Jonathan Reed: No regrets as Blair faces the haunting questions over Iraq

Yesterday, he was back in the spotlight, but only after arriving at the Queen Elizabeth II Conference Centre two hours early under cover of darkness to avoid the attention of Iraq war protesters and the glare of dozens of camera lenses waiting outside.

Still haunted by the decision to go to war seven years ago, he is desperate that the chaos of the Iraq conflict, its aftermath and its sobering death toll should not be his lasting legacy.

Maybe that explains the nerves that he showed as he took his seat in front of the Iraq Inquiry panel yesterday morning, his hand apparently shaking as he sought comfort in a glass of water.

What a relief it must have been to hear the reminder from inquiry chairman Sir John Chilcot that this was not a "trial", despite the desires of those – in their hundreds, rather than thousands – waving "Bliar" placards outside.

But if the appearance of tension and nerves led to any thoughts that the country was about to see a repentant witness ready to show contrition, they soon vanished as the former Prime Minister launched into six hours of defiant testimony that infuriated his critics – indeed, earning him a heckling from some of the families of dead servicemen who had been able to watch the exchanges – and reassured

all those who have stood by him throughout.

Few people will have come away with their opinions swayed.

In short, Mr Blair still thinks it was right to remove Saddam Hussein, still believes it was right to rely on the intelligence which later proved to be untrue and still insists that the failure to disarm the dictator without having to go to war was down to anyone but himself (they didn't call him Teflon Tony for nothing).

No regrets – and yes, he would do it all again.

Oh, and all the fuss over the claim that Saddam was ready to launch missiles in 45 minutes was down to the media.

For all the controversy over the decision to take military action, it was ultimately a question of judgment, he said. "This isn't about a lie or a conspiracy or a deceit – it's a decision."

The force and determination with which he delivered this answer oozed of a man willing to take a decision and stand by the consequences. What a contrast to his successor at Number 10, Gordon Brown, with his reputation for dithering.

Would history have been any different if the mode had been more caution than cavalier?

Seeking to cut through any scepticism over the basis for going to war, Mr Blair attempted to play the political ace in his pack – the "what if" card.

"Sometimes what is important is not to ask the March 2003 question, but to ask the 2010 question," he said.

"Supposing we had backed off this military action, supposing we had left Saddam and his sons who were going to follow him in charge of Iraq – he had used chemical weapons, caused the death of over a million people.

"What we now know is that he retained absolutely the intent and the intellectual know-how to restart a nuclear and a chemical weapons programme when the inspectors were out and the sanctions changed, which they were going to do.

"Now, I think that it is at least arguable that he was a threat, that had we taken that decision to leave him there, with an oil price not 25 dollars but 100 dollars a barrel, he would have had the intent, he would have had the financial means, and we would have lost our nerve."

There were a few too many "ifs" for the liking of Sir Roderic Lyne, who was our man in Moscow at the time of the war and has become the inquiry's inquisitor-in-chief. Displaying flashes of sharpened teeth, he noted that the Government "elected under your leadership" had still to declassify one key paper despite it being readily available on the internet, grilled Mr Blair over the run-up to war and cut him off with a curt "I think you've made your point" on more than one occasion.

Professor Sir Lawrence Freedman, an eminent military historian who wrote the official two-volume history of the Falklands War, also played his part, taking the witness to task over the claim that Saddam could launch missiles within 45 minutes and appearing decidedly unconvinced by Mr Blair's declaration that the intelligence showed Saddam's threat "beyond doubt".

The panel may not have asked every question that could have been dreamed up, but they are doing a fair job of shedding the criticism from the inquiry's early days where they were accused of being too soft.

Their style may not be particularly adversarial, but neither are these five push overs.

As the afternoon wore on, Mr Blair played with his glasses as he was quizzed over the failure of planning for the aftermath of war. It was not a failure to plan, he said – just that they planned for the wrong thing. Mention of the rising annual death toll of Iraqi citizens as the security situation deteriorated was a sobering moment.

So as the clock turned five and the noise of protesters outside the conference centre grew, did Mr Blair have any regrets? One final chance to admit remorse?

No. He takes responsibility, but has no regrets.

As Mr Blair left the room for the final time, some families found it too much to maintain the dignified silence they had managed throughout this tense day.

One member of the audience in the inquiry chamber shouted at him: "You're a liar." A split-second later, another added: "And a murderer."

What a difference from Tony Blair's last departure.

Jonathan Reed is the Yorkshire Post's Political Editor