DOES this sound familiar? Armed nationalist groups have been holding secret talks with the government and are demanding that their cultural identity and differences be recognised as a precondition of any negotiations.
Meanwhile, unionists insist that their precondition for talks is that the nationalists first surrender their weapons.
The scene is Corsica, France's turbulent Mediterranean island, and the Irish parallells are not lost on the protagonists, who have been watching our own peace process closely.
The habitual violence in "the isle of beauty" as the mainland French call it has reached a new intensity in recent months. Rivalries between the splintered nationalist groups degenerated into revenge murders last summer, leaving 12 people dead.
In an island of under 250,000 people there are some 40 murders a year. Despite one of the highest police presences in France, most of these remain unsolved as inquiries fall foul of the clannish Corsican law of silence, a sullen defiance of authority which means you never denounce your neighbour.
The violence dates back 20 years, after many Corsicans felt betrayed by Paris using their island to relocate settlers fleeing from the newly independent Algeria in the late 1960s.
In the last year the number of bombings has mounted to an average of two a day, with any symbol of the presence of the French state considered a target. On one night last week, a carefully orchestrated action across the island saw 37 bombs planted, 27 of which went off.
This show of force, staged by the Resistenza movement, was in preparation for a visit by the Interior Minister, Mr Jean Louis Debre.
Everyone in Corsica knows that the Elysee in Paris has been holding "secret" talks with nationalists of the largest armed group, the National Liberation Front of Corsica (FLNC) historic wing (to distinguish it from other breakaway elements).
The night before Mr Debre arrived the FLNC pulled out all the stops and staged one of its most spectacular stunts. Journalists, their eyes taped, were taken into the Corsican hinterland for a press conference given by 600 armed men in balaclavas and combat gear.
Satisfied that the TV cameras had captured the impressive sophistication of their automatic weapons and rocket launchers, the masked spokesmen then announced a three month ceasefire to allow negotiations to start.
When he addressed Corsican politicians Mr Debre duly hinted at concessions to nationalist positions. While he insisted that "the [French] state will remain in Corsica and Corsica in the state," he said there should be a wide ranging dialogue and that issues such as culture and the Corsican language were for the Corsicans themselves to decide.
While few nationalists want complete independence from France, which pumps huge amounts of money into Corsica's corrupt and moribund economy, most demand a special statute similar to that of France's over seas territories, the Antilles, Reunion and Polynesia.
They want virtual autonomy, official bilingualism and a constitutional mention of "the Corsican people".
But Gaullist republicans insist on the unity of the French people", whether they be main landers or racial minorities. Such a precedent, they argue, would lead to independence movements, not only of the Corsicans but perhaps of Basques and Bretons as well. An attempt by the Socialists to specify "the Corsican people" was declared on constitutional in 1991.
Yesterday Corsica's elected officials, most of whom oppose any change in the island's relationship with the mainland, complained bitterly to the Prime Minister, Mr Alain Juppe, about the danger of dealing with unrepresentative, criminal groups.
Meanwhile, the Corsican population watches helplessly as destruction and death take place around them with apparent impunity. Their frustration may yet lead to a groundswell for peace, as happened in Northern Ireland.