A River Runs Through It

The Polavaram–Banakacherla project has rekindled old water wars between Andhra Pradesh and Telangana, with deeper currents of politics and power at play.

Telangana

Few things stir passions in India’s southern states as deeply as water. For decades, the sharing of river flows between Telangana and Andhra Pradesh has been the subject of fierce legal, technical and political wrangling. The latest flashpoint is the Polavaram–Banakacherla project, a grand scheme by Andhra Pradesh to divert floodwaters from the Godavari river to the parched Rayalaseema region and parts of coastal Andhra. The project, say its backers, is an act of hydraulic salvation. Its critics, chiefly Telangana’s Congress government, see it as an illegal siphoning of the state’s rightful resources.

On paper, the plan sounds benign. Andhra Pradesh’s irrigation minister, Nimmala Ramanaidu, insists that the project would tap only the surplus floodwaters of the Godavari - waters that would otherwise drain uselessly into the Bay of Bengal. According to his figures, over 3,000 thousand million cubic feet (TMC) of water flood into the sea each year. If Andhra Pradesh can catch a fraction of this excess, Rayalaseema’s parched fields might bloom.

But Telangana sees red. Its irrigation minister, N. Uttam Kumar Reddy, has accused Andhra Pradesh of trying to bulldoze its way past legal clearances and water-sharing norms enshrined in the Godavari Water Disputes Tribunal (GWDT) Award and the Andhra Pradesh Reorganisation Act of 2014. Chief Minister A. Revanth Reddy has gone a step further, threatening not only legal action but a full-fledged political campaign while accusing Andhra of attempting to divert 400 TMC of Godavari water to Krishna and Penna basins without due consent.

Congress-ruled Telangana’s rage is not only aimed at Andhra Pradesh, whose government is a BJP ally. Reddy also trained his guns at K. Chandrasekhar Rao (KCR), the former chief minister and head of the opposition Bharat Rashtra Samithi (BRS). In 2016, KCR himself told the river management’s Apex Council that surplus Godavari water, then estimated at 3,000 TMC, could be used to irrigate Rayalaseema. He even laid the foundation for the Banakacherla project. Now, as BRS leaders accuse the Congress of failing to resist Andhra’s designs, the Congress is accusing them of complicity.

All this exposes a darker truth: water politics in the two Telugu states is often less about the rivers than about who controls them. In the past, Telangana’s leaders justified their massive, questionably cleared schemes like the Kaleshwaram Lift Irrigation Project on similar grounds of surplus water. Andhra Pradesh is now echoing that same rationale. Each state blames the other for procedural short-cuts, while accusing New Delhi of partisanship or neglect.

The heart of the matter lies in the ambiguity surrounding ‘surplus’ waters. The Godavari, India’s second-longest river, is mighty in monsoon but fickle in lean months. Diverting floodwaters without affecting downstream allocations is an engineering challenge and a political minefield. Who gets to define what constitutes ‘surplus’? How much of it can be harnessed without disrupting flows elsewhere? These are questions that India’s outdated river tribunals and half-formed river boards have yet to answer with consistency.

The Centre, as always, is walking a tightrope. Telangana has already petitioned ministries including Jal Shakti, Finance and Environment and warned of legal escalation. Andhra, for its part, is banking on Chandrababu Naidu’s renewed proximity to the Modi government to fast-track permissions.

For Telangana, memories of historic water neglect during its decades under unified Andhra rule still sting. For Andhra, especially Rayalaseema, the project is an overdue attempt to redress regional imbalance within the state.

There is an urgent need for institutional reform. India’s river boards are essentially toothless. Until water-sharing agreements are periodically reviewed, transparently enforced and jointly monitored, each project becomes set to be a pretext for conflict.

The Polavaram–Banakacherla saga is about competing visions of justice and development in a climate-stressed India. As states scramble for every drop, the Union government must rise above parochial politics and insist on clear, enforceable mechanisms that prioritise long-term sustainability over short-term gain. If not, India’s rivers may continue to unite regions on the map but divide them in spirit.