BRITISH PUBLIC CONNED BY BLAIR'S GOD DELUSION

'WE DON'T do God," Alastair Campbell once famously quipped when religion rose its pontificating head during his boss Tony Blair's tenure as prime minister.

Then, last night on BBC 1, I saw David Aaronovitch, Tony Blair and Alastair Campbell discuss the former PM's religious convictions on The Blair Years and we learned that Mr Blair had always been much more "into God" than he'd admitted.

Alastair was the king of spin and, he suspected one great man in power was more than enough for Britain. By excluding God from the equation, he secured Tony's position as the main man.

I was a Christian as a child. I really loved my Sunday school and the Bible classes. I adored the warm feeling of companionship and friendliness from my fellow Christians. The 1960s were a difficult time for me, as I was being subjected to sexual abuse at the time from an uncle, and I would often pray to God for it to stop.

When the abuse continued, I assumed in my childish naivety that the reason God couldn't help was because he was very busy with Vietnam. He could only help some people some of the time, and eventually he would get round to me.

My faith back then did give me amazing comfort, though I did grow up and grow out of my love of all things holy.

I was, and still am, proud to admit I had strong spiritual belief. I cherish my childhood Bible. I think back to the times I used to place a fuzzy-felt Jesus on a big felt board and read out Bible stories.

Unlike Tony Blair, I never hid the strength of my faith.

We knew Tony Blair was a Christian all along, but he refused to admit the strength of his commitment in case people thought he was - to quote Mr Blair himself - "a nutter".

I would never have thought being a Christian made Tony Blair a nutter. The fact that he was a war-mongering, bare-faced liar was enough for me. Whether or not he believed he was acting for God is another issue.

How dare he assume that ordinary people would link religious belief with mental illness?

This is the man who is now a peace ambassador. He is negotiating with many factions at loggerheads with each other in the Middle East. Religion seems to be at the base of most of their problems, and yet he has made it clear he believes ordinary people think true believers are nutters!

Tony Blair said, when speaking of religion and politics: "You talk about it in our system and, frankly, people do think you're a nutter. I mean...you may go off and sit in the corner and...commune with the man upstairs and then come back and say 'Right, I've been told the answer and that's it'."

Did he ask God a question? Did this have anything to do with his invasion of Iraq? If so, then I do want to know what God said to him, because I personally would like a second opinion.

We elect a prime minister to do his or her best for the people and for humanity, not for a religion. But that doesn't mean we would persecute them for their beliefs. It displays a deep mistrust of his own people that this former prime minister lied about the strength of his belief.

Or maybe he was right to expect flak. Sir Menzies Campbell, the former leader of the Liberal Democrats, says the public might have been less willing to give Blair the success of three consecutive general election victories "if they'd known the extent to which ethical values would overshadow pragmatism".

Religion and politics can work happily together, but only if one does not overpower the other. Humanity and humility can go a long way when dealing with difficult decisions, especially when considering taking your country into war. Only God knows what Tony Blair thought about when he clutched his Bible and asked for guidance.

Having a faith that is based on peace and forgiveness should be a comforting aspect of any world leader, so why is it that all the prime ministers and presidents who claim to have the ear of their God end up causing wars?

It makes you consider Scientology as a way of life. Has Tom Cruise ever bombed a nation yet?

Gordon Brown is a son of the manse and, despite my deep suspicions about his Presbyterian political persuasion, he has never denied the strength of his religious beliefs and that, at least, has to be admired.

SILENCED - BY SIR HARRY LAUDER

LAST Wednesday, I was performing comedy for ScotsCare; it's a charity that helps Scottish people in London. The event was held at the Caledonian Club in swanky Belgravia.

At first glance, the lovely crowd who turned out to support the charity didn't look like comedy-club regulars - the average age was 65 - and yet they were really supportive.

But, when you see very nice posh people in tartan staring at you, immediately all your punch lines feel inappropriate.

Sir Thomas McPherson was the main speaker. He is a sparkling wit and a wonderfully interesting man with a jaunty manner.

"Who was the last stand-up comic you saw live, Sir Thomas?" I asked from the stage.

"Sir Harry Lauder!" he quipped back.

I was speechless - not many people get one over on me, but Sir Thomas won that heckle.

It was a great night all round, and thanks to all the people that came out for ScotsCare.

NO HESITATION FROM FIRST-CLASS WIT

MY NEW best friend is Nicholas Parsons.

We were working together again last week on the BBC Radio 4 show Just a Minute and shared a train journey back to London. He was telling me all about his time as an engineer on the Clydeside docks in Glasgow back in the 1940s.

People assume he is just a posh TV presenter. What they may not realise is that Nicholas is an amazingly sharp-witted, funny comic and fabulous actor.

I had skipped into first class to sit with him but only had a cheap day ticket. When the inspector looked at my ticket and frowned, Nicholas butted in with a wonderful Scottish accent and said: "She is with me, son!" The man smiled and moved on.

It was so surreal to hear Nicholas appear so menacing. He sounded like an old Glasgow gangster. It freaked the inspector, but it made my day.

SO MUCH FOR MY CALL TO LAPLAND

"AUNTIE Janey - Is Santa real?" my four-year-old great niece Abi asked me with big innocent eyes.

"Yes and you must be good to get gifts. I will call Santa now if you want." I picked up my mobile and pressed the number pad. "Hello Santa. Yes, I am Abi's Auntie Janey and I just wanted to let you know she is a good girl."

Wee Abi watched my every move, her excited face lit up and she moved nearer to listen. Then I hung up. I didn't want her to know I was speaking to my daughter Ashley.

Abi ran into the living-room and said to her mum: "Guess what? Santa is a lady and sounds Scottish! Auntie Janey called her. Wait till I tell everyone at nursery! Can I have her phone number so we can call her too?"

I have no idea how to get out of this one.