It wasn't often that I could voice something as controversial as suggesting that leading members of the government were so amoral that they couldn't choose who to support when watching genocide. But I somehow managed to sneak it through the BBC watchdogs (who perhaps in the circumstances decided to turn a blind eye), and even more surprising, no one from the Tory party complained. I prefer to think that they found it too shaming, rather than the more likely cause - that no one was actually listening to me.

A week is a long time in politics, so the row between Portillo and Heseltine fades into a footnote, as does all yesterdays news. But other fights will take their place, between monetarist and interventionist, Europhile and sceptic, looking to take possession of the soul of the Tory Party, write the new gospels and define the political dogma which will dominate our future.

Eager to jump on a bandwagon with a recent winning record, everyone is a "conviction" politician, with unshakeable faith in an unprovable theory, and an absolute certainty that if people can just be persuaded to believe, that theory will ultimately, inevitably, manifest itself as truth. But matters of faith, conviction and ultimate truth, are not really political but religious (which is why all muslims know you can't separate politics and religion). In this part of the world, however, politicians demand that religion be kept out of politics. That way they can write the dogma for themselves.

But I wonder if dogma is really central to religion, or just a platform from which the power hungry try to impose their will on the trusting faithful around them, a springboard for bigotry and a refuge for the hypocrite, leading to venomous battles amongst clergy and open warfare across sectarian divides, behaviour unrecognisable in the life examples of Jesus or Muhammad. What they taught was the opposite of dogma, namely concern for the morality of our own lives while showing tolerance towards the differences of others.

Politicians are open to persuasion, however, and if the electorate feels a strong moral duty to feed starving Ruandans, then free market considerations are ignored. But our foreign policy doesn't include morality as a reason for action, only public outcry, with the result that our political response is always inevitably too late. Earlier intervention may be more effective and cheaper, but the government can't tell who's side we're on until a disaster has run its course. As with Bosnia, so with Ruanda, it seems that those who would lay down the political dogma for our society can't even tell who is right and wrong when they are watching genocide.