Chirchik Chokes, Glaciers Melt: Uzbekistan Faces a Drinking Water Crisis

Tashkent, Uzbekistan (UzDaily.com) — Uzbekistan once again stands on the brink of an ecological collapse. If the Aral Sea tragedy symbolized Soviet irresponsibility, today’s crisis is the result of its own failures: corruption, mismanagement, and denial of climate reality.

A Crisis in the Making

In the heart of Central Asia, water is life. Yet in Uzbekistan, over 90% of reservoirs are polluted, and the flow of the Syr Darya, Zeravshan, and Chirchik rivers — the arteries of drinking water — is dwindling at alarming rates.

Every day Uzbekistan consumes 4,478 liters of water. Annually, that amounts to more than 54 billion liters. On the portal, anyone in the world can personally witness the scale of consumption in real time. Water use is growing, yet sources of drinking water are being polluted and disappearing.

The reasons are layered. Industrial waste from textile, chemical, and mining enterprises continues to pour into rivers. Outdated infrastructure — more than 60% of treatment facilities — can no longer cope. And while climate change accelerates glacial melt, the state’s water governance system remains slow to adapt.

Already by 2030, the country faces a water deficit of 7 billion cubic meters — equivalent to four Charvak reservoirs. Tashkent residents consume up to 270 liters of water daily, more than double Berlin (124 liters) and Moscow (249 liters). This profligacy collides with the fact that 10 million Central Asians still lack access to safe drinking water.

Climate Pressure

Scientists meeting in Tashkent in September 2025 warned that Central Asia’s glaciers are approaching a tipping point. According to Abror Gafurov of the German Center for Land and Water Studies, the region will reach “peak water” around 2040, after which river inflows will collapse.

Doniyor Turgunov, director of the Institute of Hydrometeorology, stressed that if current melting trends continue, the region could lose up to 50% of its glaciers by 2050. Japanese researcher Temur Khujanazarov highlighted that snowfall in 2025 was abnormally low, triggering unprecedented glacier shrinkage. “Without continuous monitoring, it will be impossible to accurately predict the flow into the Amu Darya and Syr Darya,” he said.

The political factor adds fuel. Afghanistan’s massive Qosh-Tepa canal, under construction, threatens to further cut the already dwindling Amu Darya inflow, directly endangering Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, and Karakalpakstan.

Human Factor: Mismanagement and Corruption

Misallocation of water resources is not merely technical — it is deeply political. Reports from Bukhara’s Peshku district reveal how officials prioritize rice fields near canals, demanding bribes of $200 per hectare, while cotton farmers further away watch their crops wither.

In Karakalpakstan, rice cultivation has been banned due to shortages, while neighboring Bukhara and Khorezm continue unrestricted planting. “Why must we sacrifice, while upstream provinces grow water-intensive rice unchecked?” asks farmer Gayrat Akhmedov, calling for nationwide limits.

These distortions are systemic. Farmers in Ahangaran complain of illegal diversions that leave canals dry. In the Fergana Valley, women farmers — who run 21% of farms — face worsening shortages but cannot afford water-saving technologies due to high costs and poor quality equipment.

Expert Voices: From NGOs to Hydrologists

Pavel Volkov, director of the environmental NGO Indigo, sees a grim reality:

“What we face is not just scarcity, but systemic failure. Laws exist on paper, but enforcement is hollow. Wastewater is dumped unchecked, treatment plants rot, and corruption erodes trust. People do not see transparency. Until civil society is allowed oversight and the state prioritizes accountability, the cycle of abuse will continue.”

Volkov insists that without public involvement and independent monitoring, “Uzbekistan risks repeating the mistakes of the Aral Sea disaster, but this time the collapse will strike its very sources of drinking water.”

Denis Sorokin, a hydrologist, offers a sharper analogy when assessing the Chirchik River — Tashkent’s main drinking artery:

“The situation is twofold. On the one hand, the legislative facade seems to be in place. There is Cabinet of Ministers Resolution No. 471 of October 29, 2003 (On the Establishment of the Water Protection Zone and Coastal Strip of the Chirchik River in Tashkent Region and the city of Tashkent), which is supposed to protect the Chirchik, allocate sanitary and water protection zones, and designate protective territories.

On the other hand, the protection has never been enforced: no forest plantations were created, recreational zones are not respected, and construction has begun almost right on the riverbanks. In addition, fish farms operate directly in the riverbed, discharging waste and feed, polluting the bottom and the water. The ecosystem suffers direct and obvious harm.

What’s even worse, oversight by responsible agencies such as the Ministry of Ecology was essentially formal and poorly enforced. So although government bodies are designated and laws are written, proper implementation is absent. As a result, the river turns into a ‘victim of paper authority’ without real action.

Imagine a house that has everything on paper — blueprints, diagrams, fire safety instructions, even evacuation signs. But in reality, there are no fire extinguishers, the wiring sparks, the roof leaks, and the doors are jammed. Formally, everything is correct, ‘according to the law,’ but in fact the house could burn down or collapse at any moment. The same goes for the Chirchik: the laws and decrees hang there like signs on the wall, but in practice the river remains without protection, and its ecosystem is collapsing.

In 2025, Uzbekistan’s Water Code was updated, expanding the scope of responsibility (it mentions the Ministry of Water Resources, the Ministry of Ecology, geology, the hydrometeorological service, and the sanitary-epidemiological service), but does it inspire confidence in the ordinary citizen? Let it not turn out to be just beautiful words on paper, without the will to enforce them. Because if real monitoring, penalties, and protective measures are not implemented, the Chirchik will slowly but surely suffocate. And no one will be held accountable — after all, all the documents look correct, but no one is responsible for them. Or rather, there will be scapegoats, but no real culprits.”

Regional Stakes and International Models

The World Bank estimates that Central Asian states lose nearly $5 billion annually due to water-energy mismanagement. By 2050, without reform, the region may become fully water-deficit.

Other countries have shown pathways forward:

• Israel cut agricultural water use to 55% through drip irrigation covering 75% of farmland.
• Singapore built a diversified “Four National Taps” strategy — desalination, imports, rainwater, and recycled “NEWater.”
• Kazakhstan, though far from perfect, uses only 33% of its available resources, compared to Uzbekistan’s staggering 169%.

These models demonstrate that efficiency, accountability, and innovation can reverse crisis trajectories — but only if adapted to local realities.

Roadmap for Survival

Uzbekistan’s water crisis is not inevitable. Leading local experts and NGOs propose a threefold roadmap:

• Accountability and transparency — enforce anti-corruption measures in water allocation, and allow civil society monitoring.
• Technological adaptation — expand drip irrigation beyond 10% of farmland, digitize irrigation monitoring, and penalize illegal diversions.
• Climate integration — incorporate glacier monitoring and WEFE Nexus (Water-Energy-Food-Ecosystem) principles into policy.
• Regional diplomacy — negotiate equitable transboundary water sharing with Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, and Afghanistan.
• Public engagement — launch a permanent “Water” media platform with scientists, farmers, and citizens.
• International cooperation — scale EU-funded projects and adopt proven solutions from Israel, Singapore, and beyond.

Conclusion

The Aral Sea disaster taught Central Asia that ignoring ecological limits comes at a catastrophic price. Today, Uzbekistan’s rivers are giving the same warning. Unless words on paper are matched by real enforcement and adaptation, the country may find that its lifeblood — safe drinking water — has already slipped away.

Kamila Fayziyeva