Gov. Rod Blagojevich is contemplating yet another
special legislative session to take up a newly revised $25 billion
infrastructure-repair proposal for transportation, schools, and economic
development.
Whatever happens, it certainly appears that any
special session would be an exercise in futility. House Speaker Michael
Madigan is not budging from his opposition to the governor’s capital
construction plan, even in its newly revised and scaled-back form.
House Majority Leader Barbara Flynn Currie, who
attended last week’s legislative leaders meeting on Madigan’s
behalf, dumped all over the proposal’s remaining funding stream:
leasing the Illinois Lottery to a private company. She wasn’t
impressed with the fact that the governor had taken gaming expansion off
the table as a funding mechanism, and she said Blagojevich ought to sign
the “pay to play” bill to ban contractor contributions before
anyone should even consider talking about a capital bill that will award
tens of billions of dollars to many of those same contractors.
The governor, for his part, kept up his public
attacks on Madigan for refusing to cooperate. After the leaders’
meeting, the governor’s staff leaked a harsh letter that Madigan
allegedly sent to a Teamsters official: “I regret that you bought
into the bullshit of the Blagojevich people.”
Another banner day in Illinois government.
The only conceivable reason for bringing legislators
back to town would be to continue the Madigan-bashing festivities, because
it doesn’t look like he’s ready to cave any time soon.
Lots of people wonder why Madigan is refusing to
cooperate on a concept that just about everyone agrees is vital to the
state’s interests. They also wonder when, or even whether,
he’ll get off the dime and advance a proposal of his own.
I’ve pointed this out before, but it’s
worth repeating. Last year, Madigan slow-walked several big legislative
proposals, refusing to close any deal until it was done his way, on his
timeline, and was completely unconnected to other issues.
The mass-transit bailout is a case in point.
Madigan stubbornly pushed the bailout plan, which was
hammered out by the Chicago-area transit systems and their unions, when
others wanted big changes. He refused demands to connect it to the
governor’s health-care dreams or the capital bill and whatever else
was brought up. The speaker persevered through a couple of dramatic
“doomsday” shutdown deadlines and waited until the last
possible moment before finally advancing his proposal. The governor used
his amendatory veto powers on the bill to allow seniors to ride free, but
other than that Madigan got his way.
Expect the same on the capital projects bill. When
Madigan decides it’s time, he’ll do something. The trouble is,
nobody knows when he’ll make that decision.
Meanwhile, Madigan is way out on a limb with this
thing. He’s more isolated now than he’s been on any issue in
his entire career. All the other legislative leaders, most of his political
allies, and quite a few of his members oppose his current posture.
Yet nothing seems to move Madigan. The
governor’s evisceration of his daughter Lisa’s attorney general
budget provoked nary a peep. Traditional allies are pushed aside, the dire
needs of a state slipping into recession are downplayed, editorials are
ripped up, critics are scorned, and the end result is always the same: no
movement.
Madigan has his reasons for refusing to work with
Blagojevich and Senate President Emil Jones. Many, many, many of them are
sound. He’s been burned repeatedly by both men, and he simply
doesn’t trust their word on anything.
“I got taken to school last year,”
Madigan told Senate Republican Leader Frank Watson about last year’s
disastrous, record-breaking overtime session, “so I figured while I
was at school I might as well learn something.”
That “something” appears to be a refusal
to cooperate until he’s ready to push his own plan.
Rich Miller publishes Capitol Fax, a daily political
newsletter, and thecapitolfaxblog.com.
This article appears in Jul 31 – Aug 6, 2008.
