John Hood prompted the following thoughts with his column today on the implications of last week’s election.

Much of the coverage of the N.C. House District 52 Republican primary focused on a common theme: the powerful lawmaker with years of successful service gets attacked by the GOP for working with Democrats. The party organization — backed by a multimillionaire — decides to quash dissent. Some media outlets have pegged the campaign as a fight between GOP moderates and conservatives.

Lost in the mix are some details that help explain the reasoning for the attack on that powerful lawmaker: Rep. Richard Morgan, R-Moore. Some of the issues separating Morgan from his foes dealt with policy, including taxes. Others dealt with the party caucus system and the use (or abuse) of power.

In the November 2002 election, Republicans gained three seats in the state House, giving them a 61-59 majority. They started to make plans to take over House leadership positions after four years as the minority party. It’s clear that the planning process angered some Republicans.

(Rep. Michael Decker, R-Forsyth, was angry enough to split the GOP and join forces with the Democrats. His defection split the House 60-60. Neither party entered the 2003 session with a majority.)

Morgan and four colleagues refused to support the bid of Rep. Leo Daughtry, R-Johnston, to become House speaker. The same group of five lawmakers refused to fall in with the majority of GOP House members when Daughtry withdrew his candidacy in favor of Rep. George Holmes, R-Yadkin.

Once the session started, it was clear some sort of deal would be necessary to establish leadership for the 2003-2004 session. For days, the House cast the same vote for Speaker: Rep. Jim Black, D-Mecklenburg, captured 60 votes; Holmes, 55; and Morgan, 5. As days progressed, Black worked behind the scenes with Morgan to cut a deal. (Holmes and his supporters tried to cut a deal of their own with Rep. Martin Nesbitt, D-Buncombe, and progressive/liberal Democrats who didn’t particularly like Black.)

In the end, Black and Morgan worked out their deal first. All the Democrats backed it. About a dozen Republicans supported the arrangement (with others hopping on board later after they had seen which way the wind was blowing).

It’s what happened next that sealed Morgan’s fate with his GOP critics. He could have gone back to his caucus to make peace from his new position of power. Instead Morgan took the following steps:

1. He confined critics from his own party to the House’s back rows. He refused to acknowledge that some of them existed. If they tried to speak on bills, Morgan acted as if he didn’t hear them. (Those GOP lawmakers had the privilege of speaking only when the Democratic speaker presided in the chamber.)

2. Committee assignments from Black and Morgan ensured none of the Morgan critics could play a key role in writing legislation.

3. Morgan signed off on a legislative redistricting plan that ensured some of his critics would “disappear” after the 2004 elections. Members of the anti-Morgan faction were paired in new legislative districts. They could decide to run against each other or retire from legislative service. That tactic rid the House of Reps. Billy Creech, Patrick McHenry, Frank Mitchell, and Connie Wilson.

Morgan’s moves were well within the bounds of politics. He won the battles of 2003 and 2004. He won again in 2005 when Black agreed to allow him to serve as speaker pro tem and make some committee assignments for Republicans in the current House.

He should not be surprised that his critics have now played politics to their advantage.