Michael Madigan’s record-breaking stretch at the pinnacle of Illinois politics didn’t happen by accident. A legendary tactician, Madigan knew the rules and in some cases even crafted them. To build power and maintain control, he counted the votes, sweated the details, marshalled the minutiae of election law, ward boundaries and political districts, and litigated the nominating signatures of opponents who stood in his way. Madigan’s singular focus was seemingly no different in federal court over the past two weeks, where it’s not just an election or piece of legislation on the line, but his legacy and likely his freedom. Over seven days of jury selection in his corruption trial, which began Oct. 8, Madigan has been a keen participant in an often-tedious process where many other defendants take a back seat and let the lawyers run the show. Not so for Madigan, the 82-year-old former Democratic powerhouse, who has sat in court for hours on end, glasses perched low on his nose, with a yellow legal pad on his lap, scribbling notes in pencil and occasionally erasing something with a flourish. He’s been seen flipping through the stacks of lengthy juror questionnaires, consulting often with his high-powered legal team, passing notes back and forth and offering an occasional thumbs up. And like his days ruling the House, Madigan has been hard to read, watching lengthy questioning of each prospective juror carefully and stoically and rarely reacting with more than a slight nod or grimace. He’s exited the Dirksen U.S. Courthouse each day without fanfare, carrying a black briefcase. In one of the few moments of levity, a prospective juror last week was asked if she would hold Madigan’s age against him. “No, he looks young,” the woman said, prompting Madigan, seated at the head of the defense table, to break into a broad grin and wave. The length and granular-level fight of jury selection reflects a common tactic Madigan used for years in Springfield, where he regularly tried to win the game before his team took the field. It shows Madigan’s penchant for leaving nothing to chance and using every weapon in his quiver, whether it’s ballot challenges or peremptory strikes. Attorney Christopher Grohman, a former federal prosecutor who now works in criminal defense, said it’s not surprising that Madigan is so involved, given he’s been a licensed attorney for decades and won election after election in part by being able to size up the electorate. “He’s been studying people for forever,” said Grohman, a partner in the firm Benesch. “Who knows the people of Illinois better?” But a criminal trial isn’t a political campaign, and the former speaker is facing what lawyers on all sides recognize is an attempt to control the uncontrollable: the hearts and minds of 12 complete strangers. Jury selection can be more superstition than science. Except in instances of obvious bias, attorneys have to patch together their selections based on educated guesses — or just gut instinct — about the way a juror’s decision could be influenced by their job, education, neighborhood, political leanings or general aura. Any experienced trial attorney knows that even the most heavily researched selection can turn out to be totally wrong. “Whenever we get a chance to talk to jurors after a trial, I’m always surprised to find out what they thought,” Grohman said. “It really is like reading tea leaves.” Madigan, 82, who served for decades as speaker of the Illinois House and the head of the state Democratic Party, faces racketeering charges alleging he ran his state and political operations like a criminal enterprise, scheming with utility giants ComEd and AT&T to put his cronies on contracts requiring little or no work and using his public position to drum up business for his private law firm. Both Madigan and his co-defendant, Michael McClain, 77, a former ComEd lobbyist and longtime confidant of Madigan’s, have pleaded not guilty and denied wrongdoing. Co-defendant Michael McClain, a former ComEd lobbyist, arrives at the Dirksen U.S. Courthouse, Oct. 9, 2024. (Antonio Perez/Chicago Tribune) The eight-woman, four-man panel of regular jurors was finalized Thursday after six long days of in-court questioning. The panel includes at least six people from Chicago, including two from the city’s 19th Ward on the Far Southwest Side. Others hail from as far away as Aurora, Downers Grove and Ingleside in northern Lake County. Many of those selected said they had heard of Madigan only in passing and did not know the details of the charges against him, other than an occasional news report. At least three said they wanted to be selected for the historic trial for varying reasons. All of them promised attorneys that they could put aside whatever they’d heard and render a fair verdict. U.S. District Judge John Robert Blakey has tentatively scheduled opening statements in the landmark case for Monday afternoon, after the final two alternate jurors are selected. The trial is expected to last 11 weeks. Whether or not the Madigan legal team got the jury they were hoping for, they certainly didn’t get caught not doing their homework. Before the trial began, they argued that they should be allowed to hire a third-party company to conduct a detailed background check on each of the more than 180 prospective jurors, including scouring the internet and social media profiles for any posts that would indicate a certain political stance or anti-Madigan bias. Blakey shot down that idea, ruling it would be too invasive and clunky to implement. Still, the defense team had considerable information on each juror before going into court, mostly gleaned from an extensive questionnaire that each person filled out on the first day of the trial earlier this month. Dozens of people were rejected from consideration before even being questioned in person, because their written questionnaires showed obvious bias against Madigan specifically or politicians in general. From there, Madigan’s team spent significant time trying to sniff out any possibility of bias from the prospective jurors on the stand, some of whom were grilled on the witness stand for nearly an hour at a time. The process of in-person questioning can vary from case to case, but for Madigan’s trial, the judge granted attorneys for all sides wide latitude to question each juror individually. Once questioning was underway, each juror was first put through a group “hand-raising” session where they were asked yes-or-no questions, including whether they thought politicians should not be in office for life, whether they thought Chicago politicians were more corrupt than others, and whether they had a negative reaction when they saw the case involved Madigan. The answers to those questions allowed Madigan’s attorneys Dan Collins, Todd Pugh, Tom Breen and Lari Dierks to home in on any preconceived attitudes the jurors may have about the former speaker, whether it came from news reports, family or friends, or elsewhere. Many of those who raised their hands affirmatively when asked about politicians being corrupt or serving too long in office were later bounced from consideration by Madigan’s team, either by successfully arguing a for-cause challenge or by using one of its 11 total peremptory strikes, which don’t require them to give a specific reason for removal. On Thursday, for example, Madigan’s team opted to use a peremptory on Juror 138, a retired Illinois State Toll Highway Authority employee who had raised his hand when asked if he was against lifelong politicians. Later, during individual questioning, it was revealed the man liked to watch the Republican-leaning Fox News cable station at night. Could he be fair to Madigan, a lifelong Democrat? Pugh asked. “I believe I could,” the man said. A day earlier, Madigan’s team used a peremptory on Juror 87, a man who worked in finance and was originally from Maryland. In the hand-raising session, the juror indicated he, too, was against politicians being in office for life and had a negative view of Madigan’s influence on the state’s politics. Under direct questioning, Juror 87 said he was a big fan of the HBO hit show “The Wire,” which offered a nuanced examination of policing and political corruption in Baltimore. He also said his opinions about Illinois had been formed in part by his connection to Baltimore, which are “similar” in that they have a larger percentage of politicians that are corrupt. Still, Juror 87 insisted he would be a fair member of the panel. “I believe I’m fairly rational, I follow instructions, listen to information and form opinions,” he said. Madigan’s team bounced him anyway. Another early peremptory strike by Madigan’s team was used in the first week of selection against a woman, Juror 29, who had a long career in the U.S. Navy that took her all over the world in various positions, including one, she said, tracking down “deserters.” Juror 29 said repeatedly she could be fair and wanted to be on the jury because she felt it would “be an honor to serve” her country. But Madigan’s attorneys took note that she had raised her hand in the affirmative when asked about lifelong politicians, as well as another question about politics being one of the main reasons Illinois has so many problems. At one point during his questioning, Breen asked Juror 29 if there was anything about her experience that might hamper her ability to give Madigan a fair trial, especially since he’s a politician and a lawyer. “He’s a person,” the woman responded, indicating she’d treat him fairly. “He is!” Breen exclaimed, and asked his client to stand. Madigan got halfway up from his chair before Blakey intervened. “Counsel, that’s not necessary,” Blakey said sharply, directing Breen to ask a question. Juror 29 was the only peremptory strike Madigan’s team used that day. In keeping with his hands-on style, Madigan huddled with his attorneys in a small conference room down the hall from Blakey’s courtroom after questioning of each panel had concluded and it was time to decide on whom to strike. Former Illinois House Speaker Michael Madigan arrives at the Dirksen U.S. Courthouse on Oct. 9, 2024. (Antonio Perez/Chicago Tribune) Meanwhile, peremptories were just one way for the parties to weed out potential prejudice. Madigan’s team also had significant success getting jurors removed “for cause,” meaning they had elicited evidence that a potential juror was not able to be impartial and should be removed from consideration. That’s what happened to Juror 57, a software developer from Bridgeport who was questioned for more than 45 minutes. He recalled hearing negative things about Madigan in passing years ago, back when he was in elementary or high school, and remembers associating him with “scandal or corruption or bribery.” But he maintained that he had no personal feelings toward Madigan one way or the other. “You’re probably not the right juror to be neutral or unbiased,” Pugh told Juror 57 toward the beginning of his lengthy — and repetitive — questioning. Juror 57 said that wasn’t the case. “I don’t think (Madigan) should be judged on what I thought of him 10 years ago,” he said, noting that he never heard any kind of specific accusations against Madigan. Pugh asked repeatedly whether he really thought he could be neutral and judge the evidence in an impartial way. Repeatedly, Juror 57 said he could. When he was off the stand, Madigan’s attorneys argued that Juror 57 should be removed for bias. Prosecutors disagreed: “We’re looking for people who are neutral, which is exactly what this juror said he is,” Assistant U.S. Attorney Sarah Streicker said. Blakey, in the end, agreed that Juror 57 should be removed, saying he believed his answers to be honest but “inconsistent and confused.” Juror 95, a Morton Grove woman, appeared to have a clear path to the jury. She had no interest in politics and had only vaguely heard of the allegations against Madigan, she said. Her job in regulatory compliance at a bank left her well-suited to analyze “transactions or behaviors that would have to be matched up to the law,” she said. “That’s what I like digging into.” Then she mentioned something about her previous experience as a juror in a Cook County trial. After that verdict, she said, the judge came back to speak to jurors. When they asked the judge about certain arguments, he told them they were “irrelevant,” and the defense was just trying “to put white noise in,” she said. She was on the stand for about 50 minutes. Later that day, Madigan’s attorneys argued she should be removed for cause. “This potential juror received an opinion about the way evidence was presented and arguments that were made,” Pugh said. “Having that type of information … creates unconscious bias at the very least.” Prosecutors again objected, saying the woman was very clear that she knew these were two separate trials and could consider them independently. Blakey began with a self-effacing “I’m probably getting this one wrong,” then ultimately agreed with Madigan’s team, removing Juror 95 from the panel. “I want her to listen to arguments in this case with an open mind,” Blakey said. “Maybe what the judge said was absolutely true … but I know you guys, no one here will be doing irrelevant or extraneous (arguments).” Another prospective member of the panel, Juror 11, who grew up on the Southwest Side and works at the Brookfield Zoo, apparently raised alarms for Madigan’s defense team when she said her husband is an avid Tribune reader. She said she only reads the lifestyle and travel stories, but when her husband learned she had been summoned for a lengthy jury trial he jokingly told her “it would be funny if it was” the Madigan case. Pugh argued Juror 11 likely minimized her amount of exposure to the Madigan case, “considering the amount of coverage these cases (have) received in the Tribune … these articles were incredibly in-depth.” Prosecutors said there was nothing in what Juror 11 said to indicate that she was being cagey about her knowledge of the case. Blakey said it was a close call, but ultimately agreed to kick her off the panel. “Based on the cold Q-and-A, I don’t know if there’s a basis for (removing her),” the judge said. “But the law builds in some flexibility in the joints, and I’m allowed to exercise some discretion.” [email protected] [email protected] [email protected]