Establishment man reluctant to rock the boat

Lord Butler was a surprise choice to probe the Iraq furore, dismissed by some as an establishment figure who would produce a whitewash.

In fact, he was a more balanced choice - uniquely qualified by experience to find out the truth, but instinctively averse to provoking a crisis with his findings.

Any expectation that the former mandarin would cause heads to roll among his old colleagues was doused within days when Lord Butler announced that his report would not seek to blame the "actions of individuals" but focus on "structures, systems and processes".

As former Cabinet secretary, Lord Butler knows well the men at the heart of the apparent intelligence fiasco. Indeed, he promoted some of them.

He served five prime ministers at close quarters and was regarded as one of the most powerful Cabinet secretaries of modern times. He was nearly killed with Baroness Thatcher when the IRA blew up the Grand Hotel in Brighton in 1984.

Of them all, he appeared most comfortable with John Major, who shared his love of cricket.

In the decade before he retired to collect a clutch of honours and a seat in the Lords, he was dragged into a string of controversies, including the Arms-to-Iraq Inquiry in the mid-Nineties, another furore involving intelligence about Saddam Hussein's regime and alleged Government deception.

Challenged about an arguably misleading Commons answer, the mandarin lapsed into Sir Humphrey-speak: "It was accurate but incomplete," he said. 'The purpose of it was to give an answer which itself was true. It did not give the full picture. It was half an answer."

He added: "It is not justified to mislead, but very often one is finding oneself in a position where you have to give an answer that is not the whole truth." He attacked the press for "undermining our system of government" by "distorted and prejudicial allegations".

Some Labour MPs criticised Mr Blair for making him Iraq inquisitor on those grounds alone. Who would believe him if he found nobody guilty?

Other critics question his alleged failure to get to the bottom of sleaze allegations during the Major years. Lord Butler interviewed Jonathan Aitken, later jailed for perjury, and found no proof of wrongdoing.

Away from the spotlight, Lord Butler is relaxed and unofficious. Even at the height of his career, he was a regular at the Brixton lido, mixing anonymously with other bathers.

He was born in Lancashire in 1938, son of the MD of a paint firm. From boyhood, he excelled in his studies and sport.

Winning a scholarship to Harrow School, he became head boy. At Oxford he won two rugby blues and graduated with a double first. He is now Master of his alma mater, University College, helped by his wife of 42 years, Gillian. They have a son and two daughters.

In the civil service entrance exams of 1961, Lord Butler came top and joined the Treasury where he soared through the ranks and after a decade was made Edward Heath's private secretary, remaining when Harold Wilson took office.

After a seven-year spell back at the Treasury, he returned to No 10 to work for Lady Thatcher. His request for her to look "at one last paper" at 3am kept her out of her bedroom as the IRA bomb that would have killed her exploded.

Six years later, as Cabinet Secretary, he was in the room when an IRA mortar bomb blew open the French windows. In a rare undignified moment he flung himself on the floor, expecting gunmen to burst in.

He also saw first hand the damage inflicted on MI5 when the 1994 Mull of Kintyre helicopter crash killed many of its Northern Ireland experts.

Such experiences build an intimacy between those affected and an admiration for the fragile circle responsible for the nation's safety. Lord Butler would not willingly hurt them.