The Sketch: Leader shows his temper to MPs - and scares the wits right out of them

Something happened in the House of Commons. It was well worth waiting for (it's only been three years this Easter). Tony Blair absolutely rolled his party. In public. Swung them off their feet. Danced them round the hall.

When he sat down, he got one of those dense, congregational Hear Hears from his troops. Especially his troops in the Tories. You've been reading about the rebellion? The backbench coalition against the war? The cabinet split? That's all in the past. He created the mood of the House and deployed it to overwhelming effect. What did he say? It was so well done I didn't hear a word of it. They weren't necessary, the words. The tune was everything.

I think he lost his temper slightly. He allowed us to see something we never see. He wasn't doing passion (as he has at party conferences, talking about his indivisible core), he wasn't doing sincerity, he wasn't doing humility.

No, he showed us his temper. It must have been intended (the timing was exquisite) but it wasn't fully intended. A Conservative went up to him after PMQs and congratulated him. The Prime Minister, close observers say, didn't think anything special had happened. He may have been acting that part as well? Of course it is possible, but historical comparison makes this unlikely. Mr Blair has done something like this before.

Last year, he produced what the Sketch described at the time as his "public school scrum half persona". Manly, decent, brave, honourable, energetic; he ran straight at the leader of the Opposition and straight over him. It was a very impressive experience, not least for whomever it was leading the Conservatives. The Prime Minister had allowed himself to become exasperated. It's such a change from his controlled delivery of sound bites, it takes his audience by surprise. It is completely convincing. We might wonder why he doesn't do it more often.

There had been a number of questions about Iraq. Dennis Skinner had been more than usually stupid. David Winnick gave us an angry denunciation of that evil, lying swine (Saddam Hussein). The Prime Minister dealt with them on a limited basis. Things were flat, sober, we were missing the bear garden of post-prandial questions. And then in the last moments of the half hour, Elfyn Llwyd from the other side gave him what he needed. It was a question that was both weakly offered and provocative.

"The Prime Minister often says he likes to do things because they are right," he began and then went on to ask how it could be right to go to war in Iraq.

"I'll tell you why," Mr Blair took a deep breath and barrelled into him. It was so ravishing that the only phrase I can retrieve was that future generations would be haunted by these terrible weapons if we didn't act. It suddenly didn't matter whether he was right, not if you were in the room.

The only reliable way to move a mob is by inspiration. Which is, of its nature, unpredictable. When will Blair's research team discover how to manufacture inspiration? That will be the third-term project that will allow his fourth term.

Simoncarr75@hotmail.com