The man who dares to defy Speaker Finneran

Part 5

by Michael Crowley

When Finneran vanquished Richie Voke, there wasn't much suspense over what would become of Chris Hodgkins: before long, a handmade sign had been taped up marking a State House phone booth as Hodgkins's new office.

That turned out to be only a slight exaggeration. The tiny office Hodgkins has been consigned to, in a corner of the State House basement, feels cramped with just two occupants. But it is a bunker of defiance. Posted above his desk are the names of every member who voted for Voke, and a framed prayer from a former House chaplain titled "Courage Is a Comfortable Virtue."

"It was all about office space and who's gonna have the nicest curtains," is how one Democrat explains Finneran's leadership shuffle. It's petty stuff, but symbolic, Hodgkins says, of how Finneran's team operates. "They thought I wasn't going to like it," Hodgkins says of his office. But he professes to be pleased with the new digs -- even though, as a member of the Flaherty team, he'd grown accustomed to mahogany walls, a conference table, couches, and even a fireplace.

It's not hard, however, to find members who aren't shedding tears over Hodgkins's fate. His days as a leadership insider, as well as his unforgiving ally-or-traitor philosophy during the battle over the speakership, have left him with plenty of enemies at the State House -- people who feel, as one Democrat put it, "that he is an asshole spoilsport, and he should just shut up and go home."

Some colleagues say Hodgkins was complicit in cronyism and heavy-handed leadership tactics as a member of Flaherty's team. Says one: "While Chris is performing a sometimes valuable role right now, the truth is all the complaints he has now" could be applied to the excesses of the Flaherty era -- "the spoils that he lived off of for the six years preceding this."

Hodgkins's quick temper has also made him a few enemies. He called Representative Jim Miceli (D-Wilmington) a "pig" for switching his support from Voke to Finneran, and he once got into a near-fistfight on the floor with Representative Paul Casey (D-Winchester) -- who, Hodgkins presumably didn't realize, is an accomplished boxer. Others have chafed at Hodgkins's self-promotional tactics -- the way he's always calling up reporters, or choosing easy fights such as the pay raises over more-substantive issues.

For his part, Finneran professes relative indifference to Hodgkins's razzing, saying that personality politics are a distraction from the business of the commonwealth -- "part of the background noise."

"Chris thinks personal animosity animates everybody," says Finneran. To his mind, Hodgkins "is personally disappointed -- some people might even use the word bitter -- about the outcome of the Speaker's contest."

Finneran argues, not unreasonably, that it's easy for someone in Hodgkins's position to rail indiscriminately without having to worry much about final legislative products.

"Chris is as good as there is in pointing out the excesses of the other side," says Finneran. "Governance is something else. When you engage so much of your time and effort in the partisan mudslinging, the essential interests of the taxpayers are neglected."

The extent to which Hodgkins has become a Beacon Hill symbol has only highlighted the broader lack of opposition to Finneran's agenda. Finneran says the calm can be explained by good economic times, and a generally diminished spirit of political partisanship that stretches from the White House to the State House.

Part 6

Michael Crowley can be reached at mcrowley[a]phx.com.