Welfare cuts mean a dramatic rise in council tax for the poorest

The decision to reduce the budget for council tax support by 10 per cent means low-income households face a tax increase of up to £600.

Accustomed to the inflated claims of successive governments, readers might be forgiven for rolling their eyes at the phrase "radical welfare reform". Yet for once the bold rhetoric might match reality. Council Tax Benefit, the most widely claimed benefit in the UK, which provides 5.9 million low-income families with help paying their council tax will soon be abolished. From 1 April, responsibility for council tax support will transfer from Whitehall to each of England’s 326 local authorities (and the Scottish and Welsh governments). Few have yet grasped the full implications.

To the reform’s cheerleaders, the change is ‘localism in action,’ and technically they’re right. But it’s localism of the most meagre and restricting kind. Councils must now provide council tax support but from a budget cut by 10 per cent cut. And they must also contend with centrally-set rules that mean that the amount of help pensioners receive is protected. This leaves them with a stark choice: either substantially increase the council tax bills of low income working families or find savings elsewhere to cover the funding shortfall.

Faced with these constraints and unable to make the required extra savings at a time of unprecedented financial challenge, three-quarters of English councils are set to introduce less generous systems of council tax support in just over two months’ time. Over a third are set to introduce schemes that severely reduce support. Only around a quarter of councils – along with both the Scottish and Welsh governments – feel they are able to absorb the funding shortfall and maintain current levels of support.

What does this mean for low income households? The answer is set out in a report released this morning from the Resolution Foundation. It shows that while the government talks up its decision to "freeze" council tax, millions of households – both in and out of work –in fact face swingeing increases.

Both the scale of the hit and the number of people likely to be affected are dramatic. Many of the 2.5 million out-of-work claimants who currently pay no council tax at all will now, often for the first time, face council tax bills of between £96 and £255 a year. Meanwhile, around 670,000 low-paid working families will see their council tax rise by anywhere up to 333 per cent – an increase of £577 for single working parents who look set to be the worst affected. Little wonder that the handful of prescient commentators alive to the possible implications of Council Tax Benefit reform have drawn parallels with the Community Charge, more commonly known as the poll tax.

It remains to be seen whether we see the emergence of the twenty-first century equivalent of anti-poll tax unions but councils are certainly braced for widespread non-payment. Many are setting aside large sums of money to compensate for unpaid bills while also preparing for more extensive use of bailiff powers and the courts.

Reform did not need to look like this. There was no intrinsic rationale to cutting funding at the same time as localising council tax support and experts have long warned of the dangers that a complex patchwork of local schemes poses to the government’s Universal Credit system. For savings of £410m it all seems unduly hazardous.

But the hazards for government are nothing compared to the very real suffering the changes will mean for many low income families. Already struggling to cope with stagnant wages, rising living costs, a series of cuts to the tax credits and – now – three years of below-inflation rises in support, a swingeing increase in council tax may mean the difference between staying afloat and going under.

As yet, there is no sign that ministers recognise the pain the reform is set to cause. Eric Pickles appears more concerned with the prospect of councils "cheating" their residents by planning across-the-board council tax rises of 1.99 per cent than with those soon to face increases of up to 333 per cent. Perhaps they expect a public inured to cuts to meekly accept the change. Yet there is all the difference in the world between stealth reductions in support over time and a large bill landing on your doormat. Revolt or not, the poor are unlikely to take this lying down. 

The Resolution Foundation's new report, No Clear Benefit, is published today

Communities Secretary Eric Pickles speaks at the Conservative conference in Birmingham last year. Photograph: Getty Images.

Matthew Pennycook is MP for Greenwich and Woolwich, and member of the Energy and Climate Change Committee. He is PPS to John Healey. 

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The struggles of Huma Abedin

On the behind-the-scenes story of Hillary Clinton’s closest aide.

In a dreary campaign, it was a moment that shone: Hillary Clinton, on the road to the caucus in Iowa, stopping at a Mexican fast-food restaurant to eat and somehow passing unrecognised. Americans of all political persuasions gleefully speculated over what her order – a chicken burrito bowl with guacamole – revealed about her frame of mind, while supporters gloated that the grainy security-camera footage seemed to show Clinton with her wallet out, paying for her own lunch. Here was not the former first lady, senator and secretary of state, known to people all over the world. This was someone’s unassuming grandmother, getting some food with her colleagues.

It might be unheard of for Clinton to go unrecognised but, for the woman next to her at the till, blending into the background is part of the job. Huma Abedin, often referred to as Clinton’s “shadow” by the US media, is now the vice-chair of her presidential campaign. She was Clinton’s deputy chief of staff at the state department and has been a personal aide since the late 1990s.

Abedin first met Clinton in 1996 when she was 19 and an intern at the White House, assigned to the first lady’s office. She was born in Michigan in 1976 to an Indian father and a Pakistani mother. When Abedin was two, they moved from the US to Saudi Arabia. She returned when she was 18 to study at George Washington University in Washington, DC. Her father was an Islamic scholar who specialised in interfaith reconciliation – he died when she was 17 – and her mother is a professor of sociology.

While the role of “political body woman” may once have been a kind of modern maid, there to provide a close physical presence and to juggle the luggage and logistics, this is no longer the case. During almost 20 years at Clinton’s side, Abedin has advised her boss on everything from how to set up a fax machine – “Just pick up the phone and hang it up. And leave it hung up” – to policy on the Middle East. When thousands of Clinton’s emails were made public (because she had used a private, rather than a government, server for official communication), we glimpsed just how close they are. In an email from 2009, Clinton tells her aide: “Just knock on the door to the bedroom if it’s closed.”

Abedin shares something else with Clinton, outside of their professional ties. They are both political wives who have weathered their husbands’ scandals. In what felt like a Lewinsky affair for the digital age, in 2011, Abedin’s congressman husband, Anthony Weiner, resigned from office after it emerged that he had shared pictures of his genitals with strangers on social media. A second similar scandal then destroyed his attempt to be elected mayor of New York in 2013. In an ironic twist, it was Bill Clinton who officiated at Abedin’s and Weiner’s wedding in 2010. At the time, Hillary is reported to have said: “I have one daughter. But if I had a second daughter, it would [be] Huma.” Like her boss, Abedin stood by her husband and now Weiner is a house husband, caring for their four-year-old son, Jordan, while his wife is on the road.

Ellie Foreman-Peck

A documentary filmed during Weiner’s abortive mayoral campaign has just been released in the US. Weiner shows Abedin at her husband’s side, curtailing his more chaotic tendencies, always flawless with her red lipstick in place. Speaking to the New York Observer in 2007, three years before their marriage, Weiner said of his future wife: “This notion that Senator Clinton is a cool customer – I mean, I don’t dispute it, but the coolest customer in that whole operation is Huma . . . In fact, I think there’s some dispute as to whether Huma’s actually human.” In the film, watching her preternatural calm under extraordinary pressure, you can see what he means.

In recent months, Abedin’s role has changed. She is still to be found at Clinton’s side – as the burrito photo showed – but she is gradually taking a more visible role in the organisation overall, as they pivot away from the primaries to focus on the national race. She meets with potential donors and endorsers on Clinton’s behalf and sets strategy. When a running mate is chosen, you can be sure that Abedin will have had her say on who it is. There’s a grim symmetry to the way politics looks in the US now: on one side, the Republican candidate Donald Trump is calling for a ban on Muslims entering the country; on the other, the presumptive Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton relies ever more on her long-time Muslim-American staffer.

Years before Trump, notable Republicans were trying to make unpleasant capital out of Abedin’s background. In 2012, Tea Party supporters alleged that she was linked to the Muslim Brotherhood and its attempt to gain access “to top Obama officials”. In her rare interviews, Abedin has spoken of how hurtful these baseless statements were to her family – her mother still lives in Saudi Arabia. Later, the senator and former Republican presidential candidate John McCain spoke up for her, saying that Abedin represented “what is best about America”.

Whether senior figures in his party would do the same now remains to be seen.

Caroline Crampton is web editor of the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 26 May 2016 issue of the New Statesman, The Brexit odd squad