A suicide bombing in Tel Aviv, conducted during Passover and involving more casualties than any similar mission for more than a year, would, regardless of the wider circumstances, be an atrocity and a political event of enormous importance. That it follows recent parliamentary elections in the Palestinian Authority and Israel increases the salience of the matter. An outrage of this kind was always likely. There have been five in the past 12 months. It was less clear what the reaction would be of those in charge of the Palestinian leadership.

The response of Mahmoud Abbas, the Palestinian President, was swift and appropriate. He condemned it as a “terrorist attack” — which it is — and then observed, correctly, that no good would come of it. Mr Abbas has, however, been rendered a principally ceremonial individual after his Fatah party was beaten at the polls by Hamas in January. While Israeli ministers and citizens will be relieved that he has not decided to respond to that defeat by rashly adopting more militant rhetoric, ultimately it is the opinions and the deeds of those who command the actual power that counts for most.

And their voices will do nothing to revive the battered peace process. The instant declaration of a spokesman for the Hamas-controlled Ministry of the Interior was that the blast was a “legitimate” response to the situation that the Palestinians are in and that no remorse, let alone any regret, would be forthcoming. Others in the Hamas hierarchy were a little more opaque in presenting their views, but none echoed the robust language of Mr Abbas. If the incident was to be lamented at all, it was that it occurred less than three weeks after Hamas supporters took full power in the West Bank and Gaza Strip and so might not have had adequate time to prepare for any retaliation by the Israeli army.

This is hardly the basis for dialogue. It is argued by some that there has been a ceasefire of a kind between Israel and Hamas since February of last year and thus, with Northern Ireland as a precedent, negotiations with the Islamic militants is appropriate.

The analogy is fragile. Hamas grudgingly agreed to tolerate a ceasefire not because it wanted to think profoundly about its strategic and tactical goals but because Israel destroyed the top ranks of its terrorist network. It has been content to cheer on the suicide bombings executed by others. It is hard to believe that Britain could have bargained with Sinn Fein, and so by extension with the IRA, if every time that the Real or the Continuity IRA engaged in murder, an approving statement of their work was made by Gerry Adams. Yet these are the conditions under which Ehud Olmert, Israel’s interim, but soon to be official, Prime Minister, today finds himself working.

He would be wise to be measured in his actions. He should seek to target the political and “military” representatives of Hamas rather than the Palestinian population in whose name they choose to speak and to endorse appalling violence. Mr Olmert has so far shown a deft touch in striking the balance between defending Israel’s security yet not closing diplomatic avenues. He is right to insist that Israel will not reoccupy the Gaza Strip. Other states, though, must comply with civilised standards in what they demand of Israel. To suggest that Mr Olmert has talks with an administration that cannot bring itself to repudiate terrorism with any sincerity is utterly incredible.