It is easier to admire Peter Robinson than like him. The professional skill he employed to deliver the deal at the eleventh hour of the tenth day of tortuous negotiation was estimable.
It was equally impressive how he turned the 40pc of his party objecting to his proposals on Monday to unanimous support on Thursday night.
And with an election looming, looking through that narrow DUP prism, it is easy to see why he declined Martin McGuinness' hand after yesterday's historic agreement.
Mr Robinson, the consummate local politician, was more concerned with his own hillbillies than the people who didn't vote for him or the DUP. Yet a bigger man with better manners wouldn't describe a handshake with an opponent on such a momentous occasion as a gimmick.
It would not have impressed US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and the US ambassador who lined up alongside the great and good of Europe to heap praise on him for delivering the deal.
The Taoiseach and the British prime minister also lavished approval on Mr Robinson's talent as a political tactician and strategist.
But affectionate anecdotes were significantly absent from the tributes paid to Mr Robinson yesterday.
Yes, he has a charisma deficit but he is very intelligent and is a tough negotiator who gets things done.
While he was caught in the dazzle of scandal following revelations about his wife Iris's fling with a teenager and her financial shenanigans, there was some sympathy for him. But feeling sorry for someone embarrassed in a mess not of their own making is very different from identifying with a likeable individual.
And whatever else they say about his intelligence, skill and shrewdness, few have ever described Mr Robinson as "nice", "warm" or "friendly".
While the DUP sulked behind closed doors over the past 10 days and Mr Robinson choreographed their delaying tactics, a large number of people in the North grew embarrassed and angry.
Mr Robinson and his colleagues dismissed them as the posh people of 'BT9' -- the postal code of a leafy suburb of Belfast like Dublin's D4. "They don't vote for the DUP, so why worry about them," say DUP activists. Yet the Robinsons live in great comfort with an income of nearly £600,000 (€686,000) last year plus a further £158,000 (€180,000) in expenses to pay staff.
The DUP had no philosophical opposition to devolving policing and justice back to the North; they objected because Sinn Fein wanted it badly.
And Peter Robinson is caught in a bind: his unfettered ambition wants him to be first minister but his basic instinct is to keep nationalists and republicans in their place. Like most DUP folk, he sees little difference between the SDLP and Sinn Fein and treats them both with unrelenting suspicion and barely disguised disdain.
In less than four weeks he has come through a blistering personal scandal where he had to stand aside from his office as first minister to triumphant leader delivering the agreement yesterday.
Many of the DUP's supporters don't like the deal with Sinn Fein but know they must accept it -- and after he has delivered it, Mr Robinson might be sent home to spend more time with his family.
Or go on to become Northern Ireland's F W De Klerk, only less likeable than the Nobel laureate Afrikaner.