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Since 1648, when the Treaty of Westphalia birthed the modern nation-state, security has worn a uniform and a mustache built on borders, battles and men in command. This legacy still decides who gets to protect the nation and whose voices are heard in matters of security. In response to these limitations, what if we asked a different question: Whose security are we referring to, and at what cost?

Feminist Security Studies (FSS) challenges this traditional view, urging us to think beyond state power and military might. It draws attention to everyday threats facing communities, especially women, and calls for a broader, human-centric understanding of security. Nepal’s security history, like much of the world’s, has largely highlighted male figures. Yet women, too, have long stood guard. As early as the 18th century, Queen Rajendra Rajya Laxmi Devi, who served as regent from 1777 to 1785, led crucial military and political campaigns that helped annex principalities such as Lamjung, Kaski, and Tanahun, playing a pivotal role in the early stages of Nepal’s unification. In the 19th century, women resisted during the Nalapani War of 1814–16, Chaitamaya Dangol became Nepal’s first female police constable in 1951, and thousands more took up arms or advocated for peace during the insurgency. 

Clearly, Nepali women have long been an integral part of the nation’s security fabric. Today, Nepal contributes significantly to UN peacekeeping missions, with over 6,800 female peacekeepers deployed since 1958. However, few women influence national security policymaking, revealing a persistent gap. Nepali women uphold international peace in UN blue, yet their impact on Nepal’s own security policies remains minimal. This selective inclusion raises urgent questions: Whose security is prioritized? What threats are recognized? Who defines security expertise?

In 2011, Nepal became the first South Asian country to adopt a National Action Plan (NAP) on UNSCR 1325 and 1820; policy frameworks aimed at advancing the Women, Peace, and Security agenda in the aftermath of the 1996–2006 armed conflict. The NAP aimed to ensure women's  protection and participation in peacebuilding and recovery. But more than a decade later, the  Women, Peace and Security agenda promise remains largely unfulfilled. Implementation has been piecemeal, reliant on donor funding, scattered workshops and lacking institutional ownership or political will. Government agencies failed to allocate dedicated budgets, and key officials remained unaware of its goals. 

Meanwhile, the UN, which authored the resolutions, stepped back. UNMIN, for example, framed implementation as solely Nepal’s responsibility. This hands-off approach reflects a broader issue: global institutions like the UN often rely on state-led mechanisms without addressing the structural limitations that prevent local transformation. Without genuine commitment, such frameworks risk becoming symbolic paperwork, disconnected from the realities they were meant to change. 

To understand why these commitments fail to take root, we must confront the structural and cultural norms that continue to exclude women from the security arena. Traditional beliefs, some dating back centuries, still influence modern security discourse. Ancient texts like Chanakya Niti Darpan depict women as vulnerable outside familial protection, reinforcing hierarchies that prize obedience over autonomy. These views, cloaked in tradition, persist in institutions today, shaping how we define threats and whose lives matter.

This exclusion has real costs. Research shows male-dominated security structures often overlook non-traditional threats like sexual violence, food insecurity and displacement issues that disproportionately impact women. In Nepal, security continues to be narrowly defined through militarized lenses, sidelining the human security concerns women are uniquely positioned to raise.

Feminist scholars have long critiqued traditional frameworks for being masculinized and blind to women's lived experiences. As Swati Parashar and Carol Cohn argue, this narrow lens misses vital issues like sexual violence, displacement and economic insecurity. The World Bank reports that 104 countries restrict women from certain jobs, 59 lack laws against workplace harassment and 37 offer no protections for pregnant workers. These legal gaps highlight how institutional discrimination fosters everyday insecurity for women, in both conflict and peacetime.

In conflict zones, the failures are even starker. Women often endure a continuum of violence, including sexual assault used as a weapon of war. Yet these threats remain largely invisible in dominant security narratives. Gendered power dynamics aren’t just in policy, they are embedded in institutional cultures, limiting women's leadership and participation. This exclusion not only reinforces injustice, but also weakens peacebuilding outcomes. To address these limitations, some governments have embraced a Feminist Foreign Policy, a practical approach embedding gender equality in diplomacy and defense. Nordic countries offer successful models. 

Sweden, the first to formally launch such a policy in 2014, integrated gender considerations into diplomacy, aid and defense. The 2023 Women, Peace and Security Index ranks Norway, Finland, Iceland, and Sweden among the top nations for gender-inclusive security outcomes.

This global trend raises a transformative question: What if women shaped security? Security might then prioritize peace through dialogue instead of dominance. Women are proven peacebuilders, negotiators and connectors. According to  UN Women,  peace agreements are 35 percent more likely to last 15 years when women are involved. Their communication and relational skills make them effective in conflict resolution, trust-building and community engagement. Research from Namibia, Rwanda and South Africa shows female peacekeepers are seen as less intimidating and more community-oriented. Surveys confirm that women’s participation in the security sector is associated with fewer misconduct complaints and more effective conflict resolution. Such outcomes are not anecdotal; they are measurable. Women’s presence in the security sector is consistently associated with enhanced public trust and reduced abuse. 

Today’s threats range from wars and cyberterrorism to the risk of nuclear proliferation by non-state actors. In such a world, gender-inclusive security policies are not just ideal, they are essential. We must redefine ‘security expertise’ to include emotional intelligence, empathy and collaborative leadership. Integrating women’s perspectives brings deeper insight into root causes of instability and helps shift from tokenism to transformation.

Investing in tailored training, mentorship and leadership pipelines for women in peacebuilding, security and disarmament is essential. Equally crucial is breaking down silos: Nepal’s Ministry of Home Affairs, security agencies, civil society, academia and UN peacekeeping must collaborate to develop gender-sensitive strategies for resilience and justice. Also, policy must evolve. A gender lens should not just count how many women are present but question why so few rise in rank, and what systemic barriers persist. From societal bias to institutional discrimination, cultural shifts are needed along with the full implementation of standards like the UN’s zero-tolerance policy on sexual exploitation. Gender analysis must become a norm, not an afterthought. Security impacts people differently; ignoring this means missing half the picture. Intersectional approaches must guide reform so that security becomes not a fortress to defend, but a community to care for.

True transformation demands more than surface-level inclusion. It requires shifting power, rethinking protection and viewing peace as a participatory process rooted in dignity and justice. Women must be recognized not just as beneficiaries, but as experts and leaders in the security domain. When we broaden the definition of who shapes security, we create more resilient, inclusive solutions that reflect both the complexity of today’s threats and the humanity of those most affected.

The predicament of Bhutanese political prisoners raises profound questions about human dignity and the international community’s role in safeguarding human rights.What could be the primary need of these political prisoners: Food, clothing, shelter, or their very identity? How might people feel when they have no home to claim in the entire world? How would they feel when, after spending years in prison as criminals in their own country, they find they have no family to connect with and no place to call home? How might they feel upon discovering they have lost their family members while in prison, leaving them with no one to call their own? 

This is the reality of political prisoners in Bhutan.

Bhutan has declared itself the happiest nation on Earth on the basis of its Gross National Happiness index (GNH). What an irony: On the one hand, it has forcibly removed and is still expelling its political prisoners, while on the other, it uses GNH as a soft power to obscure its country's violations of human rights. Bhutan's 1992 National Security Act (NSA), which replaced the 1957 statute, is used to hold a large number of political prisoners. The Chamgang jail, for example, is intended to house political prisoners in accordance with Bhutan’s 2009 Jail Act. The political detainees, however, have been found in Rabuna and there may be more, as the Bhutanese government does not disclose the number of political prisoners.

Bhutan’s nation-building efforts in the late 1980s and early 1990s were dominated politically by the Buddhist ethnic majority, who enacted policies that disadvantaged the country’s largest minority, the Nepali-speaking Hindus. Accusing nonviolent political and anti-discrimination campaigners of violating national security laws, Bhutanese courts imposed lengthy sentences on them. Many of the defendants in these cases, which date back to when Bhutan changed from an absolute to a constitutional monarchy in 2008, are currently serving lengthy prison terms, some of which are life sentences. While some political prisoners have received amnesty, a large number are still behind bars and the number is unknown. Those who are freed confront enormous obstacles: They are driven into exile and are unable to reintegrate into their country; they have experienced physical and psychological anguish; they are also devoid of identity and possessions.
Among these political prisoners are Madhukar Magar, Ram Bahadur Rai and Man Bahadur Khaling Rai, who, after years in Bhutanese prisons, were released and entered Nepal via Mechipul after being left at the Indian border (Jaigaon). The Indian administration has facilitated Bhutan by transporting refugees to the eastern Nepal border. This situation aggravates the plight of these political prisoners, as Bhutan’s expulsion and denial of their citizenship contravenes Article 15 of the 1948 Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which states, “Everyone has the right to a nationality”.

Bhutan is subject to customary international human rights law, as embodied in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, even though it is not a party to either the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights or the Convention against Torture and Other Cruel, Inhuman, or Degrading Treatment or Punishment. However, political prisoners were and are still forcibly removed from their homes, subjected to cruel trials, and tortured. So, is this the problem with the UDHR's non-binding nature? Or perhaps they ought to have been granted the rights in accordance with CIL?

From an early age, we are taught that human rights are universal, inalienable, and equal, inherent by virtue of our humanity. So why are Bhutanese political prisoners denied these rights? Is there a flaw in our understanding of human rights, or are they merely a constructive narrative? Why can't universally acknowledged human rights protect Bhutanese political prisoners, and who is responsible for their protection (R2P)?

When a state fails to safeguard its citizens, the international community is obligated by paragraph 139 of the Responsibility to Protect(R2P) to interfere through diplomatic and other peaceful measures. The United Nations, Freedom House, and Human Rights Watch have been exposing and denouncing Bhutan's abuses of human rights for years and the world is also aware of Bhutan's practice of forcibly transforming its Lhotsampa residents into illegal migrants and banishing them. Nepal has been housing hundreds of Bhutanese refugees for humanitarian reasons, as the nation is not a signatory to the Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees. Through the collaboration of UNHCR, IOM, and other agencies, over 100,000 refugees were resettled in the United States, Australia, the United Kingdom, and Europe. Roughly 7,000 refugees have remained in Nepal, notwithstanding the resettlement project.

The question of who will defend their rights  remains unanswered. According to the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, the ICC only has jurisdiction over offenses committed after July 1, 2002. Bhutan is not a party to the Rome Statute, and the human rights abuses took place prior to the Court's current purview. Cases involving refugees, who have been living in exile for extended periods of time—such as the Bhutanese—would not qualify. Comparably, only a state party can file a case at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) as the ICJ lacks personal jurisdiction, is unable to provide legal counsel and is unable to represent persons in court. 

Over the years, support for the Bhutanese refugees from international organizations like the ICRC, UNHCR has diminished. Despite the transition to democracy, the government of Bhutan still does not recognize the refugees as citizens and refuses to repatriate them.  The pursuit of justice in a domestic setting is impossible due to Bhutan's legal framework and its continuous reluctances. The international community must do every bit to secure the rights of Bhutanese political prisoners, who remain among the most exploited and forgotten victims of human rights violations.