21 March 2025

Book Review on Karma Phuntsho’s The History of Bhutan

Bhutanese history has never been among the favorite subjects of students. The average Bhutanese tends to know more about the histories of other countries than about our own. The history taught in schools has largely been a collection of fragmented events of perceived importance, often glorified to the extent that they resemble fairy tales. What has been missing is a coherent narrative that connects these events and historical figures in a meaningful way.


It may be argued that the history taught in schools serves merely as a foundational introduction and cannot be expected to capture the full breadth and depth of Bhutanese history. However, even beyond school, those seeking to explore Bhutanese history further often find themselves frustrated by the lack of accessible, comprehensive sources.

Dr. Karma Phuntsho’s The History of Bhutan answers this long-standing need for a well-researched, cohesive account of our past. It not only provides a superior alternative to the limited historical sources we have relied on—many of which were ironically documented by Indian or Western historians—but also offers an unbiased perspective grounded in rigorous research.

Spanning 599 pages, the book covers Bhutanese history from prehistoric times to the modern era, passing through a richly detailed medieval period. For the first time, Bhutanese history is presented in a manner that feels authentic and compelling without the embellishments of myth and legend.

This book may challenge some of us who have taken pride in the more mythical versions of our history, where our ancestors seemed almost superhuman and infallible. But learning about historical figures with their human flaws, and seeing how they overcame obstacles despite these imperfections, only deepens our appreciation for their achievements.

For instance, I grew up hearing rumors of Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal’s assassination, yet I remained confused about how he could have been assassinated when he had voluntarily entered permanent retreat in Punakha Dzong. This book clarifies the complexities surrounding Zhabdrung’s succession, detailing the controversies over incarnations that followed his passing. The political maneuvering around multiple claimants to his legacy eventually paved the way for the era of lay rulers. It was only through reading this book that I realized the stories I had heard were about different incarnations and not about the great Zhabdrung himself.

The book vividly recounts the intrigues, conspiracies, rebellions, and assassinations that shaped Bhutan’s internal conflicts, making our history as thrilling as any political drama. Similarly, the accounts of Bhutan’s wars with Tibet and later with British India offer a more nuanced perspective than the simplified narratives of effortless victories that we grew up hearing. Instead, the book shows the immense struggles our leaders endured to defend Bhutan’s sovereignty. It sheds light on how, from the Treaty of Sinchula onward, our leaders skillfully negotiated diplomatic pathways to ensure Bhutan’s independence. The careful wording of these treaties ultimately played a crucial role in preserving Bhutan’s sovereignty, even as over 500 princely states were absorbed into the Republic of India, including Sikkim in 1975.

Many of us believe that stability was firmly established after the rise of Jigme Namgyal, and even more so after the enthronement of Gongsar Ugyen Wangchuk as Bhutan’s first king in 1907. However, this book reveals the immense struggles involved in consolidating power and maintaining stability. Even during the reign of the second king, Jigme Wangchuk, internal power struggles persisted. The book offers invaluable insights into the changing political landscape, both internal and external, during the successive reigns of Bhutan’s monarchs. Beyond the lists of developmental milestones found in school textbooks, The History of Bhutan gives us a deeper understanding of the political acumen and steadfast leadership that shaped the nation we have today.

Without reading this book, no Bhutanese can truly separate myth and legend from historical fact, nor fully grasp the depth of our history and the resilience that has allowed Bhutan to remain the last surviving Himalayan kingdom between two of the world’s largest nations.

If so many historical sources were available, why did it take so long for such a comprehensive history to emerge? The answer lies in Dr. Karma Phuntsho’s unique strengths. His deep grounding in Buddhist scholarship, with mastery over Chödkey, gave him access to historical records embedded in religious texts, while his experience as an academic researcher at Oxford allowed him to access and analyze Bhutanese records archived in British libraries. These combined skills enabled him to bring forth a historical narrative that had remained largely inaccessible to Bhutanese readers.

Dr Karma Phuntsho at the launch of my book, Passu Diary in 2018

Dr. Karma Phuntsho’s The History of Bhutan is not just a book—it is a monumental contribution to our national identity. It offers us a rare chance to reconnect with our past, not through myths and glorified tales, but through a well-documented, truthful account of how Bhutan came to be what it is today. Every Bhutanese who wishes to understand our history beyond the fairy tales must read this book.

Chablop: A Title, Blessing and Message

 At the 2016 World Toilet Summit in East Malaysia, heads of toilet associations of different countries took to the stage and shared great stories about their works and achievements. The scale of their work and the technologies they used were incredible, but one tragic twist in all their stories was the lack of support from the leadership of their countries. They were yet to convince their leaders of the significance of what they were doing. They were fighting to get their leaders’ attention to their cause.

I was to speak in the afternoon of the second day of the summit. By then, people had heard enough toilet stories to have any more appetite, let alone from an underdog of a small country. Attending the summit for the first time, the afternoon slot was the best I could get, which was seemingly the time when the hall gradually became empty.

I projected the photograph of His Majesty the King and me, which mirrored on some seven giant screens across the gigantic hall, and told them stories of how I have the blessings of my King in what I do. When I told them that His Majesty the King not only recognized my work but also bestowed upon me a new title of Toilet Teacher, I heard the loudest round of applause in that hall that boring afternoon. That made me the only country representative at the summit who, with a little guilt of having to contradict the rest in the house, spoke proudly about having the support of the King of his country.

The crowd wouldn’t be able to comprehend if I told them that the very idea of such initiatives was inspired by the King himself, who in his national addresses subtly sowed the seeds in the minds of his people.

In 2015, during the Royal Bhutan Flower Exhibition in Paro, His Majesty said, “Where we live must be clean, safe, organized, and beautiful, for national pride, national integrity, and for our bright future. This too is nation-building.” I was then experimenting with Bhutan Toilet Org as an online campaign, and that royal message seemed to me like a personal command. I immediately began working on making toilets across the country ‘clean, safe, organized, and beautiful,’ and that was the turning point.

When His Majesty summoned me during the 2016 Paro Tshechu, where I was managing the public toilet along with a team of over sixty young people, I was least expecting it. I still have a vivid memory of that auspicious moment. Dasho Zimpon made me wait on the bridge. I was the only person kept on the bridge, and the next person I would see was His Majesty. I could see thousands of people on both ends of the bridge waiting to get a glimpse of His Majesty, and here I was waiting to meet my King face to face.

Then came the moment. I couldn’t look up directly, but I could make out from the approaching radiance that His Majesty had come. I bowed down to pay my respects and froze back to stillness. His Majesty congratulated me on the clean toilet facility we had arranged for the public at the Tshechu ground. For the King to know about the condition of the public toilet at a local festival was enthralling.

I had crossed that bridge a thousand times in my life, but even in my most beautiful dream, I hadn’t seen myself walking with the King and talking about toilets. The bridge seemed too short that day. At the other end of the bridge, His Majesty stopped and shared very personal stories of toilet issues in our country and how things are in other countries. I pledged my commitment and resolve to work for the cause till the end, and it was perhaps then that I truly felt the gravity of the responsibility. With the blessing of the King himself, everything suddenly seemed so possible.

To make this precious moment live with me forever, His Majesty put his left arm around my shoulder and granted a Kupar, with special permission to share it on social media. He knew I would need this to remain motivated each day, to rise above the social stigma, and to influence people to support me. The photograph that was released that evening worked its first magic on my mother, who was, until then, upset at me for leaving my job and going around cleaning public toilets.

Before I could fully absorb the glory of this moment, I heard my name in His Majesty’s address at the closing ceremony of the second flower exhibition at Ugyen Pelri Palace ground. It didn’t feel real until someone pushed me right in front to face His Majesty. In a dream-like state, I could hear His Majesty: “Passang used to be a teacher. He resigned to take up the task of providing clean toilets to people… and I have been thinking of giving him a name… I should call him Chablop.”

For the King to bestow me a name in public carried profound significance. I knew it wasn’t for what I had done but for what I must do. The title was to be attached to my name to remind me each day to work toward truly deserving and honoring it.

Since then, Bhutan Toilet Org has grown into one of the most effective civil society organizations that has started a toilet revolution in the country, as envisioned and guided by His Majesty the King.

And in 2024, after eight years of unwavering service, I finally felt deserving of the title that was bestowed upon me. I officially changed my name to Chablop Passu, embracing not just the honor but also the responsibility that comes with it. His Majesty’s blessing was not only a profound personal gift but also a message to the people of Bhutan—when the King places his trust in someone, it is a call for everyone to show their support.