Glasnost may have been all very well for those Russians but not for the current phase of the peace process. Hapless print and broadcast journalists are ekeing out their days in the car park of Stormont's Castle Buildings on a no-news starvation diet.
Where once there was a tent of Chipperfield proportions housing some of the most famous faces of the small screen, now there are only two tiny prefabs, four telephones and a row of portable toilets without any lighting.
Someone will some day write a thesis about the role of journalism in this phase of Northern Ireland's history which will test the current widespread belief that containing the media and providing minimal information is helping the negotiations.
Supporters of the media blackout acknowledge that it does not make journalists' lives any easier but claim it has contributed to the most serious engagement so far between the Ulster Unionists and Sinn Fein. An alternative viewpoint is that the UUP could not keep the "Shinners" at bay for much longer without causing the process to collapse.
Whatever the reason, there is no doubt that the relationship between the two parties has undergone a complete transformation.
Gone are the days when unionists fled in terror from the outstretched hands and ring-of-confidence grins of Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness. At times the chase descended into farce, as on the famous occasion when a unionist locked himself behind a door to avoid a conversation with the MP for West Belfast, provoking the latter to remark: "Now that's what I call a siege mentality."
All is changed, changed utterly. Reporters have gleaned that David and Martin (it's first-name terms, we hear) are getting on well but the Adams-Trimble relationship still has its rocky moments. While the unionists have defrosted, insiders report that Sinn Fein has also "lightened up", treating the unionists as political leaders in their own right rather than lackeys of British imperialism.
But the peace process needs more than sociability to succeed. The deal still has to be struck, the risks taken, the rank-and-file on both sides persuaded, placated and cajoled. The biggest risk, initially, has to be taken by Trimble.
He must make the first move: allowing an executive to be formed with Sinn Fein in the absence of "product", as the sack of rusty revolvers and package of Semtex was rather quaintly called.
Has the time come for the member for Upper Bann to tell his party: "Back me or sack me"? The truth always was that prior decommissioning was never going to happen, was not part of the Belfast Agreement and would be worthless in security terms even if it did. But the virus took hold and almost destroyed the peace process, creating at least as many problems for Trimble as it ever did for Adams.
Insofar as the shape of the deal can be discerned, it is that Sinn Fein will use its best efforts to bring about total decommissioning by the agreed deadline of May 2000, provided this is done in the context of implementing the agreement, the whole agreement and nothing but the agreement.
Penetrate the fog of Provo-speak and the bottom line is that Sinn Fein persuaded the IRA in the past to call two cease-fires and, in the right circumstances, could also persuade its military wing to deal with the weapons issue.
But any notion of IRA members "walking under the spear" and handing over their Kalashnikovs should be dismissed right away. Other approaches would be used. There was merit in the collective act of reconciliation proposed by Dublin officials at the Hillsborough talks, but at the time it was a bridge too far for critical republican and unionist constituencies.
The critical need at the moment is to create the context in which decommissioning, or whatever it is ultimately called, can take place. That means setting up the executive and, most importantly, the North-South bodies. These are the shield behind which republican leaders can take the risks which unionists and armchair pundits have demanded of them for the past four years.
When it is clear that a new day has dawned in Northern Ireland, with unionists and nationalists working together in a spirit of compromise and respect for each other's identities, then the paramilitaries will be obliged to ask themselves: "What are we for?"
The Northern Ireland Secretary yesterday berated a Sunday newspaper for accusing him of going soft on decommissioning. More accurate perhaps would be to say that he has taken a realistic approach to the issue. If the Provos are to be persuaded to study war no more they will have to see the deal which was struck on Good Friday being put into practice.
But Mr Mandelson also suggested that the paramilitaries could assist the process when he said: "The knowledge that the IRA itself was fully committed to the search for peace and will play its part would show that the Good Friday agreement is for real and going places." At the same time, Mr John Taylor - gone but not forgotten from the negotiations - wrote in the News Letter that any agreement in the review must be "underwritten and guaranteed by Provisional IRA".
Republican sources dismiss the prospect of an IRA statement: soft words that turneth away wrath are not P. O'Neill's forte. Sinn Fein, on the other hand, will say whatever is required, although that is not enough for unionists.
The more likely prospect is that Gen. de Chastelain's report may be the vehicle for conveying the reassurance to persuade unionists to complete the leap into the unknown begun on Good Friday last year.