Brendan Howlin and Ruairi Quinn came to an agreement last Wednesday not to issue manifestos, appoint directors of election or engage in public dispute during their campaigns to succeed Dick Spring as leader of the Labour Party.
The decision reflected an absence of ideological dispute within an organisation that has just emerged from 4 1/2 years in government. It also revealed part of Dick Spring's inheritance: the two contenders seeking to succeed him come from what used to be the conservative wing of the party.
The intention behind the agreement was to avoid fuelling traditional disputes or dredging up public memories of a Labour Party turning in upon itself in crisis. Those phantoms were exorcised in 1989, and there was no desire by the two contenders to revisit the old left/right, urban/rural battlefields.
But they hadn't gone away. And those with nostalgic feelings for the blood-and-thunder days talked of reflecting old values. There was also a power play at work. While next Thursday's election decides who will lead the Labour Party, the knock-on effect is likely to determine the pecking order at parliamentary party and general council level.
When a leadership vacancy occurs, positioning is all where ambition is concerned. A supporter expects to share the spoils. Public endorsement and promotion are habitual bedfellows. Power-broking becomes the name of the game.
Michael D. Higgins has until Monday to make up his mind to enter the race on a left-of-centre ticket, or to throw his support behind an existing candidate.
No such hesitancy was displayed by Emmet Stagg who, on securing certain policy-formation commitments, ran up a left-wing flag in support of Mr Howlin. And from Tipperary South Michael Ferris put his shoulder to the Howlin wheel.
In Dublin, after some hesitation by Roisin Shortall, Mr Quinn emerged as the only contender. And Tommy Broughan entered the fray to argue for a Dublin face on the poster.
Having dropped eight of its 13 seats in the capital in the June election, the party was in desperate need of a transfusion. But the situation was almost as bad in Munster, where the number of seats had been cut from 10 to six.
If the electorate was confined to members of the Parliamentary Labour Party, a head count at this stage would probably favour Mr Howlin. But for the first time members of the general council have been enfranchised, and the destination of those 44 votes will ultimately decide the issue.
Council members met the candidates at Leinster House during the week after the date of the election was fixed. And they will hear formal presentations on the candidates' intentions at a joint meeting of the council and parliamentary party next Thursday.
In between, the contenders will engage in an intensive telephone canvass of council members. And they, in turn, will consult with their local organisations before making up their minds.
In canvassing for votes, Ruairi Quinn has adopted the kind of non-threatening overview of society he developed as a successful minister for finance. There is no left-wing rhetoric; more a reasoned pitch for a more equal sharing of resources.
As he sees it, Ireland is about to become one of the richer countries in Europe, and will be able to afford the kind of social engineering that could only be dreamt about in the 1980s. Community development and the tackling of deprivation at all levels is vital in order to prevent the emergence of a dangerous, two-speed society.
Mr Quinn presents himself as the best man for the job, with greater experience and a wider range of contacts. He recognises the need to restructure and revitalise the party and quotes his own success in Dublin for the council elections of 1991.
But the clincher where he is concerned is the face on the poster. The Dublin South East TD argues that if the party wishes to reach out to a broader electorate and appeal to new voters, his face would be the most recognisable and effective brand image. That would certainly be true where Dublin middle-class voters are concerned. But the traditional anti-city bias within the party - not to mention its distrust of former ministers - is not in Mr Quinn's favour.
Recognising the perceived gulf between the Labour leadership and the branches, Mr Howlin has concentrated on the local. Promising greater consultation, more powers and an input into policy formation, the Wexford TD is pressing all the right buttons where the electorate of the general council is concerned.
He doesn't just recognise the need for party reorganisation, following the neglect of the coalition years. He appears anxious and determined to create a more inclusive and responsive top-tobottom structure.
The word "vigorous" was used by a number of voters to describe the in-your-face campaigning technique used by Mr Howlin.
By contrast, Mr Quinn's initial approach was almost lackadaisical as he stood on his experience and his record in government. Within days, however, he had sharpened up his act and was entering the button-pushing business with a will as he recognised that ground had been lost.
If the contest turned on past accessibility, Mr Howlin would win because of his clientelist approach as minister for the environment. By contrast, Mr Quinn was distant and aloof as he guarded the country's purse-strings in Finance.
Concern over public perception could still decide the issue, however, given the increasing importance of the floating vote and the Dublin constituencies.
One other thing. Mr Howlin's success could be expected to dampen, if not extinguish, Mr Quinn's appetite for work within the party. A delay of a few years, on the other hand, might sharpen Mr Howlin's hunger.
The campaign has been likened to a Seanad election by some of those involved. But the defining feature of a Seanad campaign is the uncertainty of the outcome. And the key question during the canvass is not whether a lie has been told, but how many.