It is a well-known syndrome in a conflict that parties to the dispute always find it easier to have the enemies and allies arranged simply, on either side. In the conflict resolution trade, it is called the EST or enemy system theory.
But what is noticeable - and not always appreciated - about the Northern Ireland conflict is that it was always more like a three-way than a two-way affair of hate and need between the republicans, the unionists and the British.
Both republicans and unionists have fought for years to secure the attention of the British to their desires. In the case of the unionists, they sought reassurance that they would not be abandoned while republicans sought promises that they eventually would be.
In contrast to their fixation with the British, republicans have traditionally bothered very little with the unionists, whom they felt to be malleable to the will of the British. This has always disconcerted unionists and loyalists, who have frequently said they felt they were treated as second-class players by the republicans, hardly worthy of engagement either on the political, cultural or even at times on the military level.
It was strange, during some research that I did, to hear complaints by loyalists about not being deemed worthy targets by republicans.
For their part, and specifically since the Coleraine speech by Sir Patrick Mayhew in December 1992, the British government has said it was happy almost whichever way the local parties wanted to play it, provided they agreed.
With no party constraints, Tony Blair has set about showing his detachment from any particular solution. Watching his increasingly desperate efforts of the last few weeks, it must have been evident, even to republicans, that he was happy to settle for anything legal in the way of an agreed settlement.
But for republicans now to believe that perhaps the British are no longer the enemy will inevitably be disconcerting. But if not the British, who now are the adversaries? Republicans have always eschewed the idea of a sectarian enemy and have adamantly refused to countenance the idea that theirs was a sectarian war. If they must turn - as they inevitably find they must - to face and engage with their unionist neighbours, what countenance should they bring to such an encounter? Anger? Threat? Pleading?
At one point in the process, Gerry Adams offered to try and persuade the unionists of his party's good intentions in trying to achieve decommissioning. If the meeting had happened, would he have succeeded? And, within the confines of the four walls, what arguments would he have used and what pleadings would he have brought? Would he have trusted them with the truth?
Who knows, because the meeting never happened. But what was important was that it was an acknowledgment by Sinn Fein that the people they really need to persuade on how best to share this island, or at least the northern part of it, are their neighbours, the unionists.
David Trimble made a similar gesture of refocusing on Thursday just before he entered the seclusion of Glengall Street, where he and his party were to ride the storm of the procedurally necessary but contextually bizarre triggering of the d'Hondt process.
David Trimble spoke directly, and with apparent sincerity, to Sinn Fein, asking it to accept that he and his party were genuine in being willing (although one suspects probably not actually wanting) to share power with them.
So whence the traditional, historical enemy system now? Creatively open for review? Or is that being too optimistic? And where does it leave us?
In trying to forward a conflict resolution process, rather than indulging in brinkmanship and poker games in which all the cards may fall, it is good textbook wisdom to recognise that enemies will need to take account of each other's problems of delivery, and help each other where possible in securing agreement from their respective constituencies.
Usually, this is agreed as an essential part of the process of resolving a conflict, but somehow this was obviously forgotten somewhere along the line in Northern Ireland, despite all the protestations about this being a conflict resolution process.
But it is now what the parties face.
Tony Blair has told the parties they must choose their own destiny, together. Basically, the next time they want to see the parties is with a joint agreement in hand on the way forward.
Such a development may not necessarily be unproductive. Whatever way an agreement is reached, and whatever agreement is reached, it will be up to Northern Ireland parties themselves to make this work. The very security that has been provided in the process up to now by the joint concern of the British and Irish governments may actually now prolong that process.
While Blair and Ahern remained as the ever-patient godfathers to the negotiations, the temptation was always going to remain that in the end it would be primarily up to them to soothe savage breasts, wipe away tears, coax with titbits of legalities, stroke any emergence of reasonableness, and above all pick up the pieces of failure.
Conflicts do not end, but they change. This conflict has now changed, and although some are already denying it, a new game is in place. The parties are now being forced to face up to each other, in all of their weaknesses, and yes, all of their strengths. Without the latter, they would not now be facing equal failure.
No doubt the process is a daunting one to them. No doubt one or both parties will be tempted to shun the task and resort yet again to government at a distance by various London-Dublin combinations for the foreseeable future.
But on the other hand they may just, over the coming months as disappointment and tempers cool, stubbornly face up to the new realities that face them, particularly the need to seriously ask themselves the question: who now are their enemies?
And, hopefully, not jump too quickly to their accustomed answers.
Mari Fitzduff is Professor of Conflict Studies and director of INCORE, a UN global Centre for Conflict Resolution at the University of Ulster
