THIS WAS the week when election 97 finally came to life, and the question of Europe came crashing centre stage. Mr John Major said he had divined the "defining issue" on the doorsteps, Mr Tony Blair the defining moment of the campaign.
The open subversion of his policy on the single currency forced Mr Major to abandon the fight with Labour to do battle with his own party. Coupled with the dogged refusal of the opinion polls to budge, the chaos and confusion of the Conservative campaign prompted many to write off any lingering thoughts of a Major victory on May 1st. Others, to whom this week's staggering events have come as no surprise, believe the die was cast long before.
It became known as Black Wednesday - although the Conservative Party naturally divided on that. Many commentators have maintained, and many Tories have long feared, that the events of September 16th, 1992, provided the "defining moment" in the life of John Major's government.
It was Mr Major, as Chancellor who took Britain into the European Exchange Rate Mechanism in October 1990. Just 13 months later his Chancellor, Mr Norman Lamont, pledged to do "whatever is necessary to keep the pound inside the ERM". It was the central plank of the Major government's economic policy. And it collapsed just six months after Mr Major's famous victory in April 1992.
With the British economy in deep recession, and the government forced to maintain high interest rates to sustain sterling's position in the ERM, something had to give. But just six days before the traumas of September 16th, Mr Major vowed there would be no devaluation, no realignment. The soft option, he declared, "would be a betrayal of our future. . it is a cold world outside the ERM".
But out they went. We gathered outside Number 10 as news broke of a rise in interest rates of 2 per cent to try to stop sterling's slide. They were to be raised again, by a further 3 per cent. But neither this [nor heavy intervention by the [Bank of England could prevent she pound from falling further. Faced with impossibly high interest rates, Mr Lamont finally admitted defeat and announced the suspension of Britain's membership of the ERM.
It truly was a black day. Critics charged, and allies feared, that the enforced withdrawal from the ERM marked a loss of authority which the Major government would never recover. The charge would be repeated, frequently, as the Conservative Party in parliament tore itself apart over the Maastricht Treaty. But ejection from the ERM was a cause for celebration of the Tory right who renamed the darkest day in Mr Major's political life "White Wednesday". As the pound was left free to float, Euro sceptics sensed a defining moment in their battle for the soul of the party.
There was more than an echo of all this on Black Wednesday, April 16th, 1997.
The Tories began in good heart. Labour had suffered a week of policy wobbles. Mr Major's relentless charge of Labour U turns (on just about everything from Scottish devolution to privatisation) had produced some effect. An ICM poll had bucked the trend and suggested a cut in Mr Blair's lead. John Prescott was apparently caught out saying, apropos the minimum wage, that politicians couldn't be expected to tell the truth all the time.
The trade union brothers in Scotland were preparing their own shopping list of unpopular demands from a Blair government. The Sunday papers reported rising tensions in Labour's high command. And in a clear sign of anxiety, the party's spin doctors said Mr Blair was going to take the party's campaign by the scruff of the neck".
He need hardly have bothered. On Tuesday night the BBC broke the news that Dame Angela Rumbold - a vice chairwoman of the party in charge of candidates - had joined the growing list of Tories declaring their personal opposition to the single currency, in defiance of Mr Major's wait and see policy. Central Office made it clear that, since Dame Angela was not a member of the government the issue of her resignation did not arise. Crucially, the dictum was repeated individual candidates might have carte blanche but ministers would be expected to toe the line.
Twenty four hours later the BBC's Newsnight found two who didn't. The previously unheard of James Paice and John Horam triggered a crisis which left the opposition parties hailing the meltdown of the Tory campaign. Unable to sack the errant ministers, Mr Major took cover behind their token restatement of the official line, contenting himself by declaring them unwise and unhelpful". But at an early morning summit with Kenneth Clarke and Michael Heseltine, the Prime Minister decided to come out, fighting against the Conservative Party.
At an electrifying press conference he appealed to them - "like me or loathe me" - not to bind his hands and send him naked into the negotiating chamber. The Tories then scrapped a scheduled party political broadcast, and Mr Major appealed to the country over the head of his warring party.
This was John Major, back to the wall, at his best. He rehearsed both sides of the currency argument and repeated his promise that the people, not he, would make the ultimate decision.
But even as he spoke, another junior minister had joined the estimated 200 Tory candidates who have already apparently made up their minds. The problem was that his party had stripped his "negotiate and decide" policy of any credibility. "Mr Major may negotiate if he is re elected but - his party will decide. That's the problem, isn't it?" taunted Mr Blair.
The house journal of Euro-scepticism, the Daily Telegraph, lauded the honesty of Tory candidates and declared the issue already closed. Noting Mr Major's renewed promise of a referendum, the paper said it wouldn't come to that. A Tory cabinet would never get to put the question: their backbenchers simply wouldn't allow it.
This opened the door to Mr Blair's renewed attack. Which Conservative Party were the people being asked to elect? The party of Kenneth Clarke or of John Redwood? The party of Michael Heseltine or Michael Portillo? The Tories, he declared, were now two parties, not one.
In this excitable atmosphere there is already rash talk about a post defeat split, with a One Nation Tory rump gathering around Mr Clarke, and the Conservative Nationalist Party rallying to Mr Redwood, Mr Michael Howard or Mr Portillo.
Central Office sources will hear none of it. They insist Mr Major's difficulty has been turned to advantage - that his strongly anti federalist message can yet turn the tables on Mr Blair. The spectre of the upcoming EU summit in Amsterdam is coupled with the dire threat that the European superstate is only weeks away. And yesterday's accompanying advertising campaign, depicting Mr Blair as Chancellor Kohl's dummy, marks the final descent into a deeply personal campaign against the Labour leader.
The Tories will not have long to wait to discover if their scare tactics are working. Tomorrow's batch of polls will be parsed and analysed for any sign of that elusive shift in public opinion.
The Tories, of course, maintain the polls are simply wrong. But if Mr Major remains stuck in the low 30s - or worse, shows signs of further slippage - his leadership, and not Mr Blair's, threatens to be the dominant issue in the final stage of this campaign.
The Nightmare on Downing Street is that, faced with defeat, the cabinet line itself might break, with the contenders tempted to position themselves for the succession battle which would surely follow a Labour victory.