There is a certain mordant irony in the news that a Fianna Fáil internal review body, which has been meeting to discuss why the party's core support appears to be softening, is called the "reform group".
About 20 senior party luminaries, including the Taoiseach, have been meeting at Dublin's Merrion Hotel to explore the reasons for the party's hammering in the local elections in June.
If the objective is to sharpen organisational structures and motivate members to fight for every ball, then this exercise will undoubtedly bear fruit. But if these august apparatchiks are genuinely trying to puzzle out what has happened to Fianna Fáil, then serious questions need to be asked about their suitability for government at all.
What has happened to Fianna Fáil, and why it is having the effects observed in June, is straightforward and obvious. The party's problems, such as they may be, result from a process of reform that has been under way for 15 years, in which Fianna Fáil has "reformed" itself out of existence in accordance with the demands of its enemies.
In 1989, confronted by the 'Hobson's Choice' of early retirement or partnership with the PDs, Charles Haughey began the process of selling FF's soul to its political enemies in a Faustian pact that allowed it to remain in power without necessarily governing.
Haughey's greatest political mistake was his ego-driven refusal of the continuing benefits of the Tallaght Strategy arrangement with Fine Gael, and so bequeathed his party a quite different form of dependency, which, within a short time, ended his own leadership.
The relationships between FF and its coalition "partners" since then could felicitously be compared to that between hostage and kidnapper: do as you're told or the government gets it. The PDs activated this threat in 1992 and, to show it meant business, plugged CJH. In 1994, Labour shot all hostages and then kidnapped Fine Gael.
For 13 of the past 15 years, FF has been a bit like the 'third policeman's' bicycle, coming more and more to resemble its rider. This seismic shift in the nature of the State's biggest party has been received as though it were a natural and organic metamorphosis.
But is it conceivable, for example, that Fianna Fáil, in its pure state, would have defended the smoking ban to the bitter end? This was but one concrete manifestation of a more general condition, whereby FF has become indistinguishable from those seeking its destruction.
But political truths are only understood after the event, and, gradually and imperceptibly, the process of FF's enslavement has been reversing itself in a way that may soon again open up the possibility of a majority FF government.
Firstly, there is the fact that a natural process of competition has removed FF from the zone of constant humiliation it endured from 1989 to 1994. It has been noticeable that, during the recent periods of coalition with the PDs, there has been no episode in which the threat of pulling the communication cord was seriously mooted. The cynical view is that FF has become so compliant that such threats are no longer necessary.
But more relevant are the benefits (for FF) of competition between the PDs on the inside and Labour on the outside. Once the patterns of coalition had settled down, it became obvious to everyone that, if riders can change bicycles, bicycles can change riders. Michael McDowell has been heard thinking aloud about the possibility of the PDs pulling the plug on the Government in advance of a full term, but this is now a far more high-risk strategy than in the past. This gives Fianna Fáil some room for manoeuvre. An important factor also is that, whatever disgruntlements may be expressed in the minor leagues of local elections, FF's core support remains intact when it matters.
Fianna Fáilers may punish their local representatives for the cultural sins of their leaders, but they will not so readily defect when the stakes are important.
For others, politics is a matter of weighing up interests and advantages; for Fianna Fáilers, politics is more like sport, and most will irrevocably part from their party allegiance only in death. They support their tribe, through thick and thin, and, in a strange way, the past decade-and-a-half has delivered triumphs that might otherwise have been impossible.
It is a measure of what the enemies of Fianna Fáil are up against that these considerations are more important to the FF grassroots than having their aspirations and beliefs adequately represented in government. In other words, they, like their leaders, prefer neutered government to virginal opposition.
The cumulative result has been the exact opposite of what the enemies of Fianna Fáil desired: by changing Fianna Fáil, they have made the party more congenial to outsiders, but they have not succeeded in wresting the party from its core support. The future, then, is a matter of timing and arithmetic. What Fianna Fáil's situation calls for now may not be more "reform", but a little strategic rebellion.