Bruce Anderson: So who has the stomach for the next stage of the fight?

In Washington, everyone is talking about "O" Day: the day, hoped to be imminent, when Osama bin Laden is killed or captured (preferably killed). But "O" Day will only be the end of the beginning. It will not be a signal for relaxation; it will merely enable the Americans to redeploy commitment and concentration to the next phase of the war against terror and terror-sponsoring states, with Iraq as the principal target.

In this, the US assumes it will be able to rely on British support. During a recent trip to Washington, I was often asked about British public and parliamentary opinion. I told my questioners that public opinion would be uneasy, partly because the liberal left had succeeded in depicting George Bush as a dunce president controlled by hawks and cold war warriors. The UK would be much more apprehensive about an attack on Iraq than the US was.

As for Parliament, the Tories would support the American line while the Liberals opposed it outright. In the Labour Party there would be dismay. When Labour MPs drew up their wish lists for a second term, few of them included standing shoulder to shoulder with the US military in a succession of foreign wars. But Tony Blair would ensure that his party's discipline was maintained. Even if he has private misgivings – which he may not – Mr Blair will support Mr Bush. The PM has no choice; his foreign policy is now bound in with the American alliance.

My views clearly tallied with assessments which the Bush administration is receiving from the American Embassy here. The Americans are aware that it will not be easy for Mr Blair, so his willingness to override party disquiet and a doubting public opinion only increases his popularity in Washington. The special relationship has rarely been in better shape since 1945, particularly because the Americans know that other Europeans will cause problems. They would rather that this were not the case, but see no way round it. They are prepared to press ahead whatever the Europeans think.

Washington's attitude to the international Afghan peace-keeping force was instructive. They regarded the prospect of a British commander as the obvious choice. In the Pentagon, our armed forces are much admired; their peace keeping record in Bosnia, Kosovo and Sierra Leone is regarded as ideal training for Afghanistan. Equally, there is absolute mutual confidence on intelligence matters. I was assured that these days, the Americans treat the British as colleagues on intelligence; any lingering doubts from the era of Burgess, Maclean and Philby have long been assuaged. In the field, Americans do not worry about what they should tell the Brits; they tell them everything.

That would not apply in any dealings with the French. Whether or not the French actually supplied the Serbs with the information they needed to shoot down a stealth bomber, they are widely distrusted in Washington. They could expect minimal co-operation. Moreover, the Americans have a low opinion of the French Armed Forces; there are no plans for a French commander of the Afghan force.

Nor did President Jacques Chirac help matters in his recent visit to Washington, when he was too busy lecturing his hosts to build up any rapport with them; it is not as if the Americans think that his advice is worth taking. A couple of days later, Mr Blair was having dinner in the White House. "How did the Chirac visit go?" he enquired. Nobody replied. After a few seconds, the PM got the message: "Question withdrawn" he said, before adroitly changing the subject to a more pleasant topic.

On one crucial point, the American attitude and the European one differ – and in this respect, Britain is part of Europe. On our side of the Atlantic, we tend to believe that Islamic fundamentalism is a well-nigh irresistible force; the Americans make no such assumption. They counter our pessimism with two arguments. The first is that Islamic fundamentalism would be much weaker if it could not rely on state support; the second is that the Muslim world respects power and victory.

Apropos of state support for militancy, the Americans are optimistic about likely developments in Iran. They believe that the regime is almost terminally unpopular, and may soon be unable to exert its authority. They think that the Iranian young will take to the streets sooner rather than later, and that when this happens, the Armed Forces will not be willing to shoot them down. So the mullahs are almost as weak as the Shah was in the mid-70s.

Given all that, the Americans see little reason to deal with President Mohammad Khatami, the supposed Iranian moderate. They regard him as an Iranian equivalent of some of the Eastern European leaders of the late 80s, in the final phase of the Soviet empire. Though they may have been improvements on their predecessors, those characters were mere interim figures who are now long forgotten. As Washington thinks the same fate will shortly overtake Mr Khatami, there seems little point in wasting time on him.

Yasser Arafat is being subjected to a similar assessment. Before my trip to Washington, I wondered whether there might be any enthusiasm for imposing a peace on Israel/Palestine. I quickly discovered the answer: none whatsoever. The Americans believe that before any peace deal is possible, there will have to be significant changes on the ground, with a much greater willingness on both sides to embrace a spirit of compromise.

They also believe that Israel's efforts to restore law and order in the Palestinian areas may not be counterproductive, in that they will remind the Palestinians about the realities of power. The recent suicide bomb killings had a considerable effect on American opinion, especially when Prime Minister Ariel Sharon pointed out that the equivalent for the US would be the murder of 2,000 civilians.

The Americans have also lost all faith in Mr Arafat's ability to deliver. "What about the risk of Hamas winning elections on the West Bank?" I would enquire. My interlocutors were not convinced that this was necessarily a risk. If Hamas came to power, I was informed, it would have to deal with the world as it is, not as it would wish. After all, it was Menachem Begin who handed Sinai back at the first Camp David. Perhaps it will take a Hamas equivalent of Mr Begin to lead the Palestinians into a lasting settlement with Israel.

To Europeans, all of this sounds optimistic – and some of it sounds naive. But it reflects a new mood in Washington: a superpower stung to anger and then to action, determined to exert its strength and to minimise its future vulnerability. Once or twice I mentioned something which Julian Amery told me years ago. "Would you rather be America's friend or America's enemy?" he had enquired of one Arab ruler. There was a pause, and then came the answer. "An enemy. America often appeases its enemies. It always betrays its friends."

The Americans to whom I quoted Lord Amery's remarks always gave the same reply: "Do not worry. Those days are over."