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In the eastern front-line towns of Ukraine, local residents are boarding evacuation buses to head further west. Everyone has their own reason to leave. But for those who have withstood the impact of the current conflict thus far, one reason, heard again and again, is fueling their exodus: water. Or rather, the lack of it.
The widespread use of explosive weapons in civilian areas has pushed Ukraine's water system to the edge of collapse. Dams, pipes, sewerage systems and water treatment works have all been subjected to extensive attacks. As winter grips the country, the hardships are profound and increasing.
Attacks on water supplies are as old as war itself—from ancient Mesopotamia, where water was diverted from a rival city in 2500 B.C., to similar systematic attacks in modern-day countries, from Colombia to Syria, Mali to Myanmar.
As the first U.N. special rapporteur on the human right to safe drinking water and sanitation, I've witnessed how combatants repeatedly exploit human dependence on water to achieve their war aims. Yet, deliberate and indiscriminate attacks on this critical service—and the power supplies required for it to function—can be a violation of international humanitarian law.
Today, we are seeing the same egregious assault on these fundamental human rights unfold once more in the heart of Europe. The weaponization of water has been a key element of this war. Sixteen million people across Ukraine are in need of water, sanitation and hygiene services.
Among them, are tens of thousands of people in Mariupol, who were cut off from clean water and sanitation facilities during the recent siege. Uncollected corpses contaminated wells, creating prime conditions to fuel the spread of diseases like dysentery and cholera.
Around Kharkiv to the north, missile strikes knocked out water and power, as they did across other major cities in Donetsk and Luhansk oblasts. While bottles of water are available in shops, the impoverishing impact of the war means that many cannot afford them.
In the southern city of Mykolaiv, residents went without fresh water for months, forcing them to venture out onto the streets to fill bottles from distribution tanks under shellfire. The lack of fresh water forced city officials to start pumping yellowish, salty water from a nearby river estuary to clear sewers and allow residents to wash and flush toilets.
Its arrival has come at a cost, corroding the city's pipes which now repeatedly leak and will have to be replaced at a huge cost that the devastated local economy cannot meet.
New attacks on energy infrastructure in the last few weeks are exacerbating this dire problem, causing rolling blackouts and disruptions to water and sewerage across the country.
Even if all the funding to fix this colossal problem is raised, restoring access isn't simple. Dozens of water engineers have been killed or injured since the conflict first erupted in 2014, with several more wounded this year since the full-scale invasion.
At their core, attacks on water are attacks on what makes us human. Protecting this indispensable resource during wartime has never been more urgent. A lack of sanitation impedes people's right to dignity, forcing women, for example, to expose themselves in public when going to the toilet and heightening the risk of sexual violence.
Dirty water presents a clear threat to our right to health too, causing fatal diseases—including diarrhea that can be more deadly than bullets, killing more children than violence in conflict.
Under international humanitarian law, the rules of distinction, proportionality and precautions are clear: attacks must not be directed at civilian objects, or risk causing civilian casualties or damage to civilian objects if targeting military installations. Those tenets sit alongside a whole host of other global legal norms—from international human rights law to the Fourth Geneva Convention's demand that an occupying power maintains public health and hygiene.
But we have all seen how these norms can be trampled over. While there is no quick fix, there are tools to help.
Accountability is a strong deterrent. Robust national laws that criminalize practices that go against international humanitarian law and bring perpetrators before a court are imperative. The wheels of justice turn slowly so more immediate economic and diplomatic options are needed too, whether adopting sanctions, cutting commercial ties or using U.N. bodies to apply pressure. The scrutiny that comes from independent fact-finding missions may also improve behavior.
Education is key. The laws of war must be well-known among combatants so that an armed force can never plead ignorance. The media, and societies in general, must be well informed too so that governments can feel the full force of public condemnation, which in turn may compel a change in practices.
Above all, by clearly establishing the rules and laws during stable periods of peace, alongside the various mechanisms through which to ensure adherence, these norms are more likely to be respected during times of war.
Any suggestion, though, that there is an easy answer would be naïve. As horrors continue to unfold in Ukraine, talk of political condemnations or public information campaigns seems so inadequate in the circumstances.
While these tools offer us a blueprint, will they save the lives of people who are suffering at this very moment? Tragically, no. Nor will they instantaneously uphold the human rights of water and sanitation in today's conflicts.
But they will bring us closer to making that ideal a reality.
Catarina de Albuquerque is CEO of the U.N.-hosted Sanitation and Water for All global partnership.
The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.
