Policy of happiness

As Southasia's politicians and bureaucrats get busy for the next SAARC Summit, and as the pundits of the region start conferring their predictions and comments, here is a humble question: Will our leaders ever be able to truly serve the interests of the people? Sitting in Thimphu, contemplating this vast region, it is difficult to see this happening. It is more likely that our region, home to a significant portion of humankind, will miss out on basic human priorities – for example, the opportunity to seek true contentment in life.

Back in 1961, Bhutan shed centuries of self-imposed isolation to begin the process of modernisation. The isolation was deliberate; the opening-up was inevitable. Stemming from the strong sense of vulnerability that is natural to all small societies, Bhutan had consciously hidden itself away in the folds of the Himalaya. The wisdom of hindsight tells us that this policy served the kingdom well. When the Bhutanese leadership eventually decided that it was time to join the rest of the world, there was much to be learnt from the human experience that the world called 'development'.

Southasia was a dramatic lesson for a kingdom taking its first tentative steps towards modernisation. Like the rest of the developing world, supported by international organisations including the UN and, later, the World Bank and International Monetary Fund, the goals set by governments were defined exclusively in terms of economic development. Human wellbeing was measured by projected growth in GDP and GNP indicators, which after four or five decades have proven to be a broken promise. Today we know that GDP, in itself, is not the issue, so long as it is understood as the path and not the goal of development. For many parts of Southasia, the problem was that, in the search for material wellbeing, countries had lost their environment, their cultures, their value systems. But the quality of life had not improved.

Higher goal
So it came about that, in 1979, a group of Indian journalists interviewed former king Jigme Singye Wangchuck at Bombay's airport, while he was returning from a Non-Aligned Movement (NAM) Summit in Havana. "We do not know anything about Bhutan," said one journalist. "What is your Gross National Product?" "We do not believe in Gross National Product," the king answered, "because Gross National Happiness is more important."

It made for an enchanting headline. Since then, Gross National Happiness (GNH) has gained depth as a philosophy, as an inspiration for development, and as a reminder that real human wellbeing cannot be measured by per-capita income alone. Three international conferences have been held till now on the topic of Gross National Happiness – in Canada, Thailand and Bhutan – and numerous seminars have taken place around the world. So far, however, there has been no interest shown in Southasia, where GNH, ironically, carries a tone of irrelevance.

What is GNH? If it is a national development goal, how can it be measured? How do you translate it from a philosophy into a policy for development programmes? These are a few of the challenges for implementing the policy of GNH. The thrill of that new car is what one Western philosopher called 'Disney-type' happiness. In that sense, GNH is not a promise of happiness. In fact, it is not even about happiness. All spiritual practices teach us that happiness lies within the self, after all; we look inside ourselves to seek happiness because there is no external source of happiness. In Bhutan, therefore, GNH is understood as a mandate of the state to create an environment in which citizens can pursue mental equanimity. What is important here is that this becomes a direct responsibility of the government. The GNH premise is that the right to pursue happiness already lies with the people, government is meant to serve the people, and hence it must deliver, not rob the people of this right.

In an attempt to translate GNH from an idealistic concept into a realistic guideline for development, one of the early initiatives taken by the Thimphu government was to identify four 'measurable' pillars of GNH: socio-economic development, preservation of cultural heritage, protection of the environment, and good governance. Socio-economic development is close to what has become the traditional notion of development, measured by the length of roads, number of schools and hospitals, and GDP, among other priorities. The preservation of culture requires that religious and cultural institutions be safeguarded, and Bhutan has enacted a number of laws to preserve traditional practices, such as architecture. The environment pillar is Bhutan's great boast. About 70 percent of Bhutan is currently under forest, and Parliament has passed legislation that a minimum of 60 percent must always be maintained as forestland. That is why the Royal Bengal Tiger is now roaming the Bhutanese mountains.

Coming to good governance, the king of Druk Yul decided that democracy was the best form of government for the people. Interestingly, the people disagreed. The average Bhutanese citizen's horizon remains Southasia, and it is a surprise that this citizen is intuitively suspicious of democracy. The reason, apart from the successful rule of the Wangchuck dynasty, was that the people saw elections as being characterised by violence, and elected governments as synonymous with corruption. Today, Bhutan is the world's youngest democracy. According to the former king Jigme Singye Wangchuck, democracy is not a goal but a path to good governance, which is translated as service to the people. Here lies the GNH perspective, which provides a very clear path forward. Bhutanese thinkers would hasten to point out that Bhutan is not preaching GNH. Indeed, Bhutan cannot even claim that it has achieved GNH. The idea is that Bhutan must keep trying.

GNH is not a new concept, but rather is the expression of the values that have sustained Druk society through the ages. As a responsibility of the government, these values and priorities must continue to be the basis for national policy and programmes. Expanding the four pillars of GNH into nine 'domains', an academic centre in Bhutan has conducted an extremely detailed GNH-inspired survey on the quality of life of the country's people. The survey breaks down a day in the life of the average citizen – the time he or she spends on meals, sleep, work, relaxation and spiritual practice. Indicators from this report are expected to influence priorities in development programmes, including for budget allocations.

Is all of this relevant to the rest of Southasia? Yes. Take the four pillars, not as a lesson from Bhutan, but as broad guidelines for development and change. For now, each of these areas resounds with echoes of disasters more than successes. When Southasians talk about the rich culture and natural heritage of this region, we are of course reminiscing about the past. As for the present, the region does boast many billionaires, but we also have more people living below the poverty line than anywhere else. When it comes to good governance, the less said the better. Above all, Southasia desperately needs to understand that human development must have a higher goal.

~ Kinley Dorji is editor-in-chief of Kuensel, Bhutan´s national newspaper.