`Could London (and Dublin) have decided that David Trimble's survival is no longer material to the future of the peace process?" This question was posed on this page on January 24th last year.
It reflected the dark suspicion and foreboding of a senior figure in Northern Ireland affairs (a non-unionist, as it happens) as London and Dublin considered their options ahead of Mr Trimble's first post-dated resignation as First Minister.
The analysis it fed reflected on the near-inescapable imbalance of the pressures and forces at work within the peace process. Irish sources had confirmed the inevitable swing of the pendulum in any negotiation, saying: "The two governments will push the Provos as far as they can. But if they refuse to yield, the squeeze invariably comes back on the other parties."
Ministers, politicians, officials and citizens alike had all pondered the bottom-line question. If push came to shove would the British government choose the political process or the peace?
Yet to pose it at all was to risk the considerable wrath of Mr Peter Mandelson, then secretary of state for Northern Ireland. He simply couldn't understand how the question arose, or what it might mean or presuppose. Did anyone really think the threat of another Canary Wharf bomb would see him drop Mr Trimble and abandon the principle of dual consent in Northern Ireland?
In truth, of course, many unionists feared - as many republicans would have hoped - that that would be precisely the reaction of a British government.
Within a fortnight, however, Mr Mandelson had acquitted himself of such suspicion, even as it attached itself to Dublin. Throughout the long day of February 11th last year the Taoiseach, Mr Ahern, fought against the imminent British suspension of the Assembly and other institutions of the Belfast Agreement. And into the long night which followed he sustained the pressure, seemingly convinced he could instantly reverse it.
Mr Mandelson assumed demon status in the eyes of nationalist and republican Ireland. He would claim vindication, however, during the subsequent May negotiations which saw Mr Trimble agree to return to the power-sharing Executive in exchange for a republican promise to see weapons put verifiably beyond use.
As time for that promise fast runs out, and the two governments consider their options ahead of Mr Trimble's second post-dated resignation, the approach of Mr Mandelson's successor, Dr John Reid, appears strikingly different, at least at first glance.
In Belfast last week Northern Ireland Office officials whispered none too quietly that Dr Reid was "not a suspender". The Secretary of State himself has subsequently indicated he is not contemplating a second suspension of the Assembly and other institutions. Nor, he says, has anyone asked him to do so.
This has inevitably prompted comparisons with the British government's attitude during the first great crisis of the Good Friday accord, and questions about its approach to the second, now seemingly set to descend this coming weekend.
For on the face of it the fundamentals are not much changed. Last year Mr Mandelson argued that suspension was necessary to keep Mr Trimble, pro-agreement unionism and the institutions of government themselves in play.
If the First Minister resigned, he would take the Deputy First Minister with him. In the continued absence of decommissioning, even if he wished to return to office, Mr Trimble would not have the votes to secure re-election. The choice then would be fresh Assembly elections which almost inevitably would witness the further erosion of centreground support for the Ulster Unionists and the SDLP.
For then, read now. True, until the last 48 hours it has appeared certain a departing Mr Trimble would leave his UUP colleagues in ministerial position. He may yet do so. That would give the two governments another six weeks in which to try to break the decommissioning/demilitarisation/policing deadlock.
Hope springs eternal. The Sinn Fein president, Mr Gerry Adams, has given the clearest signal that the arms issue is unlikely to be resolved in response to Mr Trimble's latest deadline; while his recent interview for the Sunday Boston Herald, like that in today's Irish Times, will have encouraged government hopes that he remains determined to see it sorted over time.
Doubts persist. Might Sinn Fein actually want to see Mr Trimble fall? Even if not, can republicans anyway resist the instinct to watch unionism plunged into further confusion and division? If the IRA won't do it to prevent Mr Trimble's resignation on Sunday, why would they be more willing to bring him back to ministerial life in six weeks' time?
Some observers suggest the difference is that a mid-August deadline would be one imposed by statute governing the rules for the election of a First and Deputy First Minister, rather than one set by the Ulster Unionist leader. And who could mock such slim hope of the kind which has brought the process further already than most would have thought possible only a short time ago?
If so it proves, and the breakthrough which eludes Mr Blair and Mr Ahern this week falls into their lap in July or August, then Mr Trimble could indeed expect to be re-elected First Minister.
Yet it is to take an enormous gamble. If Mr Trimble quits for want of decommissioning, it is impossible to see (following his election reverses) how he could return to the Executive without it, even if he wished.
Moreover, understandably attractive as the theory might be to some officials, it is equally hard to imagine any putative alternative UUP leader at Stormont filling the vacancy created by Mr Trimble in such circumstances.
That is not to say Mr Trimble's fall as First Minister and Ulster Unionist leader would of itself mark the end of the process. The two governments will deal with whatever hand is dealt.
For sure it would be messy. But if Mr Trimble's position should prove unsustainable, the two governments would seek to deal in turn with a redefined and realigned unionist leadership, not least in the confident knowledge that even the DUP wants to preserve devolution.
For now, however, Mr Blair and his advisers will calculate that Mr Trimble's position need not be unsustainable at all, and that he remains their best bet for securing unionist consent (now in diminishing supply) for the agreement.
Why then - in contrast with January/February of last year - has the chorus not already gone up for suspension?
The answer, apparently, lies with Mr Trimble and in his determination this time to resign. Last year the threat to quit prompted suspension. This, in turn, was followed by what many unionists will have seen (or, at any rate, see now) as a "fudge" on IRA decommissioning, which then failed to materialise. In simple terms, to replay the same scenario a second time would encourage a widespread expectation of a similar outcome.
That would not fit with the state of unionist opinion manifest in the recent elections. Moreover, it would not satisfy Mr Trimble's own personal requirement.
Inevitably, perhaps, Mr Trimble's current manoeuvres are seen solely in the light of his election reverses. However, it should not be forgotten that he actually announced his post-dated resignation in anticipation of a good UUP performance in the Westminster and district council polls. Not for the first time had Mr Trimble and those closest to him misjudged the mood in the unionist heartlands.
In other words, Mr Trimble actually set his second deadline for decommissioning, not because he feared electoral defeat, but because he was determined decommissioning had to happen. For the second time now, his supporters say, the Ulster Unionist leader has shown he really does have a "bottom line". And this time it really is hard to see how it might be breached.