Nobody, of course, can go back to the beginning. That is an Irish legend lost among the bogs and mists of futility. But, as the chimera called "peace" slips and slides again, it is at least worth going back to the beginning of these Troubles (more modern than ancient). What did the British government think then? We know, because the 30-year rule opens the closed cabinet doors of 1969. Home secretary James Callaghan told his colleagues that: "There is a good deal of corroboration for the view that the Catholics have acted in self-defence, and little evidence to support the view of the Northern Irish government that the IRA are mainly responsible." Big Jim's officials reported widespread unionist gerrymandering, favouritism and seedy control over local authority housing. "There are legitimate grievances and it is entirely legitimate that they should be ventilated by demonstration."  Callaghan himself told the new Northern Irish prime minister that "he must not rely on British military support in maintaining repressive policies". Harold Wilson's private secretary reported bleakly that "our main trouble is from the Protestants". Defence secretary Healey blamed the RUC for the "indiscriminate use of firearms, tear gas etc" and the head of the British army described a police force "which is behind the times, poorly led and administered, with a sadly inefficient special branch."   In sum, as it seemed to the men and women gathered around the long table in Downing Street, this was a no-win game which the unionists, the triumphalists of the Orange Order, had started by their mindless choice of sectarian repression over liberal democracy. And now, yet again, the poor old mainland Brits were being summoned to sort things out in blood, sweat and tears.  You don't need to agree in detail with those ministers and witnesses of 30 years ago to see the point. Agreement about anything in Northern Ireland's past is probably an unattainable golal. But the cabinet minutes do paint a grisly picture of frustration and helpessness. They tell us, as troubled times returned, where an impotent government far away laid the (mostly private, teeth-grinding) blame. British imperialism? Wilson's team, even then, wished Belfast could be deemed independent and told to push off.  For once, too, the recent past has relevance to the present. It reminds us, as the IRA hangs on to its guns and another "process" of reconciliation threatens to go belly up - perhaps for many years - that it takes two to make a peace. It reminds us that nothing can really begin afresh without continuing compromise, exercised day after day until it becomes normality.  A few weeks ago one truce ended. Eta, the zealots of Basque nationalism, returned to blowing up cars in crowded streets and killing people. And some thing else returned to Spain, the squares of Madrid and Pamplona. Crowds a million-strong walked arm in arm, expressing their disgust, horror and defiance. The Spanish people made their voices heard and, in so doing, immediately isolated the tiny straggle of terrorists. It won't end their campaign, to be sure: but it does create a political context which puts the greatest pressure on them. The people, massed, have that power.  I wonder, though, where the people of Northern Ireland have gone through these few glum weeks of slithering failure. I wonder (extrapolating) what the rest of the people of Britain think, if they care. For it is the people who have gone missing again, ruled themselves out of this eqation.   They were there once, with their candlelit vigils and their funeral marches as the killings echoed on. Many gallant individuals began movements then and still persevere. But where is the great shout of anger? Where are streets filled end to end with crowds who put peace first? Where is the pressure, the blessed pressure, for change?   Gerry Adams was talking the other day about "the undefeated army" of the IRA. It wasn't a popular line, one promptly rubbished by all the usual suspects. But it is also a clinically accurate description. The IRA was not defeated, any more than the British army and the RUC were defeated. Neither side was winning or losing: the struggle was just going on, for decade after decade, without point or possible outcome. If it is now renewed, as it may well eventually be, the years ahead will only be filled with more pointless violence. The IRA cannot win; but nor - as those who confront them admit under their breath - can the security forces. There is no easy fix of internment. There is no possibility of totally isolating the terrorists where a sectarian divide still yawns. No solution: just more of the same. You might as well say the Russian army has settled the Chechen problem by flattening Grozny. Dream on!  So where are the people in their own hour of need? There is no doubt how they feel or what they want, passively. They continue, for the most part, to vote along traditional lines. They haven't transplanted the old heart of Northern Irish politics.  They have accepted the reluctances of the Aremy Council with resignation and more depressingly, done little to disrupt activist distrust of the unionist Council which now, apparently, will circumscribe David Trimble's room for manoeuvre still more chokingly. They have, in sum, left hope to others they   decline to influence directly. Too harsh? Certainly in individual terms (see the tortured exhaustion of Seamus Mallon) but a collective judgment remains more problematical. If both Councils now feel the wind of outrage at their backs, then anything yet remains possible. But if there is no such manifest fury, then that in itself will deliver an awful truth.  Exit Mo, enter Mandy; exit, one day, Tony, enter who-can-say? The heirs of Wilson and Callaghan over the water will keep toiling on, biting their lips, hiding their real feelings because words out of place invoke inevitable furies. But peace, real peace, has to be craved for on the ground, sought as the highest prize. Peace isn't about symbols - a few machine guns or tons of Semtex given up in a hollow show of "disarmament" in Kosovo mode. New guns can always be bought, new obstacles found among the fudged clauses of diplomacy. Peace is determination to live together come what may. Peace isn't a minefield of ifs and buts - and sitting back while the vested interests carry on conniving. Peace has to be worked for.  A million Spaniards realise that. They walk for a purpose. It is a bleak thing to say, but there will be no lasting peace for Ireland until more millions throng the streets of Belfast and Dublin (and yes, Manchester and Birmingham too). This, 30 years on with nothing to show, is our challenge and our responsibility. And one day we shall have to acknowledge that by taking the prize for ourselves.