This article was contributed by the Korea Water Resources Corp. to mark the opening of the 2012 World River Forum in Daegu on Wednesday. ― Ed.


Fresh water, like air, is the most precious substance of all things on our Earth. Lacking fresh and temperate flowing water, we would be either red-hot like Venus, or frozen over like Mars. Water controls our every life, and forms the greater part of our human bodies. While we often forget it, humankind is a species whose destiny relates at all times to the availability of water, the water of our existence. And all other species on our planet are similarly dependent.

This water must, however, be fresh water, and therein lies the main problem, simply because almost all water on this planet is salt water, unusable for drinking or (in most cases) the irrigation of crops and plants. In fact, only 2.5 percent of Earth’s water is fresh water, but most of that is trapped in vast underground aquifers or in the polar ice-caps. It sounds unbelievable to all but climatic scientists, but only 0.01 percent of the world’s water supplies exists in our lakes and rivers.

Flowing fresh water ― that is, water that flows downstream as it captures recent rainfalls, snow-melt, and the spring-time melt of giant mountainous glaciers ― is vital to all existence, to environments, to cultures, even to nation-states. How would Egypt look without the Nile? Or London without the Thames? Or Rangoon without the Irrawaddy? Are not some of our greatest civilizations, in essence, “river civilizations”? Can you imagine Vienna without the Danube?

What are the threats to this blessed gift of water to our Earth? There are three in number, usually interconnected but easy to identify separately.

The first is international politics, that is, quarrels between states and peoples over control of the flow of the fresh-water streams. Up-river nations divert water to irrigation projects, boosting local agriculture, as Turkey is doing with its famous Ataturk Dam. But down-river nations like Syria and Iraq suffer from a diminished supply of fresh water, and are angered ― conflict is in the air. Antagonism may also occur if an up-river society discharges nasty or dangerous elements into the water flow, poisoning the waters of the down-stream peoples; the Netherlands, containing the lowest reaches of the great Rhine River, has suffered many examples of this trans-national contamination.

The second is totally different: It is due to the massive surge of global demand for fresh water. Around 1825, there were approximately 1 billion human beings on our planet, most drawing and using water in pre-industrial ways. Right now, we are approaching a world total of 7 billion people, with ever-higher daily demands, and with industries (cement, steel, silicon chips, hotels) that consume vast amounts of fresh water. The growth of the world economy since 1800, and the welcome growth of so many people’s standards of living, has been accompanied by an uncontrolled and disproportionate increase in the use of water. Each one of us now wastes many more gallons than did our grandparents. Even if there is no security threat to our water supplies, as suggested above, our total human demand for water is putting much more pressure upon supplies.

But ― and this is the third point ― what if the original supplies themselves are drying up? What if we can no longer assume a predictable flow of water through the rivers that mean so much to us, culturally, socially, but most of all, physically? By so many accounts across Asia, the crop season is shorter, because the temperatures are higher and the precipitation is lower. So many communities on the downside of the Himalayas report far less snow-melt; the April melt is no longer there, the February melt is the last of the season. Finally, there is the steady, insidious meltdown of the glaciers of the world, in particular the giant Tibetan Glacier that feeds so many of the great rivers of India, China, Myanmar and Vietnam. We are now talking about the futures of 3 billion people. And of societies that will react fiercely to their loss of water, and governments that may respond, foolishly rather than sensibly.

The future of rivers and of great powers matters, therefore, because it is about the future of our world. I give all the delegates to this River Forum my very best wishes. I know you will focus on very pressing local, management issues. But I hope that my remarks offer you a broader perspective.

The author is one of the world’s most respected and provocative historians. He is internationally known for his writings and commentaries on global economic, political and strategic issues. 

By Paul Kennedy

He is currently the J. Richardson Dilworth professor of History at Yale University and director of Yale’s International Security Program. He is a commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. ― Ed.