"Agent of Happiness" in cinemas | On Gross National Happiness in the Himalayas
Happiness is the moment of fulfillment, the balance between inside and outside. A fleeting moment, usually only of the individual's harmony with the world. A rare moment of heightened positive self-awareness. Therefore, it's best not to chase after happiness, because even the attempt to grasp it with a determined grasp is bound to elude it.
Should one even give happiness such a crucial place in life? Happiness is simply when nothing bad happens to you, when you still—somehow—live on. Or should one translate happiness as contentment? But content people are also unbearable, simply because there's a short distance between contentment and self-righteousness. So, forget about happiness and do what needs to be done? That certainly seems to me a better approach to avoid ultimately becoming completely dissatisfied with oneself. Anyone who just sits around and waits for happiness is guaranteed to miss it.
It seems interesting, then, that in Bhutan, located in the Himalayas between India and Tibet, which was completely cut off from the world until the 1990s (as the last country without television reception), happiness is the primary goal of the royal family's policies. State-imposed happiness? That sounds suspiciously like an ideology one cannot escape. But in Bhutan, they take it seriously, contrasting the gross domestic product with "gross national happiness" – and to determine this, dozens of representatives are dispatched every year to survey people, even in the most remote areas, about their living conditions using a questionnaire. The answers are then used to calculate the nationwide happiness index.
It almost sounds like a cult, but Buddhism has traditionally been open to such research. A nationwide legal code in Bhutan dating back to 1629 states: "If the government cannot create happiness for its people, then there is no reason for the government to exist." Sounds drastic – and in this spirit, the directing duo Arun Bhattarai and Dorottya Zurbó accompany two traveling auditors of happiness as they crisscross the country in their small car, armed with questionnaires. We see small villages, monasteries, and mountains, a picture-perfect landscape.
As the people openly talk about their lives, which – as expected – are quite difficult and not always joyful, we learn a surprising amount in the following 90 minutes about life in this region of the Himalayas, where people have opened themselves up to modern life on the one hand and uphold tradition on the other.
Barely a million people live in an area roughly the size of Switzerland. But there is also a Nepalese minority in Bhutan, which has no citizenship rights, no passport, and no permanent employment. This is a serious obstacle to happiness in Bhutan's constitutional monarchy.
Where else can you find a state in the 21st century that puts the happiness of its citizens at the center of its politics?
Amber, one of the "fortune agents" who travel from door to door, is the main character in this film—the first from the Nepalese minority to occupy such a prominent position in a Bhutanese film. He lives alone with his mother, who needs care, and hopes to marry one day—but without obtaining Bhutanese citizenship, he has no chance.
This gives this worthwhile road movie in search of happiness a melancholic undertone, which is comforting because it shows that even here, there is a right to be sad. We meet many people who are struggling to overcome their grief. There is Tshering, whose wife has died and who—in Buddhist tradition—is waiting for her to be reincarnated. Now he is holding a baby in his arms, his grandson, and is happy because he is convinced that this is how his wife has been reincarnated.
We even encounter a transgender performer in an entertainment district. Dechen feels alien in his body and dreams of one day being a beautiful young girl. His mother is suffering from cancer and his only support. "No matter what you are, you're a good person and beautiful anyway," his worldly-wise mother, who will soon leave him, tells him. And Amber, the happiness agent, also works through his questionnaire here: Does he own a donkey, a tractor, sheep, or chickens? No, none of those, but he does have a cell phone and a television.
A young girl caring for her alcoholic mother is also interviewed. There was at least one happy day, she says, the day her mother didn't drink. It goes on and on; nowhere here are we seeing those dangerous grimaces trained for permanent happiness, only people caught between duties and desires, always having to wait. The film finds those nuances that testify to a life in the Himalayas that is as difficult as it is beautiful. Biographies between the will to self-determination and the pressure to conform, like everywhere else, but here in a special way. One asks the camera in amazement: "Why was something as sad as me born in such a happy country?"
After all, now that happiness has been officially made Bhutan's central government theme, all the subjects of the enlightened king are asking themselves whether they are truly happy. How I feel is not a minor matter here; it concerns everyone. This is why a genuine discourse on happiness has emerged in Bhutan. People debate what is still missing for a happy existence. I should be happy, but strangely enough, I am not, or only very rarely! This is how people here begin to philosophize about their own existence.
Where else in the 21st century does one find a state that places the happiness of its citizens at the center of its politics? And if you take a look at Bhutan's "four pillars of gross national happiness," you'll certainly regret that this isn't a relevant issue for our government: 1. Promoting socially just social and economic development, 2. Preserving cultural values, 3. Protecting the environment, 4. Good government and administrative structures. That sounds like the platform of a socialist party you'd gladly vote for.
According to the latest survey, Bhutan's happiness index has officially risen from 90 to 93, which is considered good news. Whether this is true or not, the fact that Bhutanese people are supposed to (and want to) take their individual happiness so seriously is actually good news.
"Agent of Happiness," Bhutan 2024. Directed by Arun Bhattarai and Dorottya Zurbó. 94 minutes. Release: July 3.
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