Further to the imbroglio over Queen Elizabeth II not being invited to the “Franco-American” ceremonies marking the 65th Anniversary of the D-Day landings—it turns out that the French extended their invitation to Prime Minister Gordon Brown…who decided that he and he alone would represent Great Britain.
I can’t decide whether that decision marks the height of pettiness, hubris or utter stupidity, even for a pol. Probably all three and some other crap, besides.
Brown’s not been living the dream these past weeks. On his watch it was discovered that Members of Parliament have been hitting up the ratepayers for all sorts of dodgy expenses. Even though the pecadillos date back to long before he took over from Tony Blair, and even though MPs of all parties were dipping into public funds for yard work, non-existent mortgage payments and packets of crisps, he’s the one standing there looking like the village schmendrick, trying to decide where he might possibly find a high road to take, as his cabinet ministers are being forced to resign in disgrace.
So maybe he thought he could ride the wave of past glory and patriotism that the “big” anniversaries of things like D-Day or VE Day invoke in the collective memory. And he obviously didn’t want to share the stage with someone who far better represents that zeitgeist because she actually, you know, served in the war.
And also, she’s the, you know, head of state.
As it turns out, Gordo the Grifter would have been better off deferring to HM: he was booed by WWII British veterans, and then referred to the heroism 65 years ago at “Obama Beach.”
In the end, he grudgingly invited the Royals, and Prince Charles, God bless him, swallowed the insult and showed up and noblesse obliged. One thing those Royals do better than just about anybody is honour their military—you should go to a Remembrance Sunday service some time at the Cenotaph. The Queen Mum appeared practically until her death, and Charles’ generation take it every bit as seriously.
Whatever else you think about him, the man understands the concept of duty. I remember him at the ceremony transferring Hong Kong to the People’s Republic in 1997. He stood there in his uniform getting soaked by a torrential rain, just as stoic as a Roman centurion.
He had that look about him yesterday, as Brown strutted and stumbled like a third-rate vaudevillian.
The good news is that he probably won’t be around for the 70th Anniversary. Possibly not even for the 66th.
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