There wasn't a DUP member or militant republican in sight as Tony Blair addressed the great and the good in Belfast, writes Suzanne Breen, Senior Northern Correspondent
Security in Northern Ireland is normally tight but it reached unprecedented levels in advance of Tony Blair's visit. Downing Street demanded a news black-out on his imminent arrival and threatened harsh measures against any disobedient journalist.
It wasn't republican or loyalist paramilitaries worrying the authorities but al-Qaeda, they confided. The thought of the Osama Bin Laden supporters making an appearance in Belfast city centre would certainly have shocked the great and the good who gathered to hear Mr Blair's keynote speech yesterday evening.
It was an invited, staunchly pro-agreement audience from the business and community sector which assembled in the opulent surroundings of the Harbour Commissioners' offices. There would be no heckling here. There wasn't a dissident republican or DUP member in sight.
The venue was fitting for the occasion with its chandeliers, gold mirrors, marble pillars and oil paintings. Eighteenth and 19th-century grandees looked down from the walls. Statutes of ladies in various states of undress decorated different corners.
The stringent security meant many guests didn't even know until they arrived what VIP was about to address them. So confusing had been the contact with John Gray, of the Linenhall Library, that he had initially thought the authorities wanted a VIP to visit his library. Mr Gray was disheartened by the political situation. "I feel like a drowning man clutching at straws," he said. Another guest feared government would suffer under a return to direct rule. "The new Arts Minister likes Coronation Street," he lamented. "But maybe that it is a perfect qualification for being in charge of culture in Northern Ireland."
Inez McCormack of the public sector workers' union, Unison, hoped there wouldn't just be rhetoric from Mr Blair but "something to encourage bread and butter ownership" of the Belfast Agreement.
Surveying the gathering for Mr Blair was Jim Deery, a community activist in the nationalist New Lodge Road. "It's like what Oscar Wilde said about going to the opera - 'it's full of people who don't like opera but think they ought to be there'," he said.
Mr Deery would have liked to talk to Mr Blair about life on the peace line in north Belfast, "but I'm too far down the pecking order to get the chance". He didn't think his community was that concerned about the current political crisis. "It's not a topic of conversation on the streets. People are just getting on with their lives and saying 'look at those eejits up at Stormont'."
Mr Blair's speech was passionately delivered. He stressed his was not an attitude of the "dreary steeples of Fermanagh and Tyrone". He had visited Northern Ireland more than any other British prime minister "because I value it as part of the UK".
The Provisional IRA and Sinn Féin had come a long way, he said. One of the "most abnormal parts of the continent of Europe, never mind the UK" was on its way to normalisation. Those prepared to die for a united Ireland had agreed to enter "a partitionist assembly". Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness were singled out for praise. But it was now crunch time, the British prime minister said.
The Provisional IRA could not remain "half in, half out" of the process. Its continuing existence was "an embarrassment" and an obstacle to change. Mr Blair was confident the process could be put back on track. It was in tune with the spirit of the age, he said, to ringing applause.