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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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue