North Carolina’s most powerful politician now has something to prove | Opinion

One after another, state Sen. Phil Berger has started rolling out endorsements from allies old and new.

Agriculture Commissioner Steve Troxler. State Auditor Dave Boliek. The sheriff from Alamance County. Even former legislators.

All standard fare — in campaign season. But it’s May of an odd-numbered year. The next General Assembly election is still 10 months away.

Ordinarily, this is the time for legislation and budget negotiations, not public campaigning. But Berger isn’t treating this like a typical off-year.

He’s not acting like the politician who has coasted through reelection after reelection without breaking a sweat. He’s acting like someone with something to prove.

And that’s because, for the first time in a long time, Phil Berger has a real race on his hands.

A formidable challenge

Since first winning his Senate seat in 2000, Berger has rarely faced serious opposition. That freedom has given him space not just to legislate, but to build.

Today, he doesn’t just lead the Senate. He sets the agenda for the legislature, controls the campaign dollars that power swing-seat Republicans and directs a political machine that touches nearly every major decision in state government. When a bill gets written, a judge gets picked, or a Council of State seat opens up, Berger is involved — often decisively.

But that long stretch without competition may have come at a cost. While Berger was shaping the state to his liking, his ties to his home turf in Rockingham County began to fray.

Now, for the first time in more than a decade, he’s being forced to look back.

This year’s challenge comes from Sheriff Sam Page — a fellow Republican with deep local roots and a sizable following among conservatives. Page has served as Rockingham County sheriff since 1998, cultivating a reputation as a tough-on-crime, pro-Trump lawman who’s never shied away from a fight.

He considered challenging Berger in 2024, but stepped aside and instead launched a run for lieutenant governor. He didn’t come close statewide — but in Rockingham County, he dominated.

That’s not new. In 2014, Berger won 59% of the county vote. Page, on the same ballot, earned 76%. A flawed but telling 2023 poll showed Page starting a primary race with a lead.

The warning signs haven’t stopped. Last year, Berger’s son Kevin, a county commissioner and close political ally, barely survived a primary challenge, winning by just three votes.

Voters in Rockingham know both men well. And in a political climate growing more hostile to entrenched power, Page may offer the contrast local Republicans didn’t know they wanted, until now.

The casino that cracked the foundation

Over the years, Berger’s influence has become more than legislative. Through appointments, budgets, and legal power, the Berger family has embedded itself in nearly every layer of government — all anchored in a single rural district.

But that level of reach creates distance. And in 2023, the cracks started to show.

Berger backed a plan to bring casino gambling to four locations across North Carolina, including a site in Rockingham County. The response was immediate. Residents packed public meetings. Lawsuits followed. Political allies became critics. Page emerged as one of the plan’s most vocal opponents.

Even supporters of the idea expressed frustration with the process: opaque, rushed, and largely detached from local input.

It was a rare public misstep for a politician known for always being two moves ahead. And it deepened a perception that had been building for years: Berger was no longer the small-town lawyer from Eden, but a Raleigh power broker who’d lost touch with the voters who sent him there.

A bruising campaign ahead

Berger isn’t behaving like someone expecting a sleepy primary.

The early endorsements. New email newsletters. A spike in sponsored legislation. It’s the kind of retail politics he hasn’t needed in years — maybe decades.

And when Page suggested Berger might try to revive the gambling bill this session, the pushback came swiftly.

“Unlike Sam Page, Senator Berger is neither a liar nor a political opportunist,” Berger’s campaign spokesman told The News & Observer in February. “And unlike Sam Page, when Senator Berger says something, voters can believe it.”

That’s not a quote you give when you’re feeling confident.

The old rule in politics still holds: If you’re not worried, you ignore the criticism. If you are, you punch back.

Berger still holds every advantage that matters: the fundraising network, institutional loyalty and the tools of legislative power. But this time, that may not be enough.

To keep his seat, he’ll have to campaign like he means it — and like he remembers what it feels like to fight for votes.

Because this time, the outcome isn’t guaranteed.