SACRAMENTO — By threatening to cut short the careers of Republican lawmakers who vote to raise taxes, state Senate GOP leader Jim Brulte last week dramatically stepped up his bid to keep his party united through California's fiscal crisis.
Some have questioned whether Brulte meant his threat to be taken literally or simply to send a message to Democrats about Republican resolve. Still, few doubt that he is capable of making good on his demand that Republicans hang together or risk the party's wrath.
For Brulte to threaten retaliation against fellow Republicans was a "huge" development in the tangled politics of the state budget deadlock, especially given his deep involvement in the mechanics of legislative races, said Gale Kaufman, a strategist for Assembly Democrats.
"He knows how much they cost," she said. "He knows how to fund them. He knows who the best consultants are. He is completely -- as we say -- operational. He loves the nitty-gritty."
If, as many argue, Brulte's threat has stiffened the spines of Republicans on taxes, that represents one half of the budget standoff in Sacramento, where legislators headed for home this weekend rather than even attempt to meet Sunday's constitutional deadline.
On the other side of the debate, Democrats continue to resist any efforts to cut more deeply into social programs, preferring tax hikes to further spending cuts.
But it was Brulte's remarks that have caused the greatest stir in recent days, and Republicans are taking him seriously.
That's because the key to Brulte's power over fellow Republicans is campaign money. He and Assembly GOP leader Dave Cox of Fair Oaks, who raise party money together for legislative races, collected and spent $11 million on the 2002 campaign. The GOP gained three seats in the Legislature.
The legislative leaders are barred from spending party money in primaries. But Brulte has reported more than $1 million in his own campaign account, which he can steer to candidates in primaries. Donations are capped by law at $3,200, but Brulte's influence extends beyond his own contributions.
As the Legislature's top Republican, he can drive scores of other donors to support or shun a candidate. His power over political money was on display last week at a Sacramento cafe, where scores of lobbyists paid respects to him with $1,500 campaign checks from clients, including many with a stake in the budget and other state business.
