"THE politics of the last atrocity" was a phrase much favoured by commentators writing about Northern Ireland during the long years of violence before the IRA ceasefire.
It was used to warn politicians and others against the dangers of making decisions about policy in the wake of some terrible act of violence and scenes of grief and anger on the streets. The grief and anger are understandable.
Most of us experienced both emotions this week on hearing the IRA had murdered two policemen in Lurgan. But experience has also taught that hasty decisions in relation to Northern Ireland often have to be undone with great difficulty, and over time.
Don't misunderstand me. The last thing I want to do is minimise the horror of what happened in Lurgan on Monday. At a human level these killings have not only made widows of women and took fathers from children, but have added to a sense of foreboding in both communities. At a political level, they have induced something very close to despair in all those who had dared to hope that the arrival of new governments in London and Dublin would bring a new energy to the search for peace.
Like most people who have reported on Northern Ireland for many years, what I remember most vividly are not the details of political initiatives or frameworks for change, but the faces of those walking behind the coffins at funerals women weeping uncontrollably, bewilderment in the eyes of children. Recent weeks have brought new images of grief, and they are all the more heartbreaking because we had hoped these terrible, unnatural scenes were in the past.
Whether the pictures come from Northern Ireland, Israel or Bosnia, they offer the same harsh lesson - peace does not come dropping easy and slow to people of moderation and goodwill. It has to be worked for and, if necessary, the boulder has to be pushed to the top of the mountain again and again.
It was predictable that Tony Blair's reaction to the IRA's murder of two policemen would be one of great anger. The new British Prime Minister had already shown courage in allowing official contacts with Sinn Fein prior to a new ceasefire, as long as conditions on the ground permitted.
Mr Blair is unfamiliar with the dreary political landscape of Northern Ireland and expects a return for his efforts. He clearly felt outraged by the Lurgan killings and reacted by ruling out further meetings. But it is hard to see what purpose this serves, particularly when the British government is reported to have sent a position paper to Sinn Fein laying out the terms for the party's entry into talks.
SINN Fein will respond to the paper, but this will now have to be done through intermediaries rather than face to face. This will not only provoke Unionist suspicions that secret negotiations are going on, but will also increase the risk, always great, of misunderstanding between London and Sinn Fein. The alternative is that, sooner or later, the ban will be lifted. This will be seen as further evidence of British capitulation to the Provos.
One suspects that if the decision had been left to the Northern Ireland Secretary, Dr Mo Mowlam, she would have found some way of delaying a decision while making it clear that she had serious questions to put to Sinn Fein.
Whatever about Tony Blair's reaction to the Lurgan killings, it is regrettable that John Bruton should have used one of his last public appearances on the international stage as Taoiseach to put pressure on his successor in relation to the North.
There is a growing consensus that Bertie Ahern - is now unlikely to meet Gerry Adams before the Dail reconvenes next week. But we are at a point where, arguably, it is more important than ever for officials to meet Sinn Fein leaders in order to get straight answers about the Republican movement's strategy, whether it remains committed to restoring the ceasefire and, as important, whether this can be delivered.
The Lurgan killings - their timing in the run up to Drumcree and their geographical location near the heartland of loyalism - have exacerbated suspicions, even among those who have been most supportive of the Hume/Adams project, about the IRA's long term intentions. There have always been those within the organisation who disapproved of the whole peace process and went along with it very reluctantly. According to some sources, these have now been joined by a substantial group which has no confidence that the British will ever stand up to the unionists on issues like decommissioning, let alone the more thorny problems which are likely to surface if and when real talks start.
There are also questions to be asked about the political fallout from the elections, North and South, and what the implications are of Sinn Fein's successes. Those who favour a decisive move away from violence and into democratic politics argue that Sinn Fein has achieved more through the ballot box than the IRA has done in almost 30 years. Others say voters on both sides of the Border do not seem to have been deterred by the continuing violence and see no reason to drop it.
In public, Adams and McGuinness continue to parrot the repulsive gobbledegook that Sinn Fein is an independent political party and not answerable for the IRA. But in private discussions with government officials, they must have more direct answers to give about the relationship with the IRA and their own ability to speak for it.
What has to be made clear now, if it has not already, is that an unequivocal renunciation of violence is necessary for Sinn Fein to be admitted to negotiations. It may be that Gerry Adams and Martin McGuinness are no longer in a position to deliver this, and that, faced with the prospect of an IRA split, they will opt for holding the Republican movement together rather than making a traumatic break with old comrades. This, in essence, is the dilemma that has always faced them and which, sooner or later, they are going to have to confront.
But it is important to remember, in what has been a dreadfully bleak week for all those committed to the search for peace, that these tensions were resolved, or at least held in check, for a full 17 months. It has become fashionable in some quarters to question the scale of the achievement and the motives of those involved, but there was relative peace on this island. It transformed people's hopes and the ebbing of those hopes is almost unbearable.
The Irish government, along with John Hume, played a crucial role inconvincing the Republican movement to make it happen. It is still worth taking risks to give peace a second chance.