Above image: Edmond “Big Ed” Muskie exposed as an Ibogaine addict, in the depths of an ill fated experiment with ibogaine.


With Colorado, my former state of residence, legalizing Ibogaine, I feel it is my civic responsibility to specify the history of and my experiences with this compound.

A History

The most common known source of Ibogaine is from the roots of Tabernanthe Iboga, a shrub indigenous to West Africa. As early as 1869, roots of T.I. were reported effective in combating sleep or fatigue and in maintaining alertness when ingested by African natives. Extracts of T.I. are used by natives while stalking game; it enables them to remain motionless for as long as two days while retaining mental alertness. It has been used for centuries by natives of Africa, Asia and South America in conjunction with fetishistic and mythical ceremonies. In 1905 the gross effects of chewing large quantities of T.I. roots were described… “Soon his nerves get tense in an extraordinary way; an epileptic-like madness comes over him, during which he becomes unconscious and pronounces words which are interpreted by the older members of the group as having a prophetic meaning and to prove that the fetish has entered him.”

At the turn of the century, iboga extracts were used as stimulants, aphrodisiacs and inebriants. They have been available in European drugstores for over 30 years. Much of the research with Ibogaine has been done with animals. In the cat, for example, 2-10 mg./kg. given intravenously caused marked excitation, dilated pupils, salivation, and tremors leading to a picture of rage. There was an alerting reaction; obvious apprehension and fear, and attempts to escape…

In human studies, at a dose of 300 mg. given orally, the subject experiences visions, changes in perception of the environment and delusions or alterations of thinking. Visual imagery became more vivid, with animals often appearing. Ibogaine produces a state of drowsiness in which the subject does not wish to move, open his eyes, or be aware of his environment. Since there appears to be an inverse relationship between the presence of physical symptoms and the richness of the psychological experience, the choice of environment is an important consideration. Many are disturbed by lights or noises…

Dr. Claudio Naranjo, a psychotherapist, is responsible for most current knowledge regarding Ibogaine effects in humans. He states: “I have been more impressed by the enduring effects resulting from Ibogaine than by those from sessions conducted with any other drug.”

- From a 1972 study by PharmChem Laboratories, Palo Alto, California

The Ramifications

Not much has been written about The Ibogaine Effect as a serious factor in the Presidential Campaign of 1972, but toward the end of the Democratic Party’s Wisconsin primary race—about a week before the vote—word leaked out that some of Edmond Muskie’s top advisors had called in a Brazilian doctor who was said to be treating the candidate with “some kind of strange drug” that nobody in the press corps had ever heard of.

It had been common knowledge for many weeks that Humphrey was using an exotic brand of speed known as Wallot… and it had long been whispered that Muskie was into something very heavy, but it was hard to take the talk seriously until I heard about the appearance of a mysterious Brazilian doctor. That was the key.

I immediately recognized The Ibogaine Effect—from Muskie’s tearful breakdown on the flatbed truck in New Hampshire, the delusions and altered thinking that characterized his campaign in Florida, and finally the condition of “total rage” that gripped him in Wisconsin.

There was no doubt about it: The Man from Maine had turned to massive doses of Ibogaine as a last resort. The only remaining question was “when did he start?” But nobody could answer this one, and I was not able to press the candidate himself for an answer because I was permanently barred from the Muskie campaign after that incident on the “Sunshine Special” in Florida… and that scene makes far more sense now than it did at the time. Muskie has always taken pride in his ability to deal with hecklers; he has frequently challenged them, calling them up to the stage in front of big crowds and then forcing the poor bastards to debate with him in a blaze of TV lights.

But there was none of that in Florida. When the Boohoo began grabbing at his legs and screaming for more gin, Big Ed went all to pieces… which gave rise to speculation, among reporters familiar with his campaign style in ’68 and ’70, that Muskie was not himself. It was noted, among other things, that he had developed a tendency to roll his eyes wildly during TV interviews, that his thought patterns had become strangely fragmented, and that not even his closest advisors could predict when he might suddenly spiral off into babbling rages, or neo-comatose funks.

In restrospect, however, it is easy to see why Edmond Muskie fell apart on that caboose platform in the Miami train station. There he was—far gone in a bad Ibogaine frenzy—suddenly shoved out in a rainstorm to face a sullen crowd and some kind of snarling lunatic going for his legs while he tried to explain why he was “the only Democrat who can beat Nixion.”

It is entirely conceivable—given the known effects of Ibogaine—that Muskie’s brain was almost paralyzed by hallucinations at the time; that he looked out at that crowd and saw gila monsters instead of people, and that his mind snapped completely when he felt something large and apparently vicious clawing at his legs.

We can only speculate on this, because those in a position to know have flatly refused to comment on rumors concerning the Senator’s disastrous experiments with Ibogaine. I tried to find the Brazilian doctor on election night in Milwaukee, but by the time the polls closed he was long gone. One of the hired bimbos in Milwaukee’s Holiday Inn headquarters said a man with fresh welts on his head had been dragged out the side door and put on a bus to Chicago, but we were never able to confirm this.


In summation, Ibogaine is a very powerful hallucinogenic root of Trepentha ibogaine (Taber-nanthe iboga]. If you eat it--just a chunk of it--you can sit for three days in a very quiet stupor, without sleeping, and watching a water hole.

Indigenous people in Africa have done this and it helps them to outlast the beast. You can sit there with your blowgun at the waterhole for three days. You're just frozen and all you can think about is killing the ani-mal. There are other manifestations, such as sudden blind rages, unexplainable frenzies... but mainly you're after the animal, like old Edmond Muskie.

Have you ever experimented with Ibogaine? If so, what happened and why?

  • HunterSThompson [he/him]
    hexagon
    ·
    2 years ago

    Furthermore, I never said Muskie was taking ibogaine, I said there was a rumor in Milwaukeee that he was. Which was true, and I started the rumor in Milwaukee.

    If you read that carefully, I’m a very accurate journalist.

  • HunterSThompson [he/him]
    hexagon
    ·
    edit-2
    2 years ago

    :hst-pissed:

    I better not find I have written this out for nothing, I swear to sweet christ.

    • Alf [any]
      ·
      edit-2
      2 years ago

      deleted by creator

      • HunterSThompson [he/him]
        hexagon
        ·
        2 years ago

        discharging a firearm at ibogain rarely improves the situation, but it’s worth a shot

      • Wertheimer [any]
        ·
        2 years ago

        Many thanks, Dr. Thompson. This vote also reminds me of your statement on why you moved to Colorado:

        "Most of us are living here because we like the idea of being able to walk out our front doors and smile at what we see. On my own front porch I have a palm tree growing in a blue toilet bowl . . . and on occasion I like to wander outside, stark naked, and fire my .44 magnum at various gongs I've mounted on a nearby hillside. I like to load up on mescaline and turn my amplifier to 110 decibels for a taste of 'White Rabbit' while the sun comes up on the snow-peaks along the Continental Divide."

        • HunterSThompson [he/him]
          hexagon
          ·
          edit-2
          2 years ago

          My fortified compound in Woody Creek was (and always will be) my home... even in political exile. I have a deep and enduring loyalty for the great state of Colorado.