You won’t see Wolff’s picture on the evening news. But behind the scenes in Washington, where trade policy degenerates into competition among sharp-elbowed capitalists, the 53-year-old lawyer is the consummate power broker. Since leaving government in 1979, the Carter-era trade negotiator has specialized in pushing the problems of clients like Kodak to the top of the U.S. agenda. Free-trade purists consider him Mr. Protection. His fans praise him for facing down Japan. On one thing they agree. Says Rufus Yerxa, a former top U.S. trade official: “He’s a major factor in Washington trade policy.”

Kodak isn’t the first beneficiary of Wolff’s tactical skills. Since representing Japanese carmaker Nissan in 1980-“If I knew then what I know now, I would not have involved myself,” he says-Wolff has focused on U.S. clients. For the Semiconductor Industry Association, he won a novel pact that ensured U.S. companies a share of Japan’s chip market. He advises big steel-makers in their ongoing crusade against cheap imports. And he writes and lectures endlessly, detailing the intellectual case for fighting foreign subsidies and trade barriers. “I reject the idea that responding to market-distorting measures is protection-ism,” he insists. His line may be controversial, but it doesn’t vary with the client. “A lot of people in this business try to build a profile which distinguishes practice from persona,” says economist Gary Hufbauer. “In Alan’s case, it’s ‘I practice this and I believe it’ .”

‘Every lever’: Even when it means playing hardball, In 1993, Wolff manipulated his connections and his clients’ muscle to dictate key details of the 112-nation Uruguay Round trade agreement. For Big Steel, he demanded that U.S. negotiators win last-minute changes in rules on unfair trade. Then, on behalf of chipmakers, he threatened to oppose the pact in Congress unless a phrase was changed to offer better protection against foreign knockoffs. Silicon Valley congressmen ear-tied the issue to the White House, over the objections of U.S. diplomats. In the end, Wolff won-by drafting language to favor his chipmakers at drug manufacturers’ expense. “He used every lever at his disposal to make sure he got what nobody else got,” says a rival.

Until May, Kodak wasn’t even in the Clinton administration’s viewfinder. When George Fisher became chairman late in 1993, he learned that Kodak held 44 percent of the international film market but only 8 percent of Japan’s. Fisher, who’d fought for years to ship cell phones to Japan as CEO of Motorola, asked Wolff’s firm, Dewey Ballantine, to find an explanation. Quietly, to avoid Fuji’s notice, lawyer Thomas Howell and staff economist Brent Bartlett studied the photo-supply business in Japan. After analyzing credit reports and translating decades-old trade magazines, they concluded that Japan’s manufacturers had grabbed control over wholesaling and photo processing, building a cartel that kept Kodak film from reaching retail shelves.

No dry legal briefs here. Dewey Ballantine turned the research into a slick book, “Privatizing Protection.” Wolff then orchestrated the media. Fisher unveiled the volume May 31 at the National Press Club. Last Monday Wolff and Fisher took their case to The New York Times editorial board-and quickly won the free-trade-minded paper’s endorsement. Will Kantor decide to investigate further? Unlike the carmakers, Kodak has tried for years to sell in Japan. Many trade pros think its case is far stronger. And in Washington, nobody bets against Alan Wolff.