Security is a word we associate with that warm feeling of being safe and protected from harm. To many Northern nationalists the term "security forces" has often seemed a misnomer, as the army and police appeared more threatening than protective at times. But yesterday it was the turn of the Protestant community to feel unprotected by "their" police officers and soldiers.
The British army and RUC presence in Portadown was staggering. The town was, in effect, under martial law. Even old hands had never seen anything quite like it in the North. The barricade at Drumcree itself was like old stills of the first World War, with barbed-wire fences and stretches of no man's land.
Orangemen ambled down to examine the medieval-style moat which had been made out of the modest stream beside the church. On a pile of mud from the excavations a lone Union flag fluttered. One brave soul ventured across the stream to hang the Red Hand of Ulster on the barbed wire; two others got through later, but were quickly arrested.
The main barrier outside the church was a formidable steel structure but it could have been removed in minutes by the two security force trucks parked behind it. There seemed to be virtually no way the Orangemen could break through the Drumcree wall: only political manoeuvring and/or a wave of protests the length and breadth of Northern Ireland could achieve that.
Nationalists on the Garvaghy Road were generally sceptical that Tony Blair, Mo Mowlam and Ronnie Flanagan would hold the line. Memories of 1996 remained vivid, when the authorities collapsed in the face of a near-insurrection in Northern Ireland. Nor have they forgotten last year, when no attempt at all was made to stop the parade.
Last night it remained an open question whether the Orangemen and their supporters could stage enough protests and disturbances throughout Northern Ireland to force the authorities to back down once more. One was reminded irresistibly of Little Rock, Arkansas, in the late 1950s when President Eisenhower sent in some 12,000 federal troops to enforce school desegregation.
It is understood from usually reliable sources that Mr Blair, though eager to uphold the ruling of the Parades Commission, is nevertheless under heavy pressure and the possibility of a retreat cannot totally be ruled out. He is also said to be disappointed with the performance of church leaders. The visiting Irish-American State Senator from California, Mr Tom Hayden, compared Mr Blair's position to that of President John F. Kennedy when he sent US marshals into the Deep South to enforce civil rights laws, despite heavy pressure from the Southern Democrats.
Mr Blair may well have decided that it is time to "break the cycle" once and for all. It is almost certainly the case that if the Orangemen lose this year's battle of Drumcree they will have little stomach for a return bout.
But there may still be a way to ensure there are neither winners nor losers. The Belfast Agreement showed that the most unlikely parties could agree on the political way forward. The same may be possible on the parades front. Because of his previous history of militant republicanism, the Orangemen say they cannot talk to the Garvaghy Road spokesman, Mr Breandan Mac Cionnaith. But having watched Mr Mac Cionnaith at close quarters this year and last one can only remark that they would be wasting their time talking to anyone else. He is everywhere, directing everything, guiding, instructing, talking to the media. Like him or loathe him, you could not slip a cigarette paper between this man and his supporters.
Tension may grow when the Parades Commission announces a fresh set of decisions on a range of other Orange marches today.
There was speculation that the Orangemen might engage in a unique form of "voluntary rerouting" by directing their traditional Twelfth of July parades to Drumcree. That would mean a build-up of 80,000 to 100,000 Orange Order members at the barricade.
Such an action, along with a programme of protest throughout Northern Ireland, could make the place ungovernable and force the authorities into a change of tack. Much will depend on the true state of mind of the Protestant community and whether the referendum result has any real meaning in the "parliament of the streets".
The uninvolved observer could only feel sympathy for both sides.
The Orangemen and the community to which they belong have suffered seismic shocks to their traditional value system and view of the world from the political and social changes caused by the inexorable advance of the nationalist population.
For their part, the residents of the Garvaghy Road have a feeling of being hemmed in and ghettoised. Unemployment and lack of opportunity are rife, and they feel physically threatened by the "other side", which now wants to march across their turf. It all gets back to security: it may still be possible to find a way of giving both sides that elusive sense of safety, well-being and confidence, but it looks increasingly as if some very hard choices will have to be made instead.