Washington - It was a political performance of rare ambiguity, staged in the solemn marble of the U.S. Senate. On Tuesday afternoon, precisely at 2:42 p.m., Lisa Murkowski cast her vote - “Yes.” Seconds later, it was official: Donald Trump’s multibillion-dollar spending and tax bill, the so-called “One Big Beautiful Bill,” had passed. 51 to 50 votes. The decision was tight - and Murkowski’s yes was decisive. But barely had the ink dried on the record when the Republican senator from Alaska struck a different tone. In a statement as cold as the wind off the Gulf of Alaska, she sharply criticized the bill. It contained “unacceptable risks to social safety systems,” placed “enormous implementation burdens” on Alaska, and was in large parts “not sustainably financed.” Her public disavowal came less than an hour after her support - and immediately became political cannon fodder.
“Oh well,” a Democratic senator commented laconically on X (formerly Twitter). And indeed, Murkowski’s tactical split seemed like the very symbol of a party entangled between loyalty and responsibility. The reasons for her yes were obvious: massive concessions for her home state. The final version of the bill includes millions in aid for fisheries, tax breaks for Arctic supply flights, and an exemption for indigenous health centers in Alaska - all demands Murkowski had pushed for in the final rounds of negotiation. But what does it say about the state of American lawmaking when pivotal votes are bought and regretted - within the same hour? Trump’s megabill is seen as the most ambitious but also most radical initiative of his second term. It bundles tax cuts for the wealthy, billions more for border enforcement, drastic reductions in social programs, and special rules for business-friendly states. Critics call it the “Big Ugly Bill.” But in political Washington, everyone knows - the truth often lies in the spin. Murkowski may find it ugly - but she still carried it.
It’s a pattern that repeats itself under Trump’s administration: approval out of political calculation, followed by symbolic distancing. And it reveals the entire dilemma of Republican moderates - they can’t live with Trump, but they can’t go against him either. Lisa Murkowski, who once voted against Brett Kavanaugh and condemned Trump’s election lies, has long become a master of the political balancing act. But this time, even party allies say behind closed doors, she has severely damaged her own credibility. What remains is a law that reshapes the social fabric of the United States - with consequences far beyond Alaska. And a senator who reminds us just how thin the line is between principles and political reality. The only question that remains: Is this still democratic politics?
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