Return to story

After a bitter political campaign, can peace be forged?

November 4, 2007 12:36 am

WHEN campaigns go bad, politics becomes a very uncivil war. Sadly, that's what's happened this year in the race to fill the 28th District Senate seat being vacated by retiring Sen. John Chichester. The two candidates, Richard Stuart and Albert Pollard Jr., were friends at the beginning. Both are from the Northern Neck, both are honorable men, both are thoughtful moderates, both have much to offer Virginia. Yet feathers, first ruffled, began to fly during the campaign, and we are much the poorer for it.

I understand that going to war in politics is sometimes necessary: there are some issues, principles, and people worthy of the fight. But the bitterness and anger, the vitriol and accusations that have marked this campaign have been of the he-said, she-said variety. Neither of these men, if elected on Tuesday, will singlehandedly bring down the republic or deliver our children to be burned. So why all the contention?

Last February, embroiled in a personal conflict of my own, I attended a weekend peacemaking conference in Williamsburg. Of course, my friends and I knew that, in regard to the conflict, I was totally right. Certainly I was treading the moral high ground and was completely justified in my position. But some still, small voice speaking to my heart suggested there may be something I could learn from the principles of peacemaking.

In fact, there was a lot I needed to learn. When conflict erupts, conference leader Tara Bethel said, our tendency is to either escape or fight. We either kiss the relationship goodbye, or assault the other person. Either of these may feel good; neither puts us on the right path. The peacemaking response is a hand-over-hand rock climb to life on a higher plane: tough to do, but worth the effort. And it begins with the recognition that we are not God: It's not our job to perfectly control every situation in our lives.

Conflict squeezes us, and out comes bitterness, anger, even hatred. I wasn't happy during the conference when I looked in my own heart and saw those poisons lurking there. On the other hand, recognizing them is the first step to confessing and getting rid of them. It's difficult to incisively identify the splinter in the other fellow's eye when a log mars your own vision, so dumping these negative attitudes is essential. Bethel pointed out that "Even if you are only 1 or 2 percent responsible for the conflict" you fall into the category of "imperfect"--which means you have something you can change.

We humans have a tendency to put ourselves on a pedestal and our opponents in a pit. How many times since February have I noticed myself climbing up on the marble? But purposely focusing on the enemy's good points and adopting charitable presumptions about him helps level the playing field. Of course, that's the last thing I want to do in the middle of a fight! The pedestal-pit image has helped me work on that.

Keeping conflict as private as possible as long as possible also tamps down the fires of contention, but our usual mode is to gather our armies of friends and march into battle. I keep wondering, what if our candidates had corrected each other's misstatements and misquotes over coffee rather than in glossy mailouts sent to thousands of homes?

Finally, peacemaking involves forgiveness and reconciliation, a commitment to get beyond feelings and refuse to allow the bone of contention to remain between you and your enemy, to value your relationship over your "right to be right."

Bethel pointed out that forgiveness can be unilateral: A one-sided decision to release the other from your judgment regardless of his reciprocation. This is saying "I will not dwell on this." All too often, like a cow chewing her cud, we enjoy ruminating over the ways we've been wronged. But, as Bethel said, "unforgiveness is a poison we drink hoping someone else will die." The gift of forgiveness is essential for peace.

Reconciliation is a deliberate effort to restore a relationship to the level it was before the conflict erupted. It may be a slow process--rebuilding trust takes time, but by recognizing our own failures, confessing them, correctly confronting, and forgiving, the process can move forward.

Fall has finally arrived. The stretches of closely cropped corn on Northern Neck farms are inviting Canada geese and deer to come and eat. Migrating waterfowl rest easy on the great rivers and, on the river bottoms, crabs are slowly moving down to the southern part of the Chesapeake, where they will burrow in the mud for the winter. Life goes on, as it has for eons, and as it will even after Tuesday's election.

Sometime in the future, in a duck blind, or out on the water in a boat, or over a cup of coffee, I hope two good men will lay down their barbs and let go of this bitter campaign and be reconciled. Virginia needs legislators--and private citizens--who've learned the art of peacemaking the hard way.