Unscathed by the Hutton report, he left office at a time of his own choosing, give or take a little pressure from Gordon Brown. He has maintained a high profile as the Middle East peace envoy, which could lead to another big international job, such as EU president. His memoirs are expected to earn him £5m, on top of £2m a year from consultancies and six-figure sums on the lecture circuit, all of which help to offset his and Cherie's less-than-sure touch in the property market. Appearing before Hutton, he successfully conveyed the impression of being above the panic elsewhere in No 10. But the whole WMD saga cemented his image as a man who believes his sincerity and good intentions are what count, not the facts.
When the BBC reported in May 2003 that the Government had "sexed up" its dossier on Iraq's alleged WMD the previous autumn, Tony Blair's director of communications went wild. Without his relentless pressure on the broadcaster, it is doubtful that Dr Kelly would have been exposed as reporter Andrew Gilligan's source. He left Downing Street before the inquiry ended, and became a surprise hit on the "Evening with..." circuit as well as a pundit and charity fundraiser. Last year he announced a £1m deal for his diaries – published, as promised, after Tony Blair left office.
Sir John Scarlett
An MI6 veteran, he was head of the Joint Intelligence Committee, the Government's main intelligence clearing house, at the time of the Iraq war, and claimed authorship of the 2002 WMD dossier. But the Hutton inquiry revealed the torrent of emails between him and Campbell, who called him a "mate", as the language of the dossier was toughened up to make Saddam Hussein look more of a threat. Many spooks deplored this politicisation of intelligence, but Scarlett became head of MI6 in 2004, and a knighthood followed last year.
The fumbling performance, before Hutton, of the 'Today' programme's defence correspondent brought neither him nor the BBC much credit, especially when it emerged he had not done everything possible to preserve his source's anonymity. Internal BBC emails painted him as a loose cannon, but he was essentially right about the flimsiness of the WMD dossier. Gilligan and the BBC parted company after the inquiry, and he found a home for his adversarial style in the press. If the defeat of Ken Livingstone as London Mayor can be attributed to a single journalist, it is Gilligan, whose exposés in the 'Evening Standard' forced the resignation of Livingstone's key ally, Lee Jasper.
Tony Blair's Secretary of State for Defence was reckoned the favourite by pundits to lose his job over the Kelly affair. Unpopular with the generals, in his evidence to the Hutton inquiry he seemed to be out of the loop and more solicitous of No 10's wishes than of his department's position. It required a senior aide to reveal that Mr Hoon had taken the decision that led to Dr Kelly's name becoming public as the source for Gilligan's story. But the pundits were wrong: uncondemned by Hutton, he remained in his post until Mr Blair left office, smoothly transferring his allegiance to Mr Brown, and is still in the Cabinet as Labour's Chief Whip.
The Kelly family
Janice Kelly endured weeks of speculation about her husband's suicide, possible "relationships" with women he had met during his work as an arms control inspector and his conversion to the Bahai faith. He felt "totally let down and betrayed" by his employers, she told Lord Hutton on the only occasion on which she has spoken out. In May this year her brother, Derek Vawdrey, criticised Cherie Blair's description of the controversy in her memoirs. Recalling Dr Kelly's death, Mrs Blair said she reassured her husband that he was a "good man" with "pure motives". Mr Vawdrey retorted that "Dai" – the family's name for Dr Kelly – "was badly used then, and he's being badly used now". He added: "It's somehow so typical of the Blairs to make use of Dai's death to show the world what a wonderful man Tony Blair is."
If the objections of Dr Kelly and other WMD experts had been heeded, and the notorious dossier on Iraq's supposed doomsday weapons had not been published, would the invasion have gone ahead? The answer is yes: the Government, we now know, had already pledged its support to the US, which was, in any case, prepared to act on its own. The dossier was designed to justify the decision to the public. If Britain had stayed out of the war, Dr Kelly might still be alive, but the disastrous effects on Iraq would not have been avoided.
The Northern Irish law lord was little known outside the legal profession when he took on the inquiry into the circumstances surrounding Dr Kelly's death, but was said by supporters to have a reputation for being independent. That reputation did not survive the publication of his report in January 2004, which was condemned for favouring the Government against the BBC. Stung at being bracketed with Lord Widgery, whose rushed report on the Bloody Sunday shootings in Northern Ireland is now considered a whitewash, Lord Hutton kept a low profile, apart from complaining in 2006 that the media had misunderstood his terms of reference. Lately, according to legal circles, he has made himself available for the kind of work that comes the way of retired law lords, such as arbitration cases.
The then director-general of the BBC looked uncomfortable at the inquiry, which revealed him as a showman rather than a political operator. His chairman, Gavyn Davies, who took a more pugnacious line, stepped down after Lord Hutton reported, and Dyke offered his resignation, hoping the BBC governors would reject it. They did not. Though he has had various media-related roles since, such as chairing the British Film Institute, he has not held a big job in TV. He remains angry, saying the BBC "lost its nerve after Hutton".
The Ministry of Defence
Nobody seemed sure who was in charge of Dr Kelly at the MoD, according to evidence at the inquiry, least of all the scientist himself. One of Lord Hutton's few criticisms of the Government was over his treatment by apparatchiks preoccupied with correct procedure and satisfying their political masters rather than showing humanity to an obviously troubled man. Five years later, the impression of muddle, powerfully conveyed at the Hutton inquiry, still prevails.Reuse content