Fans admire that bluntness almost as much as Tancredo's hard line on immigration. "He doesn't resort to the typical political correctness of wanting not to offend someone," said Paul Darafeev, a 50-year-old factory owner, who showed up in Newport Beach after hearing Tancredo on talk radio.
At times, it seems that Tancredo just itches to offend.
When the Denver Post profiled the honor roll student of an illegal immigrant family, Tancredo unsuccessfully tried to have the family deported.
Campaigning against the use of Mexican ID cards in the U.S., he posed in front of a mock consular photo of Mexican President Vicente Fox, drawing protests from the Mexican government.
His call to bomb Mecca, in a July radio interview, brought worldwide condemnation, including criticism from the State Department.
"I don't like when people call me a racist or a xenophobe, or all the rest of that," he says back in office, his voice softening. But then life is full of trade-offs. "I had to say the things I said in order ... to get the focus" on immigration.
His efforts haven't endeared Tancredo to many colleagues.
Darrell Issa, the California congressman who wants Tancredo banished from the GOP, says Tancredo shoots off his mouth while others do the serious work.
"It's easy to say, 'Things are wrong and I'm the only one with the truth,' " says the Vista Republican, who has repeatedly voted for tougher immigration laws. "But it's harder to meet your responsibility."
Tancredo scoffs. "I could spend from now until eternity in the process he's described and get squat," he says. The only reason lawmakers acted, he insists, is because of the grass-roots anger he incited.
"It's the best use of my time," he says, "and it makes them mad as hell."
Given his passion, then, it is surprising to hear Tancredo speak of legislation that makes him even prouder than his work on immigration.
Tancredo was just one co-sponsor of the 2002 Sudan Peace Act. But his work fulfilled a pledge he made to himself years ago after attending a church service devoted to the tortured African nation.
A photograph of Tancredo at the White House -- "way in the back!" -- and a pen Bush used to sign the bill have a prominent spot in his office, along with a cross, a sword and poster-size pictures of his grandkids. (There is also a bumper sticker reading, "Viva Tancredo.")
He makes no effort, when asked, to square his compassion for the Sudanese with critics' portrayals of him as an anti-immigrant ogre. "That's not my job," Tancredo says. "I am who I am."
With that, he steps from his office and strides through the Capitol, cigar ablaze. Smoking is prohibited. But Tancredo puffs away, paying no heed.
