Against all odds it was Ming’s moment all day long. It began at Prime Minister’s Questions, when Ming stood up and ripped off his spectacles as if he was about to hit someone. Clark Kent could not have done it better. It was Super-Ming to the rescue of hopeless hapless Ming. We were all grateful, however, that red underpants were not involved in any way during this transformation.

Still, no one could believe it when Ming then did actually hit someone. What, Ming demanded of Tony Blair, was his exit strategy for Iraq then? Mr Blair usually treats Ming a bit like a befuddled grandad, but this time he punched right back, attacking the Liberal Democrats’ plan to bring troops home by October. “It is a policy that is deeply irresponsible, which is probably why it’s the Lib Dem policy!” cried Mr Blair.

For a second, Ming seemed to sway. Would he fold? After all, his knees are notoriously weak. At times, a Zimmer frame has seemed the only solution.

But, to the wonderment of all, Ming kept on punching. Why wasn’t Mr Blair attending the Iraq debate after PMQs? “What can possibly be more important?” cried Ming, teeth whistling away like a kettle at boil. “Isn’t that the kind of leadership we are entitled to?” There was something quite mad about Ming lecturing the Prime Minister about leadership but, still, it stung. “I AM actually debating the issue with him NOW,” snapped the PM. But, not, of course, for longer than the 30 seconds it took to answer. As PMQs ended, Tony Blair slipped out of the Chamber, as silently as a shadow. The Tories made exaggerated clapping motions.

David Cameron stayed put, for he pretty much had to. The Iraq debate was full of outrage and, though by tradition a modicum of it was aimed at the Middle East, bucketloads were reserved for T. Blair, the Great Absentee Leader of Downing Street. His stand-in, Margaret Beckett, the Foreign Secretary, refused to say where he was instead. Perhaps Cherie had told her it was a basic human right not to have to attend a debate on a war that you helped to start.

Alex Salmond, the SNP leader, takes huge delight in being hated, for he sticks in Labour’s craw like no other. Yesterday he was on top sneering form: “Why was the Prime Minister so anxious to take us into this disastrous war but so reluctant to explain how we are going to get out of it?” Mrs Beckett, hair helmet as stiff as a meringue, dismissed him. “Frankly, that is really rather a silly remark,” she sniffed.

Now up popped William Hague, his pate gleaming. “The Prime Minister should be here! It is unimaginable that an Attlee or a Callaghan or a Churchill or a Thatcher would not have been here to debate a situation in war!” Next to him, Mr Cameron glowed, for he so wants his name one day to grace that list.

Then, suddenly, Ming was standing. Again! We watched with alarm, for this was twice in one day. But Ming had been in training for exactly this moment and he spoke with something close to eloquence. “With almost chilling regularity every Wednesday we now find ourselves having to acknowledge fatalities in Iraq,” he said. It was the “bleakest moment” of the week.

He was nervous as he set out his framework for withdrawal. Tory and Labour MPs accused him of all sorts of cowardly acts. But Ming, his teeth whistling and his arms flapping, took on all of them as his cape flowed behind him in the slipstream.

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