Free Do Not Ask What Good We Do: Inside the U.S. House of Representatives by Robert Draper

business. Even before Gingrich became Speaker and routinely sent over to the Appropriations Committee lists of federal projects to fund for Republicans in vulnerable districts, Boehner as a freshman took to the House floor to excoriate the 1991 Highway Bill, which bore the fingerprints of eventual Transportation Committee chairman Bud Shuster: “I stand opposed to this legislation because spreading pork around to secure enough votes to pass this turkey is wrong!”
    As GOP conference chairman, Boehner continued to criticize Chairman Shuster’s earmarking antics. He was warned by colleagues, “This could be trouble for you.” It was. After Gingrich had worn out his welcome and skulked off in 1998 following a poor performance by Republicans in the midterms, the conference reckoned that more changes in leadership needed to be made. J. C. Watts of Oklahoma ran for Boehner’s job. Some thought Watts, at the time the party’s only black House member, would be a fresh messenger. Others, like DeLay and Hastert, believed that Boehner had botched his job overseeing the House Republican communications apparatus. Then there was Shuster, who had a long memory and a formidable bloc of indebted colleagues.
    On the evening after he was pushed out of leadership, Boehner went out with about thirty allies to Sam & Harry’s, a Capitol Hill steakhouse. He blubbered a bit that night, but he also declared bravely to his disheartened staffers, “Look, sometimes blessings come in a form where they’re not immediately obvious.” It was the kind of thing someone’s grandmother would say. It was also common Boehner-speak. He seemed to actually believe it.
    Following a script carefully plotted by his chief of staff, Barry Jackson, the deposed conference chairman reestablished himself as a legislator. He took over the chairmanship of the Education Committee’s most desolate backwater, the Subcommittee on Employer-Employee Relations. Showing a surprisingly aggressive streak, Chairman Boehner won a few turf wars and steered important legislation through his bailiwick. He became the full committee chairman in January 2001 and immediately caught a big break when the new Republican president, George W. Bush, decided to lead off with the No Child Left Behind education initiative. Boehner’s work on the bill with Bush, Senator Ted Kennedy, and California Congressman George Miller won glowing reviews.
    His fellow Republicans appeared to be developing a case of seller’s remorse. One night at a party banquet, a longtime ally, Indiana Congressman Steve Buyer, stood up and began to praise Boehner’s comportment after having been rejected by his colleagues. “You’re like that first-string quarterback who’s asked to come to the sidelines,” Buyer said as he faced his friend. “And when you did, you didn’t just sit on the bench. You grabbed a clipboard and a headset, and you started helping the quarterback on the field. That’s the kind of guy you are!”
    The attendees leaped from their chairs and awarded a standing ovation to Boehner—who, being Boehner, proceeded to weep.
    In January 2006, Tom DeLay was collared with a federal indictment for illegally transferring campaign contributions to fellow Republicans and was forced by Speaker Hastert to vacate the post of majority leader. John Boehner lunged out of the wilderness. FOR A MAJORITY THAT MATTERS , read the title of his majority leader campaign document. “We seem adrift, uncomfortable with our ability to reach big goals,” he wrote. “America needs more from us . . . My goal is to create a confident majority . . .” Deftly turning his aversion to earmarks to his advantage, Boehner reminded his colleagues that “I cut my teeth here as a reformer,” suggesting that he was uniquely qualified to lead the party out of the brewing scandal involving GOP lobbyist and DeLay friend Jack Abramoff. The Education Committee chairman now proclaimed that “the lifeblood of the House runs through