From Islamic headscarf controversies to a shortfall of ethnic minority politicians, Belgium is grappling with similar diversity headaches to Ireland, despite a much longer dalliance with inward migration. CATHERINE REILLY reports from the capital
IN RUSH HOUR, the Schaerbeek district is just a 15-minute taxi journey from Brussels’ swanky European Quarter. But discount the mileage, as the two are worlds apart.
Indeed, while few black or ethnically diverse faces are visible within Europe’s corridors of power at the commission and parliament (save for waiters and security attendants), venture northwards to Schaerbeek and the diversity of a big European city – in a former colonial power – suddenly hits you. It’s edgier, for sure, but mercifully lacking a safety net of blandness.
Minderhedenforum (Minority Forum) is located here, in a no-frills building alongside other civil society organisations. The group began in 2000 as a representative body for dozens of minority groups, including ethnic Turks, Italians, Spaniards and Moroccans.
Today it has 20 employees, bringing together around 1,000 organisations and running media campaigns, political surveys and employment initiatives to promote ethnic minority involvement in numerous spheres.
Significant inward migration to Belgium dates back to the 1950s and 1960s, with Italians and Spaniards largely constituting the first wave into the country’s mining industry, followed by the Turks and Moroccans who were recruited into the chemical and textile sectors.
There are also significant numbers with ties to DR Congo, Rwanda and Burundi – Belgium’s former colonies. And today, the young adult generation of ethnic minorities are, by-and-large, Belgian citizens.
Yet Minderhedenforum’s communications expert Dieter Rogiers believes the country still has a considerable distance to go in reducing racial and religious discrimination – even against its own citizens.
“There are several European reports that say nowhere in Europe is it as difficult to get a job as an ethnic minority, or to get an education, as in Belgium,” he says. “When you look at jobs, our own [Flemish] government only employs 1.8 per cent ethnic minorities, while ethnic minorities represent 10 per cent of the population.”
Indeed, a November 2008 study from the OECD revealed that Belgium is consistently among the worst performers in the EU where employment of ethnic minorities is concerned.
“Especially troubling is that the employment rate of second generation immigrants, compared to the local population, is by far the worst in the entire European Union,” outlines Rogiers. “So even those with a Belgian passport are disadvantaged on the jobs market because of their ethnic background.”
He points out that the OECD noted a persistent absence of job opportunities for minorities, even if their education and social position didn’t differ from that of their local counterparts.
The OECD report concluded that nowhere in the western world is the disparity between school results of local children and children with ethnic roots as wide as in Flanders, which constitutes the Flemish-speaking northern half of the country (the southern half, Wallonia, is predominantly French-speaking).
“This means that our school system isn’t likely soon to provide equal education opportunities, which in turn means the inequality in the jobs market won’t be cured in the short term,” adds Rogiers.
He suggests that Belgian authorities have been muddling along in their approach to diversity, displaying classic knee-jerk responses and using the issue as a pawn in their political games. “Twenty years ago, the policy was ‘Don’t talk about it’,” he says. “And then there was the rise of Vlaams Blok, which is an extreme right party, and we had what we call a Black Sunday, when they had a huge electoral gain. From that point on, politicians started talking about it but only in terms of problems – and they didn’t really seek solutions.”
Mohamed Lahlali knows what it was like to grow up in such a climate.
Born in 1975 in the north Belgian city of Ghent, this son of a Berber Moroccan father and Arabian Moroccan mother recalls being excluded from a local dance hall as a teen – purely, he suggests, on ethnic grounds. He hung out at Moroccan cafes instead, but interestingly the experience hasn’t harmed his Belgian identity.
“I see myself as Belgian, Flemish, Moroccan, Berber... it’s not easy,” says Lahlali with a short laugh, adding a rejoinder that the identity question is better asked of an ethnic minority who hasn’t enjoyed a college education, unlike himself. Depression among boys of Moroccan and Turkish descent is higher, he adds, party due to an “identity crisis”.
Lahlali now works at Minderhedenforum, with a brief to promote participation of ethnic minorities in different institutions. For example, in Brussels, Minderhedenforum operates a project which tries to get people from ethnic minority backgrounds onto boards advising the government.
Like Rogiers, Lahlali notes how an awkward approach to diversity issues is having disruptive consequences, best exemplified through ongoing controversies surrounding Muslim dress in schools and elsewhere. For instance, the Flemish government – in a similar vein to Irish authorities – has determined that individual schools can determine whether Islamic pupils are permitted to wear the headscarf.
“A few months ago, there was much upheaval about the fact that teachers and students in one of the school systems in Flanders can no longer wear headscarves,” explains Rogiers. “There were few schools anymore where you could wear headscarves and a lot of Muslim girls went to those schools so they became concentration schools – and those schools weren’t really happy about it, so they set about forbidding the headscarf.
“There was much debate about it. Some said ‘Well you have to make a choice between a good education and wearing a headscarf’ but we don’t see it that way. You should be able to establish your identity at school, and that can be by wearing a headscarf.
“There are still schools where you can wear a headscarf but they are diminishing day by day. It’s becoming a real problem, and there is even talk of establishing a Muslim network of schools.”
Authorities give diversity a thumbs-up and thumbs-down consecutively, suggests Lahlali. “For example, in several big cities, the local governments have banned [Muslim] employees [from wearing] the headscarf – but only the employees that are in direct contact with the public. It’s not very logical. There are so few of them working with the government but in some cities they say ‘Sorry, you cannot have any contact [with the public] because of the neutrality of the administration.’”
The dearth of politicians with an ethnic background is another worry. “With the [regional] elections this year,” says Rogiers, “we had a count of the people on the list for the elections and the number of ethnic minorities was on average five per cent, whereas in the population it’s 10 per cent. So it’s only half what it should be. Also we have 124 MPs in the Flemish parliament, and only five have an ethnic background.”
There is also an issue concerning the selection by parties of ethnic candidates purely based on their ethnicity.
“In terms of political parties, they don’t take these candidates seriously, they only recruit them for their votes,” says Lahlali. He outlines that some parties even go beyond this selection-by-national background, picking people from specific regions in Turkey, for example, if their ethnic brethren are particularly popular in certain cities. “So sometimes you get people elected who are not very competent,” he says.
Rogiers adds that on TV, an ethnic minority will only usually be wheeled out to discuss ethnic issues, and little else. “If it’s a programme on economics, you never see them on TV. That again feeds into the idea that it’s ‘us’ and it’s ‘them’.”
Could all of these concerns translate into French-style tensions? “In Flanders I don’t know,” says Rogiers. “In Brussels, it could escalate – but mainly because of big city issues.”
Ghettos do exist in Belgian cities, outline the pair, but they do not exhibit the same level of social exclusion as those in France. Communications channels, partly facilitated by Minderhedenforum itself, are also more advanced than in France, they agree, while as a whole Belgians are compromising by nature – after all, Belgium is a nation in which Flemish, French and German-speaking communities have managed to coexist.
“Everything is not bad here, there are problems but also good practices,” reasons Lahlali. “In a few weeks there is an Islamic holiday where Muslims offer sheep [for sacrifice], it is a very holy day. In Belgium it’s illegal to sacrifice or kill a sheep, and a lot of the cities don’t have slaughterhouses. But in Ghent, Antwerp and Brussels, the authorities have organised, with their own budget, temporary places with professional butchers. In Ghent it costs €50,000 – they don’t have to do it, yet they do, because you know you have to have good contact with your own citizens.”
Rogiers also refers to a successful collaborative project with the Flemish Employment Office, which has seen around 900 people of ethnic minority background find jobs in the past year.
Elsewhere, the recession is hitting Belgium’s diversity groups hard, although Minderhedenforum, – which receives state funding – is legally protected.
“There was a centre in Flanders for equal opportunities for children in education,” says Rogiers. “Well, that centre has now been abolished because of the budget cuts.”
Rogiers and Lahlali agree that clamping down on such initiatives is something that Belgium can ill afford. n
Catherine Reilly was in Brussels on a visit funded by the European Parliament and European Commission representation in Ireland.
