LONDON LETTER: They pronounced him politically dead but those who danced on the grave of the twice-resigned minister might now be reaching for a cross and a clove of garlic, writes Frank Millar.
Labour thrilled during last year's election when Baroness Thatcher proclaimed the Mummy's Return.
But fear and apprehension are sweeping the government benches now that the Downing Street undertakers have disinterred the body and found the former Northern Ireland Secretary alive and screaming.
Is Peter Mandelson on his way back?
Did he ever really go away? Cynicism rules, nowhere more so than in the ranks of former Labour ministers. Certainly the news that Number 10 had asked Sir Anthony Hammond to re-open his inquiry into the Hinduja passport affair which prompted Mr Mandelson's second fall from grace last year left the former Defence Minister, Peter Kilfoyle, in no doubt. Absolutely sure the Hartlepool MP was being prepared for another return to office, he ruefully remarked: "It appears Mr Mandelson is going to have more comebacks than Mike Tyson but without the latter's personal charm."
Capturing the same mood of menace, the brilliant Andrew Rawnsley likens the reaction of other Labour MPs to "the fear and horror of Harry Potter and chums being told that the dark lord Voldemort is rising again".
Mr Mandelson claimed vindication from the first Hammond inquiry after suggestions he had acted informally in respect of a passport application for the wealthy Srichand Hinduja from who he had sought financial support for the Millennium Dome.
In an atmosphere of near-hysteria, Tony Blair's friend and ally found himself unceremoniously dumped, amid suspicions that Number 10's primary concern was to extricate itself from potential embarrassment over its own contacts with the controversial Indian businessmen.
Those suspicions were fuelled, moreover, by Mr Blair's insistence - even on Peter Mandelson's blackest day - that he remained a bigger man than many of his detractors.
If less than clear about why his friend had actually been sacrificed by what Mr Mandelson himself considered a kangaroo court, the Prime Minister insisted they were both now clear there was no question of a further return to the Cabinet.
Labour MPs - including many who might never have won seats without Mr Mandelson's contribution to the new Labour creation - reportedly drank the commons' bars dry of champagne in celebration.
Now a stiff whiskey might be the order of the day as they ponder the meaning of the second Hammond inquiry - sparked by the discovery of a lost civil service memo apparently showing Mr Mandelson consulted officials for advice when asked in June 1998 to make an inquiry at the Home Office about the procedures for obtaining a British passport for Srichand Hinduja - and its potential to revive the ministerial career of one of the most able, charismatic and divisive figures in the New Labour firmament.
But we are getting ahead of the game. Reports yesterday suggested the new inquiry might actually backfire on Mr Mandelson as another witness, a former assistant to Srichand Hinduja, has asked Sir Anthony to re-examine his evidence concerning two meetings between the former minister and the tycoon.
So will "the smoking gun" proffered by that lost memo see Mr Mandelson restored to glory, or finally finish him off ?
Apparently we shall know within weeks, and it is good that we should. Mr Blair is off to Africa, that stain on the conscience of the world.
However, some commentators here always felt the circumstances of Mr Mandelson's removal left a stain or at any rate a serious question mark against the character of New Labour.
After all, if friends could be despatched with such brutality, how might this government be expected to treat its enemies?