Monsieur Zen was, for once, all fired up.

The normally laid back, chilled out Leader of HM Opposition was among comrades, cheering and whooping comrades, who came to pay homage to the hairy Leftie in all his socialist glory.

It seems Jezza appears in places where he knows he will be loved and the campus of Bradford University provided a suitable adoring audience. Indeed, as proceedings got under way, one enthusiastic comrade could not help himself, stood up and started chanting "Corbyn, Corbyn."

The venue's high atrium meant the backdrop to the chief comrade's socialist soliloquy was gallery upon gallery of cheering students. It looked impressive.

The loved-up leader plonked himself in the centre of a metallic frame, surrounded by arc lights. Around the star attraction were draped Labour slogans; "fair deal at work", "extending democracy", "secure homes for all" and, of course, "for the many, not the few".

Thanks to the infamous leak, we already had had sight of the main features of the manifesto and Jezza joked that some people might find some of his speech rather familiar. But his admirers roared with approval as the Labour chief read out his plans to make the richest pips squeak, to spend more billions on health, education and welfare and to renationalise the railways.

Of course, the roof nearly came off when the loved-up one mentioned how Labour would scrap tuition fees. Many of his audience jumped up and down with delight.

It was noticeable, however, that several members of the Shadow Cabinet appeared not to be as enthusiastic as some of the adoring activists and seemed at times to be clapping through gritted teeth. Did one get the slightest sense that, despite the hoop-la, they were thinking: "We're doomed."

Such was the passion in the room that when it came to the Q&A session and one journalist asked a perfectly acceptable question on immigration, he was booed. Jezza had to interject to urge members of the adoring audience to show some respect to HM Press.

Another hack put it to the chief comrade that all he wanted to do was tax, spend and borrow, to which one woman shouted: "Yes. Yes. Yes."

And when one reporter pointed out how many of the public might like some of Labour's policies but didn't much like its leader, the audience growled angrily. One woman piped up: "We love you Jeremy." The loved one beamed back, no doubt thinking: "I love me too."

Mr C dismissed the Conservative criticism suggesting the Labour manifesto would take the UK back to the 1970s with a neat put-down.

"They are going to bring back fox hunting and grammar schools. That sounds really 21st century, doesn't it?" His audience loved it.

Finally with a flourish, a wide-eyed Jezza whipped out his little red book with the words "for the many, not the few" emblazoned on it and insisted leadership was not about dictating but about listening and understanding. This was met by yet another wave of love and applause.

Then it was, as one aide put it, "stelfie time". The head Red left the stage and found himself surrounded by adoring socialists all wanting a snap with their spiritual leader.

Monsieur Zen was on Cloud Nine, soaking up the love; beaming uncontrollably. Whether or not, the wider electorate will show him the love come June 9 is, of course, another question entirely.