When the original assault weapons ban was considered nearly three decades ago, Congress’ partisan lines were a bit messier than they are now. For example, 77 House Democrats opposed the bill, while 38 House Republicans voted for it. The result was a narrow, 216 to 214 victory.
Late last week, when the newest version of the policy reached the floor, the parties were far more united. NBC News reported:
The House passed legislation Friday that would ban assault weapons for the first time since 2004, in a sign that Democrats intend to pursue more aggressive gun violence prevention measures after a spate of mass shootings…. The legislation, authored by Rep. David Cicilline, D-R.I., would criminalize the knowing sale, manufacture, transfer, possession or importation of many types of semi-automatic weapons and large-capacity ammunition feeding devices.
The final tally was 217 to 213. Five Democrats opposed the ban, which might’ve been enough to block the legislation were it not for two Republicans — Pennsylvania’s Brian Fitzpatrick and New York’s Chris Jacobs — who broke ranks and voted for the bill. (Jacobs, you might recall, endorsed an assault weapons ban after the recent racist mass shooting in Buffalo. A partisan backlash from the GOP base soon after forced him to announce his retirement.)
All of which leads to a sentence that I’ve typed so many times, I can practically do it while sleeping: The popular bill now heads to the Senate, where it will face an inevitable Republican filibuster. How many Capitol Hill observers believe it’s realistic to think 10 GOP senators will allow members to vote on the assault weapons ban? None. The votes simply aren’t there.
But before proponents grudgingly accept the political realities and turn their attention elsewhere, it’s worth taking a moment to reminisce about the circumstances that led to the passage of the original assault weapons ban in Bill Clinton’s first term.
The original ban was championed in the Senate by Democratic Sen. Dianne Feinstein of California, who pushed the policy as an amendment to a larger criminal justice package. On Nov. 17, 1993, it passed 56 to 43, fueled in part by 10 Republican votes.
Some readers are probably thinking, “Wait, how could the measure have passed with only 56 votes? Didn’t it need 60?” The answer is, no, it didn’t need 60 — and therein lies the point of this stroll down memory lane.
In 2022, filibusters requiring supermajorities are the norm for every bill in which the tactic can be applied, but what often goes overlooked, even by some sitting senators who apparently don’t know better, is that the Senate didn’t used to work this way. The routinization of the 60-vote threshold is a modern invention wholly at odds with the institution’s historical norms.









