Of all the farcical ironies besetting the European Union, first prize must surely go to Belgium. Home to our super-state capital Brussels, the administrative centre of the European Union is also the capital city of a nation struggling to survive.
The Europe of ‘many tongues, one voice’ rings hollow in a country split between two antagonistic cultures and languages. Let’s face it: the Flem-ish–speakers of Flanders and the French-speakers of Wallonia have little time for each other, and that’s not to mention the many other cultures – Spanish, Italian, Turkish, African – all trying to find an identity for themselves in this failed chalk-and-cheese marriage of Latin and Germanic grandparents.
Travelling from Liége in the French-speaking southern part of Belgium to the Flemish-speaking Ghent in the north is a surreal experience. Once you cross the ‘border’ to Flanders, French is no longer of any use to you. It’s not quite as provocative as, say, a trip to a mural-coated Loyalist area of Belfast; you will simply be ignored if you speak French.
One must keep this in mind when asking for directions on the street. In Ghent recently, I tried asking for directions in French on a number of occasions and was repeatedly ignored. I then tried German and received a more positive response from the few who could converse in that tongue. But I soon realised that speaking English to the Flemish is about as diplomatic as one can be – they simply cannot stand Francophonia. In Ghent, even the signs pointing to the French border are in Flemish.
This separatist attitude has a long history. The recent resurgence of nationalism in Flanders is rooted in the Francophone hegemony forced on the people of Flanders after the foundation of the Belgian kingdom in 1839.
Considering this, it is indeed questionable if the Belgian state has any real validity. During the 19th century, Flemish speakers were treated as second-class citizens, the French-speaking ruling class hoped to supplant the language with their own throughout the country.
In the early 20th century, Flemish activism had forced the state to grant language rights to the Flemish speaking community. Our own Páidraig Pearse founded St Enda’s Irish language school in Dublin after a visit to Belgium to study bilingual education. But the language issue has never gone away.
The idea of Europe as many languages speaking with one voice is the guiding principle of the EU – an idea reflected in The Tower of Babel by Flemish master Bruegel. But the situation in Flanders today is now more reminiscent of another painting by Bruegel, namely Landscape With the Fall of Icarus.
Perhaps we Europeans have underestimated our deep historical, cultural and ideological differences. Perhaps the Eurocrats are rather more akin to the Greek Icarus flying too close to the sun, melting with hubris and falling into the sea, while the Flemish farmers pay no attention, content to plough their own furrow.
