King of Bhutan can rectify historical injustices by embracing refugees

The King of Bhutan, Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck - who is revered within the country and exotified outside of it - is in the midst of an eight-day visit to Australia. The adoration with which his subjects have received him fits the carefully cultivated image of Bhutan, which presents itself as a Shangri-La with Gross National Happiness as its most memorable metric. The country willingly transitioned to democracy in 2008.

Yet the very nature of the King's visit to Australia - not a state visit, but instead one aimed at the Bhutanese diaspora - reveals a truth that is well-known to Bhutan watchers: Bhutan's widespread unemployment has triggered a significant outflow of young professionals and civil servants, many of whom have come to Australia. The King's visit is a strategic move to ensure that the tiny Himalayan country continues to ensure ties with this population, to minimise the effects of brain drain.

But the King has overlooked a key diaspora group: the more than 6,000 Australians from Bhutan or of Bhutanese descent who were expelled from Bhutan in the early 1990s. This population - who settled in Australia only in the past 15 years - have been model citizens here. They have become doctors, nurses, teachers and artists. Their youth win government awards. And they maintain deep and abiding affection for Bhutan, despite their history of expulsion.

It would take very little for the King to welcome them as part of the broader Bhutanese diaspora in Australia, in which case they could offer significant resources to Bhutan.

Bhutan's expulsion of its own citizens

The story of Bhutan's former refugees is very little known. In the early 1990s, the Nepali-speaking minority in Bhutan began to feel the brunt of government actions that were profoundly marginalising - policies that ended the teaching of Nepali, required the wearing of traditional clothing, and enacted a census designed to weed out illegal immigrants but which ended up targeting full citizens.

Nepali-speaking Bhutanese, as well as a small number of other ethnic minorities, protested the government policies in a series of demonstrations. Bhutan was unaccustomed to protest, and the reaction of the government was to label anyone who attended the protests as an "anti-national" and push them out of Bhutan, using a combination of threats, destruction of property, imprisonment and torture.

Over the last three decades, Bhutan has expelled one-sixth of its population. This population of about 80,000 grew to 110,000 in refugee camps in Nepal, until about 2010, when a programme of resettlement allowed nearly all of them to move to countries where they could obtain citizenship. Australia accepted 6,825 refugees.

I have been researching Bhutan's refugees for nearly 20 years. In every one of my nearly 100 interviews, I have heard the painful stories of families losing their homes, livelihoods and land in Bhutan. They remember the orange groves, the fields of garlic, the cardamom crops. They reminisce about the school picnics with friends. Some had important jobs and high-level connections - one played tennis with the then King, another worked for the United Nations Development Programme, and many travelled internationally while they were civil servants in Bhutan.

Despite the treatment they endured, these refugees, and their children, still harbour great affection for the country. Many still speak about the King with great reverence.

Strengthening relationships with former refugees

It is therefore a blow of existential proportions that, in his very first visit to Australia, the King has excluded former Bhutanese refugees. None have been invited to the tightly restricted events that the King has planned. Articles commenting on the excitement of the diaspora make no mention of ethnic Nepalis who arrived as refugees. This is despite the fact that there are vibrant populations of former refugees in Sydney and Adelaide, where organisations like the Association of Bhutanese in Australia organise volunteering, language support and cultural events.

The King could easily strengthen relationships with former refugees in Australia who now have permanent citizenship by doing three things.

First, he could acknowledge ethnic Nepalis in Australia as part of the Bhutanese diaspora. There is even time during this trip for the King to visit one of these communities, where he would be welcomed with great excitement. It's important to remember that the historical injustices occurred under the reign of the former King. My research - as well as the words of community members - indicates that there is virtually no bitterness directed toward this King for the government actions of the 1990s. All he would have to do is contact one of these communities, and they would host him with great pleasure.

Second, there are a number of ethnic Nepali political prisoners in Bhutan who were caught up in the events of the early 1990s. As Human Rights Watch has urged, the King could release these prisoners whose primary crimes were demanding democracy at a time when democracy had not yet arrived in Bhutan. These prisoners simply want to reunite with their families.

Third, over the past three decades, not one former refugee has been permitted to return to Bhutan - not to visit family members, or to travel as a tourist, or to return on a more permanent basis. Many of my research participants would love nothing better than to see old school friends or visit the capital for the first time. Others, who remain in Nepal, would like the possibility of returning to the country more permanently. Reopening a conversation about ways that Bhutan's refugees might travel to Bhutan would immediately endear the King to all of Bhutan's ethnic Nepali diaspora members.

For a King who is looking to improve his country's prospects, appealing to a well-educated and skilled set of the diaspora is a win-win strategy.

This article was first published on ABC Religion & Ethics as 'By embracing former refugees, the King of Bhutan can rectify his nation's historical injustices', written by Associate Professor Susan Banki from the School of Social and Political Sciences.