Two decades ago, Bhuwan Pyakurel was living as a marginalized individual in his own country. A member of the Lhotshampa community—ethnic Nepali Hindus in Bhutan—he was exiled due to his religious and cultural identity. The Bhutanese government, under the “One Nation, One People” doctrine led by the Buddhist monarchy, compelled Pyakurel and thousands of others to abandon their homes for refusing to conform. They ended up in refugee camps in Nepal, displaced from the land they once called home.
“They didn’t consider me as a human,” Pyakurel recalled. “They put me in a truck like an animal.”
In 2009, after enduring 18 years as a stateless refugee, Pyakurel and his family finally found hope. They were resettled in the United States through a third-country resettlement program operated by the UN Refugee Agency and the International Organization of Migration. Between 2008 and 2015, this program enabled roughly 80,000 Bhutanese refugees to start new lives in the U.S.
“Coming to this country and getting a citizenship was one of the best things ever I could experience in my life,” Pyakurel said. “The moment I put my feet in the United States, I started thinking, here I am free in a free land, and I can do whatever I want.”
During his citizenship ceremony in 2015, Pyakurel listened carefully when the judge stated that new Americans have both the right and duty to vote and even run for office. He took that encouragement to heart. In 2020, Pyakurel became the first Bhutanese-Nepali elected to public office in the U.S., serving on the city council in Ohio. He refers to the American dream as his “second chance.”
Yet that dream is slipping away for many in his community. Over recent months, numerous Bhutanese refugees have been deported under the Trump administration’s immigration policies. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) targeted those with criminal convictions, many dating back over a decade. Offenses ranged from minor theft to DUI and domestic abuse. In and around Harrisburg, Pennsylvania—a major center for Bhutanese refugees—ICE has detained over 60 individuals and deported at least 25.
These deportees have been sent back to Bhutan, the same country that exiled them. Some were reportedly redirected to Nepal or India. Advocates now warn these individuals are effectively stateless again, stripped of legal status and reduced to refugees once more.
“We were promised the rights, the freedom of this country,” said Robin Gurung, founder of Asian Refugees United in Harrisburg, which has a Bhutanese population of over 40,000. “To imagine that we will be deported back to the same country that persecuted us, it was never in our mind.”
Gurung himself is a former refugee and has been working tirelessly since March to assist families and raise awareness. Most of the deported are Hindu and had little to no warning, often being taken from their homes or jobs, with children answering the door. Families are still waiting to hear from their loved ones, who may have ended up in refugee camps back in Nepal, joining over 6,000 remaining Lhotshampa.
Although Gurung agrees that lawbreakers should be held accountable, he finds the deportations alarming. Even minor infractions now raise fears within the community, with people uncertain if old offenses or pending legal matters might result in sudden removal from the country. Many are now carrying documentation at all times.
“We are asking for accountability, transparency from the authorities,” Gurung insisted. “We don’t have clear evidence that they followed due process, we don’t know if the deportees were given enough time for the legal representation or were clearly informed about their deportation to Bhutan. And we don’t know if the U.S. government knows the fact that deporting these individuals to Bhutan means putting their lives at risk.”
To date, the Department of Homeland Security and other federal agencies have not offered any public explanation, nor did they respond to requests for comment.
The story of this community begins in the 1980s, when Bhutan’s King Jigme Singye Wangchuck began enforcing a national identity that erased ethnic differences. His “One Nation, One People” policy banned the Nepali language in schools, restructured Hindu temples to fit Buddhist aesthetics, and outlawed many Hindu customs. Citizenship laws became stricter in 1985, rendering longtime Lhotshampa residents illegal. Those who resisted were labeled traitors and expelled, ending up in makeshift bamboo shelters in Nepali refugee camps.
While President George Bush’s 2008 resettlement initiative offered hope, transition to American life wasn’t easy. The Bhutanese began anew, struggling with language barriers and unfamiliar systems. Many youths acted as translators for their parents, and the community experienced high levels of mental illness. NIH research revealed that suicide rates among Bhutanese refugees in the U.S. were nearly double the national average.
Khara Timsina, who leads the Bhutanese Community Association of Pittsburgh, noted that some individuals misused their newfound freedom. “There were some individuals who found that new freedom of alcoholism,” he said, pointing to a rise in crime, including domestic violence and DUI charges.
Over time, however, the community stabilized. Timsina said today’s youth aspire to careers in engineering, healthcare, and entrepreneurship. Programs by groups like BCAP and Asian Refugees United have improved mental health and community support. Still, those who committed early crimes and thought they had moved on with their lives now fear deportation.
“People had thought that even if they had a criminal conviction, they had finished their jail time, so the cases were closed,” said Timsina. “They were back to normal life, working and making their family lives better. But once we started understanding that even those people were picked up, there is fear among other people who have similar situations, like pending cases or legal charges.”
Pyakurel observed that the broader U.S. Hindu community, largely Indian, has remained largely indifferent. “More connection to the administration than ever in the past,” he said, citing one Hindu politician who remarked that criminals “deserved the punishment.” India’s initial refusal to provide aid to the displaced Lhotshampa has complicated matters further.
Despite this, Hinduism continues to offer strength. In places like Harrisburg and Galion, Ohio, Bhutanese Hindu temples have become community hubs where people engage in spiritual, cultural, and political discussions. They also provide Nepali language instruction, yoga, and music classes.
“The temple for our generation is a kind of therapy center,” said Prem Khanal, chair of the Organization for Hindu Religion and Culture in Harrisburg. “We go there, we meet our friends, we share our views and we dance and we sing hymns. And some of the older people who have been parted after leaving Nepal, sometimes they meet for the first time here in the temple after 15 or 20 years. They express their excitement in such a way that they shed tears.”
Narad Adhikari, founder of the Global Bhutanese Hindu Organization in Ohio, echoed similar sentiments. “We are all human beings, you know, and whether knowingly or not knowingly, some people make some mistakes,” he said. “It is our responsibility to take interest and learn from them as well. That way, our neighborhood, our nation, our society, our community, becomes stronger and more peaceful.”
Adhikari believes the greatest gift the Bhutanese refugees have brought to the U.S. is their faith. “Because we came as refugees, the majority of our population were not educated like the modern education here in the United States,” he said. “So what can we contribute to this country as the new citizens of America? We decided, yes, this is Hinduism.”