SOUTH Asia has long viewed peace through the familiar language of power: territory, armies, missiles, borders, alliances and economic weight. China, India, Pakistan and Bangladesh sit at different points on this spectrum, and their relative capabilities are often measured in GDP, reserves, industrial capacity, defence budgets, troop strength, air power and nuclear weapons. Yet the recent climate- induced disaster in Nepal has introduced another measure of power, one that does not respect borders and cannot be deterred by military superiority. It is the capacity of a state to absorb shock, protect its people, maintain essential services and recover without falling into political or economic crisis.
Seen through that lens, the region’s strategic map looks very different. China possesses an enormous economy, deep industrial capacity, extensive infrastructure and one of the world’s largest and most technologically advanced militaries. India combines a huge and rapidly growing economy with a large military, a nuclear arsenal, substantial manpower and an expanding industrial and technological base. Pakistan has considerable military capability, including nuclear weapons and a large standing force, but a smaller economy and tighter fiscal space. Bangladesh has a much smaller military and economic base, yet its experience with cyclones, floods, early-warning systems and community adaptation demonstrates that resilience is not simply a function of national wealth or firepower.
The contrast is important. Military power is designed principally to impose costs on an adversary or prevent an adversary from doing so. Economic power provides resources to sustain that effort. Climate resilience performs a different function: it reduces the number of occasions on which societies are pushed into crisis in the first place.
This matters because South Asia is unusually exposed to climate shocks. The monsoon is the region’s economic and ecological lifeline, while the Himalayas, great river systems, densely populated plains and low-lying coasts connect the fates of countries that frequently disagree on almost everything else. The World Bank estimates that more than half of South Asians have been affected by a natural disaster in the past two decades and climate change can turn economic strength into a temporary illusion. This distinction should reshape the meaning of security in South Asia. Climate stress can make confrontations more dangerous by weakening economies, intensifying competition over water and food, increasing displacement and narrowing governments’ room for manoeuvre.
Defence must acquire another layer that protects from climate risks.
The paradox is striking. States may spend billions acquiring weapons to prepare for threats that might never materialise while underinvesting in systems designed for disasters that are already occurring. Climate change is therefore like a progressively crippling disease. It does not ask whether a country is rich or poor, democratic or authoritarian, nuclear-armed or defenceless. It attacks the physical foundations on which every form of national power rests and undermines systems that support life.
The lesson is not that armies are irrelevant. States still need credible defence, and deterrence remains essential in a region marked by unresolved disputes. The lesson is that defence must acquire another layer that protects from climate risks. The logic is compelling because climate risks cross borders. The most rational response is therefore neither surrender nor unilateralism, but mutually reinforcing mechanisms in which each country gains more from cooperation than from acting alone.
The future balance of power in South Asia should consequently be measured in two columns. The first will continue to contain GDP, reserves, technology, troop numbers, missiles, aircraft and nuclear capability. The second should contain reservoirs, resilient cities, functioning hospitals, protected crops, reliable grids, emergency communications, early-warning coverage, fiscal buffers and the ability to recover quickly from catastrophe. The first column determines how much damage a state can threaten or withstand in war. The second determines whether its people can remain alive and its institutions functional when the enemy is a changing climate.
That is the great neutralising force of climate change. The wisest strategy, therefore, is not to abandon power, but to broaden its definition. South Asia needs layers of defence that reinforce one another: military deterrence, economic resilience, environmental cooperation and human security. Peace will depend not only on preventing countries from fighting each other, but also on helping them survive the common shocks that none can defeat alone.
The writer is a climate policy analyst.
Published in Dawn, September 22nd, 2026
