The show ain't over until the fat woman exercises her vocal chords but, whatever happens in the assembly elections, last Saturday was the day the SDLP had dreamed about since its foundation. It was the culmination of decades of work, usually against a background of violence and despair, to advance party leader John Hume's vision of a society where both communities could live together in peace and harmony, spilling their sweat instead of their blood.
The phraseology is Hume's. None of your new-fangled pedagogical theories; the former Derry schoolteacher believes the best way to instill knowledge is to repeat your message until even the most woebegone, ink-stained brat at the back of the class understands it.
For 30 years now, the people of Northern Ireland and the rest of the world, whenever it tuned in, have been listening to the SDLP leader's homilies, hardly ever changing in their rhythm, emphasis and content. His basic message: it's not a question of uniting the territory, we must unite the people; look at how the European Union ended decades of war between France and Germany, let's take a similar approach; violence achieves nothing, we must work together for the common good to end the divisions in our society, attracting foreign investment and creating peace and prosperity for all.
Reporters, feeling they could recycle last year's notes, make little jokes about "Humespeak", sigh over his rumpled suits and grin at his obvious delight in the honours bestowed by a grateful world. Even the SDLP leader himself is reported to have responded to a journalist's question with the quip, "Do you want the single transferable speech?"
But even the most impatient and cynical interviewer would never laugh in John Hume's face. The reason is that even the hacks concede the man has paid his dues. The worst time of all, and the low point of his political career, came after it was revealed that he had entered into dialogue with Gerry Adams. Hitherto revered, almost to the point of idolatry in the Republic, Hume became the target of vicious verbal sniping from elements of the media. After years of uncritical coverage, the SDLP leader suddenly found himself demonised. It was even reported that loyalist paramilitaries, sensing John Hume's isolation, took steps to have him assassinated. Hume had taken the biggest risk of his life. In the eyes of his critics he was supping with the devil. Even within his own party there was deep unease. Did John know what he was doing? But he refused to deviate from his chosen path. The logic was simple: the republican movement could not be defeated, it must be weaned away from violence. People like Adams and McGuinness are looking for a way out and they must be thrown a political lifeline.
Now, with most republicans and loyalists maintaining a ceasefire, a multi-party agreement concluded at Stormont and an all-island plebiscite calling for peace, even many of John Hume's critics have changed their minds about the man.
But if John Hume proposed, Seamus Mallon disposed. Hume was the architect who laid out the grand philosophical plan: the three strands, inclusive negotiations involving republicans and loyalists provided they had called ceasefires, the two referendums intended to supersede the 1918 election and the central role of the British and Irish governments.
Seamus Mallon's job was to turn theory into reality, with party colleagues Mark Durkan and Sean Farren among his principal lieutenants. The dogs in the street know that Mallon and Hume are not bosom buddies but on this occasion they turned out to be the perfect double-act. Hume kept the republicans on board while Mallon talked hard practicalities with the unionists. Hard decisions had to be taken to reach the final agreement. There was a bad moment just before Christmas when Seamus Mallon agreed with David Trimble that a Northern Ireland Assembly should be on the agenda. Martin McGuinness reacted angrily; Dublin, anxious to avoid a Sinn Fein walkout, sat on its hands; the plan was dropped. But the unmentionable had been mentioned and soon after the resumption in January we saw the Propositions on Heads of Agreement document, outlining the basis for a settlement in skeletal form. Sinn Fein, both leadership and grass-roots, reacted angrily and their ire was compounded by the resumption of loyalist sectarian assassinations after the Billy Wright killing.
Republicans particularly resented Mallon's role and there were charges that the Hume-Adams process had now been superseded by "Mallon-Trimble". But the SDLP had decided you couldn't make an omelette without breaking eggs and Hume gave Mallon his full public support.
Perhaps the most difficult week for the SDLP was at Dublin Castle when the party was forced to maintain a near-monastic silence while Sinn Fein was indicted over the renewal of IRA killings. The SDLP took the view that failing to expel Sinn Fein would have meant the immediate and final departure of the unionists and the collapse of the talks. But what was meant to be a constructive week of negotiations turned into a media circus. There was still a lot of unfinished business between the SDLP and David Trimble, notably on the issue of a cabinet-style administration in Northern Ireland. That was resolved only at the very end, in the small hours of Good Friday morning at Stormont's Castle Buildings. Here Mallon played a central role and, when the deal was finally done, one participant said it was like hearing that click which tells you the combination lock is open. One observer has compared John Hume and Seamus Mallon to a pair of tugboats, separately pulling the republican and unionist ships into port. There are alternative perspectives on the peace process: republicans believe they played the dynamic role; unionists claim to have secured the Union with great skill and diplomacy; the Alliance Party believes people are at last coming round to its centrist approach.
But nobody can dispute that Hume, having decided republicans could be brought into normal democratic politics, stuck to that policy with single-minded obduracy and disregard for the risks, both political and personal. Opponents such as Mr Robert McCartney claim this was a corruption of the democratic process but the majority, North and South, are clearly convinced the strategy can work. The coming elections could still spell the doom of this process but Hume, Mallon and the rest of the SDLP must feel well-satisfied with their work up to now.