MDNMTHE REVOLTING REPUBLICANS KEEP REST OF US IN STITCHES

Against my will and better judgment, I am growing fond of the Republican majority in Congress. I'm a sucker for a good comedy act.

We were treated to a stunning exhibition of Republican slapstick during the past week, when a group of conservatives, borrowing tactics from the Keystone Kops, tried to depose Newt Gingrich, the Don Corleone of the party. They failed, of course.

Is that a hoot or what? I mean, how long have the Republicans controlled Congress anyway, 15 minutes? Something like that. The first thing they did when they took control was to elect Gingrich speaker, join hands and promise to love, honor and obey until death did them part.

Now, angry that they haven't yet been able to remake the world in their image, they're trying to tie a tin can to him.

Not even the Dukes of Hazard were that funny.

The way it happened was, Dick Armey of Texas -- Gingrich's right-hand goon -- heard there was a revolt brewing among conservative Republicans over the way Gingrich has been leading; too much namby-pamby compromise, they complained. So he called around and said: "Say, if we do get rid of Newt, can I take his place?"

"No way," said the conservatives.

"Count me out," said Armey.

With loyalty like that, who needs traitors? Anyway, without Armey the plot fizzled, with the only obvious casualty being Bill Paxon, a New York congressman who quit his midlevel leadership post before he was fired. He, however, now stands poised as a legitimate rival to the Newtster and they're saying he will be the next speaker if and when Newt takes gas.

I can't tell you how extraordinary all of this is.

Political parties do not get rid of speakers in midstream. It just isn't done. The only time anybody even tried to vacate the speaker's office by force was 1910, when progressive Republicans, angry at the dictatorial rule of conservative Republican Speaker Joseph Cannon, tried to dump him, without success.

But that attempt, at least, was made by people who had a political difference with the speaker. Gingrich isn't being attacked by his enemies; it's his friends who hate him, conservative Republicans who -- whether they know it or not -- owe their offices to him.

I remember sitting in press meetings with Gingrich as long as 10 years ago and listening to him talk about how he was going to engineer a Republican takeover of the House of Representatives -- this at a time when the Democrats had a big majority in the House and looked as though they'd hold it forever.

We listened to him talk and did him the courtesy of not laughing in his face, although we did roll our eyes a bit. The consensus was that he was an interesting fellow, but suffered from delusions of grandeur.

Then he launched an attack on the Democratic speaker of the House, Jim Wright, and managed to force him out of office on ethical charges. And he intimidated Tony Cuello, the Democrats' gifted (and sleazy) fund-raiser, into resigning rather than face a similar fate.

He recruited attractive Republicans to run for House seats and set up seminars across the country, teaching them how to do it. He made instruction tapes on political organization and distributed them. He was, in short, a one-man party-building machine.

And in 1994, against all odds, he led his party to victory in the House and was elected speaker. Now, barely more than a single election cycle later, his progeny are trying to get rid of him. It's as though the Mormons, having been led to the promised land by Brigham Young, tried to lynch him when they got there.

Fortunately for the party, less pointed heads prevailed. The House Republicans staged a revival meeting the other evening in which the offending leaders admitted their sins and begged forgiveness. Tom DeLay, the Republican whip, confessed to having told renegade congresspeople he would vote with them against Gingrich, but said he hadn't been himself. Mentally and physically exhausted was the way his spokesperson described him.

Gingrich responded magnanimously, quoting the Bible: "Bless those who persecute you," he said, "Bless and do not curse them." It was not reported whether he then broke out the fishes and loaves and fed the multitudes.

But I wouldn't be surprised. Hilarious.

Donald Kaul is a columnist for the Des Moines Register.