All of Washington knows DeLay as “The Hammer.” But when the Congress returns in January, he will become an entire toolbox–and one that the president will have to handle with care. As the new majority leader (Dick Armey retired), DeLay will control the flow of legislation and committee assignments in the one chamber–the House–that can actually be controlled. (Running the Senate, says Lott, is like trying to haul bullfrogs in a wheelbarrow.) DeLay’s former lieutenants (including Hastert) control all key positions, and won all elections last week for new leadership slots. A staunch conservative with an unrivaled, ever-evolving fund-raising machine, DeLay may be the opponent that focuses the mind of confused and rudderless Democrats. He can also be Bush’s best friend–guarding the president’s right flank, playing the tough legislative cop (think of a domestic Donald Rumsfeld) and blessing final deals. Or he can become his fellow Texan’s worst enemy (and White House adviser Karl Rove’s worst nightmare), leading “The Base” in revolt if he decides that Bush, like his father, really isn’t True Right enough. “He’s King of the Hill,” says a GOP insider.
Delay’s wish list for next year includes bans on partial-birth abortion and human cloning, and tax cuts that go well beyond the president’s initial aim of making his 10-year income-tax reductions permanent. He is eager to take the lead in demonizing the trial lawyers, who have long since replaced Big Labor and “welfare cheats” as the GOP’s favorite bogeymen. Increasingly venturing into foreign policy, he’s given hard-line speeches against Yasir Arafat and Saddam Hussein–harbingers of the Bushies’ own uncompromising line.
Congressional leaders are frank about using their clout for porkish purposes, and DeLay is no exception. One of the last-minute amendments that caused problems in the Senate was his own. It makes Texas A&M, his daughter’s alma mater and home to the Bush Library, the center for the study of homeland security.
But as DeLay rises, so does his need to move legislation that doesn’t necessarily please The Base. DeLay now finds himself at war with a leading grass-roots conservative. James Dobson of Focus on the Family, a prominent abortion foe and radio broadcaster, accuses DeLay of breaking a promise to protect the rights of pro-life activists in a bankruptcy-reform bill. DeLay ended up siding with business interests that wanted the bill, rather than the pro-lifers who opposed it. DeLay insists that he had worked out a deal that should have satisfied Dobson, and that he didn’t go back on his word. (In the end, the bill failed, with DeLay on the losing side.) The details are arcane, but DeLay’s angry response was not: Dobson, he snapped, “doesn’t always tell the truth.” It sounded like The Hammer of old, but a Hammer striking out in a whole new direction.
