Whatever is the opposite of annus horriblis? How would the Queen’s speechwriters have put it? As Latin scholars reach for their dictionaries, the Belgian Anglophile Paul Buysse needs no reminding that 1998 was undoubtedly the most remarkable year in his career to date. Having left the conglomerate BTR plc in somewhat strained circumstances at the beginning of the year, within a few months he had been approached by Sir Colin Chandler to ask if he would consider heading up Vickers, the troubled defence and engineering group. Barely eight weeks later the Belgian King Albert II conferred the Hereditary Title of Baron upon him. An honour promptly followed by the award of Honorary Commander of the Civil Division of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire. A bit of a mouthful, admittedly, but one which meant that by the autumn of 1998 Baron Paul Buysse CBE, Chief Executive of Vickers plc was sitting behind his desk at Vickers House with a rather contented look on his face. But well aware that he had a rather daunting brief before him.

Vickers has long been known throughout the world as steel makers, ship builders, engineers and aircraft manufacturers. Since the 1880s the company has been at the heart of the national armament industry – the story of Vickers an important part of the history of British arms and British industry. During both world wars the company was a major supplier of defence equipment, its most famous product the Spitfire, which first soared into the skies in 1936. So, at the risk of sounding more than trifle chauvinistic, how on earth did a Belgian come to be its CEO, CBE though he be?

"I don’t think that the company was looking for a Belgian as such", the Belgian Baron replies in flawless English, "or any other nationality for that matter. Having gone through some major restructuring Vickers were looking for an experienced international executive – someone with a track record of turning companies around, someone in pursuit of basic elements like profitable growth."

It soon became clear, however, that Buysse’s brand of medicine might well need a spoonful or two of sugar to help it go down. For his first report was littered with phrases such as reductions in overheads, improving margins, streamlining costs and, most ominously of all for those employees looking on a little nervously from afar, trimming the company’s payroll by over 20%.

"As a Belgian I already knew of Vickers very well", Buysse explains over a working lunch of chicken and ham sandwiches and diet Coke. "Did you know that over 70% of all of the ships, guns and equipment used in the d-day landings came from Vickers? So if Belgium is a free country today it’s partly thanks to the infrastructure that supported the armies coming into Belgium towards the end of the war. I also happen to have a love of England and Anglo-Saxon culture. I have lived in this country for the best part of twenty years and I feel comfortable here. Its difficult to define precisely why when its so much based on feeling – but I guess its a combination of culture, tradition, history and civilisation. In fact when I met Sir Colin in our previous headquarters on the 29^th floor of Millbank Towers in London to discuss the possibility of my coming to Vickers I remember looking down on the Houses of Parliament, Whitehall, Big Ben and so on – and being very moved by the view before me. My mind was made up long before we had discussed the precise terms and conditions."

For someone so keenly aware of European history, what then might be his view of the British Foreign Secretary Robin Cook’s new policy that, in order to reduce the possibility of offending German sensibilities, it might perhaps be best to embrace Basil Fawlty’s well-known maxim and ‘don’t mention the war’. "Well, I don’t agree with such an approach at all", he replies, clearly struggling to restrain himself from blurting out the word rubbish. "I have 5 children", the 54-year-old boss continues, "one boy of 8, one of 29 – with three daughters in between. One of my duties in life is to explain to my children what has happened in history. I don’t think that we can afford to stop talking about what happened in Europe just 50 years ago. In fact that’s precisely the time when people tend to forget what happens and history repeats itself."

"But isn’t the world of armaments, tanks and war a rather unsavoury business to be involved in", I enquire a little tentatively, not least on the grounds that the large, sprawling frame of the Belgian Baron makes him appear at least twice my size. Wouldn’t want to rub him up the wrong way, would we now?

"Civis patrem para bellum" (?), Buysse blurts out, his interviewer mightily relieved that his only ammo appears to be another round of Latin, albeit rapidly fired. ‘If you like peace – prepare yourself for war.’ I don’t have a problem in supplying arms to a country that is seeking to defend democracy. I have often seen that weakness leads to the destruction of democracy. There is nothing wrong in seeking to protect democratic institutions – and the vast majority of our orders are either to the Ministry of Defence here – or within NATO, or NATO related activity. Our Challenger 1 tanks proved to be extremely effective in the liberation of Kuwait and I am extremely proud of that."

One more swig of Diet Coke before pressing Buysse a little further. Belgian courage if you will.

"Are you saying, then, that you would hesitate before supplying your new Challenger 2E tanks to a particularly unpleasant regime with a poor track record on human rights".

"That’s exactly what I am saying. But do remember that we are not just a defence company. Defence systems are but one of our three divisions – the other two being Turbine components and marine propulsion. Less sexy, I know, but extremely important businesses in their own right."

No degree is psychology is required to realise that Buysse is a passionate man. Having graduated from the University of Antwerp – his home town – he rapidly worked his way up through the ranks at Ford, where he spent just over a decade. By 1987 he was headhunted by BTR to run one of their ailing subsidiaries called Hansen Transmissions and where he was set stretching annual targets for growth and profitability. He complained loudly but beat each and every target. It came as no surprise when, four years later, he was invited to join the main board. Buysse is so convinced that passion and emotion and key elements in making an enterprise function effectively that he wasted no time in introducing his theories to Vickers, promptly organising a company conference on the subject for 90 senior managers and directors, and bemusing many of them in the process.

"But don’t you think, Sir", one executive bravely piped up, that this business of passion is not terribly British."

"Maybe", Buysse replied. "But just because it’s not terribly British doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be there."

And whereupon, at Buysse insistence, a new company slogan was unanimously endorsed – ‘Vickers – a passion for excellence’.

Buysse also appears to have a passion for mergers and acquisitions. For even though he has still to celebrate the first anniversary of his new posting, he has already notched up two significant deals. The first with France’s Giat Industries, which makes LeClerc tanks, to pool expertise in design, marketing and development. And the second, the recent £346m acquisition of the Norwegian marine-propulsion company Ulstein. When Ulstein is fitted with KaMeWa, Vickers’ own marine-propulsion division, the enlarged company will be the biggest manufacturer in the sector. Nor are their many complaints emanating from Scandinavia, where many observers have pointed out that Vickers disposed of the jewel in the crown of the British motor industry – Rolls Royce – only to head for Sunnmore to acquire the Ulstein technology group.

When in London Buysse packs in the hours. In some respects it is easier for him because his lawyer-wife and children are waiting for him in Antwerp at weekends. A rather daunting double life? Not at all, Buysse will tell you. He leaves his Antwerp home on Monday morning at 7.30 am and is in his London office by 8.30. True, he is the grateful beneficiary of an hour’s time difference – but point taken. Once home, however – and wherever home might happen to be – Buysse has not the slightest difficulty in cutting off from the cut and thrust of business dealings. In fact he believes it is vitally important to do so – to immerse oneself in the arts, theatre, music and so on. And, as if to adduce evidence of what a culture vulture he is, he plucks off a book from his shelf. It is Voltaire’s Letters on England, written way back at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Just have a look at what the writer has to say about those who embark upon a business career, he insists. Its all there on page 52.

"..in France anyone is a Marquis who wants to be...and loftily despise a business man, and the business man so often hears people speak disparagingly of his profession that he is foolish enough to blush. Yet I wonder which is the more useful to a nation – a well-powdered nobleman who knows exactly at what minute the King gets up and goes to bed, and who gives himself grand airs while playing the part of a slave in some Minister’s antechamber – or a business man who enriches his country, issues orders from his office to Surat or Cairo, and contributes to the well-being of the world".

"That’s the real test", Buysse concludes, putting the book down approvingly. "That’s the only real test."

Which leaves one wondering, of course, what the Belgian King would make of all that.