Is everybody out of step but the unionists over all-party talks? The agonising of the Ulster Unionist Party and the flurry of activity to persuade it into the talks have combined to divert attention from critical questions as to the real meaning of the talks and their validity as a pathway to peace. Under the prevailing circumstances, the talks are essentially what Sinn Fein has always called them - a peace conference between two sides which have been at war for almost 30 years. The two sides are the IRA on the one hand, and the British government and the people it represents on the other.

The Irish Government and non-violent nationalists will argue that much more is involved, that the whole constitutional settlement is being reviewed, only partly as a means of weaning Irish republicans off violence. However, it is manifest that no such conference would be talking place without the IRA violence. In a sense, Dublin and non-violent nationalism are at the table courtesy of the IRA.

For almost 30 years the two governments denounced republican terrorism as just that, and repeatedly declared their intention of defeating it and bringing its perpetrators to justice. This week they sat down to discuss peace terms with the representatives of that terrorism, while the terrorists retain their arms, assert their cause is just and indicate clearly that they reserve the right to return to violence.

Sinn Fein's acceptance of the Mitchell Principles does not substantially alter that situation. It is a radical step for the political advocates of Irish republicanism and may yet come back to trouble the movement, but it rests on the myth that Sinn Fein and the IRA are separate and distinct. It is the parties to the talks who sign up: an individual can sign up to non-violence wearing his Sinn Fein hat while retaining the right to use violence wearing his IRA balaclava.

The Mitchell Principles are little more than a fig-leaf to cover the embarrassment of the two governments as they do what they affirmed they never would - negotiate with the representatives of armed terrorism. The two governments are, in effect, now negotiating via Sinn Fein with the bombers of Enniskillen and Warrington and with the murderers of Det Garda Jerry McCabe and the Lurgan RUC men.

Yet there is almost overwhelming support for the inclusive talks in both parts of Ireland. This may arise partly from the effectiveness of the fig-leaf, but mainly from the belief that the process will indeed lead to peace and an IRA abandonment of violence. Even if it does not, talking in itself is virtuous and can do no harm. Are the unionists, therefore, totally mistaken in their patent reluctance to be drawn in?

Senator George Mitchell and his report are crucial factors in the situation, yet there are serious, perhaps fatal flaws in the Mitchell approach. As has been pointed out before, the key assumption in the report was that those in illegal possession of arms had "a clear commitment to work constructively to achieve full and verifiable decommissioning".

Mr Mitchell and his two colleagues declared themselves satisfied that there was such a commitment (paragraphs 24 and 25). The commitment was that of those actually in possession of the arms, not their political wings.

(By decommissioning, the report means, quite clearly, the giving up of illegally held arms. Sinn Fein's repeated affirmations of support for a "decommissioning of all arms", including those legally held by the State, is something else entirely.)

The Mitchell approach was therefore based on the assumption that the IRA had already decided to abandon violence and was committed to giving up its arms. The problem was to find a way of doing that which did not involve a humiliating surrender for republicans or the abandonment of their hopes of achieving their aims through political means. The Mitchell answer was some decommissioning in the course of all-party talks.'

Within weeks of the Mitchell re port appearing in January 1996, the IRA demonstrated it was still in violent business by blowing up London's docklands. Incredibly, the Mitchell approach has survived this brutal proof that the senator has got it wrong. It is still the basis upon which the two governments are holding the talks, even though the IRA has declined to accept the Mitchell Principles and has repeated that it will not decommission during the talks.

The bomb in Markethill, whoever planted it, is a loud reminder of the reality of political violence and of the vital need to disarm all paramilitaries without delay.

In these circumstances no democrat, unionist or nationalist, should be happy sitting down with the representatives of the IRA. The recriminations within unionism and the obviously painful dilemma of the UUP are to the credit of unionists, rather than otherwise.

The only honest justification for the talks is that they will somehow work the miracle, and that republicanism will be persuaded to renounce violence and to accept a political settlement of such modest proportions that it is also acceptable to a majority in Northern Ireland.

It is on the basis of such an act of faith that the unionists are urged to take their places at the table. Their dilemma is made sharper by the knowledge that the claim that taking part can do no harm may be disastrously wrong. It may be that the task of persuading republicans to renounce violence is worst served, not best, by appeasement and by treating them as honourable participants in a "peace negotiation".

A combination of terrorist violence and strategic ceasefire has, after all, seen Sinn Fein come progressively closer to eclipsing the SDLP, and bombings and murder have resulted in the relaxation of the terms of entry into the talks.

Knowing all this, unionists were and are faced with the dilemma that the talks are going ahead anyway and that in the end, the two governments will put forward their own solution. Refusal to take part in talks might be a position or principle, but would be seen as intransigence by many, including considerable sections of the unionist community.

Participation, on the other hand, could mean a chance to articulate the unionist viewpoint and to consolidate unionist opinion for the real debate to come, when the government puts its proposals to a referendum next summer. Unionists, if and when they actually take their seats, may be the most uncomfortable people around the table. They might also be the most honest.

Dennis Kennedy is a member of the Cadogan Group, the Belfast-based political study group