Why Bhutan's 'hardline
vegetarian right' wants everyone in the country to stop eating
meat
Sarah Reid The
Independent Travel
Choosing what to eat while on holiday in the
Himalayan Kingdom can feel intensely political
Bhutan takes Buddhism so seriously that no
animals are allowed to be slaughtered for consumption within the
country Getty
It is purported to be the happiest country in
the world, but if there is one subject guaranteed to flare tensions
in the Buddhist Kingdom of Bhutan, it’s meat.
“It is okay because the animal was not killed
in Bhutan,” explains my guide Kinley, when I question whether it is
socially acceptable for us to be sitting down to a chicken curry in
a country where butchering animals for consumption is outright
banned. This reasoning might seem bizarre, but it goes a long way
to explain the complex issues surrounding the consumption of meat
in Bhutan.
Buddhism teaches that it is wrong to kill
animals, which are seen to be part of the divine creation. But
while this teaching is not taken particularly seriously in other
Buddhist majority countries outside monastic circles, it is law in
Bhutan, where Buddhist leaders enjoy an influential voice in public
policy.
Problem is, most Bhutanese – even many monks –
enjoy eating meat. So much, in fact, that Bhutan is the highest
consumer of meat per capita in South Asia. As it is not illegal to
consume meat in Bhutan, it’s all imported. Yet Bhutan’s meat-eating
community is increasingly under threat from the wrath of the
nation’s “vegetarian right” – a growing movement led by religious
figures that are calling for sanctions on the importation,
sale and consumption of meat on religious grounds, despite Buddha
himself well documented to have eaten meat.
This hardline approach jars a little in the
context of a country that measures its success not by economics,
but by a Gross National Happiness Index. And it’s true that during
my 10-day visit, I found Bhutanese people to be among the world’s
most welcoming. It’s easy to see why Bhutan has become such a
bucket list destination: the famous Tiger’s Nest monastery perched
on a misty mountaintop near Paro looks just as magical in the flesh
as it does in the pictures, and the phallus-emblazoned houses of
the Punakha district – an ode to a monk known as the Divine Madman
for his, er, unconventional methods of “enlightening” women – have
to be seen to be believed.
But if you like your meat, eating it does feel
a little more political here. I felt a bit put off consuming
anything non-veggie – despite my guide having no issue with
it.
To illustrate just how seriously the
vegetarian right takes the issue, in 2015, the announcement of
government plans to build a series of plants to process imported
meat (in an effort to control quality and hygiene) outraged them
enough that the Zhung Dratshang – Bhutan’s central monastic body –
ultimately called for the projects to be halted.
Last year, Bhutan’s Agriculture and Food
Regulatory Authority moved to appease religious leaders by
proposing a ban on the sale of meat during the holy first and
fourth Bhutanese months, with heavy penalties for commercial
vendors caught storing or selling meat during these sacred
periods.
Some towns, including all hotels in the
northern district of Bumthang, have since signed agreements among
themselves to stop storing or selling meat during the auspicious
months, while also agreeing to submit to surprise inspections from
vegetarian committees.
Imagine my surprise, then, when I spotted a
group of farmers slicing up a cow in broad daylight as my tour bus
bumped along a pretty country road en route to a rural homestay.
“The cow must have died of old age,” Kinley shrugged when I queried
what was going on. “They harvest the meat before it spoils.” Now,
I'm not a huge carnivore, but as someone who enjoys a juicy burger
now and then, I sympathise with anyone who has to wait for a cow to
die to enjoy a bit of steak.
In Bhutan, however, it is easy – for tourists,
at least – to go without meat. Never, except perhaps in southern
India, have I found it such a delight to “go vego” than I did here.
Tourist meals in Bhutan are typically served banquet-style, and
while there’s usually at least one meat dish, the vegetarian
options are the highlight.
The local red rice is as healthy as it is
deliciously nutty, fresh organic vegetables burst with flavour, and
the buckwheat momos (dumplings) served in Western Bhutan’s Haa
district are next-level good. It is said that a Bhutanese meal
isn’t complete without a serving of ema datshi or chilli cheese
(literally hot green chillies cooked with local cheese), and I
couldn’t resist sampling this eye-wateringly spicy dish at least
once a day. The key flavouring agent in Bhutanese cuisine, chilli,
poses a greater challenge for many tourists than the availability
of meat.
But that said, it has been a somewhat bland
culinary start to 2017 for locals in Bhutan. The government has
been forced to rethink a 2016 ban on the import of “toxic” chillies
from India that has seen the price of local chillies skyrocket.
Poor families without the land to grow their own have thus faced
flavourless mealtimes thanks to reduced access to their key source
for taste.
The challenges of maintaining a
self-sufficient chilli crop is just one of many hurdles Bhutan has
faced while ploughing ahead to become the world’s first wholly
organic country by 2020, an ambitious goal in an era when youth in
developing nations like Bhutan are more reluctant to follow in the
farming footsteps of their parents.
Despite its status as a poster child for
sustainable development, Bhutan has not been left untouched by the
effects of climate change either, with erratic weather over recent
years having left some farmers struggling to reap a viable harvest
without the use of chemicals.
While I thoroughly enjoyed being a
pseudo-vegetarian during my trip to Bhutan, I’m grateful my choice
to sink my chops into a juicy piece of meat sometimes isn’t under
threat from a hardline vegetarian sect. If Buddha was okay with
eating meat, surely Bhutan’s meat-lovers deserve a bit of
slack?