There were two Bhutans on display during Narendra Modi’s visit this month. The first: a trusted partner, modernising rapidly with Indian support, inaugurating hydroelectric projects, and signing healthcare deals. The second: a nation that <a href="https://www.fmreview.org/gazmere-bishwo/#:~:text=In%201990%2D91%2C%20about%20a,are%20therefore%20not%20Bhutanese%20citizens.">ethnically cleansed 17% of its population </a>and has never been held accountable.
Modi chose to see only the <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-concludes-bhutan-visit-with-prayers-for-peace-and-prosperity">first </a>during his <a href="https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/india/india-announces-rs-4000-cr-concessional-credit-line-to-fund-energy-projects-in-bhutan/articleshow/125253915.cms?utm_source=contentofinterest&amp;utm_medium=text&amp;utm_campaign=cppst">11-12 November visit</a>, granting $450 million in credit, offering birthday tributes to Fourth King Jigme Singye Wangchuk, and inaugurating another hydropower project.
New Delhi has opted for strategic silence on Bhutan’s systematic persecution of the Lhotshampas in the 1990s. The displaced remain scattered across the world and in refugee camps in Nepal, their property seized, their citizenship revoked.&nbsp;
Now, on that same contested land Bhutan is building the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Gelephu Mindful City (GMC)</a>, a megaproject intended to <a href="https://kuenselonline.com/news/pm-modi-announces-inr-40-billion-credit-line-new-rail-links-and-land-for-bhutanese-temple-in-varanasi">connect directly to Indian infrastructure</a>. The victims are gone, and democratic India’s values remain conspicuously absent.&nbsp;
With no Lhotshampas left to challenge the official narrative and India unwilling to raise it, Bhutan continues to suppress dissent with impunity.&nbsp;
Earlier this year, social media influencer Raghu Pati Subedi was arrested on the Assam side of Gelephu after returning from a visit to relatives in India. His family members reportedly came under intense pressure, including threats of arrest, accusing them of hiding his whereabouts. After his arrest, he was transported to Thimphu and imprisoned.
This was not an isolated incident. It is part of systemic repression that first gained international attention in the 1990s, when over 100,000 Nepali-speaking Lhotshampa were systematically stripped of their citizenship and forcibly exiled. This mass expulsion, which human rights organisations have characterised as ethnic cleansing, created a decades-long refugee crisis that continues to define the regional political and human rights landscape.&nbsp;
EXODUS
The Lhotshampa crisis of the 1990s was not a spontaneous event but the culmination of years of state-led discrimination. Through a series of legislative acts, notably the 1985 Citizenship Act and the 1989 Driglam Namzha, the ‘One Nation, One People’ policy, the Bhutanese state systematically dismantled the rights of its Nepali-speaking citizens.&nbsp;
The use of the Nepali language was suppressed, the traditional dress of the ruling ethnic group was mandated, and citizenship was revoked en masse, rendering a significant portion of the population stateless in their own homeland.
The new manuscript I am editing has harrowing accounts by the authors of those atrocities. The parallels with what happened to Subedi recently are striking and troubling, showing that even after 35 years the regime has not changed its spots. The methods may have evolved, but the repression against dissidents remains disturbingly consistent.
This refugee exodus was an immense and unasked-for burden on Nepal. Despite being a country grappling with its own political instability and limited resources, Nepal accommodated them on humanitarian grounds. Nepal has consistently advocated for a durable solution centered on the refugees’ right to safe, voluntary, and dignified repatriation.
For years, it engaged in bilateral talks with Bhutan, culminating in a joint verification process. However, these efforts ultimately foundered on what Nepal described as ‘continued rigidity and non-implementation of the agreed decisions by the Bhutanese side’.
Nepal fulfilled its moral and humanitarian duty, but the international community largely failed to hold Bhutan accountable. Bhutan’s rulers deflected global attention with the masterful narrative of Gross National Happiness (GNH), while the grim reality in the refugee camps persisted.&nbsp;
Ultimately, with repatriation proving impossible, Nepal acquiesced to a third-country resettlement program led by a group of eight countries, including the United States, Canada, and Australia. From 2007 to 2016, more than 113,500 Bhutanese refugees were resettled in <a href="https://www.unhcr.org/media/nepal-factsheet">one of the largest group resettlement programmes globally</a>, though 6,365 remain in refugee camps in eastern Nepal.
While this solution provided a lifeline for thousands, it was a tragic capitulation to Bhutan’s ethnic homogenisation project. The refugees’ right to return to their homeland has been denied. It is a cautionary tale about the limits of international diplomacy in the face of state intransigence.
Bhutan’s global brand is one of its most successful exports. The <a href="https://www.gnhcentrebhutan.org/">Gross National Happiness </a>doctrine, which promotes holistic well-being over just economic growth, has captivated the Western imagination and policymakers. It offers a vision of a mindful, environmentally conscious, and peaceful Himalayan kingdom. This carefully cultivated image has historically aimed to shield Bhutan from the level of scrutiny applied to other nations with similar human rights records.
The GNH facade, however, cracks under the weight of documented evidence. The same kingdom that champions ‘happiness’ has, for decades, maintained a justice system that human rights groups allege relies on torture, coerced confessions, and draconian laws to silence opposition.
The 1992 National Security Act, with its vague definitions of ‘treasonable acts’ against the Tsa-Wa-Sum (King, Country, and People), has been a primary tool for suppressing political dissent, particularly from the Lhotshampa.
Overlooked by the international community and ignored by global powers including India, in responding robustly to the ethnic cleansing of the 1990s sent a clear message to Thimphu: such actions could be undertaken with impunity. The monarchy emerged unscathed, its reputation burnished rather than tarnished.&nbsp;
This historical impunity now echoes in the case of Raghu Pati Subedi and the <a href="https://www.cijnepal.org/new-list-of-political-prisoners-expected-to-set-off-discussion-on-bhutans-human-rights-record">continued imprisonment of dozens of political prisoners</a> of conscience. The global community’s reluctance to challenge the GNH narrative has, in effect, become a form of complicity.
The arrest and sentencing of a social media influencer demonstrates how old tactics have been adapted for the digital age. Subedi, 40, was a new kind of threat to the state-controlled narrative and he had to be made an example of.&nbsp;
As the founder and administrator of the popular Facebook page ‘The Don of Asia’, he bypassed traditional, state-influenced media to speak directly to about 78,000 followers. His content, informational and satirical videos on rural poverty, corruption, and the GMC project, was the kind of social media activism that was deemed intolerable.
Subedi was arrested in early 2025 and sentenced to 24 years in prison. The charges allegedly stemmed from Subedi’s social media criticism of the GMC, a flagship project of Nepal-born Bhutanese fifth King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck.&nbsp;
For <a href="https://thenewamericansmag.com/2024/11/18/the-kings-gelephu-mindfulness-city/#:~:text=Ganga%20Lamitare%2C%20who%20owns%20four,ancestors%20in%20building%20the%20nation.">Bhutanese refugees like Gangaram Lamitare</a>, the GMC represents a bitter irony, a development rising on their confiscated ancestral lands.&nbsp;
Gangaram, who owns four acres where the GMC’s international airport is now under construction, says: “Many people from villages fled at night in 1990, leaving everything behind to escape oppression. Now, the Bhutanese king and ministers are spreading falsehoods worldwide, calling this land vacant, which actually belongs to those forced to leave the country.”&nbsp;
There are signs that international support that has benefited Bhutan may be waning. The United Nations has become increasingly vocal and last year the <a href="https://www.ohchr.org/sites/default/files/documents/issues/detention-wg/opinions/session101/a-hrc-wgad-60-2024-bhutan-advance-edited-ve.pdf">UN Working Group on Arbitrary Detention</a> said the detention of several Bhutanese political prisoners was arbitrary and illegal under international law.&nbsp;
In April 2025 from a group of six UN human rights experts raised grave concerns about the use of torture, denial of fair trials, and the ‘severe chilling effect’ of Bhutan’s legal framework on civic space. These developments owe much to the consistent advocacy of the Hague-based Global Campaign for the Release of Political Prisoners in Bhutan (GCRPPB) since its formation.
However, they also reflect broader shifts in international human rights scrutiny. This places Bhutan’s key international partners, particularly the European Union, in a critical position. Bhutan enjoys lucrative benefits under the EU’s ‘Everything but Arms’ trade scheme, which grants developing countries tariff-free access to the EU market contingent on respect for human rights.&nbsp;
The EU is also a significant provider of development aid to Bhutan which provides it with substantial leverage. In April 2025, members of the <a href="https://bsky.app/profile/saskiabricmont.bsky.social/post/3lmrn5mkmrs2q">European Parliament formally called on Bhutan</a> to release all political prisoners. This action signals a growing recognition that trade and partnership cannot be divorced from human rights obligations.&nbsp;
“Bhutan’s international partners and investors, including the EU, should make it clear that they expect Bhutan to comply with its human rights obligations and release them without further delay,” says Meenakshi Ganguly, of Human Rights Watch.&nbsp;
Bhutan stands at a crossroads. Its desire for deeper global economic integration is colliding with its unresolved history of human rights abuses. The international community now has a choice: either continue being charmed by the myth of a happy shangri-la or insist that the kingdom adheres to democratic values it professes to the world.&nbsp;
Nepal’s recent Gen-Z uprising offers a lesson to Bhutan. In September, when authorities attempted to ban 26 social media, Nepali youth took to the streets and, within hours, toppled the entire pro-establishment political apparatus. Their message was clear: in an age of digital connectivity and mass mobilisation, authoritarian tactics such as detaining social media influencers are both unjust and ultimately unsustainable.
This incident echoes the prophetic warnings of Devi Bhakta Lamitare, Bhutan’s first-generation democratic leader, who died in exile in India in 2022. In his seminal 1970 book
Dankindo Bhutan, Lamitare chronicled the systematic suppression of people’s rights and envisioned a path toward liberation.
Before his death, I worked with him to update and edit this work, which the Bhutan Media Society published posthumously in 2023. In a December 2020 interview I conducted for the book on the Ganga riverbank in Haridwar, Lamitare laid out a stark three-front offensive: political mobilisation from within India to awaken resistance inside Bhutan itself, relentless pressure on New Delhi to champion democracy, and a global ‘pamphlet war’ waged by resettled Bhutanese in the West.&nbsp;
Only through such sustained action, he argues, can Bhutanese citizens win the right to choose their own rulers, a principle India, the world’s largest democracy, should be championing, not abandoning.
Binod Dhungel is the Nepal correspondent for Reporters Without Borders.
<a href="http://linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod" target="_blank">linkedin.com/in/dhungelbinod</a>, @BinodDhungel

Binod Dhungel

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Bhutan imprisons social media influencer

Bhuthan भुठान starts with Bishnu Bahadur KC played by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/dhuwa-smoke-telefilm,2671">Hari Bansha Acharya</a> on a call, requesting to speak to the visa officer. By this point, he had <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-should-now-allow-visa-on-arrival">applied for a visa </a>to Bhutan 10 times, but was denied each time. KC was a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-women-excel-in-sports-in-2024-z9ramyct">national football player </a>in Bhutan in 1988 before he and other Nepali-speaking Lhotsampa people were forced out of the country in the 1990s as part of the Druk regime’s ‘One Nation One People’ campaign. Over 100,000 Bhutanese Nepalis were forced out, driven across India and dumped in Nepal where they lived in seven<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp"> refugee camps</a> supervised by the United Nations and other charities until they were resettled in the United States, Australia, New Zealand and some European countries starting in 2007. In the fictional movie with the satirical English title The World’s Happiest Man, KC has resettled in the state of Ohio in the US but wishes to visit his home country once before he dies. Between flashbacks, we learn KC has died without having fulfilled his wish. &nbsp; The drama then focuses on KC’s two families from two marriages as they debate whether to cremate him as per <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/from-nepali-press/muslim-hindu,2996">Hindu rites </a>or give him a Christian burial. A mediator played by Hollywood actor Bruce Dern urges them to take a firm decision before it is too long.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250430140420_b398a08091b866da2b0b8f6c1e6e26781609749aba896bfd2c68a10a519295c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20250430140420_b398a08091b866da2b0b8f6c1e6e26781609749aba896bfd2c68a10a519295c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="945" height="945" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan, the movie"> </figure>  There are drawn out scenes of KC being baptised and when he is confronted by his first wife from Darjeeling played by Anuradha Majumdar, he says he changed his religion in the hope that he will be <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/bhutan-s-refugees-between-hope-and-despair">allowed back in Bhutan</a>.&nbsp; We find out KC has a second wife, a Christian Nepali played by Puja Chand. Dayahang Rai as the younger son doesn’t have much screen time to flex his acting chops. &nbsp; Acharya competently portrays a man that is equal parts haunted by the memories of and longing for his home country. KC’s pain and loss is acute when he is teaching football to Gungun but between mid-scene, he freezes, perhaps lost in memories of being in Bhutan’s national team. &nbsp; In another scene, KC recalls his mother singing a lullaby in Dzongkha. He also has a box filled with medals, photographs and a football which he deflates with a knife in a powerful depiction of his <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home?fb_comment_id=1506516030025634">complicated emotions about his homeland</a>. KC keeps checking his mailbox in the hopes that his <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=4977">visa application</a> has been accepted. He says in Nepali: “If a tree that has already struck roots in one place is shifted to another, it will not survive.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250430140420_4a9c27410326489576c04dedf40016bda3825e8f9663317f54fbfec4cbda6d34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_9" data-image-id="20250430140420_4a9c27410326489576c04dedf40016bda3825e8f9663317f54fbfec4cbda6d34" data-rendition-name="original" width="1422" height="2048" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutan, the movie"> </figure>  Dern’s character says that the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/comment/nepal-s-transitional-justice-and-the-west-s-recalibration">western world</a> has become “lonely in pursuit of happiness”, another reference to Bhutan’s obsession with its Gross National Happiness index. Scenes shift quickly throughout making the story difficult to follow at times. The use of symbolism is a trite overdone. Nonetheless, भुठान is a nuanced depiction of raw pain and agony of losing one’s homeland. But one cannot help but leave the theatre feeling deflated. KC dies without having visited <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-bhutan-dreams-big">Bhutan</a>, but perhaps he does in his afterlife. It is up to the audience to create its own ending to this sad story of exile. भुठान Mad Monkey Films, 2025 Directed by Binod Paudel 102 minutes In cinemas in Nepal

Bhutan, the movie

In Bhutan, this is one sentence one hears often: “We are learning from <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/now-the-economy-stupid">Nepal’s mistakes.</a>” Considering lack of political accountability and chronic incompetence of the past decades, Nepal indeed sets an example of what not to do. But Nepal has not forcibly evicted one sixth of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-population-to-cross-30-million">its population</a> like Bhutan did in the early 1990s. More than 100,000 <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mindfulness-about-bhutan-s-refugees">refugees </a>were transported across India to Nepal and lived for over 15 years in camps in eastern Nepal. Most have since been resettled in third countries, but there are still about 6,000 elderly refugees who want to return to their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/searching-for-a-homeland-away-from-home">homeland</a>. This history has strained relations between the two Himalayan nations which share many of the same socio-economic, geopolitical and environmental challenges. Despite the asymmetry in size and population between Bhutan and Nepal, there is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/missing-out-on-nepal-s-tourism-potential">untapped potentia</a>l for them to learn more from each other and cooperate.&nbsp; Both have abundant <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-s-new-national-natural-resources-and-fiscal-commission">natural resources</a> and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pump-water-store-energy">clean energy sources</a>, both are sandwiched between two giant emerging global powers. Nepal and Bhutan also struggle with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/staying-home-to-create-jobs">creating enough jobs at home</a> and prevent <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-editorial/the-migration-myth">mass outmigration</a> of their youth. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/guest-column/nepal-in-the-new-world-order">Nepal in the new world order</a>, Dhirendra Nalbo Bhutan’s defence and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/no-binary-foreign-policy?fb_comment_id=3583384368393672_3586424038089705">foreign policy </a>are handled by New Delhi, and there is a heavy presence of the Indian Army along Bhutan’s border with China, especially along the disputed Doklam region. Nepal is nominally more independent, and has tried to steer equidistant relations with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/india-china-rail-race">India and China</a>. Bhutan generates 2,326MW of electricity from plants built mostly by Indian companies and half this power is exported to India. The government’s Druk Holdings and Investment is looking to harness an additional 15,000MW of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/nepal-s-1st-hydroelectric-plant-is-a-museum-piece">hydroelectric</a> and 5,000MW solar power for which it will need over $25 billion in investments. There seems to be an acceptance among Bhutan’s officials that this is <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-geopolitics-of-nepal-s-politics">the geopolitical reality</a>, and the country has to live with exclusive <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-india-power-play">Indian involvement </a>in its energy planning.&nbsp; Nepal pursued a different path in developing hydropower, with private producers and international investors generating nearly 70% of electricity in the country. But India has gradually asserted itself in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepals-hydropower-goes-international?fbclid=IwAR1bfKP8flv5RQTnYALhmupWQH2hKL_BKiuylbGogpIbCd-dwY1goNvYsUY_aem_ASFlf8dMv3b2J0BWfSJITaR74lDt3yxH9t8Cg-eYZxRLLOS_dVwJwMTXqK7nxD6tfvI&amp;mibextid=Zxz2cZ">Nepal’s hydropower development</a> by sidelining Chinese involvement, and pressuring Nepal not to allow outside investment in <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/reservoirs-of-suspicion/hydropower-geopolitics%20,3991">large reservoir projects</a> on its <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-revenge-of-the-rivers">rivers</a>. The cascade of three out of four big hydropower plants in the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/upper-arun-question-mark">Arun Basin</a> in eastern Nepal are all being built by an Indian state enterprise, more or less along the same model as Indian projects in Bhutan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022812024_ac6cf08607ee0873bb4f82e19d0917050c73b7efa8e7c3912525a3cd2efa85f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_19" data-image-id="2025022812024_ac6cf08607ee0873bb4f82e19d0917050c73b7efa8e7c3912525a3cd2efa85f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1440" height="1439" loading="lazy" alt="Photo: GMC"> </figure>  “We are a 100% hydro energy portfolio with about 2.5GW installed capacity with about another 1.5 GW in the pipeline in the next year or so,” says Ujjwal Deep Dahal, CEO of Druk Holdings and Investment. “While we are a net exporter of energy over a year, winter demands are increasing and we look to invest for additional power and importantly firm power.” Nepal also imports power from India in winter when its rivers are running low and demand is highest, but this is at a more expensive price than it exports during the rest of the year. Ecological and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/agroecology-nepal-s-answer-to-climate-change">climate concerns</a> are prompting Bhutan to diversify from harnessing hydropower to explore pump storage, geothermal and solar power – a model that Nepal could also pursue. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/pump-water-store-energy">Pump water, store energy</a>, Dipak Gyawali and Sudhindra Sharma While tensions between India and China affect Bhutan more than Nepal, Kathmandu has failed to adopt a more independent water and energy strategy. Despite being four times larger than Bhutan, Nepal has only 3,3000MW of installed capacity. It has also failed to increase domestic demand by electrifying industries, irrigation, transport and household consumption so surplus energy is not wasted. Nepal’s goal is to generate 28,000MW by 2035 but transmission and distribution infrastructure will have to keep pace. The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-great-game-2nd-half">suspension of the US-supported MCC project </a>may further delay energy trade and distribution. Climate collapse is rapidly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/himalayan-icecap-melting-faster-than-thought">melting Himalayan glaciers</a>, and it is going to be risky building large expensive hydropower plants in Nepal and Bhutan. Both countries must learn from a glacial lake outburst flood in 2023 that swept away the 1,200MW Teesta III Projectin Sikkim, a $1.7 billion dam. In Nepal, the $800 million <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/the-monsoon-mess-in-melamchi">Melamchi Water Supply Project </a>for Kathmandu Valley was severely damaged in a flood in 2021. The eastern Himalaya in Nepal, Bhutan, India and southern Tibet are affected more severely by glacial lake expansion, and combined with seismicity post a major threat to energy security in the region. “We cannot predict disasters like these but we can’t also be fatalistic, we need to be pragmatic and strike the right balance,” says Pema Gyamtsho from Bhutan, and director general of Kathmandu-based ICIMOD (International Centre for Integrated Mountain Development). “We have to invest in risk assessment before developing mega infrastructure. Where the risk is high, we should opt for <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/small-is-still-possible">smaller hydropower and other alternatives like solar and biogas</a>. We should have options rather than putting all our eggs in the same basket.” <h2>GDP, GNH, GMC</h2> Bhutan’s audacious Gelephu Mindfulness City mega-project is a risky gamble on the future&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022812020_64d59d3ca75b44983167c70ba340afa56b1f88e4b6807605101bed4671abe198.jpg" data-media-id="editor_26" data-image-id="2025022812020_64d59d3ca75b44983167c70ba340afa56b1f88e4b6807605101bed4671abe198" data-rendition-name="original" width="1778" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Small Bhutan dreams big NT"> <figcaption>Rendering of a section of the Gelephu Mindfulness City (GMC), which is currently under development. Photo: GMC</figcaption> </figure>  On 17 December 2023, Bhutan’s King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck announced the setting up of the Gelephu Mindfulness City (GMC) to be an international hub focused on energy, connectivity and skills for the 21st century.&nbsp; The city will be a 2,500 sq km Special Administrative Region to take advantage of Bhutan’s <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/nepal-can-lead-in-zero-carbon">clean energy</a> to power an information technology corridor with AI data centres. It will try to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/turning-nepal-into-singapore">replicate Singapore</a> in a city three times larger, with its own hydropower plants generating 5,000MW.&nbsp; “Gelephu will become a gateway connecting Bhutan to the world and the future,” the King said. “The road we have chosen is a gateway to the world – to markets, capital, new ideas, knowledge, and technology towards our future, and to chart our destiny.”&nbsp; The rapid spread of energy-intensive <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/people-power/nepal-as-an-ai-power-bank">generative AI applications</a> have prompted technology companies to scout for clean energy sources to power their data centres. Some like Amazon and Google are even building their own small nuclear power plants.&nbsp; “Investing in green energy with our hydro potential of over 35,000MW is a priority and the strategy on AI data centres are an important anchor industry,” says Ujjwal Deep Dahal of Druk Holdings and Investment. Bhutan’s Finance Minister Lyonpo Lekey Dorji told visiting editors here earlier this month that energy cooperation under the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC) and the South Asia Free Trade Agreement (SAFTA) were going nowhere, and a new framework was needed. “Significant connectivity challenges, poor infrastructure, and often tense diplomatic relations lead to limited cross-border trade and movements of goods and people,” Dorji added. “The GMC is envisaged to help not only Bhutan but also the South Asian region, and particularly the neighbouring states of India.”&nbsp; Economists say that if countries in the region could go beyond geopolitical differences and increase trade, each country in South Asia stands to gain from the regional energy trade. While Nepal and Bhutan have export potential for clean energy, Bangladesh can reduce its carbon footprint by buying cleaner fuel from neighbours. “There are significant benefits if you increase investment in transmission across the region, increase connectivity, with more liberal trade,” says Simon Stolp of the World Bank. In the first phase, the GMC will build infrastructure including an international airport, and a regional railway linking Gelephu to Assam with a six-lane highway. Bhutan is one of few carbon negative countries in the world, and officials assure that 60% of the GMC area will retain its forest cover with two protected areas, a national park and a wildlife sanctuary. The Danish architecture firm Bjarke Ingels Group (BIG) has been hired to come up with a sustainable urban plan.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022812020_f9e04d55bb349a64031f8133b0ad0f38dbe608f00070cb8d62dd2cab22bf1bb3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_30" data-image-id="2025022812020_f9e04d55bb349a64031f8133b0ad0f38dbe608f00070cb8d62dd2cab22bf1bb3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="590" loading="lazy" alt="Small Bhutan dreams big NT"> </figure>  GMC is also Bhutan’s response to the increasing outmigration of its young people, primarily to Australia — a problem similar to what Nepal faces.&nbsp; Youth unemployment in Bhutan in 2022 was 28.6%, and in 2023, 1.5% of the country’s 800,000 people moved just to Australia to work and study. Bhutan has a total fertility rate of 1.4, which is much below replacement level. These demographic trends have raised questions about Bhutan’s Gross National Happiness (GNH) approach to development. It has been hailed as a new age concept by some and ridiculed by others, especially because the regime has never answered for the eviction of one-sixth of its population in the 1990s (box).&nbsp; In that sense, the GMC could be Bhutan’s way of turning the page on GNH. Officials here said privately that Gross National Happiness has been largely misunderstood to be an idealistic dream, but it does not mean de-emphasising economic growth or GDP per capita. In the first 20 years, the Gelephu Special Administrative Region will be a ‘mindfulness city’ under complete autonomy with a legislative, judicial and governance system independent from the rest of Bhutan. After that will be the ‘convergence phase’, when the rest of Bhutan will have caught up with Gelephu in terms of development and socio-economic status. Gelephu was chosen for the mega-project because of the narrow strip of plains in a mostly mountainous country. This will make it easier to build infrastructure, especially the proposed new international airport which will be an alternative to Paro in which only specially trained pilots are allowed to land because of difficult terrain and weather.&nbsp; “GMC represents a new era for growth and opportunity for Bhutan, a bold experiment in &nbsp;governance, sustainability and economic transformation, all the while preserving Bhutanese identity, cultural and spiritual heritage,” explained GMC’s Rabsel Dorji. “We have the unprecedented opportunity to build a Special Administrative Region from the ground up, and for Bhutanese this is a nation-building experience.” Officials say that GMC needed to be a Special Administrative Region in order to speed things up, including decision-making so there would be no <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/bureaucratic-hurdles-in-researching-nepals-bureaucracy">bureaucratic hurdles</a> to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/from-the-nepali-press/why-there-is-no-foreign-investment-in-nepal">foreign investments</a>.&nbsp; But will such a separate ‘state’ not create a gap between haves and have nots, much like other parts of the world which have set up Special Economic Zones? Officials here are convinced that since GMC is the brainchild of King Jigme himself, it will succeed without compromising Bhutan's culture. Bhutan lies in the emerging economic corridor between South Asia and Southeast Asia, which has close to half of the world’s population. The idea is that with better connectivity, GMC will be strategically located to attract investors, residents and retirees.&nbsp; Planners here hope this will also replenish Bhutan’s shrinking population and allow just GMC to accommodate up to 2 million people — more than double Bhutan’s current population. Bhutan has the third highest GDP per capita in South Asia after the Maldives and Sri Lanka because of income from hydropower and tourism. It now wants to build on this for future growth with <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/putting-nepal-on-the-right-track?fbclid=IwAR2NwzuRGlfxnbjoMcTWRTlRMwXlRuTRA45k-lpnXQoZ1lxl5mBrow9YU08">clean energy and connectivity</a>. &nbsp; Added Rabsel Dorji: “The quality of life in Bhutan is very good but one could say <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/not-rising-nepal">the standard of living</a> could improve. With the GMC, we are trying to mix the two such that people have <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-qatar-job-mirage">high-paying jobs</a> while retaining the Bhutanese way of life.” &nbsp; <h2>The Gelephu connection</h2>  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025022812020_df5f1c680b18261d89a005da0e4eaca4877909738ae691285e745b562558116e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_36" data-image-id="2025022812020_df5f1c680b18261d89a005da0e4eaca4877909738ae691285e745b562558116e" data-rendition-name="original" width="946" height="599" loading="lazy" alt="Small Bhutan dreams big NT"> <figcaption>Bhutan Refugee Camp in Beldangi-2 in Jhapa district, Nepal.</figcaption> </figure>  Situated along Bhutan’s southern border with India at a point where the mountains meet the Brahmaputra plains, Gelephu was home to some 40% of the country’s 100,000 Nepali-speaking Lhotsampa people. Many of their family members were forcefully evicted from Bhutan over 30 years ago. Rights activists have opposed the GMC project, especially since many of the refugees still have land titles for property they left behind in Gelephu. People from Nepal were first invited by the Bhutan government to populate the lowlands in the south from the mid-19th century onwards. Over time, Nepali-speaking people accounted for one-sixth of the population of Bhutan, and were relatively better off because of their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/kathmandu-wards-off-evil-spirits">agrarian lifestyle</a> in the fertile southern plains.&nbsp; ‘However, their growing numbers and the formation of a political party were perceived as a threat to the cultural and political order of Bhutan,’ notes Human Rights Watch in an explainer.&nbsp; The Lhotsampa ('people from the south') were driven across India and dumped in Jhapa and Morang from 1990-92. They lived in refugee camps until they were resettled in the United States, Australia, New Zealand and some European countries between 2007-2016.&nbsp; Now, 6,577 refugees, most of them elderly who want to go back to Bhutan, remain in the camps even after UNHCR and WFP withdrew support in 2016. Back in Gelephu, there is still a township of 15,000 people. One of the families there is that of a Bhutanese sociologist. In a carefully worded reply, he told us in Thimphu: “All of my childhood memories will soon be gone, but perhaps it is for the greater good.”&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/mindfulness-about-bhutan-s-refugees">Mindfulness about Bhutan’s refugees</a>, Archana Darji&nbsp;

Small Bhutan Dreams Big

In June 2020, <a href="https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/border-row-dont-read-too-much-into-chinas-statements/articleshow/76056332.cms">incursions</a> by Chinese Army into the fraught borderlands of India’s Ladakh region triggered <a href="https://www.reuters.com/world/asia-pacific/what-was-india-china-military-clash-2020-about-2024-10-25/">bloody clashes</a> that killed 20 Indian soldiers, plunged bilateral relations to their lowest point in decades, and led to a prolonged military standoff. 
In November, China and India have reached a <a href="https://www.scmp.com/opinion/asia-opinion/article/3284373/how-china-and-india-can-build-border-truce-normalise-ties">truce</a>, though many in India would prefer to hold their applause. Since the 2020 violence, bilateral relations have remained frozen, and India wants China to take steps to restore the status quo ante at the border. China’s unprovoked encroachments across the Line of Actual Control (LAC) in eastern Ladakh are to blame for disturbing the peace in the first place.
To show it meant business, India <a href="https://www.bloomberg.com/opinion/articles/2024-10-23/china-and-india-bury-the-hatchet-for-now">slowed down</a> approvals of Chinese investments; tightened visa approvals for Chinese nationals, and canceled direct flights between the two countries. India toughened its stance on Chinese territorial claims in the Pacific, and made pointed political gestures that were bound to displease China, like <a href="https://m.economictimes.com/news/india/china-lodges-protest-with-india-over-pm-modis-response-to-taiwan-president-lais-greetings-on-his-poll-victory/articleshow/110765182.cms">responding</a> warmly to the Taiwanese president’s congratulatory message after Modi’s re-election. (There was also talk of Taiwan allowing Indian workers.)
While the recent truce suggests that China has finally gotten the message, it is difficult to shake the impression that India was the more anxious of the two parties to reach an agreement. In fact, India’s economic establishment appears largely convinced that, far from pursuing a strategy of decoupling, or at least ‘de-risking’, vis-à-vis China, India should be using Chinese capital to fill its own investment gaps.
Given that bilateral trade has <a href="https://www.ptinews.com/story/business/China-largest-trading-partner-of-India-in-FY24-with-USD-118-4-bn%3B-US-second-with-USD-118-3-bn/1497275">reached</a> its highest-ever levels despite the political tensions, it comes as no surprise that India’s business community has reportedly been <a href="https://www.bloomberg.com/news/newsletters/2024-10-24/how-india-ceos-convinced-modi-to-push-for-better-china-ties-at-brics">pressing</a> the government to conclude an agreement that would facilitate economic engagement. In July, the government’s chief economic adviser <a href="https://www.reuters.com/world/india/india-not-rethinking-issue-allowing-chinese-investment-trade-minister-says-2024-07-30/">openly advocated</a> a strategy that would increase Chinese investments in India and deepen Indian integration into Chinese supply chains.
There were indications over the last few months that an agreement to end the Ladakh standoff was forthcoming. And a deal did soon emerge, allowing both China and India to resume patrols along the frontier.
But significant areas of concern remain. As the political commentator Brahma Chellaney observed, when Narendra Modi and Xi Jinping met at the BRICS Summit in Kazan after the truce was announced, their respective ministries produced very different statements. Whereas India described the accord as a step toward a ‘multipolar Asia and a multipolar world’, China referred only to a ‘multipolar world’. The implication was subtle but clear: Asia belongs to China.
More broadly, China’s actions along the LAC have signaled a clear desire to keep India off balance by taking steps to shift the border in ways more favourable to its own interests. This mirrors China’s assertive approach to advancing its territorial ambitions elsewhere along its shared border with India, and in the South China Sea.
It is worth remembering how the last standoff between India and China, focused on the Doklam plateau in Bhutan, ended. India does not claim Doklam, but it does support Bhutan’s claim, which China disputes. Moreover, a major Indian highway runs below the plateau, connecting India’s northeastern states to the rest of the country. So, when China deployed troops to build a Chinese highway in Doklam, India sent troops to stop the project.
In that case, the two sides took just a few months to reach an agreement, which looked much like the recent Ladakh deal. Since then, however, the Chinese outflanked India by building a road elsewhere on the Doklam plateau to achieve the same result. The PLA now overlooks a vital Indian highway.
China’s conduct follows a clear pattern: create new facts on the ground, deploy forces to positions from which they can intimidate (and, potentially, attack) India, and wear India down with protracted diplomacy. In the meantime, encourage India to increase its dependence on Chinese imports and dangle the investment carrot before Indian business leaders.
Yet the promised economic benefits of the two sides’ recent rapprochement are unlikely to materialise. The Chinese have not lifted a finger to address India’s huge bilateral trade deficit which soared to $101 billion in 2022, from $70 billion in 2021 – or to lower the barriers Indian companies face when trying to access the Chinese market.
Moreover, all indications point to Chinese investment in low-value-added industries, rather than sectors involving technology transfer, even as Chinese companies pursue acquisitions in sensitive sectors in India. There are also massive opportunity costs: greater economic integration with China would surely make India less attractive to global companies seeking to reduce their exposure to the People’s Republic.
Add to that China’s long track record of exporting its way out of economic trouble and weaponising other countries’ economic vulnerabilities, and it seems clear that India should proceed with caution. Until China credibly demonstrates its good intentions, the truce in Ladakh warrants little celebration. © <a href="http://www.project-syndicate.org">Project Syndicate</a>

CHINDIA

A man who served 30 years in a <a href="https://www.hrw.org/asia/bhutan" target="_blank">Bhutanese</a> prison for distributing political pamphlets has said that political detainees like him are surviving on meagre rations and are reduced to using rice sacks for clothing and bedding. Human Rights Watch called on the Bhutan government to immediately free its remaining <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/03/13/bhutan-free-long-term-political-prisoners" target="_blank">political prisoners</a>, who it said are kept in appalling conditions and serving lengthy sentences following unfair trials and torture. Ram Bahadur Rai, 66, spoke with Human Rights Watch after he was released and deported after completing his sentence on 5 July. At least 34 other political <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/no-country-for-dissent" target="_blank">prisoners are still in Bhutan’s prisons</a> and most of them are Nepali-speaking citizens from ethnic groups of which <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/gross-national-reconciliation-in-bhutan" target="_blank">100,000 were expelled</a> in the 1990s and lived in refugee camps in Nepal. The tiny Himalayan kingdom has been a multi-party democracy since 2008, but it continues to hold prisoners accused of being opponents of the former autocratic system. “Bhutan’s government cultivates an enlightened international image by propounding the theory of <a href="https://www.qeh.ox.ac.uk/news/bhutan-gross-national-happiness-index-shows-increase-2015-despite-pandemic" target="_blank">gross national happiness</a>, but the blatantly abusive treatment of these prisoners tells a different story,” said <a href="https://www.hrw.org/about/people/meenakshi-ganguly" target="_blank">Meenakshi Ganguly</a>, deputy Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “While the Bhutanese government attempts to strengthen its ties with international partners, foreign governments and multilateral organisations should push for the release of political prisoners.” In 2023, <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/03/13/bhutan-free-long-term-political-prisoners" target="_blank">Human Rights Watch documented</a> 37 inmates <a href="https://www.nab.gov.bt/assets/uploads/docs/acts/2014/Prison_Act_of_Bhutan,_2009eng3rd.pdf" target="_blank">classified by Bhutan’s government</a> as political prisoners, who were first detained between 1990 and 2008. Following the <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/09/13/bhutan-freed-political-prisoner-describes-dire-conditions-0" target="_blank">release</a> of three people in the past year, at least 34 remain, many imprisoned for life without parole. Under Bhutan’s law, only King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck can commute a life sentence.&nbsp; Ram Bahadur Rai was among the 100,000 Nepali-speaking Bhutan people who were <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2003/05/03/we-dont-want-be-refugees-again" target="_blank">forced to flee the country</a> in 1991 after violence and persecution under the government at that time. He sneaked back into Bhutan in 1994 and was caught distrubuting pamphelts of the banned Bhutan People’s Party in the border town of Gelephu . He said he was accused to taking part in political violence, but had no defence lawyer during his trial. He was so severely tortured that he was hospitalised, only to be returned to jail and further tortured. By the time he was convicted and sentenced to 31 years and 10 months in prison, he said the torture had left him unable to write his own application for an appeal. The appeal was rejected, and he was warned that if he appealed again his sentence could be increased.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20240713060756_328136fb3903d1d0c9fcc4bfe04b74d4a9a7004a8dc9d28bb89effa9767f0b30.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20240713060756_328136fb3903d1d0c9fcc4bfe04b74d4a9a7004a8dc9d28bb89effa9767f0b30" data-rendition-name="original" width="946" height="1871" loading="lazy" alt="Bhutanese prisoners"> <figcaption>Ram Bahadur Rai</figcaption> </figure>  Rai said that since 2012, when the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) stopped arranging family contact for national security prisoners in Bhutan, he had had no communication with his family. Upon his release, he sent a photograph to his four children “so they can know what their father looks like”. In Chemgang prison, near the capital, Thimphu, Rai was held in a block with 24 other ‘anti-national’ prisoners. “It’s a very painful situation. The facilities have almost halved since the Red Cross left ,” Rai said. Prisoners are obliged to buy their own medication if they fall sick and can wait up to eight months if they need to see a doctor, and frequently receive no treatment. Several are in very poor health, Rai said. Food rations have been reduced to half, prisoners get a poor quality blanket only every three years and a mattress every 18 months. Rai said the clothes they are provided are too small so prisoners wear rice sacks for clotheing and bedding.&nbsp; Rai said that the Bhutan Red Cross Society, which is supposed to have taken over the duties of the ICRC in supporting prisoners’ welfare, don’t do anything. Bhutan’s legal system is formally based on concepts in the Buddhist tradition such as compassion. The king, who is head of state while most government functions are the responsibility of an elected government, retains the power to grant ‘kidu’, or relief, including by commuting sentences. Said Ganguly. “<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/bhutan-king-must-free-political-prisoners" target="_blank">King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck</a> could end the unjust suffering of these prisoners and their families with a stroke of a pen, as both <a href="http://www.bhutannewsnetwork.com/2022/04/six-political-prisoners-released/" target="_blank">he</a> and <a href="https://www.ucanews.com/story-archive/?post_name=/1999/12/28/king-pardons-bhutan-prodemocracy-leader-after-10-years-in-prison&amp;post_id=15081" target="_blank">his father</a> have previously done in other cases. Sixteen years since Bhutan’s transition to democracy, all of the remaining political prisoners should finally be released.”

Prisoners of conscience languish in Bhutan jails

A recently released political prisoner from <a href="https://www.hrw.org/asia/bhutan" target="_blank">Bhutan</a> has revealed ghastly conditions that political imprisoners in Bhutan are subjected to including food shortages and inadequate medical care, urging foreign countries to press for the immediate release of those held in violation of their human rights.
Madhukar Monger was released in August 2023 after serving 29 years. At least 36 others including a woman are in Bhutan jails, convicted of political offenses following unfair trials that frequently relied on confessions coerced under torture. 
 
“Bhutan’s government has sought to cultivate its global image by espousing ‘gross national happiness,’ but its treatment of political prisoners tells a different story,” says <a href="https://www.hrw.org/about/people/meenakshi-ganguly" target="_blank">Meenakshi Ganguly</a>, deputy Asia director at Human Rights Watch. “King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck should exercise compassion and his sole authority to grant amnesty to these unjustly held prisoners and release them.” 
 
Most of Bhutan’s political prisoners belong to the country’s marginalised Nepali-speaking community known as Lhotshampa and were convicted because of prohibited political activity between 1990 and 2008.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/bhutan-king-must-free-political-prisoners">Bhutan king must free political prisoners</a>, Nepali Times
Some 90,000 of them were forced to leave the country as refugees. A majority of them ended up in refugee camps across eastern Nepal before they were eventually resettled in eight different countries with the United States taking a bulk of them.
Monger, now 57, fled Bhutan with his family in 1990 but returned to campaign on behalf of the banned Bhutan People’s Party. He was arrested and tortured by the army in February 1994. And at 26, he was sentenced to 31 years for “anti-government activities,” following a trial in which he had no defense lawyer. He was released a year early after paying a fine of $250.
Monger was held in a section of Chemgang prison near Thimpu, known as the “anti” block, short for “anti-national.” He said the authorities refer to the political prisoners as “rajbandi” and the guards address them as “traitors.”
<a href="https://www.nab.gov.bt/assets/uploads/docs/acts/2014/Prison_Act_of_Bhutan,_2009eng3rd.pdf" target="_blank">Bhutanese law</a> defines a “political prisoner” as “any person convicted for conspiring, attempting, soliciting, abetting or committing offenses against the Tsa-Wa-Sum (king, country, and people).”&nbsp;
Many are serving life sentences without parole, and they are all denied contact with their families or the outside world, in violation of international standards. Bhutanese authorities have long denied the existence of these prisoners.
Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/political-prisoners-languish-in-bhutan-s-jails">Political prisoners languish in Bhutan’s jails</a>, Devendra Bhattarai
Monger describes the conditions for political prisoners as having declined drastically in recent years. He told Human Rights Watch that the authorities cut the monthly rice ration from 20kgs to 12, wheat flour from 6kgs to 1.5 and lentils from 3kgs to 2.
Prisoners do receive a small weekly allowance of fresh meat and vegetables but they were compelled to sell a portion to police and guards in order to buy medicine and clothes which the authorities did not provide.&nbsp;
Monger further adds that at the time of his release, at least four prisoners in the “anti” block had serious health problems, including one who received back surgery twice for a condition that the prisoners believe resulted from torture, and three who are regularly hospitalised for chronic conditions.
The neglect has gotten worse since the Covid-19 pandemic, Monger says. Prisoners have not received new bedding or clothing since the coronavirus outbreak, and Chemgang is cold much of the year. Families do not get to visit then. Phone calls and letters too are prohibited.&nbsp;
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/gross-national-reconciliation-in-bhutan">Gross National Reconciliation in Bhutan</a>, Suraj Budathoki
Following a Human Rights Watch <a href="https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/03/13/bhutan-free-long-term-political-prisoners" target="_blank">report</a> in March identifying 37 political prisoners, most of them held at Chemgang but also at other prisons, government officials assured prisoners regularly that they would be “released soon,” according to Monger. However, none aside from Monger is known to have been released. 
 
Under <a href="https://www.judiciary.gov.bt/storage/files/1/Sentencing%20Guideline%20for%20the%20Judiciary%20of%20Bhutan%202022.pdf" target="_blank">Bhutanese law</a>, a person serving a life sentence can only be released if the king grants an amnesty. In 2022, King Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck <a href="http://www.bhutannewsnetwork.com/2022/04/six-political-prisoners-released/" target="_blank">granted amnesty </a>to one political prisoner serving a life term. In contrast, his father King Jigme Singye Wangchuck in 1999 <a href="https://www.ucanews.com/story-archive/?post_name=/1999/12/28/king-pardons-bhutan-prodemocracy-leader-after-10-years-in-prison&amp;post_id=15081" target="_blank">granted amnesty</a> to 40 political prisoners, including some serving <a href="https://www.amnesty.org/en/documents/asa14/002/1994/en/" target="_blank">life sentences</a>. 
 
Monger is currently in a refugee camp in Nepal while his family has moved to the United States under a resettlement program for Bhutanese refugees. Governments of Nepal and the United States with the assistance of the United Nations Refugee Agency must assist him to rejoin his family. 
 
“At least 36 people remain in prison for their alleged political activities seeking democratic choice, which Bhutan’s multiparty constitution has recognised since 2008,” says Meenakshi Ganguly. “The Bhutanese authorities should release these prisoners now and reunite them with their families.”
Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/real-refugees-want-to-go-back-to-bhutan">Real refugees want to go back to Bhutan</a>, Sujata Dhungana

No country for dissent

As one of the last countries in the world to introduce television in 1998, and internet a year later, Bhutan has a whole new generation of young adults who have grown up with access to movies, football matches, and Facebook. The Buddhist-majority country holds its culture and traditions dear, and parents expect to pass these values down to their children who are having difficulty adjusting to the two worlds. The Next Guardian (2017) is a new documentary that explores this contrast between traditionalist values and modernist changes in Bhutan and questions the ideals of the country’s Gross National Happiness slogan. Directed by Arun Bhattarai and Dorottya Zurbó, the feature-length documentary follows a teen brother and sister, Gyembo and Tashi, who love soccer and their phones. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/in-nepal-east-meets-west-musically">In Nepal, East meets West musically</a>, Shrijan Pandey  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061113068_f36c45447643ca3e6bf111ef35f2f40b131ec34b3649566c774f1ae9d64698e7.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023061113068_f36c45447643ca3e6bf111ef35f2f40b131ec34b3649566c774f1ae9d64698e7" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="803" loading="lazy" alt="The Next Guardian NT 2"> </figure>  Their father runs a monastery and believes that their culture must be passed on to future generations to preserve it. Gyembo is studying in a modern English school, loves football, and has crushes on some girls in his class. But he is suddenly expected to become a monk. Bhattarai came up with this true story when he heard about Bhutan’s first female football camp. He spent six months in the camp and finally came across Tashi who looked and acted like a boy and wanted to become a football player. However, after meeting her family and Gyembo, he changed his focus to show the widening generational gap in Bhutan by documenting one family’s story. “We saw it as an opportunity to reflect on how Bhutan is changing,” Bhattarai told an online audience during an online screening of his documentary by Screen Southasia organised by Himal Southasian, which also holds the biannual Film Southasia documentary festival. “Screen Southasia was born out of our love for South Asian documentaries and Film Southasia’s massive archive of documentaries and network of alumni,” says Alok Adhikari, Assistant Director of Film Southasia. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/pasang-lhamu-sherpa-the-film">Pasang Lhamu Sherpa, the film</a>, Tayama Rai  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061113068_fb42d3dac6947db26be86256f41b27af537a886692cafd2e5ed54636de071111.png" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2023061113068_fb42d3dac6947db26be86256f41b27af537a886692cafd2e5ed54636de071111" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="856" loading="lazy" alt="The Next Guardian NT 3"> </figure>  Screen Southasia hosts monthly online shows of compelling documentaries from the region, including Nepal, India, Pakistan, Afghanistan, Bhutan, Burma, Bangladesh, Maldives and Sri Lanka -- a diverse range of films, both classic and new, that showcase the unique cultures, histories and perspectives of the Subcontinent. Screenings are followed by Q&amp;A sessions &nbsp;with the filmmaker, editor, camera person to better understand the craft of filmmaking, funding and marketing aspects.&nbsp; June’s selected The Next Guardian effectively captures the transition of Bhutan to the digital age as Gyembo, Tashi, and their friends use smartphones, watch football tutorials, take photos, and talk to friends on Facebook. It also portrays how Gyembo is not different from young people anywhere else in the world today. In contrast, their father prepares local dishes, does everyday rituals, performs traditional dances, and is passionate about Buddhist teachings. With its rich cinematography, the film uses static wide shots to portray the scenic beauty of Bhutan and to showcase the rhythm of everyday rural life in the country. Key to Bhattarai’s filming style is not to use a lot of movement to capture the real, authentic rituals of the family with cinéma vérité technique. The cinematography is unobtrusive, and the characters ignore the film-makers and go about without being at all self-conscious. The blurs the dimension between film and reality. Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/on-screen-mountains">On-screen mountains</a>, Sahina Shrestha  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023061113068_0bdb4decbe10c16488b4afe993680dba4313ed7d4f3c509713ed2178cde00c1d.png" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2023061113068_0bdb4decbe10c16488b4afe993680dba4313ed7d4f3c509713ed2178cde00c1d" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="850" loading="lazy" alt="The Next Guardian NT 4"> </figure>  “Sometimes, I waited for hours observing their day-to-day interactions. Some clips were possible only after the protagonists opened up as themselves, forgetting the camera,” Bhattarai explains. The film delves into the traditional South Asian dynamic where a child cannot say no to parents and is expected to carry out their wishes. The father constantly tries to convince Gyembo of the advantages of becoming a monk and the importance of preserving heritage. Gyembo has different dreams, celibacy not being one of them, yet he never actively protests. “Since I grew up near Bhutan, I wanted to tell this story,” says Bhattarai. Tashi has her own arc in the story, dressing up and cutting her hair like a boy, and she is mostly drawn to masculine behaviour. She is passionate about being a football player, and the film shows a wonderful acceptance of Tashi’s gender expression by her family and society at large. Her father, in line with his strong Buddhist beliefs, sees Tashi as a girl born with the spirit of a boy from her past life and calls it natural. And after seeing movie, Gyempo’s father postponed sending him to the monastery. The Next Guardian was the first documentary film many people in Bhutan watched in a cinema for the first time. It won the Best Documentary at the Zsigmond Vilmos Film Festival in 2018, and was nominated for the Golden Gate Award at the San Francisco International Film Festival. Films like The Next Guardian highlight dynamic cultures and their unique ways of relating to the world. However, financing is difficult, and filmmakers often have to rely on producers from the West.&nbsp; Says Arun Bhattarai: “What this means is that rather than producing a relatable film for the local audience, sometimes you have to make it relatable to a Western audience.” Read also: <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/review/at-the-edge-of-tomorrow">At the edge of tomorrow</a>, Mark Turin The next Screen Southasia event will be a film from Bangladesh.

In the land of Gross National Happiness

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131148/6372392d9c7e80680e0c73c7jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1500" height="1000"/><figcaption>Former Bhutanese refugee Tara Dahal chairs Nepali language and Arts Centre in Cincinnati, which teaches Nepali to families from Bhutan and Nepal, facilitates citizenship applications, voter registration, and helps those with language difficulties.</figcaption></figure>On 1 August 2022, Tara Dahal’s inbox pinged with an email. It would have been like any other morning had the senders not been the US Center for Disease Control (CDC) and the Association of Immunisation Managers (AIM).The emails named him among 28 community <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/bhutan-refugee-to-coronavirus-care-giver/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">health workers across the US</a> to receive the country's 2022 Immunisation Champion Award.Each year, an individual from every US state is honoured with the award. Dahal, who works at Healthy Home Care was awarded for spreading awareness and actively contributing to the vaccination campaign during the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/himalayan-new-yorkers-tell-stories-of-covid-19/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Covid-19 pandemic</a>. He was also delivering essential materials to individuals and families in isolation at a time when anti-vax disinformation was at its peak.“The news brought me immense joy," the says the 48-year-old, who was among the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">100,000 Nepali speaking people</a> that Bhutan evicted in the early 1990s, and whose family spent 20 years in a refugee camp in Nepal before <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/who-stands-with-bhutanese-refugees-in-nepal/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">coming to the United States in 2012</a>.Dahal has lived in Cincinnati for eight years, and chairs the city’s Nepali language and Arts Centre, which teaches Nepali to families from Bhutan and Nepal, facilitates citizenship applications, voter registration, and helps those with language difficulties. The Centre has even built a cricket ground for the Nepali community in coordination with the township.Dahal was born in Dorokha Gewog in Bhutan’s Samtse district. Around 1990, as anti-government protests heated up in Bhutan, Dahal was in 8th grade, living in a hostel of two days walk away from home at Samtse High School.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131148/637239309c7e80680e0c73c8jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="827"><figcaption>Recipients of US Immunisation Champion Award 2022.</figcaption></figure>News of the protests, reports of <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/bhutans-refugees-between-hope-and-despair/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">repression and of resistance</a>, reached the school and the students were fearful of being targetted. Dahal had to flee to India from his hostel early one morning, on the pretext that his older brother was ill.“I left clad in shorts, a t-shirt and my bakkhu," recalls Dahal, who crossed the Suketi River into India trying to hide from sentries along the way. He stayed for a few months at a refugee camp in Garganda in West Bengal along with prominent dissidents from Bhutan.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131148/637239339c7e80680e0c73c9jpeg.jpg" alt="" width="862" height="594"><figcaption>Tara Dahal with mother Laxmi Dorokha Gewog in southern Bhutan before they fled their homeland.</figcaption></figure>Back home, Dahal’s escape from his hostel had increased the pressure on his family. His father was forced to do labour without pay for several months by the police. His mother, who had learnt where he was, came looking for him in India one day, having told the authorities that she was going to the market.Mother and son later joined other <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/ex-refugee-takes-refuge-in-music/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">refugees from Bhutan</a> who were being transported across India to be dumped in Nepal. Back in Dorakha, Dahal's friends and neighbours were also leaving the country as the repression intensified.The rest of his family received orders of deportation if they could not present Dahal, so they too, left home, with no idea of what the future held.“Just like that, our middle-income family was stateless, and we plunged into poverty,” Dahal recalls.At the refugee camp in Nepal, Dahal passed his high school exam, started teaching other refugee children at the camp school. The bamboo huts in the camp were crowded, there was no clean drinking water and garbage piles were as high as the huts themselves. The summers were sweltering and in monsoon, the rains drenched everyone. Disease stalked the refugees, and many died.“We barely survived,” Dahal says matter-of-factly. “It was what it was.”Dahal wanted on to pursue further studies, but he had no money. So he left the camp to go to Sunsari distirct in Nepal, where he taught for a few more years. In 1997, he saved enough money to come to Kathmandu and enrolled at the Pashupati Campus while continuing to teach. His family, still at the refugee camp, relied on the money he sent back for everyday expenses and to put his siblings through school.<img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131148/637239369c7e80680e0c73cajpeg.jpg" alt="" width="640" height="636">Dahal eventually got married in Kathmandu, and in 2007 had a son. By that time, the refugee resettlement program had begun at camps in Jhapa and Morang. So Dahal returned to the camp with his family and began working as an Assistant Program Manager at the Refugee Women's Forum.The camp began to empty slowly, as refugee families who had spent two decades started leaving for third countries with children born in the camp. The turn for Dahal's family came in May 2011. They were resettled in Colorado, where he worked in a hotel for two years. In 2014, he moved to Cincinnatim, becoming a US citizen three years later.“A roof that didn’t leak, enough food not to go hungry, and a good education for my children,” Dahal says simply, voice thick with emotion when asked what dreams he had when the family <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/home-away-from-home-for-bhutan-refugees/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">flew to America</a>.Grander dreams had withered away somewhere along the journey from that hostel in Bhutan to Ohio. “It gets hard to breathe when I remember what I had to go through while I tried to make a life as a refugee," he says.“Whenever I felt my thoughts hurtling towards the dark, I told myself that even if all else was lost, the future was still in front of m,” Dahal says. “I just hung on to that tenuous thread of hope and pushed ahead.”Now, thousands of miles away from his home in <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/gross-national-reconciliation-in-bhutan/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">Bhutan</a>, Dahal remembers the unmade bed he left back in his dormitory, the books on his desk, his clothes hanging form a hook on the wall — a life suddenly cut off. He remembers his friends and relatives who were also forced to leave their homes abruptly in Dorokha, and the bustling Samtse market.His voice takes on a childlike cadence as he speaks of his family’s beloved cow Jhilku, born at the same time as his sister. When his family left home, they set all their livestock free but had left Jhilku in the care of a relative. Jhilku is long gone now, but Dahal has not forgotten her, paying tribute to her during yearly memorials to his late father.“I may be here physically, but I left my heart with the people and my home back in Bhutan,” Dahal says. “You can take a boy away from his home, but never his home away from the boy.”

Far from home

<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/637233999c7e80680e0c48edjpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1200" height="1007"/><figcaption>Members of Peace Initiative Bhutan at the West Wing in Washington DC last month. All photos: PEACEINITIATIVEBHUTAN.</figcaption></figure>Bhutan’s much-touted happiness rating rests atop a bed of pain of more than 100,000 refugees evicted from their country. I know, because I am one of them.I come from a working class family that lived in Bhutan for generations, with no interest or involvement in politics. My community, known in Bhutan as Lhotshampa, traditionally lived in the south of the Himalayan country.In 1989, Bhutan conducted a national census and <a href="https://www.hrw.org/reports/2007/bhutan0507/3.htm">revoked our citizenship</a> after retroactively implementing the country’s 1985 Nationality Law. The policy of ‘national integration’ and ‘revocation of citizenship’ catalysed our community’s <a href="https://eur-lex.europa.eu/legal-content/EN-SL/TXT/?from=EN&amp;uri=CELEX:51996IP0329">large-scale exodus</a>.One night, the coal mine office at the Bhutan-India border where my father worked as a clerk was attacked and ransacked. The next day, security personnel picked up my father and severely beat him.They questioned his patriotism and nationality and tried to get him to confess to the destruction and reveal who was behind it. My father, born to a simple farming family, had no clue. After this traumatic experience, he made the hard decision to leave the country.On March 3, 1990, we were among the <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/opinion/bhutans-refugees-between-hope-and-despair/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">people of Bhutan who fled the country</a> for safety. I was nine years old. We were sent to India, and from there taken in trucks to Timai, a refugee camp in eastern Nepal, where I grew up.The United States Refugee Resettlement Program helped me relocate to America in 2009. Two years later, my family joined me and we are now well settled. But together with all of us who were traumatised by statelessness, want to heal the pain of dislocation.Those who left Bhutan felt compelled by the threat to their lives, identity, culture, and language. In some cases, the state pushed them out through its crackdown on human rights and political activists, including some who were exiled and members of political parties accused of engaging in violence.<figure><img src="https://superdesk-pro-c.s3.amazonaws.com/sd-nepalitimes/20221114131124/6372339c9c7e80680e0c48eejpeg.jpg" alt="" width="1600" height="1200"><figcaption> </figcaption></figure>The violence has decreased over the years, but this does not mean that the threat is gone, nor that there is positive peace.  Many Lhotshampa citizens are still missing, others have been killed, and close to 50 political prisoners are serving life sentences in Bhutan’s prisons.The King recently <a href="http://www.bhutannewsnetwork.com/2022/04/six-political-prisoners-released/">released six political prisoners</a>, and commuted a life sentence.Till last year, <a href="https://www.state.gov/reports/2021-country-reports-on-human-rights-practices/bhutan/">approximately 6,300 Bhutanese refugees</a> were still languishing in two remaining refugee camps in Nepal. Many of the over 100,000 Bhutanese refugees resettled in eight western countries have not been able to return to the land of their birth with which they have an intense attachment.The Peace Initiative Bhutan started in 2020 by families who are divided between Bhutan and the countries they have been resettled in.Its goal is to end the polarisation and distrust between people back home in Bhutan and overseas. Peace Initiative Bhutan currently functions under the auspices of <a href="https://globalcitizenscircle.org/">Global Citizens Circle</a>, founded in 1974 in the USA which was formed during the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights Movement.Peace Initiative Bhutan is not interested in ‘defeating’ the government in Thimphu. We want a ‘win-win’ solution which we know will not be easy or quick. But it is possible through a sustained, holistic peace-building and reconciliation process, in which remorse, apology and forgiveness will play a critical role.The process, rooted in restorative rather than retributive justice, centres on fairness and justice which are prerequisites in addressing conflict. This was central to the Truth and Reconciliation Process in South Africa.The past years have seen a growing realisation among people in Bhutan and abroad about the futility of the conflict. The <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp/" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer">suffering of divided families</a> is underpinned by the urge to visit their birth country and meet loved ones.Western education has also led to a visible shift in the thinking amongst exiled families from Bhutan, even as new thinking is evident among politicians back home.This shift in perception and attitude makes it possible to find a pragmatic and peaceful resolution to the decades-old, seemingly intractable conflict. The disputing parties have a shared goal in making Bhutan genuinely happy and prosperous.Since the conflict, Bhutan has transitioned into a democracy with general elections every five years. It adopted its first Constitution in 2008 and established an independent judicial system. A silver lining to the conflict was also the formation of political parties who are now participating in the democratic process.According to two United Nations’ triennial reviews, 2015 and 2018, Bhutan has <a href="https://www.unescap.org/sites/default/d8files/knowledge-products/WP_20_04%20Bhutan%20Graduation_Potential%20implications%20and%20policy%20imparatives.pdf">met the criteria</a> to graduate in 2023 from the category of least developed countries (LDCs) and rise above the poverty index.Many overseas people from Bhutan are outstanding in the fields of academia, entrepreneurship and literature, yet consider themselves Bhutanese first.This provides a great opportunity for Bhutan to have an international profile on a scale greater than its physical area and 600,000 population.The diaspora wields considerable soft power to the home country, to garner international support and solidarity in Bhutan’s favour.I have spoken to many Bhutanese American business owners who want to contribute to Bhutan's economic development, its education sector, and in other fields, besides directly helping their own family members who are still in Bhutan.Many are eager for an opportunity to improve their relationship and reconcile differences with the country of birth.Bhutan is one of the few carbon-neutral countries in the world, and it has a ‘happiness' policy that is maturing, devoted to enhancing the wellbeing of its people.An opening to the Bhutanese in exile will also improve Bhutan’s ranking in the World Happiness Report, which it had a central role in establishing.Last month, 17 young Bhutanese American professionals representing Peace Initiative Bhutan and other non-profits  visited Washington D.C and called on Congress and the Biden administration to help foster peace and reconciliation in Bhutan.The delegates met with the Deputy Director South and Central Asian Affairs under the US Department of State and Director for South Asia Regional Affairs National Security Brian Luti at the White House and asked for their continued support and engagement with Bhutan.Finding common ground is crucial for conflicting parties to come to a meaningful dialogue. The common ground in this situation lies in the desire to fulfil the aspirations of genuine gross national happiness in Bhutan.Dealing with trauma means facing the fact that we have been harmed in some way. When we separate the action from the person who harmed us, we can help rehabilitate them and create new connections.We need to learn to hate the game, not the player. Or, hate the sin, not the sinner.  We are all against injustice, and there are many ways to seek justice. As Mahatma Gandhi said, "An eye for an eye makes the world go blind."Reconciliation needs collaboration. Community agencies, local organisations, religious leaders, politicians, the King of Bhutan, and businesses, all can play essential roles in this process.Combining realism with hope may help us move toward a more peaceful future. We at the Initiative believe it is time for representatives of the Bhutan Government and the Bhutanese diaspora to sit down to discuss the future, focusing on agreement and accommodation.Suraj Budathoki is founder-member of Peace Initiative Bhutan and a doctoral student in Transformative Social Change at Saybrook University, California. <a href="mailto:sbudathoki@pibhutan.org">sbudathoki@pibhutan.org</a>. This is a Sapan News syndicated piece <a href="http://www.southasiapeace.com/">www.southasiapeace.com</a>.

Gross National Reconciliation in Bhutan

Political prisoners languish in Bhutan’s jails

International Mountain Day on 11 December should inspire celebration, not cynicism. It follows &nbsp;a small but rare diplomatic win: the agreement at COP30 in Belém to hold a dedicated global dialogue on mountains in 2026, and to include mountain-specific indicators in the new climate adaptation framework.&nbsp;
A welcome shift, certainly. But the old narrative lingers — mountains are fragile, disaster-prone, eternally vulnerable. But the uncomfortable truth is that safe and environment-friendly development in the mountains is simply too expensive than anyone wants to admit.
To build a kilometre of two-lane highway in the Tarai costs Rs200 million. That same kilometre on a Himalayan slope with retaining walls, drainage, bioengineering, and landslide protection costs more than Rs1 billion. Add tunnels, viaducts or highways designed for minimum 80km/h speeds and that figure can easily triple.
This pattern repeats across all sectors. A 50MW run-of-river hydropower plant that costs $80 million in low-ling valleys costs four times more in the mountains. The headrace tunnels have to be longer, desanding basins must trap the silt, the access roads cost more than the entire project. And there is no way to prevent the scheme from being washed away by a glacial collapse flood.
Nepal's annual road budget is only Rs150 billion. It is scattered thinly across 753 municipalities, most of them perched on steep, unstable slopes. When resources are inadequate and political cycles are short, the incentives for corruption are predictable &nbsp;— shaving a mountain flank at 70 degrees instead of 45, taking a shortcut on drainage canals, skimping on asphalt thickness, or skipping the Gabion.
In high Nepal, the bulldozer is the engineer. We hang on the prayer that the monsoon will be merciful. July arrives, and reality returns. Mountains fall on roads, flash floods wash away swathes of expensive highways.
The entrance to the Siddhababa Tunnel in Palpa collapses yet again. The Nagdhunga Tunnel faces another landslide delay. The Melamchi headworks go under — again. Each failure costs more to repair than proper engineering would have cost when that infrastructure was built.
We are not just paying once. We the taxpayers are signing up for a subscription to disaster. The real fragility of Nepal’s mountains is of governance, not geology.
This is what the international climate conversation habitually misses. Mountain communities are repeatedly told to ‘respect nature’ and avoid linear infrastructure, often by the same countries proudly announcing new expressways and airports in their own countries.
Mountain people are not anti-development. They want what everyone else wants: electricity that does not flicker, roads that survive the monsoon, schools their children can reach in winter. What they lack is not aspiration, it is the budget required to build things safely that is not stolen by politicians and their crony contractors.
If the world truly wants to protect the Himalaya, Andes or Alps, and the billions who rely on them for water, the answer is not more romantic slogans about fragility of the mountains. It is concessional, patient financing that narrows the gap between cheap and dangerous versus expensive and resilient. And it is transparent government that spends that money wisely.
This means money for tunnels instead of unstable surface cuts. Money for bioengineered slopes instead of naked bulldozer scars. Money for hydropower built for 1-in-100-year floods, not 1-in-25-year budgets.&nbsp;
This is not charity. Mountain infrastructure safeguards global water, carbon, energy and biodiversity systems. It is a global public good, and should be financed as such.&nbsp;
In Syangja, small investments under the Climate Adaptive Equitable Water Management Practices have restored nine community ponds, protected recharge zones and increased dry-season spring flow by about a third. All of this for less than the cost of repairing a single kilometre of poorly built hillside road after the next landslide.
Our experience from the Subnational Governance Programme (SNGP) in some districts of mountains and plains show that when municipalities receive practical guidance backed by scientific research, they can scale these solutions with modest, targeted budgets. Local governments are not the problem — they are the missing link. &nbsp;
The tragedy is not technical incapacity; it is chronic under-financing of the most cost-intensive terrain on earth. Lets stop romanticising mountain poverty on 11 December, International Mountain Day. Let us retire the language of fragility that excuses inaction.
Mountains are not pleading for sympathy. They are demanding fairness: that the true cost of safe development in the world’s steepest geographies be acknowledged and shared. Until that bill is paid, the monsoon will continue to do the accounting, one landslide, one road, one abandoned promise at a time.
Ngamindra Dahal is a water and climate adaptation practitioner based at the Nepal Water Conservation Foundation, Kathmandu.

The Himalaya is not fragile

This is the 76th episode of Diaspora Diaries, a Nepali Times series in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working and studying abroad. We did not have a whole lot, but did not grow up in scarcity either. When I was in Grade 7, my father migrated to Malaysia but returned just after 18 days and was heavily in debt. It is the interest and not the principal from loan sharks that ruins borrowers. As we grew up, family expenses rose and my father migrated again to Qatar, determined to make it work this time. I used to watch him via IMO in buildings under construction eating rice out of plastic bags. There was no AC, no oven, no shade. Those images are etched into my memory.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251208081244_3f46ccdd1fab8f85ccce9fc8bec677cb7466a1b9556f36d0f92d19c6478369b6" data-rendition-name="original" width="600" height="800" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Family picture from 2014 sent to Anil's father who was working in Qatar.</figcaption> </figure>  After Grade 10, I was encouraged to take up computers in +2 as I was a bright student. I did not have access to a computer, and the 30 minutes we got weekly at the computer lab was just not enough. My parents could not afford to buy a computer, but a friend had both a desktop and laptop at home.&nbsp; I did his homework in exchange for using his computer. When my father in Qatar, found out he bought me a laptop. Today, a decade later, I am still using it. Maybe I valued the computer more because it was bought with my father’s sweat. The laptop reminds me of how he toiled overseas.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251208081240_2b3dc0b903d0b01caf875b5f50c22053aa28097b405cf14f36c6324a93f5dfef" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil still uses the laptop his father bought him ten years ago.</figcaption> </figure>  The money he sent home did help with household expenses. My mother did tailoring, although the income was not stable. After my father returned from Qatar, we he bought a three-wheeler which he still uses in Makwanpur. After completing Grade 12, I came to college in Kathmandu to study IT. It cost Rs20,000 a month in tuition, rent and food just to survive. I could not complete my bachelor’s. Although my father kept saying, “Don’t worry, I am here,” he just did not have the money to pay for me. So, I took up a data entry job which helped cover living expenses. The pandemic meant my father could not earn money from his auto-rickshaw. We had no savings and had outstanding loans. Migration was the only way to get us out of the rut. I told my father that both of us should go abroad to earn some money. He could return earlier and I would stay on.&nbsp; My father agreed, and I visited recruiting agencies with both our passports. After reviewing our CVs, they said it was easy to find jobs for my father but not for me, given my educational background and my experience in software. “How can we send you for jobs as a cleaner or security guard?” they asked. I finally found a job in Romania, and decided to have my father stay back because going to Europe would have doubled the cost. My mother and sister came to see me off at Kathmandu airport. It felt just like my father leaving for Qatar many years ago. Perhaps some day, my brother would also leave in a similar manner, I thought.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251208081240_c1a00b70223f048e994e1cab7c0e6cd6944c4a2f3f7740b0a8e76921da9d23f0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's sister hugging him at the airport before he left for Romania.</figcaption> </figure>  In Romania, I work in a factory making car seat belts. It is not physically demanding and it is indoors. Even though I did not share it with my family, the initial period was difficult as I had no experience standing and working for so many hours at a time. Once, when I was tired at work, I wondered how my father managed in Qatar in a much more physically taxing job. Here I was not carrying heavy loads, my work was not outdoors. I was so emotional, I wrote a ghazal in my head. The words “खाडीको तातो घाम” kept repeating in my head. After work, I jotted down the verse in my diary:&nbsp; बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot become like you कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot imagine how hard it is म मान्छे हेर्दा मात्रै ठूलो I only look like a grown man बानी अझै बच्चै छ But I am still childish किनकि जता त्यतै जान मन लाग्छ I feel like roaming around जे देख्यो त्यो खान मन लाग्छ Eat whatever I see. न पैसा बच्छ I cannot save. न खाएको कुरा सबै पच्छ The food doesn’t agree with me&nbsp; कहिले काहीँ त मलाई म्याकडोनाल्डको बर्गर पनि पच्दैन Not even a burger at McDonalds तर प्लास्टिकमा पोको परेको त्यो चिसो भात But how did my father eat that cold rice खाडीको त्यो तातो घाममा सेक्दै खाँदा मेरो बुवालाई कसरी पच्छ? Under the hot Gulf sun? मेरो पेटले यस्तो पचाउन सक्दै सक्दैन I would not be able to eat that. बुवा, तपाई जस्तो बन्न म सक्दै सक्दिनँ Father, I cannot be like you. कति गाह्रो छ, म भन्नै सक्दिनँ I cannot say how difficult it is.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251208081240_51eb68a130750f1c79ab1046406a5b940c780ebd87cfff5ff6861d3287bd69c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil Gole's diary entry of his ghazal compares his migration with his father’s journey.</figcaption> </figure>  I posted it online, and it went viral. But more importantly, people found the words relatable and engaging. My sister first saw it on Tiktok and shared it with my mother. It moved them to tears while my father kept watching it on repeat, deep in thought. Even though my birth father decided to leave my mother when I was less than a year old, my step father never made me feel the absence of anything. My friend from Grade 6 in Makwanpur, Sharan, introduced me to ghazal. He was six years older because he had to pause his studies during the Maoist conflict. He worked in a brick factory in Kathmandu, saved money, and returned to school. He was very talented and we became friends through the school children’s club.&nbsp; Sharan and I spent most of our time together, sharing meals to save money and even skipping classes. One day, in Grade 9 when our teacher was absent, he wrote a ghazal on the spot and explained the form, the rhyme, the meter. I listened half-heartedly as it was not of interest. We left it at that. Shortly after, Sharan was diagnosed with leukemia and he could not finish exam. Because he was a sharp student, the teachers decided to not hold him back. He died just before Grade 10. I cried. I do not have any pictures of Sharan. He had small ears, and I used to tease him that people with small ears do not live long. That still haunts me. <div class="embed-block"><div style="max-width: 56vh;"><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 177.7778%;"><iframe src="https://cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fyoutube.com%2Fshorts%2FLpizGQWTbMs%3Ffeature%3Dshare&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> At the school assembly at the start of the new year, we were asked to share a talent. I did not know what to do, but I wrote a ghazal just as Sharan had taught me and dedicated it to him. Halfway through, I started crying and the principal took me to his office and calmed me down.&nbsp; I do not write much poetry except a few posts on social media here and there. But a video of me reciting went viral on TikTok and that encouraged me to write more. That made me feel validated, and I began writing more about real life experiences. It has been three years in Romania. My brother will also be joining me soon. Things have improved for us financially, but we are not where we want to be. We will get there. When we do, I will resume my studies. I’m interested in programming, especially back-end development and working with databases. It is on hold right now.&nbsp; I do not have big dreams, I just want to make sure my parents get what they deserve. It is okay if I get delayed if my parents are able to access what they had scarified for us when they were of my age. For now, my family is my priority.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="20251208081240_9e8d3cad3b505d3ec5adcea94ed05b2ea9de1d2cd8507335eec86c2659a11b34" data-rendition-name="original" width="2016" height="1512" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 76"> <figcaption>Anil's family.</figcaption> </figure>

My father’s son

Singha Bahadur Lama worked for six years in Malaysia, but back home in Nepal he is now earning more than he ever did overseas. Here in his village 60km east of Kathmandu, Lama now harvests Buddhachitta seeds from sacred trees that grow in the mountains, and turns them into prayer bead necklaces revered in Tibetan Buddhism. The Buddhachitta tree (Ziziphus budhensis) is indigenous to Nepal and grows in the mountains of Kavre district, and demand boomed after the Dalai Lama proclaimed that the seeds found in Nepal were the best. People from Kavre had gone to Bodh Gaya 12 years ago and presented the Dalai Lama with Buddhachitta prayer beads. Not long after, while speaking in Taiwan the Dalai Lama told followers that the seeds from Nepal had special powers.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141220_dd1fddffc2f22652f57b0fdebe5d0612aa48c79c1e5c1a82da10b1d0a0af69b8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251209141220_dd1fddffc2f22652f57b0fdebe5d0612aa48c79c1e5c1a82da10b1d0a0af69b8" data-rendition-name="original" width="737" height="536" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> </figure>  Lama shows a visiting journalist different types of Buddhachitta seeds. Single-faced beads are the rarest and most valuable, as are the smallest 8mm beads. A prayer necklace made of 108 beads would easily cost Rs1.5 million (over $10,630). “We cannot say if our trees will give smaller beads or even how many faces or clear eyes, it’s all natural,” says Lama, who now works as a consultant, advising people all over Nepal about planting the tree, and has since spread it across the country. Four years ago, a Chinese middleman made 7mm plastic cups to cover the seeds, hoping the trees would produce smaller pods. It did not work, and the trees died. Such is the demand for high-quality Buddhachitta beads that a group of 20 men employed by a Chinese dealer cut down a tree along the Rosi River last year. The harvest from that tree had made $212,600 the year before. With that kind of price, the trees are in danger of being chopped down. &nbsp; Lama himself used to make Rs10 million ($70,880) from the seeds of each tree. With this money, he built new houses and sent his daughter to Japan, all with Buddhachitta income. But the market for the seeds is volatile.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141224_0fd29cdc36db0c3ad5f5add513b8b220d0101760e1c42d5c54266eac7c2dfe75.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251209141224_0fd29cdc36db0c3ad5f5add513b8b220d0101760e1c42d5c54266eac7c2dfe75" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> </figure>  Lama invested Rs10 million when prices were high ten years ago, but he lost most of that when the prices collapsed for bigger seeds.&nbsp; He adds: “That year the demand was only for small seeds, and it has only been three years since the prices have risen again for seeds that make no sound when you shake them.”&nbsp; HISTORY Legend has it that Guru Rinpoche left seeds of Buddhachitta while meditating in the Temal region of Kavre district in the 8th century as a blessing. He is known in the Himalaya as the ‘Second Buddha’ whose birth was foretold by the Buddha himself, and spread Buddhism in Tibet. Now, almost every household from the Tamang community here has on average 50 trees. The tree thrives on gravel and sandy soil, needs to be protected from excess water, and can grow up to 10 meters high. It starts bearing fruit annually from its third year and one tree lives for 90 years. The fruits are handpicked every June and July, and then have to be processed by boiling the seeds to remove their hard outer skin. The seeds are then dried in the sun for a few days.&nbsp; “Our families have been growing Buddhachitta for generations, but it started becoming hugely profitable only about 12 years ago, it has become a cash crop and has even replaced staples like maize,” says Dev Lama, 55.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141224_7820e90f918489045c0668465190df37120167cc7d4401bb128adf931e156bc3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20251209141224_7820e90f918489045c0668465190df37120167cc7d4401bb128adf931e156bc3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> <figcaption>Dev Lama</figcaption> </figure>  What helps is that Buddhachitta is not a high-maintenance crop, it just needs some weeding, watering, and protection from hailstorms and pesticides. Once it matures, it does not need much care, and farmers intercrop it with other grain.&nbsp; “You don’t have to work on it every year like maize, which needs to be planted year after year,” explains Shova Shrestha, 33. “We also continue to grow other vegetables and spices, all of which help to preserve soil nutrients.” Generally, farmers do not sell directly to Chinese traders but deal with local middlemen who take a cut before they take it to the Chinese traders who lodge in Kathmandu during the harvest season. But the bulk of the profit is made by Chinese wholesalers across the border. &nbsp; And now with the proliferation of the plant, and with nearly every family growing several trees, farmers sometimes struggle to find buyers and are often severely short-changed, as was the case with Maiya Tamang’s family.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251209141220_2d82949a8a32b272216e4f288e976c5af68abf65f52500947ba366526a9b2a2c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20251209141220_2d82949a8a32b272216e4f288e976c5af68abf65f52500947ba366526a9b2a2c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1500" height="1125" loading="lazy" alt="Buddhachitta NT"> <figcaption>Maiya Tamang</figcaption> </figure>  “I wasn’t home that day two years ago, but my sons later told me that my husband sold an entire tree for just Rs1,500,” recalls Tamang, 60. “We asked him why he sold it for a price that wouldn’t even buy a sack of rice, and he just shrugged.” Tamang did make a profit two years ago, but last year’s crop was destroyed by a hailstorm. Despite this, the bead business has augmented the income of a family dependent on subsistence agriculture. &nbsp; A neighbour, Sonam Tamang, had a few Buddhachitta trees in his backyard and has bought saplings from a nursery to expand. Saplings cost Rs500, but it is double that for plants that give high value seeds. Says Sonam Tamang: “The middlemen sometimes cheat us by offering much less than the seeds are worth, and they don’t allow us to speak directly with the Chinese buyers. But even if we did, there would be a language barrier.” Meanwhile, Singha Bahadur Lama who started out as a Buddhachitta farmer now owns a nursery and is a dealer in saplings himself. Some Nepalis have tried to sell directly in China, but face added costs of travel and hotel while there. &nbsp; With contributions from Qian Sun, Global Voices.

Sacred seed feeds boom

Dimar Chaudhary was born and raised in Old Padampur, the village inside what is now Chitwan National Park before it was dsignated a protected area. His Tharu community, as well as other indigenous groups, traditionally relied on Chitwan’s jungles and rivers for generations. Chaudhary himself had grown up collecting medicinal plants and wild vegetables, gathering wood, and grazing cattle in the forest. Chitwan, along with much of Nepal’s Tarai, was plagued by malaria until a US-supported DDT spraying campaign to wipe out the disease in the district in the 1950s. This opened the valley up to trans-migration of farmers from the hills. Before that, Chitwan was inhabited entirely by indigenous people: 90% of the district’s population was Tharu, and the rest were Bote, Mushar, Darai and Majhi communities. In 1973 Chitwan National Park became Nepal's first protected area and in 1996, the Nepal government introduced the Buffer Zone Management Rule under the National Parks and Wildlife Conservation Act to manage forests surrounding protected areas, and ensure local participation in parks management. Old Padampur was subsequently relocated outside the park. Ntional parks formed buffer zone user committees (BZUCs) to manage and oversee community forests. Hundreds of thousands of local people were directly involved in managing buffer zone community forests across the country. Over three decades, these forests have not only made conservation collaborative, but also helped to mitigate wildlife-related crimes and human wildlife conflict. In 2014, 2015 and 2016, Nepal achieved zero poaching for its three flagship species: rhinos, tigers and elephants. But while these user communities have made wildlife conservation participatory, the process hasn’t been inclusive of Nepal’s indigenous and underserved communities. In 2022, WWF supported Community Conservation Nepal to collect data on natural resources used by Tharu indigenous people before the establishment of Chitwan National Park. The project also looked into the inclusion of indigenous, women, Dalit and disabled communities in the Baghauda, Paachpandav, Meghauli, Mrigakunja, and Amaltari Buffer Zone User Committees (BZUC) as well as the Someshwor, Gardi Chure, Radha Krishna, and Baghmara Buffer Zone Community Forests (BZCF).  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251210141228_83a5b021c62b6c4a67888e5eee85d3fdcba3fd34d00e581996213d1ae10d6977.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20251210141228_83a5b021c62b6c4a67888e5eee85d3fdcba3fd34d00e581996213d1ae10d6977" data-rendition-name="original" width="1342" height="941" loading="lazy" alt="BZUC map"></figure>  BARRIERS TO INCLUSION The survey found that women are underrepresented in all the BZUCs despite women user groups being larger. Nepal’s Buffer Zone laws dictate that each BZUC has 13 members. Each BZUC is made up of nine units, and as many representatives are elected from those units. The elected members have the authority to choose the remaining four members. This meant that indigenous peoples, marginalised groups, and women have a far lower chance of being elected. Indeed, out of the total members, Paachpandav and Mrigakunja BCUZs had four women, Meghauli had three women, and Baghauda had only one woman, whereas Amaltari user committee had no woman member. In contrast, the BZCF are relatively more inclusive of women, with two out of four surveyed BZCF comprising half women members. Additionally, some grassroots user committees are made up entirely of women. Most women members of the user committees are not appointed through elections, but chosen by elected male members, and are not given positions of leadership. “Women have been the ones protecting the forests ever since the concept of forest conservation initially emerged,” one female participant told us during a focus group discussion. People would get angry when the women stopped them from cutting down trees and grass, and grazing cattle in the jungles, she recalled, adding, “We were dedicated to the user committees. However, we are no longer involved in the committees, nor are we invited to meetings.” When asked about the absence of women in the user committees, one BZUC chairperson responded, “There are only men here because they won the election. Women are unwilling to run for the election. How will they fit into the committee if no woman has ever run for election?” However, not only are women deprived of the chance to contest elections, the chances of them winning polls are also very low because a majority of the positions in the committee will already have been allocated by political parties to their male cadres. Women from marginalised communities face further hurdles.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20251210141228_7ee7dc43b925b4d6e97bfdc5a02df85d4d828e8a82eb00d3086217baf2438b43.png" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20251210141228_7ee7dc43b925b4d6e97bfdc5a02df85d4d828e8a82eb00d3086217baf2438b43" data-rendition-name="original" width="959" height="508" loading="lazy" alt="BZUC "></figure>  “No male member from the Musahar community has been elected in the user community, if they had, they could have suggested that women from our community be included in the committee as well,” said a female participant from the Musahar community. While the native Musahar and Bote people lack representation in the BZUC, indigenous people did make up the majority of the members in the committees, while Dalit members were included in some collectives. However, only one committee is led by an indigenous person. The others are chaired by upper-caste hill migrants. In addition, no committee had any representative with disabilities. One of the key reasons for the under-representation of marginalised communities in Nepal’s BZUC is its non-inclusive policy. When Nepal’s Constitution was promulgated in 2015, residents living in proximity to protected areas across Nepal had hoped that policies relating to buffer zones and their governance would be reformed to reflect Nepal’s new socio-political reality. But this has not been the case. However, this has not discouraged indigenous Nepalis, who have continued to demand buffer zone policy reforms that ensure the inclusion of women, indigenous and marginalised communities. In addition to policy revision, it is necessary to reform the buffer zone election so that it is more participatory for underserved communities. Reforms should also regulate the number of members in a user group. Similarly, the budget allocated for buffer zones must be used on activities that benefit conservation instead of local infrastructure development. Women, people with disabilities, indigenous and marginalised communities should be the primary beneficiaries of budget dispensation. Crop damage compensation, which currently is Rs10,000, can be increased by five times to Rs50,000. Policy revisions should ultimately guarantee the rights of indigenous communities like the Sonaha, Bote and Musahar to practice their culture and traditional livelihoods and receive a formal education. Buffer Zone User Committees must apply indigenous conservation practices for park management. Birendra Mahato is an elected member of the Ratnanagar Municipality Ward 6 and Founder Chair of the Tharu Culture Museum Research Centre in Sauraha.

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