By Somini Sengupta
Monday, April 23, 2007
THIMPHU, Bhutan: Can "Desperate Housewives," free trade and multiparty elections deliver happiness?
The people of Bhutan, the tiny Buddhist nation once known as the hermit kingdom of the Himalayas, pondered these questions this weekend, as they undertook a sort of fire drill for democracy and set down an important marker on their carefully ordered journey toward modernity.
King Jigme Singye Wangchuck, who recently announced his plan to abdicate, has ordered parliamentary elections for next year. In preparation for the real thing, more than 125,000 Bhutanese citizens participated Saturday in what the government called "mock elections," lining up at polling booths across the country and choosing from four "dummy" political parties: Druk Blue, Druk Green, Druk Red and Druk Yellow. Druk is the Dzongkha word for the country's national symbol, the thunder dragon, and Bhutan is believed to be its lair.
That lair, having once sealed itself off from the world, has cautiously and deliberately begun opening up. Television, including foreign cable stations, was allowed entry in 1999 (and featured an episode of the American series "Desperate Housewives" on election day). The Internet came soon thereafter. There are no McDonald's golden arches poking out from the blue pine forests yet, though the influence of global consumer culture can be glimpsed in the Pepe Jeans on young men and a convenience store here that calls itself 8-Eleven. The government is considering joining the World Trade Organization. Foreign tourists are allowed to come in somewhat larger numbers than before, albeit still chaperoned from one high-priced resort to another.
"A cautious approach," Prime Minister Khandu Wangchuk called it. In an interview here Friday he added: "We were conscious of the fact that interaction with the world would only benefit us. We have had no reason to put the brakes on."
Elections, he said, have been embraced, albeit reluctantly, by the citizenry, because this is what the king wanted.
"The objectives are to ensure national security, national sovereignty, well-being and prosperity, which will lead to gross national happiness also," he said. "His Majesty believes this is the best form of government, and the people of Bhutan are ready to launch this."
How the strange lures of modernity will affect Bhutan's gross national happiness, the unusual yardstick the king invented to measure his nation's progress, is a matter of uncertainty and wonder in this country. Gross national happiness includes criteria such as equity, good governance and harmony with nature. It apparently does not include harmony with the 100,000 ethnic Nepalese who fled in 1990 after a royal crackdown on their agitation for democratic rights and who have since languished in refugee camps across the border in Nepal.
In any case, the king's call for elections, along with a Constitution that will introduce multiparty democracy, forestalls any ferment for freedom, from inside or outside the country. For the moment at least, Bhutan does not resemble a democracy, particularly not compared with other countries in the region. Barely two political parties have been formed. It is far from having a fractious free press or an active civil society. Criticism of government policy is rare, except from abroad.
Not surprisingly, ethnic Nepalese dissidents have denounced the elections as a ploy to deflect international attention from the refugee crisis. The government prefers to call them illegal immigrants who had to be forced out because they threatened to swamp a small, fragile country of about 700,000 people.
The Bhutanese monarchy turns 100 this year, and Jigme apparently decided this was an auspicious time to further reduce its power. The national elections next year are part of a process that began nearly a decade ago, when the king introduced party-less elections to choose members of Parliament. Next, day-to-day governance was handed over to the Council of Ministers. The proposed Constitution would remove the king as head of the government, set a mandatory retirement age for the monarch at 65, and empower an elected Parliament to oust the king altogether with a two-thirds majority vote.
Last December, Jigme, who ruled this country for more than 30 years, announced that he was abdicating in favor of his 26-year-old son, Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck.
The prospect of self-governance seemed to send shivers down many spines here. Why have politicians? people wanted to know. Wasn't the king always supposed to know what is best for his people and guide them accordingly? Couldn't they see what democracy had wrought on neighboring countries?
"I'm a little bit skeptical," Sonam Wangmo said as she waited in line Saturday to cast her vote in a neighborhood school with calla lilies blooming in the garden. "I'm not sure whether it will work, or whether it will be better for our country."
Two long lines formed on the school grounds, one for men, one for women, quiet and well-disciplined, and with only a few grumbles despite waits of up to an hour or more just to reach the polling booth.
Unusually for this part of the world, Bhutan is an exceedingly orderly place, where traffic rules are closely obeyed and the color of a shawl denotes social rank. Native dress is mandatory at work and at school. For men, this means a knee-length robe; for women, a short jacket and long wrap-around skirt.
With sustained government spending on health and education, the gains in basic social indicators over the last several decades have been remarkable, from reducing child mortality to increasing school enrollment.
Bhutan remains a poor country, heavily reliant on foreign aid and with little industry. But it is set to reap the latest bounty from the one natural resource that it has in plenty: the water that comes rushing down from the Himalayas, and which it has harnessed, with Indian help, to create hydroelectric power. Most of that power will be exported to India. What clocks are to Switzerland, water can be for Bhutan. According to the World Bank, the country could see up to 14 percent economic growth in the coming years, though it will not necessarily create many jobs.
"The going is good," said Tshering Tobgay, 42, a retired civil servant who is working with a former cabinet minister to start the People's Democratic Party. "We want more of the same."
This is one reason, he said, that even would-be politicians like himself find it hard to sell their message to the citizenry. "We are not starting a party because we have an ideology. We're not starting a party because we have a vision for a better Bhutan. We are starting a party because the king has ordered us."
He sat on the patio of a bar, cupping his beer can in a napkin, because this was Friday and alcohol sales were prohibited on the day before the election. "It's a big compliment to the king that no one's very enthusiastic."
Another patron in the bar, Kesang Dorji, 36, said he was puzzled by the royal order to vote, but intended to obey.
"We have to stand fast to the wisdom of our monarch," Dorji said. "He knows what's best for us. Any normal person would think, 'Why this, when everything is okay?"'
Holding on to the way things are seems to have been Bhutan's choice in the mock elections. Each of the Druk parties came with a platform. Druk Blue promised to fight corruption and extend free health care and education. Druk Green stood for "environment-friendly development." Druk Red promised industrialization. And Druk Yellow asked: "Do you believe in the preservation and promotion of our rich cultural heritage and tradition? Vote for Druk Yellow Party."
On Sunday, Druk Yellow emerged as the hands-down winner, with 44 percent of the vote, according to the Election Commission. Next Saturday, it takes on Druk Red, which won about 20 percent, in a mock runoff.
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