Saturation publicity and a political leg-up in Northern Ireland would be a small price to pay for Sinn Fein's participation in the final stage of negotiations leading to a three-stranded political settlement.
That consideration was uppermost in the minds of the two governments last weekend as they prepared to remove Sinn Fein from the talks process at Dublin Castle.
There was no desire to see Sinn Fein excluded; the bona fides of Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness were still accepted, but the IRA's involvement in two murders had made it inevitable.
It was a case of providing a soft landing for Sinn Fein, in terms of early re-admittance to the talks and continuing access to ministers and officials. But the tattered remnants of the Mitchell Principles had to be defended by the governments, particularly in light of the UDP's exclusion, following the murder of Catholics by the UFF/ UDA, some weeks earlier.
Yesterday, the governments were brutally honest in their pragmatism: the weeks-long exclusion of Sinn Fein and the UDP was based purely on political considerations. The talks process was due to finish within six weeks and they wanted it to be as inclusive as possible. But that approach could not be sustained if the organisations linked to the parties engaged in further violence.
In particular, there had to be a "convincing demonstration in word and deed that a complete, unqualified and unequivocal IRA ceasefire is being fully and continuously observed". If that situation held, Sinn Fein could return to the talks on March 9th.
With those words, David Andrews and Mo Mowlam dumped on last week's statement from the Provisionals that "the IRA cessation of military operations remains intact". A cessation of "military operations" was clearly not enough. The murders of Brendan Campbell and of Robert Dougan - which the IRA had not denied - could not be overlooked. And the responsibility of the republican movement as a whole to honour the Mitchell Principles affirmed by Sinn Fein was being demanded. No more killings was the unequivocal message.
Mr Adams seemed to hear it. At his press conference, the Sinn Fein president railed against his party's exclusion from the talks process as unjust, unfair and disgraceful. But he also appealed for calm; said the build-up of security forces in nationalist areas was not required and asked that republican demonstrations should be conducted peacefully.
The response was straight out of Sinn Fein's revolutionary handbook: street demonstrations can be used to either defuse or ignite nationalist anger. And, on this occasion, the message appeared to be jaw-jaw, rather than war-war.
To emphasise the message, Mr Adams dipped into the terms of the party's exclusion from the talks, which provided for unspecified, on-going government contact with Sinn Fein. And he upped the ante. The Sinn Fein president demanded "urgent" meetings with Bertie Ahern and Tony Blair to discuss the crisis in the talks process.
It was the kind of spin-doctoring magic that had held the media in thrall for three days at Dublin Castle. Having fought for decades to defend and advance the fiction that Sinn Fein is a stand-alone party, with no organic links to the IRA, leaps of imagination come easy. And high-profile meetings with Mr Blair and Mr Ahern could fill a dangerous vacuum.
Last Monday, as the governments prepared a "softlee-softlee" approach to the temporary removal of Sinn Fein, they could hardly have anticipated the propaganda blitz republicans would unleash on the captive international media at Dublin Castle.
The groundwork of victimhood was laid from early on. Sinn Fein was being tried by a kangaroo court, assailed by a lynch mob of Ulster Unionists led by the British government and condemned on the basis of a spurious assessment from the RUC Chief Constable.
Day after day, as the "confidential" talks process ground on, the party's spokesmen visited the media centre in relays. First there was the "door-step" opportunity as Gerry Adams turned up for the talks. Then Mitchel McLaughlin upgraded the message for the midday news. Martin McGuinness freshened and expanded on developments for the afternoon bulletins. And Gerry Adams wound up the day's theatricals by being either "pissed off" or apologetic towards members of the press.
It wasn't confined to media massage. In terms of strategy and tactics, the other parties were left either silent or floundering. And when political stonewalling did not serve, the party reached for the law.
Given the imperative to keep the Northern Ireland talks process on track, they were allowed plenty of latitude. George Mitchell, as talks chairman, facilitated them with numerous adjournments and allowed time for their legal challenge. If Sinn Fein had problems about getting the "red card" in Dublin, then a Belfast location could be arranged.
There was no rush to judgment. Concerned about the possibility of street violence in the North, the governments pondered their determination for three days and waited for public opinion to absorb the inevitability of the outcome.
When the judgment came, it was measured and predictable. Sinn Fein would be out for three weeks, missing just two days of plenary session negotiations. It was a neat resolution. And it should work. Unless the IRA has been working to a different agenda.