Why Water Unrest Looks Different is Iran and in Central Asia?
Why Water Unrest Looks Different is Iran and in Central Asia?
Water is a critical, often-overlooked national security issue nowadays. World Bank data even shows that 40% of global freshwater demand is projected to exceed supply by the end of this decade. It can therefore be stated that it is not a problem to be neglected. Especially for certain parts of the globe, for instance in the Middle East and in Central Asia. And there are particularly vulnerable countries where the water issue itself is already a security threat. Namely Iran and Uzbekistan. But why does water unrest look so different in these countries?
Both countries, Iran and Uzbekistan, face severe water stress. Both are heavily exposed to climate change, decades-long inefficient water management, and demographic pressures. And yet, the water-related tensions and social discontent appear differently.
In Iran, scarcity fuels anger, it is not just a concern anymore. Over the past decade, many water-related issues have erupted into protests, here are a few examples. The drying of the Zayandeh River in Isfahan, protests in Khuzestan over water shortages, and the ecological collapse of Lake Urmia. In Iran, water scarcity has become a trigger for broader political unrest, and it often evolves into anti-government protests. The question arises, why? Because in Iran, water scarcity is perceived not only as an environmental disaster but also as a failure of governance. Large-scale dam projects, poorly managed irrigation systems, politically driven agricultural policies, and water transfers have heavily fueled public discontent lately. In provinces where ethnic minorities are dominantly concentrated, this issue also is added to identity politics and marginalization.
A recent development however shows the seriousness of the problem. The possibility of an evacuation of Tehran due to water shortages has been raised. By 2026, the water situation in the capital is chronic at risk. After six consecutive years of drought, rainfall in the last season fell dramatically below historical averages, while groundwater depletion continued to reduce long-term reserves. Reservoir levels in the capital are reportedly down by around 10–15%, and night-time pressure reductions became routine. President Pezeshkian’s warning that a prolonged drought could necessitate strict water quotas or even the temporary evacuation of parts of the capital of 10 million reflected more than alarmism. It highlighted a deeper structural failure: decades of overexploitation, dam-heavy water policy, inefficient agricultural use, and weak regulatory framework have left the country with limited buffers. Tehran’s vulnerability is therefore not just climatic, it is institutional. Water, therefore, becomes a symbol of mistaken centralization, and unaccountable decision-making.
What we experience in Uzbekistan on the other hand is completely different – of course, it’s not like there’s an abundance of water there, but the social perception is still very different. Uzbekistan’s water challenges are equally severe. The tragedy of the Aral Sea needs no introduction, it has been with us, and we have been hearing about it for decades. It remains one of the world’s most catastrophic environmental disasters. Since the Soviet period, agriculture – although the Central Asian country has made significant strides in this, a cotton cultivation – consumes vast volumes of water from the biggest rivers of the region, Amu Darya and Syr Darya. Climate change, which affects the country more than the global average, however, further exacerbates glacier melt and long-term supply risks.
If you visit the country’s largest cities, you may be quite surprised to find beautiful green spaces, fountains, and clean cars, despite the climatic conditions. The surface can however be misleading. Water unrest in Uzbekistan has been far more contained than in Iran. Several factors explain this difference.
First, Uzbekistan’s political system has historically maintained tighter control over public mobilization. Although reforms have accelerated under President Mirziyoyev, protest culture remains limited. Second, the state has actively framed water scarcity as a collective development challenge rather than a political failure. Infrastructure modernization, irrigation reform, and international cooperation have been emphasized in official narratives. Third, water management in Central Asia is inherently regional. Unlike Iran’s largely domestic water crisis, Uzbekistan’s water security depends on upstream countries such as Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan. This external dimension diffuses blame and shifts discourse toward interstate coordination rather than domestic confrontation.
It can be easily stated that scarcity is securitized but not politicized to the same extent. The contrast between Iran and Uzbekistan demonstrates a crucial lesson: water scarcity alone does not cause instability. Trust in the political leadership does, and what we can learn from the above example is that water can become a protest multiplier. Where state control is stronger and scarcity is framed as technical or regional, unrest is more likely to remain localized. This distinction matters beyond these two cases. Across the Middle East and Central Asia, climate stress will intensify. But whether water becomes a driver of instability depends less on rainfall patterns and more on political legitimacy, institutional capacity, and social resilience.
Author: Blanka Benkő-Kovács, advisor - LCTS, LUPS
Image source: Pexels