How leaders warmed a State House chill
Apologies served Patrick, DiMasi
For months, the powerful leaders had been at daggers' points, barely speaking while exchanging accusations and recriminations in the press. But in May, Governor Deval Patrick and House Speaker Salvatore F. DiMasi sat down for a private dinner in the North End that has proved crucial to salvaging the first half of Patrick's term.
The restaurant meeting - with no aides, just the governor and speaker - was the keystone in a broad rapprochement, Patrick and DiMasi both said in recent interviews.
"We had a great, quiet, come-to-Jesus kind of conversation with each other," Patrick said.
Coming on the heels of a bitter fight in March over the governor's effort to license casinos, it broke a political impasse that had gripped Beacon Hill and threatened to block many of the governor's initiatives. The high-level heart-to-heart explains in large part how Beacon Hill Democrats managed to wrap up a peaceful legislative session last month after months of disarray and infighting.
"We were both feeling like there was some blood on the floor after the casino vote," the governor said. The meeting, in an undisclosed restaurant on DiMasi's home turf, was preceded by a meeting for drinks a couple of weeks before and an unusual apology from the governor to DiMasi, delivered in a handwritten note that DiMasi still keeps beneath his desk blotter.
"We got together and bared our souls," DiMasi said. "We agreed to apologize for some of the things both of us said, and we agreed to put the past behind us. We decided to get back to work together, to get back to being friends."
Now, nearly four months later, Patrick can point to a host of initiatives - on economic development, tax policy, education, other issues - that had been languishing in the Legislature but were approved in the final weeks of the session. The accomplishments gave the governor a much-needed boost as he moves into the national spotlight next week at the Democratic National Convention in Denver.
"We have seen over the last several months a lot more . . . willingness to compromise and willingness to take his lumps and move on," said Paul Watanabe, a political scientist at the University of Massachusetts at Boston. "That strikes me as reflective of hard work. And the word that comes to mind is maturity."
Patrick's renewed confidence will be tested again in the coming months, as the state faces further fiscal problems and the possibility of emergency budget cuts. In addition, tensions with DiMasi and other lawmakers could easily reignite in 2009 if the governor revives his failed plan to license three casinos, a proposal DiMasi strongly opposes.
In the meantime, however, Patrick is basking in a political resurgence. Those who have worked with him say the diplomatic thaw with DiMasi shows he is learning the complicated dances and arcane customs that govern Massachusetts politics and grease the policy agendas at the State House.
From the sidelines in the battle of wills, Senate President Therese Murray, the other key power figure on Beacon Hill, attributes the decline in friction, in part, to a new governor and the speaker learning to get along.
"Sometimes it is a guy thing, like the new kid on the block," said Murray. "Now they get along very well. They have both gone through a lot."
The shift has been a huge relief for some of Patrick's early supporters.
"In the last couple of months he has shown all the intellectual and political skills, as well as the courage that I saw in him as a candidate," said state Representative Jay Kaufman, a Lexington Democrat. "It took a while to get his feet under him. It is certainly very encouraging."
In his State of the State address in January, Patrick publicly chastised the Legislature for its slow pace in deciding on his proposals, scolding lawmakers for the "cost of inaction." Through late winter and into March, the battle over Patrick's proposal to license casinos made things even worse. DiMasi, using the full weight of his position, crushed the plan with a lopsided vote. Patrick felt that he had been publicly humiliated by the speaker using heavy-handed tactics.
The already tense political climate was exacerbated when the governor left the State House before the final casino vote and traveled to New York to sign a $1.35 million book contract.
DiMasi did not gloat publicly over his victory. Instead, he made the first move to reach out to the governor after their bitter clash. They arranged to meet at the Seaport Hotel for a drink before the governor appeared at an April 24 event there. DiMasi proposed that the two apologize to each other and that they start anew
"I'm glad you said that to me, Sal," Patrick told him.
The next day, Patrick sent the speaker a handwritten note of apology. "I agree the past is the past. Let's move forward in partnership and friendship," he told DiMasi, who shared a portion of the note with the Globe.
DiMasi had a stake in encouraging a thaw. The speaker was facing his own crisis. A series of Globe stories raised questions about whether he influenced legislation or used his position to benefit his friends. The articles contributed to political unrest among his Democratic colleagues in the Legislature.
Patrick, instead of reveling in his rival's political misery, used the opportunity to draw the House leader closer. He suggested that they go to the North End for dinner. The two leaders would not say what was said or even disclose the name of the restaurant.
After that, the two began talking almost daily, having spent the first year speaking mostly through staff. Patrick said he spoke with DiMasi about the death of two members of DiMasi's family.
"He's a human being. I know that was affecting him," Patrick said. "We talked often through that. Sometimes you just pick up the phone in the morning on the way in and check in. He's done the same for me."
The good feelings paid off. As the Legislature rushed to end its session by July 31, Patrick's major priorities began arriving on his desk. In a gesture that captured the new climate, Patrick made a surprise appearance in the House chamber in late July as lawmakers were sprinting toward the conclusion of the session. Proceedings were brought to a halt as he shook hands with lawmakers. When he left, the representatives rose in wild applause.
The governor pointed at DiMasi, who replied with a thumbs up.
As Patrick exited, a choir standing outside in the marble hallway broke into song. Accompanied by a steel-string guitar and a wooden bongo, the choir, on tour from Ireland, sang "May the Road Rise to Meet You."
The governor smiled wide and said, "Thank you. Thank you."
On a stage where he's had his struggles, he could not have appeared happier. 