Brown and the Dalia Lama: Cowardice v. Pacifism

The Dalai Lama will be visiting London. I’d imagine he won’t get the same rapturous reception afforded to the likes of Nicholas Sarkozy. Or, indeed, the cast of Sex and the City. But then again, why would he? The spiritual leader of a country under the tyrannical rule of a pseudo-Stalinist state should be lower on the national priority list than a film about shoes.

Still, at least the Dalai Lama will have the (extremely dubious) pleasure of meeting Gordon Brown. Not in Downing Street, though:

Prime Minister Gordon Brown will not receive him at 10 Downing Street but is due to meet him with the Archbishop of Canterbury at Lambeth Palace on Friday.

At this point, the refusal of Gordon to have the Dalai Lama in Downing Street should come as a surprise to precisely no-one. Brown has all the spine of a jellyfish with a broken back. The fact that he writes books about courage should now be seen as a cross between deeply ironic self-awareness and wishful thinking. Courage, for Gordon Brown, is something that happens to other people.

Still, I would love to be a fly on the wall at that meeting. Seriously, it would be pretty fucking special. Just imagine, the Dalai Lama, smiling peacefully at Brown at the same time as feeling a quiet, controlled anger at the man who bends over for the Chinese government at every opportunity. Imagine him leaning forward, looking directly in Brown’s haggard, bloodshot eyes and saying “So, about that Olympic torch…”

Then imagine the terrible feelings of embarrassment and shame that well up within Gordon Brown; feelings that make him retreat further into his coarse, bitter and broken self. And imagine how Brown would start to squirm and fidget as he realises that he is about to be bitch slapped by the world’s most famous pacifist.

Magic.