Way back in the sixties, I remember my father commenting that UK Conservative Prime Minister Harold MacMillan would lose the next election and how astounded I was that “Supermac” could be so mistrusted. I asked why and was told simply “he is losing the thread”, meaning that he was losing control of the running of the country. Sure enough he lost the next election, and now we read that he was tired and had marital problems, which may have undermined his tenure.

It seems that in democratic politics leaders and their parties appear to lose their concentration, or perhaps their direct contact with the people who elect them, after a while in the hallowed but protected cloisters of governance. It appears to be an almost unavoidable development.

Currently, students of British politics are watching Tony Blair slowly unravel before their eyes whenever the pressure is on, which is quite often at the moment. There is a nervous vulnerability about him, as if for the first time he is beginning to have self-doubts.

This is the prime minister who has been honoured with the “Bliar” T-shirts, and called a liar in the media countless times. However, simply calling him a liar is certainly not the proper analysis for an extremely complicated man. Liz Kirk, in the European Observer, writing about the UK EU Presidency, described it as disappointing and that his marvellous opening speech to the European Parliament had turned out to be all froth and no substance. Unfortunately, many would agree that this remark is an accurate judgement of Mr Blair’s entire political career.

I do not believe he is the “bliar” of the T-shirt. His oratory skill is based on the simple fact that when he says anything, he really believes that what he is saying is right and truthful. He is utterly convinced of his own veracity.

The problem is that a few weeks later he is quite able to convince himself that something quite different is the truth.

In the eighties I was in Westminster frequently, meeting and observing many of the members, and I had grouped together in my mind three people, Blair, (Labour) Edwina Curry and Jonathan Aitken (Conservative). None of them rang quite true, in fact they had such high opinions of themselves that I had no confidence in them and felt them to be lightweights. Curry was dumped as a failed minister, Aitken committed perjury and went to prison, Blair ended up as Prime Minister because the real leader, John Smith, died of a heart attack.

He has used his undoubted charisma and lawyer’s oratory and a natural actor’s talent to great effect, but the problem is with all tale spinners that eventually the lack of real achievement catches up. When he turns his big bambi eyes on the TV cameras or the audience and beams his sincerity laser out to the people, he is very, very convincing.

Malta, and the Maltese government has enjoyed the warmth of his sunshine presence, which he does so well when only the froth is required. The world was influenced by his super salesmanship of the invasion of Iraq.

Now however, the past is catching up, and the shadow of Gordon Brown, the man who has held the Labour government together is looming over Blair. As he begins to realise that history may not judge him as a great Prime Minister because of his lack of real accomplishments, his party has started to rebel against his autocratic leadership and the strain is beginning to show in nervous tics, thinning hair and a fixed grimacing grin.

Now he has brought back the arch spin doctor and propaganda manager, Alastair Campbell, to try and salvage his falling star.

We shall see if for once there can be a rebirth, a rare turning of the political tide when it starts to run against a tired government which has been in power for too long.

No miracle was available for Margaret Thatcher when she lost the thread, no help was at hand for Helmut Kohl when he lost the thread, John Major never really managed to pick up the thread, and Chirac must surely be given up as dead in the water, even though he bested a pathetic Blair.

Poor Harold Wilson lost the thread, partly through illness but also because he inherited a dreadful mess from the incompetent Heath, and the talented Callaghan inherited the mother of all messes from Wilson, so he never even saw the thread.

The lesson is probably that parties in power become complacent and tired, so when the political tide turns against them, only a Canute can think of turning it, and he ended up getting very wet indeed.