The morning meeting of House Republicans on the day of Newt Gingrich’s reelection as speaker was highlighted by pro-Gingrich speeches from two Democratturned-Republicans — Billy Tauzin and Mike Parker. Both argued that their old colleagues, under the same circumstances, would have unflinchingly put loyalty to their party above all other considerations. Other notable speeches came from a visibly shaken Tom Campbell, rising to explain why he wouldn’t be voting for Gingrich, and fellow moderate Marge Roukema, trying to extract from the leadership some rules changes in exchange for her support. She was rebuffed but supported the speaker anyway.
In contrast to the disciplined, hard-headed display of old-fashioned political muscle that had just gotten him the speaker’s job for a second term, Gingrich’s speech looked like it would take up where the maudlin San Diego convention left off last summer (you remember — the tear-jerking show that oh so successfully boosted Bob Dole’s soccer-mom vote). Gingrich last week launched into a misbegotten parallel between the need to rethink race relations and the resistance of Olympics bureaucrats thirty-some years ago to Dick Fosbury’s innovative high-jump technique. But just as he was conjuring up memories of his illfated beach-volleyball metaphor in San Diego, the speaker managed to find his footing and go on to deliver a speech that was vintage Gingrich (1994 vintage, that is). In its celebration of the American spirit and its upbeat arguments for serious conservative reforms such as the rollback of affirmative action and the curbing of judicial activism, the speech was an unanticipated triumph. Perhaps Gingrich remembered in time to stop himself that the highdump innovation he was about to commend came to be known as the Fosbury Flop.
