The budding bromance between Trump and Burnham
As seen in the New Statesman I t’s a quarter to midnight on a hot July evening when the text from Andy Burnham comes through: ‘Guess who just messaged me. Susie Wiles. Trump’s chief of fookin’ staff. Get over here right now, Connyboy.’ I murmur an apology to Aditi, asleep beside me, and slip off. I had been advising Burnham on comms in an informal capacity since last year, and this looked to be my biggest assignment yet. In an age of fracturing global order, geopolitics can hinge on a single WhatsApp. I arrive at ‘Camp Burnham’, the suite in the Heathrow Radisson Blu where Andy is preparing for government.
