The many-handed Mr Eizenstat

HE IS, says a friend who means him well, the wonk's wonk: he likes meetings; he likes memos; he likes detail. He holds court with typed notes laid out on the table before him, a stack of manila folders by his side, pen cocked, voice bureaucratic. His idea of fun, says a member of his staff, is to read and underline briefing papers. But he is no ordinary drone. He is, in the words of another colleague, “a national treasure”.