Despite emerging battered and bruised over the Iraq dossier, British Prime Minister Tony Blair is still set to hang on to power, writes Alistair Alexander from London When Tony Blair addressed his own Labour Party at their conference last week it was billed as the toughest speech of his political career. After a sweltering summer, in which much of the government's case for war has been unravelled in unsparing detail by the Hutton Inquiry, Blair has been feeling the heat more keenly than most. The party conference season marks the beginning of the political year after what is usually an uneventful summer. Each of the three main British parties -- Labour, Conservative and Liberal Democrats -- hosts a week long meeting for their members where their leaders set the tone, if not the policies, for the months ahead. In the 1980s the Labour conferences often descended into farce as hapless party leaders faced a barrage of heckling from their activists. But even with the Labour Party deeply divided over the war on Iraq, anyone expecting a similar reception for Tony Blair was always likely to be disappointed. In Blair's "New Labour" the conference has become a slickly stage- managed event. Party loyalists are strategically positioned around the hall to ensure the audience applauds at all the right places. In key conference debates, the Labour delegates chosen to speak are often uncannily "on message" with the Downing Street spin doctors. Even before Blair spoke he received a standing ovation from his audience. His tone was more defiant than apologetic. "Imagine you are PM and you receive this intelligence," he told his party. "Not just about Iraq but about the whole murky trade in WMD. So what do I do? Say 'I've got the intelligence but I've a hunch its wrong?' Leave Saddam in place but now with the world's democracies humiliated and him emboldened?" Blair's speech was more than enough to face off the critics within his own party, but it is unlikely to persuade many others. But the Labour conference underlined the fact that, despite the prime minister's troubles, there is neither the will nor the means to depose him -- within his party or beyond. The biggest challenge to Blair's leadership at the conference turned out to be from his bitter rival, the Chancellor Gordon Brown. The simmering feud between Labour's two heavyweights has been an obsession with political commentators since Blair became leader 10 years ago -- edging aside the hot favourite Brown in the process. Brown, it is universally understood, has been fuming ever since. Sensing the prime minister's weakness, Brown gave a supportive speech to the conference the day before Blair. Throughout the speech, he made a point of referring to simply "Labour" rather than Blair's preferred "New Labour". He finished by mocking Blair's "best when we're boldest" soundbite from last year's conference. "This Labour Party," he bellowed, "Best when we are boldest, best when we are united, best when we are Labour." From any other minister such a seemingly innocuous turn of phrase would barely be noticed. But from Brown, from whom even a raised eyebrow is often construed as a carefully-coded attack on the prime minister, this apparent celebration of "Old Labour" values amounts to open sedition. While Blair always seems faintly embarrassed by his party's traditionally socialist culture, Brown revels in it. Having kept studiously quiet over Iraq, Brown is keen to impress on his party that there is an alternative to Blair. But the fact that Brown is still regarded as Blair's principal threat only emphasises Blair's security of tenure. The differences between Blair and Brown are about style rather than substance -- most of Blair's more controversial policies have been vigorously supported by Brown. On the question of Iraq, which will continue to erode Blair's authority for the foreseeable future, Brown might have stayed on the sidelines, but voiced his support when required. It would be strange indeed if the Labour Party went through the trauma of despatching their leader over Iraq only to replace him with another supporter of military action. Last week's interim report from the Iraqi Survey Group was another indication that the government is unlikely to face any significant challenge in the foreseeable future. The report essentially confirmed what should have been widely accepted months ago: that Iraq had no WMD capability whatsoever. Having claimed that Iraq was capable of unleashing chemical weapons within 45 minutes, according to the infamously "sexed-up" dossier, might have been expected to cause the government acute embarrassment. But instead, ministers doggedly clung to the one significant discovery made by the group -- a vial of butulinim found at a scientist's home -- and somewhat lamely implored critics to wait for the group to finish their investigations some time next year. But the Survey Group's report adds to the overwhelming evidence that the government's case for war was largely bogus. The Hutton Inquiry has now concluded its hearings, and will publish its final report in December. The central allegation of the inquiry -- that the government "sexed- up" its dossier on Iraq by inserting a claim that Iraq could deploy chemical weapons in 45 minutes -- remains unproven. What is clear, however, is that the claim came from a single dubious source and that the dossier implied the threat was from long- range missiles rather then battlefield weapons, as the initial intelligence indicated. The inquiry also revealed that -- despite vociferous government denials -- Downing Street officials clearly pressured the "intelligence community" to strengthen their claims that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction. The inquiry also highlighted the government's ruthless obsession with using Dr Kelly, the late source behind the original BBC report on the "sexed-up" dossier, as a means to attack the BBC. The government's subsequent brutal process of forcing Dr Kelly to testify in public directly led to his own suicide. The report's eventual publication is likely to cause much excitement and will probably lead to the resignation of Geoff Hoon, the defence secretary who is seen by the government as a suitable sacrifice to preserve the leadership. But the report probably won't to be too damning for the prime minister -- most of the damage has been done already. British government officials are probably more nervous about developments in the US, where an inquiry is under way over what is now dubbed "Wilsongate". US Ambassador Joe Wilson was sent by the CIA to research claims that Iraq was seeking to buy uranium ore from Niger. He went to the press when the White House continued to use the claim, despite his conclusion that the intelligence was false. In response, it appears the White House let it be known that his wife, Valerie Plame, was a CIA agent -- the revelation of which is a serious federal offence. This growing scandal has striking similarities to the Kelly affair; faulty evidence, the leaking of an intelligence official's identity, and nefarious scheming at the very heart of government. The story originally broke in July, but as the president faces grave and gathering political dangers, the scandal has gained new momentum. For Blair, the prospects of a president weakened by the fallout from Iraq couldn't be more serious. If his only significant alliance on the world stage becomes a liability, what little credibility Blair has left will surely desert him. Having so far survived the fallout from Iraq, Blair seems set to follow the course of his predecessor John Major; clinging desperately on to his job against a backdrop of public contempt until the next election. Against every expectation then, Blair seems doomed to follow the course he always vowed to avoid; staying on too long.
