Alan Watkins: The minority view - you read it here first

In the days of the Wars of the Roses, the peasants were probably saying: "Lancaster, York, what's the difference? They're all the same. They're only in it for what they can get out of it." As then, so now. There is, however, a difference between, on the one hand, a disillusion with politics and politicians - even though some of us did not posses many illusions in the first place - and, on the other hand, a perfectly rational wish not to deliver into the grip of one party or the other that absolute power which, in its wisdom, the British constitution still bestows on a duly elected government.

In the days of the Wars of the Roses, the peasants were probably saying: "Lancaster, York, what's the difference? They're all the same. They're only in it for what they can get out of it." As then, so now. There is, however, a difference between, on the one hand, a disillusion with politics and politicians - even though some of us did not posses many illusions in the first place - and, on the other hand, a perfectly rational wish not to deliver into the grip of one party or the other that absolute power which, in its wisdom, the British constitution still bestows on a duly elected government.

It would be idle to deny that political cynicism is high, though we have been through similar periods before. But if this is an unworthy feeling, as it may or may not be, it is not at all the same as concluding that, for the next five years or so, we do not want either Mr Michael Howard or Mr Tony Blair to be bossing us around. And we have certainly been through periods of this kind as well.

In 1950, for instance, the electors returned C R Attlee's Labour government with a majority of only five. The Cabinet held a meeting in the House of Commons to decide whether to carry on governing. The comrades decided that they could manage it, just about. Others were not so sure. There was a good deal of fascistic talk emanating from Buckingham Palace about whether a coalition government should not be imposed on the country. It was even suggested that a council of state should be formed under Lord Salisbury, of all people.

Luckily, all this chatter came to nothing. Eighteen months later, Winston Churchill formed his last administration with a majority of 17, which was regarded as more or less viable, even though it might be on the risky side.

In 1964 it was assumed by all who took an interest in these matters that Harold Wilson was bound to defeat a discredited Conservative party by a healthy margin. Nothing of the kind happened. He squeezed through the window of No 10 with a majority of four and had to wait till 1966 to consolidate his position. On this occasion there was, however, no repetition of the treacherous talk from the Palace which had been such a feature of that earlier period of Labour government by a small majority.

For virtually the whole of the 1974-79 period, Labour governed without a majority of any kind. The tiny majority which Wilson had obtained in the second election of 1974 had disappeared by the time James Callaghan was established two years later. Indeed, though Callaghan lost the 1979 vote of confidence by only one, by that time he was, from by-elections and other causes, in a minority of 17.

The same fate overtook Mr John Major in 1992-97. We tend to associate his government with our ignominious departure from the exchange-rate mechanism, with the difficulties surrounding the Maastricht Treaty, with Mr Major's unfulfilled promise to abolish cones on motorways. We forget that, by the 1997 dissolution, he was in a minority of three, as he had been for some time previously. We forget this because Margaret Thatcher and, briefly, Mr Major himself had enjoyed years of large majorities; just as Mr Blair has enjoyed them for the last seven years. There is no divine rule which says that this state of affairs must continue. In fact the signs, from the election results that are available as I write, are that the voters do not want it to continue. They have had enough of Mr Blair: but then, they are none too enthusiastic about Mr Howard either.

The most effective way for them to secure the result which they have in mind is either to refrain from voting at all or to vote for one of the minor parties, notably for the Liberal Democrats. Whether this result is obtained - in the hallowed phrase of the last few days, No Overall Control, which is better, in my opinion, than Hung Parliament - well, this is partly a matter of chance.

Whether Mr Blair wins 330 seats, so enabling him to form a majority government, or one fewer, so requiring him to enter into arrangements with another party or parties, is not something that an individual voter in the booth or at home can determine. But he or she can make a minority government more likely by voting for a small party or by not voting at all.

A few months ago I suggested that the most probable outcome of the election was a minority Labour government. The events of the past few days have, if anything, strengthened this judgement or, if you prefer, this guess. Remember, you read it here first. The probability of a minority government is still, I think, itself a minority view. The wisdom of the wise remains that the young war criminal will be returned, even if with a drastically reduced majority.

The government line is that the position in Iraq will slowly improve and that, in any case, television and the papers will gradually lose interest and that, by the time of the election, people will have forgotten about it. Mr Blair said beforehand that Iraq cast a shadow over this election. He and his acolytes, such as the ubiquitous Dr John Reid, clearly hope that by election time the light will have shifted.

Perhaps the better analogy is that they hope Iraq can be put in a box. A sports psychiatrist once advised the leading Welsh rugby goal-kicker of his day that, before taking a kick, he should discard all his worries, put them in a box and place the box carefully on the touchline. This technique worked well for Mr Neil Jenkins, the recipient of this no doubt invaluable advice. Whether it will work equally well for Mr Blair is more doubtful.

For the Iraq adventure, so far from being aberrant - or detachable, or capable of being placed conveniently in a box - is wholly typical of the Prime Minister's approach not only to international affairs but to politics generally. He wants to do good to people, whether they like it or not: an attitude adopted obediently by most of the Cabinet, with the surprising exception of Dr Reid, who found himself in trouble earlier in the week for echoing George Orwell and defending the simple pleasures of the poor.

In addition, Mr Blair is our most bellicose Prime Minister since Lord Palmerston, perhaps more so. Where Churchill spent most of his peacetime premiership in trying to arrive at an accord with what was then the Soviet Union, much to the annoyance of the Americans - the Anglo-American alliance was more a true alliance in those days - Mr Blair has shown scant reluctance to have young men killed or maimed. He now clearly hopes that Mr Gordon Brown will save him. But Mr Brown, or the Monetary Policy Committee, may have other ideas.