Whoever said "The more things change the more they stay the same" clearly did not include Sinn Féin in their reckoning. The events of this weekend's ardfheis, had they been foretold a decade or so ago would have seemed fanciful.
Back then, as Gerry Adams pointed out in his presidential address, it was a markedly different world. He was able to tell a live RTÉ television audience that not so many years ago Sinn Féin was censored, there was no peace process and there was no end in sight to violence.
In 2003, delegates to this ardfheis demanded the return of the devolved administration to Stormont and discussed at length their requirements for signing up to a new policing dispensation.
They heard efforts by Mr Adams to reach out to unionists, to understand their difficulties with the changing Northern political landscape and a call for a truce with the SDLP on policing and the administration of justice. Imagine that back in the early 1990s.
Imagine a Sinn Féin president addressing an ardhfeis the front four rows of which were taken up by visitors from the diplomatic corps and VIPs.
It turned out not to be the defining conference that was anticipated by some following the conclusion of marathon talks at Hillsborough four weeks ago, but it appeared just as evident that such an ardfheis cannot be too far away.
This conference served notice on republicans that when the much-referred-to negotiations and "work-in-progress" is concluded, there will be some momentous decisions to be made.
To that end, the ardfheis at times appeared more of a rally than a conference, a rally designed to enhance a calm, feel-good factor and to sustain a sense of unity and purpose ahead of a potential move of some enormity.
One party insider privately referred to the scale of the decision on policing and justice that looms. Going into Stormont was a major step for republican Assembly members, he said. But signing up to policing and calling on the Sinn Féin electorate to support, join and help administer the new police service brings it right home to every nationalist in every street in Northern Ireland.
It will require those most used to the politics of dissent and protest to join "the system" and help fashion it in their own image.
Perhaps that was why there were so many polished attempts to both bind and embolden supporters. Joe Cahill, the father-figure for so many at the RDS, made a high-profile appearance and speech, the effect of which was to reassure that the holy grail of republicanism remains in secure hands.
Then there was the parading of visitors from other movements with which Sinn Féin allies itself - the Basques, the Palestinians, the African National Congress. There were roars of approval.
There were derogatory references by the bucketful against British and American aggression in Iraq, against Fianna Fáil and Bertie Ahern.
There were more than a couple of mentions of another battle against the English at Lansdowne Road and the exploits of more fighting Irish in Georgia. There were even a few slurs cast against Margaret Thatcher for good measure, and the legacy of Bobby Sands was ever present.
This ardfheis gave every impression that Sinn Féin is concentrating on one of the things it does best, preparing its electorate for change. That change, if it comes, could make the once-unimaginable happenings at the weekend seem tame by comparison.
As Joe Cahill said, the battle to win the peace is joined.