Readers of Rory Stewart’s memoir, “Politics on the Edge”, are given a sense of what it must be like for a Parisian to come across a sweating, vomiting and disillusioned Japanese visitor. “Paris syndrome” can strike tourists who have spent years dreaming of the French capital, only to be sent insane by the reality of a city that contains the Louvre as well as homelessness, public urination and dog poo. Mr Stewart, a former cabinet minister and poster boy of centrist Britons, suffers from Westminster syndrome. Years of longing for a career in politics led to impossible expectations. The reality turned Mr Stewart a bit mad.

Indignities are heaped on the ex-soldier, alleged spook, acclaimed writer and former Harvard professor. David Cameron, then the prime minister, was unfussed that a man with a glittering cv wished to be an mp. After Mr Stewart’s maiden speech, in which he compared himself to Scott of the Antarctic, no one cheered. A government whip refused Mr Stewart, who had been a member of the conference-hopping global elite, permission to attend Bilderberg. When Mr Stewart reached ministerial office, he found amateurism, obstinacy and arse-covering by superiors and underlings. To cap it off, upon leaving the Foreign Office, he discovered his father’s antique Chinese vases had been pinched.

Mr Stewart’s memoir is only the splashiest of a trio of books published this month that reveal the psyche of his moderate, anti-populist and centrist ilk. Theresa May, the prime minister Mr Stewart most admired, produced a stolid book on the “The Abuse of Power”. David Gauke, a former cabinet minister whom Mr Stewart lathers in praise, has edited a collection of essays titled “The Case For The Centre Right”.

Each abhors the rise of “populism” and what has happened to the Conservative Party. Each despairs at how Brexit was handled and loathes Boris Johnson, who rose to power via half-truths, full-lies and low cunning (and who kicked Mr Stewart and Mr Gauke out of the party). Each writes with the impotent fury of a toddler who has had just had their sandcastle stamped on by a tubby, blond brother. Above all, each shares contempt for the often grubby but always needed art of politics.

In the trio’s telling, cynical politics is at the heart of Britain’s problems. In his book, Mr Gauke tuts when a Brexiteer colleague waits for the most damaging moment to come out for Leave. Mr Stewart’s perfect vision of Westminster is one unsullied by petty party politics. Politicians spend too long trying to be mps and then too long sucking up to party leaders, in the knowledge that principle and career progression are opposites in Westminster. In short, politicians spend too much time on politics.

Oddly for someone who rose to the top of politics, Mrs May hates it. In “The Abuse of Power”, she spells out how MPs abused their position in refusing to pass her Brexit deal. By refusing her deal, Labour put itself ahead of the national interest, complains Mrs May. So did the Conservative mps who thought it was too much of a break with Europe. As did the Conservative mps who thought it left Britain shackled to the eu. What Mrs May terms the abuse of power is simply a failure of politics. Mrs May was a politician. It was her job to convince them. She failed.

Likewise, a naive view of the political past leads to a naive view of the present. Mr Gauke deplores the divisive politics of Brexit, arguing that it rubs against the stable and certain politics that Conservatives stand for. Yet such stability was absent during the 1980s when Margaret Thatcher launched her righteous war against trade unions and a left-wing Labour Party. Mr Johnson’s divisive politics was a return rather than an aberration. The sin of centrists is that they think they are above politics, dealing in a realm of objective truths rather than a bare-fisted scrap over power.

Seeing politics as a problem rather than an answer means that Mr Stewart comes up with solutions that are both unlikely and unnecessary. In his view a radical overhaul of Parliament is in order: slash the number of mps to 100, with all but crucial national matters decided at a local level. Knotty problems should be thrown to Citizens’ Assemblies, because random juries of voters would succeed where professional politicians fail. Proportional representation would loosen the chokehold the Conservatives and Labour have on British democracy.

A far easier path is available for moderate Conservatives who wish to improve the country: take back control of their party. Conservative mps are followers rather than thinkers. In the past decade alone, the bulk of them have shifted from being austere metro-liberals under Mr Cameron to spendthrift Brexiteers under Mr Johnson, with a brief stint as One Nation-types under Mrs May. A moderate turn would be followed just as meekly.

If you can’t join them, beat them

The blueprint already exists. Under Jeremy Corbyn, Labour was in hock to its radical wing; now, under Sir Keir Starmer, the centrists rule supreme. When running for leader, Sir Keir promised Corbynism without Corbyn to appeal to Labour’s leftie members. Almost all these policies—from higher taxes on high earners to nationalised utilities—have since been ditched. Jeremy Corbyn, under whom Sir Keir served, was kicked out of the party. Sir Keir’s tenure as Labour leader is a performance of breathtaking political cynicism that Mr Stewart, Mrs May and Mr Gauke would deplore and Mr Johnson would applaud. Yet the result is that moderates now run Labour. Low politics put Sir Keir in a high place.

For comparison, Mrs May sits dutifully in the Commons, hoping an arched eyebrow here and there will be enough. Mr Gauke was mooted as a potential prime minister. He now moonlights as a freelance journalist for the New Statesman, a political magazine. Mr Stewart left Parliament in 2019, writes entertaining books and hosts a popular podcast. By contrast, Sir Keir is likely to occupy Downing Street. Perhaps grubby politics is worth it after all. ■

Read more from Bagehot, our columnist on British politics:
Britons should watch GB News, carefully (Aug 31st)
Britons are not all in it together (whatever they might think) (Aug 23rd)
What happens to comedy when British politics becomes a joke? (Aug 17th)

Also: How the Bagehot column got its name