Stephen Cloobeck, the 64-year-old business tycoon who founded Diamond Resorts International, told reporters Monday he has abandoned the Democratic Party, and former Rep. Eric Swalwell along with it, after allegations of sexual harassment and assault engulfed the California congressman's political career and sent him fleeing to Cloobeck's Beverly Hills mansion for cover.

"I am no longer a Democrat!" Cloobeck declared, telling the New York Post he now considers himself "a libertarian Republican, because that's what a blue dog Democrat used to be." The shift caps a dramatic break between the millionaire resort magnate and the man he once endorsed for governor of California.

The fallout matters because it illustrates how quickly the ground can collapse under Democratic politicians when their donors, not just their voters, decide the party has lost its way. Cloobeck didn't just pull his endorsement. He pulled the welcome mat out from under Swalwell's feet, evicted him from his $26 million home, and told the world about it.

From patron to pariah

Cloobeck had backed Swalwell for years. Fox News reported that Cloobeck donated $23,400 to Swalwell's campaigns between 2017 and 2023. When Cloobeck briefly ran for governor of California and then dropped out this past November, he endorsed Swalwell, at the time the Democratic frontrunner in the gubernatorial race.

Then the sex scandal hit.

Swalwell faced accusations of sexual harassment and assault, as well as sleeping with subordinates. One accuser, who previously worked in his office, claimed he raped her following a 2024 charity gala, leaving her "bloody and bruised." Swalwell issued what amounted to a vague denial, calling the charges "false accusations" while also acknowledging "mistakes in judgment."

That kind of split-the-difference response might fly in Washington. It didn't fly in Cloobeck's 9,700-square-foot living room.

As the scandal broke, Swalwell took refuge in Cloobeck's Beverly Hills mansion. The California Post previously reported that Swalwell even shot a video denying the initial claims from inside Cloobeck's home. But Cloobeck said he confronted Swalwell directly once the scope of the allegations became clear.

Cloobeck described the exchange to reporters:

"I was with my counsel and we had a chat with him, I just told him, 'You busted the trust.' 'I'm shocked, I'm disturbed and get the f, k out of here.' Then I walked away and that was it."

Asked about Swalwell by a KTTV reporter, Cloobeck was blunt:

"Eric who? Is that clear? Don't bust the trust. You bust the trust, OK, you don't exist in my life."

Swalwell's collapse: from frontrunner to resignation

The timeline moved fast. By Sunday evening, Swalwell dropped his gubernatorial bid entirely. On Tuesday, he and Rep. Tony Gonzales (R-Texas) each submitted letters of resignation from Congress to avoid possible expulsion over what were described as a pair of sordid sex scandals. Gonzales, a Republican, faced his own affair scandal and expulsion threat, and both men chose to walk rather than be pushed.

Cloobeck said he was blindsided by the allegations against Swalwell. "I was blown away!" he told reporters. "Like blown away. Like, there's no way I would have endorsed him. It's such a shock."

He also framed his break in broader terms, saying, "I am no longer associated with a man that takes advantage of women. I support women's rights."

A donor defection years in the making

Cloobeck's split with the Democratic Party did not start this week. Years earlier, he publicly warned that the party was drifting too far left and alienating its business-friendly base. In a 2017 appearance, he said the party's anti-wealth rhetoric was driving donors like him away.

"If we go far left, I'm out. I'm out. We need middle ground," Cloobeck said at the time, as the Washington Free Beacon reported. He called the Democratic Party's message "so effin' wrong" and threatened to stop donating if the leftward march continued.

That threat has now become action. Cloobeck told Fox 11 Los Angeles he is now a Republican, while telling the New York Post he identifies as a libertarian. Either way, the Democrats lost a major donor, and gained another public defection at a moment when the party can least afford one.

The broader pattern is hard to miss. Democrats have spent years watching their coalition fray at the edges, facing fines and consequences in Texas for legislative walkouts, losing ground in swing districts, and watching their own convention events devolve into spectacle. When even the big-check donors start walking out the door, the problem isn't cosmetic. It's structural.

Swalwell, for his part, has offered no detailed public rebuttal of the specific allegations. His resignation letter and dropped gubernatorial bid speak louder than his vague references to "false accusations" and "mistakes in judgment." The gap between those two phrases, false accusations on one hand, admitted mistakes on the other, is wide enough to drive a campaign bus through.

What the Swalwell scandal reveals

The Swalwell episode is not just a personal scandal. It is a case study in how Democratic institutions handle misconduct allegations against their own. Swalwell was the party's gubernatorial frontrunner in the nation's largest state. He had donor networks, media access, and institutional backing. And when the accusations surfaced, his first move was to retreat to a patron's mansion and record a denial video from the comfort of a $26 million home.

That image, a congressman accused of assaulting women, filming his defense from a millionaire's living room, tells you everything about the insulation that political elites enjoy until the moment it evaporates.

Cloobeck, to his credit, did not try to manage the situation quietly. He confronted Swalwell, expelled him from the property, and went public. Whether his motivations are principled or self-protective, the result is the same: one fewer shield between Swalwell and accountability.

Meanwhile, Republicans have been consolidating gains in districts across the country. Every Democratic defection, whether it's a donor, a lawmaker, or a voter, widens the gap. And every scandal that the party's leadership fails to address head-on accelerates the erosion.

The open questions remain significant. What exactly did Swalwell's resignation letter say? What specific allegations drove Gonzales to resign on the same day? And how long did Democratic leadership know about the accusations against Swalwell before the public learned of them? None of those answers have surfaced yet.

The California Democratic establishment now faces a gubernatorial race without its frontrunner, a donor class watching one of its most visible members switch parties on camera, and a public record of allegations that no amount of vague denial can erase.

Cloobeck summed up his view in six words: "Don't bust the trust." Simple enough. The question is whether the Democratic Party has anyone left who can earn it back.