Legislative Action
Lawmakersuse issue of
assault weapons for political gain
By JENNIFER HALPERIN
Remember the gubernatorial primary campaigns, when proposals to ban assault weapons in Illinois seemed relatively simple? Cook County Board President Richard Phelan, then a viable candidate for the Democratic gubernatorial nomination, was the first high-profile politician to push for a statewide ban during the primary campaign season. Phelan compiled a list of automatic weapons he wanted to see outlawed and touted it to the press. He already had a record of pushing successfully for a ban on the possession and sale of assault weapons in Cook County.
Gov. Jim Edgar, not wishing to be outmaneuvered in a season when anti-crime sentiment was running high, countered with his own proposal to ban 92 assault weapons. The moves seemed understandable, based on simple politics: Each candidate wanted to look toughest on crime. Plus, the topic of assault weapons makes for lots of press coverage. After that, though, the issue seemed to degenerate into a battle of egos and political maneuvers in the General Assembly.
Things started to get confusing when Senate President James "Pate" Philip (D-23, Wood Dale), not known for his love of gun control measures, emerged on the scene. At first he didn't seem supportive of the Republican governor's proposal. Soon, though, he came around, even issuing a statement that said: "Gov. Edgar has proposed a responsible and reasonable approach to this issue and I support his legislation."
But it was almost a given that there would have to be a little bargaining to pare the governor's measure down to a bill Philip could swallow. In the Senate, which he controls, the proposed ban was rewritten to reduce the number of weapons affected from 92 to 17. That version also would have allowed current owners to keep their guns, and would have overturned all existing local gun laws more stringent than state law.
Recognizing that the original proposal banning 92 weapons had little chance of passing the Senate, Edgar negotiated with Chicago Mayor Richard M. Daley to come up with a compromise measure. The compromise also would have outlawed 17 assault weapons, but would have required current owners to turn them in. Special permits would have been required for 65 other guns. At that point, the proposal had been whittled down sufficiently that it seemed negotiable and eventually passable in both chambers.
Except for one thing: Philip's counterpart in the House, Speaker Michael J. Madigan (D-22, Chicago), saw an opportunity for political gain. Madigan saw the chance to embarrass the governor and get Republican lawmakers on the record voting against an assault weapon ban — a vote that could be used against them in upcoming campaigns. Plus, Madigan seemed miffed that his office had not been consulted on the compromise negotiated between Edgar and Daley.
How did Madigan turn the proposal around to embarrass the governor? He took the original bill — the one calling for a ban on 92 assault weapons, which everyone agreed had no chance of passing — and put it to a vote on the House floor April 13. To no one's surprise, the measure failed, garnering 52 of the 60 votes needed for passage. Democrats provided 47 of those votes; the other five came from suburban Republicans whose constituents wouldn't necessarily look kindly upon a vote against an assault weapon ban. (One Republican representative in particular, Kevin R. Hanrahan of Northbrook, faces gun-control advocate Phil Andrew in the November election for his seat. Andrew is executive director of the Illinois Council Against Handgun Violence.)
The failure of Edgar's original proposal left Madigan and other Democrats free to gloat over the governor's apparent inability to muster his own forces to pass one of his chief proposals — although by then the governor wasn't even trying to rally support for the measure. Instead, Edgar was supporting the more politically realistic 17-weapon ban.
Madigan's move sent Republicans, specifically House Minority Leader Lee Daniels (R-46, Elmhurst) and the governor's staff, into a furious tizzy. They accused Madigan of political gamesmanship, and charged him with being the roadblock to passing meaningful gun control. But Madigan was in a position to simply shrug his shoulders and shake off any blame. After all, wasn't he trying to do Edgar a favor by calling his bill for a vote?
To add insult to injury, Madigan called the same bill — dubbed Edgar I — for a vote on April 20. This time it garnered just 51 of the 60 needed votes, again with the support of five Republicans. A week later, the speaker called it again, and again, Edgar I garnered 51 votes. Madigan then unexpectedly switched gears on the House Republicans, calling for a vote on what by then was dubbed Edgar II. That measure, which would have banned 17 assault weapons and required people to get special permission to own dozens of other such weapons, won 50 of the 60 votes needed. Republicans balked at voting in favor of the measure, saying it was sprung on them without prior notice. And there were some questions about whether negotiated details to which both sides agreed were included in the "compromise" measure called for a vote.
All of this was done before May, when the U.S. House of Representatives narrowly approved its own ban on 19 assault weapons — and unwittingly set the stage for more political posturing in the General Assembly. Madigan said the vote on the federal level didn't let Illinois lawmakers off the hook, since they still could pass a more restrictive measure. Philip said the congressional action made the question moot in Illinois.
If they accomplish nothing else, the proposed assault weapon bans in Illinois provided vehicles for political antics galore in the Illinois legislature — and lawmakers seem to pride themselves as much on those as they do on substantive issues. The irony is that the U.S. Congress — so often the butt of complaints about political motivations and gridlock and do-nothingness — actually put the Illinois legislature to shame on this issue.
32/June 1994/Illinois Issues
