The outcome was a foregone conclusion. After months of careful negotiation, consultation and delicate positioning, the Labour Party and Democratic Left brought their delegates together to formalise the union of the two parties.
Nothing was left to chance. Egos and party sensitivities had been gently massaged in secret negotiations involving Brendan Howlin and Eamon Gilmore. And elements that could prove excessively divisive - such as the composition of a new front bench - had been left over for future determination by Ruairi Quinn, in consultation with Proinsias De Rossa. Sufficient to the day . . . and all that.
Some decisions were unavoidable. The name of the merged entity would be the Labour Party. Mr De Rossa, with his faded, militant republican baggage, would become the first president of the new party. And Mr Quinn would remain on as party leader, with Mr Howlin as his understudy.
Even there, it was a question of "softlee, softlee, catchee monkey". The trauma caused by their departure from the Workers' Party six years earlier was still active within Democratic Left. That debacle, which left Mr De Rossa and his supporters a few votes short of the two-thirds majority necessary to transfer power to the elected members of the parliamentary party, deprived them of a branded public image. Their alternatives - New Agenda and Democratic Left - never really captured the public imagination. Hence their overtures to Labour.
There was no mistake on the vote - 89 per cent of delegates for unity with Labour. The writing had been on the wall and Democratic Left was pragmatic.
The theory underlying the merger was that the new whole would be greater than the sum of the parts. But the practices and policies required were still pinned to a drawing board in some smokey back room. And, as with all such ambitious programmes, its success would eventually depend on 90 per cent perspiration and 10 per cent inspiration.
Ruairi Quinn told delegates that unity of the left was vital in order to combat the policies of the Fianna Fail/Progressive Democrats coalition, which was doing nothing to solve the real problems of a society bitterly divided between rich and poor.
The union of Labour and Democratic Left marked the end of another political division in Ireland. And it recognised the end of historic rivalry across Europe among the different parties of the left, following the collapse of the Berlin Wall. The two dominant traditions of the Irish left, Labour and radical republicanism, were being brought together, he said.
It was a prospect that held no appeal for Brian Fitzgerald. The former Meath TD led the charge in denouncing the merger. Democratic Left had "absolutely no principles", he said, and its members had left a trail of destruction behind them. They offered nothing the Labour Party needed and should be rejected.
From the sidelines, Gerry Adams hallooed them on. The Sinn Fein president saw the merger as creating space for his party to build a base in working class areas.
And Fianna Fail was only too happy to encourage him in that ambition. Far better to have Sinn Fein concentrate its formidable energies in an area of limited political growth, where left-wing competition was already intense, rather than to compete directly with it.
Proinsias De Rossa spoke about providing the people with an alternative to Fianna Fail and Fine Gael. And he was particularly concerned about "re-motivating those who have stopped voting and given up on politics".
When all the rhetoric was stripped away it came down to policies and organisation. The formal merger on February 1st would open the door to a recruitment campaign aimed at women and young people. And, with the local elections in view, they would campaign on a programme of reform and local partnership involving the voluntary and community sector.
An independent policy research foundation would be established to improve the quality of political debate and to develop informed and radical proposals. And there would be a shared leadership team for a two-and-a-half year transition. This would bring the party to 60 days beyond the next general election, or the party's conference for 2001, whichever was the later.
By pushing ahead with the merger, Ruairi Quinn is making a deliberate attempt to break the stranglehold of Fianna Fail and Fine Gael on the levers of power. Labour's role, since the foundation of the State, has been to support from outside, or to make up the numbers in inter-party or coalition governments. It was a poor political relation, not to be trusted with senior ministries.
That changed after the 1992 general election, when the party captured 33 seats under Dick Spring. Labour TDs took control of Education, Foreign Affairs and, finally, Finance. The new party is now targeting the Taoiseach's office.
Mr Quinn is talking about forming a government in which new Labour would be the largest party. It is a huge ambition, a difficult dream. Back in 1992, the Labour Party took 19.3 per cent of the popular vote, its highest ever. And Democratic Left won 2.8 per cent. By contrast, Fine Gael secured 24.5 per cent, a two-point advantage over the combined parties.
Last time out, in 1997, support levels for Labour and Democratic Left had declined to 10.4 and 2.5 per cent, respectively. And Fine Gael support recovered to 28 per cent, providing it with a huge margin of 15 per cent.
The latest opinion polls give Fine Gael 20 per cent popular support, while the combined left parties hold 13 to 14 per cent. Although the gap has narrowed, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to bridge it in the next general election.
Still, Ruairi Quinn is going to give it a lash. The Labour leader has courted business interests for months on a sharing, social partnership basis. He has offered a 10-year investment programme in return for a "sustainable tax level" that would allow for social inclusion and shared prosperity. With Democratic Left firmly on board, its an offer that might disarm business people and attract the PAYE sector.