There will be no handshake when David Trimble meets Gerry Adams at Stormont today. Northern Ireland's First Minister has explained in some detail why he considers such a gesture a political move too far at the moment. He told journalists last week "the origin of the handshake is to show that there is no weapon in one's hand. I am not going to shake his hand until I am absolutely certain that he is not holding weapons in reserve".
But the political handshake also sends a potent signal. As Joe Klein, the author of Primary Colors, wrote in his best-selling novel based on Bill Clinton's presidential campaign: "The handshake is the threshold act, the beginning of politics."
This is almost certainly the main reason why Mr Trimble is not going to provide the long-awaited photo opportunity. He accepts the necessity of talking to the Sinn Fein leader, but also knows that many of his supporters still regard Mr Adams as the architect of all their woes, to be supped with only by deploying a very long spoon Inevitably, it will take time to build trust at this level. But equally, if peace in Northern Ireland is to be secured, the two men will have to work together and to understand the scale of the difficulties which each one faces.
Neither of them may relish the idea, but they have to become partners in this enterprise. That means standing together to defend the Belfast Agreement from the extremists on both sides.
The late Brian Faulkner once told me, some time after the fall of the first power-sharing executive, that for him the most rewarding experience of that period had been to discover, and experience at first hand, the level of political intelligence and commitment that existed in the nationalist community. He cited John Hume and Paddy Devlin as examples.
It seemed never to have occurred to him previously either that such political skills existed among his opponents, or that they could be harnessed in a constructive fashion for the benefit of all parties in Northern Ireland.
This is something which any journalist who has covered the North and tried to talk regularly to all sides will recognise - the depth of mutual ignorance that still exists. I`ve heard Presbyterian clergymen talk of their genuine amazement at discovering that some members of Sinn Fein seemed absolutely sincere in wanting to learn about and understand the fears of the unionist community. Similarly, nationalists have expressed surprise at the emergence of loyalist leaders who are constructive in their views and extremely articulate in expressing them.
This apartheid has been as acute at the political level, which is why both sides have often found it easier to relate to and trust outsiders. But the barriers are beginning to come down. Over the summer we have witnessed the remarkable process which has drawn Seamus Mallon and David Trimble together as co-owners of the peace process.
It was bad luck, to put it mildly, that almost immediately after their appointment as First and Deputy First Minister the two men were plunged into the bitterly divisive crisis of Drumcree. At first they appeared uncertain, and clearly found it difficult to agree on a common public approach. It was the terrible murder of the small Quinn brothers which brought them together and gave David Trimble, in particular, the courage to denounce the extremists on his own side.
But since then, and particularly since the tragedy in Omagh, one has had the sense of seeing a political partnership being built, step by step. The applause which greeted David Trimble's attendance at a funeral in Donegal, the trust he clearly reposes in Bertie Ahern, Seamus Mallon's inspiring speech at the Waterfront Hall last week, these have been just some of the building bricks. The obstacles which still lie ahead in the peace process have been well rehearsed in these pages in recent days. There is the very real possibility that more violence will occur, despite the announcement this week of a ceasefire by the "Real IRA".
Nobody who knows about these things is sanguine that this will mean a definitive end to the splits, and the Government is known to be concerned that the hardliners could gather in whatever small group remains that espouses violence.
On the political level decommissioning and the early formation of the shadow executive, and how these two can move in tandem, loom large. President Clinton's visit to Northern Ireland last week provided the catalyst for considerable movement in the form of Gerry Adams's statement, David Trimble's response and the appointment of Martin McGuinness as Sinn Fein's representative to the decommissioning body. The Ulster Unionist leader has shown considerable flexibility in hinting that it might be possible for the IRA to destroy its own weapons and has expressed his own personal view that, one way or another, decommissioning will happen anyway.
As we have seen so often in the peace process, choreography is all-important. By naming Martin McGuinness as its liaison officer to the decommissioning body, Sinn Fein has sent an important signal that it is seriously committed to dealing with the issue.
The role of Gen John de Chastelain, who is trusted by both sides, will almost certainly be crucial in coming up with a formula which preserves dignity and political face all round. One possibility, already being canvassed in a way that appears designed to encourage public acceptance, is that a visible scaling down of the British security presence in areas like south Armagh could be matched by some destruction of arms or explosives.
These and other compromises will be made if and when there is the will on all sides to move forward. That was the main lesson of Bill Clinton's visit. Gerry Adams's statement on the violence being over fell quite a long way short of the words that had been demanded originally, to the effect that "the war is over". But because the British and Irish governments both hailed it as significant, it was sufficient to pave the way for David Trimble's offer of a meeting with the Sinn Fein leader.
It is within the so-often reviled parliament building at Stormont that Northern Ireland's politicians will take the steps towards a secure peace. There will be no George Mitchell this time to help them over the difficult patches, and his skills will be badly missed. But a growing familiarity with each other could, given a reasonably fair wind, provide the basis for a more propitious relationship than one of mutual contempt.
When that is accomplished the handshakes will follow naturally, and will be the more important because they will signal the confidence of politicians who have come to take each other's good faith for granted.