opinion

Norm Coleman was in his back yard, making a gracious but belated concession and bringing an end to one of the ugliest chapters in Minnesota campaign history. So it seemed fitting that, at that moment, an international expert in conflict resolution named Brian Polkinghorn should chance to walk past on the sidewalk, pushing a baby stroller.

I love St. Paul: You try to chat with a guy walking on the sidewalk and he turns out to be a Fulbright scholar and executive director of the Center for Conflict Resolution at Salisbury University in Maryland who has been involved in peace work in Croatia, Israel, Ireland and Nepal, and who may even have words of wisdom for Minnesotans bruised and battered by unprecedented levels of partisan conflict and irresponsible rhetoric.

Former Sen. Coleman (no relation of mine) scored a lot of feel-good points for his gentlemanly withdrawal Tuesday, but let's get real: His "gracious" exit came after 238 days of haymakers and head-butting and had all the voluntary grace of a boxer who staggers to his feet after he has been counted out and says, groggily, "OK, I give up."

Minnesota was split to the core over last November's indecisive outcome, the recount, the canvassing and the courtroom aftermaths. Even as Norm was conceding in his back yard, Franken signs still stood in his neighbor's yards, and some of his mostly Democratic neighbors planned to celebrate with fireworks and sparklers, getting the jump on July 4th with a June 30 celebration of Franken's victory.

Clearly, we are far from being healed or united after our long seasons of dispute. This is where the words of Brian Polkinghorn might be useful.

Polkinghorn was taking his 21-month-old son, Nathan, for a stroll when he noticed the TV trucks outside Norm's house. Polkinghorn -- who followed the Senate stand-off this past winter by reading about it in the Himalayan Times in Nepal, where he was teaching -- realized he had stumbled upon a bit of history shortly after an unanimous state Supreme Court decision tossed Coleman's weak arguments in the dumpster of history.

Polkinghorn, 46, is married to a St. Paul woman named Catherine Diekmann and was in town visiting relatives when the curtain came down on the Coleman-Franken soap opera. He told me that the legacy of conflict -- the bad feelings and deep resentments -- may linger for years if we don't take care to come to a resolution.

In Nepal, where Polkinghorn has been involved in peace work following a civil war, political conflict is deep and the way out includes trying to build a social commitment to a common purpose and vision for the future, plus respect for the opponent.

"They say 'namaste,' to each other in Nepal, which means I may disagree with you, and disagree deeply, but 'I bow to the divine spirit in you,'" Polkinghorn said as Norm was wrapping up his back-yard news conference. "In other words, we can disagree, but you must have the utmost respect for the people you disagree with. I think that's the right thing in this country, too -- to disagree, but to be diplomatic.

"In Nepal, people believe that we are all living in a chain of generations, so we must take care not to transfer our struggles to the next generations. We have to come to some agreement now. I think Minnesota is ready for that, now. I hope so."

How would the Nepalese have handled this election dispute, I asked Polkinghorn?

"In Nepal," he said with a smile, "it would have been settled long ago."

So our 2008 Senate election contest -- with all its rancor and hard feelings -- is finally behind us. But there is more work to be done. We have much to learn.

Namaste.

Nick Coleman is a senior fellow at the Eugene J. McCarthy Center for Public Policy & Civic Engagement at the College of St. Benedict/St. John's University. He can be reached at nickcolemanonline@gmail.com.