TONY Blair's second electoral landslide oddly diminished his authority. New Labour trounced the Tories for a second time on June 7, but this expected victory fell far short of a ringing endorsement. Three out of four voters did not back Mr Blair.

The Government's incompetent handling of foot and mouth disease, run-down public services and the miserable failure of public transport had flattened the New Labour champagne.

There was a feeling that politicians, of whatever colour, made no difference. Economic globalisation ensured the rich got richer, the poor were stuffed, and Prime Ministers could only tinker around the edges.

September 11 changed everything. Our gripes about delayed trains suddenly shrank into inconsequentiality. And we desperately needed political leadership.

Almost at once, Mr Blair regained all the authority that had leaked away from him ever since the Women's Institute slow hand-clap. His confidence in his own crisis-management, rocked by the fuel protest, returned. With it came his capacity to read the public mood.

For yesterday's speech to the Labour conference and the world, a new Tony Blair emerged. The self-assured British politician from 1997 was back, with the added command that comes from being a veteran of international affairs.

British leaders always strive to emulate the oratory of Winston Churchill then suffer in comparison to him. Tony Blair will never command the heights of Churchillian eloquence, but he found the right words yesterday.

There were memorable lines, often delivered in a stage whisper: "We were with you at the first, we will stay with you till the last" (to the Americans); "our victory not theirs" and "whatever the dangers of the action we take, the dangers of inaction are far, far greater" (on a military response).

The absences were also notable. Ill-defined "war" rhetoric was toned down; and no New Labourspeak, thank heavens. That may be because this speech was the handiwork of Tony Blair alone, we were told, rather than spin-doctoring monkeys clattering on their word processors.

Much came from the heart. Some of it was politically shrewd, particularly his decision to fire the starting gun on joining the Euro at a time when the nation is keener than ever to huddle together with global friends and neighbours. His repudiation of those who suggested that the United States had somehow deserved these attacks needed saying.

Mr Blair drew on the strengths of both nations in the Anglo-American alliance. He poignantly described the reserve and resolve of the British bereaved as they consumed tea, biscuits and small talk in New York. And he praised America's much-mocked dream; this made him think of "a black man, born in poverty, who became chief of their armed forces and is now Secretary of State, Colin Powell - and I wonder frankly whether such a thing could have happened here". Good stuff. Very good stuff.

Mr Blair's determined frown never wavered; his face must be exhausted. The pre-furrowed brow and the messianic delivery will always irritate me, even when I'm sure the Blair message is sincere.

It would be so easy for me to be cynical about his clarion call for the developed world to bring peace, democracy and prosperity to Africa and the world's trouble spots. But such cynicism is self-fulfilling. However much it sounds like a Coca Cola slogan, there is no denying that together we can make the world a better place. And we should try.

But it is not cynical to suggest that we should judge the Prime Minister's crusading words by his actions. He has something of a record of moral courage, though: Kosovo and Northern Ireland come to mind.