The subtitle of the English edition of Rory Stewart’s book Politics on the Edge is ‘A memoir from within’. In the US edition, it is ‘How not to be a politician’. The latter is true to character – Stewart does not conform to the model of many of our less-worthy MPs, and frankly that is to his credit.
Stewart appears to be his own man: intelligent, honourable and gifted, with a drive and energy that mean he has already achieved more in his 51 years than five ordinary mortals might together achieve in a lifetime. In a newspaper article for the Mail on Sunday in June 2019, Ruth Davidson (former leader of the Conservatives in Scotland) expressed the view that:
“Rory’s the sort of man who you believe could not only explain the finer points of Plato’s Republic… but he could also do so while repairing a car engine with little more than a wrench, a pair of tights and some baling twine”.
Ups and down, in Politics on the Edge
For me, reading this book put me on an emotional roller coaster. The highs came from Stewart rising to every challenge and seeking to use his intelligence, evidence (and sometimes his good connections) to get the best result possible. The early chapters deal with his work as a newly elected MP for Penrith and the Borders and his determination to do the best for his constituency. Greatly improving the local broadband availability was one project but more testing was (as the responsible junior minister) dealing with the floods that hit the country in 2012.
Early in his parliamentary career Stewart had a very bad experience of being ‘monstered’ by social media, The Mail on Sunday, etc. Something that he had said was both misreported and taken out of context and the media circus thought it great fun to inflict the maximum pain. He writes:
“It seems ridiculous recording it now – but for the only time in my life I briefly considered killing myself.”
Stewart’s heroes and villains
The author is the quiet, understated hero of his own book and there are other heroes to come, but we also have villains.
As parliamentary undersecretary for the environment and rural affairs Stewart reported to Liz Truss as his boss. One weekend Stewart was with his father who was failing and held his hand as the latter passed away.
“Back in London Liz Truss asked me how my weekend had been. I explained that my father had died. She paused for a moment, nodded and then asked when my twenty-five-year environment plan would be ready.”
The biggest villain as perceived by the author was Boris Johnson. With Theresa May about to stand down as PM, a number of Conservative MPs threw their hats in the ring to succeed her, including both Stewart and Johnson. Stewart writes:
“The centre of my campaign was against him. He seemed the only truly dangerous one of the candidates. He alone could cloak a darker narrative in clowning. He alone allowed the public to indulge ever more offensive opinions under the excuse that some of it might be a joke.”
Other villains include Michael Gove, Matt Hancock, and Gavin Williamson, but the list could go on and on. Each of these MPs shared the same characteristics: they were duplicitous, self-seeking and generally untrustworthy.
Who, then, were the good guys? Stewart had an excellent working relationship with David Gauke, who comes across as solid, honest and disinterested. Gauke was ever calm under pressure – just the right person to have in your trench. Other MPs who emerge with credit (and Stewart’s affection) from this book include Nicholas Soames and Ken Clarke.
Like Stewart, all three were happy to badge themselves as ‘One Nation Conservatives’. They might come across as paternalistic, but at the same time they sought to promote social and economic programmes designed to benefit the ordinary person, while advocating the preservation of the established institutions and traditional principles within a political democracy.
Improving the prisons
In his nine years in parliament Stewart was promoted into a number of different roles as a result of reshuffles. The book leads us through all these dizzying changes, but two in particular deserve some comment – prisons and Brexit.
As newly appointed prisons minister Stewart inherited a system that was disastrously dysfunctional. Reports from HM Inspector of Prisons were an indictment – rising levels of violence and drug taking in situations of overcrowding and squalor. Stewart staked his reputation on turning things around – if things did not improve, he would resign.
With typical Stewart determination and elan he set up his ‘Ten Prisons Project’ – focused on the ten worst prisons. He set out to enlist the support of prison governors and their staff. This he gained. (In setting up his ‘Ten Prisons’ team the author recruited an army brigadier to bring organisation and drive. Previously had had recruited another brigadier to help with his flood emergency operations centre. Both appointments were very successful but might not have been made by a less imaginative and resourceful minister.)
Under Stewart, the state of prisons improved and he was not obliged to resign as a minister.
Brexit … no improvement (yet)
Correctly anticipating that Brexit would prove a disaster for the farmers in his constituency, Stewart voted remain. Having lost the vote, he chose to honour the outcome and moved to bringing about a moderate Brexit, arguing that the UK should remain within the European customs union. Stewart had considerable sympathy with May’s attempts to avoid the harshest Brexit and lent her his support. In this he was strongly opposed to the hard liners of the European Research Group who were even prepared to countenance a ‘no deal’ exit, which for Stewart was anathema.
Stewart’s attempts at mitigating Brexit won him some harsh enemies. He was badged as a traitor. The book recalls Stewart standing on a tube platform when a well-dressed man approached, put his face close to Rory’s and uttered the singled word “c**t”. The man promptly turned on his heel and marched away with a smile of ‘job done’ on his face.
Stewart’s account of the leadership campaign to succeed May as PM is both fascinating and depressing – British politics at its worst. Reviewing the book, the critic Rafael Behr gave praise for the writer’s “… combination of insight, humanity, self-awareness and style”, while Marina Hyde assessed the book as “one of the most devastating insider accounts of Westminster I have ever read”. The former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, sees the book as “an excoriating picture of a shamefully dysfunctional political culture”.
Was Rory Stewart the best Conservative prime minister of the 2020s that we never had? For my money he would have been head and shoulders above Johnson, Truss and Sunak. I can strongly recommend Politics on the Edge – and reading it might prompt me to write a follow-up piece on ‘why is UK politics in such a mess?’.
