Long journey of an impish monk

At the time of our interview he was especially concerned about society’s over-emphasis on material things and the real danger of people losing real human values, “so the human being becomes part of a machine. A very sad thing,” he said, shaking his head. People could be poor but as long as they had a spirit of warm-heartedness they could be happy, he believed.

“If you lose warm-heartedness and kindness, despite the materialism (you may enjoy) you will not have a happy life. If you have compassion, thought or love, then you will not only get more happiness and mental peace, your friends and neighbours will be happier. In this way you affect the whole community or society.

“I tell people (of the) realisation of the oneness of all mankind. Humans are basically the same.” Different politics, races, systems, faiths and so on, were only secondary things. They were all meant to serve human benefit.

“Communism, Buddhism, capitalism, any ideology - what is the real purpose? The answer is the benefit of humanity. If you sacrifice human dignity in order to achieve an ideology or faith, that is wrong,” he said. “People get the impression that love, compassion and kindness is religious. This is not a religious matter - it is a matter of humanity, whether you believe it or not.”

He thought Tibetan Buddhism may not be suitable for the West, but if a religion created mental peace, it helped people face their problems.

His biographical notes encourage diversity: “I always believe that it is much better to have a variety of religions, a variety of philosophies, rather than one single religion or philosophy. This is necessary because of the different mental dispositions of each human being. Each religion has certain unique ideas or techniques, and learning about them can only enrich one’s own faith.”

A man of soft words but sharp intelligence, he has survived the distance from being an unknown god-king of a remote country, escape as a spiritual leader of a mediaeval feudal system, a refugee in a foreign land - to become one of the world’s most noted voices. That has called for a high degree of awareness, acumen and subtlety.

The Dalai Lama has wondered out loud whether his followers wish him to name his own successor rather than allow China to appoint one; and more recently, even whether there should be a successor at all.

The Dalai Lama enjoys a renowned international profile. It has been an extraordinary journey for a farmer’s son, born in a small, remote part of Tibet and later enclosed for years in a monastic life, to have come to be so at one with the world; so able to catch the ear of world leaders. Now in his 70s, he remains a smiling, amiable man, who, when asked an uncomfortable question, can still break into boyish laughter, even titters.

Some people hang on his every word; others revile him. He appears to toss off both extremes. For years he has quietly pursued his mission to promote Tibet, Buddhism, peace and the environment. The excesses of materialism and the self-interest of nations would still cause him deep concern. Over the years he has cut a solitary figure, an enigma with a sense of humour, a pilgrim walking the world with a message.