SOMETIMES a phrase just jumps out at me for the wrong reasons – or, at least, not the reasons its originator intended.

Such a moment came on a recent current affairs programme when one of the participants criticised the Government’s actions in Libya on the grounds “this wasn’t in their manifestos”.

Well, it would have been surprising if it had been; just imagine what the conspiracy theorists would have made of it if Messrs Cameron or Clegg had solemnly pledged during last year’s election what they’d do in the event of widespread unrest in the Arab world and the chance to overthrow one of its more notorious dictators.

I sort of know, I think, what the pundit was getting at; that if the coalition was defined by one idea it was to tackle the massive budget deficit facing UK plc.

But that same administration was now knee-deep in a Middle Eastern conflict at a cost of billions of pounds, and the public wanted to know what was going on, and maybe even be consulted on what happened next.

Trouble is, the world is not so easily controlled as pundits and politicians would have us believe.

The Libyan situation is one of the sort of challenges that grand old man of British politics, Harold MacMillan, surely had in mind when he replied “events, dear boy, events” to someone who asked him what caused the most discomfort for occupants of Number 10.

So I have some sympathy for our rulers when they are criticised for having to make policy decisions on the hoof; events happen, and isn’t making decisions what we pay them for? Are we to have a referendum on every breaking news story the Government has to take a position on?

I don’t envy anyone who has to make important judgements based on what’s going on in the Arab world right now. In the case of Libya the West made a decision to back the rebels, which is why William Hague was chatting with them at the weekend. Whether that decision was right or wrong, it’s a bit late to try to cosy up to Gaddafi again, and there are reasons why Libya’s fate is a bit more important to us than that of, say, Yemen or possibly even Syria (which could be summed up as “oil, dear boy, oil”).

But I do find something amusing in how swiftly governments can be blown off course by the squalls of unpredictable fortune, and defence spending is a prime example – whenever ministers start cutting back, it’s probably wise to invest in an air-raid shelter.

Look at the recent record: the Royal Navy was facing major cuts when the Argentines invaded the Falklands (how different might history have been if they’d waited a while?); budgets were again under threat when Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait; Labour ministers and service chiefs clashed bitterly over alleged equipment shortages while fighting wars in both Iraq and Afghanistan; and we were treated this weekend to a French admiral expressing incredulity at the cutbacks in the British fleet, while speculating wistfully on how much easier it would be to attack Gaddafi if there were another (ie British) aircraft carrier in the Mediterranean.

An even bigger example of a government finding itself turned inside out by events beyond its control came several decades ago, when a Conservative-dominated coalition slashed spending in a depression, only to find that, after balancing its budgets, it ended up in an all-consuming war against Hitler for which it was sorely unprepared and which, rather ironically, nearly fatally drained the nation’s coffers.

The reason all these governments turned to cutting defence is there are few votes in it. I wouldn’t be too happy if I or my loved ones were denied expensive medical treatment so the nation could buy tanks or missiles, and most people feel the same. But when you are at the mercy of events, is it wise to let your guard down too often?