Charles Kennedy: 'After the event is the time to ask questions about this war. But now is not the time'

Charles Kennedy and his staff have been attacked by an enormous vase of white lilies. The Liberal Democrat leader is sneezing and his eyes are red with hay fever. His spin doctor, who has removed the flowers, is covered in flecks of red pollen. "I'll have to get some antihistamine," Mr Kennedy says, between sniffles.

The imagery is not lost on Mr Kennedy. Lilies are, after all, a symbol of death, and he is here to talk about the brutality of war.

He is absorbed by the war. Sky News reports from the front line are broadcast round-the-clock in his office and he surfs the Web for more details of the latest assault at his desk, where a small United Nations flag flies.

"You are under conflict obligations to provide humanitarian relief as you go," he says, glancing at the columns of advancing troops on the television screen. "You don't fight your way to Baghdad and win and then worry about helping people who have been trampled along the way. You have to do that as you progress."

Mr Kennedy is au fait with the language of war these days. Terms such as "post-conflict settlement" trip easily off his tongue and he has assembled a team of distinguished military advisers, including Sir Tim Garden, a former Air Marshal, to give him daily briefings.

Even if it involves "decapitating" Saddam Hussein's regime, Mr Kennedy is backing British troops wholeheartedly and wants as swift and successful an outcome as can be achieved with the minimum of casualties. "You have to give your moral support to the troops. After the event is the appropriate moment to start asking the inevitable questions about the war. But now is not the time. Now they are in action, they deserve support," he says.

Barely a week ago, Mr Kennedy was arguing vehemently against war. He was alone among the main party leaders to call for more time for UN inspectors, and to condemn the United States' push for war as illegal. His position has shifted, he says, because the House of Commons voted for military action. "I still believe diplomacy should have been given more time, but unfortunately that was defeated in Parliament and we have moved on," he says.

His emphasis now is on the conduct of the war: the avoidance of civilian casualties, the treatment of prisoners of war and the humanitarian effort.

He is worried about the use of cluster bombs and warns against being seen by Iraq as a conquering force. "That is extremely important in the eyes of the world, not least the Muslim world, which is already so distressed by what it has seen happening," he says.

As a result of adopting the dissenting view about the war and going on last month's huge London peace march to prove his sincerity, Mr Kennedy's personal poll ratings were catapulted skywards, and he became front-page news. But while he called for peace, his political enemies opened hostilities. The good-natured leader – who makes a virtue of avoiding political slanging matches – has been the object of derision and extraordinary bile, even by Commons standards.

When he stood up to speak last week, the Prime Minister, who is an old parliamentary chum of Mr Kennedy and includes him on his private dinner party list, was quick to pour scorn. "The Liberal Democrats, united as ever in opportunism and error," he said.

The Tories' assault was led by William Hague, who joked that if the Iraqi army collapsed with the same speed as the Liberal Democrats "it will be a very short war". The Foreign Secretary, Jack Straw, called this "one of the greatest parliamentary put-downs of all time".

But Mr Kennedy seems unperturbed by such jibes. "[Blair's] tetchiness doesn't bother me in the slightest," he says. "I've been here for 20 years and I have seen much worse than this. It causes me no loss of sleep whatsoever."

He says he would rather his party were the centre of attention than ignored, as they often were in the old days. "Norman Shrapnel, the distinguished parliamentary observer, once said that, in a parliamentary democracy, too much silence is much more ominous than too much noise. If forced to choose, I would rather have a few more decibel levels than silence."

The Tories are so steamed up they have drawn up a document listing apparent contradictions in Mr Kennedy's argument. He thinks they feel threatened because his party is on course to seize several of their parliamentary seats. "In a sense, we should take it as a tribute that our competitors in opposition politics think they should have to take us that seriously," he says.

"They are right to take us seriously, but they are just doing it in the wrong way. Force of argument is far better than the force of insult."

Mr Kennedy thinks the public are turned off by seeing party leaders hurling verbal missiles at each other across the Commons chamber. "It doesn't do the image of Parliament on such a serious issue any good at all," he says. "People don't like it, because they think, whether they agree with us or not, we have had something distinctive to contribute to the discussion about war."

The disaffection of the public with politics is a theme that Mr Kennedy returns to often. During the election he won much sympathy by calling for an end to "yah-boo" politics and for parties to engage with young voters.

The war, paradoxically, has motivated a whole generation of disaffected youth, and many of their parents, to engage directly with politics. "This issue has brought one million people on to the streets, the bulk of whom never marched or joined parties and who don't go on peace vigils or protests," he says.

"It rather gives the lie to this idea that everyone is cynical and turned off and Parliament doesn't matter. I wish we could have picked a happier issue, but it does show there is a fundament of interest in the political process."

Mr Kennedy has gone far since he was elected, aged 23 in 1983, with some luck because of a boundary change. The former SDP MP was swiftly spotted as a future leader, and under Paddy Ashdown had to live with the burden of being heir-apparent.

Now, after three years of leading the party, with what critics termed a slightly hesitant start, he has developed a distinctive alternative voice in politics and speaks with authority on domestic, European and world issues. He is open about his "total frustration" at Tony Blair's failure to call a euro referendum.

"So far, the Prime Minister has shockingly missed the boat twice," he says. "I think he could have resolved the issue after his first general election victory and he could have resolved [it] after the second general election victory. Now the euro is on the back burner, for obvious reasons."

He is also worried that hurling insults at Jacques Chirac, the French President, and the tacit encouragement of anti-French feeling will make it much harder for Mr Blair to win such a referendum. Britain's decision to back America over Iraq without EU support has shattered European goodwill, and this may take years to rebuild.

"There's no doubt the amount of damage that has been done to Britain's standing in Europe has been colossal," he says. "It's also the damage that's been done between Europe and North America."

Mr Kennedy believes rebuilding relations with Europe and tending the "bruised feelings" in the UN and Nato must be a priority after the war. "It is perverse in the extreme to presume you can have a more isolationist approach to world problems. You can't," he says. "I hope that Tony Blair has not irrevocably chosen America over Europe."

Iraq's suffering will be even greater if the scars within the UN and EU are not healed in time for the humanitarian effort. "The bruised feelings that exist amongst several governments are as nothing compared to the suffering that is going on in Iraq," he says.

"It's beholden on political leaders across the world to keep the differences on hold and focus on the much bigger humanitarian issues."

Mr Kennedy may be steeped in internationalism, but he remains a Scottish boy at heart. His cufflinks have a Celtic design and a shepherd's staff is propped in the corner of his room. He is even prone to flights of puritanism, which sit strangely with his reputation as a bon viveur. Asked what he is most proud of as leader, he replies curtly: "Pride is a sin, so I don't subscribe to it." Then a flicker of satisfaction enters his eyes as he considers his party's standing and its conduct over the war. The party's record poll ratings and its united position on Iraq are pleasing, he admits, although he declines to give himself personal credit for this.

"I really do pay tribute to my parliamentary colleagues. We have come right throughout this issue completely united as a party," he says. "I think that's really good news. It gives me encouragement about what lies ahead."