As the summer monsoon season battered South Asia with unrelenting rains, Pakistan’s Punjab province faced its most severe flooding in four decades, putting millions at risk and highlighting the region’s vulnerability to extreme weather. On August 28, 2025, officials sounded alarms over the fate of the Qadirabad barrage, a 1,000-metre-long concrete structure on the Chenab river, after torrential downpours and upstream water releases from India swelled the river far beyond its capacity. The specter of disaster loomed over the eastern towns of Chiniot and Hafizabad, home to more than 2.8 million people, as authorities scrambled to avert catastrophe.
"It is a crisis situation," a technical expert from Pakistan’s National Disaster Management Authority told Reuters, underscoring the gravity of the threat. The Qadirabad barrage serves as a critical linchpin in Punjab’s vast irrigation network, channeling water to the agricultural heartland that feeds half of Pakistan’s 240 million citizens. If the barrage were to fail, officials warned, the resulting floodwaters could submerge both towns and devastate the surrounding countryside.
Across the border, India and Pakistan—nuclear-armed neighbors with a fraught history—were both grappling with the same relentless monsoon. In Indian-administered Kashmir, at least 60 people lost their lives to floods and landslides in August alone. Pakistan’s national death toll from this season’s floods stood at 819 by the end of August, with 12 fatalities reported in Punjab province during the week of August 22-28, according to provincial minister Marriyum Aurangzeb. "As one nation, we will face this challenge together," Aurangzeb declared on the banks of the swollen Ravi river. "There is no need to panic."
The immediate crisis in Punjab was compounded by India’s release of excess water from overflowing dams. India routinely undertakes these releases as a humanitarian measure when reservoirs threaten to breach their limits, issuing advance warnings to Pakistan. This week alone, India sent three flood alerts—two for the Ravi and one for the Sutlej rivers—since August 24. These warnings, while intended to prevent surprise disasters, nonetheless stoked anxiety in Pakistan, where memories of past cross-border water disputes linger.
By the night of August 27, more than 900,000 cusecs of water—100,000 above the barrage’s designed capacity—were surging through the Qadirabad distribution point. (For context, a single cusec equals one cubic foot, or roughly 28 liters, per second.) The deluge inundated over 1,400 villages, forcing desperate measures. To stave off the collapse of the barrage, authorities made the tough call to deliberately blow up parts of the riverbank at two locations, diverting water onto nearby land before it could reach and potentially destroy the structure. The move, while flooding additional farmland, likely saved the towns and the barrage itself from total devastation.
By the afternoon of August 28, officials reported that the water level had dropped to around 754,966 cusecs, down from its overnight peak but still perilously high. "We have evaded the threat," a spokesperson for the provincial disaster management authority told Reuters. Yet, the sense of relief was tempered by the scale of damage already wrought. More than one million people had been evacuated from their homes in Punjab during the week, with over 210,000 villagers relocated from areas near the Ravi, Sutlej, and Chenab rivers. In scenes repeated across the province, residents like 26-year-old Nadeem Iqbal waded through chest-high water with children in tow. "We spent the whole night awake and frightened," Iqbal said. "Everyone was frightened. Kids cried. Women were worried. We were helpless."
The floods inundated hundreds of villages and submerged vital grain crops, disrupting the livelihoods of countless farmers in a region that produces much of Pakistan’s wheat, rice, and cotton. The economic toll, while still being tallied, is expected to be severe, compounding the country’s ongoing struggles with inflation and food security.
Officials and climate experts pointed to shifting weather patterns as the culprit behind this year’s extraordinary monsoon. According to Inam Haider Malik, head of Pakistan’s National Disaster Management Agency, multiple weather systems from the east, south, and west converged over Pakistan for the first time this season, amplifying rainfall and flooding. Planning Minister Ahsan Iqbal described climate change as "the new normal," but added, "But it isn’t unmanageable." The reference to climate change echoed the devastation of 2022, when unprecedented flash floods killed at least 1,000 people and destroyed swathes of infrastructure across the country.
On the Indian side of the border, the situation was similarly dire. Heavy rains in the Himalayan region triggered flash floods and landslides, filling rivers and reservoirs to the brink. By late August, however, forecasters expected the downpours to finally ease, with river levels in the Himalayas beginning to recede.
The crisis has also reignited long-standing tensions between India and Pakistan. Any flooding in Pakistan perceived as a result of Indian dam releases risks stoking nationalist sentiment and diplomatic friction. While India insists that its dam releases are strictly routine and accompanied by proper warnings, the history of water sharing between the two rivals is fraught with suspicion. New Delhi’s water resources ministry did not immediately respond to requests for comment from Reuters regarding the latest releases.
Despite the political undercurrents, the immediate focus on both sides of the border has been on rescue and relief. Pakistani authorities, working under immense pressure, have managed to keep the Qadirabad barrage intact and prevent a disaster that could have dwarfed even the tragic floods of recent years. The deliberate breaching of riverbanks, though controversial, was a calculated gamble that paid off—at least for now.
As the floodwaters slowly recede, the people of Punjab and neighboring regions are left to pick up the pieces. The scars of this year’s monsoon will linger long after the rivers return to their beds, serving as a stark reminder of the region’s vulnerability to climate extremes and the urgent need for better disaster preparedness. For families like Nadeem Iqbal’s, the memory of sleepless nights and the sight of submerged homes will not soon fade. The question for Pakistan—and indeed, for all of South Asia—is not whether such floods will return, but when, and how the region will adapt to the new climate reality.
