Would one simple act of decommissioning by the Provisional IRA be sufficient to save devolution and put Northern Ireland on course for peace and stability? Or would it further compromise two democratic governments, bury David Trimble, and leave the gun as much at the centre of politics in Ireland as ever?
Some such act seems daily more likely. Arms dumps already seen by the international weapons inspectors may be concreted over in the presence of Messrs Ahtisaari and Ramaphosa. This sealing of the dumps will be sufficient to satisfy them, and the Independent International Commission on Decommissioning will declare that decommissioning has commenced. Mr John Reid will proclaim yet another breakthrough, Messrs Blair and Ahern will chorus "historic", and call for the immediate restoration of the devolved institutions.
But what, in fact, will have happened? A proscribed terrorist organisation, operating in both the UK and the Republic, will have retained control of its large armoury of weapons and explosives. A small proportion of that armoury, in dumps selected by the IRA, will have been concreted in by contractors working under the control of the IRA, presumably under conditions of theoretical secrecy.
One or other government, most likely that of the Republic, will have connived at least two major criminal acts - that of illegal possession of arms, and the destruction of evidence. (The first weapons to be so sealed will be any that might connect the IRA with murder.)
It has been possible for Dublin to pretend that the weapons inspectors on previous visits to IRA dumps have done so in secret; this time bulldozers and lorryloads of ready-mix should be visible even to the blindest eye.
Should two governments standing shoulder to shoulder in the world fight against terrorism behave in this way? They will argue that in this case the end (the decommissioning of some weapons) justifies the means (the blind eye). But no democratic government should turn a blind eye to terrorism, and in this case the end may be the effective elimination of some weapons at the cost of governmental concession of the IRA's right to hold arms.
This is what the long decommissioning dance has been about. The IRA has accepted that at some point it will have to give up some arms, to initiate a process that will at some point put arms beyond use. From the very earliest days of the process, it has ensured that there has been no mention of surrendering arms. The two governments were happy to substitute the neutral term decommissioning.
Since then the mechanisms agreed on arms have meant the IRA has had no dealings with either government; it has talked only to the independent commission. It has been at pains to preserve its self-proclaimed status as the army of a sovereign power, negotiating the end to a period of conflict, and deciding itself how, when and under what circumstances it may dispose of its arms. The British government's readiness to use the term demilitarisation to cover both IRA decommissioning and troop reductions in Northern Ireland is part of the same script.
When the first inspection of arms dumps took place last year, Ruair∅ ╙ Bradaigh of Republican Sinn FΘin denounced it as an act of surrender.
But the hysterical extravagance of ╙ Bradaigh's denunciation serves only to underline how careful the IRA has been. One small part of its arsenal had been opened for inspection, and even that remained under IRA control, and neither the British nor the Irish states had any hand in the inspection. Concreting over its arms will similarly be presented as the voluntary act of an undefeated army.
Just as it has rendered ╙ Bradaigh's criticism meaningless, the IRA has also rendered any such act of decommissioning symbolically worthless. The governments, and many others, have argued that any single act of decommissioning would signal the end of the war and the de facto surrender of republicanism in terms of its goal of a united Irish Republic or nothing, and its right to fight for it. In reality, cementing over one or two arms dumps would be nothing more than confirmation of its Armalite and ballot-box strategy.
In terms of confidence building, few people in Northern Ireland will be impressed. David Trimble, in the light of all he has said, may feel he has little option but to embrace his Sinn FΘin colleagues, but will his party back him?
Even if he retained the support of his Assembly party, would the Ulster Unionist Council, increasingly influenced by Jeffrey Donaldson and David Burnside, support him?
Does anyone believe, or pretend, that the IRA would decommission all its weapons and disband before it had achieved the end of British rule in Northern Ireland.
One simple act of decommissioning next week or next month would leave its distorted ideology intact and would give it a propaganda coup. It might also leave David Trimble without a party, Northern Ireland without devolution, and two governments without a policy.
Dennis Kennedy is a Belfast-based academic and commenatator