K Street Confidential
In case you missed it, House Republicans are having a bit of a, well, family crisis. It's inspired by, of all things, the Justice Department, which seems to believe it's a bad idea for members of Congress to take bribes from lobbyists. That was bad news for ex-superlobbyist Jack Abramoff and his former partner, Mike Scanlon. Both copped pleas and are now singing to the feds. And that's really bad news for members with whom the two did business--a list dominated by (but not exclusive to) Republicans. The biggest fish: Tom DeLay, whose announcement that he wouldn't seek to regain his leadership job was underscored by the fact that two of his former top aides have been implicated in the Abramoff mess.
So what's the first thing Republicans rush to do in the post-DeLay era? Reform lobbying, of course. Things were so dire, in fact, that House Speaker Dennis Hastert backed out of a congressional trip to India. Why such self-sacrifice? First, Hastert may have been getting a tad antsy about hanging on to his own job. (He did, after all, feel compelled to donate some $69,000 in Abramoff-tainted money to charity.) Then he decided to take charge and try to transform his party into a reform movement.
Hastert had little choice. As former House leader Vin Weber told me, "Lobbying reform is going to pass in the wake of this scandal. The Republicans would be foolish not to take charge of that process and at least take some credit for it." Weber remembers when he and other Newt Gingrich allies took over the House in 1994, decrying the "corrupt" Democratic majority. Democrats, he says, "put their heads in the sand" and got hammered. "You can't pretend that nothing needs to happen."
So the reform rush is on. Forget about Tom DeLay's "K Street Project," in which he pressured trade associations and lobbying firms to hire Republicans. This is a new and refreshed Republican Party. Just one problem, though: Both of the front-runners for DeLay's job are longtime participants in--and beneficiaries of--the gilded age of Washington lobbying. Missouri's Roy Blunt is a DeLay prot?g? who was helpful to Abramoff and his Indian clients. And Ohio's John Boehner, who chairs the House Education Committee, runs something called the Freedom Project, a lobbyist-financed group that contributes to Republicans and, according to the Washington Post, spent tens of thousands of dollars on meals at a fancy restaurant and golf fees at an exclusive club near Washington. So why not reach down to a new generation not so closely tied to the old ways of doing business? Maybe it's because Republicans just aren't scared enough of losing control: Most members now serving don't recall what it was like to be in the minority for a generation.
Counting noses. They might be wise to consult some recent polls--like the CBS survey that found congressional job approval at an abysmal 27 percent, down 17 points from just a year ago. And while the public doesn't have a high opinion of anyone's ethics in Congress, Republicans are nearly twice as likely to be seen as the party that is more "financially corrupt." Ten months before the midterm elections, that's definitely not good news for the GOP.
So what about this ballyhooed reform plan? No doubt Republicans and Democrats will be racing to outreform each other, and that may be a good thing. Some helpful ideas: ban lobbyist-sponsored trips, lengthen the time ex-pols and staff must wait before lobbying (now it's just a year), require more disclosure of lobbyist contacts, and, hey, maybe even outlaw Washington fundraisers. All of this would be good, but here's the scam nobody's talking about: Members can set up their own personal charities and use them to disburse funds to whomever they please. "It's now a part of every lobbyist's strategy,"one lobbyist told me. "And there's lots of room for abuse." Ya think?
But all is not lost, at least not yet. After all, there's one really great thing about congressional leadership races: They are held by secret ballot. Just last week, the two top candidates for majority leader were claiming they were close to victory. That's probably what each man has been told, but members can pledge their support and then do exactly as they please. Backbenchers have complicated matters deliciously by urging their colleagues not to commit publicly to anyone. Last week, one dark horse emerged--John Shadegg of Arizona, promising real reform. I say the more the merrier. After all, the Republican majority hangs in the balance--and members just might get bold when it's in their own self-interest. And when the vote is secret.
This story appears in the January 23, 2006 print edition of U.S. News & World Report.