In the Middle East, water has always been a matter of survival. For centuries, civilizations have thrived or vanished depending on their ability to capture and distribute this most precious of resources. But today, a region historically shaped by ingenuity and adaptation in the face of scarcity is confronting a water crisis more severe, more complex, and more politically charged than ever before. According to The Thirst for Power: Water and Politics in the Middle East, a new report from the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS), water insecurity is no longer a challenge on the horizon—it is an accelerating emergency. And by 2050, every country in the Middle East and North Africa is projected to suffer from “extremely high” water stress.
The report paints a stark picture. Rivers that once sustained empires—the Tigris, the Euphrates, the Jordan—are now trickles of their former selves. Groundwater, long treated as an invisible insurance policy, is vanishing at an alarming rate. Even the legendary Dead Sea has dropped by the height of a seven-story building since the year 2000. The implications are vast: environmental degradation, food insecurity, economic stagnation, and the looming threat of social unrest. But as the report makes painfully clear, these outcomes are not inevitable byproducts of nature—they are the result of political choices.
Water in the Middle East is deeply political. While technological solutions abound—from desalination to water recycling—their implementation often founders on the rocks of governance failure, corruption, and conflict. Many governments in the region continue to treat water not as a finite resource but as a political tool: subsidized to secure loyalty, mismanaged to maintain elite privileges, or withheld to punish rivals. Reforms, when they are attempted, are frequently delayed or diluted out of fear that pricing or regulation will trigger popular backlash. In some cases, these fears are justified. For decades, citizens have been told water is a right, not a commodity. But as rivers dry and aquifers collapse, that narrative has become dangerously outdated.
While technological solutions abound—from desalination to water recycling—their implementation often founders on the rocks of governance failure, corruption, and conflict
This CSIS report does not dwell in abstraction. Instead, it anchors its analysis in four deeply researched case studies—northeastern Syria, the Yemeni highlands, southern Iraq, and Jordan—each revealing how water insecurity is both a symptom and a driver of political fragility. These are not just technical case studies—they are windows into the lived reality of millions who face the daily consequences of poor governance, failed diplomacy, and regional instability.
In northeastern Syria and Yemen, for example, non-state armed groups control large swaths of territory where international law, basic services, and long-term planning are all but absent. Humanitarian organizations attempt to plug the gaps—drilling wells, trucking water, handing out pumps—but these are emergency measures, not sustainable systems. And while the international community often waits for peace agreements or political transitions before engaging with water reform, the CSIS report argues that water must be part of any future settlement—not an afterthought, but a core component of stabilization and recovery.
Iraq’s story, by contrast, is not one of collapse but of decay. Once blessed with two of the most storied rivers in history, the country now finds its southern regions choked by salinity and environmental decline. Centuries-old irrigation methods, combined with decades of corruption and mismanagement, have rendered water abundant only in memory. Southern cities like Basra, where the consequences are most acute, face rising tensions as water becomes both unsafe and unaffordable. The report’s authors argue that while national-level reforms are politically fraught, local and municipal initiatives—especially those focused on drinking water networks and urban adaptation—could offer a path forward.
Jordan represents a different kind of test case: a relatively stable state battered by relentless external pressures. As one of the driest countries on Earth, it has long been aware of its water vulnerability. Yet waves of refugees, stalled regional cooperation, and chronic underinvestment have left the country teetering. The report offers a cautious roadmap, emphasizing the importance of gradual, transparent reforms and local empowerment. Crucially, it suggests that Jordan must focus on building internal resilience rather than waiting for elusive breakthroughs in regional water diplomacy.
What unites all these case studies is the recognition that water insecurity is not just a technical challenge—it is a deeply embedded political problem. And because it is political, it demands solutions that engage with power, incentives, and institutional dynamics
What unites all these case studies is the recognition that water insecurity is not just a technical challenge—it is a deeply embedded political problem. And because it is political, it demands solutions that engage with power, incentives, and institutional dynamics. The authors of The Thirst for Power, Water and Politics in the Middle East do not propose silver bullets. Instead, they outline politically feasible interventions that start with understanding who holds influence, who benefits from the status quo, and how to shift those incentives. In some cases, this may involve co-opting powerful farmers or industries into new water regimes. In others, it means designing small-scale projects that deliver tangible benefits to communities while building trust in reform.
Perhaps the most urgent insight of the report is its rejection of waiting. Policymakers and international actors have often viewed water reform as something to be deferred—until after a conflict ends, until after an election, until stability returns. But that stability may never come, or if it does, it may arrive too late to avert catastrophe. In many places, water is already the crisis. And by postponing difficult decisions, governments and donors alike are compounding the problem.
Recommendations are unique to each case but include ways to:
- Incentivize, coopt, or punish those who might spoil needed water usage reforms—from farmers to industries. A project suggested for southern Iraq seeks to provide clean and affordable water with a return on investment, while incorporating potential spoilers.
- Shift transboundary waters from a zero-sum game to mutually beneficial and sustainable agreements.
- Improve diplomatic efforts to encourage more powerful upstream neighbors to accommodate downstream actors.
- Overcome the need for multi-country projects when heightened tensions in the region preclude reliable cooperation. The Jordan chapter delves into the reasons why multi-country projects have rarely come to fruition and what the country should do about it.
- Develop and prioritize specific projects that would improve water and food security, as well as health outcomes, immediately. Authors for the Yemen and Syria chapters recommend several small-scale projects that could have an impact on communities and peacebuilding.
- Rekindle trust between communities and their governments through transparent communication about the need for and implementation of reforms. A case in Jordan involving raised water tariffs suggests that gradual, transparent reforms can pay off.
Water, the authors remind us, is not just another resource. It is fundamental to life, to dignity, to peace. And in the Middle East, it is becoming more scarce, more contested, and more unequal by the day. But scarcity alone does not create conflict—mismanagement does. Poor governance, unchecked corruption, and the failure to make hard choices are what turn droughts into disasters. If the region is to survive this crisis, let alone emerge stronger from it, it must begin to view water as more than an environmental or humanitarian issue. It must be seen as central to political reform, national security, and regional cooperation.
The report does not offer easy answers, but it offers a necessary reframing. It reminds us that while the Middle East is running out of water, it is not yet out of time. What happens next depends not just on science or engineering, but on leadership—and the courage to act before the taps run dry.
