Can all of Blair's horses, and all of Blair's men, ever put Stormont together again? That is the big project that you can bet is occupying the minds, mission and political machinery in Whitehall right now. And not only in London.
The ultimate political conundrum has arrived. And for the mandarins and manpower staffing the at times notorious Northern Ireland peace process, this is the most dazzling tight-rope puzzler yet. You can be sure what they'd like to do: Tony Blair to continue to laud the Irish peace process as his historic 'baby', imperfect, maybe, but a space in political history assured nonetheless. And gleefully pointing to the most north-westerly 'part of the UK' as an example set by him to the rest of the world on how to make miracles happen - from conflict to coalition government.
But now a differerent and more demanding miracle is required, and one that is seemingly beset with chasms and mindfields on all sides. The choice of the 'lesser of potential evils' is the main preoccupation, and it seems easier to know not what to do rather than which course to take.
To punish republicans and rightfully or wrongly humiliate them on the world stage as instigators of the now famous 'Stormontgate' would feed into an already well established political cul-de-sac where Sinn Féin thrive on exclusion and turn it to their own advantage electorally and psychologically. The 'scapegoat' label would no doubt be applied and used to full emotional effect. However, to allow Republicans to go 'unpunished' would dangerously vex an already histrionic Unionist community, already convinced of its comfortable position on the high moral and political ground.
So what to do? Punish everyone - and deep-freeze the body politic that is Stormont and all its vestiges. The luxury of its locally elected ministers, the grandeur of self-government, the achievement of the ultimate compromise - not Westminster or Dail rule, but the beloved mutuality of the Assembly, where even DUP Ministers and MLAs take a reluctant yet palpable pride in working. All gone.
In main streets everywhere here in Northern Ireland, people will wryly tell you that 'we get the politicians we deserve, so by God we must have done something terribly wrong'. Yet the 108 MLAs and 12 Ministers have now become the once paraded cheerleaders of that much longed-for self government, and their Westminster replacements will remind us of the second-class, distance-politics that once marked out the place. Watch previously smooth-running political business grind to an effective work-to-rule, as English-accented grey suits uncomfortably fill the Ministerial portfolios and frown over their new and forever-to-be unfamilar caseloads. No thanks, Minister.
In the background, however, frantic scrambling to 'patch up the unpatchable' and plug the holes of the now haemorraging Good Friday Agreement will be both governments' priority. Listen, as the now weary and worn Tony Blair talks of the Agreement still being 'the only game in town' whilst Paisleyite vultures continue to circle overhead. Watch as Republicans rally to soothe their own support base that the crisis is not a catastrophe but a mere cough along the road to an apparently guaranteed united Ireland. And wonder how Trimble and Durkan, the Agreement's supposed leading mascots can save their own respective party's electoral skins in the meantime. Behold the stuff of surprising melodrama. Never a dull or stress-free moment. Who said politicians get their salaries easy?
Yet some vial last-minute reassurance is provided by the knowledge that such huge layers of emotional investment have characterised peace and indeed the Good Friday Agreement itself in Northern Ireland. Legally of course it is named merely the Belfast Agreement, 'Good Friday' is the sickly-sweet, quasi-religious rosette attached to the dry, legal document. And don't forget this peace process has its own theme tune and TV advertisments. 'Day's Like This' by Van Morrison rings in our ears like an anthem, and - at last count - five presidential visits, three of them formal, remain fresh in our minds. All have enhanced the emotional grip of the 'sweetly intoxicating peace', not to mention two Nobel Peace Prizes to boot. The apple cart cannot be completely toppled at this stage, not when everything remains at stake, and on the world stage.
And so the challenge and goal is there for the most politically astute and acrobatic to pull off. Whether it be the IRA making an exceptional gesture to reassure a dismayed global, and particularly American audience, and thus maybe unionists, probably in that order, or republicans being religated to the political 'dog-house' for a mutually agreed time, the solutions are many to be juggled and judged.
With the other impediments on the rocky road to peace still to be out-manoeuvred, this direct challenge to governmental political skill and creativity may well be an invaluable starting point. Machiavellianism, expediency and careful crafting, with a healthy dose of shrewdness and imagination, may be the only and necessary way out. As the adage goes, politics is indeed the art of the possible. Mr Morrison was ironically right: 'no-one told us there'd be Days Like This'. Who can resurrect the Stormont Humpty Dumpty, and how? Let the much-needed magic begin.
