The complaint is a familiar one: English is putting the squeeze on other languages and those who are getting squeezed don't like it. Up till now, this has been most noticeably a grievance of the French and the Germans. Three years ago, the French Finance Ministry even went so far as to issue government employees with a list of mandatory alternatives to common business- and technology-related Anglicisms. "Ordinateur," you may remember, was to do duty for "computer," "jeune pousse" (a young plant shoot) for "startup." No reports are available on whether this effort to stem the tide of English has succeeded. (Interpretation: It probably hasn't.)

What we also recall is that, at the time, Japan appeared less ruffled than Europe by its own English-language invasion; in fact, a government panel had actually recommended making English the country's official second language. Even though that proposal went nowhere, it didn't cause much of a public stir. Far from wanting to erect a wall to keep English out, Japanese seemed more concerned with finding ways to both teach and learn it better.

Lately, though, there has been a shift of emphasis, and it is largely attributable to Prime Minister Junichiro Koizumi. Last May, the prime minister reportedly erupted in irritation after listening to a presentation from his telecommunications minister that was so stuffed with English loanwords as to be almost incomprehensible -- or so Mr. Koizumi said. The word "back-office" drew his particular ire. "What does 'back-office' mean?" he wanted to know. "If I don't understand it, how will ordinary people?"