The 10 most powerful Minnesota Republicans

Larson lives across the river in Hudson, Wisconsin, now, but he still has a base of operations in Minnesota, and he's CEO of the Minneapolis St. Paul 2008 Host Committee, which is tasked with laying the groundwork for the RNC.

You won't find him flaunting his success in front of cameras or crowds. He's a man who has little interest in being a public persona. He's "one of the least known national Republican players you'll find," says Vin Weber. "He has the classic Scandinavian penchant for anonymity."

THE TAXMAN

Mike Wigley

Founder, Taxpayers League of Minnesota

It was the kind of moment Mike Wigley, founder of the rigorous and often antagonistic Taxpayers League of Minnesota, no doubt cherishes. In 2003, with a newly elected Tim Pawlenty refusing to hike a single tax in the face of an acute budget crisis, former Minnesota Gov. Wendell Anderson stood at a Humphrey Institute podium flanked by three fellow former Minnesota governors and demanded, "Where's Mr. Wigley? He runs state government. Do you know Mike Wigley?"

Wigley is the brains behind the "no new taxes pledge," a tool his Taxpayers League started pushing on state legislators. When he was still in the Minnesota House of Representatives, Pawlenty took the pledge, under the influence of Wigley's patented brand of urging, to raise no kind of tax no matter how deep the state's financial woes.

Wigley made his millions in construction. He's chairman, president, and CEO of Great Plains Companies, Inc. He has degrees from Stanford and Harvard. And he's got a monomaniacal fix on his issue: taxes. Specifically, eliminating them. And he's a walk-the-walk man: He's donated $95,500 of his own money to the Taxpayers League over the years.

When state government hits a wall over one tax issue or another, you will probably find Wigley in a corner somewhere smirking. But it's not just about muscle. The league doubles as a research center, issuing talking points to fuel the tax debate. Sure, says Weber, "Wigley pisses a lot of people off—but that's his job." Weber observes that Minnesotans—liberals and conservatives alike—occasionally lock arms on tax issues. "And in a liberal political climate, in areas where we do have some common ground, there needs to be somebody to organize around it."

And organize Wigley does. Relentlessly. He's called for the resignation of a state Republican speaker of the House. In recent months, he's called on Chamber of Commerce members to revoke their membership.

"He's been able to mobilize an extraordinary amount of money for anti-tax campaigns," says Steven Schier, a professor of political science at Carleton. "That voice didn't exist in Minnesota politics before him. He made a material difference in Minnesota politics."

THE SUGAR DADDY

Robert Cummins

Founder, Freedom Club Political Action Commitee

CEO, Primera Technology

Deephaven's Robert Cummins, 56, is that most curious of political animals: He asserts his influence through money alone and seeks no special attention for it. He's never run for office; he doesn't write op-eds or speak to the media; he's not on the lecture circuit. He is a strict conservative, an evangelical Christian, and as CEO of Primera Technology, a very wealthy man.

He distributes his fortunes generously, but not widely. These days, most CEOs give to both major parties—a sort of protection plan against the inevitable shifts of the political winds. Cummins's money is red only. He's given $325,000 to the state Republican Party since 1998, and in that same period he's written dozens of checks to state committees and candidates—$250 and $500 at a time—totaling more than $35,000.

He's also a faithful contributor to Freedom Club—a group founded by a cadre of Minnesota entrepreneurs, including Cummins (who led the group in its early stages), which raises money for the Republican Party and its candidates through separate state and federal political action committees, or PACs (since the club's inception, he's given the state PAC $13,000 and the federal PAC $30,000). The group donates to candidates and causes that toe a strict conservative line. It's a powerful interest group in the state that has irked Democrats and Republicans alike.

William Cooper credits Freedom Club efforts as being a "key element in the resurgence of the state Republican Party."

But it's not just the party that gets Cummins's money. He also feeds the coffers of organizations doing the fieldwork of conservative core issues. Since 2004, he's given $408,000 to the anti-gay-marriage groups Minnesota Citizens in Defense of Marriage and the like-minded Minnesotans for Marriage.

THE LIFER

Jack Meeks

CEO, The Walker Group

The logging town of Walker didn't have but one and a half square miles to it when Jack Meeks was growing up. But it had a Teenage Republicans club that he organized himself at age 14. Now 56, he's been a Party man all his life.

Tony Sutton calls Meeks a master grassroots strategy man. "On campaigns big and small," he says, Meeks "is the guy who puts it all together." If you're a Republican interested in an elected office in Minnesota, you're going to cross paths with Meeks. He organized volunteers for both of George W. Bush's statewide campaigns, and he brings a kind of top-down experience to his bottom-up efforts. He was Vin Weber's chief of staff in the U.S. Congress, and when Ronald Reagan was assembling his transition team in '79, Meeks was asked on board. He served on the Republican National Committee for 13 years.