James ‘Pate’ Philip, former Illinois Senate president who once symbolized suburban Republicanism, dies
James Peyton Philip was a symbol of Chicago suburban political growth in the post-World War II era of white flight from the city, a hulking, cigar-chomping retired Marine who helped build a Republican firewall against Chicago’s Democratic domination as Illinois Senate president for a decade.
Philip, 93, known most commonly in Illinois statehouse politics by the nickname “Pate,” died Tuesday night at his home in Wood Dale after a short illness, with his wife of 46 years, Nancy, at his side. No cause of death was given.
Philip served for 36 years in the Illinois General Assembly, eight in the Illinois House before moving to the state Senate, where he served for 28 years and climbed the ladder of leadership to become Senate president in 1993. He remained president for a decade before retiring in 2003 after Democrats gained control of the chamber. His tenure marked him as the longest-serving Republican Senate president.
“’Pate’ was very loyal to his members. I mean, he would really do whatever it took that he thought to help them get reelected. And of all the leaders, he probably was the most committed to the rank and file,” said former Republican Gov. Jim Edgar, who served from 1991 to 1999.
“The other thing about ‘Pate’ that I always thought was interesting is that there were certain things he really believed in and that’s what he’s going to do. The politics didn’t bother him as much as (it might for) somebody now,” Edgar said.
Philip’s public comments could be crude and considered racist, often directed at Chicago, yet they reflected the characteristics of the white gentrified DuPage County of the 1960s and 1970s where he began to amass political power locally. He was first elected as York Township auditor in 1965 and was president of the Illinois Young Republicans the same year before his election to the Illinois House.
Upon Republicans gaining the Senate majority in the 1992 redistricting year in which the GOP had won the rights to redraw Illinois’ legislative political boundaries in a drawing, Philip as Senate president-elect had the only large-scale news conference of his public career.
Asked by a reporter about his attitude toward bilingual education amid increasing ethnic and racial diversity in the state, Philip bluntly responded, “Let ’em learn English.”
He lamented additional state funding for Chicago schools as “pouring money down a rat hole.”
In the midst of a budget standoff with the still-Democratic-controlled Illinois House in his first year as Senate president, Philip said he didn’t want to increase welfare benefits to poor people because they would use the money to “buy more lottery tickets.”
He long posited that suburbanites helped subsidize lower-income residents of Chicago without getting their fair share of state tax dollars and labeled city residents as “eaters.” He fought efforts to require auto emission testing requirements in the suburbs because, he said, suburbanites drive newer cars.
“I guess I’m not politically correct, but I never have tried to be politically correct,” Philip said after criticism over his remarks.
At times, Philip resembled the outlandishness of Archie Bunker, the bigoted fictional “All in the Family” TV character of the 1970s, in using rhetorical stereotypes to play to his white suburban constituency. A TV news anchor, new to Chicago, pronounced his name “Pâté,” the food most often made of liver, which political opponents used to mock him.
Former Senate Republican leader Christine Radogno, who represented parts of DuPage County while serving in the chamber from 1997 to 2017, described Philip as an old-school politician who could be no-nonsense at times but also compassionate.
“He was always sort of a larger than life figure. He was a big guy, and kind of rough and gruff,” said Radogno, who lived in Lemont during her years leading the Senate GOP minority. “He did have a soft heart and he was a good leader and he was inclusive in his leadership, despite the fact that he came across pretty rough at times, and he definitely reflected the times.”
Philip, who retired as a district sales manager for Pepperidge Farm Inc. after 38 years, was a formidable politician who engendered loyalty from his Republican members and begrudging respect from Democrats for living up to the unwritten creed that his word was his bond.
And as Senate president, one of the top four leaders in the Illinois legislature, and as DuPage County GOP chairman for more than 30 years, he was able to steer massive amounts of tax dollars, particularly in infrastructure, to the vast growing suburbs and enhance their role in Illinois’ economy, such as the creation of the North-South Tollway.
“’Pate’ Philip was a giant in Illinois, DuPage and political life,” said former state Sen. Kirk Dillard of Downers Grove, a former DuPage County GOP chair who now chairs the Regional Transportation Authority.
“It’s important that people understand that he came out of a different era than today’s politics,” Dillard said in a statement. “‘Pate’ Philip loved Illinois. What he should probably be most remembered for was his honor, patriotism and integrity. His word was his bond to allies as well as political opponents. He was truly one of a kind. His death marks the end of an era in Illinois.”
Although he adhered to the Republican philosophy of less government — and despite his strong-willed nature — Philip also believed in the institution of government and in accepting compromise if that’s what it took to move the state forward.
Philip was a staunch gun rights advocate, which led to a showdown in 1999 between him and then-Gov. George Ryan over efforts by the governor and backed by then-Mayor Richard M. Daley to reinstate a court-overturned law that made illegal possession of a firearm a felony. After months, an agreement was reached that gave prosecutors discretion in prosecuting the offense.
Philip also led the fight against Daley’s effort to create a third Chicago airport at Lake Calumet and led opposition in Hegewisch, a neighborhood that would have been demolished if the plan went through. Daley folded his third airport plan as a result, shifting the search for a future airport to Peotone.
In March of 1989, while serving as leader of the Republican minority in the Illinois Senate, Philip told Illinois Issues magazine that he understood the perception most people have toward politicians.
“Most people look down on politicians. I would say if you ask them the professions they distrust they’d say used car salesmen, bartenders, pimps and politicians,” he said. “I would hope people in my district have a better opinion of me.”
Philip attended York Community High School in Elmhurst, Kansas City Junior College and Kansas State College. He was drafted into the U.S. Marine Corps at the start of the Korean War and served from 1951 to 1953.
He is survived by his wife, Nancy; four children; and nine grandchildren. His family said that at Philip’s request, no services will be held and burial will be private.
Chicago Tribune’s Jeremy Gorner contributed.
