BILL CLINTON sauntered on to the stage yesterday in Manchester, the epitome of celebrity nonchalance.

He spoke slowly with that folksy charm that makes you want to smile for no reason at all. He claimed to be there to talk on the role of government in an interdependent world.

But, as Cherie would say, that’s a lie. He was there because he is a political shaman: they call him Mr President but surely that should be Dr Feelgood after yesterday.

It was not so much a speech as a sermon interlaced with tips from an Oprah self-help session. Bill’s goal was nothing less than to unite the Labour Party.

His speech began, as it seems all things must this week in Manchester, with extravagant praise for everybody in the world but especially Tony and Gordon. “I saw Gordon’s brilliant vision of the future,” he gushed, “and I heard the Prime Minister’s magnificent valedictory.” At this both men, watching from the stage, began to glow like lava lamps. Bill said that Tony’s speech had been “proud but humble, hopeful but cautionary”.

He then added: “The most important thing to me, as somebody who’s been there, was that it was appropriately full of gratitude, devotion and love.” It was sickbag stuff but everyone clapped like mad.

Then he thanked the delegates for belonging to the Labour Party. They were, he claimed, “change agents”. More clapping though we were in deeply American territory here. What was a change agent? Something to do with food colouring? Or, perhaps, washing powder? “You are the change agents in this great nation!” cried Bill. “You have been and you will be!” Everyone clapped, because that must be what change agents do.

Bill gradually began to tell us more about change agents. They spend a lot of time on “home improvement”. You could see the hall take in these words and think in a collective thought bubble: “DIY? Why is he talking about putting up shelves?” Soon all became clear, for “home improvement” was not about shelves but projects such as fixing the economy and education system.

He cited Machiavelli as being the father of all change agents. Gordon Brown, who had been enthusiastically nodding at the idea of change agents carrying out home improvements all over Britain, began to nod even more at the word “Machiavelli”. It was an un-Machiavellian thing to do.

Then Preacher Bill told us a story. He leant forward on the lectern, his long beautiful fingers interlaced in front of him. We couldn’t help but lean forward too. I’ll give you the edited highlights, for it wasn’t short. It’s all about the human genome and how it shows that 99.9 per cent of all of us are genetically identical.

Bill is fascinated that we are obsessed with the one tenth of one per cent that is different. “Remember this: Africans say society is important because of ubuntu. Literally in English it means ‘I am, because you are’.”

At the word ubuntu (pronounced by Bill as ooo-boon-too) the hall began to buzz. Another new word, and so exotic too! The change agents clapped and pursed their lips in a synchronised facial movement. Not since Timann and Pumbaa sang Hakuna Matata in The Lion King have we fallen quite so in love with an African word.

Bill then urged the change agents to go home and “get back to the future business”. At this, delegates began to look lost. What did it mean? But Bill was done now and so there was only time for another standing ovation and then, of course, lunch.

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