Cunningham's Fall From Grace, Power

WASHINGTON — Bombastic and prone to speak first and think about it later, Randy "Duke" Cunningham was never known for understatement or the subtle approach in Congress. But the rampage he went on in the spring of 2000 was something else, even by his standards.

Three years earlier, using his position on a House defense subcommittee, he had bulldozed the Pentagon into buying a $20-million system it didn't want for digitizing paper documents. Predictably, the military dragged its feet on implementing the system, and Cunningham exploded.

During a subcommittee hearing, the California Republican demanded that the Pentagon official he blamed for the delays be fired.

"I want Lou Kratz removed from office," Cunningham thundered. "I think he's incompetent. And I'm calling for his removal. I've had it."

At the time, Cunningham's harsh rhetoric and extreme advocacy for a relatively minor program attracted virtually no attention.

More than five years would pass before it became clear exactly why Cunningham had gone to such extremes: The small information technology company involved with the digitization project was allegedly one of two obscure defense contractors that secretly showered Cunningham with an estimated $2.4 million in cash and expensive gifts -- including a Rolls-Royce, money to buy a posh 8,000-square-foot house, and a cornucopia of antique furniture, Oriental rugs and jewelry.

Last Monday, in a move that left many of his friends and colleagues professing shock and bewilderment, Cunningham, 63, pleaded guilty to federal corruption charges and announced he was resigning from Congress.

Washington is no stranger to congressional scandals; even now, several others are swirling around the Capitol. But the Cunningham case stands apart, both for the brashness of his actions and for the dizzying nature of his fall.

When it comes to using power in Congress and dealing with private companies and individuals, members of the House and the Senate have ways of achieving their ends while staying safely inside none-too-confining laws and ethics rules. But Cunningham seems to have been ignorant or disdainful of such niceties. As set out in the indictment and plea agreement, he operated like an old-fashioned ward boss with his hand out.

"The conduct is certainly brazen," said Kenneth Gross, a Washington lawyer and former chief of enforcement at the Federal Election Commission. "It is hard to understand what was going on in his mind."