ANOTHER bomb, another small and very uncertain step in the political process. Is this really the message we have to take from last week's IRA attack on the British army's headquarters at Lisburn, that politicians move only in response to acts of violence? It is beginning to seem that way.
The British government, in a flurry of activity - after the bomb at Canary Wharf, announced a date for all party talks. Now, after weeks of wrangling, the Ulster Unionist Party finds that it is possible to come up with a fudge on the issue of decommissioning paramilitary weapons.
If they had agreed to this much earlier, it just [might have enabled Gerry Adams to persuade the IRA to call a ceasefire. So, why now?
The answer was palpably clear at the Northern Ireland Forum last Friday morning. The SDLP has withdrawn from the forum, and Sinn Fein boycotted its proceedings from the start, so the tone of its discussions is now overwhelmingly unionist.
On Friday morning, there was an emergency debate on the Lisburn bomb. There were, naturally enough, outraged condemnations of the attack, sympathy for the family of the dead soldier and for all those who had been injured. But there was also a quite striking sense of political relief.
Most unionists believe that the IRA's attack has shifted the balance of the argument significantly, perhaps even decisively, in their favour. Speaker after speaker made the point that the Lisburn bomb had placed Sinn Fein firmly beyond the pale and that there could be no question of bringing the party into talks, even if the IRA were to call a new ceasefire.
The British government appears to endorse their view. The normally conciliatory Michael Ancram was reported last week as saying that the IRA had "in the most violent and murderous way" excluded Sinn Fein from the talks process.
In this context the issue of decommissioning has come to seem almost academic. Instead, the unionist emphasis has shifted to asking what would constitute a "real", credible ceasefire. In the next few weeks we can expect to hear demands for the British government to make clear that there will have to be a "decontamination" period, and for John Major to lay down a series of "benchmarks" to test any new IRA ceasefire.
These would include guarantees that the IRA had stopped targeting possible victims, moving and storing weapons, etc. All very desirable objectives, of course, if there was the remotest possibility of achieving them. The danger, as with decommissioning, is that such demands will simply hamper those who are trying to get a new ceasefire, because they will be seen by the republican movement as more obstacles to Sinn Fein's entry into talks.
ANY dialogue which enables old political adversaries like the UUP and the SDLP to discuss the issues that divide them in a more constructive way is, of course, to be welcomed. As Seamus Mallon put it, rather poignantly, this week's tentative breakthrough on the decommissioning issue could have a "symbolic and psychological impact on the process and the participants".
We have all been in situations where resolving a dispute with a particularly difficult opponent has brought a sense of euphoria and a determination to try and manage the relationship better in future.
In this particular case there is one obvious political benefit. The fudge on decommissioning will help to secure the position of the fringe loyalist parties in the talks. Up to now they have been emphatic that there is absolutely no question of the UVF or the UDA handing over weapons as long as the IRA retains its armoury. Now, by shifting the emphasis away from decommissioning, it has become possible to argue that the loyalist groups have proved their commitment to peaceful methods.
We will know better after next weekend's Ulster Unionist Party conference whether David Trimble's strategy is to move the whole situation back to the Brooke talks of 1992, thus intensifying the pressure on the SDLP to abandon any hopes, of drawing Sinn Fein into the political process. If so, what will this mean for the Irish Government and for its long term strategy?
Increasingly the case has been made that if the IRA either cannot or will not call a ceasefire, then abandoning Sinn Fein is the only way forward. A variation of the argument goes like this. If only the talks are seen to make progress, some politicians argue, it will provide an incentive to the IRA to call a ceasefire to enable Sinn Fein to join them. In Belfast last week people cited how in South Africa the parties had joined the talks process when it became clear that, if they did not, "the train would leave the station and move on without them".
With this column hope springs eternal and there is, I suppose, a chance of this happening. But it seems at least as likely that the talk of exclusion, of setting a decontamination period for Sinn Fein and impossible tests for a ceasefire, will drive the whole republican movement back into the political and psychological ghetto of its past.
Last week one Sinn Fein source said there was still hope of getting a new ceasefire, "as long as the campaign is not up and running." But every new speech which seeks to define Mr Adams and those close to him as moral and political pariahs increases the chance of that happening.
The danger is that we will descend into a new spiral of violence and a response by the security forces which will draw the support of the nationalist ghettos back to the IRA. This is not how people feel at the moment. A poll published in the Irish News last week showed that an overwhelming majority of its mainly nationalist readers thought the IRA should call a new ceasefire.
WE are right back to the question which dominated the agenda before John Hume and Gerry Adams set in train the initiative which led to the first
IRA ceasefire. Is it possible to achieve a lasting settlement in Northern Ireland which excludes the extremists? The Lisburn bomb has shifted the weight of the argument back towards those who believe that this is the only way forward.
But the past experience in the North has shown us that even if it is possible for the constitutional parties to reach some reasonable accommodation - and the only example of this happening was the power sharing executive of 1974 - those who are excluded retain the power to destroy it.
Last week in Belfast the atmosphere was one of almost determined and touching normality. Outside the Virgin Megastore in Royal Avenue young fans wrapped themselves in blankets to queue overnight for tickets for Boyzone's concert in December. The idea that, by then, it might not be safe to be out in the city late at night never entered their minds.
Let us hope that their confidence that peace is here to stay proves well founded.