The world after Bush

Former UK ambassador to the US, Christopher Meyer, predicts more continuity than change from the US

It’s fairly clear that Gordon Brown is waiting for a new president to set a pattern for British-American relations over the next few years. The signals sent from London have been those of cool distance from George W. Bush. Tony Blair’s "hug them close" approach is dead and buried, at least until January 2009 and the inauguration of Bush’s successor.

I cannot recall any American President attracting the obloquy abroad suffered by George W. Bush. From the very beginning it went wrong, with a French newspaper talking in 2000 of the “cretinisation” of American politics, a view widely held in Britain too. A brief comeback for his reputation, which surfed a wave of sympathy for America after 9/11, was rapidly aborted by hostility to the war in Iraq. There is nothing easier today than to raise a laugh in public at Bush’s expense (actually that’s not true – Don Rumsfeld is an even easier target). This is not the kind of leader with whom Brown wants to be intimately associated.

The near-universal disdain for Bush is a big factor driving the unusual level of British interest in the American elections. Of course, there is a lot else besides. Obama-mania has crossed the Atlantic. People are intrigued at the possibility of a woman in the White House. The absence of an obvious Republican front-runner has added to the spice. Then there is the joker in the pack: the possible third-party candidacy of New York Mayor, Michael Bloomberg, just when increasing numbers of Americans are registering as independent voters at the expense of the two big parties.

With a black and a woman in contention, there is on both sides of the Atlantic an expectation of change, big change, in 2009. This has driven all the candidates, Democratic and Republican, to resort to the rhetoric of change. But, as Michael Kinsley tartly noted in the New York Times, “change sounds dynamic without committing you to anything in particular. Any slogan shared by Barack Obama and Mitt Romney is going to be pretty meaningless.”

In Britain we would do well to temper our hopes for change after the passing of Bush. Let us assume, as the US Federal Reserve and Treasury do, that the American economy weakens further this year. Let us also assume – a more uncertain bet – that Iraq continues relatively quiet, with low American casualties, even as the “surge” recedes. Come election day in November the overwhelming concern of Americans will be the economy, with a particular focus on jobs and immigration. Globalisation and free trade are already seen as destroying, to coin a phrase, American jobs for American workers. On this analysis, “change” points to greater economic nationalism with the emphasis on “fair” trade at the expense of free trade. To borrow again from Kinsley, that would in reality be protection from change. For us in Britain it would be change for the worse.

But economic nationalism is not isolationism. The United States is too tightly enmeshed in the affairs of the world for that. It is one of the engines of globalisation. The next President will inherit more than 100,000 troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. Even Barack Obama does not promise a precipitous withdrawal from Iraq. The question is not, will Bush’s successor engage with the outside world, but how? Over the past 50 years or so, the US has sometimes acted abroad unilaterally, sometimes through international organisations, sometimes through bilateral treaties, sometimes in so-called coalitions of the willing. It has always acted against a hard-headed cost/benefit analysis of where its national interest lies.

The neo-conservative ascendancy was an ideological aberration from this “realist”, pragmatic tradition of US foreign policy. The gates were thrown open to it by the shock and horror of 9/11, something that we in Britain constantly underestimate in its personal impact on the President. Before 9/11 Bush’s foreign policy was settling comfortably into the traditional mainstream. Seven years later, with the neo-cons in retreat, Bush’s drive for a settlement between Israel and the Palestinians looks like a reversion to the pre-9/11 template. All this assumes, of course, that there is no terrorist attack on the US mainland in 2008.

Whoever wins in November, on the basis of what the main candidates are saying on Iraq - the issue which has most divided British public opinion from the US - there will be more continuity of policy than rupture. And consider this. What if, against the odds, Bush breaks the stalemate between Israel and the Palestinians? What if, against the odds, Shia, Sunni and Kurd in Iraq inch towards a new and durable settlement? What if Bush decides to engage directly with Iran?

None of this is unthinkable. If it comes to pass, won’t we want continuity, not change, from the next president of the United States?

Christopher Meyer will be a speaker at the Fabian Society Change the World conference on 19 January

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“It was the most traumatic chapter of my life”: ex-soldier James Wharton on his chemsex addiction

One of the British Army’s first openly gay soldiers reveals how he became trapped in a weekend world of drug and sex parties.

“Five days disappeared.” James Wharton, a 30-year-old former soldier, recalls returning to his flat in south London at 11pm on a Sunday night in early March. He hadn’t eaten or slept since Wednesday. In the five intervening days, he had visited numerous different apartments, checked in and out of a hotel room, partied with dozens of people, had sex, and smoked crystal meth “religiously”.

One man he met during this five-day blur had been doing the same for double the time. “He won’t have been exaggerating,” Wharton tells me now. “He looked like he’d been up for ten days.”

On Monday, Wharton went straight to his GP. He had suffered a “massive relapse” while recovering from his addiction to chemsex: group sex parties enhanced by drugs.

“Crystal meth lets you really dig in, to use an Army term”

I meet Wharton on a very different Monday morning six months after that lost long weekend. Sipping a flat white in a sleek café workspace in Holborn, he’s a stroll away from his office in the city, where he works as a PR. He left the Army in 2013 after ten years, having left school and home at 16.


Wharton left school at 16 to join the Army. Photo: Biteback

With his stubble, white t-shirt and tortoise shell glasses, he now looks like any other young media professional. But he’s surfacing from two years in the chemsex world, where he disappeared to every weekend – sometimes for 72 hours straight.

Back then, this time on a Monday would have been “like a double-decker bus smashing through” his life – and that’s if he made it into work at all. Sometimes he’d still be partying into the early hours of a Tuesday morning. The drugs allow your body to go without sleep. “Crystal meth lets you really dig in, to use an Army expression,” Wharton says, wryly.


Wharton now works as a PR in London. Photo: James Wharton

Mainly experienced by gay and bisexual men, chemsex commonly involves snorting the stimulant mephodrone, taking “shots” (the euphoric drug GBL mixed with a soft drink), and smoking the amphetamine crystal meth.

These drugs make you “HnH” (high and horny) – a shorthand on dating apps that facilitate the scene. Ironically, they also inhibit erections, so Viagra is added to the mix. No one, sighs Wharton, orgasms. He describes it as a soulless and mechanical process. “Can you imagine having sex with somebody and then catching them texting at the same time?”

“This is the real consequence of Section 28”

Approximately 3,000 men who go to Soho’s 56 Dean Street sexual health clinic each month are using “chems”, though it’s hard to quantify how many people regularly have chemsex in the UK. Chemsex environments can be fun and controlled; they can also be unsafe and highly addictive.

Participants congregate in each other’s flats, chat, chill out, have sex and top up their drugs. GBL can only be taken in tiny doses without being fatal, so revellers set timers on their phones to space out the shots.

GBL is known as “the date rape drug”; it looks like water, and a small amount can wipe your memory. Like some of his peers, Wharton was raped while passed out from the drug. He had been asleep for six or so hours, and woke up to someone having sex with him. “That was the worst point, without a doubt – rock bottom,” he tells me. “[But] it didn’t stop me from returning to those activities again.”

There is a chemsex-related death every 12 days in London from usually accidental GBL overdoses; a problem that Wharton compares to the AIDS epidemic in a book he’s written about his experiences, Something for the Weekend.


Wharton has written a book about his experiences. Photo: Biteback

Wharton’s first encounter with the drug, at a gathering he was taken to by a date a couple of years ago, had him hooked.

“I loved it and I wanted more immediately,” he recalls. From then on, he would take it every weekend, and found doctors, teachers, lawyers, parliamentary researchers, journalists and city workers all doing the same thing. He describes regular participants as the “London gay elite”.

“Chemsex was the most traumatic chapter of my life” 

Topics of conversation “bounce from things like Lady Gaga’s current single to Donald Trump”, Wharton boggles. “You’d see people talking about the general election, to why is Britney Spears the worst diva of them all?”

Eventually, he found himself addicted to the whole chemsex culture. “It’s not one single person, it’s not one single drug, it’s just all of it,” he says.



Wharton was in the Household Cavalry alongside Prince Harry. Photos: Biteback and James Wharton

Wharton feels the stigma attached to chemsex is stopping people practising it safely, or being able to stop. He’s found a support network through gay community-led advice services, drop-ins and workshops. Not everyone has that access, or feels confident coming forward.

“This is the real consequence of Section 28,” says Wharton, who left school in 2003, the year this legislation against “promoting” homosexuality was repealed. “Who teaches gay men how to have sex? Because the birds and the bees chat your mum gives you is wholly irrelevant.”


Wharton was the first openly gay soldier to appear in the military in-house magazine. Photo courtesy of Biteback

Wharton only learned that condoms are needed in gay sex when he first went to a gay bar at 18. He was brought up in Wrexham, north Wales, by working-class parents, and described himself as a “somewhat geeky gay” prior to his chemsex days.

After four years together, he and his long-term partner had a civil partnership in 2010; they lived in a little cottage in Windsor with two dogs. Their break-up in 2014 launched him into London life as a single man.

As an openly gay soldier, Wharton was also an Army poster boy; he appeared in his uniform on the cover of gay magazine Attitude. He served in the Household Cavalry with Prince Harry, who once defended him from homophobic abuse, and spent seven months in Iraq.


In 2012, Wharton appeared with his then civil partner in Attitude magazine. Photo courtesy of Biteback

A large Union Jack shield tattoo covering his left bicep pokes out from his t-shirt – a physical reminder of his time at war on his now much leaner frame. He had it done the day he returned from Iraq.

Yet even including war, Wharton calls chemsex “the most traumatic chapter” of his life. “Iraq was absolutely Ronseal, it did exactly what it said on the tin,” he says. “It was going to be a bit shit, and then I was coming home. But with chemsex, you don’t know what’s going to happen next.

“When I did my divorce, I had support around me. When I did the Army, I had a lot of support. Chemsex was like a million miles an hour for 47 hours, then on the 48th hour it was me on my own, in the back of an Uber, thinking where did it all go wrong? And that’s traumatic.”

Something for the Weekend: Life in the Chemsex Underworld by James Wharton is published by Biteback.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.