This book was originally published in French by the Brussels-based publisher Editions Nevicata in the series L’âme des peuples (’The soul of the people’).
A series of short essays whose aim is to unveil the intimate driving forces of a country, a region or a city – and its people.
Because in a sometimes brutally changing world where mutual understanding is too often looked down on, it has become essential to rebuild ties and learn about each other.
The series L’âme des peuples is edited by Swiss journalist Richard Werly, the Paris correspondent of the Geneva newspaper Le Temps.
Anderlecht
Auderghem
Berchem-Sainte-Agathe
City of Brussels
Etterbeek
Evere
Forest
Ganshoren
Ixelles
Jette
Koekelberg
Molenbeek-Saint-Jean
Saint-Gilles
Saint-Josse-ten-Noode
Schaerbeek
Uccle
Watermael-Boitsfort
Woluwe-Saint-Lambert
Woluwe-Saint-Pierre
« Bruxelles ma belle/Je te rejoins bientôt aussitôt que Paris me trahit » (Brussels ma belle, I’ll be back with you/As soon as Paris betrays me), sings the Belgian-Dutch musician Dick Annegarn. What is it about this city that attracts so many French people, and not only the wealthy? A city that has also very discretely (by stoemelings, ‘stealthily’ in Brussels dialect) managed to become the capital of Europe. No doubt it is the result of a blend of many ingredients. Brussels is built on a human scale. It is very green, isn’t at all snobbish, and the city calls to mind a collection of villages, hamlets even, where ethnic, linguistic, social and religious diversities interact in a fascinating kaleidoscope.
In short, Brussels is a Tower of Babel that you either love or hate, depending on your mood, the weather, the neighbourhood and chance meetings. It is a hodgepodge where the appalling rubs shoulders with the gorgeous; where countless languages can be heard during a simple tram ride; where an explicit bas-relief depicting fundamental human passions stands next to a monumental mosque financed by Saudi Arabia; and where the Grand Place somehow passes for a model of architectural integrity, when in fact it comprises two radically different styles. It is easy to understand why filmmakers love Brussels so much. The city is capable of playing whatever role it chooses!
As for the rest of the city, Brussels should be explored by foot, bicycle, roller skates, tram or bus. Brussels has a way of bringing you up just as quickly as it can let you down. And while the city has known moments of euphoria, as during its numerous music festivals, the ‘20 km de Bruxelles’ footrace and the annual Iris (the city’s symbol) Festival, it has also experienced great suffering. The list is long, starting with the terrorist attacks on 22 March 2016 at the airport and the Maelbeek metro station (32 killed), and the massacre in 2014 at the Jewish Museum (4 killed). In 1985 there was the Heysel Stadium tragedy before the start of the Juventus–Liverpool football match (39 killed), and in 1967 a dreadful fire at the Innovation department store on the rue Neuve killed 323, the deadliest fire in Belgium’s history.
Is there such a thing as the Brussels spirit? Indeed there is, in the sense that it summarizes the sometimes surreal country that produced René Magritte. If there were no Brussels, Belgium would surely not exist, for Brussels is the keystone to the country’s structure. However, the capital of Belgium is weakened by institutional complexity, wedged as it is between the Flemish and Walloon regions. Furthermore the Brussels spirit is inseparable from the Brussels accent, which is indispensable for uttering expressions such as ‘Arrête une fois de zieverer, dikkenek!’1 Not to be confused with the Belgian accent, which doesn’t really exist anyway.
And then there is the city’s international status. How many cities can boast that they have an airline named after them? ‘It’s because Brussels is a strong brand name’, we are told, even stronger than Belgium’s. If that is true, it is thanks to Europe and its 12 stars, which brought the city out of provincial obscurity and placed it squarely on the world stage. The economic benefits from the presence of the European Union are obvious, even though the average Bruxellois loves to criticize Eurocrat salaries, considered outrageous by many.
Although constantly changing—Europe’s largest pedestrian zone was constructed in Brussels, though the project was anything but smooth sailing—the city cannot ignore the enormous challenges it faces, beginning with the population explosion. Where are we going to house everybody? Find schools and childcare centres for them? And above all, where will the jobs come from? Although Brussels may be the Kingdom’s youngest city, it also has the highest unemployment rate. The most recent state reform2 was designed to reduce Brussels’ dependency on other levels of authority and to allow the city to find its own solutions for the immense problems created by unemployment, Islamic radicalization, pollution and disastrous public transport.
Both Belgian capital and international centre, yet confined within its institutional borders, Brussels has assumed a pioneer spirit since gaining its ‘independence’ in 1989, after fending for itself for years. With ultramodern development along the canal, all the way to the Heysel Plateau, there is a sign of renewed confidence for the future, despite the constantly evolving terrorist threat. The old bourgeoise has suddenly awakened and become cosmopolitan and avant-garde, and the makeover is striking. All that remains to be done is to create a city in which everyone has a place, like pieces in a large urban puzzle.
1 ‘Stop spouting nonsense, loudmouth!’
2 December 2011.
Woods and fields are all around. If it weren’t for its millionplus inhabitants1, Brussels might even pass for a Gallic village, a tremendous advantage for the Bruxellois. For in less than half an hour they can move from the European Quarter to the leafy green Forêt de Soignes (Sonian Forest), from the bustling rue Neuve to the Scheutbos meadows, or from the working-class Midi marketplace to the hyacinth-laden Halle wood. Other capitals stretch on for miles, but Brussels usually lets you know when you’ve left the city. Suddenly there is more light and space. This is not a megalopolis. A ‘green walkway’ provides a 60 km tour of the city, past the symbolic Atomium, a monument that forms an iron crystal magnified 165 billion times and installed for the 1958 World Exhibition.
But nature is not confined to the city’s outskirts. Brussels is a city with a hundred green lungs. The Cambre and Laerbeek woods, the Duden park and the open spaces near the royal castle of Laeken (the official residence of King Philippe and Queen Mathilde) all provide lovely green spots for relaxation. Brussels is fifteen times greener than Paris, if the countless gardens and private courtyards are taken into account, not to mention the wilder expanses such as the Avijl plateau in Uccle. In Molenbeek, cows graze peacefully in the Scheutbos park while modern buildings loom in the distance. Even in the most built-up areas there are green spaces. On the roof of the new food market in the former Anderlecht slaughterhouse there is an urban farm, complete with small vegetable gardens and greenhouses.
Let’s take the metro to the city centre and get off at the Parc station. A few flights up by escalator and we’re at one of the entrances to Brussels Park. On sunny days, this large (11 hectares) rectangular wooded park becomes a picnic ground for civil servants, tourists and school groups visiting one of the many nearby museums, such as the Museum of Ancient Art, the Magritte Museum, the Belvue Museum (Belgian history) and the Museum of Musical Instruments. Seen from the air, the park has inspired numerous legends based on its supposedly Masonic design. What is known for sure is that it was one of the theatres of the Revolution of 1830, when Dutch troops took refuge there. Every 21st July, the Belgian National Day, the park plays host to numerous events open to the public. In the afternoon, tanks and soldiers parade past the monarch and around the park. Later in the evening, thousands of spectators gather for a fireworks display.
Because it is in a neutral zone where demonstrations are prohibited, the park is without a doubt the heart of the nation. At one spot there is a 360° view of all three governmental powers: executive (the Royal Palace), legislative (the Federal Parliament) and judiciary (the Palace of Justice). The power structure has changed considerably since the 1970s. Formerly a unitary state, Belgium is now a federal state, with increasing autonomy given to communities (French2, Flemish and German-speaking) and to regions (Flanders, Wallonia and Brussels). The communities have authority in social matters (health care, education, etc.), while the regions are responsible for the economy, transportation and other territorial matters.
Now is the time to unfold a map of Belgium on the wide stone balustrade that encircles the Royal Palace. What is the first thing that strikes you? That Brussels is a geographic oddity. Capital of the Kingdom, yet landlocked by Flanders, Brussels is its own region, equal to the two other regions except for its bilingual status.
The Sonian Forest, which lies next to it, does not escape the Kingdom’s political division: 56% of its deciduous trees are managed by Flanders, 38% by the Brussels-Capital region and 6% by Wallonia. Each region provides its own distinct sign-posts and regulations. To make matters worse, Brussels is also the capital of Flanders, which surrounds the city and prevents direct access to Wallonia. Its leafy outskirts, particularly the countryside near the commune of Evere, are also the result of a policy prohibiting housing construction, which slows the expansion of the ‘French-speaking spillover’ (i.e. the arrival of French-speaking inhabitants) into monolingual Flanders.
It stands to reason that if there were no Brussels there would surely be no Belgium either. For Belgium is a kingdom whose centrifugal forces gradually strip the central state of its prerogatives. Inhabitants of Brussels have the impression of living in a treasure trove that the entire world covets—one that inspires novelists, too. In The Siege of Brussels (1996), the Belgian writer Jacques Neirynck, who lives in Switzerland, transforms the Belgian capital into a sort of Sarajevo encircled by nationalist Flemish militias acting under the orders of the fascist Erwin Vandewalle. The twist is that France is secretly arming Vandewalle, thereby sacrificing Brussels in exchange for Wallonia!
This fictional account was soon overshadowed by another that made history and further blurred the boundary between fact and fiction. On 13 December 2006, on the eve of the year in which Jacques Neirynck’s story is set, a real (non-fictional) RTBF3 newscaster announced nothing less than the end of Belgium. Despite the ‘this is a work of fiction’ caption scrolling across the screen, the program sent unprecedented