Why Miliband and Blair can now share a platform

As Blair has moderated his stance on the deficit, Miliband has opened his door.

Those understandably alarmed by the announcement that Tony Blair will return as an "adviser" to Labour will presumably be relieved to learn that his remit is limited to how Britain can maximise its "Olympic legacy". As Labour List's Mark Ferguson writes, "If the party is going to fall out over what Tony Blair thinks we should do with a velodrome, we’re in real trouble…". 

Yet the political symbolism of Ed Miliband's decision to share a platform with the former prime minister at last night's Labour fundraising dinner should not be underestimated. In the early months of Miliband's leadership, when he distanced the party from Blair's stances on Iraq, the economy, tuition fees and civil liberties, the two would never have appeared in such close proximity. Blair's memoir, A Journey, in which he echoed the coalition's stance on deficit reduction, was seen as confirmation of his toxic status.

But Blair has since privately indicated that he agrees with Ed Balls's critique of the government's austerity programme as self-defeating. In his view, the coalition is going "too far, too fast". As a result, Miliband is far more comfortable about appearing in public with Blair. Having already put clear red water between himself and the former prime minister, he is confident that Blair's return will not be seen as evidence of a shift to the right. 

Where Blair and Miliband continue to differ is on the future of capitalism. While Miliband believes the neoliberal model has fundamentally failed, Blair believes it can be revived. As the latter recently told the Evening Standard, "I understand that some people think the financial crisis has altered everything. And the mood is against this. Personally I don't think that's correct." But Blair is not alone in such thinking. While Miliband and Balls are at one on the need to limit austerity, the shadow chancellor is more sceptical of his leader's call for a new economic model.

Beyond this, one other thing is clear: Blair, like the rest of Westminster, has been forced to recognise Miliband as a potential future prime minister. As he said last night:

There is a rulebook in politics that goes something like this: Labour governs. Labour loses. Tories take over. Labour goes crazy. Tories carry on governing.

Time to re-write that script.

Actually it is being re-written by them and by us. They’re on their way down. We’re on our way up.

That Blair can now state with conviction that Labour, not the Tories, will win the next election is evidence of the transformation in Miliband's political fortunes.

Tony Blair talks with Ed Miliband during a service to mark the Diamond Jubilee. Photograph: Getty Images.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.

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He went in to report on crystal meth – before long, Luke Williams was hooked

The journalist moved into a house of meth addicts to investigate the drug. Within a month, he was using, too.

“I got a story, a very good story,” writes the young Australian journalist Luke Williams in the first chapter of his new book, The Ice Age. “Only it wasn’t the one I was expecting.” For three months in 2014, he lived in a house of crystal meth addicts in a suburb of Melbourne, Australia, to investigate the drug. Within a month, he had forgotten why he was there. He had become addicted himself.

What follows is a dizzying retelling of his experiences, which veers between stories of Williams’s psychotic episodes and facts about his drug of choice. His descent into addiction happened in a nondescript house in Pakenham, a suburb to the south-east of Melbourne – “one of the most badly affected meth areas in Australia”.

Williams, now 36, grew up nearby and went to school there. He already knew two meth users in the area well enough to rent a room with them – an out-of-work labourer called Smithy and his live-in ex-girlfriend Beck. It was they who gave Williams his first shot of crystal meth, less than three weeks into his stay.

The crystal form of methamphetamine, also known as “ice”, is an addictive and powerful stimulant that causes euphoria. It heightens alertness, energy and arousal, with comedowns that can lead to aggression and violence.

It has gained cultural significance in recent years because of the US television drama Breaking Bad, in which an otherwise mild-mannered and law-abiding chemistry teacher “cooks” and sells crystal meth. Yet not much is known about the long-term effects of the drug, which in some countries – such as the Czech Republic – is a graver problem than heroin. In the UK, crystal meth activity is low and mainly linked to the gay chemsex party scene, where drugs are used to enhance group sex experiences.


Photo: Scribe

The drug is linked to severe psychosis, which Williams experienced first hand. Detailed in his book in a neat little list, like a morbid twist on a teenage diary, are Williams’s delusions, entitled: “My psychotic ideas”. Some are harrowing. His conviction that his parents are trying to poison him, for example, which results in him threatening to kill them “with my bare f***ing hands”. Others are amusing: he abandons his journalistic endeavour almost immediately in the belief that his calling is to become a famous rap star.

“I think that I could maybe do spoken word, but rapping? No, no,” he chuckles, when he speaks to me via Skype from Nepal, where he is researching another story. He says that he wanted to investigate crystal meth use partly because he was bored. He had left journalism to work at a law firm, and his life “lacked a bit of kick”.

Although he describes himself as “white, middle-class [and] educated”, he was fixated by the characters from his youth on the city’s outskirts. “I missed [them] in the middle-class world; it seemed so polite and clean . . . I looked forward to getting back there, living cheap, and when I saw the state some of my friends were in, I was very curious to know what was going on with them. Nobody was writing about the working class and the underclass.”

Williams quickly shifted from observer to addict. In alarming and frank detail, his book tells of marathon masturbation sessions (his record was 16 hours), physical altercations and a thick fog of paranoia. He would search his name online and become convinced that anything written by, or about, the name “Luke Williams” involved him.

He became so obsessed with the memory of an ex-boyfriend called Nathaniel that he believed that Smithy had turned his ex “into a transsexual, so that he and his mates could have their way with the new female Nathaniel”.

After three months, Williams was kicked out of the house by an aggressive Smithy, who thought the journalist was stealing his cannabis (he wasn’t). The nearby hospital gave him no help, so Williams ended up on the streets. After a lot of persuasion, he eventually returned to safety with his parents. He has been recovering ever since.

There is talk of a crystal meth “epidemic” in rural and suburban areas of Australia, which has among the highest usage of the drug in the world. The number of people using it there tripled from 2011 to 2016, and 7 per cent of Australians over the age of 14 have reported using amphetamines or methamphetamines (in the UK, it’s 1 per cent).

Although Luke Williams’s story is an insight into one of the world’s most dangerous substances, it’s also a lesson in doing your research. The first time Williams took crystal meth, it was injected by one of his housemates and he believed that it was no different from powdered meth – more commonly known as speed – which he had been using occasionally to give him the energy to write.

The group called everything “meth”, regardless of what they were taking. “Our lingo just didn’t differentiate,” Williams tells me. “People don’t really understand the difference. I got the opportunity to say in the public domain that [crystal meth] is different . . . It eats away at your inside.”

The Ice Age: A Journey Into Crystal-Meth Addiction by Luke Williams is published by Scribe.

Anoosh Chakelian is deputy web editor at the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era