For someone who is causing such a big commotion, State Sen. Carl Kruger (D-Brooklyn) occupies a very small office.

The room is roughly eight by eight feet. There is a picture on a bookshelf of Kruger smiling with Bill Clinton, a bust of John F. Kennedy, various letters scattered across his computer-less desk, two purple chairs for visitors and room for little else except Kruger’s stockiness.

While talking about the roots of his insurrection in the Senate, Kruger comes off as equal parts charming, self-deprecating, angry and disappointed. His eyes can go wide behind gold-colored frames and his voice high-pitched when he is being particularly emphatic.

He is used to being the punching bag, the pariah, the odd man out, Kruger said. But he also relishes his role as the leader of the gang of renegade senators who have thrown the leadership of the Senate into turmoil and capped what was already one of the most tumultuous years in New York political history.

This is all, he said, part of the plan.

“A good sea captain for 90 percent of his journey never sees land,” he said, “but always knows where he’s going.”

Jabbing a thick finger at his desk, Kruger said his colleagues should have seen this rebellion brewing. Kruger, along with his fellow agents of chaos Sen. Ruben Diaz, Sr. (D-Bronx) and Senator-elect Pedro Espada, Jr. (D-Bronx), have been involved in a weeks-long battle of wills with Senate Democratic Leader Malcolm Smith (D-Queens) that has enraged many of their colleagues, confused others, delighted Republicans and captivated political circles across the state.

“This is not new,” he said. “People want to make this out to be a power grab. A food fight. An opportunity to gain some traction. This is a well-thought-out lifetime commitment by somebody who has always walked against the wind.”

Kruger defended his method of extracting leadership positions and promises of rule changes from Smith in exchange for loyalty.

“This is a barter system,” he said. “There will be trade-offs.”

And yet while he engaged in closed-door meetings that centered on an apparent quid pro quo for him and his fellow dissidents, Kruger still talks of reforming the political system by throwing open the windows and casting sunlight on the process.

Kruger’s roots are in the political shops of Anthony “Big Tony” Genovese and Stanley Fink, both former Assembly Democrats and allies of old-school Brooklyn Party Boss Meade Esposito. As assistant director of member services in the Assembly, Kruger said he was adept at picking up long-held Republican seats for Democrats. After years of running other people’s campaigns, he won his own in a 1994 special election for Senate.

Once elected, Kruger said, he sought out ways to buck the system. Newly elected Gov. George Pataki (R), who ran and won on his promise to restore the death penalty in New York, sent a bill to the legislature as one of his first acts as governor. Even though Kruger’s political mentors were staunchly opposed to the death penalty, he voted for the bill, explaining it was what his right-leaning constituents wanted.

“That sort of set up my maverick status,” he said. “I wasn’t going to do what I was told, but I was going to do what I thought was the right thing.”

In 2002, Kruger fought to prevent the redrawing of his district to include more minority communities. He characterized the reapportionment as an effort to pencil him out of his own district, but he declined to assign blame to any one party.

“They thought they had an opportunity to extract their pound of flesh, and there’s quite a few pounds,” he said, looking down at his protruding stomach.

Kruger went to Pataki and then-Senate Majority Leader Joseph Bruno (R-Rensselaer) and struck a deal that would keep his district intact (and mainly white).

Kruger maintained a beneficial relationship with the Republican majority over the years, endorsing Pataki and other Republicans over their Democratic opponents. While his colleagues languished in the minority, Kruger was given the chairmanship of the social services committee.

This year’s election put Kruger in a spot. With registered Democrats in 32 of the 62 seats in the Senate, he either had to make a move or risk the wrath of his resentful colleagues.

He dismissed the idea that his power play was more out of self-preservation than a desire for real reform, citing the hundreds of thousands of dollars he has given to his fellow Democrats as proof of his loyalty.

“I think what’s happened here is good for everybody,” he said. “If anybody’s upset, it’s because they think somebody is muscling in on their territory.”

But Democrats were also in a bind. They needed Kruger to solidify their control of the chamber. Plus, Kruger’s popularity in his district and his $1.7 million war chest made him a difficult target for a primary challenge. Still, many were left wondering why progressive groups like the Working Families Party went after Sens. John Sabini (D-Queens) and Martin Connor (D-Manhattan/Brooklyn), both of whom were reliable Democratic votes, instead of Kruger, whose role as a troublemaker for the Democrats hoping to take power is hardly surprising. Some theorize that the WFP’s presence in his district, which consists of ultra-orthodox Jews and right-leaning Russian immigrants, would only have bolstered Kruger’s position. And if he was challenged and still managed to win, Kruger would have been even more resentful than he is now.  

For his part, Kruger is unapologetic about standing in the way of an orderly transition for the Democrats. He also feels that the economic crisis has afforded him a special opportunity to force the Democrats to concede to his demands for reform.

“I was so committed and I felt so strongly about what we could accomplish here, I didn’t care if we closed down government, because sometimes you have to take drastic steps when you’re trying to make drastic changes,” he said.

As far as drastic goes, Kruger talks of destroying the old partisan divides, allowing Republicans to chair committees in a Democratic chamber and reseating the Senate in alphabetical order. In deference to Espada and Diaz, he says he wants more Hispanic lawmakers in leadership positions. But what he can actually accomplish now that the deal with Smith is suspended, and perhaps dead, is unclear.

Before the deal vanished, Kruger was looking forward to chairing a more powerful Finance Committee. He said he wanted to make the redistricting process less vengeful. Campaign finance reform was on his list too. He was not thinking so much of running for Brooklyn borough president as he once was.

Even though he appears to enjoy the attention all this has brought him, Kruger says he tries to remain modest, which has been difficult given his central position in the upheaval.

“The Krugers come and go, they don’t mean anything,” he said, flashing a gap-toothed smile. “What matters is the system. And the system has to work.”