Ex-Speaker Madigan is walking a tightrope by testifying

In the world of Illinois politics, longtime House Speaker Michael Madigan developed a reputation that people at the statehouse could count on his word. The secretive Southwest Side Democrat didn’t necessarily give it freely. He wanted to know every angle of an issue before saying he would embrace an idea or go all in. And he sometimes took his time before he would sign on to a budget deal or agree to back a bill. But governors, lawmakers and lobbyists time and again came to a consensus during Madigan’s five decades in the Illinois House, including a national-record 36 years as speaker: Whether you agreed with him or not, his word was good. Now, four years after resigning his seat in the legislature amid a burgeoning federal corruption investigation, Madigan is banking on his word once again. But this time, it’s not fellow lawmakers or ward heelers he’s dealing with, it’s a jury of 12 average citizens. And the stakes couldn’t be higher.

In a move that shocked Illinois political circles, as well as most court watchers and experts, Madigan took the witness stand last week in his own corruption trial, telling the jury repeatedly and emphatically under oath he is innocent of allegations that he betrayed his public office and traded official action for legal work and lucrative contracts for his associates. Testifying on your own behalf in a high-profile case is a rare move that is fraught with risk, and one Madigan, a lawyer and legendary tactician, surely considered from every angle. The decision appeared to catch even prosecutors by surprise, though by the time Madigan faces cross-examination, they will undoubtedly be loaded for bear. As Madigan’s direct testimony unfolded over five hours Tuesday and Wednesday, some of his motives for taking the stand became clear. Contrary to how he comes across on some of the wiretapped recordings the jury has heard, the 82-year-old Madigan was relaxed and even charming at times, offering jurors a compelling backstory of a blue-collar, Irish Catholic kid who rose to the pinnacle of Illinois power politics through work ethic and moxie.

While prosecutors have portrayed Madigan as a ruthless and all-powerful boss, he was able to sell himself as a nonconfrontational consensus builder, more interested in building coalitions than scorched-earth politics. It was a lesson Madigan told the jury he’d learned early on from a key mentor, legendary Democratic state Rep. Zeke Giorgi of Rockford. “The most important thing I learned from him was it’s really important to strive to know and understand other people,” Madigan said. “It’s one thing to have your own ideas, but in life, particularly in a legislative body, it’s important that you understand everybody comes with their own ideas. Everybody should be given due respect.” But even in his direct testimony, the tightrope Madigan was walking became obvious: trying to explain his own words in some of the secret recordings at the centre of the case while attempting to pawn off many of the more damaging episodes on his co-defendant, Michael McClain, a longtime friend and political consultant.

At the same time, Madigan has fully exposed himself to the scrutiny of seasoned prosecutors, as well as opened the door to other previously barred evidence — including a potentially damaging wiretapped call where the speaker and McClain allegedly laugh about some of their political associates making out “like bandits.”

The trial wrapped up for the week on Wednesday afternoon after cross-examination by McClain’s attorney. Madigan will likely be back on the stand for cross examination by prosecutors at some point Monday, though the timing is uncertain because US District Judge John Robert Blakey plans to hold arguments first on what specific topics prosecutors can cover. Madigan, and McClain, 77, of downstate Quincy, are charged in a 23-count indictment alleging that Madigan’s vaunted state and political operations were run like a criminal enterprise to amass and increase his power and enrich himself and his associates.

In addition to alleging bribery schemes involving ComEd and AT&T Illinois, the indictment accuses Madigan of pressuring developers to hire the speaker’s law firm and trying to win business by secretly supporting legislation to transfer state-owned land in Chinatown to the city so developers could build a high-rise.

Both Madigan and McClain have denied wrongdoing. The trial, which began with jury selection on Oct. 8, is heading into its 12th week of testimony. The judge has told the jury he

hopes they will begin their deliberations on the week of Jan. 27, though Madigan’s surprise testimony could push that back even further.

Early on in his testimony, Madigan took open-ended, softball questions from his attorney, Daniel Collins, who repeatedly addressed his client as “Mike.” The former speaker struck up a conversational tone and spoke directly to the jury about his strict upbringing, meeting his wife, Shirley, and some of the poignant moments of family life. Madigan said he was still a newbie lawmaker and lawyer when he met Shirley in a law office in Chicago where she worked. Her family had migrated from Mexico to eastern Oregon, Madigan said, where they worked the fields growing onions and potatoes, before she eventually “found her way to Chicago” via a job as a flight attendant. When they married in 1976, Madigan said he immediately considered himself a father to Shirley’s daughter, Lisa, from a previous marriage. “My view of it was I would treat Lisa as my daughter,” he told the jury. “I understood from the get-go that this was a dual package here. So I just took on the parental responsibilities.”

Madigan also told a story about Lisa’s biological father, whom he said was verbally abusive, leading to a phone confrontation one night when she was still young. “I was walking up the stairs, she was in her bedroom on the phone crying,” Madigan said. “I took the phone out of her hands, and her biological father was on the phone shouting at her. The language was so vile, I don’t even want to repeat it. But he was using the abusing word.” What did you tell her? Collins asked.

“That she never had to see him or talk to him again,” Madigan said. In addition to drawing in the jurors, who were listening intently, Madigan’s story also served to bolster the defence’s narrative of his nonconfrontational nature. Asked by Collins how the situation was resolved, Madigan said he received some “threatening letters” from Lisa’s biological father, but the conflict was never physical. Did you choose to avoid confrontation? Collins asked.

“Yes,” Madigan said. Among the other explanations Madigan gave to the jury in his direct testimony was why he famously didn’t have a cellphone or use email — a fact prosecutors have used to imply that he was trying to insulate himself from the potential consequences of his actions. “Instead, he spoke through a very small inner circle whom he trusted,” Assistant US Attorney Sarah Streicker said in her opening statement back in October, adding that Madigan and McClain were “careful to hide and disguise what they were doing.” Madigan’s lawyers pushed back, telling the jury their client was just an old-school guy. “He doesn’t have a cellphone, and that’s supposed to be indicia of guilt?” defense attorney Tom Breen said in his opening remarks. “He doesn’t do email. That’s supposed to be an indicia of guilt?”

On the stand, Madigan tried to put the issue to bed. He said the landlines in his various offices had served him just fine for years, and he saw no reason to change. Besides, Madigan said, he wanted to maintain some boundaries between his work and his personal life. “I wanted to end my day,” he said. “I didn’t want to be sitting with a cellphone taking calls during a meal or at other times when I just wasn’t on the job.” As for why he never had an email address, he said computers weren’t even a regular thing in offices when he started his reign as speaker in 1983. “When computers came along and when the use of them really increased I was already the speaker. ... I had people in all of those offices who could take transmissions through the computers and give documents to me.”