DeLay's Smile
♠
When DeLay was booked on the Texas charges, he wore his Congressional I.D. pin and flashed a broad smile designed to thwart Democrats who had hoped to make wide use of an image of a glowering DeLay. "I said a little prayer before I actually did the fingerprint thing, and the picture," he said. "My prayer was basically: 'Let people see Christ through me. And let me smile.' Now, when they took the shot, from my side, I thought it was fakiest smile I'd ever given. But through the camera, it was glowing. I mean, it had the right impact. Poor old left couldn't use it at all."
-- Jason Zengerle for The New Republic
It is enough for me that Mr. DeLay had to go through that fingerprint and mugshot thing, not to mention having to give up his seat in Congress, heh. But I have to admire the man's pluck and drive. We have been following this man's story, and it seems worthwhile to get down what could be seen as his political obituary, though calling it that could just give DeLay the opportunity to later boast that reports of his death are wildly exaggerated, which may be true. An angle that some take on this story is that this also could be the end of that hardball, corrupt era for which the Hammer was so well suited, but that also may be too optimistic.
___ ___ ___
WASHINGTON, April 4 — Representative Tom DeLay was the last man standing among the top three Republicans who took control of the House after the 1994 Republican landslide, and he leaves, in many ways, the most complex and contentious legacy from their conservative reign on Capitol Hill.
Mr. DeLay, who stepped down as majority leader last fall after being indicted in Texas, told his constituents on Tuesday that he would not run for re-election and would resign from Congress in the next few months.
He acknowledged that the criminal inquiries into former aides and his own activities had affected his re-election prospects and said he did not want to give Democrats "an opportunity to steal this seat with a negative, personal campaign."
For 11 tumultuous years, Mr. DeLay proved remarkably effective in pushing the Republican agenda through the House — tax cuts, budget cuts, an overhaul of Medicare and energy bills — pulling the necessary 218 votes together from often narrow and fractious Republican majorities.
But he was also a man who, perhaps more than any other, embodied the fierce partisanship of his era — a prime mover behind the impeachment of President Bill Clinton, a practitioner of take-no-prisoners electoral politics and a legislative strategist who many Democrats asserted saw no real role for the minority in the legislative process.
Scholars and analysts disagree over the extent to which Mr. DeLay created — or reflected — the intense polarization of his times.
But his decision to resign under fire clearly ends an era that began in 1995, with Newt Gingrich as House speaker, Dick Armey as majority leader and Tom DeLay as majority whip. Regardless of whether Republicans retain or lose their majority in November, politics in the post-DeLay era will be different, lawmakers in both parties say.
Mr. DeLay tested the limits — of ideological change, of partisan politics and of the use of money and interest groups in the service of maintaining power. He departs as his party scrambles to find a new formula for an increasingly dissatisfied electorate that gives low marks to Congress and to President Bush.
In some ways, the national political mood is similar to the one in 1994, when voters turned out the Democratic majorities in the House and the Senate. Vin Weber, a former Republican House member and lobbyist, said of Mr. DeLay: "He was the leader of the Republican Party at a time of maximum ideological polarization between the parties, and he was successful in that era. I think that era is coming to an end. What will replace it, I don't know."
At his peak, Mr. DeLay enforced iron party discipline, built on loyalty, political assistance and, critics said, a heavy dose of fear. For much of his time in the leadership, though he was never in the top position, he was arguably the most powerful member of the House.
Representative Tom Cole of Oklahoma, a Republican strategist, said, "He was enormously important in creating the Republican majority, sustaining that majority and determining to some degree who the leadership of that majority would be."
Julian E. Zelizer, a history professor at Boston University who is an expert on Congress, credited Mr. DeLay with giving the conservative movement "Congressional muscle and a Congressional presence," helping to turn it, in fact, into a "congressionally based movement that he was at the center of."
But his drive to harness the power of lobbyists and political money to help the Republican Party and its agenda became the most powerful symbol of what Democrats invariably called "the culture of corruption."
Mr. DeLay was indicted last fall by a Texas grand jury that accused him of breaking campaign finance laws, a spinoff of what critics asserted was an extraordinarily partisan maneuver in Texas redistricting.
In separate corruption cases, Jack Abramoff, a former lobbyist and onetime ally, and two of Mr. DeLay's former aides have pleaded guilty and are cooperating with federal prosecutors.
Mr. DeLay has insisted that he has done nothing wrong. He repeated that on Tuesday, saying, "I have no fear whatsoever about any investigation into me or my personal or professional activities."
In a measure of how polarizing Mr. DeLay has become, many conservatives expressed a belief that he was being hounded by political enemies.
"It's driven by hatred and politics far more than substance," said Representative Jack Kingston of Georgia, vice chairman of the Republican conference.
But the old order was cracking. Paul Weyrich, a longtime conservative activist, said Mr. DeLay was "the one member in the leadership who absolutely put the movement ahead of everything else."
Mr. Weyrich added that although most Republican leaders these days "vote right on social issues, DeLay actually cared about them."
With Mr. DeLay's departure, he added, "there is a vacuum."
Many Democrats said Mr. DeLay left a different legacy, a House whose rules and civilities will need to be painfully restored. They cited the roll-call votes held open way beyond the normal time limits and quickly closed when Republicans formed majorities, and the conference committees where Democratic participation was in name only.
Martin Frost, a longtime Democratic member who lost his seat after his district was dismantled in the Texas redistricting that Mr. DeLay pushed through, said: "The means he used damaged the House as an institution. And it will take some time to restore democracy to the House."
Democrats remember, bitterly, that the Republicans took power promising a more open, democratic House. John J. Pitney, a professor of government at Claremont McKenna College, said Mr. DeLay continued trends that began in the 80's: polarization between the parties and aggressive fund-raising.
"He's part of an action-reaction cycle," Professor Pitney said. "Polarization on one side prompts polarization on the other. Tom Delay is one reason why Nancy Pelosi is leader of the Democrats."
Many Republicans up for re-election have little stomach for such politics and are more concerned about their districts and political survival than the broader ideological agenda. The party unity in Mr. DeLay's glory days is no longer the norm. At one time, said Representative Barney Frank, Democrat of Massachusetts, Republicans worried more about primary challenges than re-election in November.
To some Republicans, 1994 seems a long time ago. Representative John A. Boehner of Ohio, the majority leader, noted at a news conference on Tuesday that he was chairman of the House Republican conference in that first leadership team.
"I am the last man standing," Mr. Boehner said after taking questions on ethics, the Republicans' prospects and the voting on a budget this week.
-- Robin Toner, "A Partisan Leaves; Will an Era Follow?" in The NY Times
xXx
When DeLay was booked on the Texas charges, he wore his Congressional I.D. pin and flashed a broad smile designed to thwart Democrats who had hoped to make wide use of an image of a glowering DeLay. "I said a little prayer before I actually did the fingerprint thing, and the picture," he said. "My prayer was basically: 'Let people see Christ through me. And let me smile.' Now, when they took the shot, from my side, I thought it was fakiest smile I'd ever given. But through the camera, it was glowing. I mean, it had the right impact. Poor old left couldn't use it at all."
-- Jason Zengerle for The New Republic
It is enough for me that Mr. DeLay had to go through that fingerprint and mugshot thing, not to mention having to give up his seat in Congress, heh. But I have to admire the man's pluck and drive. We have been following this man's story, and it seems worthwhile to get down what could be seen as his political obituary, though calling it that could just give DeLay the opportunity to later boast that reports of his death are wildly exaggerated, which may be true. An angle that some take on this story is that this also could be the end of that hardball, corrupt era for which the Hammer was so well suited, but that also may be too optimistic.
___ ___ ___
WASHINGTON, April 4 — Representative Tom DeLay was the last man standing among the top three Republicans who took control of the House after the 1994 Republican landslide, and he leaves, in many ways, the most complex and contentious legacy from their conservative reign on Capitol Hill.
Mr. DeLay, who stepped down as majority leader last fall after being indicted in Texas, told his constituents on Tuesday that he would not run for re-election and would resign from Congress in the next few months.
He acknowledged that the criminal inquiries into former aides and his own activities had affected his re-election prospects and said he did not want to give Democrats "an opportunity to steal this seat with a negative, personal campaign."
For 11 tumultuous years, Mr. DeLay proved remarkably effective in pushing the Republican agenda through the House — tax cuts, budget cuts, an overhaul of Medicare and energy bills — pulling the necessary 218 votes together from often narrow and fractious Republican majorities.
But he was also a man who, perhaps more than any other, embodied the fierce partisanship of his era — a prime mover behind the impeachment of President Bill Clinton, a practitioner of take-no-prisoners electoral politics and a legislative strategist who many Democrats asserted saw no real role for the minority in the legislative process.
Scholars and analysts disagree over the extent to which Mr. DeLay created — or reflected — the intense polarization of his times.
But his decision to resign under fire clearly ends an era that began in 1995, with Newt Gingrich as House speaker, Dick Armey as majority leader and Tom DeLay as majority whip. Regardless of whether Republicans retain or lose their majority in November, politics in the post-DeLay era will be different, lawmakers in both parties say.
Mr. DeLay tested the limits — of ideological change, of partisan politics and of the use of money and interest groups in the service of maintaining power. He departs as his party scrambles to find a new formula for an increasingly dissatisfied electorate that gives low marks to Congress and to President Bush.
In some ways, the national political mood is similar to the one in 1994, when voters turned out the Democratic majorities in the House and the Senate. Vin Weber, a former Republican House member and lobbyist, said of Mr. DeLay: "He was the leader of the Republican Party at a time of maximum ideological polarization between the parties, and he was successful in that era. I think that era is coming to an end. What will replace it, I don't know."
At his peak, Mr. DeLay enforced iron party discipline, built on loyalty, political assistance and, critics said, a heavy dose of fear. For much of his time in the leadership, though he was never in the top position, he was arguably the most powerful member of the House.
Representative Tom Cole of Oklahoma, a Republican strategist, said, "He was enormously important in creating the Republican majority, sustaining that majority and determining to some degree who the leadership of that majority would be."
Julian E. Zelizer, a history professor at Boston University who is an expert on Congress, credited Mr. DeLay with giving the conservative movement "Congressional muscle and a Congressional presence," helping to turn it, in fact, into a "congressionally based movement that he was at the center of."
But his drive to harness the power of lobbyists and political money to help the Republican Party and its agenda became the most powerful symbol of what Democrats invariably called "the culture of corruption."
Mr. DeLay was indicted last fall by a Texas grand jury that accused him of breaking campaign finance laws, a spinoff of what critics asserted was an extraordinarily partisan maneuver in Texas redistricting.
In separate corruption cases, Jack Abramoff, a former lobbyist and onetime ally, and two of Mr. DeLay's former aides have pleaded guilty and are cooperating with federal prosecutors.
Mr. DeLay has insisted that he has done nothing wrong. He repeated that on Tuesday, saying, "I have no fear whatsoever about any investigation into me or my personal or professional activities."
In a measure of how polarizing Mr. DeLay has become, many conservatives expressed a belief that he was being hounded by political enemies.
"It's driven by hatred and politics far more than substance," said Representative Jack Kingston of Georgia, vice chairman of the Republican conference.
But the old order was cracking. Paul Weyrich, a longtime conservative activist, said Mr. DeLay was "the one member in the leadership who absolutely put the movement ahead of everything else."
Mr. Weyrich added that although most Republican leaders these days "vote right on social issues, DeLay actually cared about them."
With Mr. DeLay's departure, he added, "there is a vacuum."
Many Democrats said Mr. DeLay left a different legacy, a House whose rules and civilities will need to be painfully restored. They cited the roll-call votes held open way beyond the normal time limits and quickly closed when Republicans formed majorities, and the conference committees where Democratic participation was in name only.
Martin Frost, a longtime Democratic member who lost his seat after his district was dismantled in the Texas redistricting that Mr. DeLay pushed through, said: "The means he used damaged the House as an institution. And it will take some time to restore democracy to the House."
Democrats remember, bitterly, that the Republicans took power promising a more open, democratic House. John J. Pitney, a professor of government at Claremont McKenna College, said Mr. DeLay continued trends that began in the 80's: polarization between the parties and aggressive fund-raising.
"He's part of an action-reaction cycle," Professor Pitney said. "Polarization on one side prompts polarization on the other. Tom Delay is one reason why Nancy Pelosi is leader of the Democrats."
Many Republicans up for re-election have little stomach for such politics and are more concerned about their districts and political survival than the broader ideological agenda. The party unity in Mr. DeLay's glory days is no longer the norm. At one time, said Representative Barney Frank, Democrat of Massachusetts, Republicans worried more about primary challenges than re-election in November.
To some Republicans, 1994 seems a long time ago. Representative John A. Boehner of Ohio, the majority leader, noted at a news conference on Tuesday that he was chairman of the House Republican conference in that first leadership team.
"I am the last man standing," Mr. Boehner said after taking questions on ethics, the Republicans' prospects and the voting on a budget this week.
-- Robin Toner, "A Partisan Leaves; Will an Era Follow?" in The NY Times
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