Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi (L) is welcomed on stage by British Prime Minister David Cameron at Wembley Stadium | Getty wembley sketch Narendra Modi wins at Wembley The Indian prime minister, with Cameron in tow, wows a massive London crowd.

LONDON — Had there ever been a gathering like it? There may have been bigger crowds to greet a foreign leader on British soil — perhaps Obama, or JFK, or Gandhi. But they certainly didn’t have their own theme song.

On a crisp winter afternoon in north London, an estimated 60,000 British Indians packed into Wembley Stadium for a rally in honor of Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Well, “rally” is a polite way of putting it. The show, organized by a group of Anglo-Indian luminaries including Lord Noon, the man who brought chicken tikka masala to the masses, was more of an extravaganza.

“We will challenge India’s Hitler.”

Throughout the afternoon, the crowds streamed toward the famous soccer stadium — smiling, wearing Modi-themed scarves and jesters’ hats, even plastic Modi face masks, all pausing to take selfies or, more often, family portraits. They were of all ages and all classes, mostly coming in families or as whole clans; most of those I spoke to were from London, but many had come from farther afield. The only white face belonged to a disgruntled ticket tout, who wasn’t getting any customers.

The mood was deliriously festive — appropriately, given the promixity to the Diwali festivities. A handful of protestors, in turbans and hoodies bearing the logo “#SikhLivesMatter” tried to educate the crowds about Modi’s — and India’s — history of disharmony, carrying placards with slogans like: “We will challenge India’s Hitler.” A few young men surrounded them, shouting: “Modi! Modi! Modi!” One Hindu, when challenged with “Do you know about what happened in 1984?” (a reference to the anti-Sikh violence that rocked New Delhi and elsewhere after the assassination of Indira Gandhi), responded repeatedly and angrily: “It was the past! It was the past!” But the vast majority of the crowd simply walked by, unperturbed.

* * *

So what had brought them here? Most were simply excited that “their” prime minister — as they referred to Modi, no matter where they were born — had finally come to Britain, that he was celebrating the bonds between their old home and their new one. Many also admired Modi personally: for his career in his home state, especially his support of women and the poor; for his lack of corruption; for not being a creature of the Congress party; for doing his bit to assert India on the world stage.

Above all, there was a sense that this was multicultural in the best sense. No one I spoke to felt any conflict between their Indian and British identity: they were happy to celebrate both.

Cue the show itself, with thousands of chairs behind the stage colored to match the Indian flag. Here, the common culture of Britain and India was truly on show — chiefly, a shared love of thumping bass beats and dancers in scantily clad costumes (who somehow managed to remain cheerful despite the biting cold).

With the event getting started at 2.30 p.m., but Modi not on stage until 5 p.m., what the crowd essentially got was an extended edition of India’s Got Talent. There were a few nods to culture and tradition — demonstrations of dancing and yoga — but all were backed by dazzling light shows and uptempo music. Alisha Chinai’s ‘Made In India’ got an especially ecstatic reception, as did a funked-up version of ‘Oh When The Saints’, played on pipes and drums by the Shree Muktajeevan Pipe Band, and a set by local (Sikh) boy, Jay Sean.

In between the acts, peppy announcers shouted encouragement at the crowd: “You are an asset in Britain! Britain is proud of you!” There were young athletes waving Indian and British flags, which were mirrored in the vast Indian patterns, known as rangoli, covering the stadium pitch. The prevailing aesthetic seemed to be Triumph of the Will, as directed by Simon Cowell — something reinforced when the host shouted: “Are you ready to receive Him?” (You could sense the capitals.) “Are you ready to welcome Him?”

The crowd roared its approval.

* * *

The chants began again: “Modi! Modi! Modi!” They played “Jai Ho” from Slumdog Millionaire. Camera lights flickered and waved. People holding flags stood up and started dancing along in the aisles. The show was running behind schedule, but there was still more dancing, more singing, plus a painful comedy routine about Neil Armstrong landing on the Moon and finding a Gujarati with a corner shop already there. The crowd started to get restive: they wanted politicians, not pop stars.

It’s safe to say David Cameron has never been cheered by so many people, so loudly.

Finally, the main action: a video extolling Modi and his works, a crowd of schoolchildren waving flags, and backstage footage of the man himself along with David and Samantha Cameron, greeting the volunteers (Sam Cam in an extremely fetching sari). Sam peeled away, and then… well, it’s safe to say David Cameron has never been cheered by so many people, so loudly. “A historic moment,” shouted the Anglo-Indian journalist Mihir Bose in the press box as the national anthems played. “The first time a foreign anthem hasn’t been booed at Wembley.”

***

Cameron served as the warm-up man, relegated to sidekick status in his own country. But he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. For him, this was free — and invaluable — publicity. His election victory in 2015 was built, in part, on Indian votes: the party’s sustained effort not only saw it eclipse Labour among Sikhs and Hindus, but resulted in this impeccably catchy campaign video (just wait for the chorus). Interestingly, after his initial greeting — “Namaste, Wembley!” — he got more applause for lines about India’s present greatness (Modi dining with him on equal terms at Chequers, the Thames being colored orange, white and green) than for the references to Mahatma Gandhi.

“I hope, Prime Minister Modi, you can see what I see everyday,” said Cameron. “British Indians putting the ‘Great’ into ‘Great Britain.’” After a shout-out to the Indian state of Gujarat, to which a majority in the audience belonged, he had to stop for at least 10 seconds due to the ecstatic response. The same with his promise that a British Indian may soon be prime minister of the U.K. And as for his pledge to help India get a permanent seat on the U.N. Security Council… if there were a roof on Wembley, it would have been blown off by the noise.

And then… well. Three years ago, British diplomats weren’t even allowed to talk to this man . Now, he was getting a welcome at the home of English football that would be the envy of any rock star. In his speech itself, there was an oblique reference to this: “A lot of water has gone down the Thames” since his last visit, he said.

***

So what did he say? That India “has the capacity to fulfil its dreams.” That its young population can build a country without poverty. That David Cameron is a thoroughly good chap, who really likes British Indians, and whose love for India shines through.

It was not so much a speech as a rolling series of slow, stately declamations (delivered in Hindi, with English translation available via headphones). He praised India’s diversity, singling out its Sikh community — though I’m not sure how grateful the guys in the hoodies outside would have been. He praised Islam — at least the Sufi strain of it, with its non-violent traditions. He stressed his poverty-fighting credentials, especially as an educator of women, promising to bring electricity to India’s 18,000 poorest villages within 1,000 days. He asked for the crowd’s blessing for that pledge. It’s safe to say he got it.

Above all, Modi made the crowd feel good about themselves, and about India. The country, he said, was no longer an inferior: it stands at the same level as other nations. The cheering began again: “Modi! Modi! Modi!” Terrorism and global warming could, he said, be solved if everyone listened to Gandhi a little more. There was an extended metaphor involving rupee bonds, James Bond and Brooke Bond tea: one provides entertainment, one refreshment and one development. Cut to Dave and Sam in the stands, laughing heartily.

His main theme was “progress and development:” the one English phrase that cropped up, again and again, was “foreign direct investment.” The rupee bond, he said, would go towards fixing the railways.

Otherwise, he bounced from topic to topic. The world’s faith in India was growing, Modi said. India would start to build its own weapons, rather than importing them from overseas. But it would also lead the world in solar energy, alongside other nations who wanted to join its new club of producers (a sort of OPEC of solar panels?). Then he was on to global warming, then his efforts to clean up the economy: India is now not only growing faster than China, he said, but is less corrupt too. There was even the traditional blast at the media for misrepresenting — and underestimating — India.

By now the speech had been going on for more than an hour, and the audience were beginning to develop advanced symptoms of frostbite. But they were still cheering and waving their scarves when the opportunity arose: for instance, with the praise for a man called Imran Khan from Alwar, who has made 50 apps to help students. Or when he promised to address the disadvantages faced by Indians living overseas in dealing with their home government — in particular, the visa system.

Admittedly, the 10-minute lecture on its intricacies felt slightly surplus to requirements. But the promise of direct flights from London to Ahmedabad, the Gujarati capital, from December 15 — with a gracious nod to Cameron for making it happen — brought another deafening cheer.

* * *

By this time Modi was getting looser, even as the audience stiffened with cold (Cameron, in the cutaways, looked particularly miserable — surely Modi had to be wearing a thermal vest?). An extended stunt with a (non-digital) watch — apparently you can switch between Indian and British time zones just by flipping it round — led into his peroration. “As long as the sun and the moon exist, as long as time exists, the ties between India and the U.K. will continue to grow!” His audience might have British passports, he said, but they had Indian blood, and would forever be embraced as such.

After 90 minutes, it was over. Modi led the crowd in bellowing their affection for India. More music blared out as he slowly walked round the stadium edge in the spotlight, waving to the audience. Then, at long last, he made it back to the stage; a group of children gathered round the button with him; and the skies above Wembley lit up with fireworks.

It had been a long, strange day — a heady blend of pop, patriotism and propaganda. And none of the 60,000 people in the stands would have missed it for the world.

Robert Colvile is a former head of comment at the Daily Telegraph and was most recently news director of BuzzFeed U.K.