Gross National Happiness

To understand the way Bhutan calculates its Gross National Happiness, we should recall the way we were marked and graded in our school and college days. In India, each subject was awarded a maximum of 100 marks, with 35 or 40 as a passing threshold.  Students received a distinction, first, second or third class as grades based on the sum of marks translated in a percent score. Instead of Bachelor of Arts or Science, imagine yourself appearing for a “Bachelor of Happiness” degree with the following nine subjects, all carrying equal weight.

1.       Psychological well being

2.      Health

3.      Time use

4.      Education

5.      Cultural diversity and resilience

6.      Good governance

7.      Community vitality

8.     Ecological diversity and resilience

9.      Living standards

Before describing each, let me explain the concept of thresholds.

Thresholds

The GNH index uses two kinds of thresholds or cut offs: Sufficiency thresholds and a happiness threshold.

Sufficiency thresholds are like passing marks. It asks ‘how much is enough to be happy’. For example, in Bhutan, an income of 1.5 times the poverty line income is considered sufficient for the earner to be happy. In affluent countries, a car and a bedroom of your own may be a sufficiency threshold. (Ownership of twenty cars and a house with fifty bedrooms may not result in exponential happiness. No matter how well you write an exam paper, you will never get more than 100%).  

The second cut off is the happiness threshold. It asks ‘how many domains or in what percentage of indicators must a person achieve sufficiency in order to be understood as happy?’ In other words, you will get your ‘Bachelor of happiness’ if you cross the sufficiency thresholds (receive pass marks) in at least 66% of the indicators. Why is GNH marked at 66%? Because the system is subjective, and people are diverse. For example, spirituality is one of the indicators. An atheist may discard it (not pass in that subject), but still be happy because he has achieved sufficiency in so many other indicators.

Each Bhutanese citizen is interviewed as part of the GNH survey. Based on his or her answers, a score is created. The person gets classified into one of four categories. Following are the results of Bhutan’s 2015 survey.

2015 GNH survey	Score range	% of Bhutanese
Deeply Happy	77%-100%	8.4%
Extensively Happy	66%-76%	35.0%
Narrowly Happy	50%-65%	47.9%
Unhappy	0%-49%	8.8%

Is Bhutan the happiest nation, because it invented GNH? Not at all, and the kingdom doesn’t claim to be. By quantifying happiness in detail, Bhutan can keep reshaping its politics and public policy in order to improve the score. The national index in 2015 was 0.756, an improvement over 0.743 in 2010.

Let me now briefly talk of the nine domains and the 33 indicators that are part of those domains.

Psychological well-being

Indicators: (a) Life satisfaction, (b) emotional balance (positive and negative emotions) and (c) spirituality.

Life satisfaction is a person’s self-assessment based on his health, occupation, family, standard of living and work-life balance, each measured on a scale of 1-5. The highest score is 25, whereas the sufficiency threshold is set at 19.

Compassion, generosity, forgiveness, contentment and calmness are the positive emotions, while selfishness, jealousy, anger, fear and worry are the negative or ‘disturbing’ emotions. Both are rated on a scale of 1 (never) to 5 (very much).

Spirituality is self assessed but also asks about the person’s view on karma, his engagement in prayers and meditation. This factor would be less relevant in places like Europe or USA.

Health

Indicators: (a) Self-reported health status (b) Number of healthy days (c) disability (d) mental health

Typically, a Bhutanese individual is said to be well only if heat and pain are absent from the body and sorrow is absent from the mind. The sufficiency threshold for healthy days has been set at 26 days a month. The mental health indicator consists of 12 questions that can decipher depression, anxiety as well as confidence and concentration levels of the respondent.

Health, in my view, is critical for happiness. I know of a couple of multi-millionaires each spending the last decade in a wheelchair constantly shuttling between home and hospital.

Time Use

Indicators: (a) Paid work (b) Unpaid work (c) Sleeping hours

Working hours under GNH include unpaid work such as childcare, household work and voluntary work. Eight hours a day is the legal limit. Those who work longer are identified as ‘time deprived’. Many Bhutanese women, and people in Eastern Bhutan suffer from time deprivation.

Eight hours’ sleep is considered necessary for a well-functioning body. Those sleeping short hours are ‘sleep deprived’.

Shortage of sleep due to overwork is a double whammy. It deprives a person of free time as well as sleep.

Education

Indicators: (a) Literacy (b) schooling (c) knowledge (d) value

The holistic approach values deep foundation in traditional knowledge, common values and skills. The primary task of education, formal or otherwise, is the creation of good human beings. That’s why the indicator includes the cultivation and transmission of values.

Reading/writing in one language and six years of schooling are sufficiency thresholds.

The five knowledge variables are interesting. Knowledge of (1) local legends and folk stories, (2) local festivals, (3) traditional songs, (4) HIV-AIDS transmission and (5) constitution.

In values, respondents are asked how justifiable the five destructive actions are: killing, stealing, lying, creating disharmony in relationships and sexual misconduct.

Cultural diversity and resilience

Indicators: (a) Speak native language (b) artisan skills (c) socio-cultural activities (d) Driglam Namzha (the way of harmony)

In Bhutan, the sufficiency threshold is very high for speaking the native language, since almost everyone is fluent in his/her mother tongue. (Not the case in elite or elitist India).

The 13 arts and crafts include weaving, embroidery, painting, carpentry, carving, sculpture, casting, blacksmithing, bamboo works, gold/silver- smithing, masonry, leather works and papermaking. (This is one indicator where I fail miserably).

Respondents are asked the number of days they participated in socio-cultural activities in the past 12 months. The sufficiency threshold is 6-12 days a year.

Driglam Namzha is the expected behaviour on formal occasions. For example, at Indian weddings, Indian women wear colourful, silk sarees. If respondents perceive this as important, they score higher. The assumption is that valuing traditions grows happiness.

Good Governance

Indicators: (a) Political participation (b) Fundamental rights (c) Service delivery (d) Government performance

Political participation is assessed based on your inclination to vote in the next election, and the frequency of your attending the community meetings.

Fundamental rights include freedom of speech and opinion, to vote, to form or join any political party, equal access to join public service, equal pay for work of equal value, non-discrimination based on race or gender.

Service delivery is measured by your access to the nearest health care centre, waste disposal method, access to electricity and clean water supply. If you dispose trash by composting/burning/ municipal garbage pickup, you are doing fine. If your answer is to dump in forests/dump in rivers, then you are deprived.

You assess your government’s efficiency by rating their performance in the last 12 months on seven objectives: employment, equality, education, health, anti-corruption, environment and culture. Each is rated on a scale of 1 to 5; the maximum value for this indicator is 35. A sufficiency threshold is set at 28; meaning a ‘good’ or ‘very good’ rating is needed in at least five objectives.

It is noteworthy that your method of waste disposal or your government’s performance affect not only the nation’s happiness but your individual happiness as well.

Community Vitality

Indicators: (a) Donating time and money (b) Community relationships (c) Family

GNH philosophy expects strong relationships among the community members and within families, socially constructive values, volunteering and donating time and money, and safety from violence and crime. These are considered fundamental to community development.

For donation, (1) donating 10% of your income and volunteering 3 days a year or (2) donating 20% of your income or (3) volunteering for more than 6 days a year are the sufficiency thresholds.

Community relationships are judged by your ‘sense of belonging’ and ‘trust in neighbours’.

For assessing safety, respondents are asked whether they have been a victim of crime in the past 12 months. The question requires a yes or no, and the threshold is set at “no”.

Ecological Diversity and Resilience

Indicators: (a) Wildlife damage (b) Urban issues (c) Environmental responsibility (d) Pollution

This domain explains why Bhutan doesn’t welcome tourists. Tourism can be a grand business for Bhutan, the GDP would grow dramatically, but the pollution would go up and wildlife may get damaged. Happiness will fall just as GDP grows. (Indian tourists are reluctantly allowed because India takes care of Bhutan’s defence. China swallowing Bhutan like it did with Tibet is an existential threat. Execution of that threat would turn Bhutan into a very unhappy nation, perhaps no longer a kingdom.).  

The Constitution of Bhutan expects every Bhutanese citizen “to contribute to the protection of the natural environment, conservation of the rich biodiversity of Bhutan and prevention of all forms of ecological degradation including noise, visual and physical pollution.” (Article 5)

The wildlife indicator asks for information on damage to crops.

Respondents are asked to report their worries on four urban issues: traffic congestion, inadequate green spaces, lack of pedestrian streets and urban sprawl. This indicator acts as a substitute for sustainable urban development.

Living Standards

Indicators: (a) Household income (b) Assets (c) Housing quality

This area refers to the material wellbeing of the Bhutanese people.

While we may think of a mobile phone, TV, computer, refrigerator or bicycle as assets, for many Bhutanese, livestock and farming land are the primary assets. Focus group discussions in rural districts concluded that five acres was the sufficiency threshold for a rural family of five people.

The quality of housing is composed of three indicators: the type of roofing, type of toilet and room ratio. Corrugated galvanised iron (CGI) or concrete brick or stone for roofing, pit latrine with septic tank for toilet and two persons per room are the thresholds and all three must be met.

Deeply happy

Having looked at the nine domains and the thirty-three indicators, let us look at the profile of the “Deeply Happy” people in Bhutan, 8.3% of the Bhutanese population. Two thirds of them are male, one third female. 70% live in rural areas, 30% in urban areas. 60% of them are aged 40 or less. 84% are married, and 12% are never married. (Meaning you are unlikely to be deeply happy if you are divorced, separated or widowed. If any of the three, please remarry as soon as possible for deep happiness). 

Of course, the Bhutanese GNH structure is not perfect. A creative person, despite meeting all other indicators, may be unhappy if he is not creating enough. Such instances don’t seem to be covered. However, What GNH does is to try to quantify happiness. In India, as children, we were told that happiness is a state of mind. Now fifty years later, I will dispute that. A terminally ill cancer patient in pain, a worker perennially harassed by his boss, a man wrongfully sent to jail, a chronically hungry person, a flying executive with no time to sleep are all people who can’t be happy. GNH, however subjective, tries to systematically measure happiness so that the individual and the nation can take steps to enhance it.

In a hypothetical survey to measure my own happiness, I found myself not reaching the threshold in artisan skills, not happy with the government performance, living in excessively damaged and polluted environment, and without assets worth talking about. On the other hand, I am doing fine with mental and physical health, time use, education, human interaction, donating time and money and fundamental freedoms. Overall, I score about 80% and can count myself as deeply happy. What about you?

Ravi

Further reading for those interested

(1)             http://www.grossnationalhappiness.com/SurveyFindings/Summaryof2015GNHIndex.pdf

This eight page summary offers the results of the GNH research of 2015.

(2)              http://www.oecd.org/site/ssfc2011/48920513.pdf

A 35-slide presentation by Sabina Alkire from Oxford University, made in 2011.

(3)              https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jf9xrnUjpI

a 12 minute film on GNH

(4)              http://www.earth.columbia.edu/sitefiles/file/Sachs%20Writing/2012/World%20Happiness%20Report.pdf

World happiness report. Excellent case study on Bhutan’s GNH between pages 108- 146. The primary source of this article.

(5)           http://www.bhutanstudies.org.bt/7th-international-conference-on-gnh-gnh-of-business-7-9-november-2017/

The dates for the next GNH conference in Bhutan next month.

(6)              http://www.grossnationalhappiness.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Short-GNH-Index-edited.pdf

Another 100-page authoritative guide.

(7)              http://worldhappiness.report/ed/2017/

The world happiness report inspired originally by Bhutan’s GNH is now produced annually. It is also holistic, but uses different indicators. In 2017, Norway is the happiest country, followed by Denmark, Iceland and Switzerland. The headlines include ‘Chinese people not happier than 25 years ago’, ‘Africa struggling’, and ‘happiness falling in America’. America, ranked 3^rd ten years ago, was 19^th  in 2016. India fell from 118^th to 122^nd position.

R. 

Land of the Thunder Dragon: Part IV

If the government cannot create happiness for its people, there is no purpose for the government to exist. – Legal code of Bhutan, 1729  

A day after meeting the queen, we visited Tashichho Dzong, a grand Buddhist monastery and fortress. It has some thirty temples inside. When a guard noticed we were walking all by ourselves, without a Bhutanese guide accompanying us, he was agitated.

‘Where is your guide?” he asked us.

“We don’t need a guide. We’re happy to just stroll around and see everything.” I said. I prefer to go around museums and temples without guides. Some of them are walking Wikipedia entries.  

“No, that’s not possible. They shouldn’t have let you in.” By now, a small group had gathered around us. I think they understood that an Indian couple with a small daughter didn’t pose a threat to the kingdom. But rules were rules. A policeman was assigned as an escort. He simply walked with us.

On the way out, a very fair Bhutanese lady began talking to us. She was part of the cultural ministry. She had earlier seen the commotion surrounding our guideless stroll. She apologised for the incident. Tashichho Dzong was not only a monastery complex; this is where the Bhutanese government and the king’s office are located. That’s the reason foreigners shouldn’t be wandering here independently.

Later, our discussion turned to the ‘Gross National Happiness’ (GNH), a concept Bhutan prefers over ‘Gross Domestic Product’ (GDP). Raised on the books of Ayn Rand, I began arguing with her. Unless you bring your people out of poverty, what is the point of telling them about happiness? I honestly thought GNH was simply a semantic gimmick invented by a kingdom to pacify its poor people.

‘No, we take GNH very seriously.’ The lady said. She began explaining the science and structure around it. This was the first time I had encountered a serious discussion about GNH.

‘Progress doesn’t necessarily mean happiness.’ She said at the end.

*****

Progress doesn’t necessarily mean happiness.

I believe in empirical evidence. What I see with my own eyes, feel and experience with my own senses is, for me, the best evidence to check any hypothesis.

Most of my school friends and I lived in apartments of 40-50 sq mtrs (400-500 sq ft) in which three generations cohabited. All meals were had sitting cross-legged on the floor. We slept on mattresses laid out on the floor. We squatted on floor-level Indian toilets, a morning yoga ritual in itself. The apartment had no beds, no dining tables, and no commodes. We had not heard the word ‘pizza’, not for the first twenty years of our life. Fruits and vegetables were only organic, because chemicals to inject them were not yet invented. This is how we lived for the first 20-25 years.

Later we evolved, we made progress. We improved our finances, bought dining tables and beds. We installed western toilets, making the posture comfortable. As a result of all that, our children are not as flexible as we were at their age. As children, we never looked at sugar or salt as enemies. Nobody consulted a nutritionist for advice on diet – I even doubt if there were nutritionists then. Now with our great culinary progress, we must watch our weight, cholesterol and sugar.

Until 1980, I didn’t have any kind of phone at my house; neither did most of my friends and relatives. We could land at each other’s houses any time. People were happy with the unexpected arrivals. The next couple of hours were spent in delightful chatter.

Later, phones arrived. First the landlines, then mobiles. Now we don’t go to anybody’s house without calling first. Visiting someone without calling may shock them. (Why has he come without calling? Bad news? Does he wish to borrow money from me? Doesn’t he know I’m busy?) And if we can talk to the person over the phone, why bother visiting? And if we can send a text, why bother calling? As a matter of protocol, we may grudgingly find time to attend someone’s funeral (why did he have to die on a working day?), but visiting him while he is alive is superfluous. 

Until 1972, Bombay didn’t have television. More than fifty children from my apartment complex met in the courtyard each evening and played a variety of games. We had no choice.

Then Bombay became more civilised. Television arrived. Later, incomes improved, and cars became affordable. Now that courtyard is exclusively a parking lot for cars. Children spend the evenings at home on their gadgets, while their parents watch TV.

I studied in my native language. My friends and relatives spoke exclusively in Indian languages. On the streets, you asked for an address in Hindi or Marathi. We listened to Indian music. We sang Indian songs. Girls wore Punjabi dresses or skirts. Their mothers wore sarees. Boys my age wore Khadi tops, carried cotton Indian satchels, and wore sandals or slippers.

Then we made progress. We became more cosmopolitan, more international. We took the best from the West. Now, our children’s first language is English. They sing the same songs that children in Europe or America sing. Irrespective of the gender, they wear t-shirts, shorts, jeans and Nike shoes. Parents pay obscene amounts of money for the kids to attend a ColdPlay concert in Bombay.

In my childhood, there were no water filters. No mineral water bottles. No plastic. Babies were kept clean by the wrapping of a triangular cotton cloth around their waist. Once it was dirtied, the cloth was changed and washed. Then we became civilised. Diapers appeared. Convenient for parents. The thick diapers, made thicker by the kids, are now added to the city’s garbage mountain.

I walked home from school on unpaved roads. Both sides of the roads were lined with trees. Saturday being a half day, school started earlier than usual. The mornings were cold - we always wore jackets or sweaters. And the north of Bombay was a jungle.

Then we began introducing civic amenities. Jungles were replaced by residential towers. As I write this, dozens of trees in my neighbourhood, trees planted in my great-grandfather’s time, are cut down to build a metro for the Bombay citizens. So they can travel to work speedily and comfortably. A tree is cut, and a billboard placed there. It says: “For Bombay’s bright future.”

Now the cars are air-conditioned. Homes and offices are air-conditioned. I avoid looking at the pollution index websites. Sweaters are no longer saleable in Bombay.

Affluence doesn’t necessarily mean happiness. 

When I lived in Russia, my happiness was inversely proportional to the size of the apartments I lived in. My last Moscow apartment had very high ceilings and the maximum cubic feet I have ever lived in. My first marriage came to an end in that flat. It may be a coincidence, but maybe not. The bigger the house, the more isolated each of its occupants becomes.

As we travel in cars instead of walking, we stop meeting people. That is another way affluence makes us isolated.  

During my corporate career, I woke up with an alarm every morning. It didn’t matter what time I went to bed. My alarm was set to make sure I reach the office at a certain time. For the last fifteen years, since leaving my career, there is no alarm in my life. I sleep until I wake up. My income is lost and my standard of living fallen dramatically. But I sleep well, and feel fresh and healthy through the day.

High standard of living doesn’t necessarily mean happiness. 

In my childhood, the base human emotions – selfishness, anger, jealousy, hatred, greed, lust- did not have public platforms.

Now the human race has made miraculous technological progress.

The Selfie has became a phenomenon. Teenagers with selfie sticks, endless poses and facial gestures, take much space on social media. The more social among them take group selfies.

Porno websites are continuously developed; porno channels are available in family hotels. Social media provides platforms to vent anger and hatred. Consumerism is the platform to check the jealousy index. Greed makes an illiterate play on the stock markets.

Negative emotions and self-love definitely existed fifty years ago, but were not so nakedly visible. Thanks to the technological progress; selfishness, anger, jealousy, hatred, greed, lust are out in the open.

Technological progress doesn’t necessarily result in greater happiness.

*****

Since my talk to the Bhutanese lady from the cultural ministry, I have read some literature on “Gross National Happiness.” Certainly since the time the fourth king pronounced this phrase way back in 1972, the concept has been systematically structured and developed.

GDP growth suggests an improved standard of living. Guns sold in America are part of their GDP. Other than the gun-makers and the congressmen they sponsor, I don’t think the expanding gun market brings happiness to anyone. If the Americans were to focus on national happiness, their public policy, politics and work ethic would take quite another shape. As the Bhutanese legal code said in 1729, if the government cannot create happiness for its people, why should it exist at all?

Bhutan’s GNH index has four pillars, 9 domains and 33 clustered indicators. It allows Bhutan to classify each of its citizens into deeply happy/extensively happy/narrowly happy and unhappy. I meant to describe that this week. But I began analyzing the relationship between progress and happiness and got carried away. Next week, I will explain the GNH concept in detail. You may then be able to check the level of your own happiness.

(To be continued)

Ravi  

Land of the Thunder Dragon: Part III

A day before meeting Ashi Kesang Choden, the queen grandmother, we decided to spend a few hours in the Thimpu shops. My 2009 diary tells me I bought a 30 $ yellow shirt for the occasion. We were meeting a queen of any sorts for the first time, and wished to look presentable.

Next day, on 1 May, the land cruiser punctually arrived at our hotel at 3.30. Bhutan has no traffic lights and no traffic jams, so it’s not difficult to be on time. We reached the palace at 3.45 and were met by a ‘welcome team’.

“I’ll take you to her majesty.” Said the head of the welcome team. I couldn’t help glancing at his face curiously as we began walking towards the palace. He looked so much like Chukie-om’s father whom we had met only two days ago. Bhutan is a small kingdom, and to a foreigner all locals may look similar, I thought. But at times like this, my curiosity overtakes my sense of protocol and propriety. As we entered the palace, I whispered to the man.

‘I’m sorry.... are you in any way related to the Dorjis... you know the one who was Bhutan’s ambassador to India, and whose father...’

‘Yes, I am Togbe’s brother. Togbe did foreign assignments; I have always served in the palace.’

Just as I realised that our escort was also the queen’s nephew, the queen herself walked in. Her dress was elegant enough to distinguish her from the Bhutanese woman working in the fields, but still fairly simple for a woman living in a palace. She wore a bluish jacket over her top, and a white pearl necklace that had no royal glitter. She shook hands and guided us to a sofa. She was soon joined by her daughter.

On the table was a book ‘the Devil’s Wind’ by Manohar Malgonkar, my wife’s uncle. The queen asked after his health. They had never met in person, but she had read most of his books, and had corresponded with him for years.

The Devil’s Wind is a historical novel about Nana Saheb Peshwa (Peshwa is translated as prime minister), an aristocrat and warrior in the Maratha empire. Ninety years before India gained independence, 1857 witnessed an Indian rebellion, its first war of independence to oust the British. Nana Saheb was one of its belligerent leaders. Merely 32 years old, he disappeared in the same year. He was rumoured to have fled to Nepal, but nothing was ever found out. ‘The Devil’s Wind’ is written as Nana Saheb’s autobiography. Though a novel, the in-depth research by Manohar Malgonkar has made the narration as historically authentic as possible.

The queen Ashi Kesang Choden asked us several questions about Nana Saheb Peshwa. She said the book and Nana Saheb’s life were fascinating. She wondered about the course history would have taken had Indians succeeded in that mutiny. (Had we known this is how our meeting would begin, I would have made the effort of reading the Devil’s wind before coming to Bhutan).

The queen was soft spoken, with a twinkle in her eye. Her memory, her ability to articulate her thoughts, her dignified composure belied her age. (She was 79 when we met her). The intellectual discussion reminded me of the readers’ club I attend every month. I gathered from the conversation that a queen may read the same book very differently than you or me. Historical novels such as the Devil’s wind may be entertaining for common readers. For a queen who reads; novels with revolts, political intrigue, assassinations and royal affairs are not merely entertaining. They offer utility and practical textbook lessons.

Meanwhile, we were served muffins, scones, English tea and Bhutanese snacks. The queen spoke to my daughter as a grandmother would. She became a hostess when enquiring if we liked what was served. She then became a tourist guide, and started telling us the places in Bhutan we should visit and why. She herself had founded many Dzongs (Buddhist religious social complexes). We were then given specially packed souvenirs that included Bhutanese honey and organic jams. The queen and her daughter came out to see us off. The escort team was waiting outside. We were treated as royal guests. In my mind, I thanked Mena’s uncle for writing all these great books.  

*****

In 2009, when we met the soft spoken Ashi Kesang Choden, I knew almost nothing about her. The history books I had read talked about the kings and the prime ministers, leaving the queen in the background. She had since become the queen mother, and with her son taking premature retirement, a queen grandmother. Years later, when I wished to write a short story set in Bhutan, I came across several pieces that talked about queen Ashi Kesang Choden’s role in Bhutan’s history.

At 21, she married Jigme Dorji Wangchuk, who became Bhutan’s third king the following year. Over the next decade, the couple had five children. In a parallel plot, the king had a Tibetan mistress, Yangki. From her he had four children, two sons and two daughters. Tibet was already taken over by China. So the affair was not only romantic but political. Probably because Yangki was a Tibetan, the king never solemnised his relations with her, nor offered legitimacy to her children. At best, she was understood as a Royal concubine and her children were royal bastards. Though without legitimacy, Yangki was a powerful woman. As mentioned previously, she and her Tibetan relatives were above the law.

The official queen, Ashi Kesang Choden, looked at the state of affairs helplessly and focused on raising her five children. In 1964, her older brother, the Prime Minister of Bhutan, was killed. The queen’s misfortune didn’t end here. A power struggle began, the hereditary prime ministership was abandoned. All surviving relatives of the murdered Prime Minister, the Dorjis, were sent into exile in 1965. Ashi Kesang Choden managed to escape exile only because she was the official queen. For the next nine years, her parents, siblings and their families lived in exile.

*****

The ailing king died in 1972. Yangki, the Tibetan concubine, wished to see her own son as the new king. Reportedly, she had moral and political support from Tibet.

The queen Ashi Kesang Choden took charge of the situation. She made her son the fourth king, though he was only 17. Reportedly, plots were hatched by Yangki’s family to blow away the new king and his family during the coronation. Anticipating this, the queen took great security precautions at the coronation.

Through her teenaged son’s formal powers, she began to exert authority over the administration and military. Yangki’s influence dwindled, and finally in 1974, she left for India saying her life was in danger. A few days after her leaving, the lofty Thimpu building across the Dechecholing palace in which Yangki lived her luxurious life mysteriously caught fire and was completely burnt to the ground. Till today, Yangki lives in exile in India, and her children live in the USA. The Tibetan threat hanging over Bhutan through the King’s concubinage died.

I don’t know the historical accuracy of those details. I am happy if the soft spoken woman we met had achieved her revenge through plotting and aggression. It’s possible she formulated strategies inspired by the historical novels she had so passionately read.

For the next ten years, the queen was the official host in Bhutan. During the 1970s and 1980s, she looked after foreign dignitaries and hosted banquets for guests of the fourth king.

*****

Ashi Kesang Choden’s role in the history of Bhutan doesn’t stop there. Here is one of the stories of her contribution to the kingdom.

Human Papilloma Virus (HPV) vaccines were developed in Australia, patented and approved by 2007. They protect women from two types of viruses that cause the greatest risk of cervical cancer. By 2009, it was approved in several European countries.

The reading queen, the Royal Grandmother, read about it in an Australian magazine. Cervical cancer was very common among Bhutanese women. The vaccine could save the lives of women across the kingdom.

The Royal Grandmother sent a special invitation to Mike and Lenore Wille, an Australian couple who were propagating the vaccine worldwide. She fished out an old copy of Australian women’s weekly that contained a recipe for Anzac biscuits, popular in Australia. She asked her cooking staff to bake the biscuits.

When the Australian couple landed at Paro, they were greeted by cars with flags, chauffeurs and guards. Soon they were at a palace sitting across the queen grandmother with the Anzac biscuits on the table. Bhutanese women were diagnosed with cervical cancer too late and were dying, she told them. The queen wanted each woman in the kingdom to be vaccinated.

The Australian couple were charmed. The Royal Grandmother’s gentle voice and determination impressed them. She wanted to be fair. Not only the capital, but all of Bhutan must be covered. As a result of her persuasion, and perseverance, Bhutan was selected as the first country where the vaccination program would be launched nationally. The executives of Merck & Co., the USA maker of the vaccines, didn’t know such a country existed. Finally, in 2010, the program was launched. The vaccines were carried on the backs of the donkeys to the more remote parts of Bhutan. In the first year, 99% of 12-year old girls, and 89% of 13-18 year old girls were covered.

Since 2008, Bhutan is a constitutional monarchy. It has a democratically elected government, responsible for issues such as vaccination. Despite that, the queen Ashi Kesang Choden, in her eighties, proved a catalyst for the national vaccination program.

(To be continued)

Ravi