JOHN McCain was on the ropes, behind in the polls, failing to counter the relentless energy and optimism of his opponent, one Barack Obama.

As polling day grew closer, the desperate Republican candidate threw a televised Town Hall meeting for his most diehard followers.

And, oh boy, did some grassroots conservatives dislike the Democrat contender. Mr Obama was “Arab”, said one. He “cohorted” with terrorists, whatever that was supposed to mean, added another.

Something very important then happened. Mr McCain took the mike from the haters and calmly told his followers they had nothing to fear from an Obama presidency. His rival, he said, was "a decent, family man”.

You have probably seen these scenes. Every now and again they go viral on social media like artefacts from some lost, ancient civilisation or get broadcast on TV as a nostalgiafest for a gentler age.

But they are not *that* old. They are from 2008.

Mr McCain – who, remember, survived torture in a North Vietnamese prison – lost the presidential race but, until his death in 2018, went on to harry Mr Obama’s replacement, Donald Trump.

In a tough campaign Mr McCain refused to indulge racism. And then, in the face of real resistance from his own party, he stood up for democratic values against a man who rejected them. We need more McCains. A lot more, and not just in America.

Around the world leaders of the centre-right face a huge choice. They can be the the midwives of populism. Or a bulwark against it.

Take Italy. There a far-right leader, Giorgia Meloni, is in poll position to take the premiership later this month. She is the likely leader of a shoogly coalition that will include populists and something closer to actual conservatives. How did this happen? Well, a fair few commentators will say it is because the centre-right indulged the far and populist right. Before being usurped by them.

Fear in the English-Speaking world has focused on another danger: that conservative parties will move to the right rather than surrender the field to more radical rival parties.

This is what Joe Biden says has happened to the main right-wing party in America. The US president early this month said Mr Trump and the "MAGA Republicans” were a threat to democracy. He was right.

Mr Biden’s predecessor and many of his supporters have failed to distance themselves from the mob which stormed the US Capitol in pursuit of a lie that the 2020 election was stolen. “This is a nation that rejects violence as a political tool,” the president said. Did he have his fingers crossed when he was speaking?

A poll published shortly before he spoke found more than two out of five Americans thought a civil war was at least somewhat likely in the next decade.

This figure rises to more than half among those who identify as “strong Republicans”. US politics – like our own – can be profoundly unserious and partisan. And this is reflected in its polling. But these numbers ought to make Americans stop and think, especially about how they talk to and about each other.

There are, of course, US conservatives who continue the battle of John McCain for the ‘democratic’ soul of their party.

They are struggling.

Trump critic Liz Cheney, for example, lost her party’s nomination to fight to retain her Senate seat. Democrats are not helping. In fact, some on the US liberal left have literally been funding their least democratic foes because they think the far right is easier to beat than moderate conservatives. This remains an historic blunder.

There are people who think Scotland and the UK’s main party of the right has gone the same way as America’s. Or worry that it might. They too have reason: there is, thanks to the successful Brexit campaign, now a vein of chauvinistic nationalism running through the Conservatives.

But are the Tories totally lost? Or is the party still a broad enough church to resist the more populist elements? We shall see. But there are still plenty of democrats in the party. Now, with a new PM installed, is their time; they have to keep their movement on the straight and narrow.

Scottish Tory leader Douglas Ross, as an example, tried to call out Boris Johnson, though for the former prime minister’s poor character, not his dumb populism.

Sure, Mr Ross flipped and flopped over the issue and took some political heat as a result. But this at the very least suggests there was some discomfort among the Scottish right about what was happening in the wider UK party. Good.

There are challenges here too for liberals and social democrats, for Scottish nationalists and Greens. It is tempting to demonise all conservatives; to lump the centre-right with the populist or far right. It is especially difficult in Scotland’s hyper-partisan eco-system to credit your opponents. But Tories who reject populism need support, encouragement and respect. Even from those who do not share their ideology or views on the constitution.

There are simple tests coming up for Scottish Conservatives, tests of character and resolve in the face of British national chauvinism or populism.

Will they, for example, crack down on members, or even staffers, as we saw last week, who make false claims about Scotland’s minority languages and their speakers? Or will they tolerate or even indulge such vulgar, uneducated prejudices? How will they deal with those who seek to delegitimise the views of New Scots? Or those who – in a mirror image of cybernats of a decade ago – seek to undermine our free press?

There are plenty of mainstream Tories in Scotland who are uncomfortable with populist narratives and behaviours. This is the time for them to act. And their opponents need to give them the space to do so. Why? Because “good” conservatives – if you zoom far enough out – are allies of all democrats, left, right or centre.

There were opportunities for the Tories to dump populism during the summer leadership campaign. They were not taken.

There were even a few potential McCain moments. Remember when a Tory activist, somewhere in England, popped up and asked how potential leaders would “suppress” Nicola Sturgeon? Maybe the guy was just inarticulate. Maybe he was trying to be funny. He did, rather alarmingly, get a laugh.

What would a Tory version of a John McCain have said? Maybe something like this: “I believe in the union and that means believing in British values. That means I will not be suppressing anybody, even those who want to break up Britain.”