The mystery of the tartans has been solved, sort of.

Along L-A roads during election season, someone strung pieces of tartan cloth between two wooden posts, in the same dimensions as a political sign. Nobody knew who. We published pleas for information. Nobody spoke up.

Until now, sort of.

The tartans, we gather, supported Scotsman Corey Troup, the Republican candidate for Senate from Lewiston who was stomped by a 50-point margin by Margaret Craven on Election Day. That result was no “luck of the Irish.”

Craven, born in Ireland, kicked Troup right in the kilt.

Hence the tartans. Troup, in a coy response about the signs, said he could not comment, but mentioned his kilt ownership (daggers and all), appearances at the Highland Games and parents’ dual U.K. citizenship.

His parents also have property on the Isle of Man, he said, from which he’s gazed the rocky shoreline of Craven’s old sod. Everyone who knows him, he added, knows how deeply proud he is about his Scottish heritage.

So at least somebody did.

Looking at Troup’s campaign Web site, the only tacit connection to Scotland is under “favorite movies,” where he lists the epic Braveheart. It’s a bit of a leap from there to roadside tartans.

Especially when campaign signs are to, you know, campaign. Or, at least, get your name out there. Troup’s mysterious tartans – though maybe a clever inside joke – were a failure on both fronts.

Then again, so were most Republican strategies in this election. Scott Lansley, head of the Androscoggin County Republican Committee, described the results as “getting our asses kicked.”

Having the senatorial candidate for Lewiston stringing tartans between posts sure didn’t help. Or traipsing another sideshow – Prof. John Frary – out across the stump in a vainglorious attempt to unseat Rep. Mike Michaud.

I’ve been known to say politics is theater. But I never thought this would be taken literally by candidates, who viewed campaigns as the stage and themselves as actors upon it, instead of as people striving to represent the people, their political party and its ideals. If the candidates don’t take their effort seriously, why should voters?

No need to answer. It’s a rhetorical question.

Post-Nov. 4, Republicans across the country are trying to find renewal of purpose.

In Maine, the GOP not only needs an ideological groove, but also candidates who give a damn about winning elections, not tartans and the “Frary Home Companion.”

But right now, they’re too busy beating each other up. The must-read conservative forum AsMaineGoes.com has been the scene of clashes between leading Maine conservatives, which has caused broad liberal schadenfraude.

Lansley, whose prior legislative district in Sabattus also turned blue on him, is aware of the ideological divide. He views himself as a traditional conservative, and feels the party, most of all, needs a return to its roots.

“There has to be a difference between the parties,” says Lansley, who’s running for the state party chairmanship, to be decided in January. He says there’s a need to expand beyond the model of the “Susan Collins Republican.”

Whether this assessment is right, given Collins won re-election by an almost Craven-over-Troup margin, remains to be seen. Then again, this party did tap Mitt Romney as its choice in the caucuses. (Figure that one out.)

What is clear is the GOP needs something.

Usually, when an oppressed group reaches its bleakest hour, an unsung hero emerges to lead them to victory. The person has the perfect blend of ability and charisma, and turns malaise into magnificence.

On the national level, pundits point to Gov. Sarah Palin or Gov. Bobby Jindal of Louisiana as the GOP saviors. Neither seems seasoned enough right now, but that’s what the four years until 2012 are there for.

Maine’s GOP has, at least, had some success – see Collins and Sen. Olympia Snowe – but the Republican Party as a whole has lost its identity along the way, nevertheless.

Its troops are disillusioned and leadership is missing. Who will step up?

The last thing the GOP needs are more members who toss up some Scottish tartans and call it a campaign.

Who it needs, instead, is Braveheart.

Anthony Ronzio is the Editorial Page Editor for the Sun Journal. He can be reached at [email protected], or 1-800-782-0759, ext. 2285.