IN JANUARY, when House leaders visited our editorial board to talk about the upcoming legislative session, they mentioned repeatedly how excited they were about working with Gov. Mark Sanford. When we asked about their plans on various issues, they often said they were waiting to see what their new Republican governor focused on, and what he proposed. Clearly, they wanted direction from him.

Less than three months later, it looks for all the world like those same people are determined to cut him off at the knees.

What went wrong?

I can't say for sure; it's downright bizarre. But to the extent that there is an understandable explanation, it is that Mr. Sanford has not cultivated the kind of relationship that some legislators demand.

Although he has reached out impressively in some areas -- visiting the legislative chambers and going to legislators' offices to meet with them rather than summoning them to his office -- Mr. Sanford apparently has failed to pay proper obeisance to our sensitive solons.

Things first flared up when Mr. Sanford did what previous governors (except his most immediate predecessor) did routinely: vetoed local bills, which are passed by the legislators from a single county and affect only that county. Like his predecessors, Mr. Sanford determined that the state constitution prohibits such bills.

Previous vetoes were overridden routinely. But this generated a firestorm among Charleston Republicans, who, lacking the votes to save one controversial bill, said they were blindsided. It seems silly to suggest that a governor should notify legislators in advance of such routine (and appropriate) action, but an official from former Gov. David Beasley's administration tells me his staff always did so.

Things went south in the Upstate around the same time, when Mr. Sanford started asking questions about a major economic development project. Rumors flew that the Charleston governor was stealing the deal from Greenville to send it home. That was ridiculous, but it took Mr. Sanford more than a month to act to quell the rumors, and yet another week to spell out his objections publicly.

It was against that backdrop that Mr. Sanford came out in favor of a plan to raise the cigarette tax in return for gradually lowering income tax rates. It seemed a routine enough thing: Mr. Sanford had proposed this in his State of the State address; his announcement merely filled in details. And it came after multiple discussions with House leaders.

But it was a plan they disliked. Worse, Gov. Hamlet spent so long deciding whether to push the plan over their objection that he ended up making his announcement the very day after the House finished debate on a budget bill that relied on an alternative to the cigarette tax increase. This seemed logical to the governor, because House Republicans had convinced Democrats to delay debate on the cigarette tax until after the budget debate. But some legislators still saw the timing as Mr. Sanford trying to one-up them. And there is nothing a governor can do to damage his relationship with legislators more than that.

The reaction was furious. Republicans complained of being blindsided. House Speaker David Wilkins adopted the kind of language you use to defeat an opponent on the campaign trail, attacking Mr. Sanford's "huge tax increase." He pitched opposition to the plan in personal terms and asked House Republicans to support him by opposing it.

Republican insiders are astounded by the emotional intensity this battle has taken on. They characterized House leaders as being determined to show Mr. Sanford who's in charge. One told me things didn't get this emotional even when House Republicans battled Mr. Beasley over the Confederate flag -- a battle that a former Beasley aide noted has left lingering scars to this day.

For his part, Mr. Wilkins says he's trying to protect the governor, because he's afraid that if the House went along with Mr. Sanford's plan, the Senate would strip out the income tax cut and send him a bill with just a cigarette tax increase, which he has pledged to veto. That would result in even deeper cuts to Medicaid.

For the record, Mr. Wilkins took the House floor Thursday to say I mischaracterized his statement that the governor was "in a precarious position" because the Senate might send him a cigarette tax increase without the income tax credit. Since the Senate can't send the governor anything without the House's agreement, I had concluded that the speaker "appeared to be publicly threatening his own governor .‘.‘. by suggesting that if backed into a corner, he might send him a cigarette tax hike sans income tax cut." Mr. Wilkins said this was "absolutely the most mean-spirited statement" he had ever seen.

Obviously, I don't know what is in Mr. Wilkins' heart; if he says he was not threatening the governor, I can't argue with him. But I'm not the only one who interpreted his comments as a threat. Whether intentional or not, the impression he has given -- through such comments and the lengths to which he has gone to fight the cigarette tax -- is that of a person who is determined to defeat his governor at any cost.

And that doesn't do anybody -- nor Mr. Wilkins, not Mr. Sanford, and certainly not the people of South Carolina -- any good.