The opening shots have been fired, the first skirmishes conducted, the battle lines drawn, for what might prove a long campaign with no certain outcome.
No, this is not a prediction for the general election being touted for every conceivable Thursday between now and May 3rd. Though, by the by, there are still some in Conservative Central Office who can just about recall 1970, when Harold Wilson sat on a majority of 100 and seemed a certain shoe-in for a second term. True, there seems little likelihood this time of devaluation or England losing the World Cup (the latter a preferred explanation among Labour's high command at the time).
Even so, the railways are in a mess, police numbers have been falling, some inner London schools face a four-day week because of a teacher shortage, while indirect taxes have gone up and Mr Tony Blair is obliged to press for a second term in order to realise the fruits of his first. Moreover, analysis of votes cast in more than 1,000 council elections suggests the general election result could be a lot closer than most people currently imagine.
But time enough for that. The battle in question is that shaping up between the Blair government and London's mayor, "Red Ken" Livingstone.
There has been no evidence of looney-tunery since Mr Livingstone's famous victory last May. Indeed, all those meetings with City types and photographs in the company of royalty have encouraged the notion that New Ken has opted for New Labour-style "big tent" politics.
However, it was the old beast of the left marauding around the tent on Tuesday, pledging to join Underground workers on picket lines in a strike action which could paralyse the Tube.
The Tories were quick to say Mr Livingstone was merely "paying off a political debt to left-wing unions" who backed his mayoral campaign against the Labour Party machine. And at first glance it certainly appears a high-risk strategy. Mr Livingstone likes popularity every bit as much as the Prime Minister. And, as the fuel protesters quickly discovered, public opinion can prove a mighty fickle thing.
Standing on the platform at Embankment reading his "salute" for trade unionists preparing for action "not to increase their pay, not to improve their conditions but to improve the safety of Londoners", I wondered if even he could sell that line. (The counter-argument is already joined: that the unions are out to protect their own job security come the advent of the government's promised public/private partnership.) And with all the hassle and delays already afflicting rail-users, could he be right to think "Londoners will support this strike because it is about safety", and regardless of the further inconvenience caused?
Upon joining the Northern "Misery" Line for what proved to be a particularly unpleasant journey, however, the idea of mass public revolt suddenly seemed somewhat less unlikely. A number of us had placed ourselves strategically at the end of the platform, thinking to increase our chances of getting on but with no expectation, naturally, of finding a seat.
However, the sheer numbers already on board suggested any attempt to join the first train would ensure instant involuntary expulsion. Willpower propelled us on to the next, some 22 of us crammed at one end between the doors, sardine-like, grappling for overhead supports, without space to read any more of Ken's revolt, or Prof Anthony Clare's Evening Standard offering on coping with commuter stress.
Stressful, yes. Disgusting, certainly. And, surely, dangerous. Pressed against the small window gasping for air, the thoughts force themselves involuntarily. What if there was an accident? Or even a protracted delay? And people panicked? And this before the disclosure that equipment in a key Underground control room was so out-dated officials had to approach a museum for a spare part.
It doesn't bear thinking about, and there certainly is no mystery that people choose to ignore this government and use their cars. The government may be entitled to argue that years of neglect and under-investment cannot be instantly reversed, and the mayor may have misjudged the public mood. But Londoners might prefer Mr Livingstone's fund-by-bond today, to the perpetual promise of jam tomorrow. And in this election year, the Blair government's response will be instructive.