Drapier: It was a traumatic week in Leinster House. The Finance Bill and other important stuff were eclipsed yet again by the deepening crisis on the North. Drapier was gobsmacked that so much could unravel so quickly. Closure from all sides had been tantalisingly within reach before Christmas; it's shocking how quickly the atmosphere has deteriorated since the bank robbery.
Fine Gael wisely used its private members' time to catapult the crisis into the Dáil by tabling a motion condemning Sinn Féin and the menace contained in the two IRA statements.
Drapier has been hurling on and off this ditch for enough seasons to spot the rule change; constructive ambiguity, which for so long has fuelled the peace project, is well and truly over. In its place is a welcome dose of political honesty. The Taoiseach has the air of a jilted lover; in football parlance his head is down.
Republican paramilitarism and the issue of weapons has dogged the peace efforts right from the beginning and it remains an immovable obstacle.
Initially, it pre-empted negotiations, forcing George Mitchell to park it under the aegis of Gen John de Chastelain.
Over time, the rules were recast so that total decommissioning became a product of the overall settlement rather than a precondition for political progress.
But these days, the row appears more about organised criminality than weapons disposal. After all, there have been three acts of verified decommissioning in accordance with the agreement. The real obstacle now is an absence of trust.
As the Taoiseach, Bertie Ahern, said this week there just is not enough confidence to sustain a prospective unionist partner for Sinn Féin in government in Northern Ireland. Forget the pre-Christmas clauses on criminality, forget photographs, forget prisoner releases; the talks broke down because Ian and Peter didn't trust Gerry and Martin.
Trust in human relations is a very subjective thing. No amount of pressure by any government can convince a party or person to trust another.
Men earn each other's confidence empirically, through eye contact, track record, integrity of speech and action; a slow convincing.
Despite our best political efforts over the years, sufficient trust as between the broad unionist political family and Sinn Féin just doesn't exist. Equally worrying, in terms of future progress is the breakdown of trust as between the Government and the republican leadership.
If nothing else, this week's Dáil debate allowed the parties to testify as to the current state of a process, which has been so draining, and for a new consensus to emerge.
Tactically, by confirming that the early release of the McCabe killers was "off the table" the Taoiseach completely deflected a Fine Gael assault on this point.
Drapier was struck by the sincerity and patriotism of all the contributions. All the senior Fine Gael speakers struck a tough and uncompromising tone about Sinn Féin.
Seymour Crawford, like all the Border deputies, spoke movingly about the economic gains and security concerns of local people in Border areas, and he spoke for many of us when he confessed that he had often bit his tongue, when pressed by media about IRA activity, because he believed that there was a bigger goal to be won.
The IRA statement, he said, had sent "shivers down his back". The Border area, after all, was where most murders had been committed, where most of the maiming and forced movement, of families had occurred. The spectre of Omagh and Monaghan loomed large in his area.
In similar vein, Fergus O'Dowd recorded his own disappointment as a representative of North Louth and Cooley, where the murdered body of Jean McConville had lain unmarked for 30 years, and where Tom Oliver had been so brutally murdered by the IRA.
Labour's Pat Rabbitte revealed his party's bitterness at the manner in which Sinn Féin had used the peace process for its own political end, as a "footbridge to power" at the electoral expense of parties like itself and Fianna Fáil.
When Michael McDowell rose to speak, flanked by a brooding Brian Cowen, his demeanour was reflective and not as combative as usual. Before long however the scripted remarks were abandoned and the hand of history descended on the chamber. In language reminiscent of O'Malley's "Stand by the Republic" address he delivered a tour de force. "True republicanism can never be severed from the principle of democratic mandate. It is not a holy flame kept burning by a secret cult; it derives its authority from the strong voice of the people, - not from a ghostly whisper from history."
Brian Cowen passionately argued that true republicanism was believing in the dynamic of politics to achieve the potential of the agreement.
All in all, it was gripping stuff. The only pity was the shortage of time, which excluded other voices.
So rhetoric aside, where now for the peace process? In the din of condemnation Drapier was relieved to note the Taoiseach quietly digging in for the long haul to "finish the job". What Bertie lacks in rhetorical flourish he makes up for in stamina and an ability to take a long view. In this regard Sinn Féin has met its match. It is Bertie after all who has painstakingly brought them so far into the democratic fold that a return to armed conflict is out of the question. In Drapier's view, it is only Bertie that can ultimately bring about the decriminalisation of Irish republicanism.
On Thursday, by the time the much-leaked IMC report was published, fingering Sinn Féin for the bank robbery, it was politically obsolete.
Also by Thursday humour had bizarrely replaced rancour with banter breaking out between the Tánaiste and Sinn Féin over the whereabouts of the tri-colour over Leinster House. It seems there was a "problem with the rope" whereupon the Tánaiste, quick as a flash, jibed that deputies Ó Snodaigh and Ó Caoláin might be able to help out!
Adams's "jail me" outburst completed the drama and deputies fled to their constituencies and the real world.