At last week’s hearing called by St. Paul City Council Member Dave Thune, we heard what’s become the standard story line on police conduct during protests at the Republican National Convention. Critics would have us believe that thousands of earnest grandmas — paragons of Minnesota Nice — gathered peacefully in St. Paul throughout the convention to exercise their First Amendment rights.

Sure, there were a handful of bad apples — black-clad anarchists who broke a few store windows. But police should have targeted them and left the peace-loving folks alone, insist critics.

In leftist la-la land, anarchists apparently huddle in little groups, holding high their Molotov cocktails for easy identification while calling out, “Over here, officer. We’re the ones you’re looking for.”

Law enforcement officials have to act in the real world. At a news conference last week, Ramsey County Sheriff Bob Fletcher described Sept. 1, the day of the biggest protest march, as “eight hours of chaos and mayhem.”

In some cases, police officers found it difficult to distinguish anarchists from other participants in the march, which lawbreakers used as cover, said Fletcher in an interview. Some so-called peaceful protesters hindered police who were seeking to arrest anarchists.

Law enforcement challenges were compounded by the fact that the leaders of the legal march facilitated, and effectively condoned, the anarchist mayhem.

Protest activity at the convention was coordinated by two main groups. The first, an umbrella organization called the Coalition to March on the RNC and Stop the War, organized the legal march on Sept. 1. The second, a self-described anarchist group called the RNC Welcoming Committee, orchestrated the illegal activity and violence.

The coalition didn’t explicitly advocate violence. But its leaders operated in coordination with groups that did, and sometimes worked directly with them.

Early in the protest planning process, the RNC Welcoming Committee made clear that it intended to use illegal, paramilitary guerrilla tactics to shut down the convention and disrupt the Twin Cities.

Months ago, the coalition declared its support for anarchist tactics, including “blockades” and “direct action.” Coalition leaders joined with the RNC Welcoming Committee and other protest groups in endorsing “principles of unity,” or “the St. Paul Principles,” in which organizations that planned to protest on Sept. 1 pledged their “solidarity.”

These principles appear on both the coalition’s and the RNC Welcoming Committee’s websites. By endorsing them, coalition leaders committed themselves to “respect for diversity of tactics and the plans of other groups.”

“We have worked for common ground,” the principles stated, “… to ensure that our various projects work in concert, with a commitment to ensure no one’s plans are disrupted or undermined by fellow protesters.”

While the principles provided that various protest groups’ “actions and tactics” — legal and illegal — would be “organized to maintain a separation of time or space,” signers agreed not to criticize any other group’s tactics.

They also agreed to oppose any surveillance or infiltration of other groups by law enforcement, and vowed “not to assist law enforcement actions against activists and others.”

Early in the protest planning process, anarchist groups announced their intention to encircle the Xcel Energy Center on the convention’s opening day. Their goal was to prevent delegates from entering or leaving the building, and to use “swarm, seize, stay” tactics to bring the convention to a halt.

When the coalition applied for a permit to march on Sept. 1, it sought — intentionally or unintentionally — a route and time that would have facilitated the anarchists’ plans. St. Paul officials expressed concerns about the coalition’s request for a route that encircled the Xcel, and proposed an alternative. In response, the coalition launched a court battle. The judge echoed the city’s concerns about encirclement, and approved a route that approached the convention site at only one point.

On Sept. 2, the day after the march, coalition leaders expressed their “solidarity” with anarchist actions by calling a joint news conference with the RNC Welcoming Committee and other groups to “denounce police repression and brutality, and discuss plans for continuing protests planned for the week of the RNC.”

The coalition’s press release also “condemned police raids” on anarchist sites, which had uncovered instruments of mayhem ranging from devices for disabling buses to the components of Molotov cocktails, according to the Ramsey County Sheriff’s Office.

Throughout the Republican National Convention, Twin Cities law enforcement officials faced daunting challenges. Though preemptive raids undercut anarchists’ ability to wreak havoc, rioters were able to smash store and car windows, block intersections, attack delegate buses, slash tires and assault officers.

If police had not stopped the anarchists before nightfall on Sept. 1, according to Fletcher, “this town would have been destroyed.”

Those who provided cover for the thugs who tried to shut down our cities shouldn’t be bellyaching about police mistreatment. They should be ashamed.

Will John McCain’s vice-presidential selection add a few critical electoral votes? How will the GOP’s energy policy play in Ohio and Florida?

This, folks, is what high political drama looks like at a convention in a country whose democracy has endured for 232 years.

But what if you live in a nation whose democratic government is just struggling out from under totalitarian rule? What if you came of age in a country that was splintering, with bloody warfare and ethnic cleansing just down the road?

What if your infant democracy — less than two decades old — is still standing on thin ice?

There are a number of people who know what that’s like at the Republican National Convention. One is Nikola Gruevski, the 38-year-old prime minister of Macedonia. In 1991, his country — long part of Yugoslavia — won its independence when that country disintegrated.

Yugoslavia’s civil war produced the nightmares of Serbia and Kosovo. Macedonia emerged from the process intact, but faced daunting challenges. They included a history of Communist oppression, a flood of refugees, pervasive corruption, and an epidemic of poverty and unemployment.

At age 26, Gruevski had joined a center-right party, the VMRO-DPMNE, and threw himself into the process of building a new nation. He was inspired by a generation of anti-Communist dissidents, as well as “the 1,000-year-old dream of Macedonians to have a nation of their own,” he said.

Gruevski and other party members are in the Twin Cities as part of a delegation sponsored by the International Democratic Union. The IDU was founded in 1983 by Ronald Reagan and British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher to promote their vision of individual freedom, free markets and political democracy. The IDU delegation includes 142 representatives of center-right parties from 38 countries.

Gruevski’s visit to the RNC is not his first contact with Minnesota. In 2005, two Minnesotans — Eric Hoplin, then national chair of the College Republicans, and Chris Tiedeman, a former Minnesota CR chair — traveled to Macedonia to help the VMRO-DPMNE prepare for upcoming elections. They taught the nuts and bolts of campaigning, from how to make a flier and organize a news conference to how to raise funds and get out the vote.

Gruevski and his party have learned the lessons of democracy building well. After he became prime minister in 2006, Gruevski worked to open his nation’s economy and end corruption. His party won re-election by a landslide in 2008, and he now has the highest approval rating of any European leader.

At the RNC, Gruevski has enjoyed the seminars with GOP strategists. He’s also relished his encounters with ordinary Minnesotans — like the earful he got from his cab-driver, a fervent Obama supporter. Gruevski is also wide-eyed at the weirder aspects of convention garb, such as the hockey jerseys that the Michigan delegation sported the night Sarah Palin was nominated.

Years ago, Gruevski’s grandmother warned him never to get involved in politics, because he would be thrown into prison. He says the most extraordinary thing at the RNC is the chance “to observe at work the democracy that Americans take for granted.”

A national political convention is about four things — the nominee’s coronation ceremony, parties, speeches, and protests. That covers about 99.5 percent of what you’ll see reported in the media.

All these things are highly staged. Even the protests are carefully choreographed for the TV cameras waiting at every corner.

But if you’re willing to crawl out of bed early, you’ll discover a less scripted side of the convention — along with a boisterous debate.

When I dropped in on two morning policy forums Wednesday, the ideas I heard were far from a rehash of the party platform.

At a forum on retirement security, for example, comedian and economist Ben Stein outlined the challenge posed by “77 million baby boomers racing to retirement, 40 percent with no savings at all.”

Stein was a gutsy choice as emcee. Last month in the New York Times he called for raising taxes — a heresy at a Republican convention. Other panelists included a representative of AARP — hardly a Republican stronghold — and Rep. Paul Ryan of Wisconsin, who laid out a bold plan to keep entitlement spending from bankrupting the country.

The audience was eager to hear conflicting views. “We’re paying our own way to be here, like the other delegates,” said Aaron Hood of Texas. “We’re kissing a week of vacation good-bye.”

Hood wants new ideas, he says, not just parties and networking.

John Iorio, a College Republican from Washington D.C. agrees.

So far at the convention, he says, he has volunteered to fill relief bags for Hurricane Gustav’s victims, taken a paddle-boat ride, seen Fox News star Sean Hannity, and shaken John McCain’s hand.

Merrymaking

On Monday night, he and his friends partied until 4:00 a.m., and they called it quits at 1:30 a.m. Wednesday morning.

But Iorio says that late-night merrymaking won’t stop them from lapping up all the new ideas they can.

At the retirement security breakfast, for example, he learned a lot — from the dizzying size of the monthly sum that the United States is spending on foreign oil to the details of Ryan’s innovative plan to keep Social Security solvent.

Meanwhile, at an energy and commerce forum down the hall, the pro-drilling crowd is ready to bore through the floor of the conference room if there’s a chance to find oil there.

But the discussion ranges far beyond the need for more oil. The audience hears about cars that run on natural gas. They also hear about methane hydrates — energy trapped in under-water ice and elsewhere, which may prove an important future source of fuel.

Tonight, you’ll hear lots of speeches in the prime-time convention lineup.

But remember that the ideas you hear in prime-time coverage at the GOP convention in 2012 may have first gotten a hearing over morning coffee here.

You know it’s not politics-as-usual when you’re attending a meeting of the nation’s governors and one of them goes into labor. When — just a few months later — that new mother is preparing to speak to the Republican National Convention as the party’s vice-presidential candidate, you know that politics-as-usual is gone for good.

We’ve heard a lot about Sarah Palin, the governor of our 49th state, whose acceptance speech is expected tonight. But we are likely less familiar with the Republican woman governor of our 50th state — Linda Lingle of Hawaii — who was with Palin when the Alaskan discovered it was time to get to the hospital.

“We were at a national governors meeting on energy in Dallas when Sarah went into labor,” said Lingle. “She handled it remarkably, and it’s a great example of her talents and toughness. After the keynote speaker canceled at the last minute, Sarah stepped in. She gave an outstanding address on strategic energy policy. Then she boarded a plane back to Alaska to deliver.”

Though Lingle didn’t know it, Palin was aware this delivery would be different from her others. She would give birth to little Trig, who has Down syndrome. Palin’s decision to give Trig life has become a rallying cry for social conservatives.

Lingle and Palin have shared more than this poignant moment. They have both built political careers fighting corruption, sometimes bucking their own party. Both were first mayors, then governors. “Small cities and states are often the toughest places to be CEO,” said Lingle. “There’s constant accountability, and nowhere to hide.”

Lingle’s political career, like Palin’s, has been a string of firsts. She’s the first woman and the first Jewish person to be governor of Hawaii, as well as the state’s first Republican governor in almost 50 years.

In 2006, Lingle won reelection by the largest margin in any gubernatorial race in Hawaiian history — 63 to 35 percent. Palin is also popular in her home state, with an approval rating of 80 percent.

Though Democrats often use the rhetoric of “women’s issues,” Lingle sees the Republican Party as American women’s natural political home. On issues such as national security and the economy, GOP positions resonate with many women, she says.

Yet the Republican Big Tent offers room for diversity of opinion, Lingle said. On abortion, Palin is prolife, while Lingle is prochoice, although she favors parental consent and a ban on a type of late-term abortion.

The two governors also differ in their approach to energy. Palin emphasizes drilling for more oil, while Lingle places more weight on renewable energy sources. “There’s room for both of us in leadership roles in the Republican Party,” said Lingle.

The Republican convention has drawn a broad array of women. Tonight, two of the nation’s most innovative business leaders will take the podium: Carly Fiorina, Hewlett-Packard’s former CEO, and Meg Whitman, the former president of eBay.

When Palin was introduced to the American people, she said: “Hillary left 18 million cracks in the highest, hardest glass ceiling in America, but it turns out the women of America aren’t finished yet, and we can shatter that glass ceiling once and for all.”

We might be surprised at which political party finally breaks through.

Is Hurricane Gustav, which was lashing Louisiana on Monday, a threat to the Republican Party and its vision of limited government? According to conventional wisdom, disasters like Katrina and Gustav demand the big-government solutions that Democrats favor.

But don’t try that line on the Louisiana delegates assembled in St. Paul this week. They’ll tell you that conservative ideas are not only rebuilding Louisiana, but ensuring that the state is in far better condition than before Katrina hit.

The people of Louisiana are fed up with the institutions that failed them so miserably during the Katrina disaster, says Scott Wilfong, a delegate from Baton Rouge.

“For so long, our state has been near the bottom of the list in everything good — like educational excellence and business opportunity — and at the top in everything bad, like corruption and poverty,” he explains. “People are tired of the old model, of being the nation’s laughingstock.”

Today, Louisiana’s dynamic new governor, Bobby Jindal, a 37-year-old Republican, is meeting the state’s many challenges head-on. Jindal took office in January with a powerful mandate for reform.

One of his first acts was to call a special legislative session to tackle Louisiana’s deep-rooted culture of government corruption. Under Jindal’s leadership, the Legislature passed a groundbreaking ethics law, which the Washington-based Center for Public Integrity has described as the strongest in the country.

“There’s an old saying in Louisiana — ‘You can get any legislator to vote for anything if you buy him a big enough steak,’” says Wilfong, who ticks off a long list of former officials now in federal prison. “But after this law, you can’t get a seat on, say, the levee board by making a political contribution.”

Jindal also moved quickly to put the state’s fiscal house in order. He balanced the budget — making liberal use of his veto pen — and imposed a state hiring freeze.

Jindal presided over a personal income tax cut that he has described as the largest in Louisiana’s history. He also enhanced the state’s economic competitiveness by cutting business taxes and bureaucratic paperwork.

“In the past, Mama might be thinking of opening a sewing factory, but when she finds out what she’s got to do, she says, ‘Ridiculous,’” explains former Gov. Buddy Roemer, a member of the Louisiana delegation. Thanks to Jindal’s reforms, those days are gone, Roemer says.

Partly in response to these new policies, Forbes magazine recently increased Louisiana’s growth-prospects rank from 45th in the nation to 17th, and the state’s unemployment rate is going down.

Reform has been particularly dramatic in education, a trend already underway when Jindal came to office. In 2005, Louisiana’s public schools were between 43rd and 46th in federal government rankings. Today, New Orleans children benefit from school choice, charters and vouchers. Louisiana boasts “an educational landscape unlike any other, a radical experiment in reform,” wrote the New York Times.

These advances, and others like them, are the product of a shift in mindset from dependence to personal responsibility, says Roemer. He links it directly to Katrina:

“This is a sea change for folks with the old Mardi Gras mentality — ‘Hey, mister, give me some money.’ Today, it’s no longer fashionable to have your hand out. It’s fashionable to roll up your sleeves and work.”