Leaders agree debt ceiling deal -- but Obama's crisis isn't over

US president announces deal that will raise debt ceiling and slash spending by trillions.

Barack Obama has announced that Republican and Democratic leaders have reached an agreement on raising the US debt ceiling by $900bn.

A second increase of between $1.2tn and $1.5tn would be available subject to a second vote of disapproval by Congress. In return for this increase in the government's borrowing limit, Congress will commit to deep spending cuts, reducing the deficit by a roughly equivalent amount over the next decade. A special bipartisan committee will be set up to agree areas to be cut.

The deadline for raising the debt cap -- currently at $14.3tn -- is tomorrow. While this deal marks a significant breakthrough after days of deadlock, it has yet to be voted on. Even as Obama announced the measures at the White House, the Speaker in the House of Representatives, John Boehner, was trying to sell the proposal to House Republicans. The hardline elements of his party are likely to vote against the bill, meaning that Boehner must make the deal sound appealing to Republicans without alienating the Democrats whose vote will also be needed to pass it.

Obama said that while it was not the deal he wanted, it would make a "serious down payment" on the deficit, and would prevent another crisis in a year's time. This is something Democrats were keen to avoid in the run up to the 2012 election.

While attention is now focused on getting the bill through the House in the face of intransigent right-wingers, many Democrats are also unhappy at the level of fiscal tightening the bill will involve. Mirroring the debate in Europe, economists have argued that slashing government spending at a time of dismal growth will depress the economy further.

In addition to this concern about the content of the bill are serious worries about the political message this debacle sends to the Tea Party representatives who precipitated, or at least worsened, the crisis. Obama's refusal to use legal manoeuvring to side-step the crisis -- or even to invoke the possibility to strengthen his bargaining position -- could well empower those set on derailing his presidency and blindly pursuing their own small-state agenda. Paul Krugman, describing the deal as an "abject surrender" by the President, expresses the view of many on the left:

Make no mistake about it, what we're witnessing here is a catastrophe on multiple levels.

It is, of course, a political catastrophe for Democrats, who just a few weeks ago seemed to have Republicans on the run over their plan to dismantle Medicare; now Mr. Obama has thrown all that away. And the damage isn't over: there will be more choke points where Republicans can threaten to create a crisis unless the president surrenders, and they can now act with the confident expectation that he will.

In the long run, however, Democrats won't be the only losers. What Republicans have just gotten away with calls our whole system of government into question. After all, how can American democracy work if whichever party is most prepared to be ruthless, to threaten the nation's economic security, gets to dictate policy? And the answer is, maybe it can't.

Both houses will vote on the deal today.

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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Must I unremember the day I wept over the long, slow suicide of a 27-year-old man?

At that time we did talk about the occupation of Ireland. Now we have to pretend we didn’t and it’s all the jolly UK and thank you, England for the peace process.

The misremembering of history interrupts these tales of my own squalid past. Very often I find myself wishing my memories were wrong, or that I’d forgotten more than I have. This would certainly be the case were I to be a politician, albeit a small-time one in big-time government. In the era of renunciations and sincere apologies, I would have to say sorry most of the time.

But I can’t. I can’t get past that clear day in May 1981, when the tangy cold spring air of a New York day got right inside me. Ambling home from another long, messy night in the Village, I was near 52nd when I saw people carrying a coffin.

“It’s not him, of course. It’s a fake coffin,” said a woman who saw the shock on my face. Maybe I was already crying. I knew and didn’t know but asked anyway.

“Yes. Bobby.”

Bobby Sands had died. Crowds were gathering with banners about Smashing Long Kesh and Smashing Thatcher.

The shock of it has never left me and God knows “martyrs” come two a penny now. Yet the idea that someone can starve themselves slowly to death for an idea is shocking. The idea that someone can let them do it, either “for” a United Ireland or “for” a United Kingdom, remains profoundly disturbing to me.

I need no lectures about what vile and murderous bastards the IRA were, or the numbers of innocents they killed. Nor about the smeary sentimentality of martyrdom itself. All I can say is that I had little idea of what “we” did in Ireland as long as I lived in England. A boy at school had run off to join the IRA. My mum said, “Well, he’s always been tapped, that one.”

We were kept ignorant. For some stupid reason, I did not think that Thatcher would let the hunger strikers die.

Their demands, remember, were the right not to wear prison uniform or to do prison work, rights to free association and education within the prison, one visit, one parcel, one letter a week. They wanted to be treated as political prisoners. Thatcher said Sands had no mandate. He was actually an MP, with more votes than she ever won in Finchley.

In New York that day, when we got to Third Avenue, there was anger and then solemnity. There were mumblings about what a death like that entailed . . . Mandela then instigated a hunger strike on Robben Island. There were protests in Milan and Ghent. French towns would name streets after Sands.

At that time, though, yes, we did talk about the occupation of Ireland. Now we have to pretend we didn’t and it’s all the jolly UK and thank you, England for the peace process.

So, must I unremember that day when I sat down on the pavement and wept over the long, slow suicide of a 27-year-old man? Let me know how to uncry all those tears shed for that terrible, terrible waste.

Suzanne Moore is a writer for the Guardian and the New Statesman. She writes the weekly “Telling Tales” column in the NS.

This article first appeared in the 01 October 2015 issue of the New Statesman, The Tory tide