A Timely Warning Of The Dangers From Populist Leaders

In a fascinating recent interview with The Times, Rory Stewart, sometime soldier, diplomat, academic and Conservative minister, made this telling observation: “You can’t be an MP and continue to think of yourself as Alexander the Great.” The comment is all the more interesting because earlier in the piece the interviewer reflected that what fascinated her about Stewart was “his 24-carat belief not just in his own talents or even his right to lead, but that he is destined for greatness.”

Stewart is an interview subject now because, in addition to having a new book out, he is — in a sort of Odd Couple pairing — co-host with former Labour Party spin doctor Alastair Campbell of a highly popular podcast called The Rest is Politics. A candidate in the Conservative Party leadership election that brought Boris Johnson to power, Stewart is highly critical of his fellow Old Etonian, calling him in the interview “a very, very bad person, a complete disgrace.” Such views make him appealing to a tranche of people who want to look beyond party politics. But if Stewart is something of a maverick, he is clearly a traditionalist who is not likely to challenge the way things are done.

Contrast that with Johnson, who with Donald Trump is featured in Big Caesars and Little Caesars, a recently published book by the veteran political commentator Ferdinand Mount. In equal measure, highly informative and hugely entertaining, the book is a reminder that dictators have long been, and continue to be, a threat to democracy. There is much discussion of the likes of Roman Emperor Augustus and Julius Caesar as well as Oliver Cromwell, Adolf Hitler, Napoleon and his nephew, Louis-Napoleon. But it is clear that the real objects of Mount’s disapproval are those modern-day populists, Johnson and Trump. At one point he writes that “the Caesar has been a pioneer in the use of new media,” adding: “His delight in the visual image is no accident. The Caesar thrives in the moment; he is the enemy of long-winded statutes and codes of law and practice, and the king of the photo opportunity.”

Pointing out “the discomfiting thought” that Caesars “may pop up in any country and under all sorts of political and economic circumstances,” Mount argues, however, that there are broad similarities between how they set out to acquire power and how they behave once they have it.

Elites may agonize over how voters are taken in by the likes of Johnson and Trump with their claims of how they will champion “ordinary people” and stand up for them against globalization and other threats. But they should be mindful of Mount’s over-riding message that those who value the rule of law need to be ever-watchful.

The court cases now piling up against Trump and the ousting of Johnson by a rebellion within his own party are signs that the rot can be stopped, albeit rather later than might be ideal. But Mount clearly believes that, far from being the hindrance to modern society that the likes of Trump and Johnson imply, elected assemblies and their privileges are a powerful bulwark against the abuse of power. Moreover, as forums of debate they are far more effective in bringing about change than any manifestos forced through by hero leaders. Calling Parliament “a mere talking shop” is not an insult, he says, but “the highest of compliments. It is the mark of Caesars and would-be Caesars that they itch to cut short the debate.”

It is perhaps encouraging that Alastair Campbell, who was not always keen to hear the other side of the argument when he was Tony Blair’s spokesman, and Rory Stewart have found a way to discuss the current political situation without sticking to party lines. And it is even more so that enough people are listening to make the exercise apparently financially rewarding for the participants. But Mount warns that nobody should take this generosity of spirit for granted.