation and use especially reallocations of water from rural and agricultural use to urban domestic water use by examining the case of the Surya Multi-purpose Project. This dam was constructed to provide water for irrigation to Palghar and Dahanu talukas of the Palghar district. However, over the last two decades, the water from the dam has been diverted to meet the domestic water demands of the growing suburban regions of Mira-Bhayandar and Vasai-Virar. The chapter is based on primary research conducted in April–May 2018, secondary literature and the work of the Forum for Policy Dialogue on Water Conflicts in India3 (Water Conflict Forum, to be brief) for over a decade. The chapter is structured the following way. After this introductory section, we discuss the details of the Surya Irrigation Project. It also discusses the issue of water reallocation from the project. In the next section we bring out the key issues and insights from the field study, which are organised under physical condition of the canal network, piped vs open canal irrigation: perceptions of the communities, effects on livelihoods of the communities, issues of rehabilitation and compensation, water quality, perceptions of the state authorities and Surya dam protests. The next section analyses the various dimensions of this conflict and brings forth the point that this is not only a conflict of agriculture vs urban domestic water but also a conflict of domestic water needs of the rural (adivasis) vs domestic water needs of the urban. In the final section we provide some tentative ideas as a way forward to meaningfully engage with conflicts around water (re)allocations or intersectoral conflicts.

Surya Irrigation Project The Surya Multi-purpose Project (SMP) is constructed on the Surya River, a tributary of the Vaitarna River in the Palghar district, Maharashtra. The catchment area of the Surya Project receives an average of 2,000 mm of annual rainfall, most of which takes place during the monsoon period from June to October (Climate-Data.org, n.d.). The construction of the project was completed in 1990. The project was built as a major irrigation project with the aim to create 14,696 ha of irrigation potential in three talukas, namely Vikaramgad (30 ha), Dahanu (6,141  ha) and Palghar (8,275 ha). Additionally, the Surya dam is also used for generating 6.75 megawatt (MW) of electric power as per the daily installed capacity. The total live storage of the dam is 286.32 million cubic meters (MCM). The main reservoir of the SMP is located at Dhamni village in Vikramgad taluka. The water from the Dhamni reservoir is released into a pick-up weir at Kawadas located 8 km downstream of the dam. The live storage at 75 per cent dependability at the Dhamni reservoir and Kawadas pick-up weir is 276.35 MCM and 9.96 MCM, respectively (IndiaWRIS, 2011). The main irrigation canals – the left-bank and the right-bank

262  Simran Sumbre et al. canals – branch out from the Kawadas pick-up weir. The lengths of the left- and right-bank canals are 47 km and 28.5 km, respectively. However, the last stretch of the left-bank canal from 34 to 47 km has not been constructed until April–May 2018 (the time of the field work) because of the failure to obtain clearance from the forest department. Similarly, minors 16 to 18 on the left-bank canal and the distributary no. 4 on the right-bank canal are constructed disjointedly, as there are portions in between where the canal is not constructed (where the canal alignment is through the forest area) because of lack of approval from the forest department. Due to this, the total proposed irrigation potential of the project stands reduced at 11,586 ha. The irrigation rotations in the command area begin only in December. Figure 12.1 shows the location of the dam and command area. A majority of the population in the catchment area as well as the command area of the Surya project are adivasis (also called Scheduled Tribes – ST), mostly belonging to the Warli and Malhar Koli tribes, along with a few from the Kunbi and Agri communities. Farming is the primary occupation of the people, with some supplementary income coming from farming activities. The average landholding of the farmers in the command area is small to very small, at around 2 to 3 acres per family. However, irrespective of the size of the landholding, most of the land is put to agricultural use, specifically rain-fed paddy cultivation. Adivasi farmers in the region also hold ‘van pattis’, which are usufructuary rights allowing them to cultivate forest land without being given ownership of it. Though the average holding of forest land ranges from 3 to 4 acres, not all of it is usually cultivable owing to its undulating topography and being located along the hill slopes. Eighty-eight villages, out of the ninety-two in the command area, fall under the purview of the Maharashtra Tribal Sub Plan (TSP) – a programme created for the rapid socio-economic development of the adivasi population and also to ensure that the funds are allocated to the TSP areas in proportion to the ST population of each state. In the case of the Surya project, 89 per cent of the total project cost was drawn from the TSP. To ensure the development of the adivasi farmers in the command area, the project was also included in the Accelerated Irrigation Benefit Programme (AIBP) and the Command Area Development (CAD) Programme. The inclusion of the project in such development schemes indicates that it was envisioned for ensuring irrigation for the adivasi farmers of the region (Wagle et al. 2012). Issue of (re)allocation The reservation of water from the Surya Project for non-irrigation uses began in 1981–1982. The first reservation for non-irrigation use from the project was for Maharashtra Industrial Development Corporation (MIDC), Tarapur, in 1981. Since then, the water from the project has increasingly been reallocated for industrial and domestic purposes to the areas in and around Palghar.

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  263

Figure 12.1  Dam site and command area of the project. Source: Created in GIS by Neha Bhadbhade.  

264  Simran Sumbre et al. In 1989, the Vasai-Virar Municipal Corporation (VVMC) was allocated 19.8 MCM of water from the Surya Project to cater to the domestic water needs of the city. The following year, in 1990, another 16.7 MCM was allocated for the same purpose. This happened due to the fact that the canal network of the Surya project at that time was still under construction, and therefore the water meant for irrigation remained unutilised. Therefore, the Water Resources Department (WRD) and the VVMC came to an agreement of using this water until June 1996, at which time they would have to develop their own alternative source of water. In 1996, a group of activists led by Navnitlal Bhogilal Shah4 filed a writ petition at the Bombay High Court against state authorities, appealing the court to direct them to refrain from making any decision to divert water from the Surya Project to Vasai-Virar. However, the court maintained that the water diversion to urban areas for non-irrigation use was not permanent, and since the National Water Policy gives the first priority to drinking water and then to irrigation, the unutilised water in the reservoirs be temporarily allocated to Vasai-Virar, until an alternative source of water is developed by VVMC. Subsequently, however, the approval to withdraw water from the dam was extended from 1996 to 2007, and then further until 2010, as no arrangement was made by the VVMC for development of any alternative sources of water. As of May 2017, out of the 286.31 MCM of water in the Surya project, 226.93 MCM has been reserved for non-irrigation use. It means that as much as 79.26 per cent of the water of the Surya project has been earmarked for non-irrigation purposes. Due to this increasing trend of reallocation, the share of water for irrigation has been significantly reduced. The water needed for irrigation from the Surya Project is 196.73 MCM. However, after the reallocations for domestic and industrial uses, the water available for irrigation is only 93.91 MCM. These reallocations have created a deficit of 102.82 MCM of water for irrigation. Since 93.91 MCM of water is not sufficient to irrigate the entire 14,696 ha of the command area, the WRD has proposed to reduce the command area of the project. According to a review of water planning by the WRD dated 8 May 2017, the available 93.91 MCM of water can irrigate only 7,015 ha of land in the command area. This has been provided as the rationale for the WRD’s decision to almost halve the command area. From the reservations made for non-irrigation use, 0.25 MCM of water has been allocated to the villages of Chahade and Nagave for drinking purposes. Similarly, 0.1368 MCM has been reserved for Dabhon village. However, currently, none of these villages are utilising their allocated share. Close to 110 (109.83) MCM of water supply has been approved for Mumbai Metropolitan Regional Development Authority (MMRDA) and 36.5 MCM has been allocated for Mira-Bhayandar Municipal Corporation. Again, both MMRDA and Mira-Bhayandar Municipal are yet to utilise the share of water allocated to them. Therefore, in spite of these allocations, 97.956 MCM of water currently remains unutilised in the reservoir. However, as per the WRD, the process of lifting this water has already begun and in the next two or

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  265 Table 12.1  Allocations of water from the Surya project for various uses Allocations of Water As per original project design, water allocation for non-irrigation purposes Approved urban domestic (in 1989) and industrial water use (in 1981–1982) Additional water allocation after fifth administrative approval (in 1996) Total water allocated for non-irrigation use for a period of 12 months Water that should be allocated for non-irrigation purpose for a period of 8 monthsa Current non-irrigation water useb Actual water that should be used for non-irrigation for a period of 8 months Additional water used currently for non-irrigation purpose Water required for irrigation Water available in the reservoir for utilisation Water available for irrigation after reallocations for non-irrigation purposes Water deficit for irrigation after reallocation

Quantity (MCM) 0.00 72.40 154.53 226.93 151.29 80.00 53.33 26.67 196.71 245.20 93.91 102.83

Notes: a Since this is the actual water that is supplied for a period of 8 months, the allocation should also be calculated based on a period of 8 months. b Used over a period of 8 months. Source: Water Resources Department documents available with the Palghar Irrigation Division.

three years, the MMRDA will start utilising this water. The detailed breakup of the water allocations from the Surya project is shown in Table 12.1.

Key issues and insights emerging from the field study Since Palghar lies in close proximity to the ever-expanding city of M ­ umbai, there has been an emergence of a discourse that with urbanisation and induction of the rural people into the urban workforce (both the formal service and industrial sectors and the informal, unorganised sectors), and the resulting increased migration of people to urban areas, the agricultural land would lay uncultivated. This would, in turn, reduce the demand for irrigation water. This discourse provides ‘legitimacy’ to intersectoral reallocation of water from irrigation to non-irrigation uses. Further, there is a pertinent play of power dynamics in the different sectors that demand water which facilitates the prioritisation of these reallocations between different uses and users. This power dynamics comes into play when two stakeholders who do not have equal material, human, political, economic and social resources at their disposal assert their demands. The ones with all or many resources can employ them to get their demands fulfilled and/or often deny the demands of the ones who lack these resources. Some of these observations were also made during the field surveys carried out in the region over a period of two

266  Simran Sumbre et al. months from April to May 2018. Some of the key insights and issues are highlighted in the following subsections. Physical condition of the canal network The Surya Project is intrinsically related to the livelihoods of the farmers in its command area. Any major changes in its management, maintenance and institutional structure/mechanism have both direct and indirect effects on the farmers, who are dependent on canal water for irrigation. In the case of the Surya project, the canal network can be called an ‘engineering blunder’ for reasons discussed below. Many sections of the main canal were observed to be broken and worn out (Figure 12.2). Large sections of the main and the branch canals were either not lined at all or were not lined properly. At the tail end, the canals were never constructed, and therefore the farmers here have never received water for

Figure 12.2  Discontinuous lining work of the canal.

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  267 irrigation. The most interesting observation during the field visits was that at a number of places in Dahanu taluka the canals were constructed at a level below that of the fields and hence physically it was not possible to take the water available in the canals to the fields by gravity (Figure 12.3). There were only a handful of farmers that were using pumps to lift water from the canal. These farmers mostly owned large farmlands locally called wadis.5 While many of the villages, especially those located at the tail end, complained of irregular or absolutely no water supply from the canals, the situation in Vaghadi village, located at the head region of the command, was paradoxical. The farmers here were troubled by excess water entering their fields, leading to waterlogging and thereby ruining their fertile lands. This is due to the fact that once the irrigation rotations begin, the water cannot be stopped until it reaches the tail end of the canal. The major hindrance in the distribution of the water is the faulty engineering coupled with lack of repair and maintenance. The efficiency of the canals is poor due to leakage losses. This situation is aggravated by

Figure 12.3  A farmer shows the depth of the canal, lower than the adjoining fields.

268  Simran Sumbre et al. untimely and irregular releases from the dam. The availability of water in the command area is highly disproportionate, leading to crop damage due to excess water on one hand and loss of agricultural livelihood and income due to the unavailability of water on the other hand. In such a condition, the repair of the canals becomes of utmost importance for the optimum efficiency of the irrigation system and ensuring that at least the remaining 93 MCM of irrigation water benefits the farmers. Piped vs open canal irrigation: perceptions of the communities As a step to offset the reduction in the water available for irrigation, the Water Resources Department (WRD) wants to increase the water conveyance efficiency by resorting to closed pipelines instead of open canals for water distribution (discussed in detail later). The opinion over piped vs canal distribution clearly remains divided among the different people as per where their lands are situated: at the head, middle or the tail end of the canal. People opting for open canal distribution had their fields in the head end of the canal with abundant access to water. They were of the opinion that it is important because it not only recharges their wells but also takes care of the water for their livestock. They feared that piped water distribution would reduce the availability and accessibility of water for their domestic and livestock needs. These farmers also opined that shifting to pipeline would involve payment of a higher irrigation fee, therefore increasing their input costs. They remained sceptical about the efforts that would be taken by the government in order to achieve this. In contrast, the farmers who have never received canal water predominantly from the tail end of the command area or have an irregular supply of canal water were in favour of irrigation water delivered via pipelines. They believe that piped water will reduce evaporation and seepage losses as the water will flow through a closed network. Effects on livelihoods of the communities With the increasingly erratic nature of the rainfall and the irregular and undependable supply of water from canals, the livelihoods of people who are dependent on agriculture is at risk. During the rabi season (crops grown in the winter season) and summer, only those villages which receive canal water are able to grow a second crop of paddy or take up vegetable cultivation (though relatively few in number). Some of these farmers also grow crops like lentils and oilseeds like sesame, as these crops require less labour, capital investment and water compared to paddy and also give higher returns. In villages where canal water is insufficient or does not reach, the farmers either work as daily wage farm labourers in wadis or go to nearby towns and cities such as Boisar and Vasai-Virar to work as contractual labour in factories. The villagers talked about instances where they were denied treated drinking water at the factories where they work, with no

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  269 explanation given, and had to resort to drinking untreated water from wells or borewells, in a way further denying them their share of water which has already been denied once through diversion and reallocation. Issues of rehabilitation and compensation Many farmers have lost parts of their land during construction of the water distribution network. A majority of them are yet to receive compensation for the same. Many farmers have tried to contact the gram panchayats and the WRD to get compensation for their lost lands, but their demands have not been heard yet. In protest, some farmers have stopped paying up the pani patti or the water tariff. The project-affected villages not only endure the issue of canal water not reaching them but also face varied problems and struggles of their own that need to be highlighted. Chandranagar and Hanumannagar are the two villages in the command area where project-affected people are resettled. The project-affected people from Sava village and several other paadas (hamlets) around the village in Jawahar taluka were resettled people in these two villages. While getting canal water is a major problem in other villages, at Hanumannagar it is a secondary concern. Although at the time of displacement they were promised land for resettlement, the reality is that only 47 households out of a total of 375 have got land ownership. The lack of land ownership becomes an obstacle for farmers to take advantage of any government schemes. Even among those who have land, none have got land equal to the acreage they held prior to displacement. To add to the existing heap of problems, Hanumannagar is located along the route of the proposed controversial bullet train project. The farmers have received a notice stating the date for the measurement of land that will be taken away under the project. This is being done without any discussion or negotiations with them. They have lost their lands earlier (for the Surya Project), and they will lose them again under the ‘noble’ cause of development. However, this time around, with the second displacement under the bullet train project, they will not even be eligible to claim any compensation for the lost lands, as they do not have the lands in their names. It has been thirty-eight years since the farmers of Hanumannagar were resettled, and among the multitude of problems they face, getting the lands in their names still remains the major hindrance in asserting their right to livelihood. Water quality Most of the villages in Palghar and Dahanu talukas do not have piped drinking water supply, and therefore their source of drinking water is groundwater. In Dabhon, an adivasi village in the Dahanu taluka, a drinking water scheme has been provided on paper, but they do not yet have any physical infrastructure in place for water supply. This forces the villagers to extract water from borewells as deep as 300 feet, along with dug wells,

270  Simran Sumbre et al. for drinking water and other domestic uses. The water from these sources is often contaminated and turns yellowish-green in colour upon storage, making it unfit for human consumption. The farmers reported instances of abdominal pain and diarrhoea due to the consumption of such water. Similar is the case with the project-affected village of Hanumananagar. The villagers have often complained of water having a red or yellowish tinge and have been experiencing gastrointestinal problems. Unanimously all the communities in the Palghar and Dahanu talukas have demanded for drinking water through a piped system. They are of the strong opinion that if treated drinking water is provided through pipelines to the urban populace from the same source (Surya Project) that was supposed to give them irrigation water, why should they not receive piped drinking water from the same source? Unlike most of the villages in Palghar and Dahanu, Khamnoli and ­Bahadoli villages – both falling in Palghar taluka – have actually benefitted from the pipeline laid for Vasai-Virar. The farmers in these villages had protested for their right to clean drinking water and had got a connection for their villages from the pipeline. Perceptions of the state authorities The WRD seems to have a counterview on the issue of reallocation of water to VVMC and Mira-Bhayandar. The department justifies the reallocation of water for non-irrigation uses as a result of a lack of demand from the farmers for irrigation use. Along with this perception of reduced demand for irrigation water, the department also believes that due to increasing urbanisation in the region, agriculture has become a secondary occupation as the farmers are moving towards industrial jobs created in and around the area. This is the justification given for reducing the command area from 14,696 ha to 7,015 ha (apart from the fact that the water available after reallocation is not sufficient to irrigate the entire command area). Furthermore, it is the department’s proposition that the almost halved command area must be introduced to a piped distribution system for irrigation to ensure optimum efficiency of the distribution system. The entire system will not be piped, however; only the distributaries, minors and field channels will be piped, to reduce the cost of the project. This, they believe, will reduce the conveyance and distribution losses and increase the efficiency of the system. The department has already had a meeting with the governor to discuss this proposal and it is under deliberation. The Vasai-Virar Municipal Corporation also justifies the reallocation of water stating that the drinking water needs are above the irrigation needs as per water use prioritisation. Vasai-Virar has been rapidly urbanising, and with the increasing population, the demand for drinking water is also increasing. Moreover, the municipal corporation states that the increasing population also constitutes a large number of migrants from the command area of the Surya Project. Thus, in their opinion, it is only fair to lift water

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  271 from the project when it is also meeting the domestic water needs of the people who have migrated to Vasai-Virar from the Surya Project command area. Though the government has thought of developing new sources (Jawhar-Deherje Dam of 265–300 MLD and Susri Dam of 200 MLD) of water to meet urban demands, it intends to continue lifting water from the Surya Project irrespective of the protests and agitation by the farmers against the reallocation. Surya dam protest This conflict over diversion of water from the Surya dam to urban regions has been brewing for a long time. In the latest turn of events, on 19 March 2018, six farmers from Dahanu and Palghar taluka sat on a hunger strike outside the collector’s office of the Palghar district in protest of the diversion of water from the Surya Project. There were around 1,500 farmers from the region that turned up at the office to show their support. Following the protests and three-day fasts by the farmers, the Governor of ­Maharashtra called a meeting of the Surya Pani Bachav Samiti (SPBS) that led the protests and the WRD. During this meeting the SPBS urged the governor to set up an inquiry to revisit the objectives of the dam and why the rights of the farmers over the water for irrigation are being taken away. They also asked him to stop the proposal for the diversion of water to Vasai-Virar (HT team 2018). While there have been agitations off and on, the efforts to resist water diversion seem to be fading away. Though some famers took part in the protest, there were many who had no knowledge about the protests, even though they shared the same sentiments as those who took part in it. Navnitlal Shah mentioned that there has been a lack of leadership due to which this movement has not come out as strong as it should. There was also a lack of proper mobilisation of farmers both in Palghar and Dahanu talukas, which has given the movement a highly disorganised form. Since the farmers are facing a lot of hardships, there is an urgent need to organise them to demand their share of water.

Discussion The field observations led to some very critical insights regarding the Surya Project right since its inception with regard to the planning, management and governance of the water resources. This section will try to highlight critical aspects related to the issue of water reallocation. The entire Surya Project plan was developed to create an irrigation potential of about 14,000 ha. The non-irrigation use and demands were not originally projected and planned for. However, owing to the low demand for irrigation water after the operationalisation of the project in 1990, the increasing demand for water from VVMC was met by the WRD by

272  Simran Sumbre et al. diverting the unutilised water for irrigation. Since a part of the funding for the completion of this project came from the MMRDA funds, they felt entitled to use this water. The construction of the entire planned canal system of the Surya Project has not been completed to date. There have been delays in the construction of the canal infrastructure. This led to the non-utilisation of the water for irrigation purposes, which was one of the major reasons for the reallocation of water for non-irrigation use by the government authorities. To add to the problems, the Surya project canal system is a typical example of faulty engineering, as in certain villages water does not flow to the fields from the distribution system by gravity because the canals have been constructed at a lower level than the fields. To assume that the poor adivasi farmers will make arrangement to utilise the water provided in such areas shows the apathy of the WRD. Lack of maintenance and repair work also resulted in heavy conveyance losses. Moreover, the huge amount of capital invested in constructing the canal system is mostly rendered dead investment, as the water for irrigation remained underutilised and was subsequently diverted to other uses. The issue of such reallocation should also be seen as the loss of capital invested for creating the canal system, when ultimately most of water meant for irrigation is being diverted to other uses. The irrigation infrastructure in Maharashtra generally is in a bad state because of lack of proper repairs and maintenance. The Surya Project being in an adivasi area, primarily catering to adivasis, only adds to the problems, as the infrastructure facilities in most adivasi areas are of a poor quality, and the concerned departments do not pay much attention to its proper upkeep. The adivasis are a neglected community, and so is the infrastructure serving them. Irrigation has not been a part of the ‘ethos’ of adivasi population residing in the Surya Project area. Therefore, there is, in general, low awareness among the farmers regarding irrigated agriculture. This is also partly responsible for the problem of not fully utilising the water for irrigation purposes by the farmers. The WRD took this as a case of ‘less or no’ demand for water for irrigation by the adivasi communities. However, from the field study it appears that the government has not taken sufficient measures to generate awareness among the adivasi communities regarding canal-­irrigated cultivation. In Maharashtra, the system is that the farmers in the command area need to demand or apply for water in each irrigation season on crop area basis. The concerned irrigation official or the Water Users’ Association (WUA) – in case there is a WUA – sanctions the water as per water availability. Studies as well as experience show that farmers do not demand for water if there is surety of getting water (SOPPECOM 2002; Anonymous 2004). This also seems to have worked in the case of Surya Project farmers. The allocation of the water from the Surya to VVMC was supposed to have been temporary, until VVMC created an alternative source for their needs. The analysis of the case of the Surya Project shows that hardly any measures were taken by the VVMC to develop alternative sources. In the case of the Surya, it is abundantly evident that since the initial ‘temporary

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  273 allocation’ was a small quantity, this was later turned to a permanent reservation. The political forces have a very deep role to play in this change. In fact, the proposed alternative sources are the Jawhar-Deherje Dam and the Susri Dam, which are located in the same adivasi region. This does not solve the issue, and would instead further aggravate the problems, as there would be further displacement and destruction of the ecosystems and the livelihoods of the adivasis. Even today the adivasi community in Palghar and Dahanu talukas is of the opinion that the provision of the water for the domestic needs of Vasai-Virar should not be completely stopped. Instead, these demands should be only met after giving them their rightful share of water. The most critical insight that came from this study was that, though the issue of reallocation is being framed as a conflict of irrigation vs domestic water use, the hidden issue – and this is not often talked about even by the leaders of SPBS – is that it is also a conflict of domestic water needs of the urban vs the domestic water needs of the rural or the adivasis. With no piped drinking water supply, most of the adivasi communities rely on groundwater as their source of drinking water. Right now, the groundwater is being recharged through the seepage from the canal water, which largely takes care of their domestic needs. It was also evident that during summer, once the irrigation rotations stop, the groundwater tables start declining. With more and more diversions taking place from the dam and lesser quantities of water in the canal, the adivasi community will lose out even on recharged water to meet their basic needs. If the proponents of the diversion of water believe that the drinking water needs must be prioritised over any other need, the next logically unavoidable question is: Whose drinking water needs are being prioritised over whose? If the water is diverted for drinking water needs of Vasai-Virar, it is simultaneously denying the adivasi farmers their basic domestic water needs as well as livelihood needs. The other very important issue that comes up in the water use is that of demand-side management. In the case of urban vs rural water conflict, it is necessary to disaggregate the urban ‘domestic’ uses of water. Water is used for drinking, cooking, washing, bathing and sanitation, which are all lumped together as domestic water use. Apart from these needs, today the drinking-quality water that runs through the taps is also used for washing cars, gardening, water parks, swimming pools, spas, commercial places, etc. All these are accounted under ‘domestic’ water use. This calls for a distinction between the different uses under the rubric of domestic water – a distinction between the very basic needs like drinking, cooking, washing and sanitation needs, which could be termed as lifeline water, and other uses like washing cars, gardening, water parks, swimming pools, spas, etc., which should be classified as luxury water. Currently, there is no study on partitioning this use of water within the cities (ideally at the household level). Only the lifeline water should be considered as part of the right to water, and not the luxury water. The luxury water needs can be easily met from recycling and reuse. This would drastically bring down the freshwater

274  Simran Sumbre et al. requirements of our cities and, as a consequence, the amount of water that is being diverted from rural areas to the cities. Besides, the flushing systems for toilets are clearly inefficient, where more than 10 litres of drinking-grade water go down the drain in a single use when in actuality so much water is not needed for effective flushing. Developing urban centres like Vasai-Virar do not have the infrastructure to even collect the domestic sewage waste and treat it for reuse. Therefore, while the city is bringing in water from distant places to meet its increasing needs, it is creating more and more waste without incorporating sustainable practices to manage it. In the future, in order to meet their increasing demands, it is essential for the VVMC to augment and preserve their local resources and implement practices like rainwater harvesting and wastewater recycling and reuse. The WRD should develop mechanisms of supplying piped drinking water as well as irrigation water to the adivasis who were promised to be benefitted from the project and/or re-evaluate their decisions of diverting the reserved water to the urban centres. The government has shown apathy in formulating a policy framework for the equitable allocation of water among different users and uses in a transparent and participatory manner. As per the MWRRA Act, the power of determining water entitlements and allocation to various categories of use is vested in the MWRRA after 2005. While exercising this power, the MWRRA must follow the principle of ‘equitable’ allocation, within which the MWRRA must ensure that every farmer in the command area gets a particular ‘quota’ of water for irrigation (Prayas Resources and Livelihoods Group 2013). However, an amendment in the form of an ordinance was proposed in September 2010, which the government got approved despite protests. The amendment took away the power of the MWRRA to make decisions on intersectoral allocation and vested them in the cabinet. Under the MWRRA Act of 2005, the process of intersectoral reallocation had to be democratic, participatory and transparent. The MWRRA included public hearings to ensure multi-stakeholder negotiations for making decisions on intersectoral reallocations. However, the new amendment follows a topdown order and does not mention and ensure any such participatory decision-making procedures. The absence of a socially agreed-upon norms of allocations for different uses and also users, and the lack of participatory and transparent processes within the current governance framework, has led to the diversion of more and more water from the Surya Project to urban cities over the years. This lack of stakeholder engagement in the case of water reallocations has only led to the emergence of Surya-type conflicts flaring up in many parts of the country. This water grabbing seems to be clearly linked to the neoliberal economic policies characterised by liberalisation, privatisation and globalisation since 1990 and the various sectoral reform programmes that came out of it (Wagle et al. 2012). These policies and reform packages seem to privilege the urban over the rural and the industry over agriculture.

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  275 Lastly, politics has played a very vital role in grabbing water from the a­ divasi regions. In order to gain ground in their respective constituencies, the political parties have influenced a number of decisions of (re)allocation of water from the Surya Project. Though many activists in the region took to legal recourse, their efforts do not seem to have succeeded. There are active agitations in the region, and the Surya Pani Bachav Samiti is protesting for their ‘right share of water of Surya’, but these efforts are hanging by a loose thread because strong and consistent support from the adivasi communities is still lacking. With more and more farmers losing their livelihoods and sources of income, awareness is gradually building up. However, the evident apathy from the state seems to be working on their minds, and many seem to be leaning towards a conclusion that they eventually may have to resort to other means of livelihood.

Way forward The case of the Surya Project is one of the innumerable examples across the country of growing water reallocations and resultant intersectoral conflicts as a result of the developmental pathway based on urbanisation and industrialisation. This is also directly linked to the economic reforms unleashed in the country since 1990. Within this larger framing, the case study of the Surya Project also brings forth various other fault lines within the project: faulty engineering; unclear norms of water allocation right since the planning stage of the project; absence of and/or badly maintained distribution infrastructure leading to tail-enders not getting access to water. It further highlights the absence of any effort on the part of the Mira-Bhayandar and Vasai-Virar municipal authorities to either find alternative sources of water for the cities which they had initially agreed to do or to avoid waste, to check ‘luxury’ uses and to recycle and reuse in order to reduce the quantum of demand and the water diverted. Similarly, there are no transparent and participatory processes or institutional spaces for negotiated settlements among the concerned direct stakeholders. This opens many fronts – both long term and short term – to work on to resolve or prevent such conflicts. The case study also brings forth the fact that both sectors – agricultural and urban domestic water use – need to look internally and see how water can be used equitably, sustainably and efficiently with the shared objective of reducing the overall water footprint. This is all the more important because of climate change, as the available freshwater could decrease in the long run. There could be more uncertainties because of extreme events (Joy and Srinivasan 2020). Demand-side management in terms of better cropping pattern and agronomical practices, proper maintenance of the water distribution system, equitable water distribution including addressing the issue of tailender deprivation in irrigation commands, among others, are important areas for the agricultural sector. For the urban water use, one of the immediate steps that needs to be taken is to separate the lifeline uses from the luxury uses and see that every person, irrespective of the legality of

276  Simran Sumbre et al. their citizenship, should be provided with lifeline water on an equitable and affordable basis. The luxury uses need to be linked to the recycled water. Access to exogenous freshwater in the cities should be made conditional to the concerned urban authorities first exhausting all ‘soft’ options like recycle and reuse, local water harvesting, controlling the waste and bringing in more efficient use (Joy et al. 2011). Finally, we also need legally mandated institutional spaces at different hydrological scales for the different stakeholders (like the farmers, urban users, concerned authorities, academic institutions and civil society organisations) to come together, share data and experiences, discuss the various water needs and come to agreements around allocations for different uses within the available water under different scenarios like normal rainfall years, surplus years and deficit years.

Acknowledgement The authors would like to thank Brian Lobo (Kashtakari Sanghattana), ­Ramakant Patil (Convenor of the Surya Pani Bachav Samiti and also the member of Janata Dal-Secular), Navnitlal Bhogilal Shah (senior activist and ex-MLA from Palghar), Mr. Nilesh Dusane (Executive Engineer, WRD, Palghar Division), Sadabhau Tambda, Pravin Singhada, Datta Singhada, Raghunath Kom, Ranjit Pilena, Gajanan Mhaskar, Kaluram Pardhe, Suresh Surva, Tukaram Kini, Avinash Patil and all the adivasi communities in the Palghar and Dahanu talukas who willingly took part in the discussions and helped us in this study. Field work was supported by Aghyam Trust, B ­ engaluru as part of its support to the third phase of Water Conflict Forum’s work.

Notes 1 In 2012, the Government of Maharashtra via a Government Resolution (GR) revised this and accorded the second priority to agriculture. 2 In 2003, the Government of Maharashtra promulgated a Government Resolution (GR) that spelt out its policy related to use of water form irrigation projects for non-irrigation uses that superseded all related GRs, circulars and government notifications that hitherto existed. As per this GR, the authority to allocate up to 25% of the reservoir capacity of irrigation projects for non-irrigation uses remained with different levels of the Irrigation (Water Resources) Department. For the allocation of more than 25%, a ministerial-level committee – High Power Committee – was formed. The committee was headed by the Minister of Water Resources and included five other ministers from related departments (Prayas Resources and Livelihoods Group 2013). 3 Forum for Policy Dialogue on Water Conflicts in India (Water Conflict Forum to be brief) is a network of individuals and organisations interested in the water sector, particularly related to conflicts, since 2004. The Water Conflict Forum has about 800 members mainly drawn from civil society, academia and media. It is committed to the core values of equity, justice, environmental sustainability, efficiency of resource use and democratisation of water governance. It has evolved over the years, from simply documenting conflicts to actively

Conflict and resistance over water reallocation  277 participating in preventing and resolving conflicts and creating conditions like knowledge generation and building common platforms for negotiations between conflicting partners in order to backstop conflicts. The core strength of the Water Conflict Forum has been in stakeholder interaction, knowledge creation, policy advocacy, networking, training and outreach. 4 Navnitlal Bhogilal Shah was a former MLA from the Palghar and also a member of the Janata Dal Secular. He is a Gandhian by principles and also took part in the freedom struggle. He was the first person to file the petition against the first tender that was released to allocate water to Virar in 1996. 5 Wadis are big fields that usually take up horticulture where the vegetables and fruits are cultivated that require less water and give more output. They are irrigated with drip system through bore wells or wells.

References Agarwala, M., & Agarwala, A. 2014. ‘Privatized Water Delivery Systems in National Capital Region of Delhi’. In: Conflicts around Domestic Water and Sanitation in India: Cases, Issues and Prospects, Ed. Joy, K. J., Paranjape, S., & Bhagat, S. (pp. 75–94), Pune: Forum for Policy Dialogue on Water Conflicts in India. Anonymous. 2004. Proceedings of the National Workshop on Tail-enders and Other Deprived in the Canal Irrigation System. Ahmedabad: Development Support Centre. Climate-Data.org. n.d. Climate: Palghar. https://en.climate-data.org/location/ 24344/, accessed 4 October 2018. Government of India (GoI). 1999. Manual on Water Supply and Treatment. Central Public Health and Environmental Engineering Organization. Ministry of Urban Development. https://mdws.gov.in/sites/default/files/Manual_on_Water_Supply_ and_Treatment_CPHEEO_MoUD_1999.pdf, accessed 4 October 2018. Government of India (GoI). 2012. The National Water Policy 2012. http://mowr. gov.in/sites/default/files/NWP2012Eng6495132651_1.pdf, accessed 7 October 2018. Government of Maharashtra. 2005a. Maharashtra Water Resources Regulatory Authority Act, 2005, Maharshtra Act No. XVIII of 2005. Mumbai: Government Printing, Stationery and Publications, Maharashtra State. https://mwrra.org/ wp-content/uploads/2018/07/MWRRA-Act-Regulatory-English.pdf, accessed 30 June 2020. Government of Maharashtra. 2005b. Report of Committee for Finalization of Water Resources for MMR (excluding Mumbai). https://mmrda.maharashtra. gov.in/documents/10180/217021/Final+GOM+chitale++report+On+WSRM/ c2304355-0596-485b-88e3-fe23044a5771, accessed 4 October 2018. Government of Maharashtra. 2018. Maharashtra Water Resources Regulatory Authority Act, 2005 (as modified up to 23 January 2018), Maharashtra Act No. XVIII of 2005. Mumbai: Government Printing, Stationery and Publications, Maharashtra State. https://www.indiacode.nic.in/bitstream/123456789/7034/1/ the_maharashtra_water_resources_regulatory_athority_act_2005_%2818_ of_2005%29_%28modified_23.01.2018%29.pdf, accessed 30 June 2020. India-WRIS. 2011. Dhamni (Surya) Dam D02997. http://india-wris.nrsc.gov.in/ wrpinfo/index.php?title=Dhamni(Surya)_Dam_D02997, Accessed 4 October 2018.

278  Simran Sumbre et al. Joy K. J., Gujja, B., Paranjape, S., Goud, V., & Vispute, S. 2008. ‘Introduction: A Million Revolts in the Making: Understanding Water Conflicts in India’. In: Water Conflicts in India: A Million Revolts in the Making, Ed. Joy, K. J., Gujja, B., Paranjape, S., Goud, V., & Vispute, S. (pp. 17–32), London, New York and New Delhi: Routledge. Joy K. J., Sangameswaran, P., Latha, A., Dharmadhikary, S., Prasad, M. K., & Soma, K. P. 2011. Life, Livelihoods, Ecosystems, Culture: Entitlements and Allocation of Water for Competing Uses. Pune: Forum for Policy Dialogue on Water Conflicts in India. Joy K. J., & Srinivasan, V. 2019–2020. ‘Climate Change and Rural Water Security’. In: Weather Report: The Crisis of Climate Change, Ed. Ravi Agarwal and Omita Goyal IIC QUARTERLY, Winter 2019–Spring 2020, 46(3 & 4). Prayas Resources and Livelihoods Group. 2013. Water Grabbing in Maharashtra Analysis of Water Reallocation Decisions and Amendments in MWRRA Law’, Study report. Pune: Resources and Livelihood Group, Prayas. Punjabi, B., & Johnson, C. A. 2018. ‘The politics of rural–urban water conflict in India: Untapping the power of institutional reform’. World Development., 120(2019): 182–192. SOPPECOM. 2002. Study on Tail-enders and Other Deprived In Irrigation Commands In Maharashtra. Pune: SOPPECOM. http://www.soppecom.org/pdf/ Tail%20ender%20study%20report.pdf, accessed 1 July 2020. SOPPECOM. 2012. Maharashtra Water Resources Regulatory Authority: An Assessment. Water Policy Research Highlight. http://www.iwmi.cgiar.org/iwmitata/PDFs/2012_Highlight-33.pdf, accessed 3 October 2018. HT Team. 2018. ‘Governor takes up Surya Dam Water Diversion Issue in Palghar, Calls for Meeting’. http://www.headlinetoday.news/post/governor-takes-upsurya-dam-water-diversion-issue-in-palghar-calls-for-meeting, accessed 8 October 2018. Wagle, S., Warghade, S., & Sathe, M. 2012. ‘Exploiting policy obscurity for legalising water grabbing in the era of economic reform: The case of Maharashtra India.’ Water Alternatives, 5(2): 412–430.

Index

Page numbers in Italics refer to figures; bold refer to tables and page ­numbers followed by ‘n’ refer to notes numbers Accelerated Irrigation Benefit Programme (AIBP) 262 Agenda 21, 205, 210n9 agricultural professionals 158 agro-­ecology 158, 168 Alam, K. 226 AMC 243, 244, 247 Anwar, Sohaib Waseem 14, 83–99 area and township development projects 18, 236 Asian Development Bank (ADB) 157, 158 Asian Ministerial Conference on Disaster Risk Reduction (AMCDRR) 206 Bajwa, Sukhreet 17, 197–210 Basic Services to Urban Poor (BSUP) section 246, 256n1 Basu, Jyoti 68 Bathla, S. 217 Beijing Declaration and Platform for Action 205 Best Alternative to a Negotiated Agreement (BATNAs) 26 Bhadbhade, Neha 259–277 Bhandari, L. 217 Bhatia, B.M. 216 Bihar floods of 1956 143 biological oxygen demand (BOD) 240 Bisht, Medha 14, 83–99 Brenner, N. 185 Budds, J. 85 ‘capacity development initiatives,’ 206 Central Water and Power Commission (CWPC) 143

Centre Water Commission (CWC) 117 chemical oxygen demand (COD) 240 China–Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) 76 CHIRAG 188, 192 Choudhary, Lahtan 144 Choudhury, Enamul 13, 25–51 chronic poverty 214–216, 223, 226 civic activism 169 civil society activism 78 climate change effects 57, 63, 72, 74, 75 Command Area Development (CAD) Programme 262 Command Area Development Project (CADP) 157–158 complex coupled system 13, 28 complexity science 3 crop yields 19, 90, 158, 159 Cyclone Aila 199 Dasgupta, Ashim 68 data-­sharing mechanisms 9, 49, 135 Department for International Development (DFID) 250 Department of Soil Conservation and Watershed Management (DoSCWM) plans 117 dependability principle 9 Desai, R. 242–247 Disaster Management Act, 2005 206 disaster management cycle: early warning phase 199, 199–200; rehabilitation and reconstruction 199, 201–202; relief operations 199, 200–201; search and rescue forces 199, 200

280  Index disaster of 2008 16 Dixit, Ajaya 15, 16, 102–123, 125n20, 150–173 Doble, J. 214 Dutta, Venkatesh 1–20 economic appraisal: AMC 247; commodification 248; communal riots 246–247; environmental costs 248; forced evictions 247; livelihood and residence 246; rehabilitation and resettlement policy 246, 247; slum evictions 245–246; urban redevelopment and gentrification 245 Electricity Act in 1993 115 engineering blunder 19, 266 engineering economics 10 environmental impact assessment (EIA) study 247 Environmental Planning Collaborative (EPC) 237 equitable river sharing 12 Farakka Barrage 10, 63–68 farming communities 160 flood disasters and conflicts 17 food insecurity 18, 166, 213–215, 225, 244 forest ecosystems 11 freshwater resources 1, 213 Gandak Area Development Agency (GADA) 166 Gandak Barrage Irrigation and Power Project (GIPP): hydropower 155; infrastructure 155–157, 156; limitation 170; total area 155, 157 Gandak River Agreement 16, 17; benefits and cost see Nepal West Gandak Canal (NWGC); GIPP 155– 157, 156, 157; provisions 154–155 Gandak River Basin (GaRB): characteristics 152, 153; Gandak River Agreement see Gandak River Agreement; Ganga River’s Tributary basin and 151–152, 152; initial intervention 153–154 Gandak River Control Struggle Committee 169 Ganga River basin 10, 63–64, 66, 67, 69 Ganga Treaty of 1996 8, 10, 56, 58; droughts and floods 67; ‘economic and feasible’ solution 65; Farakka

Barrage 64–68; Ganga River basin 63–64; geopolitics and geo-­economics 68; Indo-­Bangladeshi Joint Rivers Commission (JRC) 65; Kolkata port 68; Nepal’s participation 67; policy of bilateralism 67; techno-­centric treaties 67; UNFCCC 66; West Bengal’s political parties 68 GaRB see Gandak River Basin (GaRB) gender-­based discrimination 201 GIPP see Gandak Barrage Irrigation and Power Project (GIPP) Gomti Action Plan (GAP) 250–251, 254 Gomti Riverfront Development Project (GRDP): aquifer recharge 251–253; economic appraisal 253–254; flow volume 249; GAP 250–251; land use pattern 249; social repercussions 253; vs. SRDP 254–255; wastewater and effluent inlets 249 GoN’s 2002 Water Resources Strategy (WRS) 117 governance of interstate rivers 6, 6–7 Government Resolution (GR) 276n1, 276n2 GRDP see Gomti Riverfront Development Project (GRDP) groundwater resources 4, 90, 185 groundwater usage 167–168 group discussions 188–189 Gujarat Industrial Development Corporation (GIDC) units 240 Gupta, Narendra 18, 212–232 Gurgaon Water Supply (GWS) Canal 187 Gyawali, D. 7, 10 Haryana Urban Development Authority (HUDA) 191 Health Card Yojna 227, 228 ‘hierarchy of needs,’ 216 Himalaya–Ganga system 2, 2, 3, 9, 12 Himalayan rivers 2, 7 Hinojosa, L. 85 Hoddinott, J. 215 human-­built systems 2, 3 human security 212; aspect of 215–216; definition 216; denial of water share 225–226; households 225, 226; insufficient nutrient food 214–215; landlords 225; regular water

Index  281 shortage 214; social conflicts 226; water scarcity 216–217, 226–227 hydro-­diplomacy 14, 15, 76, 77, 84, 86, 87, 96, 132–133 hydro-­politics 40 Hydropower Development Policy 115 hydro-­socio-­economic territories reconfiguration 19 India–Nepal border 9, 137 Indo–Nepal project commission 138–139 Indo–Nepal Treaty 11 Indo-­Pak Water Treaty 218 Indus and GBM river basins 56, 57 Indus River basin 58–63 Indus Treaty of 1960 8, 10 Indus valley civilisation 59 Indus Waters Treaty of 1960, 29–30, 56, 57, 97–99; cooperation 60; eastern tributaries 59–60; environmental issues and climate change 60; geopolitical equation 61; Indus River basin 58–59; Indus valley civilisation 59; 330-­MW Kishanganga project 62; 43-­MW Lower Kalnai project 62; 120-­ MW Miyar project 62; 1,000-­MW Pakuldul project 62; Permanent Indus Commission 60; Ratle project 62; river basin development and conservation 61; Tulbul Navigation Project 62 informant interviews 188 Ingram, H. 44 Integrated Wasteland Development Programme (IWDP) 227, 228 Integrated Water Resources Management (IWRM) 33, 40, 85, 86, 117 International Labour Organization (ILO) report 226 interstate water agreements 6 inundation 160–162, 162 Irrigation Management Transfer Project (IMTP) 158 irrigation requirements 11, 155 Jawaharlal Nehru National Urban Renewal Mission (JNNURM) 243, 246, 254, 256n1 Jha, Priyanka 17, 197–210 Joint Management Programme (JMP) 158 Joy, K.J. 259–277

Keddy, P. 215 Khare, A. 217 Kohn, Bernard 237 Koirala, Matrika Prasad 113, 125n17 Koshi Agreement, 1954 112, 133; agricultural lands and immovable property, loss compensation 135–136; arbitration 138; connectivity and communication 137–138; data sharing 135; de-­ linked and dysfunctional institutional arrangements 134–135; extensive revisions 133; hydro-­power generation 136–137; Indo–Nepal project commission 138–139; navigation and fishing 137; post facto regularisation 134; preambular ambiguities 133–134; resources and ecosystem services 137; water rights 136 Koshi agreement, 1966 133; compensation purposes 139–140; hydro-­electric power generation 141–142; unusual lease period 140–141; water rights 141 Koshi Barrage 16, 106, 107, 113, 131, 132, 142 Koshi basin: climate and hydrology 107–109; collaboration and participation of citizens 119–120; community-­based systems 115; constructive engagement 105; CWC 117; demography and population 110; devastating effects 132; development and utilisation 114; DoSCWM plans 117; eastern flood control embankment and spread 102, 103; Electricity Act in 1993 115; embankment construction 116; flooding 124n12; GoN’s 2002 WRS 117; historical context 111–114, 113; Hydropower Development Policy 115; IWRM 117; Koshi Project see Koshi Project; land use and changes 109–110; maintenance work 118; Middle Bhote Koshi Hydropower Project 116; Ministry of Water Resources 117; NWP 117; organic pollutants 130; peak flow data 123n4; physical system and geography 106, 106–107, 108; political economy analysis 103; post-­flood devastation 129; profile 129; river training and flood control programmes 118; sediment load

282  Index 123n5; stakeholders 103, 104, 114; water and sediment flows 118; waterborne diseases 130; water resource management 114–117; wicked problem 102 Koshi Peedit Vikas Pradhikar 142–146 Koshi Project 15, 16, 129–131; design and technical aspects 132; hydro-­ diplomacy perspective 132–133; Koshi floods, 2008 130–131; Koshi Peedit Vikas Pradhikar 142–146; Koshi project agreement 1954, 133–139; Koshi project agreement 1966, 139–142; KSDA 142–145 Koshi Sufferers Development Authority (KSDA) 142–145 Kumar, R.N. 240 Kusaha tragedy 131 Lahariya, K. 220 Langton, N. 171n1, 173n30 legal pluralism 180, 184, 190, 193 liberalisation, privatisation and globalisation (LPG) 238 local and regional water conflicts 1 Lucknow Development Authority (LDA) 253 Mahadevia, D. 238, 242, 243, 245, 246 Mahakali Water Treaty 218 Maharashtra Industrial Development Corporation (MIDC) 262 Maharashtra State Water Policy (MSWP) 260 Maharashtra Tribal Sub Plan (TSP) 262 Maharashtra Water Regulatory Water Authority (MWRRA) 260, 274 Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MNREGA) 227, 228 market efficiency 19 Maslow, A.H. 216 Mathur, N. 241–244, 246 Max-­Min approach 97 Maya Garibi Anudan Yojna 228 micro-­level water management 12 multilayered river basin management 15 Mumbai Metropolitan Regional Development Authority (MMRDA) 264, 265 Mustafa, D. 83 Narain, Vishal 17, 179–193 Narayana, C. 217

National Capital Region (NCR) Channel 187 National Disaster Management Authority (NDMA) 206 National Disaster Management Plan (NDMP) 206 National Disaster Relief Fund 200 2005 National Water Plan (NWP) 117 National Watershed Development Programme for Rain-­fed Areas (NWDPRA) 227–228 ‘naturalness’ of water scarcity 3–6, 4, 5 natural variability function 9 Navnitlal Bhogilal Shah 264 neoliberal economic policy 242, 274 Nepal West Gandak Canal (NWGC): agricultural extension 168; benefits and costs 167; climate change 167; compensation and community activism 169; cross-­drainage structures 166; floods and inundation 160–162, 162; groundwater use 167–168; irrigation and agriculture 157–160, 158, 159; livelihood challenges 162, 163–165, 165, 166; operation, management and maintenance 168; road transportation 168–169 Neumayer, E. 204, 210n8 non-­governmental organisations (NGOs) 230, 230–231 Noolkar-­Oak, Gauri 14, 56–78 NWGC see Nepal West Gandak Canal (NWGC) Owens, T. 215 participant observation 188 Participatory Irrigation Management Policy 158 Patel, S. 243, 244 1996 Peace Treaty 35, 48 peri-­urbanisation: access to water sources 191–192; assimilative capacity 181; assumptions 179; conflict of interest 182; governance mechanisms 182; legal pluralism 184; livelihoods 181; physical location 181; political ecology 182–183; research context 184–186, 186; research design 187, 187–189; rural–urban transformations 180, 181; socio-­technical approach 183–184; wastewater use, institutions 189–191 piped distribution system 270

Index  283 Plümper, T. 204, 210n8 political dimension of water allocation and distribution 6 Prasad, G. 171n5 Prasai, S. 171n1, 173n30 prima facie Agreement 146 1966 Project-­centric agreement 15, 146 Public Distribution System (PDS) 227, 228, 244 public–private partnership (PPP) feature 254 Pulwama attacks 63 Qutub, S.A. 83 Raja, Rahul 259–277 ‘riverfront development project’ (RDP) 236, 237, 255 river Ravi: border creator 89; climate change impact 96; contaminated surface water 93; disconnectivity between legal structures and policy frameworks 96; discourses from Indian Punjab 95; discourses from Pakistan Punjab 94–95; ground and surface water quality deterioration 96; Indus Water Treaty, 1960 97–99; land rights 96; over-­abstraction of groundwater 96; profile 88–90, 89; sub-­basin 87–88; three-­crop pattern 92; urbanisation and industrialisation 93; waterborne diseases 96; water-­diplomacy 85, 87, 96–97; water quantity and quality, in Indian Punjab 90–91; water quantity and quality, in Pakistan Punjab 91–93; waterscapes 84–87; water security 97; water stress 96 Roe, E.M. 180 Rowland, M. 171n1 rural rivers 18, 236 Sabarmati Riverfront Development Project (SRDP): basin description 240; construction 239; economic appraisal 245–248; flow volume 240–241; global standards 238, 239; vs. GRDP 254–255; heavy metal contamination 240; inflow restriction 239; marginalised sections 241; Narmada River 240; peri-­urban farming 241; pollutants 241; river restoration 241; socio-­economic repercussions 242–245; spatial division 238; STPs 240

Samra, J.S. 219 scale and power disparity 6, 6–7 Schmidt, J. 38 semi-­structured interviews 188 Sendai Framework for Disaster Risk Reduction (SFDRR) 205, 206, 209 Sen, S. 124n8 ‘sewage farm,’ 250 sewage treatment plants (STPs) 240, 250, 251 Sharma, S. 216 Shukla, Ashutosh 16, 102–123, 150–173 Siddiqui, Shawahiq 16, 129–147 Singh, Aditya Kumar 17, 179–193 Singh, A.P. 216 Singh, Bijay 102–123 Singh, P. 125n21 Siwalik 106, 107, 151, 152, 154 social adaptive capacity 4 socio-­ecological processes 14, 28, 29, 44 socio-­economic assessments (SEA) 247 socio-­economic status of households 162, 163–165, 165, 166 South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC) 77, 78 South Asian water cooperation treaties 56 special economic zone (SEZ) 185 SRDP see Sabarmati Riverfront Development Project (SRDP) State Disaster Response Force 200 sugarcane cultivation 160, 168 Sumbre, Simran 259–277 Surya Irrigation Project, Maharashtra: adivasi communities 262, 272, 275; canal network, physical condition 266, 266–268, 267; construction 261–262, 272; dam and command area location 262, 263; demand-­side management 273–274; livelihoods 268–269; low demand 271–272; piped vs. open canal irrigation 268; power dynamics 265; reallocation issue 262, 264–265, 265, 273; rehabilitation and compensation issues 269; state authorities 270–271; Surya dam protest 271; water quality 269–270; water reallocation 260–261 Surya Pani Bachav Samiti (SPBS) 271, 275

284  Index Teesta draft agreement 56, 58; ‘Act East’ policy 73; ad hoc agreement 70; dispute resolution mechanism 71; food security 73; groundwater aquifers 72; India–Bangladesh engagement 73; Indo–Bangladeshi cooperation 71; Indo-­Bangladeshi Joint Rivers Commission (JRC) 70; Teesta River basin 69–70; West Bengal, geopolitical and economic strengths 73 TERI 188 The Arun 107 total dissolved solids (TDS) 240 trafficking: gender issues 205; government emergency meetings 205; manpower agencies 203; sexual and human rights violations 203–204; socio-­economic inequalities 204–205; ‘sold,’ bought and paid wives 204; stakeholders 205 transboundary rivers 1, 3, 12, 30, 57, 64, 70, 77, 86–88, 150 transboundary water cooperation 13, 14, 76–78 transboundary water governance (TWG): active recognition of interdependence 48–49; adaptive learning and management 49; alignment process 26, 27; border-­crossing water management 28; conflict–cooperation 47; conflictual sub-­frame 39; context-­ specific process rules 33; cooperative sub-­frame 39–40; degree of uncertainty and variability 36; discernment and perception of fairness 34; equal share 35; equity and justice 34; evidence-­based policy action 29; fact–frame–fairness alignment 45–46; facts 27–29; fairness principle 34; frame analysis 36–38, 39; global norm formation 41–42; governance 29; historical pattern 29–30; hydro-­politics 40–41; institutional arrangements of cooperation 30–33; institutional cooperation sub-­frame 43–44; institutional–negotiated cooperation 47–48; institutional rules and actions 33; international norm-­global activism 47; IWRM 33; legitimate users 36; mutual learning and adaptive actions 26; mutual value creation 49; negotiated cooperation sub-­frame 44–45; negotiation

process 33; 1996 Peace Treaty 48; principle or value-­based approach 34; status quo politics 26; vigilance, voice and activism 42; water duty or stewardship 35 triggers of water disputes 7–10, 8 Tulbul Navigation Project 62 TWG see transboundary water governance (TWG) 1997 UN Convention 31, 34 UNDP Human Development Report 215 UN High Commissioner for Refugees 202 United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) 66 United Nations Office for Disaster Risk Reduction (UNDRR) 202, 205–206 urban infrastructure projects (UIPs) 237, 242, 243, 245, 249, 254, 256 Urban Land (Ceiling and Regulations) Act, 1976 243 Urban Land (Ceiling and Regulations Repeal) Act 2007 243 Uri attacks 62, 63 Vasai-­Virar Municipal Corporation (VVMC) 264, 270, 271 Verma, Manish K. 18, 212–232 ‘Vibrant Gujarat Summit,’ 247 Wajih, Shiraz A. 102–123 wastewater canal 188–190 Water Conflict Forum 276n3 water-­diplomacy 1, 14, 83–86, 88, 96–99 water diversion and allocation projects 3 water management technology 183–184 Water Quality Index (WQI) standards 240, 251 water reallocation from agriculture to urban users 18–19 Water Resources Department (WRD) 264, 268–271 water rights 42, 96, 129, 136, 140, 141, 146, 184 waterscapes 14–15, 83, 84, 86–88, 91, 96, 97, 102, 114 water scarcity, Bundelkhand region 215, 217–218; adequate rainfall/ irrigation 224; agriculture and

Index  285 livestock management 219–220; caste conflicts 220; coronavirus pandemic 221; crop loss 223, 224; demographic profile 219; development programmes 227, 227–231, 229, 229, 230, 230; drought recurrence 212, 214; geographical profile 218; human security and 214–217; inadequate agriculture production 213; landlords and poor farmers 220–221; poverty, hunger and malnutrition 221; river systems 220; socio-­ economic resilience 222, 222; source of livelihood 222–223, 223; suicide cases 219; surveyed households 224, 225; WHO/UNICEF 213 water security problems 83, 95, 96 watershed 40, 85, 113, 117, 118, 120 water storages 1 ‘Water Towers of Asia,’ 56 Water Users’ Association (WUA) 272 ‘water wars,’ 30, 39, 47, 60, 75, 76, 179

water withdrawal, South Asia 4, 4, 5 Wazih, S. 126n26 West Gandak Canal (WGC) 155, 156, 156, 159, 161 Wilder, M. 44 Wisner, B. 198 women, flood disasters: early warning phase 199, 199–200; empowerment 208–209; gendered labour demands 202–203; gender inequalities 198; need for real participation 207–208; need for sex-­segregated data 208; participation at national and international levels 205–207; rehabilitation and reconstruction 199, 201–202; relief operations 199, 200–201; role of media 208; search and rescue forces 199, 200; skilled women force 207; trafficking 203–205 World Bank 214 World Water Report 214 Yadav, Prerna 18, 236–257