A friend from a unionist background suggested that since last year's pact was popularly known as the Good Friday Agreement, the document released by Mr Tony Blair and Mr Bertie Ahern yesterday should be termed the Maundy Thursday Declaration. I had to point out with regret that, to many people on the island whose religion is Catholic, Maundy Thursday would be meaningless, as they generally call it Holy Thursday.
If only all differences between the two traditions were of a minor linguistic nature. Too often, the task of reconciliation is like squaring a circle. Yesterday, the two prime ministers tried their best to do that and, while some progress was made, there are still doubts and loose ends.
Historians may come to see it as a confrontation between constitutional and revolutionary nationalism: a more decorous and polite version of what happened in the 1920s when physical-force republicanism was faced down by those who favoured a quieter and more gradual approach to achieving their aims.
There have been unconfirmed reports of shouting matches between Sinn Fein delegates on the one hand and representatives of the Irish Government and the SDLP on the other. While that does not sound like the Gerry Adams way of doing business, it is entirely plausible that there was tension, especially between the Government and the republicans.
Privately, republicans are bitter about what they saw as the support given by the Taoiseach to the unionist line on decommissioning. At the press conference in Hillsborough the Sinn Fein group was remarkably composed under the circumstances and Mr Adams even made a jocular reference to Martin McGuinness becoming a grandfather. But their faces told a different story and behind the scenes senior republicans are mad as hell.
The aforementioned historians may well describe yesterday's events as the biggest gamble of Bertie Ahern's political career. If his predecessor, John Bruton, had taken the same political risk, Sinn Fein members - and many in Fianna Fail - would have said, as they did at various times when the Fine Gael leader was in office: "What would you expect? - the man has no `feel' for where the Provos are coming from."
There have been many painful moments in the relationship between Fianna Fail and the republican movement down through the decades - the cruel and inhumane executions of the war years come to mind. Yesterday was one of the most painful of all in modern times. The Northern poet, Tom Paulin, has described the impact of the 1985 Anglo-Irish Agreement on unionists as "the defenestration of Hillsborough", comparing it to the involuntary death-leap of a leading Czech politician, which is blamed on the Communists. After the last few days, Sinn Fein will know how the unionists felt.
And yet, when the dust settles, the fallout may not be as bad as republicans feared.
In the first place, the final text has not been completed. Secondly, there may be enough flexibility in formulations about putting weapons "beyond use" to allow face to be saved. Thirdly, while dealing with the weapons in some form is essential it has now become an "obligation" rather than a "precondition": ministers will be named, but the question of guns must be got around before they assume office. The type of ingenuity displayed by Eamon de Valera when he overcame the obstacle of the oath of allegiance to the crown as a precondition to entering Dail Eireann comes to mind.
One would not wish to be Mr Adams at the moment: he seemed to have added a grey hair or two at the Hillsborough press conference. He has the enormously difficult task of trying to (a) take some of the sting out of the working draft and (b) explaining to his followers that it "will be all right on the night".
The mood at Hillsborough was not unlike the day the propositions document was issued last year at Castle Buildings during the multi-party talks. That was when the constitutional nationalists finally grasped the nettle and declared that, yes, there would be a Northern Ireland Assembly and Sinn Fein's opposition was overridden.
That was seen as an essential move to keep the unionists in the process. The Hillsborough Declaration will be defended on the grounds that it was the only way to get David Trimble into government with Sinn Fein without ensuring his political destruction.
Privately, unionists were feeling very pleased with the result on the day but managed to maintain some reserve in public. The delay between now and April 13th was unfortunate from Mr Trimble's point of view because it will allow the seeds of doubt to grow in the unionist family. Like the propositions document, yesterday was not as complete a victory for unionists or as grave a defeat for republicans as it initially appeared to be.
Over now to the IRA. It is a dangerous moment because there is an argument that it has been well and truly snookered. At its back it hears the growing clamour from the republican grassroots over the killing of Rosemary Nelson and the continuing attacks on nationalists in their homes. In front of it is the demand to dispose of weapons as the price of Sinn Fein's political advance. The peace process was about revolutionary nationalism linking up with the constitutional tradition and, as many critics pointed out, the initial gains seemed to be mainly on the republican side. Now, the balance is being restored. Constitutional norms are in the process of being imposed on republicans. Many of them will not like it: at the very least one can see dissident groups gaining fresh recruits.
A senior SDLP source commented that the republicans thought they would be able to get into government without disposing of a single weapon or pound of Semtex. The lesson of the last few days, however, is that there's no free lunch.