In the glow after last fall's election victory, Grover Norquist,
ringmaster for the right's tax-cutting circus, mischievously compared
minority Democrats in Congress to a bunch of neutered farm animals. Once
snipped, he said, they can be counted on to accept comfortably "the
finality of their powerlessness." Norquist often employs such tasteless
metaphors. He also often gets the politics right.
At this moment, Senate Democrats are preparing to take a dive on the
issue they have righteously hammered for four years--repeal of the
estate tax--and they intend to call this "victory." The Dems want to
negotiate a "compromise" with Senate Republicans that will restore the
inheritance tax while reducing the rate at which estates are taxed and
exempting many more families who are rich but not extremely rich. Yet
the outlines of what Democrats are pursuing looks like a monstrous
giveaway. It would yield roughly $420 billion in tax relief for the very
wealthiest families. Indeed, the bipartisan bargaining may wind up
producing far greater revenue losses. When wobbly-kneed Democrats set
out to negotiate with hard-nosed Republicans on taxes, the Republic is
very likely the loser.
This cave-in would make a joke of Democrats' fervent demands for fiscal
responsibility and balanced budgets. Forget all their rants about
growing income inequality and shameful Republican tax cuts for the rich.
The "reform" proposal circulating among Dems would surrender 55 percent
of the estate-tax revenue that would otherwise be gained by the
government. This windfall would go to something like 160,000 families
and leave a huge hole in the federal tax base. Some victory.
The maneuvering illustrates, once again, the defeatist mentality of the
party establishment. Always eager to avoid a fight on matters of
conviction, the Dems' one inflexible principle is incumbent
self-protection. Senate minority leader Harry Reid wants to get the
estate-tax issue settled before next year's elections so the GOP can't
use it to club two or three vulnerable Democrats as "tax and spend
liberals." So Reid deputized Charles Schumer of New York to lead the
negotiations with Senate Republicans. Schumer chairs the Democrats'
Senate campaign committee and is thus the guy who makes nice to the
wealthy contributors. They are the only people who pay this tax.
Oddly enough, though they are in the minority, Senate Democrats should
have the high ground on this issue. If they unite to block any further
action by Republicans, the original estate tax will automatically come
back into full effect in 2011. Bush's massive tax-cutting bill in 2001
dramatized this long-established provision as the "death tax" and
further confused the public about the impact repeal would have on
government programs. Bush's too-cute concoction provided that the estate
tax was to be slowly reduced but not repealed in full until 2010. To
conceal the true long-term revenue losses--approaching $1 trillion--the
legislation was then designed to expire in 2011. So essentially the
repeal has to be enacted again to become permanent. The House
Republicans have already done so.
Democrats, instead of digging in for a five-year fight of
resistance, already wish to fold. They are terrified of the
tax-cutting issue, despite their supposed devotion to fiscal rectitude.
Plus, seven Democratic senators have already voted for repeal on one
occasion or another, so Republican pressure might be able to pick off
enough votes to overcome a filibuster. The Dems' haste to settle the
matter also reflects a gloomy, though unspoken, assumption that they are
not likely to regain a Senate majority anytime soon--not in 2006, 2008
or 2010.
On the other hand, Dems could win a standoff if they truly believed in
the issue. In reality, some Republican senators are very nervous about
their party's huge deficits and agree that the estate-tax repeal is
impossible to defend in these circumstances. Dems could plausibly build
a coalition of forty-plus votes, which would hold the line.
The negotiating arithmetic looks like this: Senate Republicans propose
a revived estate tax with a rate of 15 percent--compared with the old
rate of 55 percent--and a very generous exemption of $8 million per
estate, compared with the old exemption of $1 million. This is the
virtual equivalent of full repeal, since it would lose 90 percent of
revenue. The Dems' so-called "reform" counters with a proposed tax rate
of 45 percent and a household exemption of $2-$2.5 million. That
formulation loses around $420 billion over ten years. The supporters
claim that this is probably the best that can be achieved, but they are
surrendering to the Dems' usual logic of retreat: Better give in because
the Republicans are going to beat us anyway. Once again, Dems are
allowing the weakest collaborators in their ranks to define the party's
position. Then they wonder why the public doesn't think their party has
any values.
Schumer's position is unknown, but he's collaborating with a group of
twelve Democratic senators, many of whom want far more generous tax
relief for the wealth-holders. The fear is that Schumer and friends will
end up splitting the difference with the right wing. Comfort the
big-money campaign contributors, make the problem go away. An estate-tax
rate of 35 percent, for instance, would lose an estimated $546 billion.
Again, that money would be dispersed to a very small group of very
wealthy citizens, some of whom are Democrats too.
The Democratic action is shocking and cynical. It ought to trigger a
storm of protest from the liberal faithful and heavy bombardments from
progressive bloggers. Dem leaders know they will likely offend
rank-and-file supporters, but they also figure they can get away with
it. Past experience tells them they will pay no real price beyond a
certain amount of angry wailing for going against the party's popular
base.
The rancid politics of retreat created the minority status and promises
to sustain it. It tells me the party in Washington is not likely to
change much until groups of aroused outsiders, progressives and others,
are truly mobilized to punish their wayward and disloyal incumbents.
That is, attack them frontally for selling out, run candidates against
them in party primaries, weaken their public reputations and, yes, even
cause their defeat to Republicans in general elections.
Loyal Democrats are naturally reluctant to employ this hardball strategy
for fear of further weakening the minority party. But nothing changes
minds in Congress like seeing one or two colleagues cut down by their
own loyal constituents on matters of principle the pols didn't take
seriously (this is essentially how right-wingers transformed the
Republican Party).
Democratic incumbents do not expect this to happen to them. They believe
they're free to serve up the high-minded rhetoric to the party's
faithful foot soldiers while they work out the money deals with the
other side.
National affairs correspondent William Greider has been a political journalist for more than thirty-five years.
© 2005 The Nation
###