Finally becoming citizens

21 January 2015, By T P Mishra
The personal and political implications of third-country resettlement and naturalisation for Bhutan’s refugees.
Khem Khadka was only seven when his entire family was evicted from Bhutan in 1991. His family’s eviction, along with that of tens of thousands of others, was a result of the government’s enforcement of the ‘one nation, one people’ policy, and its active opposition to ethnic pluralism. Khadka, like so many others, spent most of his young adult life in refugee camps in Nepal. His hope for a better future was,
however, realised in 2007, when the United States and seven other Western countries offered the prospect of third-country resettlement. Even as his parents remained firm in their decision to await repatriation, Khadka immediately declared his interest in third-country resettlement. For him, the possibility of gaining US citizenship was preferable to remaining stateless in a refugee camp in Nepal. Khadka finally made it to North Carolina in the summer of 2009, some two years after the policy of resettlement was first announced. According to Khadka, his ‘well-defined future’ was made real in September 2014, when he took the Oath of Allegiance to the United States of America and became a citizen for the first time in his life. He believes that it was the beginning of a new chapter for his four-member family. Khadka’s family is now middle class, and he and his wife balance their lives between full-time jobs and raising two kids who are already attending pre-kindergarten school. Khadka works as an assistant department manager at a grocery store and plans on resuming his college education in spring 2015. His wife works both as a waitress and supervisor at a senior’s home.

Unsurprisingly, Khadka was emotional on the day he took his Oath of Allegiance, and says it was one of the happiest moments of his life. He no longer sees himself permanently repatriating to Bhutan, whatever the Bhutanese government’s policy: “Now I have a nation that considers me and my two wonderful kids as citizens. Comparatively, my kids, who by the way were born here, will have a much better future in the United States than in Bhutan.” He added with pride, “History has proven that the second generation – like my kids – will be more competent and will have better skills than first-generation Americans.” Many Bhutanese refugees already resettled share Khadka’s optimism: most are on the threshold of financial security, and some have even started to buy homes. Above all, Bhutanese refugees resettled in the West enjoy freedom.

As of December 2014, according to the Embassy of the United States in Nepal, at least 93,000 former Bhutanese refugees have journeyed from Nepal’s refugee camps to eight different countries in the West. Among them at least 80,000 were resettled in the United States alone. Thousands of Bhutanese refugees have since become naturalised citizens in their countries of resettlement. Like Khadka, many of them consider naturalisation the beginning of a new chapter in their lives. For some, it is their first experience of citizenship, while others whose citizenship was revoked in Bhutan are becoming citizens again after nearly 24 years of statelessness.

Jogen Gazmere, a former prisoner of conscience, is a recently naturalised Australian citizen. He says that after being arbitrarily deprived of citizenship and rendered stateless for almost two decades, being granted Australian citizenship provides a strong sense of security, belonging and peace. Still, Gazmere retains a strong emotional connection to Bhutan: “Despite being forcibly exiled, the love for my country of origin never ever dies. And even as an Australian citizen, I feel proud to be supporting my country of origin through various aid programs funded by my contribution as a taxpayer.” Gazmere does not appear to mind the fact that this money is funding the programmes of the state responsible for his exile, though he did point out the need to make Bhutan more inclusive. “For this, the resettled Bhutanese should continue playing their roles through their respective governments in respective countries of resettlement,” he says.

While the younger generation – born and raised inside refugee camps in Nepal – might eventually become estranged from their country of birth, many first-generation refugees like Gazmere and Khadka continue to identify with Bhutan. A large chunk of Nepali-speaking Bhutanese refugees continue to be ambivalent about their identity. Those born in Nepal’s refugee camps often refer to themselves as Nepalese, while others actively assert their Bhutanese identity. For many, naturalisation in the West offers a solution to identity issues.

Thinley Penjore, former president of the exile-based Druk National Congress-Democratic, now lives in the United States, though is yet to be naturalised. According to Penjore, “People resettled in most part of the world prefer to claim themselves as Nepalese rather than as Bhutanese.” Anecdotal evidence often supports this observation. Ironically, a nineteen-year-old Bhutanese refugee residing in the United States told a sports blog in 2013 that he dreams to play soccer for Real Madrid and make Nepal known worldwide.  

Recalibrating a relationshipAs a corollary to naturalisation in the West, there has been a shift in the dynamics of political activism on Bhutanese refugee issues. Some resettled refugees have argued that naturalisation ended their right to support Bhutan’s freedom movement – a cause these refugees peacefully voiced for more than two decades. Many refugees formerly engaged in political activities aimed at repatriation have been quiet after resettlement, and have even ceased lending their solidarity to such campaigns. Within this context, the younger generation may choose to move forward by ignoring their past, while others may begin to see Thimphu in a more sympathetic light, owing to Bhutan’s limited democratic reforms.

There is significant disagreement among the diaspora on the merits of Bhutanese democracy. While Gazmere believes democracy has been established in Bhutan, even if it requires further consolidation, Penjore argues that the country still has a long way to go. According to Penjore though, the role of the diaspora in hastening democratisation is necessarily limited: “There is a need for the movement to continue, but a political movement for democracy or rights to liberty cannot be fought from outside the country. It should come from inside the country, where the citizens belong.”