He also admired Bush for a quite different reason: decisive leadership. Of all the leaders he met, he rated Bush among the highest for this, and for integrity, as well as courage. In his memoir he describes Bush on a number of occasions, and it seems to me he got the man exactly right. He found the hostility to Bush he came across in his party incomprehensible, based on gut reaction which defied rational analysis. His liking, even affection, for Bush was fully returned, as I can testify.

Indeed it is a curious fact that Blair, that mysterious figure, emerges most clearly in his reasons for liking particular people. And it is particularly revealing when his liking is grudging. A case in point is Princess Anne. When the Blairs first stayed at Balmoral she called Cherie "Mrs Blair". This brought out the inevitable "Please call me Cherie", which in turn brought out "Actually, I prefer Mrs Blair." Of course, the Princess had no intention of allowing a Prime Minister's wife to call her "Anne", which would be the inevitable outcome of familiarity, though Blair is too good-mannered to say so. He says: "I always liked [Anne]. I doubt the feeling was mutual, or perhaps more accurately she was indifferent."

She is a chip right off the old man's block. People think Prince Philip doesn't give a damn what people think of him, and they are right: he doesn't. Anne is exactly the same. She is what she is, and if you don't like it you can clear off. It is not a quality I have, but I admire those who do.

Blair feels the same, ceteris paribus, about Rupert Murdoch, and one of the most touching things to emerge from this memoir is Blair's half-formulated desire to be much more ruthless, at a personal level, than he is. But it is beyond him. One cannot see him, like Lloyd George, snarling at a colleague: "I want him dead chicken by midnight" or, like Churchill, marching up and down the Cabinet room, saying aloud to himself, "I want them all to feel my power." The various criticisms he makes of the awful Gordon Brown add up to a devastating indictment, but he cannot refrain from putting in bits about Brown's brilliance, sincerity, idealism etc. In an earlier age, Blair would have found it impossible to sign a death warrant. He is the smiler without the knife. 

But this may turn out to be a blessing. Blair's journey, as he calls it, is not over yet. He is still youngish, vigorous, healthy, unbroken in spirit, and optimistic. He has not made the mistake of imprisoning himself in that whited sepulchre the House of Lords, or that eunuch's harem the Brussels bureaucracy. The British political system is moving into uncharted waters. If, as I suspect, both the Liberal Democrats and the Labour Party will shortly split, Blair would be well placed to unite and lead the responsible rumps of both. Stranger things have happened. In an age of coalitions, Blair is by far the best equipped to be a natural, instinctive and happy coalition leader, unburdened by convictions and enemies. He is a valuable national asset and I for one hope the country finds further use for him.