European Times Bonn: The buttoned-up menswear boss who couldn't be casual

IT IS dangerous to address people with the informal "du" in Germany. Language books printed 30 years ago tell you that the word is confined to children and the intimacy of family life. That is no longer absolutely true, but permission must still be sought before using the explosive pronoun, if one is to avoid complications.

In the wrong hands, and pointed at the wrong target, "du" can cause severe damage to a German's self-esteem. The law clearly states, for instance, that a careless "du" lobbed in the direction of a policeman is an offence punishable by a fine. In the army, an officer assaulting a conscript with "du" may face a court-martial. And, as a shop assistant has just demonstrated, misuse of the word can poison the work environment, sow the seeds of mistrust between friendly nations, and undermine the constitutional order of the Federal Republic of Germany.

To be fair to Reinhard Weniger, the hero of this tale, he is no mere shop assistant. He has worked hard to get where he is today. Aged 45, Mr Weniger exults in his official title of "Abteilungsleiter" - Department Head. He is ruler of all he surveys at the Menswear section of the Rheine branch of the Hennes & Mauritz fashion chain, and therefore entitled to a bit of respect. No whipper-snapper should get too familiar, he insists.

"I am not a youngster," the earnest Abteilungsleiter has declared. "Pretending to be a trendy youth is not my style." He is not asking much; merely to be addressed in the formal manner.

The trouble is that Mr Weniger is under orders from his company to get casual, and that has driven him to the brink of a nervous breakdown. Nearly two years ago, the man formerly known as Reinhard went on sick leave, citing psychological trauma brought on by a surfeit of the word "du" at his workplace. He would come back to the shop tomorrow, if only his colleagues could muster the occasional "Sie" in Herr Weniger's presence.

But they are not allowed to. For Hennes & Mauritz is a cool Swedish firm, at the forefront of the linguistic revolution at home that seeks to exterminate "Ni", the Swedish equivalent of "Sie". When the company turned up in Germany in 1980, it brought the "du" crusade with it. "Sie" is verboten in all its shops, even in the presence of the bosses.

Mr Weniger's life turned upside down when the musty German shop he was working at was taken over by the Swedes in March 1996. Abruptly, centuries- old social conventions were discarded and staff of every rank had to get used to the new grammar. The king of Menswear knuckled under, and for nine months gave as many "dus" as he got. Then, something snapped. He could take it no more, and has been on sick-leave since December 1996.

But not idle. This being Germany, Mr Weniger hired a lawyer and sought to recover his lost "Sie" in the courts. A tribunal in his home town rejected the case. Then he appealed to a higher court in the town of Hamm. The final verdict was announced last week: company tradition and philosophy took precedence over employees' whims, ruled the judges. Furthermore, the firm did not have to submit to a vote at the staff council.

So much for Germany's much-vaunted workplace democracy. Companies have the power, it seems, to order their employees to relax. Any subordinate who refuses to get familiar with his or her boss could be labelled a dangerous anarchist. No German is safe any more from mateyness.

Once again, foreigners get the blame for the sad decline in standards of decency. "We are not living in the land of the Vikings," Mr Weniger's lawyer had argued, unsuccessfully. For the Barbarians are gathering outside the factory gates, and their alien ways are set to shatter the iron rules that bind German society together in its chains. Most Anglo-Saxon firms are less dogmatic than Hennes & Mauritz, but "Sie" in almost all of them is on its way out.

At Marks & Spencer in Cologne, for instance, "du" is encouraged, though employees who cannot abide by it are allowed to stick to "Sie". The giant Ford factory in Cologne, which employs a large number of British and American managers, has found a clever compromise. "Sie" survives, but the majority of Ford staff are on first-name terms.

Elsewhere, though, "du" is X-rated. In Hollywood movies dubbed into German, lovers "Sie" each other until the moment their passion is consummated. Thereafter, verbs are suddenly conjugated in the informal fashion. I have often wondered whether this mirrors real life, but have always been afraid to ask.

The one notable sanctuary from rigid grammar in the purely German setting is the cockpit. Lufthansa cabin staff are encouraged to conduct their conversations in "du" form, because in life-threatening situations "Sie" - also meaning "they" in the appropriate verb ending - might lead to a fatal misunderstanding.

Back in the Menswear section, however, all that is irrelevant. Mr Weniger feels deprived and demeaned, and wants redress. His next port of call may be the Constitutional Court, whose sacred task it is to safeguard the dignity of citizens.