Gerry Adams has been around longer than almost every other political leader on the world stage. Elected Sinn Féin President 30 years ago, four British prime ministers, six taoisig, and four US presidents have come and gone on his watch.
Only Robert Mugabe in Zimbabwe has held office longer. Tomorrow as Gerry Adams celebrates his 65th birthday, his political leadership is under greater pressure than at any time in his career.
Revelations that he withheld vital information from police for nine years in a child abuse investigation, failed to take adequate steps to protect children in youth centres where his brother worked, and made untrue statements about Liam's role in Sinn Féin are ratcheting up the pressure.
He is increasingly viewed by many far beyond his normal circle of political opponents as being totally unfit to hold office. But the pensioner president shows no signs of handing over the reins of power.
So is there evidence that senior Sinn Féin figures are whispering in his ear that it's time to go or secretly plotting his exit strategy?
Mr Adams has faced no public criticism from leadership or grassroots members in recent days. But the party is well known for not tolerating even a whiff of dissent and for presenting a united front in crisis.
The strong cult of loyalty to the leadership, and 'star' status of Mr Adams, is also assisting his position. Sources say the only mutterings of discontent are from young, left-wing more recent recruits to Sinn Féin in the South.
There are no reports of clandestine plots against him in back-rooms. While concerned about the fall-out from his handling of his brother's paedophilia, party strategists are gambling that the controversy will blow over in weeks.
It will however be a game-changer if the Sinn Féin president is arrested and charged by police for withholding information about his brother's confession to child rape.
No-one could continue to lead any political party – even Sinn Féin – in those circumstances. He would be forced to immediately resign.
His disturbing shortcomings in responding to his brother's child abuse, have put paid to any intentions that he may run in the next Irish presidential election. While his own party may adopt a soft approach with him, the Southern electorate will not tolerate someone who had withheld information on child rape gracing Aras an Uachtarain.
It is also acknowledged that while he should hold onto his Louth seat, some electoral fall-out in the next Dáil elections is inevitable.
The Sinn Féin president also faces potential embarrassing exchanges in the Dáil when he attempts in future to question other politicians' actions or credibility on any subject.
Mr Adams' is both Sinn Féin's greatest asset and its biggest liability. Unlike Martin McGuinness who put the issue to bed by admitting he was in the IRA, the question of his paramilitary past continues to plague him.
His refusal to admit membership angers many in the republican community as much as it does unionists. If he didn't join, then 'why not?' they ask, and if he did join, he should be proud to say so.
Allegations by both former IRA commander Brendan Hughes and bomber Dolours Price, of his involvement in disappearing people in the 1970s have increasingly haunted him.
He denies Hughes' allegation that he set up a secret unit in the IRA that abducted, murdered and secretly buried alleged informers, including mother-of-ten Jean McConville in 1972.
Away from the legacy of the Troubles, Mr Adams' poor grasp on the current political and economic situation in the Republic has also been highlighted.
During the 2007 televised leaders' debate, he was demolished by the then PD leader, Michael McDowell. He appeared a one-trick pony and stood exposed as incapable of talking about anything except the peace process and making vague sentiments about rights.
The Sinn Féin president is keen to stay in office at least until 2016 for the 100th anniversary of the Easter Rising, the most hallowed date in the republican calendar.
But how most Irish people will view him then is debateable. Sinn Féin's top brass lined up to demand Cardinal Brady's resignation last year, insisting that his reputation was in tatters after the Catholic Church's own abuse scandal.
Just like Gerry Adams, Cardinal Brady was accused of failing to pass on information about a paedophile – in this case, Fr Brendan Smyth – to police and social services.
Given this stance, Sinn Féin leaders stand accused of hypocrisy regarding their president. But beyond the party's loyal following, the general verdict on Mr Adams might not be so understanding. It may not be fatal, but another blow has certainly been dealt to his increasingly beleaguered reputation.
