International security discussions often focus on traditional hard threats such as military aggression, nuclear weapons and economic coercion. But some of the future’s most dangerous flashpoints may emerge from something more basic: access to water.
Even in today’s interconnected world, with international treaties designed to foster cooperation, water scarcity is fuelling tensions in Central Asia. In particular, the Taliban’s construction of the 285-kilometre Qosh Tepa Canal is emerging as a particular pressure point.
The canal, now under construction in northern Afghanistan, will divert water from the Amu Darya river that flows from Afghanistan into Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan. Once completed, it is expected to divert between 20 percent and 30 percent of the river’s total flow—a severe blow to downstream states.
Uzbekistan, with a rapidly growing population of more than 39 million, relies heavily on the Amu Darya for irrigation and food security. Turkmenistan is also highly dependent on the river to sustain its agricultural production. The potential loss of water challenges both nations’ economies, livelihoods and long-term stability.
Central Asia’s water challenges are not new. The region is still grappling with the consequences of the shrinking of the Aral Sea, one of the world’s worst man-made environmental disasters. In the 1960s, Soviet irrigation policies diverted massive volumes of water from the Syr Darya and Amu Darya rivers for cotton production. This overuse transformed what was once the world’s fourth-largest lake into a salty desert, devastating ecosystems and local communities.
Climate change is now amplifying these stresses. Summers in the region are hotter than ever, with record-breaking heatwaves and prolonged droughts. Glaciers in upstream countries are melting rapidly, leading to a long-term decline in meltwater flow into the river, which in turn is contributing to growing water scarcity. These factors mean every drop of water in the Amu Darya is more valuable, and contested, than ever.
Against this backdrop, the Qosh Tepa Canal risks being the final straw. Residents in southern Uzbekistan report that they are already experiencing droughts worsened by climate change and are unable to grow their crops due to water shortages. The operationalisation of the Qosh Tepa Canal may leave many with no choice but to migrate elsewhere in the country, as even access to drinking water may be limited.
The Taliban has been clear that Afghanistan, as an upstream country, has the right to use the Amu Darya’s water. It argues that diverting a share of the river is essential for its own agricultural needs and economic development.
Uzbekistan, the state likely to be hit hardest by the canal, has so far opted for quiet diplomacy. Officials have engaged in low-profile talks with the Taliban, seeking to negotiate a compromise or technical adjustments to the project. However, public frustration is growing inside Uzbekistan, where many view the government’s approach as too passive. The poor quality of the canal’s construction is only adding to concern. Reports suggest the project relies on limited technical expertise and inadequate engineering standards, raising fears that large amounts of diverted water could be wasted or cause unintended environmental damage.
One of the thorniest aspects of the dispute is the absence of a binding legal framework between Afghanistan and its neighbours. The Taliban is not recognised as the legitimate government of Afghanistan and is not a signatory to key international water treaties. Central Asian countries currently manage transboundary water issues under the 1992 Almaty Agreement, which allocates river resources among the former Soviet republics. The Taliban is not a party to that agreement. Nor is Afghanistan a signatory to the UN Watercourses Convention, which provides guidelines for the equitable and sustainable use of shared rivers.
Without a formal treaty or international recognition, Central Asian states have reason to distrust the Taliban’s incentive to honour any commitments reached in negotiations. This legal vacuum makes cooperative management far more difficult.
Yet Central Asian states are not only concerned about water. Uzbekistan is particularly anxious about the potential spillover of extremist ideology from Afghanistan. Many remember the Taliban’s past ties to radical groups active in the region.
Uzbekistan’s population is young, and for decades after the Soviet collapse, the state tightly controlled religion. This has created a social environment in which religious narratives—including extremist interpretations—can quickly gain traction if not carefully managed.
If Uzbekistan takes a harder stance on the Qosh Tepa Canal, there are fears the Taliban could retaliate through grey zone tactics: covertly supporting radical influences, disrupting community cohesion and challenging the secular governance of Central Asian states. This risk complicates the already delicate water dispute.
Despite these risks, some view water as a non-negotiable resource. If the canal is completed as planned, diverting 20 percent of the Amu Darya’s flow, Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan will have to make difficult decisions. One option would be to overhaul their water management and agricultural systems, shifting away from thirsty crops such as cotton and investing in modern irrigation technologies. But such changes take years and significant resources. The other option would be to apply greater political pressure on the Taliban—a move that risks escalating tensions and triggering the very instability they hope to avoid.
The likely outcome may be a mix of both strategies, but neither will fully remove the underlying risk. The Amu Darya’s water is finite, and as populations grow and climate impacts worsen, the pressure will only intensify.
In this sense, the Qosh Tepa Canal is a test of Central Asia’s ability to manage vital shared resources under conditions of political uncertainty, environmental stress and mutual distrust. In this dilemma, the real question is not if tensions will escalate, but when. Without cooperative solutions, transparent management and perhaps international mediation, water scarcity in Central Asia—driven by the Qosh Tepa Canal—could trigger a regional crisis.