ON JUNE 27th one member of the establishment shook hands with another. In a tightly policed event, the queen met Martin McGuinness, deputy first minister of Northern Ireland and a former commander in the Irish Republican Army—the outfit that killed Lord Mountbatten, the queen's close relative, in 1979. Mr McGuinness stressed beforehand that he was still a devoted republican, and hinted that he regarded the queen as a foreign presence in Northern Ireland. But the rebel stance ill suits such a successful, mainstream politician.

The IRA and its weapons have been decommissioned. Sinn Fein, once the terrorist group's political wing, formally supports the police. Republican splinter groups still kill coppers and drug dealers, but rarely—and Mr McGuinness condemns them as “traitors to the island of Ireland”. Strangest of all, Sinn Fein has become part of a governing coalition in Northern Ireland that is so stable as to verge on the boring. The Northern Ireland Assembly was set up in 1998 as a power-sharing body that balanced the interests of unionists (who want to remain attached to Britain) and nationalists (who want a united Ireland). To begin with that meant the two moderate parties that had backed the peace process: the Ulster Unionist Party and the Social Democratic and Labour Party. But Sinn Fein's share of the vote has risen steadily, from 17.6% in 1998 to 26.9% in 2011. These days the once-extreme group is by far the biggest nationalist party in the legislature (see chart). On the unionist side, the Ulster Unionist Party has been supplanted by the Democratic Unionist Party, founded by the Rev Ian Paisley, which once fervently opposed the peace process. Early predictions that Sinn Fein and the Democratic Unionist Party would be unable to work together have proved spectacularly wrong. Mr McGuinness developed a cosy working relationship with Mr Paisley, and now enjoys a similarly close one with his successor, Peter Robinson, the unionist first minister. Two days before his meeting with the queen, Mr McGuinness was closeted with Mr Robinson, jointly pressing British ministers for a reduction in the corporation tax. If leading politicians from the two big parties speak angrily of each other, they do it behind closed doors. Junior members are allowed to take potshots at the other party, but these are not allowed to develop into substantial disputes. Indeed, smaller parties complain that the Democratic Unionist Party and Sinn Fein operate a system of political carve-up, jointly reaching decisions or deciding what matters to postpone. Still, voters seem to approve. Other parties have been pummelled at the polls: the Ulster Unionist Party has gone from ten MPs in Westminster to none.

The Democratic Unionist Party and Sinn Fein are conspicuously better than the other parties at finding jobs for bright young things and spreading experience through their ranks. Many of their executive ministers are rotated after a few years in the job. On June 11th Sinn Fein announced that members who were elected both to Westminster and the Assembly—a situation known as “double jobbing”—would give up one of their posts. This will create more salaried positions.

The meeting between Mr McGuinness and the queen is a good example of how politics now proceeds. The Northern Ireland Office planned a big open-air party in the grounds of Stormont, the seat of the Assembly, to celebrate the queen's Jubilee. The prospect of meeting the queen in front of 10,000 cheering royalists offended republican sensibilities, and Sinn Fein balked. Then a cross-border charity, Co-operation Ireland, announced that it would host an event for the queen. In a carefully choreographed move, Sinn Fein announced it would attend—but stressed that the event was unconnected to the Jubilee.

A few years ago unionist politicians would have screamed that Sinn Fein was showing a lack of respect for the monarch. Not so this time. Mr Robinson quietly co-operated with the compromise and agreed to go along to the event with Mr McGuinness. It is all extremely cosy. What the queen herself made of this elaborate dance, or what she feels about Mr McGuinness, nobody is saying.