GERRY ADAMS UNDER THE GUN

By BARRY HILLENBRAND/BELFAST

THE RALLY WAS JUST WHAT GERRY Adams needed to lift his spirits. When he was introduced to 300 supporters crammed into a community center in West Belfast, they all jumped to their feet, cheering, clapping and whistling. Standing in front of a black wall with real negotiations now written on it in bold white letters, Adams launched into a long speech attacking the British for bad faith and pleading for renewed efforts to bring peace to Northern Ireland. His mood was feisty and buoyant.

Six days after an I.R.A. bomb killed two people in London , the leader of Sinn Fein, the political wing of the Irish Republican Army, was on the hustings, attempting to salvage his credibility as a peacemaker. As well he might. After the I.R.A. declared its cease-fire in August 1994, it was Adams who traipsed the world, telling the likes of Nelson Mandela in Johannesburg and Bill Clinton in Washington that violence had been banished from Ulster politics. The cease-fire, he insisted, was "complete." Peace talks could begin without the fear of I.R.A. guns under the table. Now the bombing in London has contradicted all that and raised troublesome questions. Does Adams approve of the I.R.A.'S return to terrorism? Was he to be trusted in the first place? Assuming he has been sincere, has the I.R.A. overruled his peace initiative, effectively sidelining him?

Last week the disconcerted leader dashed from meeting to meeting, explaining his position. He was on the phone endlessly to London, Dublin and Washington. He told anyone who would listen that he had not known in advance about the bomb or the I.R.A.'s decision to end the cease-fire. When journalists called him with the news, he was at home in Belfast eating fish and chips and resting after a trip to Washington and a few days spent going to and from Dublin. "It was a very traumatic evening," he told Time.

In his statements Adams distanced Sinn Fein from the attack, saying responsibility must rest with the I.R.A. But he refused to condemn the I.R.A. directly. To do so would violate the republican code of honor and mean the end of his relationship with the movement. Rather, Adams set out to explain the reasons why--regrettably--the I.R.A. had returned to violence. "Everybody knew that the British government was involved in brinkmanship and the cease-fire was ready to pop at any time," he said. "The British broke the commitments they made when the I.R.A. agreed to the cease-fire. They promised all-party talks, but after 18 months we got nothing." The British have insisted that the I.R.A. start to disarm before talks in which Sinn Fein is formally included begin, but the I.R.A. has refused, and negotiations have been stalled over this point for months.

Although Adams dosed his speech at the community center with anti-British vitriol, the main thrust of his activities in recent days has been an attempt to put the peace process back on track. Adams believes the I.R.A. would declare a new cease-fire if all-party talks were firmly scheduled. Once the proper negotiating package is put together, says Adams, "the I.R.A. will see it quite clearly and renew the cease-fire."

But it may not be as simple as that. The I.R.A. agreed to the first cease-fire because Adams, with help from the Irish government and John Hume, the leader of Northern Ireland's Social Democratic and Labour Party, convinced the I.R.A. that political negotiations could achieve results. Just what the I.R.A. is thinking now and what influence Adams has is a puzzle. A senior White House official says, "The key question is, What is Adams' current relationship with the I.R.A.? No one knows that."

Adams claims the I.R.A. still trusts his judgment. Some sources with close contacts to the I.R.A. argue that he was deliberately kept in the dark about the bombings so that he could claim ignorance and remain the acceptable face of Irish republicanism. For the moment, Adams is still an important--and perhaps indispensable--part of the peace process. Says Alex Attwood, a Belfast city councilor representing a ward in Roman Catholic West Belfast: "Adams and his first- line managers are the best and the brightest. People may not like them, but they need to be sustained if we are going to secure peace."

Still, Adams has been stung by the fierce backlash from the bomb. The Irish and British governments have banned all high-level contacts with him and Sinn Fein until the cease-fire is restored. The Americans have not gone that far, but they will soon have to face a tough decision if Adams applies for a visa to visit the U.S. Clinton's decision to grant Adams his first visa, in February 1994, was an enormous step in giving him international stature. The Administration says it will base its decision on the results of Adams' efforts to restart the peace process.

Adams is not the only one working at that task, of course. The bomb did jolt the parties out of their negotiating lethargy. In recent days Dublin and London have been working together closely--and vigorously--to sort out the torrent of complicated proposals for conferences, referendums, elections and talks that have come from all sides. Everyone seems to have a Northern Ireland peace plan. British Prime Minister John Major and Irish Prime Minister John Bruton hope to meet next week to propose a new schedule for getting talks under way. Whether Sinn Fein and Adams will be included depends very much on the I.R.A. Some sources in Belfast were suggesting that the Docklands bombing was a one-off operation to express dissatisfaction with the slow pace of negotiations, but last week another I.R.A. bomb was discovered in the West End of London. It was much smaller than the Docklands device and was disarmed by security forces before it could explode.

If more bombs do go off in Britain--or if sectarian killings resume in Northern Ireland--it will be very difficult to see the way forward to a permanent settlement. Yet the mood in Northern Ireland has clearly shifted toward peace. "There has been a sea change here," insists Denis Faul, a Catholic priest who was involved in ending the I.R.A. hunger strikes in 1981. "Three years ago we would have been slagging each other off over a bombing like the one in London. But now everyone is talking about maintaining the peace. The days of the paramilitaries are numbered. No one wants to go back to war."

Last week 1,000 students held a candlelight vigil for peace in Belfast. Similar rallies, attended by both Protestants and Catholics, are now almost daily occurrences around Northern Ireland. Yet the I.R.A. may not be listening and may be steadily moving toward a wider campaign of terrorism. Having in their view given Adams and his political methods a chance, they may well have concluded that a return to a military struggle is the best way to achieve republican goals. In which case Adams becomes irrelevant, and the people of England and Ireland are in for some dangerous times.

--With reporting by Tony Connelly/Dublin and Lewis M. Simons/Washington

With reporting by TONY CONNELLY/DUBLIN AND LEWIS M. SIMONS/WASHINGTON