Washington's Classic Exit: A Defiant Spin Out the Door

Photos
Rep. Tom DeLay to Leave Congress
Tom DeLay, a primary architect of the House Republican majority who became one of the most powerful leaders in Washington, told House allies on April 3 that he will step down rather than face a reelection fight that appears increasingly unwinnable.

The notion of leaving the game but claiming victory isn't unique to politics. Athletes sometimes paint their losses as wins, though not always convincingly. Soldiers have been known to declare victory and go home.

Still, there's something so Washington about the defiant resignation, the politician-as-Terminator ( I'll be back ). Or -- in the case of Texas Republican Rep. Tom DeLay -- the exterminator as Terminator, a man who intends to continue fighting, only now as a private citizen.

We've seen defiance in defeat many times before: Forty-odd years ago, a candidate on the wrong end of the California governor's race seethed at the media: "You won't have Dick Nixon to kick around anymore."

Four years ago, New Jersey Democrat Robert Torricelli abandoned his bid for a second Senate term amid ethical troubles.

"Don't feel badly for me," the self-described "fighter" said. "I've changed people's lives."

This is what people call being bloodied but unbowed. In announcing he'd give up his House seat rather than run for reelection and risk losing amid allegations of money laundering, DeLay was proud. He was combative. He was determined to come back. He was everything anybody who ever knew the pugnacious Texan would expect.

"Who wants to see him crying like Jimmy Swaggart?" asks political analyst Charlie Cook. "At this point I would be disappointed if Tom DeLay left any way but defiant."

"DeLay had a reputation for not running from a fight," says Republican strategist Ed Rogers. Remember that mug shot of the former House majority leader after he was booked in Texas, that victorous grin? Rogers says that smile was the equivalent of DeLay "giving his opponents the finger."

DeLay apparently concurs, although he might put it differently. In an interview with Time magazine yesterday, he said of the photograph, "Poor old Left couldn't use it at all."

DeLay's smile had been his shield throughout the ethics investigations. He showcased it again in a taped resignation speech proclaiming his innocence, after telling his audience not to believe the "political pundits and media."

"I am quite certain most will put forward their opinions and conclusions devoid of and unencumbered by accuracy, facts and the truth," he said. "So I thought I might try to make everyone's job a little easier."

As he said that, he spread his clasped hands like a butterfly and smiled. I'll be back .