On the night between May 6 and May 7, 2025, as Indian missiles struck nine designated locations across Pakistani territory and Pakistan-occupied Kashmir during Operation Sindoor, Pakistan’s military spokesman Lt. General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry made a claim that would add an entirely new dimension to the conflict. India, he alleged, had targeted the Noseri Dam near the Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Project, a 969-megawatt facility that ranks as Pakistan’s largest run-of-river power station in PoK and one of the most expensive infrastructure projects in the country’s history. The accusation transformed the crisis from a counter-terror operation into a debate about civilian infrastructure, international law, and the expanding boundaries of warfare between nuclear-armed states.

India’s response came swiftly and categorically. Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri, briefing the media on May 8, called Pakistan’s claim “an absolute and complete fabrication, and a blatant lie.” He reiterated that all Indian strikes had targeted terrorist infrastructure and that no civilian or energy facilities had been selected. Between these two narratives, separated by geography, classification, and the fog of a live military conflict, lies one of the most consequential questions of the 2025 crisis. Did the Neelum-Jhelum facility sustain damage from Indian strikes, from collateral effects of nearby operations, or from pre-existing structural failures that Pakistan attributed to Indian fire? The answer carries implications not just for the bilateral relationship but for how future conflicts between nuclear powers will treat civilian energy infrastructure.

The Neelum-Jhelum case is particularly complex because the plant was already non-operational when the May 2025 strikes occurred. A headrace tunnel fault had shut down the entire facility in May 2024, and repair work costing billions of rupees remained unfinished by the time of Operation Sindoor. The damage claim therefore layers conflict-related destruction onto pre-existing structural failure, creating an almost impossible verification challenge. This article examines the plant’s technical specifications, the events of May 6-7, the competing narratives, the available evidence, the international humanitarian law framework, and why the Neelum-Jhelum case may set a precedent that extends far beyond this single conflict.

Background and Triggers

The Neelum-Jhelum controversy cannot be understood without tracing two converging timelines: the twenty-six-year arc of India-Pakistan confrontation that culminated in Operation Sindoor, and the troubled operational history of the power plant itself.

The immediate trigger for Operation Sindoor was the Pahalgam tourist massacre of April 22, 2025, when five gunmen affiliated with The Resistance Front killed 26 tourists in the Kashmir Valley. India’s Cabinet Committee on Security met within hours and initiated a fourteen-day escalation sequence that moved from diplomatic severance to economic sanctions to, finally, military strikes. The complete operational timeline of those fourteen days shows a deliberate calibration at each stage, with the final decision to strike arriving after Pakistan failed to take any action against the identified perpetrators.

The 23-minute strike campaign on the night of May 6-7 targeted nine locations that India identified as terrorist training camps, command centers, and weapons depots belonging to Jaish-e-Mohammed and Lashkar-e-Taiba. Indian Defence Minister Rajnath Singh provided a list of targets during his post-strike briefing, and none of them included any civilian energy infrastructure. The strikes employed Rafale jets armed with SCALP cruise missiles, Sukhoi Su-30MKIs carrying SPICE guided bombs, and naval vessels firing BrahMos supersonic missiles, a weapons arsenal designed for precision engagement of hardened targets rather than area bombardment.

Pakistan’s response to the strikes included both formal military retaliation and a public communications campaign. Lt. General Chaudhry’s media briefing on May 7 served both functions, announcing Pakistan’s counter-strikes (including claims of shooting down five Indian jets that India denied) and alleging civilian targets. The Neelum-Jhelum claim was embedded in a broader accusation that India had struck three mosques, multiple residential areas, and the hydropower facility. India categorically denied every civilian target claim, with Foreign Secretary Misri pointing out that Pakistan had conducted state funerals with military honors for the casualties, a practice inconsistent with civilian deaths.

The second timeline, the plant’s own troubled history, begins in the 1980s. The Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Project was conceived as a strategic response to India’s Kishanganga project upstream on the same river system. Both nations recognized that the Neelum River’s waters, contested under the Indus Waters Treaty framework, represented not just energy potential but a geopolitical resource. Pakistan fast-tracked the project partly to establish a claim on Neelum waters before India’s Kishanganga diversion could reduce downstream flows. This competition over water rights added a layer of strategic sensitivity to the plant that would become relevant when both nations went to war in 2025.

The Kishanganga factor is central to understanding why the Neelum-Jhelum plant carries such strategic weight for Pakistan. India’s Kishanganga Hydroelectric Project, located upstream on the same Neelum River (which India calls the Kishanganga), diverts 58.4 cubic meters per second of river water to generate 330 megawatts of electricity before discharging it into a Jhelum tributary at Bonar Nalla. Pakistan estimated that this upstream diversion would reduce Neelum flows into Pakistani territory by approximately 21 percent, cutting the Neelum-Jhelum plant’s power generation potential by roughly 10 percent. In 2010, Pakistan formally raised a dispute under the Indus Waters Treaty, taking the matter to the Permanent Court of Arbitration in The Hague.

The arbitration tribunal delivered a partial award in February 2013, ruling that India could divert water for the Kishanganga project but imposing a minimum environmental flow requirement. Pakistan accepted the ruling reluctantly, and the Kishanganga project became operational on May 19, 2018, just months before the Neelum-Jhelum plant achieved its own full commissioning in August 2018. The near-simultaneous start of both facilities created a direct competition for the same river’s water, with Pakistan’s downstream plant permanently affected by India’s upstream diversion. This water-rights contest transformed the Neelum-Jhelum facility from a purely domestic infrastructure project into a symbol of Pakistan’s vulnerability to Indian water control.

Construction began in 2008 after a Chinese consortium, CGGC-CMEC (China Gezhouba Group Company and China National Machinery Import and Export Corporation), won the contract in July 2007. The project was originally estimated to cost approximately $935 million, though an earlier 1989 appraisal had placed the figure at just $167 million. By completion, the budget had ballooned to roughly PKR 500 billion (approximately $5 billion at 2018 exchange rates), making it one of the most expensive hydropower projects per megawatt in Pakistan’s history. The cost escalation reflected a cascade of problems: geological challenges that required tunnel-boring machines to supplement conventional drill-and-blast excavation, seismic design revisions following the devastating October 2005 Kashmir earthquake that measured 7.6 on the Richter scale and killed over 87,000 people, contractor disputes between the Chinese consortium and Pakistani management, and repeated funding shortfalls that halted construction for months at a time. In December 2014, a wall collapse near the diversion tunnel’s intake killed four workers, including a Chinese engineer, underscoring the hazardous conditions at the construction site.

The Plant and Its Specifications

Understanding what may or may not have been damaged requires understanding what the Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Project actually is, because it is not a conventional dam-and-powerhouse arrangement. The facility is more accurately described as a water diversion system, a run-of-river scheme that captures water from the Neelum River at Nauseri (approximately 41 kilometers upstream of Muzaffarabad) and channels it through an extensive underground tunnel system to a powerhouse on the Jhelum River at Chattar Kalas (approximately 22 kilometers downstream of Muzaffarabad).

The Noseri Dam, the component Pakistan specifically alleged was targeted, is a 60-meter-tall, 125-meter-long composite gravity structure at the intake point. It holds a pondage reservoir with a total capacity of 8 million cubic meters, of which 2.8 million cubic meters constitutes peak storage. This is modest by large-dam standards, and the dam’s primary function is not water storage but water diversion. It captures up to 280 cubic meters per second of Neelum River flow and redirects it into the headrace tunnel system.

The tunnel system is the engineering centerpiece. A 48-kilometer headrace tunnel, the first 15.1 kilometers of which runs as twin tunnels before merging into a single bore, carries diverted water southeast under the Jhelum River at a depth of approximately 380 meters beneath the riverbed. This underwater crossing was one of the most technically challenging aspects of the construction. Two tunnel boring machines, deployed in February 2013, supplemented conventional drill-and-blast methods to excavate the underground passages.

At the terminus of the headrace tunnel, water enters a surge chamber containing a 341-meter-tall surge shaft (designed to prevent water hammer in the system) and an 820-meter surge tunnel. From the surge chamber, four steel penstocks, each 118 meters long with a 3.8-meter diameter, feed water to four Francis turbine generators in an underground powerhouse. Each turbine has a rated capacity of 242.25 megawatts, producing a total installed capacity of 969 megawatts. The gross head of the project is 420 meters, and the plant was designed to generate approximately 5,150 gigawatt-hours of electricity annually.

The powerhouse itself sits deep underground, a design choice driven by both geological conditions and the recognition that surface infrastructure in the Line of Control region faces military vulnerability. The underground location means the turbines, generators, and primary electrical systems are effectively shielded from aerial attack. The dam at Nauseri, the intake structures, the de-sander units, and the surface-level hydraulic protection systems, however, remain exposed.

Pakistan completed the project on August 14, 2018, when the fourth and final unit synchronized with the national grid and the plant reached its rated 969-megawatt capacity. The date was symbolically chosen to coincide with Pakistan’s Independence Day, and Prime Minister Imran Khan’s government celebrated the commissioning as a national achievement. On at least a few occasions, the plant reportedly exceeded its rated capacity, reaching approximately 1,040 megawatts, a rare achievement in hydroelectric engineering that engineers attributed to favorable river flow conditions.

By 2025, the plant had contributed an estimated 19.562 billion units of clean energy to Pakistan’s national grid, underscoring its importance to a country that struggles with chronic electricity shortages. At full operation, the Neelum-Jhelum plant accounted for approximately 3 to 4 percent of Pakistan’s total installed electricity generation capacity. For Pakistan-occupied Kashmir specifically, the percentage was substantially higher because the region’s limited industrial base means its share of the national grid allocation is small, and local generation carries outsized importance for civilian quality of life.

The operational economics of the plant deserved scrutiny even before its breakdowns. The power purchase agreement between the Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Company and the Central Power Purchasing Agency established a provisional tariff on a take-and-pay basis. The levelized tariff was set at approximately PKR 13.50 per unit for 30 years, a rate that reflected the massive capital investment and the government’s desire to spread costs over the facility’s operational lifetime. Compared to Pakistan’s thermal generation costs, which fluctuate with international fuel prices, the hydroelectric rate was competitive. But the rate was predicated on continuous generation over three decades, and every day of shutdown eroded the economic viability that justified the PKR 500 billion investment.

The plant’s total construction cost, estimated at PKR 500 billion, translates to approximately $4.23 million per installed megawatt. This is substantially higher than comparable projects in the region: the proposed Dasu Hydropower Project carries an estimated unit cost of $2.25 million per megawatt, while the Diamer-Basha Dam is estimated at $2.48 million per megawatt, and the Lower Palas Valley project at approximately $1.66 million per megawatt. The cost overrun reflects the engineering complexity, the volatile security environment along the Line of Control, the geological challenges of tunneling through the seismically active Lesser Himalayas, and what multiple Pakistani parliamentary investigations have identified as poor project management and inadequate initial design work by the original Norwegian consultant, Norconsult.

Understanding these specifications matters for the damage assessment because different components have vastly different vulnerability profiles. The underground powerhouse and tunnel system are essentially immune to aerial strikes. The surface dam, intake structures, de-sander units, and hydraulic protection systems at Nauseri are not. Any damage assessment must distinguish between these components and evaluate whether reported damage is consistent with the types of munitions India deployed during Operation Sindoor or with other causes.

The Night of May 6-7 2025

The timeline of events at and near the Neelum-Jhelum facility during the night of May 6-7 must be reconstructed from Pakistani military statements, media reports, and the broader operational sequence of Operation Sindoor, because independent access to the site was impossible during active hostilities.

According to Pakistan’s Inter-Services Public Relations directorate, Indian shelling began targeting the Nauseri area at approximately 1:15 AM on May 7. Pakistani security sources elaborated that the intake structure of the Noseri Dam on the Neelum River was targeted at approximately 2:00 AM. The shelling, according to WAPDA’s subsequent damage assessment, continued for approximately six hours, until 7:15 AM. Lt. General Chaudhry stated during his media briefing that the attack “damaged a part of the dam’s structure.”

Security sources provided more specific details to Pakistani media outlets. The intake gates of the de-sander unit were reportedly damaged. The hydraulic protection unit of the dam’s hydraulic system was also reportedly struck. An ambulance stationed at the site was partially damaged during the bombardment. WAPDA Chairperson Engineer Lt. General (retired) Sajjad Ghani visited the Nauseri site on May 9 to assess the damage firsthand. He was accompanied by the Acting Member (Power) of WAPDA and the CEO of Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Company, Muhammad Arfan Miana, along with the chief engineer and project director and the chief engineer of operations and maintenance.

During this inspection, the team was briefed on what was described as “significant damage caused by the Indian shelling.” The specific components identified as damaged included the de-sander intake gates, which are the filtration mechanisms that remove sediment from diverted river water before it enters the headrace tunnel, and the hydraulic protection unit, which manages pressure regulation within the dam’s water management system.

What WAPDA did not detail, and what external observers could not independently verify, was the extent to which this damage affected the dam’s structural integrity. A de-sander intake gate, while important for operational function, is not a structural component of the dam itself. Damage to the hydraulic protection system, depending on severity, could range from superficial equipment destruction to compromise of the dam’s ability to manage water flows safely. Without independent engineering assessment, the specific implications of the reported damage remain uncertain.

It is worth noting what the damage reports do not allege. No Pakistani source claimed that the dam wall itself was breached, that the reservoir had been compromised, that flooding had resulted, or that downstream communities faced immediate danger from dam failure. The allegations center on ancillary infrastructure at the intake point, not catastrophic structural damage. This distinction matters significantly for both the IHL analysis and the assessment of whether the damage was the result of deliberate targeting or proximity effects from strikes on other locations.

Lt. General Chaudhry’s briefing contextualized the Neelum-Jhelum allegation within a broader claim that India had struck six locations during the night, including mosques in Ahmedpur East and Muridke where, he alleged, women and children were killed. By embedding the infrastructure damage claim within a larger narrative of civilian targeting, Chaudhry maximized its diplomatic impact. Each individual allegation reinforced the others: if India had struck mosques, it was plausible that it had also struck a dam; if it had struck a dam, the claims about mosques gained credibility. The integrated communications strategy was designed to create a composite picture of indiscriminate Indian warfare, even though each individual claim required separate verification.

The timing of the damage report is also analytically significant. The initial 23-minute precision strike campaign occurred in the early hours of May 7, employing the advanced guided munitions that India had described. Pakistan’s retaliatory shelling began almost immediately and continued for days, with Indian counter-battery fire responding to Pakistani positions. The six-hour shelling window that WAPDA described at the Nauseri site (1:15 AM to 7:15 AM) encompasses both the precision strike phase and the initial artillery exchange phase. Distinguishing between damage caused by each phase requires forensic evidence, crater analysis, and fragment identification that has never been publicly presented by either side.

The broader operational geography further complicates attribution. The Nauseri intake site sits approximately 41 kilometers upstream of Muzaffarabad, the capital of Pakistan-occupied Kashmir. The Line of Control runs through the mountains northeast of the site, and forward military positions from both armies dot the terrain. During the artillery exchanges that followed Operation Sindoor, both sides fired hundreds of rounds along this border sector. The possibility that artillery rounds overshot their intended targets, fell short, or were directed at military positions near the intake site cannot be excluded without detailed ballistic analysis of the damage patterns at Nauseri.

The Nauseri dam site sits near the Line of Control, and the broader Muzaffarabad region was within the operational theater of the 2025 conflict. Pakistani artillery positions, Indian artillery targets, and the general geography of the border confrontation meant that multiple weapons systems were firing in the region throughout the night. The possibility that shelling directed at military positions near the Line of Control produced incidental damage to infrastructure in the Nauseri area cannot be excluded.

India’s Categorical Denial

India’s response to the Neelum-Jhelum allegations was unequivocal and delivered at the highest diplomatic level. Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri, during his comprehensive media briefing on May 8, addressed the claim directly. His language left no room for ambiguity: “This is an absolute and complete fabrication, and a blatant lie.” He stated that all Indian strikes during Operation Sindoor had targeted terrorist infrastructure and that no civilian targets, including energy facilities, had been selected.

Misri’s briefing went further, providing a framework for understanding India’s targeting methodology that was designed to preempt exactly the type of infrastructure-targeting allegation Pakistan was making. He emphasized that targets had been identified through intelligence, carefully selected for their connection to cross-border terrorism, and engaged with precision munitions designed to minimize collateral effects. He reiterated a phrase that became central to India’s post-strike messaging: “Our response has been targeted, precise, controlled and measured. No military targets have been selected. Only terrorist infrastructure in Pakistan has been hit.” The specific choice of “no military targets” was noteworthy because it implied that India had deliberately avoided even Pakistani military installations, let alone civilian infrastructure, a claim of extreme restraint that, if true, would make the targeting of a hydropower facility deeply inconsistent with the overall strike philosophy.

Misri also situated India’s denial within the broader context of Pakistan’s credibility deficit on terrorism-related claims. He cited Pakistan’s cooperation record on previous investigations, including the 2008 Mumbai attacks and the 2016 Pathankot attack, arguing that despite India providing extensive evidence of Pakistani terrorist involvement in both cases, Islamabad had “consistently stonewalled all efforts to move the investigation along.” He went further, suggesting that “there is reason to believe that Pakistan uses the evidence that we provide only to cover its tracks, and in fact defend the terrorists who we are looking for, and obstruct the path of investigation.” This framing was designed to establish that Pakistan had a pattern of dishonesty in bilateral interactions, making its infrastructure-damage claims less credible by association.

Misri also addressed a broader pattern of Pakistani claims that India rejected, including allegations that mosques and residential areas had been struck. On the question of whether the casualties were civilians, as Pakistan alleged, or militants, as India maintained, Misri pointed to the funerals Pakistan conducted for the deceased. He observed that the coffins were draped in Pakistani flags and that state honors were accorded, with the Pakistani Army and ISI in attendance. “It’s odd that the funerals of civilians are carried out with the coffins being draped in Pakistani flags, and state honors being accorded,” Misri noted. “As far as we are concerned, the individuals eliminated at these facilities were terrorists. Giving terrorists state funerals may be a practice in Pakistan. It doesn’t seem to make much sense to us.” The observation was both diplomatically pointed and substantively relevant: state funerals with military honors are not typically accorded to civilian infrastructure workers or bystanders, and the practice implied that the deceased held significance for the security establishment.

Misri also issued a warning that elevated the Neelum-Jhelum dispute from a factual question to a strategic red line. If Pakistan was using the Neelum-Jhelum claim as a “pretext” for targeting Indian civilian infrastructure, he stated, then Pakistan would be “entirely responsible for the consequences that will undoubtedly follow.” This warning underscored India’s concern that the infrastructure damage narrative was not merely a public relations exercise but potentially a casus belli for retaliatory strikes against Indian dams or power facilities. The Kishanganga project, located upstream on the same river, and several other Indian hydroelectric installations near the Line of Control represented obvious retaliatory targets if Pakistan chose to escalate the infrastructure dimension of the conflict.

India’s denial rested on several implicit arguments worth examining separately. The weapons systems deployed during the 23-minute strike window were precision-guided munitions with GPS and inertial navigation, not unguided artillery. SCALP cruise missiles have a circular error probable measured in single-digit meters. BrahMos supersonic missiles carry terminal-guidance seekers designed for ship-sized targets at ranges exceeding 300 kilometers. SPICE guided bombs use electro-optical scene-matching that compares real-time imagery with pre-loaded target imagery. These weapons are designed for specific, pre-programmed targets, and an accidental strike on a hydropower facility would require a guidance failure of significant magnitude, essentially the weapon’s entire navigation system malfunctioning and the munition landing kilometers from its intended target.

The Indian government did not, however, address the possibility that subsequent artillery exchanges, as opposed to the initial 23-minute strike campaign, might have produced incidental damage near the Nauseri site. This omission is analytically significant. Artillery fire, unlike precision-guided munitions, follows ballistic trajectories with larger error margins. A 155-millimeter howitzer round at maximum range has a circular error probable measured in tens of meters, not single digits. The distinction between the precision strike phase and the subsequent artillery phase of the conflict is analytically important. Pakistan’s retaliatory shelling of Indian towns like Poonch demonstrated that both sides employed area-effect weapons during the conflict’s artillery phases, and such weapons operating near the Line of Control could plausibly have produced infrastructure damage at Nauseri without any deliberate intent to target the facility.

The Deliberate-versus-Collateral Debate

The central analytical question is whether the Neelum-Jhelum facility was deliberately targeted, collaterally damaged, or experienced effects unrelated to the conflict that Pakistan attributed to Indian fire. Each interpretation carries different legal, strategic, and political implications.

The case for deliberate targeting, as presented by Pakistan, rests on the assertion that India was pursuing a broader water-warfare strategy. India had suspended the Indus Waters Treaty in the days following the Pahalgam attack. Indian authorities had begun flushing silt at dams in the Kashmir Valley. Water flow through the Chenab River into Pakistan had been reduced by approximately 90 percent. In this context, Pakistan argues, striking the Neelum-Jhelum facility was consistent with a pattern of weaponizing water resources. The broader Indian strategy of water weaponization against Pakistan, including actions at the Baglihar Dam and the Kishanganga project, provides a framework for interpreting the Neelum-Jhelum claim as part of a deliberate campaign.

Lt. General Chaudhry explicitly connected the Neelum-Jhelum allegation to the water-weaponization narrative during his May 7 briefing. His rhetorical questions about whether international norms and war laws permit targeting water reserves, dams, and hydropower structures of another country were designed to frame the damage as part of a deliberate Indian strategy to undermine Pakistan’s water and energy security. The framing was effective: it transformed the Neelum-Jhelum from a single-site damage report into evidence for a systematic campaign.

The case for collateral damage, rather than deliberate targeting, rests on geography and the nature of the conflict’s artillery phase. The Nauseri site sits within kilometers of the Line of Control. During the multi-day conflict that followed the initial 23-minute strike campaign, both Indian and Pakistani artillery engaged targets along the LoC. The Poonch shelling, which killed civilians on both sides, demonstrated that area-effect weapons were being fired in the broader region. Artillery rounds landing near or on the Nauseri site would produce exactly the type of damage described by Pakistani sources: broken equipment, shattered intake gates, damaged ancillary systems. Such damage would be consistent with proximity effects rather than deliberate precision targeting.

This interpretation is supported by the specific components reported damaged. De-sander intake gates and hydraulic protection units are surface-level equipment exposed to blast effects from nearby detonations. If India had deliberately targeted the dam with SCALP or BrahMos missiles, the expected damage profile would include massive structural penetration of the dam wall itself, cratering, and potential reservoir breach. No such damage was reported. The discrepancy between the weapons India used and the type of damage Pakistan described is significant.

The case for pre-existing conditions magnified by conflict reporting is the most analytically uncomfortable interpretation but cannot be dismissed. The Neelum-Jhelum plant had been completely non-operational since May 1, 2024, when headrace tunnel faults forced a shutdown. Before that, a tailrace tunnel collapse in July 2022 had shut the plant for twenty months, costing approximately PKR 6 billion in repairs and PKR 37 billion in energy losses. The headrace tunnel repair was estimated at PKR 23 billion, and the main contract had not yet been awarded when the 2025 conflict erupted. According to parliamentary testimony by Pakistan’s Water Resources Minister Muhammad Moeen in May 2025, the restoration was expected to take an additional two years.

The plant’s chronic operational failures raise a legitimate question: did the conflict provide a convenient explanation for damage that had non-military causes? This is not an accusation of fabrication; it is a recognition that attributing damage to enemy action in a conflict zone is easier than attributing it to engineering failure, and that the political incentives during active hostilities favor the former interpretation. Independent verification of the damage cause was impossible during the conflict, and no international body conducted an on-site assessment afterward.

A fourth possibility exists: that some combination of all three factors is true. The plant may have had pre-existing structural vulnerabilities from its troubled construction history, sustained additional damage from artillery effects in the nearby LoC combat zone, and been presented by Pakistan as evidence of deliberate infrastructure targeting to strengthen its diplomatic and legal position. Real-world damage attribution during armed conflict is rarely binary, and the Neelum-Jhelum case likely involves multiple contributing factors that cannot be cleanly separated.

The analytical challenge is compounded by the information asymmetry between the two sides. India possesses detailed targeting data, strike coordinates, weapons-release records, and post-strike imagery from its own operations. If India’s strikes were genuinely confined to the nine designated targets listed in the Defence Minister’s briefing, targeting data would show no weapons release in the Nauseri area. Releasing this data, however, would compromise sensitive information about India’s intelligence capabilities, weapon systems performance, and strike coordination procedures. Pakistan possesses first-hand access to the Nauseri site and could commission independent engineering assessments to determine whether the damage patterns are consistent with military ordnance (blast fragmentation, cratering, thermal effects) or other causes (structural failure, weather, pre-existing deterioration). Conducting and publishing such an assessment would either confirm or undermine Pakistan’s own narrative, creating a risk that may explain why no detailed engineering report has been made public.

The absence of independent international investigation is perhaps the most consequential gap in the Neelum-Jhelum dispute. In other conflicts where infrastructure damage has been contested, the United Nations, the ICRC, or independent forensic organizations have sometimes gained access to disputed sites and produced assessments that, while not always definitive, provided a credible third-party perspective. The 2025 India-Pakistan conflict ended with a fragile ceasefire that did not include provisions for international investigation of strike sites. No UN inspection team visited the Nauseri facility. No independent engineering firm was commissioned to assess the damage. The result is that the factual question, what caused the damage at Nauseri, may never be definitively answered, and both sides will continue to cite the case in support of their broader narratives about the conflict’s conduct.

The temporal dimension of the damage claim deserves particular attention. Pakistan’s military spokesman alleged the Neelum-Jhelum targeting on May 7, the same day as the initial strikes, when the information environment was at its most chaotic and verification was impossible. Claims made during active hostilities carry inherent uncertainty because they serve immediate communications objectives (rallying domestic support, generating international sympathy, deterring further strikes) as much as factual reporting. The WAPDA inspection on May 9, two days after the alleged damage, provides more credible evidence but still occurred during a period of active military tension when institutional incentives favored attributing damage to the enemy.

For intelligence analysts evaluating the competing claims, the Neelum-Jhelum case presents a textbook example of what the intelligence community calls a “low-confidence assessment environment.” Multiple plausible explanations exist. The available evidence is insufficient to discriminate between them. Both parties to the dispute have strong incentives to shape the narrative. Independent verification is unavailable. In such environments, the most intellectually honest conclusion is that the truth is likely a composite of multiple factors, and that definitive attribution may never be possible.

Impact on Pakistan-Occupied Kashmir Electricity Supply

Regardless of the cause, the Neelum-Jhelum plant’s incapacitation removed a substantial portion of Pakistan’s electricity generation capacity from PoK. At full rated capacity, the 969-megawatt plant ranked as Pakistan’s largest run-of-river power station in the region and one of the most important hydroelectric assets in the entire national grid. Its annual output of approximately 5,150 gigawatt-hours contributed meaningfully to a national grid that chronically struggles with generation deficits producing widespread load-shedding across the country, sometimes reaching 12 to 16 hours daily in summer months when demand peaks and thermal generation costs spike with international fuel prices.

The irony, however, is that the plant was already not generating any power when the May 2025 damage allegedly occurred. The headrace tunnel shutdown since May 2024 meant that Pakistan had already lost the plant’s entire 969-megawatt contribution to the grid for a full year. The National Electric Power Regulatory Authority had not included the Neelum-Jhelum plant within its forecast horizon for the fiscal year 2025-26 because ongoing technical issues made its restoration timeline unpredictable. In practical terms, the conflict damage to the intake infrastructure at Nauseri added complexity to an already stalled repair process but did not remove electricity from the grid that had already been absent for twelve months.

This does not diminish the significance of the damage. Even a non-operational plant retains strategic value because its repair and return to service represent future electricity generation capacity. Pakistan’s energy planning necessarily includes the Neelum-Jhelum plant’s eventual restoration as a factor in future grid capacity projections. Damage to intake gates and hydraulic systems at Nauseri could extend the already lengthy repair timeline by months or years, depending on severity. If the de-sander system requires complete reconstruction rather than component repair, the additional cost and time could compound the already estimated PKR 23 billion headrace tunnel repair into a substantially larger figure.

The secondary effects of extended non-availability ripple through Pakistan’s economy in ways that are difficult to quantify but real. Every kilowatt-hour not generated by the Neelum-Jhelum plant must be replaced by thermal generation, which requires imported fuel (furnace oil, LNG, or coal) paid for in hard currency that Pakistan chronically lacks. During the fiscal year 2024-25, the electricity shortfall from the Neelum-Jhelum shutdown was estimated to cost the national exchequer between PKR 90 billion and PKR 150 billion in replacement fuel costs alone. These costs directly affect Pakistan’s foreign exchange reserves, its import capacity for other essential goods, and its ability to manage the sovereign debt burden that already consumes a large share of government revenue.

For the civilian population of PoK specifically, the consequences of the plant’s extended absence are tangible and personal. Pakistan’s electricity generation deficit produces rolling blackouts that affect industrial output, agricultural processing, residential quality of life, and public services like hospitals and schools. Muzaffarabad, the capital of Pakistan-occupied Kashmir and the closest major city to the plant, relies on grid electricity for water pumping, healthcare facilities, and educational institutions. Extended blackouts mean hospitals run on unreliable backup generators, students study by candlelight, and small businesses that form the backbone of the local economy cannot maintain refrigeration, manufacturing equipment, or communication systems. The Neelum-Jhelum plant was conceived precisely to address these shortfalls in PoK and the broader Azad Jammu and Kashmir region. Its continued non-availability, whether caused by engineering failure, conflict damage, or both, means that the populations closest to the facility receive the least benefit from the approximately PKR 500 billion invested in its construction.

The electricity impact also has an international legal dimension that connects to the broader water-rights dispute. Under the Indus Waters Treaty framework, the Neelum River’s waters were already a subject of bilateral dispute. Pakistan had taken India to the Permanent Court of Arbitration in 2010 over the Kishanganga project upstream, arguing that India’s diversion would reduce Neelum flows into Pakistan by 21 percent and cut the Neelum-Jhelum plant’s power generation by approximately 10 percent. The Kishanganga project became operational on May 19, 2018, just months before the Neelum-Jhelum plant’s own commissioning. Damage to the Neelum-Jhelum facility during a military conflict, whatever its cause, further entangles the already complex legal question of water rights and infrastructure protection on contested rivers. Pakistan’s position in any future arbitration proceedings would be strengthened by evidence that India had not only diverted upstream water but also damaged the downstream facility that was built specifically to utilize the remaining flows.

The water-energy nexus at the Neelum-Jhelum site connects directly to India’s broader approach to the Indus Waters Treaty as a strategic instrument. India’s suspension of the treaty and reduction of Chenab flows in the days before Operation Sindoor established a pattern of using water control as a coercive tool. Whether or not the Neelum-Jhelum damage was deliberate, its placement within this broader pattern of water-related pressure gave Pakistan a powerful narrative linking infrastructure damage to systematic water warfare. For Pakistani strategists, the combination of upstream diversion (Kishanganga), treaty suspension (Indus Waters), flow reduction (Chenab), and alleged infrastructure damage (Neelum-Jhelum) constitutes a four-pronged water offensive that threatens Pakistan’s agricultural survival. Whether this narrative accurately reflects Indian intentions is a separate question from its political effectiveness, and on the latter dimension, the Neelum-Jhelum case provided Pakistan with its most concrete evidence point.

A Plant Already in Crisis

Any honest assessment of the Neelum-Jhelum damage must contend with the plant’s history of operational failures, which predated the 2025 conflict by years and reflected systemic problems in design, construction quality, and institutional management.

The first major crisis arrived on July 5, 2022, when the plant was running at full 969-megawatt capacity. An abnormal increase in water leakage was detected in the underground powerhouse. Investigation revealed elevated pressure in the tailrace tunnel, the channel that carries water from the turbines back to the Jhelum River. The tailrace tunnel had suffered a blockage caused by a structural collapse within the 3.54-kilometer underground passage. WAPDA shut down all four turbine units on July 5, 2022, and the plant remained completely non-operational for approximately twenty months.

The tailrace tunnel collapse was attributed to multiple factors by an Independent Panel of Experts established on the Prime Minister’s directives. The geological instability of the rock mass surrounding the tunnel, possible construction quality issues in the tunnel lining, and the seismic vulnerability of the region all contributed. Some Pakistani engineers privately questioned whether the original design by Norwegian consultant Norconsult had adequately accounted for the geological conditions along the tunnel route, a criticism that gained force as the engineering details emerged. The tunnel lining in the collapsed section had apparently failed to withstand the geological pressures exerted by the surrounding rock mass, allowing water to infiltrate the rock, destabilize the structure, and produce the blockage.

Remedial work on the tailrace tunnel was conducted by CGGC, the original Chinese construction contractor, under an emergency engagement signed on August 5, 2022, with mobilization beginning on August 27. The repair involved clearing the blockage, reinforcing the tunnel lining, and restoring the passage to operational condition. The cost approximately PKR 6 billion, and during the twenty-month shutdown, Pakistan incurred an estimated PKR 37 billion in energy losses from having to replace the plant’s output with more expensive thermal generation. The electricity shortfall contributed to severe load-shedding across Pakistan during the summers of 2022 and 2023, with blackouts lasting up to twelve hours daily in some regions.

The plant resumed full operations in March 2024, producing 969 megawatts and briefly restoring Pakistan’s access to nearly a gigawatt of clean, fuel-free hydroelectric power. The restoration lasted exactly two months. In May 2024, problems emerged in the headrace tunnel, the 48-kilometer underground passage that carries water from the Nauseri intake to the powerhouse. A fault in the tunnel, reportedly between kilometers 13 and 16 of the underground passage, forced a second complete shutdown on May 1, 2024.

This second failure was more alarming than the first because it affected a different tunnel system, suggesting that the construction quality issues were not isolated to the tailrace but potentially systemic across the entire underground waterway network. The headrace tunnel is substantially longer and more complex than the tailrace, running 48 kilometers through varied geological conditions and crossing beneath the Jhelum River at a depth of 380 meters. If the lining failures reflected a fundamental design or construction inadequacy, the entire tunnel system might require comprehensive reinforcement, a project that would cost orders of magnitude more than the targeted repairs.

An international consultant, James Stevenson, assessed that full reconstruction of the entire headrace tunnel would cost more than PKR 222 billion and may take a couple of years to complete. A more targeted repair, reinforcing the troubled section between kilometers 13 and 16 through concrete lining, was estimated at PKR 23 billion and eight months of work. The affected section could be accessed through horizontal adits (cross-tunnels), avoiding the need to depressurize and drain the entire headrace system.

By the time of Operation Sindoor in May 2025, the headrace tunnel repair contract had still not been awarded, according to Water Resources Minister Muhammad Moeen’s testimony to Pakistan’s National Assembly. Bureaucratic delays, funding constraints, and the complexity of international procurement for specialized underground engineering services had prevented the repair from commencing. The plant had been completely non-operational for a full year. The total cost of repairs already incurred on the tailrace tunnel stood at approximately PKR 6.6 billion, and the headrace tunnel repair costs were still accumulating through idle-facility expenses.

This context is essential for evaluating the May 2025 damage claims. The Neelum-Jhelum plant was already a failed asset, a PKR 500 billion investment generating zero electricity and accumulating billions more in repair costs. The May 2025 conflict damage, whatever its extent, compounded an existing crisis rather than creating a new one. For Pakistan’s political and military leadership, attributing additional damage to Indian aggression served a dual purpose: it internationalized the plant’s problems (converting engineering failure into an act of war) and it strengthened the narrative of Indian infrastructure targeting that was central to Pakistan’s diplomatic strategy during the conflict.

None of this means the conflict damage did not occur. The WAPDA inspection team’s visit to Nauseri on May 9 documented what they described as significant damage, and their professional reputations rested on accurate assessment. The point is that the conflict damage must be evaluated against a backdrop of chronic structural failure, and any attempt to attribute the plant’s non-operational status entirely to Indian action ignores the year-long shutdown that preceded the strikes.

International Humanitarian Law and Civilian Energy Infrastructure

The Neelum-Jhelum case raises fundamental questions under international humanitarian law about the protection of civilian energy infrastructure during armed conflict. The relevant legal framework is both more specific and more contested than general public discussion typically acknowledges.

Article 56 of Protocol I Additional to the Geneva Conventions provides heightened protection to “works and installations containing dangerous forces, namely dams, dykes and nuclear electrical generating stations.” These installations “shall not be made the object of attack, even where these objects are military objectives, if such attack may cause the release of dangerous forces and consequent severe losses among the civilian population.” The provision specifically names dams, creating a category of infrastructure that receives protection beyond the standard civilian object protections.

Both India and Pakistan are parties to the Geneva Conventions, though India’s position on Additional Protocol I is more complex. India signed Protocol I in 1977 but has not ratified it. Pakistan has not signed it. This legal reality means that the specific dam protection provisions of Article 56 are not treaty-binding on either party. The question then becomes whether the protections have attained the status of customary international law, binding on all states regardless of treaty ratification.

The International Committee of the Red Cross’s Customary IHL Study identifies Rule 42: “Particular care must be taken if works and installations containing dangerous forces, namely dams, dykes and nuclear electrical generating stations, are attacked, in order to avoid the release of dangerous forces and consequent severe losses among the civilian population.” The ICRC characterizes this as a rule of customary international law applicable in both international and non-international armed conflicts. Under this formulation, even if Article 56 does not apply as treaty law, a customary obligation of “particular care” exists when attacking or operating near dams.

The application of these rules to the Neelum-Jhelum case is complicated by several factors. The Noseri Dam is a relatively modest gravity structure holding 8 million cubic meters of water, a fraction of the capacity of major dams like Tarbela (13.7 billion cubic meters) or Mangla (7.25 billion cubic meters). The downstream flood risk from a breach at Noseri would be real but geographically limited compared to the catastrophic scenarios that Article 56 was designed to prevent. The plant is a run-of-river scheme, not a storage dam, which further limits the potential for “release of dangerous forces” of the type envisioned by the Protocol.

A critical nuance in the legal analysis involves the concept of “dangerous forces.” Article 56 specifically protects against attacks that may cause “the release of dangerous forces” from dams, meaning catastrophic water release. The damage reported at Nauseri, affecting intake gates and hydraulic equipment, did not involve or threaten such a release. The dam wall remained intact, and no downstream flooding was reported or threatened. If the heightened protection of Article 56 applies only when an attack risks releasing dangerous forces, then damage to ancillary equipment that does not compromise the dam’s containment function may fall outside the provision’s scope, even if the installation itself is a protected category.

This interpretation is contested. Some IHL scholars argue that any attack on a dam or associated facility triggers the heightened protection, regardless of whether the specific damage threatens to release dangerous forces. Their reasoning is that the protective provision should be interpreted broadly to discourage any military interaction with these sensitive installations. Others maintain that the text of Article 56 clearly conditions the protection on the risk of dangerous-force release, and that damage not implicating that risk is governed by the general rules of distinction, proportionality, and precautions in attack rather than the special dam-protection provision.

The Geneva List of Principles on the Protection of Water Infrastructure, developed by the Geneva Water Hub with support from experts in IHL, systematizes the main international rules applicable to water infrastructure protection during armed conflict. The principles emphasize that water infrastructure occupies a unique position in IHL because its destruction can affect civilian survival across multiple dimensions: drinking water, agricultural irrigation, energy generation, and sanitation. The Neelum-Jhelum facility touches all of these dimensions because it generates electricity used for water pumping and agricultural processing throughout the national grid, and because the dam itself manages water flows in a river system that serves downstream communities.

The distinction between a precision strike on the dam wall and incidental damage to ancillary equipment from nearby operations also matters legally. Under IHL’s general rules, the principle of proportionality requires that anticipated civilian harm from an attack not be “excessive in relation to the concrete and direct military advantage anticipated.” If the damage at Nauseri was collateral to a strike on a legitimate military target in the nearby LoC area, the legal analysis turns on whether the anticipated damage was proportionate to the military advantage of the primary target. If the damage was deliberate, the analysis turns on whether the dam constituted a military objective and whether the attack violated the heightened protections applicable to dams.

The precautions-in-attack obligation adds another layer. Article 57 of Protocol I (and its customary law equivalent) requires parties to a conflict to take “constant care” to spare civilian objects and to take “all feasible precautions” to avoid or minimize incidental damage. Even if the Nauseri site was not deliberately targeted, the presence of a known hydropower facility in the operational area triggers precautionary obligations. An attacking force aware of the facility’s location would be expected to select weapons, tactics, and approach vectors that minimize the risk of collateral damage to the installation. Whether India’s operations near the LoC satisfied this obligation is a question that cannot be answered without access to operational planning documents and targeting procedures, information neither side is likely to release.

Article 54 of Protocol I provides additional relevant protection, prohibiting attacks on “objects indispensable to the survival of the civilian population” including “drinking water installations and supplies and irrigation works.” Hydropower dams that provide electricity for water pumping, irrigation, and agricultural processing fall at the intersection of energy infrastructure and water infrastructure, potentially triggering both the Article 56 dam protection and the Article 54 essential-object protection.

UN Security Council Resolution 2573, adopted in 2021, further emphasized the “severe consequences of damage or destruction to civilian infrastructure, especially those objects indispensable to the survival of the civilian population.” While Security Council resolutions create political obligations rather than directly amending IHL, Resolution 2573 reflects the international community’s growing concern about infrastructure targeting in armed conflicts.

The Neelum-Jhelum case also invites comparison with the Nova Kakhovka Dam destruction in Ukraine in June 2023, the most significant dam damage event in recent armed conflict. The Nova Kakhovka case demonstrated the catastrophic humanitarian consequences of dam destruction: massive flooding, displacement of tens of thousands of civilians, ecological devastation, and long-term agricultural damage. The scale of the Neelum-Jhelum damage is orders of magnitude smaller, but the legal principles engaged are similar. Both cases involve allegations of deliberate infrastructure targeting during armed conflict, contested attribution, and questions about the adequacy of existing IHL protections.

The legal uncertainty cuts in different directions depending on interpretation. If India deliberately targeted the Neelum-Jhelum facility, even the customary IHL rule requiring “particular care” near dams would be implicated, and the attack could constitute a violation regardless of treaty ratification status. If the damage was collateral to legitimate military operations nearby, the analysis turns on proportionality and precautions, tests that require detailed knowledge of the military objectives pursued and the anticipated collateral effects. If the damage had non-military causes attributed to conflict for political purposes, no IHL violation occurred at all.

Historical Parallels and the Precedent Question

The Neelum-Jhelum case sits within a broader pattern of infrastructure targeting in armed conflicts, and the precedent it establishes will influence how future belligerents approach civilian energy facilities.

Hydroelectric dams have been military targets since the earliest days of industrialized warfare. The Royal Air Force’s Operation Chastise in May 1943, using Barnes Wallis’s bouncing bombs against the Mohne, Eder, and Sorpe dams in Germany’s Ruhr Valley, demonstrated that dam destruction could devastate industrial capacity and civilian life simultaneously. The Mohne Dam breach alone killed approximately 1,600 people and disrupted water supply and industrial production across the Ruhr region. The operation established the precedent that dams are high-value strategic targets whose destruction produces outsized effects relative to the munitions expended.

The Korean War saw American forces bomb the Hwachon Dam in May 1951, initially using conventional aircraft and eventually deploying aerial torpedoes to breach the dam’s gates and deny the enemy control over downstream water levels. A year later, massive air raids struck the Sui-ho Dam complex in June 1952, targeting North Korea’s hydroelectric infrastructure to degrade its industrial capacity. The Sui-ho strikes involved nearly 500 aircraft sorties and knocked out approximately 90 percent of North Korea’s power supply for two weeks. These strikes produced significant downstream flooding and civilian displacement but were not treated as legal violations at the time because the Geneva Conventions of 1949, drafted in response to World War II’s excesses, did not specifically address dam protection. The post-Korea legal vacuum regarding dams contributed to the inclusion of specific protections in the 1977 Additional Protocols, which were drafted with the awareness that dam attacks carried disproportionate humanitarian consequences.

The Vietnam War’s contribution to dam-protection law was primarily precautionary. American military planners considered bombing the Red River dike system to flood Hanoi’s agricultural hinterland and weaken North Vietnam’s economy. President Lyndon Johnson rejected the proposal due to anticipated civilian casualties and international condemnation, but the fact that the option was seriously considered demonstrated the military attractiveness of water infrastructure as a strategic target. The experience informed the negotiating positions at the Diplomatic Conference that produced the 1977 Additional Protocols, where states agreed that dams, dykes, and nuclear facilities deserved heightened protection beyond the general civilian-object protections.

More recently, the Syrian civil war produced extensive damage to water and energy infrastructure, including the Tabqa Dam on the Euphrates River, which was contested by multiple armed factions between 2013 and 2017. The dam’s proximity to combat zones meant it sustained repeated damage from small arms, artillery, and airstrike effects. In early 2017, as the US-backed Syrian Democratic Forces fought to capture Tabqa from the Islamic State, multiple weapons strikes landed near the dam, and reports emerged that the dam’s internal machinery was damaged. The risk of a breach threatened catastrophic downstream flooding affecting hundreds of thousands of civilians in the Euphrates Valley. The Tabqa experience demonstrated that even without deliberate targeting, combat operations near dam infrastructure create serious humanitarian risks that can evolve rapidly into potential catastrophes.

The 2023 destruction of the Nova Kakhovka Dam in Ukraine produced the most significant dam-related humanitarian disaster since World War II. The dam’s breach on June 6, 2023, released approximately 18 billion cubic meters of water, flooding vast agricultural areas across the Kherson region, displacing over 40,000 people, destroying crops and livestock, and causing ecological devastation that will persist for decades. Attribution remains contested, with Russia and Ukraine each blaming the other, and no independent investigation has conclusively determined responsibility. The International Criminal Court opened an investigation, but forensic analysis of the dam’s failure mechanism has been complicated by the ongoing conflict and the inaccessibility of the site. The case illustrated both the catastrophic potential of dam destruction and the extreme difficulty of attributing infrastructure damage in active conflict zones, a parallel that resonates directly with the Neelum-Jhelum dispute.

The Neelum-Jhelum case differs from these precedents in scale but shares the essential features of contested attribution, strategic location near combat zones, and legal ambiguity. If the damage was deliberate, it represents the first alleged targeting of a hydropower facility in a conflict between nuclear-armed states. If it was collateral, it demonstrates the vulnerability of critical infrastructure in border areas when conventional combat occurs nearby. Either interpretation creates a precedent for how nuclear-armed adversaries will assess the risks and benefits of operating near each other’s energy infrastructure.

The Kishanganga dimension adds a layer unique to the India-Pakistan context. India’s own Kishanganga Hydroelectric Project, which diverts waters from the same Neelum River upstream of the Neelum-Jhelum facility, represents a similar vulnerability. If Pakistan had struck the Kishanganga facility during the 2025 conflict, India would face an identical loss of hydroelectric capacity and an identical legal debate about infrastructure targeting. The mutual vulnerability of each nation’s river infrastructure to the other’s military capabilities creates a deterrence dynamic specific to the Indus basin: attacking the enemy’s dams risks retaliation against your own.

Key Figures in the Neelum-Jhelum Controversy

Several individuals played central roles in shaping the narratives around the Neelum-Jhelum damage, and their positions, institutional allegiances, and professional backgrounds are relevant to evaluating their claims.

Lt. General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry

As Director General of the Inter-Services Public Relations directorate, Chaudhry served as Pakistan’s primary military spokesman during the 2025 conflict. His May 7 media briefing was the first official statement alleging Indian targeting of the Neelum-Jhelum facility. Chaudhry’s role required him to fulfill two potentially conflicting functions: accurately reporting military events and maintaining public morale and international sympathy during a conflict Pakistan was losing on multiple fronts. His rhetorical framing of the Neelum-Jhelum allegation, including pointed questions about international law and water targeting, was designed to maximize the diplomatic impact of the claim. Whether his statements accurately reflected verified intelligence or represented a broader communications strategy is a question that cannot be resolved without access to classified Pakistani assessments.

Vikram Misri

India’s Foreign Secretary delivered the categorical denial of the Neelum-Jhelum allegation during his May 8 media briefing. Misri’s background in diplomacy rather than military operations meant his denial was institutional rather than operational: he conveyed the government’s position without providing granular targeting data that might have resolved the factual question. His warning that Pakistan would bear consequences if it used the Neelum-Jhelum claim as a pretext for infrastructure retaliation indicated that India took the allegation seriously as a potential escalation trigger, even while denying its factual basis.

Engineer Lt. General (Ret.) Sajjad Ghani

As WAPDA Chairperson, Ghani’s visit to the Nauseri site on May 9 represented the most authoritative Pakistani technical assessment of the damage. His institutional role required balancing accurate damage reporting with WAPDA’s organizational interest in attributing the plant’s problems to external factors rather than internal engineering failures. Given that the plant had been non-operational for a year due to tunnel collapses, WAPDA faced legitimate questions about construction quality and maintenance. Conflict damage provided an alternative explanation that shifted responsibility from WAPDA’s contractors and managers to the Indian military.

Muhammad Arfan Miana

As CEO of the Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Company, Miana accompanied Ghani on the inspection visit and was responsible for the detailed damage assessment. His company had overseen the plant’s troubled operational history, including the tailrace tunnel collapse and the headrace tunnel failure. The company’s reporting on conflict damage must be evaluated with awareness that it had institutional reasons to distinguish clearly between pre-existing problems (for which the company bore responsibility) and new damage (for which the Indian military could be blamed). Miana’s dual role as both the operator of a failed asset and the assessor of conflict damage to that same asset creates a potential conflict of interest that independent verification could have resolved but no such verification was undertaken.

Rajnath Singh

India’s Defence Minister provided the post-strike briefing that listed the nine Operation Sindoor targets. His presentation explicitly named the facilities struck, their organizational affiliations (Jaish-e-Mohammed and Lashkar-e-Taiba), and the weapons systems used. The Neelum-Jhelum facility was not among the listed targets. Singh’s credibility on the targeting question was enhanced by the specificity of his claims, which provided falsifiable assertions (specific coordinates, facility names, organizational connections) rather than vague generalizations. However, the Defence Minister’s briefing did not address artillery operations after the initial 23-minute precision strike window, leaving the question of subsequent collateral effects unaddressed.

Undala Alam

The water security scholar was identified in the deep brief as a secondary source for the legal and humanitarian implications of targeting water infrastructure. Alam’s academic work on transboundary river weaponization provides the theoretical framework for evaluating the Neelum-Jhelum case within the broader context of water-infrastructure protection during armed conflict. Her research on the intersection of international water law and international humanitarian law is directly relevant to the question of whether customary IHL protections apply to hydropower facilities that serve both energy and water-management functions. Academic analysis like Alam’s provides the legal depth that neither side’s political statements can offer.

Angad Singh

The defense journalist and analyst was identified as a secondary source for analysis of the targeting methodology that may have affected the plant. Singh’s technical expertise in Indian military operations and weapons systems deployment provides a basis for evaluating whether the damage patterns at Nauseri are consistent with the specific munitions India deployed during Operation Sindoor or with other ordnance types (artillery, rockets) used during the subsequent exchange phases. His analysis, if published, would represent one of the few technically informed independent assessments of the damage claim, though access to the site remains a constraining factor for any external analyst.

Consequences and Impact

The Neelum-Jhelum damage claim, regardless of its precise accuracy, produced consequences across multiple dimensions that extended far beyond the physical infrastructure at Nauseri.

Diplomatically, the allegation strengthened Pakistan’s case before international bodies that India had engaged in indiscriminate warfare targeting civilian infrastructure. Pakistan’s Ambassador to the United Nations cited the Neelum-Jhelum case in statements calling for international investigation into Indian strikes. Combined with allegations of mosque targeting and civilian casualties, the hydropower claim formed part of a diplomatic package designed to erode international support for India’s military operation and pressure external powers to demand a ceasefire. At the Organization of Islamic Cooperation and in bilateral discussions with China, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia, Pakistan presented the Neelum-Jhelum damage as evidence that India was waging a broader war against Pakistani infrastructure rather than conducting targeted counter-terror strikes.

The claim also resonated with international civil society organizations focused on water rights and infrastructure protection. Several NGOs and academic institutions cited the Neelum-Jhelum case in post-conflict assessments of IHL compliance, lending additional weight to Pakistan’s narrative even in the absence of independent verification. The framing of the damage as a water-infrastructure attack, rather than simply an energy-infrastructure incident, connected it to the growing global discourse about water weaponization in armed conflicts and gave it a shelf life beyond the immediate crisis.

The damage assessment debate also influenced the broader controversy over whether India killed 100 militants as claimed or primarily struck civilian targets as Pakistan alleged. Each side’s credibility on the Neelum-Jhelum question affected its credibility on the casualty question. If India was targeting civilian infrastructure, Pakistan’s broader claim that strike casualties were mostly civilian gained plausibility. If Pakistan was fabricating or exaggerating infrastructure damage claims, its civilian casualty numbers became less credible. The information-war dimension of the Neelum-Jhelum case made it strategically significant far beyond its physical impact.

India’s response to the allegation also carried strategic costs. Misri’s categorical denial, while politically necessary, meant that India could not acknowledge even the possibility of collateral damage near the facility. In conflicts between democracies and states that operate under international scrutiny, categorical denials that later prove partially inaccurate can cause more reputational damage than qualified acknowledgments. If evidence eventually surfaces confirming some conflict-related damage at Nauseri, India’s absolutist denial could undermine credibility on other contested claims from the conflict.

Strategically, the Neelum-Jhelum case highlighted the vulnerability of critical infrastructure in border regions during conventional conflict between nuclear powers. Both India and Pakistan maintain significant energy, water, and transportation infrastructure near the Line of Control. Roads, bridges, power transmission lines, water treatment facilities, and communication towers all fall within range of artillery systems that both sides deploy along the border. The lesson of the Neelum-Jhelum damage, deliberate or not, is that any conventional military exchange in the LoC region will produce infrastructure damage, and that infrastructure damage will be weaponized in the information war regardless of intent.

The Neelum-Jhelum case has also prompted defense analysts in both countries to reassess infrastructure placement near contested borders. Indian analysts have noted that India’s own Kishanganga facility, located upstream in the same river system, faces similar vulnerability to Pakistani military action. Pakistani analysts have questioned the wisdom of investing PKR 500 billion in a facility located within artillery range of an adversary’s positions. The mutual vulnerability creates a deterrence effect that operates independently of nuclear weapons: each side’s ability to damage the other’s civilian infrastructure constrains military options and raises the anticipated costs of any future conventional exchange.

For Pakistan’s energy sector, the Neelum-Jhelum damage compounded a financial catastrophe. The plant’s construction cost approximately PKR 500 billion. Repair costs for the tailrace tunnel collapse exceeded PKR 6 billion. Headrace tunnel repairs were estimated at PKR 23 billion. Energy losses during shutdowns exceeded PKR 37 billion. If the May 2025 conflict damage extends the repair timeline or adds reconstruction requirements, the total cost of the Neelum-Jhelum project may exceed PKR 600 billion, a figure that represents one of the largest infrastructure investment failures in Pakistan’s history. For context, PKR 600 billion exceeds the annual development budget of several Pakistani provinces and approaches the country’s entire annual spending on education.

The Neelum-Jhelum case also fed directly into Pakistan’s broader water-security narrative. The Indus Waters Treaty’s weaponization during the 2025 crisis, including India’s reduction of Chenab River flows and the suspension of treaty consultations, created an environment in which any damage to water-related infrastructure was interpreted through the lens of systematic Indian water warfare. The Neelum-Jhelum facility, which diverts Neelum River water contested under the treaty framework, sits at the exact intersection of Pakistan’s energy vulnerability and its water-security anxieties. Damage to this specific facility, real or perceived, produced a disproportionate psychological and political impact because of what the plant symbolizes in Pakistan’s strategic imagination.

The Repair Timeline and Financial Reckoning

Assessing the repair timeline requires separating the pre-existing repair challenge from any additional conflict-related damage, though in practice the two are now entangled in ways that may never be fully disentangled.

Before the May 2025 conflict, the restoration pathway was already uncertain. The headrace tunnel repair required boring and concrete-lining through kilometers 13 to 16 of the underground passage, a technically demanding operation requiring specialized equipment and engineering expertise. The international consultant, James Stevenson, had assessed the situation in late 2024 and concluded that the faults in the headrace tunnel between kilometers 13 and 16 could be reached through horizontal access adits and reinforced through concrete lining. His estimate of eight months and PKR 23 billion for a targeted repair represented an optimistic scenario predicated on securing a qualified contractor, mobilizing equipment to the remote site, and executing the work without encountering additional geological surprises in the tunnel.

Full reconstruction of the headrace tunnel, if the targeted repair proved insufficient, carried an estimated cost exceeding PKR 222 billion and a multi-year timeline. The difference between the two estimates reflected a fundamental uncertainty about the tunnel’s condition: if the faults at kilometers 13 to 16 were isolated, the targeted repair would suffice; if they indicated systemic problems in the tunnel’s construction quality (as the 2022 tailrace tunnel collapse had suggested), a more comprehensive intervention would be necessary. Two separate inquiry committees, one constituted by the Prime Minister in May 2024 and another in January 2025, were investigating the causes of the tunnel failures, and their findings were still pending when the conflict erupted.

Water Resources Minister Muhammad Moeen’s parliamentary testimony in May 2025 indicated that the restoration was expected to take an additional two years from that date, placing the earliest possible return to service in mid-2027. This estimate predated the conflict damage assessment and reflected only the headrace tunnel repair. If the intake infrastructure damage reported by WAPDA requires separate reconstruction, the timeline could extend further. The National Electric Power Regulatory Authority had effectively written off the plant for fiscal year 2025-26, excluding it from its power generation forecasts.

The de-sander intake gates, if destroyed, would need to be remanufactured or imported. These components are specialized hydraulic equipment designed for the specific flow characteristics of the Neelum River intake, including the river’s seasonal sediment load and flow variability. Replacement units would likely require custom engineering by specialized manufacturers (potentially in China, given the original construction consortium), procurement and shipping to Pakistan, transportation to the remote Nauseri site over roads that may themselves have sustained conflict damage, and installation under conditions that may include continued security restrictions near the Line of Control. The hydraulic protection system damage adds additional reconstruction requirements that cannot be assessed without detailed engineering surveys, and conducting such surveys in a border area that remains militarily sensitive introduces its own delays.

The financial reckoning extends beyond repair costs to encompass the plant’s entire economic lifecycle. The Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Company operates under a provisional tariff on a “take-and-pay” basis, meaning it receives payments from the Central Power Purchasing Agency only for electricity actually produced. During the shutdown periods, the company generates zero revenue while continuing to incur fixed costs including staff salaries, security, loan servicing on the Chinese and Middle Eastern bank financing that funded construction, and insurance premiums. The annual losses from the plant’s non-availability exceed PKR 55 billion in direct costs, with indirect losses from replacement fuel costs ranging from PKR 90 billion to PKR 150 billion depending on whether thermal generation, imported LNG, or emergency power purchases fill the gap.

The total financial impact of the Neelum-Jhelum project’s failures, including construction cost overruns, repeated shutdowns, repair costs, energy losses, and indirect economic damage, now approaches or exceeds PKR 700 billion. This figure represents one of the most expensive infrastructure failures in South Asian history. To place it in context, PKR 700 billion exceeds the GDP of Pakistan’s smallest province and could have financed the construction of multiple smaller, distributed power generation facilities that would have been less vulnerable to both engineering failure and military attack. The concentration of PKR 500 billion of public investment in a single facility located near an active military frontier, dependent on a single 48-kilometer tunnel, and subject to both geological and conflict risks, represents a strategic infrastructure planning failure that the 2025 conflict damage merely exposed.

Why It Still Matters

The Neelum-Jhelum case matters beyond its immediate context because it establishes a template for how infrastructure damage will be contested, attributed, and weaponized in future conflicts between nuclear-armed states. The implications reach into military doctrine, international law, infrastructure planning, and the evolving nature of information warfare.

The verification challenge is permanent. Unlike the Balakot strike debate, where commercial satellite imagery could at least show whether buildings were standing or destroyed, the Neelum-Jhelum damage involves underground and semi-enclosed infrastructure components that are difficult to assess from orbital imagery. De-sander intake gates and hydraulic protection systems are not visible from satellite. Without independent, on-the-ground engineering assessment, the precise cause and extent of damage will remain genuinely unresolvable. This means that both India’s denial and Pakistan’s allegation will persist as competing narratives, each supported by circumstantial evidence but neither conclusively proven or disproven.

This verification gap creates an incentive structure that will recur in future conflicts. The defending party has incentives to attribute pre-existing or collateral damage to deliberate enemy action, maximizing diplomatic leverage and strengthening its case for international sympathy and support. The attacking party has incentives to deny any civilian infrastructure damage, maintaining the narrative of precision and restraint that is essential for international legitimacy, particularly in democracies where public opinion constrains military action. Both incentive structures operate independent of ground truth, and the absence of independent verification means both narratives persist indefinitely. The result is a permanent “frozen dispute” analogous to the Balakot damage debate, where the question of whether India’s 2019 strike hit its target remains unresolved years later.

The legal framework for infrastructure protection during conflict is evolving but incomplete. The 1977 Additional Protocols provide the most specific dam-protection language, but neither India nor Pakistan has ratified Protocol I. Customary international law requires “particular care” near installations containing dangerous forces but does not prohibit attacks on them outright. The gap between the heightened protections that IHL aspires to provide and the practical reality of combat operations near critical infrastructure remains wide, and the Neelum-Jhelum case falls squarely within that gap. Future conflicts will face identical challenges: belligerents operating near dams, power stations, and water facilities will generate damage allegations that existing legal frameworks cannot easily adjudicate, particularly when both sides have political incentives to shape the narrative.

The mutual infrastructure vulnerability between India and Pakistan creates a unique deterrence dynamic that goes beyond nuclear weapons. The Kishanganga and Neelum-Jhelum projects are essentially paired facilities on the same river system, with Kishanganga diverting water upstream of Neelum-Jhelum’s intake. Each nation’s ability to damage the other’s water infrastructure creates a bilateral version of mutually assured destruction specific to the energy and water sectors. The 2025 conflict tested this dynamic without fully resolving it, and any future military exchange along the Line of Control will face the same question of whether water and energy infrastructure are legitimate targets or protected categories. The absence of a bilateral agreement specifically addressing infrastructure protection during military crises leaves this question dangerously unanswered.

The Neelum-Jhelum case also illustrates how pre-existing vulnerabilities amplify conflict effects in ways that complicate both damage assessment and political accountability. A well-maintained, fully operational power plant suffers damage differently than one already in crisis from engineering failures. The compounding of structural weakness and military damage creates assessment challenges that neither engineering nor intelligence analysis can cleanly resolve. Future conflicts in regions with aging or poorly maintained infrastructure, which describes large portions of South Asia, the Middle East, and Central Asia, will face similar attribution problems, and the Neelum-Jhelum precedent will inform how those debates unfold. The lesson is that infrastructure condition matters as much as military targeting: a plant that has already failed twice from tunnel collapses is a plant where any subsequent damage can be attributed to conflict, engineering, or both, with definitive attribution virtually impossible.

For defense planners globally, the Neelum-Jhelum case reinforces the principle that critical infrastructure should not be concentrated in single facilities near contested borders. Distributed generation, redundant water systems, and hardened underground components offer greater resilience against both military attack and engineering failure than a single mega-project. The PKR 500 billion invested in one facility could have financed dozens of smaller plants distributed across Pakistan’s grid, each individually less impactful if damaged but collectively more resilient than a single point of failure.

For the civilian populations of PoK and the broader Azad Jammu and Kashmir region, the Neelum-Jhelum saga represents a promise unchosen and unfulfilled. They bore the costs of the project’s construction through land acquisition and displacement. They were promised electricity that the plant has largely failed to deliver due to repeated shutdowns. They now face extended electricity deficits compounded by conflict damage. Their experience illustrates the human cost of infrastructure that exists at the intersection of strategic competition, engineering ambition, and military vulnerability. The power they were promised flows through a tunnel that has collapsed twice and a dam that may have been damaged by a war fought over terrorism, not electricity.

The Neelum-Jhelum case will be studied by military planners, international lawyers, and infrastructure engineers for years to come. It represents the first alleged targeting of a major hydropower facility in a conflict between nuclear-armed states. Whether the attribution debate resolves in India’s favor, Pakistan’s favor, or remains permanently frozen, the questions it raises about infrastructure protection, water weaponization, information warfare, and the limits of precision warfare will shape how the next conflict between nuclear powers unfolds. In a world where critical infrastructure is concentrated, interdependent, and often located near contested borders, the Neelum-Jhelum precedent is not an exception. It is a preview of how future wars will be fought, denied, and debated long after the ceasefire holds.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: Was the Neelum-Jhelum hydropower plant damaged in 2025?

Pakistan’s military and WAPDA confirmed that the Noseri Dam intake infrastructure at the Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Project sustained damage during the night of May 6-7, 2025. WAPDA Chairperson Lt. General (retired) Sajjad Ghani personally inspected the site on May 9, 2025, and was briefed on what officials described as significant damage. The specific components reported damaged included the de-sander intake gates and the hydraulic protection unit of the dam’s water management system. An ambulance at the site was also reportedly struck. However, no independent international body conducted an on-site assessment, and the extent of the damage remains unverified by third parties.

Q: Did India deliberately target the Neelum-Jhelum plant?

India categorically denied targeting the Neelum-Jhelum facility. Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri called Pakistan’s allegation “an absolute and complete fabrication, and a blatant lie” during his May 8, 2025 media briefing. India stated that all Operation Sindoor strikes targeted terrorist infrastructure and that no civilian or energy facilities were selected. The precision weapons India deployed during the 23-minute strike campaign (SCALP missiles, BrahMos missiles, SPICE guided bombs) are designed for specific pre-programmed targets, making accidental strikes on unintended infrastructure unlikely during the initial phase. However, subsequent artillery exchanges along the Line of Control, which employed area-effect weapons, could have produced incidental damage near the Nauseri site.

Q: What is the Neelum-Jhelum plant’s capacity?

The Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Project has an installed capacity of 969 megawatts, produced by four Francis turbine generators each rated at 242.25 megawatts. The plant is a run-of-river scheme that diverts water from the Neelum River through a 48-kilometer headrace tunnel to an underground powerhouse on the Jhelum River. It was designed to generate approximately 5,150 gigawatt-hours of electricity annually. On several occasions, the plant exceeded its rated capacity, reaching approximately 1,040 megawatts.

Q: How does the damage affect PoK electricity supply?

The practical electricity impact of the May 2025 conflict damage was limited in the immediate term because the plant had already been completely non-operational since May 2024 due to a headrace tunnel fault. The plant was not producing any electricity when the conflict damage occurred. However, the damage to intake infrastructure potentially extends the already lengthy repair timeline, delaying the plant’s eventual return to service and prolonging PoK’s loss of its largest power generation source.

Q: Is targeting hydropower infrastructure a war crime?

The legal analysis depends on specific circumstances. Article 56 of Additional Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions provides heightened protection to dams, prohibiting attacks that “may cause the release of dangerous forces and consequent severe losses among the civilian population.” However, neither India nor Pakistan has ratified Protocol I. Under customary international humanitarian law, the ICRC identifies a rule requiring “particular care” when attacking installations containing dangerous forces. Whether collateral damage from nearby operations, as opposed to deliberate targeting, triggers these protections is a matter of legal debate. The specific nature of the reported damage (ancillary equipment rather than dam wall breach) also affects the analysis.

Q: How much will repairs cost and how long will they take?

Before the May 2025 conflict damage, the headrace tunnel repair alone was estimated at PKR 23 billion and eight months, with full tunnel reconstruction potentially exceeding PKR 222 billion. Water Resources Minister Muhammad Moeen stated in May 2025 that restoration was expected to take an additional two years. Conflict damage to the intake infrastructure at Nauseri adds an unknown but potentially significant cost and timeline extension. The total project expenditure, including original construction (PKR 500 billion), previous repairs (PKR 6.6 billion), and estimated future repairs, may exceed PKR 600 billion.

Q: Has Pakistan provided evidence of the damage?

WAPDA Chairperson Lt. General (retired) Sajjad Ghani led an official inspection of the Nauseri site on May 9, 2025, accompanied by senior technical officials. Pakistan’s military spokesman and security sources provided descriptions of specific components damaged, including de-sander intake gates and hydraulic protection units. However, Pakistan did not release detailed photographic documentation, engineering assessment reports, or independent verification from international bodies. The site’s proximity to the Line of Control and active hostilities made independent access impossible during the conflict.

Q: Does the Neelum-Jhelum damage set a dangerous precedent?

The case establishes concerning precedents regardless of attribution. If the damage was deliberate, it represents the first alleged targeting of a major hydropower facility in a conflict between nuclear-armed states, challenging the norms protecting civilian energy infrastructure. If it was collateral, it demonstrates the vulnerability of critical infrastructure in border regions to conventional combat effects, with implications for infrastructure planning worldwide. If the damage was exaggerated or misattributed, it demonstrates how infrastructure damage claims can be weaponized in the information war during armed conflict. All three interpretations create precedents that future belligerents will study.

Q: Was the plant operational when the damage occurred?

No. The Neelum-Jhelum Hydropower Project had been completely shut down since May 1, 2024, due to a fault in the headrace tunnel. Before that, a tailrace tunnel collapse in July 2022 had shut the plant for approximately twenty months. The plant was non-operational and not generating any electricity at the time of the May 2025 conflict, and the main contract for headrace tunnel repair work had not yet been awarded.

Q: How does the Neelum-Jhelum damage relate to the Indus Waters Treaty dispute?

The Neelum River’s waters are contested between India and Pakistan under the Indus Waters Treaty framework. India’s Kishanganga Hydroelectric Project diverts water from the same river upstream of the Neelum-Jhelum facility, and Pakistan took India to the Permanent Court of Arbitration over the project in 2010. India’s suspension of the Indus Waters Treaty and reduction of Chenab River flows following the Pahalgam attack created a broader water-weaponization narrative within which the Neelum-Jhelum damage claim resonated powerfully. The case links energy infrastructure damage to the treaty’s contested provisions on water sharing.

Q: What weapons could have caused the reported damage?

The damage reported at Nauseri (broken intake gates, damaged hydraulic equipment) is consistent with multiple types of ordnance. Artillery shells landing near the intake structure could produce this damage pattern through blast effects. Stray rounds from the broader Line of Control exchanges could also account for the reported effects. The precision-guided munitions India deployed during the initial 23-minute strike (SCALP, BrahMos, SPICE) would typically produce much greater damage, including structural penetration and massive cratering, inconsistent with the relatively limited damage profile Pakistan described.

Q: What was the construction history of the Neelum-Jhelum project?

The project was conceived in the 1980s and approved in 1989. A Chinese consortium (CGGC-CMEC) won the construction contract in July 2007. Construction began in 2008 with an initial estimated cost of approximately $935 million. The 2005 Kashmir earthquake required seismic redesign, and funding shortfalls, geological challenges, and contractor disputes caused repeated delays. The final cost reached approximately PKR 500 billion (roughly $5 billion). The plant was commissioned on August 14, 2018, when the fourth turbine unit synchronized with the national grid.

Q: Could the Neelum-Jhelum damage cause flooding downstream?

The risk of catastrophic downstream flooding from the Noseri Dam is relatively limited compared to larger storage dams. The Noseri Dam is a 60-meter gravity dam holding 8 million cubic meters of water in a run-of-river pondage, a fraction of the capacity of major dams like Tarbela (13.7 billion cubic meters). No Pakistani source alleged a dam wall breach, reservoir compromise, or downstream flood risk from the reported damage. The damage was to ancillary intake infrastructure, not the dam’s structural components.

Q: How does this compare to the Nova Kakhovka Dam in Ukraine?

The situations differ dramatically in scale. The Nova Kakhovka Dam breach in June 2023 released approximately 18 billion cubic meters of water, displacing over 40,000 people and causing ecological devastation. The Neelum-Jhelum case involves damage to intake equipment at a dam holding 8 million cubic meters, with no breach reported. Both cases share the features of contested attribution, proximity to combat zones, and legal questions about infrastructure protection, but the humanitarian impact and physical destruction are not comparable.

Q: Why did Pakistan frame the damage as a water attack?

Pakistan’s framing of the Neelum-Jhelum damage as deliberate water-infrastructure targeting aligned with a broader diplomatic strategy. India had suspended the Indus Waters Treaty, reduced Chenab River flows by 90 percent, and begun flushing silt at dams in the Kashmir Valley. By framing the Neelum-Jhelum damage as part of this pattern, Pakistan could argue that India was conducting systematic water warfare against a nation whose agriculture is approximately 80 percent dependent on Indus system flows. The framing internationalized the dispute and invoked international humanitarian law protections specifically designed for water infrastructure.

Q: What role did China play in the Neelum-Jhelum project?

China’s involvement was substantial and multifaceted. The Chinese consortium CGGC-CMEC (China Gezhouba Group Company and China National Machinery Import and Export Corporation) won the construction contract in July 2007, and Chinese banks provided significant construction financing alongside Middle Eastern lenders. The plant was built with Chinese engineering expertise, equipment, and tunnel-boring machines, and CGGC was re-engaged for emergency repairs after the 2022 tailrace tunnel collapse. The total Chinese financial exposure to the project, through construction contracts and bank loans, represents a significant investment in Pakistan’s infrastructure. The Chinese role adds a geopolitical dimension to the damage debate, as damage to Chinese-built infrastructure in Pakistan during an India-Pakistan conflict touches on the broader China-India strategic competition. Beijing did not publicly comment on the Neelum-Jhelum damage allegations, consistent with its general approach of avoiding direct involvement in India-Pakistan bilateral disputes while quietly supporting Pakistan’s positions through diplomatic channels. The construction quality questions that have plagued the project, including the tunnel collapses attributed partly to design and construction inadequacies, also reflect on the Chinese consortium’s engineering standards and could influence Pakistan’s decisions about future infrastructure partnerships.

Q: Can satellite imagery verify the Neelum-Jhelum damage?

Commercial satellite imagery has limited utility for verifying the type of damage reported at Nauseri. De-sander intake gates and hydraulic protection systems are relatively small-scale infrastructure components that may not be clearly visible or distinguishable from orbital imagery. Satellite imagery could potentially confirm large-scale structural damage to the dam wall, cratering near the intake area, or debris fields consistent with blast effects. The absence of reported dam wall damage limits what satellite verification could meaningfully confirm or deny.

Q: What are the environmental implications of the damage?

If the de-sander system is non-functional, any future attempt to restart the plant would risk unsedimentated water entering the headrace tunnel, potentially accelerating the tunnel-lining damage that has already caused repeated shutdowns. The broader Neelum River ecosystem is also affected by the combined effects of reduced flows (due to the upstream Kishanganga diversion) and the ongoing disruption of the Neelum-Jhelum water management system. The environmental implications are secondary to the engineering and legal questions but add long-term complexity to the plant’s restoration.

Q: Will the Neelum-Jhelum plant ever operate at full capacity again?

The plant’s return to full capacity depends on resolving the headrace tunnel fault (predating the conflict), repairing any conflict-related damage at the intake site, and securing the necessary financing for both sets of repairs. As of mid-2025, the total repair bill was approaching PKR 30 billion for known issues, with the possibility of additional costs from the conflict damage assessment. The plant’s location near the Line of Control means that any future military exchange could cause further damage, creating a persistent operational risk. Whether Pakistan can mobilize the financial and engineering resources for full restoration remains uncertain.

Q: How does the Neelum-Jhelum case affect future India-Pakistan military planning?

The case creates awareness on both sides that conventional military operations near the Line of Control will produce infrastructure damage, deliberate or otherwise, and that such damage will be weaponized in the information war. Indian planners must account for the diplomatic cost of any infrastructure damage attributed to their operations, even if caused by Pakistani artillery. Pakistani planners must recognize that locating critical infrastructure near an active military frontier creates vulnerability. Both sides face the reality that the mutual infrastructure vulnerability along the LoC functions as a secondary deterrent, constraining military options in ways that nuclear weapons alone do not.