In 2005 General John de Chastelain, chairman of the international body responsible for the oversight of paramilitary decommissioning, announced that, on the basis of personal observation by himself and his colleagues, he was satisfied that PIRA had honoured its pledge to put weapons and materiel ‘beyond use’. Two clerics, the Catholic Father Alec Reid and the Methodist Reverend Harold Good, who had been present as observers during the decommissioning exercise, eloquently expressed their conviction that a crucial stage in the ‘peace process’ had indeed been reached.

This news was greeted with the greatest satisfaction by Governments in London, Dublin and Washington, and the hope was expressed that early inter-party dialogue would lead to the revival of the Assembly Executive, the return of devolved government, and the fulfilment of the promises embodied in the Belfast Agreement of 1997. These hopes were to be lowered if not dashed by a response from unionist politicians which was at best guarded and, in the case of the newly dominant DUP, sceptical to the point of hostility. The ‘blame game’ showed early signs of shifting from republicans (‘Why do they retain their arms and persist in criminality?’) to unionists (‘Can we not now see that, whatever others deliver, they will never share power with nationalists?’).

This grudging reaction to the satisfaction of a demand constantly reiterated can best be explained by the length of delay in the decommissioning process, a persistent unwillingness to trust the motives of the republican movement, the lack of any clarity about the future role (if any) of PIRA, a suspicion of continuing republican involvement in criminality and localised ‘enforcement’, and the continuing absence in the statements by Gerry Adams and others of any convincing element of regret or remorse. There was indeed a strong inference in such statements that victims of the violence in the Army or police had been wholly legitimate targets, combatants in a ‘war’.

Yet the acts of decommissioning, following the earlier statement that the ‘armed struggle’ had been brought to an end, clearly represented a significant turning point in Northern Ireland's affairs. In the distant days of 1968 Terence O'Neill had used the imagery of ‘Ulster at the crossroads’. Now, once again, Northern Ireland had reached a crucial turning point. But in what direction would it choose to turn?