IT TOOK a while but gradually politics began to stain through.

At first the response in this country to the Asian tsunami disaster was in human terms, spurred by dumb shock at the appalling scale of a natural disaster which could claim 150,000 lives, or maybe more.

Many words of sombre good reporting have, and continue to be, expended on this disaster, although words may seem inadequate. Pictures tell the story so well and so terribly, then words fill out the gloomy spaces, letting the bleakly unthinkable sink in.

It is the human way to respond to disasters, to try to do something and, gradually, to slip into some of the old bad habits. In the immediate aftermath, politics was by-passed. Perhaps this was because of the holidays; perhaps because people acted on good instinct. An astonishing amount of money was donated before politics had even put on its muddy boots.

The amount raised was £89 million last time I checked, but it is sure to have risen again. All this happened without the urging of politicians and was a massive up-swelling of good humanity in a time of dire need.

Much in the way that the Live Aid concerts of 20 years ago side-stepped politics to highlight the plight of Africa, this spontaneous generosity spoke of a people who can act outside of the political system.

As for politics itself, there is good to be found here, particularly Chancellor Gordon Brown's efforts to freeze debt repayments from countries worst hit by the disaster.

And Tony Blair's belated pledge on the Today programme yesterday to contribute hundreds of millions is welcome - although, as has been pointed out elsewhere, has to be set against the £6 billion the government found so easily to fund the war in Iraq.

The unseemly stuff continues, sadly. Much hostile buffeting surrounded Tony Blair, who remained on holiday in Egypt when news of the disaster broke. I heard on the radio that the Daily Mail was angry. No surprise there then. The Mail is always angry, kept in a perpetual state of self-generated, frothing fury about just about anything.

In a sense, the Prime Minister was damned whichever way he stepped. Stay away, but in touch, and he could appear not to care; come home and pontificate, and he could seem to be taking advantage. By not returning sooner, Blair is seen to have made a mistake, yet his absence made no real difference.

Tory leader Michael Howard stayed around all holidays, doggedly pursuing what headlines he could capture. But was this any better than Blair being away, or merely the actions of a member of a self-important political class which believes the world cannot survive without them?

Howard even sneaked in an early version of the Tory manifesto, which is, apparently, to be delivered in instalments, just like Mr Dickens did (although perhaps without generating quite the same sense of fevered anticipation).

This led to accusations from George Foulkes, a former Labour international development minister, that the Tories were being hypocritical, having cut overseas aid while in office.

I don't know if this is true, though it seems likely. But that is not what's important. No, it is that politicians such as Mr Foulkes should enter into unseemly party-political squabbles at a time when the scale of the disaster is not yet even revealed. Surely the everyday bickering should be given a rest while aid agencies struggle to bring help and ordinary people contribute on such a scale?

Sometimes silence is so much more eloquent, which is why yesterday's three-minute silence will have said so much to so many. True, the squalls and squabbles of politics will soon strike up again, because that's how we are.

Perhaps, this may turn out to be one time when politics can be used for an unquestionable good, helping those parts of the world left with the worst problems known for a generation. You never know.

Updated: 09:04 Thursday, January 06, 2005