With No Plan B, House Reluctantly Passes Politically Risky Measure

By Monday morning, Sept. 22, opposition was popping up all over the House. While Hensarling made a tactical decision not to avoid outright opposition so he would not be locked out of the negotiating process, Rep. Mike Pence (Ind.), his colleague in the Republican Study Committee, took that role, rallying colleagues against Paulson.

At a meeting of the group in the Rayburn House Office Building, only two of 40 lawmakers supported the Paulson plan. A rump caucus was also developing on the Democratic side, or at least a Skeptics' Caucus. That was the name organizer Rep. Brad Sherman (Calif.) gave the gathering that day at the Financial Services Committee room in the Rayburn building.

His session drew a dozen lawmakers, including arch-conservatives such as Rep. Louie Gohmert, a former judge from northeast Texas, and about 50 staff members. When the meeting adjourned, Sherman called the Paulson plan "the biggest power grab ever by the imperial presidency."

But to the congressional leadership, Paulson and Bernanke had given them little choice but to plow forward. Their message had been to act swiftly or face calamity. "Once they said it, then our options are limited," Frank said.

Tuesday marked the beginning of the administration's full-court press. It was not an overwhelming effort. At nine that morning, House Republicans gathered in the Cannon caucus room to hear from Vice President Cheney, reading from a prepared statement in a monotone voice. The meeting went horribly awry, according to several Republican lawmakers and aides. One called it among the five worst conference meetings Republicans have ever held.

No Arms Left to Twist

As the week drew to a close, Rep. John R. "Randy" Kuhl Jr. (R-N.Y.) printed out countless articles to educate himself on the financial mess. He read them wherever he could, at home or the office. With everything spinning wildly around him, he considered it "a challenge, to absorb all that information." His "Kuhl Chronicle," an internal newsletter in the district and Washington office, would list the number of e-mails and calls received from constituents. The previous week, there had been about 40. Now, as this week was nearing an end, the total was reaching 1,000.

He was sitting in the House cloakroom on Friday, Sept. 26, when Boehner walked in, bringing with him the stench of cigarettes. Boehner was a smoker, and he was smoking more now. Kuhl got up to talk to him, explaining his concerns and his growing opposition to the bill. He was not trying to foment rebellion, but he had his problems. He said he had been hearing from many angry constituents about the "total reliance on taxpayer dollars as a mechanism to allow this thing to happen."

The volume of his mail was getting his attention. And what he was hearing from financial people in his community was not quite aligning with the horrors Paulson and Bernanke expressed. In many cases, he said, business people back home were saying, "Look, this is not our problem. We are small community banks or credit unions who have been responsible lenders. We haven't gone the subprime-mortgage route. Don't charge me for the cost of bailing out the system of people who walked away with millions of dollars."

Little had changed by Monday, but with the Jewish New Year approaching, Paulson was demanding a vote. Blunt, the minority whip, said it should have been postponed, but he felt confident that he could round up the dozen or so votes he still needed on the floor.

As the vote clock ticked toward zero and the no's piled up, the market began to crash. "Just want you all to know the market is down 650 points," shouted Brian Gaston, Blunt's chief of staff, as he scoured the floor for votes. "It's dropped 450 points since this vote started."

House Majority Leader Steny H. Hoyer (D-Md.) and House Democratic Caucus Chairman Rahm Emanuel (Ill.) had leadership aides wave Blunt over. If the Republicans could deliver six vote switchers, they said, the Democrats could, too.

GOP leaders looked around for the half-dozen lawmakers who they thought would vote aye if it would make a difference. Aides e-mailed the chiefs of staff, asking where they were. One by one, the same message came back: "My boss is on the way to the airport."