William Cooper, the brash, outspoken chairman of TCF Financial Corp. in Minneapolis, grew up in a Democratic household, had a father who belonged to the United Auto Workers, and worked his way through college walking the night beat as a Detroit cop.
Despite that background, Mr. Cooper was elected chairman of the Minnesota Republican Party this month, promising to infuse the organization with a new enthusiasm and firebrand conservatism.
If his record as TCF chief executive officer for the past 12 years is any indication, Mr. Cooper will surely stir the pot of Minnesota politics during his two-year term.
In a recent interview, Mr. Cooper, 53, said the political post wouldn't detract from his responsibilities at $7.1 billion-asset TCF. He said he intends to delegate day-to-day party responsibilities while he focuses on the big picture.
Though he admitted that it is unusual for a person of his corporate stature to get engrossed in grassroots politicking, he said it shouldn't seem strange.
"Business people used to be active in the political process," Mr. Cooper said. "Today, people don't do it as much. A lot of people are afraid of the impact of it. So many companies partake in corporate welfare, they just donate money to both sides."
He said he is not interested in running for elective office.
High taxes, deteriorating public schools, and rising crime are the main issues Mr. Cooper campaigned on to beat party activist Ruth Ann Michnay. His goals include keeping a Republican in the governor's office and gaining control of the state House of Representatives in 1998.
Despite his family ties to labor, Mr. Cooper said unions representing public employees unduly influence state government through contributions.
He has at least one critic in GOP-business ranks: Norbert McCrady, retired chief executive officer of the Independent Bankers Association of Minnesota. He said he fears Mr. Cooper's "ultra-conservatism" would hurt the party's efforts to attract a broader base of support. "He won't have much appeal to moderate Republicans, and the party needs them to be a force in Minnesota politics," Mr. McCrady said.
Ironically, Mr. Cooper's bank actively seeks working-class customers, the very lunch-pail crowd that was one of the historical pillars of the Democratic Party. That doesn't faze Mr. Cooper.
"If they hear my story on lower taxes, I think they'll like it," Mr. Cooper said. "I believe Minnesotans, when you talk to them one on one, are very conservative."
Analyst Ben Crabtree of Dain Bosworth Inc. in Minneapolis said he doesn't think Mr. Cooper's new role will hurt his business.
Customers "probably disagree with Bill on his economic policies but not on his social issues," said Mr. Crabtree. "Many people here are anti-crime. They're not big fans of gay rights. I think they like guys who thumb their noses at the stuffed shirts, and Bill does that."
Mr. Cooper insisted being a Republican hasn't betrayed his blue-collar roots.
"The Democratic Party used to be the party of the working people," he said. "Now it's the party of big government, the very wealthy, and those who want to mooch off the welfare system.
"The party left me, I didn't leave it."
Soon after he moved to Minneapolis from Ohio in 1985 to take over then- struggling Twin City Federal Savings and Loan Association, Mr. Cooper found Minnesota wasn't as well-ordered a place as he had anticipated. His car was broken into and his radar detector stolen.
"People say it's a cold place and there's no crime," he said. "Well, it's still a cold place, but the crime rate has gone up."
Mr. Cooper is credited with turning around TCF from near failure to high profitability. "We escaped the '80s alive," said vice chairman Robert Evans, calling it a testament to Mr. Cooper's leadership.
Mr. Cooper has been outspoken on banking issues at a national level. The move into state political leadership adds just one more interesting chapter to a varied life.
"As we all know, Bill Cooper is not your prototypical bank CEO," Mr. Crabtree said.
