When Mr William Clay Ford Junior became chairman of the world's second-largest car-maker almost three years ago, one of the first calls to his office was from Turin. Mr Giovanni Agnelli, the family patriarch of Fiat, was ringing to congratulate Bill (as he prefers to be known) on his promotion.

The reaction down the corridor at Ford's headquarters in Michigan was less enthusiastic. Lord Alex Trotman, the departing chairman and chief executive, disagreed. "So now you have your monarchy back, Prince William," executives recall him telling Mr Ford.

At the time, Ford's board compromised by giving Mr Ford the chairmanship while handing the role of chief executive to Lord Trotman's favourite, Mr Jac Nasser. This week, Mr Ford was at last crowned head of Ford Motor Company. After months of speculation, Mr Nasser opted to "retire" last week, ending a fraught power-sharing arrangement.

At 44, Mr Ford has become the first family member in a generation to lead the company. According to colleagues, he took no pleasure in removing his controversial chief executive. But Mr Nasser paid the price for a series of mishaps that have dented Ford's share price and profitability over the past 12 months.

Mr Nasser could probably have survived challenges such as fierce price competition and falling profits in the crucial US light truck sector. But he unnerved the Ford family with his handling of other issues: notably a $3 billion recall of allegedly faulty Firestone tyres. Mr Ford found the furore painful, since his mother hails from the Firestone family that founded the tyre-maker.

Mr Nasser, moreover, mishandled relations with employees, unions and dealers in the US. Despite public avowals of harmony, differences between the publicity-conscious, Princeton-educated Ford scion and his rough-cut, Lebanese-Australian chief executive led Ford into management paralysis.

The news that family shareholders, who control 40 per cent of the voting stock, were reasserting themselves was greeted with caution on Wall Street. But it was acclaimed at One American Road, Ford's home address in the Detroit suburb of Dearborn. Mr Ford received a standing ovation when he announced the shake-up to employees.

"Jeez, you'd think the Lions had won a game," said the new chairman and chief executive. Like Ford, the Detroit Lions have had a miserable couple of months, failing to notch up a single win in the NFL. Like the car-maker, the Lions are controlled by the Ford family - Mr Ford is vice-chairman.

"That one-liner demonstrated by itself Bill's style and self-deprecating approach," according to one executive. However, another manager likened his reception to an "organised party rally".

On one thing, at least, Ford insiders agree: the chairman has made an art form of communicating the family's interest with a caring, populist paternalism.

Much has been made of his decision to dash down to a plant site after a horrific explosion at the Rouge facility in Dearborn killed six workers in 1999, just weeks after he became chairman. Those same instincts were on display this week. Addressing employees, he said: "I love this place - I bleed Ford-blue."

Despite considerable personal wealth, the Ford chairman has defined that consensual approach with a personal style, devoid of airs and graces. It is a winning formula among Ford workers and in the broader Michigan community. He sees himself as a Detroit man - albeit raised in the wealthy suburb of Grosse Pointe - with blue-collar passions for ice hockey, football and fishing.

He has also pleased a wider audience outside the industry by insisting that it must pay more attention to environmental concerns. He has raised questions about the fuel consumption of sports utility vehicles. Before he can implement changes, however, he will have to solve pressing issues on capacity, productivity and vehicle quality.

Mr Ford has also to prove that he is not green in another sense. Some analysts question his industry qualifications and one rival chairman last week described Mr Nasser's departure as "a cruel mistake".

It would be wrong, however, to cast Mr Ford as a dilettante. Before joining the board in 1995, he held 17 different jobs at the carmaker - including country manager in Switzerland, director of product planning and head of climate control. More importantly, he established his own network - outside the normal channels - for meeting and debating with Ford employees.

Alluding to the 20-hour days of the Nasser era, one colleague predicts: "Bill will not be calling meetings at 8 p.m. or jetting off at every opportunity to far-flung corners of the Ford empire. But he has built links with people up and down the organisation who give him an insight into how things really are."

Another aide compares him with President Bush "in the sense his family propelled him forward and no one had great expectations. But then a crisis revealed his true ability."

Like Bush, Mr Ford is expected to delegate more than his predecessor, relying on a highly qualified management team to execute his strategy. Sir Nick Scheele, a Briton who formerly headed Ford in Europe, has been appointed as chief operating officer.

Unlike Mr Bush, the Ford chairman does not have a limited term to make his mark. "One of the great strengths we have is the relationship with the Ford family," he said in an interview last year.

"We are not going to be hit by corporate raiders or sell out to another company in my lifetime. In fact, I'm going to be here until they drag me out feet first."