US Senate does something unbelievable: passes a bill

Taxmaggedon's not averted, but the competition is on fair ground

The United States got a little more likely to avoid Taxmaggedon yesterday, as the Senate voted narrowly to pass the Democrats' bill extending "middle-class" tax cuts 51-48.

On December 31st, 2012, the tax cuts passed by George Bush will all expire at once, along with a number of other tax cuts and spending provisions. If this isn't averted, the resulting economic shock – dubbed a "fiscal cliff" by Fed chairman Ben Bernanke, and Taxmaggedon by others – has been predicted to knock 4 per cent from US growth in 2013.

The strange thing about the situation, though, is that both parties want to avert it. Unfortunately, their chosen outcomes are different enough that each would rather let the nation burn and blame it on the other than pass something they don't agree with.

The desired outcome for Republicans is keeping all the tax cuts except for two – Obama's payroll tax cut, and the tax cuts implemented in the 2009 stimlus package. Not coincedentally, these are two of the cuts which affect low-income people most, and as a result, the party isn't hugely eager to mention that they are in favour of repealing them with the "Tax Hike Prevention Act of 2013" (which will directly implement tax hikes. America).

The Democrats, however, want to keep those low-income tax cuts, and also all of the Bush tax cuts up to $250,000 per year. Despite the fact that only 2 per cent of the country earns above that, they have come to be called the "middle-class" tax cuts. In return, they want to soak the rich a bit more, reverting marginal tax rates above that level to where they were in the Clinton era, and implementing the so-called "Buffet rule" to prevent brazen tax avoidance.

It is clear, however, that there are a large number of tax hikes which both parties want to avoid. So why the reticence? Because after the election – indeed, after Taxmaggedon actually takes effect – it will be a lot easier to get bipartisan support. Right now, the Democratic position involves tricking or cajoling Repbulicans into voting for tax hikes, even if only on the rich. But coming to that same position in 2013 will involve voting for tax cuts, since the hikes they want will happen automatically. That vote is a far more palatable prospect.

So while the Democrat-controlled Senate passed the their preferred bill, the Republican House of Representatives in gearing up to reject it out of hand. It will not make it to the President's table in this form, and nothing is likely to until at least November. 

But there is, buried in this, a small bit of good news. Because the Senate did something rather unusual: they had a vote which was won by the side with the most people on it. Normally, the arcane standing orders of the Senate require a supermajority, of at least 60, to win any vote - otherwise it can be filibustered indefinitely, preventing any other business from occurring. The fact that this was passed by a simple majority could mean a simmering of tensions on the matter, or an eagerness (however slight) to work together. Or it could be that they knew it wouldn't pass the House and weren't in a mood to fight.

Time, as ever, will tell.

Senate majority leader Harry Reid, the Democrats' man in the Senate. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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In the 1980s, I went to a rally where Labour Party speakers shared the stage with men in balaclavas

The links between the Labour left and Irish republicanism are worth investigating.

A spat between Jeremy Corbyn’s henchfolk and Conor McGinn, the MP for St Helens North, caught my ear the other evening. McGinn was a guest on BBC Radio 4’s Westminster Hour, and he obligingly revisited the brouhaha for the listeners at home. Apparently, following an interview in May, in which McGinn called for Corbyn to “reach out beyond his comfort zone”, he was first threatened obliquely with the sack, then asked for a retraction (which he refused to give) and finally learned – from someone in the whips’ office – that his party leader was considering phoning up McGinn’s father to whip the errant whipper-in into line. On the programme, McGinn said: “The modus operandi that he [Corbyn] and the people around him were trying to do [sic], involving my family, was to isolate and ostracise me from them and from the community I am very proud to come from – which is an Irish nationalist community in south Armagh.”

Needless to say, the Labour leader’s office has continued to deny any such thing, but while we may nurture some suspicions about his behaviour, McGinn was also indulging in a little airbrushing when he described south Armagh as an “Irish ­nationalist community”. In the most recent elections, Newry and Armagh returned three Sinn Fein members to the Northern Ireland Assembly (as against one Social Democratic and Labour Party member) and one Sinn Fein MP to Westminster. When I last looked, Sinn Fein was still a republican, rather than a nationalist, party – something that McGinn should only be too well aware of, as the paternal hand that was putatively to have been lain on him belongs to Pat McGinn, the former Sinn Fein mayor of Newry and Armagh.

According to the Irish News, a “close friend” of the McGinns poured this cold water on the mini-conflagration: “Anybody who knows the McGinn family knows that Pat is very proud of Conor and that they remain very close.” The friend went on to opine: “He [Pat McGinn] found the whole notion of Corbyn phoning him totally ridiculous – as if Pat is going to criticise his son to save Jeremy Corbyn’s face. They would laugh about it were it not so sinister.”

“Sinister” does seem the mot juste. McGinn, Jr grew up in Bessbrook during the Troubles. I visited the village in the early 1990s on assignment. The skies were full of the chattering of British army Chinooks, and there were fake road signs in the hedgerows bearing pictograms of rifles and captioned: “Sniper at work”. South Armagh had been known for years as “bandit country”. There were army watchtowers standing sentinel in the dinky, green fields and checkpoints everywhere, manned by some of the thousands of the troops who had been deployed to fight what was, in effect, a low-level counter-insurgency war. Nationalist community, my foot.

What lies beneath the Corbyn-McGinn spat is the queered problematics of the ­relationship between the far left wing of the Labour Party and physical-force Irish republicanism. I also recall, during the hunger strikes of the early 1980s, going to a “Smash the H-Blocks” rally in Kilburn, north London, at which Labour Party speakers shared the stage with representatives from Sinn Fein, some of whom wore balaclavas and dark glasses to evade the telephoto lenses of the Met’s anti-terrorist squad.

The shape-shifting relationship between the “political wing” of the IRA and the men with sniper rifles in the south Armagh bocage was always of the essence of the conflict, allowing both sides a convenient fiction around which to posture publicly and privately negotiate. In choosing to appear on platforms with people who might or might not be terrorists, Labour leftists also sprinkled a little of their stardust on themselves: the “stardust” being the implication that they, too, under the right circumstances, might be capable of violence in pursuit of their political ends.

On the far right of British politics, Her Majesty’s Government and its apparatus are referred to derisively as “state”. There were various attempts in the 1970s and 1980s by far-right groupuscules to link up with the Ulster Freedom Fighters and other loyalist paramilitary organisations in their battle against “state”. All foundered on the obvious incompetence of the fascists. The situation on the far left was different. The socialist credentials of Sinn Fein/IRA were too threadbare for genuine expressions of solidarity, but there was a sort of tacit confidence-and-supply arrangement between these factions. The Labour far left provided the republicans with the confidence that, should an appropriately radical government be elected to Westminster, “state” would withdraw from Northern Ireland. What the republicans did for the mainland militants was to cloak them in their penumbra of darkness: without needing to call down on themselves the armed might of “state”, they could imply that they were willing to take it on, should the opportunity arise.

I don’t for a second believe that Corbyn was summoning up these ghosts of the insurrectionary dead when he either did or did not threaten to phone McGinn, Sr. But his supporters need to ask themselves what they’re getting into. Their leader, if he was to have remained true to the positions that he has espoused over many years, should have refused to sit as privy counsellor upon assuming his party office, and refused all the other mummery associated with the monarchical “state”. That he didn’t do so was surely a strategic decision. Such a position would make him utterly unelectable.

The snipers may not be at work in south Armagh just now – but there are rifles out there that could yet be dug up. I wouldn’t be surprised if some in Sinn Fein knew where they are, but one thing’s for certain: Corbyn hasn’t got a clue, bloody or otherwise. 

Will Self is an author and journalist. His books include Umbrella, Shark, The Book of Dave and The Butt. He writes the Madness of Crowds and Real Meals columns for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 25 August 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Cameron: the legacy of a loser