Tony’s attempt at war was just bloody bad form

It seemed timely, with the Grand War Criminal about to appear before Chilcot, for those of us on the side of the angels to hammer out our precise justifications for a war, should we desire one. So it was that I hosted a round-table cheese-and-port discussion at White's, attended by military historians of the correct persuasion (Roberts, Starkey, Letts, Dannatt . . .)

It did not take long to reach a consensus. This once Great country should embark upon a foreign invasion only if:

a) The Party was significantly behind in the polls and a general election was imminent.
b) Victory could be guaranteed.
c) There was a darned good chance the majority of the body bags would be home before the bunting had come down.

The Falklands war, of course, set the template for this three-point plan. It established the guiding principle, known as Whitelaw's Law, that a war should be considered only if it would be doubly popular in the country as the party proposing it.

This being a piece of wisdom so commonplace that, were I sitting on the Chilcot inquiry (and soundings were made), the first question I would ask the GWC would be this: "What the hell did you think you were doing, man? The polls were fine. An election was distant. And the populace was far too busy building extensions to care about happenings in the Former Mesopotamia."

Because, I suspect, Tony went to war primarily out of boredom, and, because of all the selfish 21st-century reasons, it would provide persuasive evidence that no one should serve a third term.

As Gulf War II approaches its seventh anniversary, there have been fewer British casualties than in the Falklands while significantly more has been achieved. Yet one is hailed as a patriotic success, while the other is seen as a global fiasco. As Osborne has become irritatingly fond of saying in a simply ghastly mid-Atlantic accent, which I fear he thinks masks his lack of grasp of simple economics, "Go figure."

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Andy Coulson staggered everyone by saying straight to Dave's face that "the time's come, matey, to be less Obama and more Palin".

Our leader looked, in a word, pained. He has fantasised about appearing on television with the president almost as often as he has suffered nightmares about being trapped at a barbecue with the former vice-presidential contender. But sometimes, in politics, you have to make personal sacrifices.