Belgium Defined (Source Unknown)
January 6th, 2007
Belgium is a relatively new nation. It achieved its nationhood in 1830, after centuries of occupation and invasion by the Romans, the French, the Burgundians, the Spanish, the Austrians and finally the Dutch. Independence was won through a revolution triggered by an opera. Not much blood, if any, was spilled. The Belgian Revolution may lack the heart-stopping panache of the French Revolution, but the Belgians have always opted for moderation at the expense of a place in the history books.
The Belgium population is 10 million, divided into two main language groups with about 6 million Dutch (formerly called Flemish) speakers and 4 million French speakers (plus 67,000 German speakers living on the German border). During the 1990s Belgium was virtually divided into two federal states, Dutch-speaking Flanders and French-speaking Wallonia, stitched together by national government and the capital city of Brussels - a mainly French speaking bubble surrounded by Flemish territory. A common complaint is that there are no Belgians any more - there are only Walloons and Flemings (totally wrong because there are some one million North African and Turkish Moslems). This is a country that is neither rooted in history nor defined by language. Today nationalism refers to a fervor not for Belgium, but for Flanders or Wallonia. Emotions can run very high, especially at the muddy interface along the border - their respective emblems, the Walloon’s cock and the Flemish lion, could well be pictured trying to claw each other’s eyes out. At times the very future of Belium seems in doubt. Belgium is probably the only country that wonders if it even exists. There are few slender threads holding the nation together: the royal family, the ‘Red Devils’ (the national football team), Catholicism, Tintin. The big question is whether Belgian nationhood will be preserved and if so for how long.
The Belgians have the reputation of being dull. The curious and endearing characteristic of the Belgians is that they do not rise to the bait that this labeling imposes. Let other nations crow; the cock that crows loudest will be the first for the pot. Those who scoff should beware: Belgian things are becoming fashionable, and not just the chocolates and the beer. Visitors to Belgium are discovering with surprise the genius of Belgian cousines, the genuine welcome of Belgian hospitality, the brilliance of the art, the odd chateau tucked away in the countryside, the fashion designers who have risen to international stardom,… The Belgians in their quiet, undemonstrative way seem to have got many things just about right. Reports published by the United Nations have rated Belgium the best place to live in the European Union, and the fifth most prosperous country in the world (after Norway, Australia, Canada and Sweden), facts which came as a shock to the Belgians who claim such accolades are not justified.
The Belgians are ready to belittle themselves as a nation. They tend to describe their country as being flat and small - in fact, it is neither that small, nor that flat. Even Leopold II, the towering 19th century King of the Belgians, once famously dismissed his nation as ‘petit pay, petites gens’ (small country, small-minded people).
The French-speaking Wallonia of the south, with its heavy industries was, not until a long time ago, the undisputed master of Belgium. However, as the old heavy industries collapsed, the boot is now on the other foot. The Dutch-speaking Flanders, after centuries of being kicked around by the French-speaking Belgians, are now, with their new light industries and the ports facilities in the north, as well as tourism, the undisputed masters. Flanders is now ranked as one of the most prosperous regions in Europe, a leader in information technology, pharmaceuticals and electrical industries. To the Flemish they are now the stars and do little to conceal their glee. On the other hand, the French-speaking Belgians are passing through troubled times, …they have lost power and they have lost the initiative. The Flemish think of themselves as hardworking, honest and dependable, while the Walloons see themselves oppressed, as being between a rock and a hard place. The French-speaking Bruxellois see themselves as even more threatened. Encircled by Flanders, they find that the Flemish want to make Brussels the capital of Flanders, despite the fact that the majority of Bruxellois are French-speaking.
In contrast to the complexities of intercommunal strife within their own country, the Belgians are admirably tolerant of other nations in a most natural fashion. They are remarkably magnanimous toward those who conquered and overrun them. Nevertheless, the French-speaking Belgians would hate to be French and the Dutch-speaking Belgians to be Dutch. For the Belgians, who are happy to holiday in France and would not dream of drinking wine from anywhere else, consider the French are not just haughty and disdainful, but they are particularly haughty and disdainful about the Belgians; as for the Dutch, they are considered unforgivably mean and puritanical, eat poorly, dress eccentricly, culturally inept when travelling abroad and drive badly.
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1 Comment Add your own
1. b8fish | January 7th, 2007 at 4:17 am
In the mid-1970’s I spent 3 months “on assignment”, from my home in London, in Brussels with ITT and liked the place so much I started looking for a permanent job there. It was not to be. I ended up in the the US and do not regret that - especially now that Belgian beer is available on the supermarket shelves:) I remember my local watering hole was a small brasserie right next to the Mannekin Pis, just off the Grande Place. I played dice and dined finely there then.
I introduced my daughter and son-in-law to the wonders of Belgian beer a few years ago, and then we all took a trip to London, with 2-day excursion to Brussels made possible by the Channel Tunnel. We found, as my daughter called it, “beer ground-zero” as we quaffed draught Lambic at La Mort Subite. My wife, Sallie, an aleurophile, was also captivated by the pub cat, Choupetit, a nondescript brown tabby.
We also enjoyed visiting the Musee Victor Horta and seeing some of his original inspirations leading the Art Nouveau movement
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