By Ganga Lamitaree– Columbus, OH

The level of corruption in Bhutan is unparalleled compared to any other country. In other nations, independent and impartial media expose such issues, but in Bhutan, these matters never come to light.

News related to corruption, irregularities, and political events in Bhutan is never revealed. All media outlets in the country are under government control, ensuring that crimes remain hidden. Even if corruption is discovered, the state does not investigate. Anyone who speaks about corruption risks imprisonment and may spend their life rotting in jail. The 1990 uprising was, in fact, rooted in corruption and extreme disorder. To protect corrupt officials, the King expelled a large portion of the Lhotshampa community from the country. This might sound surprising, but it is the truth.

Until 1985, Bhutan’s administration followed a decentralized system. The King had delegated local governance responsibilities to the districts, entrusting them with development and infrastructure projects. However, over time, the King realized that the district administrators (Dzongdas) were deeply involved in corruption and irregularities. When he understood that the nation was drowning in corruption, he ordered the formation of an anti-corruption commission under the leadership of Royal Advisory Councilor Tek Nath Rizal to investigate these issues.

The commission, led by Rizal, conducted a prolonged investigation and found that not only the Dzongdas but also powerful members of the royal family were involved in corruption. The then Deputy Minister of Home Affairs, Dago Tshering’s brother, who was the Dzongda of Thimphu at the time, was discovered to have misused and embezzled millions of rupees. Based on the King’s directive, he was imprisoned, just like others involved. Almost all 18 district administrators were jailed due to corruption and irregularities, following the King’s strict order to spare no one.

The extreme level of corruption created widespread unrest and fear across the nation. With the King’s directive, the commission intensified its investigation. However, when the inquiry extended to Bhutan’s banks and financial institutions, powerful corrupt figures within the royal family and intermediaries began to panic. They secretly started conspiring against Rizal, weaving various plots to undermine him.

Rizal’s Unwavering Loyalty and the Conspiracy Against Him
Rizal had gained the King’s trust by demonstrating selfless service to the nation and unwavering loyalty to the monarchy. The King was deeply impressed by Rizal’s patriotism and dedication to the country. Along with a few other officers, the King even sent Rizal to Australia for six months to learn English. However, Rizal’s growing popularity and close association with the King started to unsettle corrupt officials and intermediaries.
One of Rizal’s fiercest adversaries was Deputy Home Minister Dago Tshering. Determined to bring Rizal down, he conspired with corrupt palace officials and orchestrated various schemes against him. Dago Tshering even assembled a group of spies to uncover and fabricate evidence against Rizal. Fueled by power and intoxicated with authority, Dago collaborated with corrupt members of the royal family to execute his plans. Rizal later mentioned in his book Nirbāshan(Exile) that this marked the beginning of the campaign against the Lhotshampas.

As the commission continued its investigation, it became evident that powerful members of the royal family were involved in corruption worth millions. Corruption under the monarchy’s protection had pushed the nation into a deep swamp. The commission was preparing to submit its report to the King. A group of auditors and experts brought from Delhi had finalized the report. Rizal was eager to present it to the King, but at that time, the King was away from Thimphu. While waiting, Rizal sensed that an unseen force was working against him. However, he had strong faith that the King would protect him. Since the King had only given verbal orders for the investigation without issuing an official decree, Rizal had no legal documentation to support his work.

At that time, Bhutan had no formal constitution or legal system—everything depended on the King’s will. The King’s wishes were effectively the country’s law.
Meanwhile, a strict census operation was being conducted in southern Bhutan, creating an atmosphere of terror. The local administration and census officials were wreaking havoc in the region, dividing family members into different categories and dismantling familial unity. Those classified under categories 4 and 7 were being forced to leave the country immediately under threats and intimidation, leaving the people in fear and distress. A rumor spread to Thimphu that a woman in Chhilingkhar village had been driven to suicide due to the census turmoil. In response, Lhotshampa officials in Thimphu urged Rizal, as a representative of the people, to appeal to the King regarding the injustices of the census. They drafted a petition and handed it over to Rizal, urging him to submit it to the King.

Rizal Falls Victim to a Grand Conspiracy
Putting aside the corruption report for the time being, Rizal shifted his focus to the growing issues caused by the ongoing census. Prioritizing the people’s grievances, he personally went to the palace on April 9, 1988, and submitted an appeal to the King. Upon receiving the appeal, the King assured Rizal that he would immediately visit Chirang to assess the situation. True to his word, the King left for Chirang. While the King was in Chirang, Lhotshampa villagers started gathering in large numbers at Rizal’s residence in Thimphu, bringing with them accounts of discrimination and injustices committed by the district administration and the census team. Three days later, when the King returned from Chirang, the corrupt palace officials seized the opportunity to frame Rizal. They conspired with Subash Ghisingh from Darjeeling, who was leading the Gorkhaland movement at the time, and falsely informed the King that Rizal was planning a rebellion in Bhutan.
They twisted the gathering of villagers at Rizal’s home, portraying it as secretive planning for an uprising. They even took photographs of the crowd outside Rizal’s house and presented them to the King as evidence of his supposed rebellion. As a result, the situation escalated rapidly, allowing the corrupt intermediaries to gain the upper hand.

Their main objective was to ensure that the corruption report never reached the King. They continued to spread baseless accusations, claiming that Rizal was inciting the southern Bhutanese people against the King and the country. Shockingly, those who falsely accused Rizal were not outsiders—they were the King’s own relatives. His sister and brother-in-law, uncles and aunts, and even his father-in-law and other family members who had received lucrative government contracts played a role in framing Rizal.
One of the key figures in this conspiracy was the King’s uncle, then-Home Minister Tenzing Lhamo, also known as Paro Penlop. He worked behind the scenes, misleading the Lhotshampas by saying that the government’s policies were unjust and urging them to resist. At the same time, he falsely convinced the King that the Lhotshampas, with Rizal’s leadership, were conspiring with Darjeeling to annex southern Bhutan into Gorkhaland.
Caught in this massive web of deceit and political maneuvering, Rizal became the ultimate scapegoat. As a lone individual, he stood no chance against the combined forces of the monarchy and corrupt intermediaries. The King and his allies did not just sideline Rizal—they made him the sacrificial lamb of the state’s sinister conspiracy.

The King’s Dilemma and Rizal’s Imprisonment
Once the King realized that the corrupt intermediaries and palace conspirators were united against Rizal, his mindset shifted completely. He began to see not just corruption but a greater threat—one that loomed directly over his own throne. Instead of risking his power by confronting a web of deeply entrenched corruption, he found it easier to sacrifice one man—Rizal.
The King decided to apply a strategy where he could eliminate the perceived threat while keeping his powerful allies intact. Rather than dismantling the corrupt network that had flourished under his rule for three generations, he chose to frame Rizal instead. After all, if imprisoning one man could safeguard his throne and power, why not take that route? History had shown that rulers often prioritized their survival over justice.
Another crucial aspect was the monarchy’s financial hold over the state. Approximately 40% of Bhutan’s annual budget was allocated to sustaining the royal family, with no accountability or auditing of these funds. No one had the authority to question this expenditure.

Meanwhile, 30% of the budget went to salaries and benefits for public servants, and the remaining 30% was dedicated to the security sector. The country’s actual development, infrastructure, and welfare received virtually no financial allocation. The current government faced severe financial distress, as evidenced by Bhutan’s Prime Minister continuously seeking foreign aid.
Instead of acting on the commission’s corruption report and prosecuting those responsible, the King ordered Rizal’s arrest. Shortly after Rizal was imprisoned, Deputy Home Minister Dago Tshering personally led a police unit to raid his house. In a manner reminiscent of a military crackdown, they conducted a thorough search and confiscated important documents, including the investigative commission’s corruption report—documents Rizal had intended to present to the King.

Despite his imprisonment, Rizal remained hopeful that the King would grant him an audience. He believed that if he could meet the King, he could reveal the true faces of the corrupt individuals plundering the nation from behind the scenes. However, his pleas went unheard. For 10 long years, Rizal languished in prison, desperately requesting meetings with the King through military and police officials, including Dago Tshering. Yet, no one listened, nor was he ever granted an opportunity to present his case.
In his memoir Nirbasan (Exile), Rizal expresses his deep frustration over how the state’s machinery, instead of addressing corruption, had turned against him, making him a scapegoat while those truly responsible continued to thrive in power.
From Rijal’s statement, it becomes clear that in a country with a population of only 700,000, it is impossible for the king to be unaware of what is happening. In Bhutan, nothing happens without the king’s command—not even a dog barking or a leaf moving. Rijal complains that the king used every possible means—coercion, bribery, and manipulation—to make him a scapegoat.

Rijal, in exile, also made an important revelation about why 100,000 Lhotshampa citizens were being expelled from the country. He described an incident that occurred just days before his imprisonment. One day, a senior official from the Indian Embassy in Thimphu invited Rijal’s family for dinner. At that time, Rijal had been verbally prohibited by Dago Tshering from meeting any foreign or diplomatic personnel. He informed the embassy official that he was not allowed to meet anyone. However, the official insisted that it was a purely personal and family invitation, not a political one. After repeated requests, Rijal and his family attended the dinner.

During the gathering, they had a pleasant meal and engaged in casual family conversations. In the midst oftheir discussions, the Indian official confidentially informed Rijal that the Bhutanese government was planning to expel 100,000 southern Bhutanese citizens. At first, Rijal found it hard to believe. However, the official then showed him a draft agreement between Bhutan’s Deputy Home Minister Dago Tshering and the Indian Ambassador, signed just a week earlier.
Reading the draft, Rijal was shocked. The document stated that to maintain demographic balance, Bhutan had decided to expel 100,000 Lhotshampas and sought India’s cooperation and support. It further mentioned that the democratic wave sweeping the world could also impact Bhutan, and the influence of the Darjeeling movement was severely affecting southern Bhutan. Before such influences could take root, the government planned to deport the Lhotshampas. As Rijal read this, he felt as if the ground beneath his feet was collapsing, his head spun, and darkness engulfed him. He never imagined that the state would betray and discriminate against its hardworking citizens for its own vested interests.
In 1985, a government census reported that Lhotshampas made up 45% of Bhutan’s total population. This alarmed the government, leading to an orchestrated campaign of deception and conspiracy against the Lhotshampa people. Determined to expel 100,000 people, the government implemented various discriminatory laws and ordinances targeting southern Bhutanese. A series of oppression and persecution unfolded against the Lhotshampas.

From Rijal’s perspective, it is evident that the 1990 uprising was not initiated by the people but was instigated by the state. The government forced the people into rebellion. Expelling over 100,000 citizens without any legitimate reason was no small matter. Furthermore, Bhutan did not execute this plan alone—such large-scale displacement would not have been successful without India’s involvement. The extent of India’s support for Bhutan’s displacement of Lhotshampas was made clear in a 1997 statement by then-Indian Foreign Minister Pranab Mukherjee. Addressing a delegation of refugees, Mukherjee stated that Bhutan expelled 100,000 Lhotshampas to maintain its demographic balance, and as a good neighbor, India assisted in the process.
He further rebuked the refugees, saying, “If you want to return to your country, don’t do it by making a scene in large groups—just return quietly, one by one. Why all the commotion and noise?”

Initially, India provided shelter to Bhutanese activists on its territory, such as in Garganda , but later, following protests in Bhutan, Indian authorities forcefully deported the Lhotshampas across the Mechi River into Nepal. This action confirms that India was directly involved in and supported Bhutan’s 1990 mass expulsion of 100,000 Lhotshampas.
The Bhutanese government had been implementing various oppressive measures for years to expel the southern citizens, but the people remained unfazed. The state introduced a “One Nation, One People” policy, yet the citizens did not waver. The government then introduced a policy to create a green belt within six kilometers of the Indian border, where the density of Nepali-speaking citizens was high. However, the people ignored this as well. Similarly, the government introduced the Interracial Marriage Act, which promised newly married couples incentives such as an ox, four acres of land, and ten thousand ngultrum in cash. Yet, the Lhotshampas paid no attention to this law either.

When none of these measures succeeded in displacing the southern citizens, the government enacted the Citizenship Act in 1985, using 1958 as the base year. To qualify as a Category 1 citizen, individuals had to provide proof of residency in Bhutan from 1958. Those unable to provide such proof were divided into seven different categories, creating divisions and conflicts within families. Even when people claimed they had lost their documents due to migration or destruction by fire, the government refused to listen. The census teams deliberately rendered many citizens stateless. However, even this did not shake the people; they continued to endure.

After failing to drive out the Lhotshampasu through these policies, the government banned the Nepali language, which had been taught in southern schools for decades, and burned all Nepali textbooks. It also prohibited the traditional dress, culture, and practices of the Lhotshampa community. Furthermore, it renamed the villages, towns, rivers, and sacred sites of southern Bhutan to enforce linguistic and cultural assimilation (Dzongkha-fication). Even priests, monks, and newlyweds were stripped of their right to wear traditional Nepali attire during weddings, religious rituals, and ceremonies.
The government made it mandatory to speak and write in Dzongkha instead of Nepali for official purposes. Wearing the national dress, “Gho” for men and “Kira” for women, was strictly enforced, and those who failed to comply faced a month in prison or a fine of one thousand ngultrum. This suppression of language and attire silenced the voices of the southern people, suffocating them as if they had lost their very breath. The Lhotshampas felt their identity being stripped away, like a cow without its horns and tail.

Only then did their third eye open. They began to mobilize, realizing their complete disenfranchisement. They organized themselves and took to the streets, demanding the restoration of their rights. This was exactly what the government wanted. It sought to provoke resistance so that it could brand them as traitors and terrorists, providing an excuse for their mass expulsion from the country. The government was fully prepared for this outcome.
From September 19 to October 10, 1990, demonstrations took place in the southern districts of Bhutan, demanding human rights and the establishment of democracy. These protests were not against the king but rather against the discrimination and injustices prevailing in the country. However, instead of understanding the sentiments of the people, the government deployed armed forces against them. For five years, the military exercised unchecked power over the southern villages. Schools, colleges, and government institutions in the south were turned into army barracks, effectively militarizing southern Bhutan.

The armed forces mercilessly beat and looted the people. They set fire to homes and imprisoned numerous men. In villages left without men, soldiers would enter at night and rape women and girls. They coerced families into signing documents agreeing to leave the country in exchange for the release of their imprisoned husbands or sons. Unable to endure the brutality, many citizens were forced to flee the country overnight, leaving behind all their possessions. Even those who attempted to claim compensation for their confiscated land were terrorized by the military, which dismissed their claims, saying they lacked sufficient proof.

Some were made to sign documents in Dzongkha, falsely stating they were leaving the country voluntarily. They were forced to smile for photographs while receiving money as “compensation,” which was later stolen by soldiers waiting at the door. If anyone protested, they were threatened at gunpoint and expelled from the office. This systematic physical and psychological persecution left the Lhotshampa people with no choice but to abandon their homeland. The inhumane actions of the state were so severe that words alone cannot fully capture their extent.
Today, many continue to deify Bhutan’s fourth king, Jigme Singye Wangchuck, portraying him as an incarnation of Lord Vishnu. Whether inside or outside the country, it is crucial for every new generation to understand the true mastermind behind the events of 1990. Those who sing praises of the king for building temples, providing free healthcare, and offering education to children must also be aware of the actions he orchestrated behind the scenes under the guise of national development and prosperity.

Every citizen must recognize that a country is not the personal property of a king, an inherited estate, or a dowry from in-laws. A nation belongs to its people—it is their common ground and foundation. A country can exist and function without a king, but without its people, there is neither a nation nor a ruler. The people are sovereign and paramount. Education, healthcare, and employment are fundamental rights that every citizen should receive from the state, not privileges granted out of royal generosity. What truly matters is whether the taxes paid by citizens are being used properly—a question that every individual must seek to answer.

Until 1990, the Bhutanese government claimed a population of 1.3 million to receive foreign aid. But who misappropriated the millions in financial assistance that donors provided annually for national development and public welfare? Did anyone dare to investigate it? From 1972 to 1990, who plundered the foreign aid meant for 1.3 million citizens, and how was it done? No one has an accurate account of it.
Merely wearing a bakhu and dancing in a temple built by the king does not make one a free and sovereign citizen. True citizenship means living with independence and dignity, like a real human being. Patriotism and national pride do not reside in a specific uniform but in the hearts of true citizens. The King of Bhutan is not just a cook; he is also the ultimate authority. But as the supreme ruler, is he serving all citizens equally? It is every citizen’s responsibility to question this.

In reality, the root cause of Bhutan’s problems is its absolute monarchy. The current system, established illegally in 1907 by overthrowing the religious governance of the first Dharma King, ShabdrungNgawang Namgyal, and shedding the blood of thousands, is not legitimate by any means. This does not mean that all Bhutanese kings were bad or regressive—some may have been good and liberal. However, when the system itself is opaque and illegitimate, no matter how good or liberal the ruler is, the country will never achieve peace, stability, development, or prosperity—something Bhutan continues to experience today.
There is a powerful force within Bhutan that always wants the king to remain absolute so that they can continue plundering the country’s wealth. If the king were legitimate, they would not be able to exploit the nation’s economy. Therefore, they do everything they can to keep the monarchy in an unaccountable and autocratic state.

Rizal further stated that he never got the opportunity to inform his friends and colleagues in Thimphu about the government’s cruel plan to render the Lhotshampas stateless. Instead, he was imprisoned but released a week later. He made multiple attempts to meet the king, but the royal aides never allowed it, a grievance he openly expressed.
One day, Rizal was summoned to the Home Ministry, where all his important documents were confiscated. Even his parliamentary identity card was taken by Dago Tshering before he was let go. With the situation in Thimphu becoming unbearable, Rizal moved to his home in Gelephu. However, living near the border meant he could be arrested or even killed at any moment.
Staying in Bhutan and fighting against the discrimination and oppression was no longer an option. There was no way to resist from within the country. Faced with this grim reality, Rizal fled to India. Traveling across different Indian states, he informed political leaders and well-wishers about the Bhutanese regime’s plan to strip the southern people of their linguistic, cultural rights, and ultimately their nationality. However, engaging in any political activities against the Bhutanese government from India was akin to striking one’s own foot with an axe. Many Indian advisors suggested that Nepal would be a safer place for Rizal to continue his work for Bhutan’s democratic movement. Following their advice, Rizal moved to Nepal.

If Rizal had been selfish and opportunistic, he could have stayed in Nepal and lived a prosperous and prestigious life. But he chose not to. Instead, he sacrificed his dreams of a luxurious and comfortable life for the sake of his people and his country. He had the courage to stand against the oppression, injustice, and atrocities committed by Bhutan’s autocratic regime. To fight for this cause, on July 9, 1989, he established an organization called the Human Rights Forum. Through this platform, he began raising his voice against human rights violations in Bhutan. However, it was Bhutanese citizens’ misfortune that even in Nepal, Rizal was not safe. The then-Nepalese government arrested him and, like a thief, secretly handed him over to Bhutan’s autocratic regime.

After Rizal’s extradition, Bhutan became even more fearful and paranoid. A crackdown began in southern Bhutan. Forty-four pro-democracy individuals were arrested and jailed, while forty-eight others managed to escape the country. Prior to this, history had never seen a political prisoner in Bhutan return home alive. Saving the lives of Rizal and the other forty-eight patriots who had been detained became the top priority. Therefore, Bhutanese activists outside the country pleaded with Indian experts for help. They temporarily sought refuge in a tea estate called Garganda near Ramjhora.
Experts from neighboring countries advised that, in Bhutan’s context, a democratic struggle was the only just and relevant path to liberation.

Following this advice, young activists established a political party called the Bhutan People’s Party (BPP) under the leadership of Raj Kumar budathoki. On June 2, 1990, the Bhutan People’s Party led demonstrations across all six districts of Bhutan, demanding human rights and democracy. They submitted a 13-point memorandum calling for the immediate release of political prisoners. Had they not launched this movement in time, none of the jailed detainees would have likely returned alive.

Even today, people argue—whether directly or indirectly—that Bhutan’s own state system was responsible for the 1990 uprising. Many firmly believe that if Rizal had not been extradited from Nepal or if Nepal had not handed him over to Bhutan, there would have been no mass arrests in Bhutan. No prisoners would have been killed in jail. More than four dozen civil servants, employees, teachers, students, and people seeking reform and progress would not have been forced to flee the country. The Bhutan People’s Party might never have been formed. There would have been no demonstrations or protests. A hundred thousand citizens would not have had to suffer the pain of displacement. And we would not have been forced to live under the daily fear of identity loss.

According to these critics, Bhutan and India were not the only culprits behind rendering thousands of Bhutanese stateless—Nepal played an even bigger role in this tragedy.
The sequence of events makes it clear that the Bhutanese king, in collusion with corrupt intermediaries, turned Rizal into an outcast—belonging to neither his homeland nor any other. And more recently, even in Nepal, an attempt was made to scapegoat Rizal by falsely implicating him in the fake refugee scandal.

Support the New Americans magazine to continue to serve our community with precise news that affects the new American, immigrant and refugee community. https://paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=8LHFS78NRNJJY&source=url