The Himalayas Can By No Means Become China’s Hydraulic Frontier
India has already received an equally sobering warning. In October 2023, a Glacial Lake Outburst Flood (GLOF) from South Lhonak Lake in Sikkim surged into the Teesta. ISRO satellite imagery showed that approximately 105 hectares of the lake drained away. The Government subsequently reported that the Teesta rose by 50-60 feet and breached the 1,200-MW Teesta-III project at Chungthang, swept away bridges, roads, Indian Army garrisons and caused devastation far downstream
The catastrophic flood along the Nepal-Tibet frontier on August 26, 2026, should become a turning point in Asian water diplomacy. The disaster struck the Bhote Koshi-Trishuli system and assessments point towards a glacier collapse and enormous ice-rock avalanche. By August 27, reportedly at least 359 people died across Nepal and China, with nearly 1,000 people missing. The flood and debris travelled far downstream, destroying settlements, border infrastructure and hydropower facilities. Its message is stark: The Himalayas are becoming increasingly unstable precisely when enormous engineering projects are being inserted into some of their most fragile terrain.
India has already received an equally sobering warning. In October 2023, a Glacial Lake Outburst Flood (GLOF) from South Lhonak Lake in Sikkim surged into the Teesta. ISRO satellite imagery showed that approximately 105 hectares of the lake drained away. The Government subsequently reported that the Teesta rose by 50-60 feet and breached the 1,200-MW Teesta-III project at Chungthang, swept away bridges, roads, Indian Army garrisons and caused devastation far downstream. Later assessments placed the death toll at 179.
These are not isolated accidents. The Hindu Kush Himalaya is undergoing profound climatic change. The Kathmandu based, eight-nation International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development (ICIMOD) found that glaciers disappeared 65 per cent faster during 2011–2020 than during the preceding decade; its 2026 assessment states that regional ice-loss rates have doubled since 2000. Floods, landslides, glacial-lake outbursts and destabilised mountain slopes must therefore increasingly be regarded as structural risks rather than exceptional events.
It is against this background that China has embarked upon perhaps the most audacious hydropower project ever attempted — the mega-project on the lower Yarlung Tsangpo in Tibet, the river that enters India as the Siang and eventually becomes the Brahmaputra before flowing into Bangladesh. Construction formally began in July 2025. Beijing says the project will comprise five cascade hydropower stations, costing US$168 billion and will generate 60 GW, nearly three times that of the Three Gorges project.
China undoubtedly has the right to generate renewable energy. But no upstream country should possess an unfettered right to transform a great transboundary river without meaningful downstream consultation. The strongest case against the project need not rely on exaggerated claims that China will simply “turn off” the Brahmaputra. The real dangers are serious enough: reservoirs can alter seasonal flows and sediment movement; filling and emergency releases can affect downstream conditions; and colossal infrastructure constructed amid earthquakes, landslides, glacial instability and extreme rainfall creates potentially catastrophic consequences.
Nor should China imagine that the danger begins only when the river enters India. The Great Bend of the Yarlung Tsangpo lies within an exceptionally young, unstable and seismically active mountain system. A massive landslide into a reservoir, earthquake, tunnel collapse or extreme glacial event could devastate Tibetan communities, project workers and Chinese infrastructure as well.
Indeed, there is an uncomfortable question here for Beijing itself: Who speaks for ordinary people living downstream of such projects inside Tibet? In 2024, UN human rights experts formally raised concerns over an alleged crackdown on Tibetans opposing the Kamtok/Gangtuo hydropower project on the Drichu/Jinsha River, citing issues including displacement, cultural destruction, environmental damage and restrictions on peaceful opposition. When mega-projects become strategic state priorities in an authoritarian system, affected communities possess far fewer avenues to question the risks imposed upon them.
The problem extends into Southeast Asia. China today operates 12 large mainstream dams on the upper Mekong/Lancang, together capable of storing more than 50 billion cubic metres of water. The Mekong Dam Monitor has documented changes in natural river behaviour and even reservoir filling without advance notification to downstream stakeholders.
Yet many of China’s smaller neighbours feel they have little option but caution — or silence. Laos has deep economic and infrastructure exposure to China; Cambodia remains heavily dependent upon Chinese investment and credit; Myanmar requires Chinese trade, investment and diplomatic space; Bangladesh has extensive commercial and defence relations with Beijing; while Nepal must continually balance geography and economic necessity. Bhutan's circumstances differ, but even it must negotiate a sensitive territorial dispute with a vastly larger China. Cambodia, for example, counts China as its largest creditor, while China remains Bangladesh’s principal source of military hardware.
Individually, these countries are vulnerable. Collectively, they need not be. This is where India must lead. India is the only regional country possessing the combination of population, economic scale, military capability, nuclear deterrence, geography and international partnerships necessary to stand up to China without becoming strategically subordinate to it. India's substantial trade dependence on China is a vulnerability to be progressively reduced — not a justification for silence. Nor should Chinese military power or its “wolf-warrior” diplomacy intimidate India into overlooking issues affecting millions of downstream citizens.
New Delhi should therefore initiate a Himalaya–Mekong Water Security Partnership comprising Nepal, Bhutan, Bangladesh, Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia and Vietnam. It should seek advance notification of major projects, independent cumulative environmental and seismic assessments, real-time hydrological and reservoir data, satellite monitoring, coordinated flood-warning mechanisms and mandatory consultation before reservoir filling or exceptional releases. Transboundary rivers, after all, cannot be governed by unilateral upstream decisions.
China may intimidate, economically influence or ignore one vulnerable neighbour. It would find it extraordinarily difficult to disregard a coordinated regional grouping extending from the Himalayas to the Mekong and provided strategic backbone by India. Faced collectively, Beijing would have little option but to exercise greater restraint.
Sikkim in 2023 and Nepal-Tibet in 2026 have already delivered the warnings. Rivers, glaciers, earthquakes and flood waves recognise neither borders nor great-power ambitions. The Tibetan ice and water cannot be allowed to become China’s private hydraulic frontier. Shared rivers create shared risks — and Asia must now demand shared responsibility.
Lt Gen. Pradeep C. Nair is former DG Assam Rifles