A Refugee Sent Back to Bhutan Becomes Stateless and Trapped

In Harrisburg, PA, on April 16, one can see both the Bhutanese and American flags waving together. This isn't the first instance where Nepali-speaking Bhutanese have grappled with identity and nationality issues. Back in the early 1990s, they were ostracized by the Bhutanese government as unlawful residents and either expelled or compelled to escape.

Whenever Ray manages to connect to the internet, his immediate urge is to reassure his wife of his temporary safety.

Ray, now in his late 20s, was born in a refugee settlement in Nepal. As a child, he relocated to the U.S. Recently, he was forcibly sent to Bhutan — a small kingdom in the Himalayas that he never lived in. His family had previously suffered discrimination there. Within a day of his arrival, Bhutanese officials demanded that he leave.

Currently, Ray finds refuge in India, lacking legal documentation, family support, or a passport. His survival is due to the kindness of a pastor who has taken him under his wing.

"I have nothing left here. It's absolute desperation," Ray expressed, preferring to be identified merely by his English first name to safeguard his safety and maintain the possibility of revisiting his deportation case.

For many years, Bhutan has resisted reaccepting Nepali-speaking Bhutanese like Ray. Yet, during President Trump’s tenure, more than 24 were deported despite Bhutanese rejections.

U.S. immigration policies are supposed to protect individuals from being deported to nations where they could face harm. Advocates claim these protections were largely neglected under the Trump administration, citing the detainment and attempted deportations without due regard for safety.

Even though these efforts resulted in several legal battles, the deportations to Bhutan persisted silently.

"We’ve heard ICE officers assure families verbally that Bhutan will accept them and that all will be well — but the reality has been the complete opposite," stated Aisa Villarosa, an attorney at the Asian Law Caucus, which has been closely monitoring these deportation cases.

A Historical Exodus from Bhutan

Many of the Nepali-speaking Bhutanese who became refugees are the descendants of Nepali laborers and farmers who migrated to southern Bhutan in the 1800s, with some tracing even deeper roots.

Initially, they coexisted peacefully in Bhutan. However, during the 1980s, the government initiated policies that undermined their ethnic and legal standing as part of a modernization and unification drive.

Protests arose, which occasionally turned into riots. The government's crackdown intensified, leading to numerous incarcerations, destruction of homes, and entire communities forced to abandon their homes, notes Michael Hutt, a Nepali and Himalayan studies expert based at the University of London's SOAS.

"Pearson arrested were told they could earn their freedom by signing a form agreeing to leave Bhutan, along with their families," Hutt explained.

Those who couldn't demonstrate official citizenship were compelled to exit. By the early 1990s, an estimated 100,000 people—a significant percentage of Bhutan's population—either fled or were expelled.

Seven refugee settlements were founded in eastern Nepal, aided by the UN refugee office. Yet, the refugees couldn’t legally work or obtain Nepalese citizenship, trapping them in uncertainty. U.S. resettlement initiatives began in 2008 and accepted the largest share — over 80,000 refugees.

An Abrupt Displacement

Ray had just turned 12 when he moved to the United States with his family, settling into life in the South. He was amazed by the diverse yet harmonious communities there.

During his last high school year, Ray, holding a green card at the time, followed his peers in a reckless act resulting in charges of felony theft and trespassing. He described it as his most regrettable decision. This momentary lapse led to a two-year probation period. Later, immigration authorities moved to deport him.

Ray spent a brief stint in ICE detention, but was released, possibly because of Bhutan's reluctance to accept deportees. In subsequent years, he started a family and worked various jobs.

However, one Sunday morning in March changed everything. ICE agents unexpectedly arrived at his home, taking him away without a moment to say a proper goodbye to his wife and two young children, still asleep at that time.

Few Find Their Way Back to Camps in Nepal

Upon landing in Bhutan, authorities stripped Ray of his phone and identification documents, and interrogated him about his familial background.

"They simply told us, 'You cannot stay here as your language and ours are different,'" Ray recounted.

Placed in a hotel for a night, Ray and others received orders the next day to vacate the country. Ray's pleas to stay and fight his deportation case in Bhutan were dismissed.

The Asian Law Caucus, collaborating with Asian Refugees United, kept communication lines open with the families of 27 deportees returned to Bhutan recently. These families shared consistent stories of loved ones being expelled almost immediately upon arrival. According to Villarosa from the Caucus, most families lost contact thereafter.

Four individuals managed to re-enter Nepal’s diminished refugee camps. Conditions there remain precarious. On-site offerings are limited, with most humanitarian and support agencies having withdrawn over time.

Last month, the Nepalese authorities declared that these returnees to the camps are not permitted to stay, imposing fines that must be paid until their departure.

A Community's Lingering Pain and Fear

Robin Gurung, who co-founded ARU in Pennsylvania, conveyed that sometime before the most recent deportations, the main issues amongst the Nepali-speaking Bhutanese were mental health concerns owing to previous refugee traumas. The new deportations amplified these problems.

"The fear revives the distress of our community, which has endured constant dislocation," Gurung asserted.

In Ohio, ARU member Bhadra Mishra highlighted the deportations' effect, rekindling existential questions.

"How long must we live in fear of being cast out again? When can we truly find peace?" she questioned.

In recent weeks, Mohan Karki, a Bhutanese refugee from Ohio, secured a temporary halt to his deportation, raising slight optimism among immigrant rights champions. Tika Basnet, his wife, hopes that the U.S., the only land they've called home, will finally acknowledge them.

"We've never belonged to Nepal or India," she declared. "There's no recognition of our identity."

In Ray's absence, his wife shoulders financial responsibilities alone, juggling extra shifts at a beauty store while tending to their kids and Ray's elderly parents. Their children believe their father is away on work.

"My wife and children are my drive to return," Ray emphasizes. "I can't stand the thought of my kids being raised without a parental figure."