China’s call today for a new global reserve currency to replace the dollar spells the beginning of the end of the American Empire. China holds most of the dollar credit in the world, and that of course gave China a powerful incentive to maintain dollar hegemony. That China now views the risks to world trade from the US’ indebtedness, to outweigh the potential loss in value of its own dollar reserves, is the tipping point that spells the inevitable beginning of the end of the US empire.

The reserve currency system has since 1795 allowed empires to be built on the economic output of weaker powers. If you achieve sufficient economic power and control of resources that yours is the currency everyone holds, you can print as much of it for yourself as you like and the devaluation effects are spread around not just your economy, but everyone else who holds your deposits. Being the reserve currency is a license to print money. Both the British and the Americans used this position to build military forces which could dominate both formal and informal empires. Both eventually experienced overreach, with military expenditure pushing deficit finance to the point of implosion. Then you lose reserve currency status.

It happened to the British and now it is happening to the Americans.

The colossal 4.7% a year of its wealth the US throws away on defence and security expenditure (broadly defined) – more than double the European average – is a huge factor in US indebtedness. There is an extraordinary failure to mention this in the mainstream media. It seems to be an Emperor’s New Clothes thing. It is the one area of expenditure the xenophobic hatemongers of the Tea Party want to see increased, and the existence of Empire causes all career politicians to compete in public displays of patriotism. That has been a political fact since the dawn of time. Defence spending is a sacred cow, unmentionable in the United States. They probably have a couple of decades to come fully to terms with the fact that they will no longer be in a position to invade who they will in order to control their mineral and other commodity resources. As with the British empire, the beetle on its back will kick its legs a while yet. It will be painful for them.

I shall enjoy it. I never claimed to be a good person!

I was sacked for opposing – within the Foreign Office – a secret UK government policy of cooperation with torture. Not only was I sacked, I was charged with eighteen reputation wrecking allegations, ranging from sexual blackmail through financial impropriety to alcoholism, of all of which I was eventually cleared. Throughout this process and still today, the Government claimed I was lying about the policy of collaboration with torture.

They never denied any of the detail of my evidence, but rather attacked my “credibility”, which aided by the corrupt press/media nexus was sufficient to keep my information out of the mainstream.

Now the Guardian has irrefutable evidence that what I said is true, and there was indeed a secret policy of torture which implicates the top of the British political, diplomatic and intelligence establishments. Simon Jenkins nailed the extent of this a year ago, although I think I am entitled to point out there was at least one senior UK civil servant who actively tried to stand against it – me.

Ian Cobain at the Guardian deserves huge kudos for tenaciously tracking down this evidence for many years. I am delighted he has succeeded. It proves my own testimony is absolutely true.

But it also demands an answer to a key question – how much did Sir Peter Gibson know of this secret policy of collaboration with torture, when he was Commissioner for the Intelligence Services?

There are only two possibilities – either he knew, in which case he may himself be criminally culpable, and certainly cannot head the inquiry into the matter. Or this secret policy was kept hidden from the Commissioner himself. Either way it should be a huge story. Why is nobody asking?

I have today sent the following email to the Inquiry, following up my earlier submission of documentary evidence:

My dear Sara,

I have not as yet decided to join the boycott of the inquiry by human rights groups. I have the strongest desire to help the establishment of the disreputable truth on this matter. But there are a couple of questions I need answered before I can make up my mind:

You will have doubtless seen the new revelations yesterday and today in the Guardian of key policy documents revealing a policy of cooperation with torture to obtain intelligence, despite known illegality. I need to know whether Sir Peter Gibson ever saw the documents referred to by the Guardian, in his previous role with the intelligence services.

This is a vital question. If he did see these policy documents in his previous position, he is indelibly compromised and I suggest that you too may wish to consider whether you wish to continue to be associated with this process.

Secondly I need to know whether the documents I have sent to you were among those provided to the inquiry by the Foreign Office, if not if they have subsequently been provided, and whether they will be published by the inquiry unexpurgated?

Craig Murray

Yesterday a middle aged man and woman, who looked the epitome of Morningside respectability, had tears on their cheeks as the lights came up at the end of our Medea. It told of the amazing power of theatre, and the unchanging nature of human emotion and experience, to see these solid burghers so moved by a three thousand year old tale.

It was a stunning performance. The first night’s technical glitches having been almost completely resolved, the actors were fully engaged, almost scarily so in the case of Nadira. It is a peculiar thing to see someone you love so inhabited by a torn and ultimately psychotic personality, if only for seventy minutes.

I was honest with you about the first night disaster, and I am equally honest in saying how proud I am of this production now it is working. Last night was undoubtedly one of the most gripping nights in the theatre I have ever experienced. The cast are just tremendous. We had our first major critic in yesterday, and I will leave them to tell you about Nadira, but she was extraordinary. Sarah Berger is long established as an actress of great power, and her telling of the death of Creon and his daughter is truly horrifying; all the hairs on the back of my head stood up. Richard Fry is an established star of the Fringe, and to see him acting outside his one man show genre reveals new aspects of his enormous talent. His characterisation of Jason is as compelling as it is unexpected.

I feel elated this morning. But theatre requires an audience, and that we absolutely don’t have yet. I think last night’s paying customers amounted to twelve. That was always my greatest fear; how nowadays do you get an audience for something serious at the fringe, which is nowadays mostly a lucrative larkabout for people off the telly?

Paul Daniels comes out of the dressing room as we come in. He is actually very nice, friendly and unaffected. Nadira often has some amusing insights into British life, having grown up happily shielded from our popular culture. The first day she came out and whispered to me “There’s a weird old man carrying a rabbit in there”!

I hope you realise why I am not yet back to normal blogging. Hopefully once things settle…

We had rather a humbling first preview of Medea yesterday. I am sure it is quite wrong of me in terms of theatrical etiquette to blog about it, but it was really not good.

The main problem was the sound. There is sound running through much of the performance – waves, and a pulsing heartbeat noise as the action hots up, as well as various other effects at key moments, like yells and bells, and also some songs.

For reasons I don’t understand and are apparently connected to a change of soundcard on the venue computer, it all went very wrong. First the sound effects were far too loud – the sea in the opening scenes sounded like they were acting on the deck of the Titanic as it slipped under – and secondly they were completely out of synch, so the actors were reacting to noises off which had not in fact happened or were ignoring very loud noise events indeed which had just happened but shouldn’t have.

I presume as something to do with the same computer problem, the lighting went wrong as well – Nadira laughed this morning that it is difficult to soliloquise while trying very hard to work your way into any available light. On top of which twice during the performance the house lights came full on.

The cast were wonderful in these circumstances – including Nadira, if I may say so, but obviously struggled to maintain full intensity throughout. Now everyone is working like crazy to try to solve these problems by tonight – being Edinburgh Fringe, without any access to the venue to solve them!

Actually, being an old-fashioned sort of person, I should be delighted if this all resulted in a much simplified production, pared down to the actors and the text.

Sorry to have been away. Putting on this show is really exhausting. It is not exactly fun either – the Edinburgh Festival Fringe is really scarey, because with competing shows numbered in five figures, just letting people know you exist is a struggle. Actually the Edinburgh Fringe is in one sense a good example of an absolutely thriving, vibrant and creative artistic event – arguably the best in the world – in which the great majority of what is going on is nothing to do with taxpayers’ money. I am sorry to say I an almost entirely against taxpayer spending on what some officially sanctioned fool has decided constitutes worthy art.

One great pleasure of Nadira’s involvement in this project has been meeting Stella Duffy. I knew of her before, but had not read anything by her as far as I remember. Her Medea is rendered in blank verse, and both the rhythms and the imagery are absolutely fantastic.

I have been read to by Nadira many, many times – I presume this is the fate of all partners of actors – and actually I am lost in admiration of Stella’s use of words, and the sustained intensity of the evocation of emotion. Images are artfully set in clusters of words, each carefully selected and placed.

It has given me severe self doubt about my own books. I know I am not trying to write poetry, but I do tend to slap words on the page just as they enter my mind. I have actually started to revise bits of my new book to try to make the writing finer – something I have never done before. Most of Murder in Samarkand I just wrote once, and never looked at or revised. Indeed, at one point I produced over 40,000 words at a sitting, without sleep. I thought that was quite an achievement. Now I am feeling less sure.