It’s hard to keep a secret in the Georgia Capitol, and for a few hours last week the building crackled with buzz that a Senate committee was poised to hold a first-ever vote to fully expand Medicaid — and that it could actually pass.

It would have been an extraordinary moment, the first time since the federal Affordable Care Act was signed into law 14 years ago that the Republican-led Legislature voted at any level to approve an expansion.

It also would have been a remarkable rebuke to Gov. Brian Kemp, who campaigned vigorously against Medicaid expansion and put forth his more limited program as a more palatable alternative to fellow Republicans.

Sensing a threat to his signature health care program, Kemp took swift steps to bury the bill. When the Senate committee deadlocked 7-7 on the measure, halting its advance, Kemp’s aides heaved a sigh of relief — and shelved a scorched-earth response.

It was a rare direct intervention from Kemp into the everyday sausage making of the legislative session that ends on Thursday, when he will then have 40 days to sign or veto dozens of bills.

For the broad majority of measures pending under the Gold Dome, even the consequential and controversial, Kemp has taken no public stance.

He rarely uses his bully pulpit to badger or bemoan lawmakers, letting them instead scrap over measures involving religious freedom , hospital regulations, transgender rights, tax policy and sports betting without intervening.

Nor has he waded into most of the heated debates over changes to voting laws, a topic dear to him after serving for roughly a decade as the state’s top election official.

But for the smaller batch of bills he considers top priorities, Kemp is far more hands-on. As one ally remarked, Kemp adheres to a “let them fight it out” philosophy — unless it’s a fight he is spoiling to join.

“It’s a light touch approach in the General Assembly,” said Brian Robinson, who was a key deputy to Kemp’s predecessor, Republican Gov. Nathan Deal. “And it creates a lot of goodwill when the governor does have a priority.”

Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC

Credit: Arvin Temkar/AJC

That approach has triggered no small amount of grumbling among some at the Capitol, allies and adversaries alike, who feel his arm’s-length approach has left a void others are all too willing to fill.

Lt. Gov. Burt Jones, for one, has directed the Senate to push a range of culture war measures that Kemp has been reluctant to embrace.

“We’re seeing Burt Jones trying to assert himself,” said state Rep. Michelle Au, a Johns Creek Democrat. “And the governor is holding his powder dry for the things that really matter to him.”

He’s ‘everywhere’

Kemp’s behind-the-scenes approach with the Legislature is nothing new in a Gold Dome where governors often pursue their top priorities behind closed doors rather than in the glare of TV cameras.

It’s much the same strategy Kemp took last year, when he kept a relatively low profile during the legislative session — surprising many who expected a more assertive tack after his reelection victory.

He rarely used his considerable megaphone to amplify specific legislation and largely abstained from issuing veto threats, preferring to publicly defer to lawmakers and work quietly to sharpen measures and temper others.

Unlike some of his predecessors, though, Kemp can afford to throw his weight around. Polls regularly show him as the most popular Republican in the state, feeding speculation he could run for the U.S. Senate in 2026 or perhaps the White House in 2028.

Such is his soft power that even his critics acknowledge he doesn’t need to say or do much about pending measures to loom over the Statehouse. Lawmakers fret about what he’ll think about pending proposals even if they’re far from his radar.

“Even if he doesn’t talk much publicly about legislation, we’re all in the same building,” said state Rep. Ruwa Romman, D-Duluth. “So even when he’s not around, he’s still everywhere.”

And few legislators can forget another sort of intervention: Kemp’s political machine fought to derail a far-right social media personality from winning a special House election. That candidate, C.J. Pearson, was shellacked in a runoff earlier this month and recently abandoned another bid.

Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC

Still, Kemp’s more reserved strategy is a departure from past legislative sessions, when the governor took center stage to push new abortion restrictions, firearms expansions, an overhaul of election laws and other nationally watched proposals.

His stiff-necked approach in 2022 yielded a slew of policy wins designed to help him ward off challenges from the right and the left, including a significant gun rights expansion and a teacher pay hike.

But getting so aggressively out front can also yield problems. His first tumultuous session in office, in 2019, triggered incessant warring with then-House Speaker David Ralston over the state’s spending initiatives. Those wounds took time and effort to heal.

These days, Kemp is more likely to emphasize his deep respect for lawmakers stemming from his own stint in the Legislature representing his hometown of Athens in the Senate about two decades ago.

“As he has throughout his tenure, the governor views the House and Senate as partners in building a safer, stronger Georgia,” said Kemp adviser Cody Hall. “But he won’t shy away from leading on issues that are important to him and the hardworking Georgians who elected him to a second term by wide margins.”

‘How can you vote no?’

This year, Kemp made clear from the earliest days of the session that he would pursue a more limited agenda bound mostly in the record $36 billion budget.

He took more of his most pressing issues off the table when he pulled the plug on a far-ranging effort to curb “frivolous” lawsuits and quickly signed measures to combat antisemitism and give a state commission power to punish “rogue” prosecutors.

Kemp’s wariness to wade into legislative battles has made his few public statements about legislation more notable.

Credit: TNS

When some lawmakers sought retribution against Rivian for delaying a $5 billion electric vehicle plant in east Georgia, Kemp called for “cooler heads to prevail” and warned that any rash action could deter other economic development projects. So far, there’s been no concrete effort to punish the automaker.

And when a school voucher measure atop Kemp’s agenda seemed to stall, the governor urged legislators to take action, saying there’s “no more next years.”

Au, the Democratic legislator, noted with begrudging respect how the House passed that measure days later. His influence, even cautiously applied, still outstrips Jones and House Speaker Jon Burns, who are both still fairly new in their jobs.

“We always talk about the Capitol being a three-legged stool, but I don’t know if it’s ever been as unbalanced as it is now,” Au said. “You have two relatively new legs of the stool, and then Kemp — a very popular and powerful governor.”

Still, Kemp’s reticence has its limits. While he might not mind pushback on his priorities, he’s made clear he won’t forget those who oppose the human trafficking crackdowns championed by his wife, Marty, that often pass with overwhelming support.

Neither will she. At a commission meeting last week, she said she hoped to win over the handful of conservative lawmakers who have voted against her initiatives in the past. She then made a not-so-subtle hint her husband would also be watching closely.

“How can you vote ‘no’ on that? If you see your legislators, tell them thank you — or tell them to get straight on this issue,” Marty Kemp said. “Everyone needs to be held accountable.”