The worst part of these crises is the last 24 hours. The air becomes a miasma of rumour and counter-rumour. Some of the characters in the drama lose their nerve while others, Iago-like, spread false stories with malicious intent.
The best course of action is to stick with the basic truths of the situation as they have become evident over a long period of time. The first essential fact to be borne in mind is that the IRA is not about to decommission at the behest of David Trimble or the Ulster Unionist Council.
The second is that the republican movement will say and do a great deal within the context of the Belfast Agreement, but it must be voluntary and it will take time.
Interviewed by Emily O'Reilly in the Observer last Sunday, Martin McGuinness made a statement which summed up the philosophy of the "peace process" wing of republicanism.
Asked whether the IRA would continue to exist if the decommissioning issue was resolved and the political institutions continued to operate, McGuinness replied: "That's a matter for the IRA. The Old IRA existed in the South for years. They attended commemorations, they buried their own comrades, and they did so peacefully. It's an odd question in my opinion. Why should we worry about it?"
The current problem, arising in part from a lack of trust between the two sides, is that the unionists want the IRA to move before it is ready. This is understandable, although in the process the house of cards could tumble down.
Not for the first time, the idea occurs of having a neutral tribunal to decide questions of interpretation between unionists and republicans. It would be difficult to establish such a body, but it might have nominees of the parties and the governments with a requirement that all its rulings be unanimous.
The peace process was bedevilled for a long time by different interpretations of what the Belfast Agreement said on the decommissioning issue, and more recently major problems developed over what precisely was agreed or understood in the Mitchell review.
Consensus is rarely achieved on Northern Ireland, but it is probably fair to say that at this stage there is a majority view, at least among independent observers, that decommissioning is more of an aspiration than a requirement in the Good Friday document.
From his point of view, Jeffrey Donaldson was correct to walk out of the talks on Good Friday, because the governments and the parties came down on the republican side in the end, merely obliging Sinn Fein and the other participants - the IRA was not mentioned - to use "any influence they may have" to achieve total decommissioning by May 2000.
As for the Mitchell review, unionists and British government sources insist there was a "tacit deadline" for decommissioning by the end of January, but tacit deadlines have little or no value.
The last time nerves were so fraught was in the lead-up to the Ulster Unionist Council meeting on November 27th. The more sensitive observers reported Trimble in serious trouble, and they were right. As one informed source put it: "The votes weren't there to carry forward, and something had to be crafted."
The "something" was a reconvened UUC meeting which, despite Trimble's protestations to the contrary, effectively set a deadline for decommissioning which was not contained, even in aspirational form, in the Belfast Agreement. No wonder Gerry Adams rang the lunchtime show on Radio Ulster to sound the alarm.
When the IRA isn't being touchy, Gerry Adams has to be touchy on its behalf. But this time they were both touchy, and an IRA statement in short order showed that the so-called "Trimble deadline" had gone down very badly. Close observers of republicanism drew the implication that the IRA decision to appoint a representative to the de Chastelain commission came close to being rescinded.
It is the stuff of classic tragedy: in order to save himself from his own dissidents, Trimble had to reconvene the UUC, but in the process he runs the risk of losing the entire agreement.
It is an unfortunate and rarely-mentioned fact that Trimble, while in many ways the most interesting and intelligent politician in either Britain or Ireland, happens to be deficient in the hands-on skills of politics.
Some thought was given to sending him out among the grassroots after Christmas to slap a few backs and spread a little reassurance, but the idea died a death: he was very busy as First Minister and, besides, the mood on the ground after London's adoption of the Patten report was so black that a "charm offensive" might be counter-productive.
Historians may ask questions about the timing of London's decision to accept the main Patten recommendations. There is a bureaucratic rhythm about these events which supersedes day-to-day political considerations and even common sense.
While nationalists would applaud the forthright manner in which London said Yes in principle to the main points of Patten - a report that had to be implemented sooner or later - even they must wonder why it could not have been held over until the UUC had completed its deliberations.
It tends to reinforce the view that, at government level, there is no overall game-plan and that the process is conducted in a seat-of-the-pants, crisis-management fashion rather than on the basis of a deliberate and phased programme.
Having kicked Trimble in the teeth in full view of his followers, London has since been forced back into its tired old role of wooing the unionist bride while Dublin tries to calm the republican groom.
Some observers are also inclined to ask questions about Dublin's role. How did the myth of achievable short-term IRA decommissioning persist? After all, any number of republican spokesmen were telling everyone who would listen that (a) the IRA is not going to decommission in the near future; (b) the IRA will never hand over guns to an authority it does not recognise in any context that has the remotest connotations of surrender; (c) the IRA will probably never do anything that unionists would define as decommissioning but, in the fullness of time, could well dispose of weapons in its own way.
This information was freely available and was almost certainly conveyed to the authorities in Dublin at the highest level. There was clearly a reluctance to accept it at face value, as evidenced almost exactly a year ago, despite a certain amount of ambiguity, in the Taoiseach's Sun- day Times interview.
Senior republicans who have risked their all to lead the movement on to the constitutional path say that interview was the single worst moment since the whole enterprise began in the late 1980s.
There is a view that it would have been more honest and ultimately more fruitful to spell out the realities to the unionist community. Decommissioning in short order was not going to take place and, even if it did, it would have no value in security terms, as the LVF decommissioning showed and as John Hume and senior RUC figures have pointed out.
But, as with the Garvaghy Road situation, the philosophy of seeking to whittle away the differences and find a short-cut on a long journey always seemed to win out.
Hopes rose and fell with monotonous regularity this week. The latest indication from the political barometer was quite negative, but last-minute miracles were not totally ruled out.
The IRA had moved, but not far enough. It was ready to come up with the strongest language so far, clarifying its intention to see the weapons disposed of, but it had given no date or timetable.
At the end of the day, it is the ordinary people of Northern Ireland who stand to suffer. The unionists did not invent the decommissioning issue: it was supplied by London through Sir Patrick Mayhew's "Washington Three" speech in 1995. Now the North stands on the brink of possible disaster because nobody has had the nerve to tell unionism the truth about decommissioning.
Well-placed sources were reporting last night that the situation was "pretty bleak". An IRA statement in conciliatory language had been on offer, but the republicans wanted to know in advance that the two governments would accept it and put pressure on Trimble to compromise.
Unless there was an improvement in the republican position, suspension would go ahead. Blair was reported to hold the view that Trimble had taken enough punishment. In a few weeks, when the media and propaganda ripples had died away, there could be another attempt at squaring the circle.
Many will be saddened if the institutions are suspended, because the new administration appeared to be working well. Any process which has Martin McGuinness providing money for a school in Protestant east Belfast can't be all bad. The question is whether the process is resilient enough to survive the worst setback since Canary Wharf.