NOW THAT Birmingham's introduction to state voters has begun so smoothly, there is one person who could pop up to hinder his effort — the old Birmingham. The old Birmingham is the State House politician who spends his time tangling with Finneran and Swift, and who will have to contend with a 2003 budget deficit estimated at $2 billion. Swift is already preparing to release her budget, expected on Wednesday (after the Phoenix went to press). Having to deal with such a catastrophic budget is not likely to help Birmingham make his case to state voters. That's why some Democrats behind the scenes argue that the best way for Birmingham to complete his transition to a successful statewide candidate is for him to give up his post as Senate president.
"Two-thirds of Tom Birmingham’s supporters wish he would leave the Senate and move straight into the campaign," says Lou DiNatale of UMass Boston’s McCormack Institute. "I think we’d love to see a new Birmingham arrive, because the Senate president can’t get elected governor." Adds a Senate insider: "Next year’s budget could be as bad or worse than this year’s. That’s not going to encourage the public to have a favorable view of the legislative process."
Franklin, Birmingham’s press aide, says the Senate president isn’t going anywhere. "He was elected as a state senator to a two-year term through this year and he will serve through the end of this calendar year," he says.
That may be the campaign’s official stance, but it hasn’t stopped speculation from coursing through the State House like a raging rapid. Many familiar with the Senate expect Birmingham to depart sometime before his term officially ends at the end of 2002 — perhaps before the budget wrangling with the House Speaker begins in June. Some contend that Birmingham could leave as soon as his Senate Ways & Means chair, Mark Montigny of New Bedford, completes the Senate budget in May. Those who know the Senate best say an attempt by Birmingham to wear the hats of gubernatorial candidate and Senate president simultaneously may doom both. "That’s two full-time jobs," says one Senate insider, mapping out the difficulty. "Just to be a good state senator requires attending community events and performing difficult constituent work. Add to this a budget shortfall. It becomes very demanding."
Exactly how demanding became evident in December when Birmingham faced a near revolt from senators at one of the body’s regular Democratic caucus meetings, the proceedings of which are generally kept secret. Senators confronted Birmingham about the muddled budget process — criticizing, in particular, Birmingham’s lieutenant, Montigny, for mishandling it. The senators felt sandbagged by the late budget, the size of the proposed cuts, and the secrecy with which it was negotiated. Birmingham has already promised changes. He has vowed that future conference-committee meetings — the meetings at which House and Senate members together hammer out the budget — will be public, a break with time-honored Beacon Hill tradition.
The case against relinquishing his post centers on two important points. The first is that it will be seen as cowardly if Birmingham abandons ship, and the budget, as predicted, is a disaster. Under this analysis, the political damage he sustains by leaving is as great or greater than it would be were he to stay. Besides, if Birmingham is no longer in control of the Senate, it is privately argued, his base of support for a statewide run dries up. Members of Birmingham’s Democratic Senate team make up a key constituency in his campaign. The senators have been vital to helping him raise more money than any other candidate in the race. As of the end of 2001, Birmingham had $2.9 million in cash on hand — $800,000 more than Grossman, his nearest fundraising competitor, and $1.2 million more than Swift. If he gets through the costly primary, Birmingham will need to raise even more if he hopes to defeat Swift in the general election. In addition, he needs the senators to help him garner the necessary delegates at the state convention at the end of May. Speaking on Keller At Large, Birmingham said he would like to win the convention. The Democratic senators back Birmingham, in part, because he holds the power to promote or reject their legislative initiatives and funding requests; without them, his campaign is dead.
Privately, Birmingham supporters say some of this analysis is overplayed. Yes, the senators have helped Birmingham, but only as far as making introductions in remote parts of the state. And though some senators may not go to the mat for Birmingham should he step down, this would come as no surprise to key members of the campaign. Still, they say, the Senate president will honor his commitment to the state and his district’s voters.
Therefore, the solution to his dilemma, say his supporters, is for the Senate president to use his high position in the state legislature as a way to propel his gubernatorial candidacy. "If I were him, I’d keep the bully pulpit of the Senate," says one knowledgeable supporter. "I’d use it to carve out the differences between myself and the governor and myself and the House Speaker. If they disagree, I’d go around the state and talk about it."
If Birmingham were to adopt such a tactic, it would be a novel one. Until now he has loyally held to Beacon Hill traditions, which mandate that differences be negotiated in private. However, his adherence to tradition, among other things, has prevented Birmingham from becoming well known in this state.
Regardless of whether Birmingham leaves the Senate now or stays to the bitter end, he faces considerable political risk. The more he sticks with Finneran in the State House, the more likely that he will remain indistinguishable from the Speaker. That’s what happened last Tuesday night on the occasion of Swift’s State of the State address. Local TV cameras began broadcasting the proceedings a short time before Swift began her speech, and viewers could see Finneran jocularly gabbing with Birmingham for several moments. Anyone but a political junkie might have easily confused the two state leaders — a fact that engenders feelings of joy in Birmingham’s Democratic opponents, who want to paint Birmingham as indistinguishable from Finneran. "It was three to four minutes of Finneran and Birmingham together looking like old-time pols," snipes an operative from an opposing campaign. "I don’t think it was the type of TV they were looking for."
Dukakis, Clinton, even Nixon — each was able to create a new image for himself because he had the opportunity to leave his old life behind. The longer Birmingham retains his Senate post, the more the unappealing old Birmingham will be seen alongside the popular new version. A split personality is never attractive, and it could cause Birmingham trouble as his campaign gets under way.
Seth Gitell can be reached at sgitell[a]phx.com
