Nournews: The water crisis in Iran is perhaps not merely a climatic issue, but rather a test of civilization. In a country whose economic and cultural vitality—from the Achaemenid to the Safavid era—was shaped by coping with water scarcity and living in a dry climate, water management has now become a field to test governance wisdom. At times, it has also become a stage for emotional decision-making. From “praying for rain” to “evacuation of Tehran,” and from “transfer of water from the sea” to “water rationing,” all are measures proposed to solve the water crisis by various actors. However, behind this superficial diversity lies a fundamental shortage: a lack of or weakness in unified thinking, a comprehensive plan, and long-term will for sustainable water governance in dry or semi-dry climates.

From Dry Climate to Desirable Development
Iran has historically been a dry country with a low rate of precipitation. Its civilization was born in such an arid basin, and tools like qanats and the traditional division of water created an intelligent ecological system adapted to this reality. However, since the early years of the 14th solar century, the direction of development in Iran has diverged from this climate. In civil programs after the 1320 solar century, the expansion of agriculture and industrialization, regardless of limited water resources, became a slogan of progress. The extensive policy of dam-building, the expansion of industries in desert areas requiring water, and the growth of cities in arid regions lacking environmental support have pushed Iran to an unsustainable point.

This phenomenon is what many geologists and planners have described as “wet development in a dry climate,” meaning imagining progress based on the development patterns of countries with high precipitation. The outcome of this historical mistake is not only a water crisis, but also a chain of energy, agricultural, and environmental imbalances that have engulfed the country simultaneously.

The current crisis is a crisis of decision-making. In the past century, Iran has never had holistic governance over its territory. Planning was sectional, temporary, and reactive: the Ministry of Energy focused on water provision, the Ministry of Agriculture on increasing production, the Ministry of Industry on industrial expansion, and the Ministry of Interior on urban development—all without a unified map of territorial potential and resource balance. As a result, dry lands have been kept alive artificially through piping and pumping water, cities have expanded irregularly, and farms are on the verge of subsidence due to overconsumption of groundwater. Now, Tehran, once a symbol of modernization, faces severe water scarcity, and the city that was supposed to be the center of development has become a symbol of imbalance.

The water crisis in Iran is, in fact, a sign of the death of the narrow-minded pattern of governance. When the country’s population increased from 8 million to more than 80 million, while ecological potential remained fixed, it was inevitable that water would reach a crisis point.

In recent years, another phenomenon has contributed to this crisis: the political economy of water. Consulting firms, contractors, and profiteers of large water transfer and desalination projects have sometimes become the determinants of macro-level policies.

In the meantime, the idea of relocating population to the southern coasts—proposed by international consultants since the 1970s—has remained on hold for half a century, because balanced development offers no immediate financial attraction. As a result, the country has shifted from “population management” to “crisis management.” Instead of bringing people to the water, we try to bring water to the heart of the desert at multi-billion-dollar costs.

Returning to Climatic Reality
One of the signs of weak planning is the inability to understand the interconnectedness of crises. The water crisis is inseparable from the energy crisis; every water transfer project consumes enormous electricity, and every pumping operation relies on gas and oil. Consequently, energy imbalances themselves become obstacles to sustainable water supply. This is why experts warn that “imbalances” are transferred from one sector to another: from electricity to water, from water to gas, and from gas to the environment. This vicious cycle can only be corrected through a holistic, cross-sectoral perspective—a perspective that still lacks a solid place in Iran’s governance system.

The solution to the crisis lies neither in miraculous technologies nor solely in prayer, nor in evacuating the capital, but in accepting Iran’s climatic reality. We must recognize that this land was never designed for high population density, reckless agriculture, or water-intensive industrial development. In this path, three fundamental measures are necessary:

Population management and urban decentralization—that is, the gradual relocation of part of the population and capital to the southern coasts and areas with natural carrying capacity.
Reforming territorial governance structures—that is, creating a cross-sectoral institution that considers water, energy, agriculture, and urban planning policies as a unified framework.
Cultural and educational reconstruction—that is, promoting public understanding of resource limitations and returning to indigenous practices adapted to aridity, including reviving local water knowledge, smart irrigation, and responsible consumption.

The water crisis is an opportunity to redefine development in Iran. Future development derives meaning not from building more dams and wells, but from increasing efficiency, environmental justice, and adaptation to climate. If Iran’s dry land is managed based on climatic rationality, it can become a model of resilience in the region; but if it remains trapped in cycles of short-term and symbolic decisions, the very civilization that once invented qanats may be overwhelmed by its endless wells.

Ultimately, Iran’s water crisis is more a crisis of decision-making and perspective than a crisis of nature. Until Iranian policymakers learn to balance developmental aspirations with the geographical reality of the land, any proposed solution—whether prayer or seawater transfer—will only provide a short delay in the gradual erosion of an ancient civilization.