Late-night call restores hope after a day of highs and lows

AS the sun went down over London last night the air was once again fitted with optimism

AS the sun went down over London last night the air was once again fitted with optimism. It had shone brightly on London on the second day of President Robinson's official visit to Britain. And it seemed her visit would provide a fitting backdrop to Anglo-Irish accord on the arrangements and agenda for the all party negotiations in the North due to begin next Monday.

Mrs Robinson was due at Downing Street for lunch with the Prime Minister, Mr John Major. The Ulster Unionist leader, Mr David Trimble, would be there alongside Cardinal Daly and others.

And, as if the day was not already rich in symbolism, news emerged that Mr Trimble had had a secret meeting with the Taoiseach, Mr Bruton.

En route from Germany, the Taoiseach made a diversion to central London to meet Mr Trimble at the home of a senior Irish official.

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It seemed the Tanaiste's optimism had been justified after all. After more than four hours of talks with Sir Patrick Mayhew, the Northern Secretary, on Tuesday night, Mr Spring had suggested outstanding matters could be concluded very quickly.

The sense was of a deal merely awaiting the seal of prime ministerial approval. Indeed, some press reports yesterday had the deal already done.

The phone call between Mr Major and Mr Bruton was expected before the Downing Street lunch. And it would be followed in the afternoon by a press conference at which Mr Spring and Sir Patrick would unveil the detailed plan to be followed next Monday and thereafter.

It would be a substantive announcement, dealing with all the issues which had dominated press speculation over the preceding weeks decommissioning, the chairmanships of the various strands, and the precise role of former US senator, Mr George Mitchell, as "talks supremo".

Then the slippage started. Scheduling problems and that lunch meant the prime ministerial call would not be until 3 p.m. at the earliest. But there was no indication of official alarm. The press conference would simply be chat much later.

But by 3 p.m., the guidance was changing fast. The call was going to be later. Sir Patrick and Mr Spring certainly were going to the Guildhall for the dinner for Mrs Robinson. The logistics transatlantic calls, consultation with putative chairmen, preparation of the package of up to three documents, and the round of media interviews pointed to an announcement being put off until today.

And "no, there was no crisis".

Just scheduling and logistical difficulties. And that was the advice from British and Irish sources alike.

That message, too, changed swiftly. By 4p.m., word was breaking that Mr Bruton would not speak to Mr Major until he had consultations with the Cabinet.

Rumours fuelled by the Ulster Unionists swept Westminster suggesting the Irish delegation had actually walked out of their meeting with British officials earlier in the day.

Then came word of the IRA statement. And by tea time, Irish sources were offering a revised version of events. "It certainly is a mess, and it certainly is serious", said one.

"The mess" allegedly resulted from an overnight change of heart on the part of the British, specifically about the definition of Mr Mitchell's role in the process.

The Irish side was apparently prepared to accept Gen John de Chastelain as chairman of the Strand 2 North/South talks (the British counter proposal) provided both sides were clear about Mr Mitchell's precise role as chairman of the plenary session, and about the nature and authority of the plenary itself in driving and directing the process.

In crude terms, Dublin had been anxious to ensure Mr Mitchell would be chairman of the over Ball process, and that his role would not be confined. Mr Trimble had publicly rehearsed his very different views.

And after a long day of diplomatic silence, the suggestion finally emerged that the British had unpicked "language" that the Irish thought had been agreed between Mr Spring and Sir Patrick on Tuesday night.

When the detail of the IRA statement emerged, the suspicion arose that Dublin might have consulted Sinn Fein overnight, discovered that the emerging package would not be sufficient to secure a ceasefire and, in turn, attempted to reopen the issue of decommissioning.

But such suspicion was sharply dismissed by an Irish source. "I am unaware that we sought to reopen anything. We told them we had language last night (Tuesday) with which we were perfectly happy."

By all accounts, the language had changed by the time the Irish team arrived for their 8 a.m. breakfast meeting with their British counterparts. By mid morning, according to accounts, the British appeared to be on a go slow.

The explanation, it appears, was that Mr Major was preparing an alternative paper on the role of the plenary and the chairmanship of the talks. At this stage, many observers were convinced that neither Senator Mitchell nor Sinn Fein will be at the conference table come Monday.

Mr Spring and Sir Patrick were both at the Guildhall dinner. But they apparently had no meetings in the course of the day. The appearance last night was of stand off.

We have, of course, been here before. Rabbits are miraculously pulled from hats in what has almost become the way of Anglo Irish negotiation.

And so, apparently, it proved last night. Mr Bruton and Mr Major finally made it to their respective telephones and the cautious word was that unity and harmony had been restored.

It could hardly be otherwise. For as one wise observer put it last night. "They either hang together or they will most assuredly hang apart."