MAGAZINE No 55
Summer 2024

A funky jazz mix of Congo, Expo 58 and spies
Is it revolution or restoration at Place Royale?
Finance Minister Van Peteghem tries to balance the books
MAGAZINE No 55
Summer 2024
A funky jazz mix of Congo, Expo 58 and spies
Is it revolution or restoration at Place Royale?
Finance Minister Van Peteghem tries to balance the books
Special issue ahead of Paris 2024: The Red Lions hockey squad, Belgian Tornadoes relay team, Nina Dewael, Nafi Thiam and other hopefuls
Plus: When Antwerp hosted the Olympics, the Red Devils at Euro 2024 and Belgium’s niche sports
For connoisseurs of the finer things in life and those who enjoy chilling in style! Come, spend some time here and your heart is sure to smile!
Gloriette Guesthouse is located on Bolzano’s well loved local mountain. Once you arrive in Soprabolzano in Renon, whether it be by cable car or by car you will find yourself in another world. It is much more than just first-class comfort which makes each of the 25 rooms special. It is instead the little things, the casual accessories together with a touch of luxury that create an easy-going, overindulgent flair. You also experience this feeling when you dive into the rooftop infinity pool or while having a wonderful meal in the fine dining restaurant of the hotel.
6-9th of June –European elections
Belgium’s national teams are usually red. Or cats. Or both.
The men’s football team is the Red Devils and the women’s is the Red Flames. The men’s hockey team, the current Olympic champions, are the Red Lions, and the women are the Red Panthers. The women’s basketball team is the Belgian Cats, while the men are the Belgian Lions. The men’s 4x400m relay team breaks the theme: they are the Belgian Tornadoes. But the women’s relay runners are back on message as the Belgian Cheetahs.
One might ask what is particularly Belgian about tornadoes – or even lions and panthers. But when you compete at the highest level, you sometimes need to suspend disbelief to imagine yourself winning.
This summer, there is sport galore, and Belgium is very much in the mix. Team Belgium will send over 135 eager competitors to the Paris Olympics, all hoping for their moment of glory, and Isabella Vivian joins me to look at the medal prospects of the fittest and finest.
I also meet Dylan Borlée, who is taking part in his third Olympics as part of the medal-chasing 4x400m relay team. Running runs in the family: his sister and twin brothers are also Olympians. And David Labi meets Belgium’s hockey coach, Michel van den Heuvel, as the Red Lions defend their gold medal.
Belgium’s Olympic credentials go beyond its sports stars: Antwerp actually hosted the games in 1920. It was in the most inauspicious circumstances, less than two years after the end of the First World War, but as I relate, the city pulled it off. And from jeu de balle to gullscreeching, Harry Pearson celebrates the uniquely Belgian games that have yet to be accepted as Olympic events.
Moving to football, Dennis Abbott meets Belgium’s coach Domenico Tedesco, ahead of Euro 2024 to see if the Red Devils can pull it together this time. Jon Eldridge visits Kraainem Football Club, which is bringing young unaccompanied refugees into its squad and helping them take their first steps in the country.
Dennis Abbott also meets Finance Minister Vincent Van Peteghem, who is battling to balance Belgium’s books while spending more on defence and welfare. Philippe Van Parijs says Brussels needs new language rules to reflect how French and Dutch, the city’s two official languages, are spoken less while English is on the rise.
We have four articles tied to Belgium’s mid-century meddling in its African colonies, Congo and Rwanda. Maïthé Chini speaks to Johan Grimonprez, director of Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat, about how jazz stars were sent to Congo and other African countries during the independence era to distract from the political turmoil.
Susan Williams, author of White Malice, recounts how Expo 58 became a hive of Cold War intrigue as the CIA worked to undermine Congo’s independence efforts. Richard Harris tells of how he discovered his own father was a CIA agent heavily involved in Expo 58. And as Rwanda commemorates 30 years since the horrendous 1994 genocide, Thimoté Bozzetto explains how the internecine rivalries were partly a legacy of Belgium’s colonial rule.
As Place Royale’s cobbles are pulled up for a major renovation, Frédéric Moreau looks back at its rich history and forward to its bid to become a more people-friendly space. Frédéric also remembers the modernist pioneer Stanislas Jasinski, whose far-sighted vision for modern urban dwelling is recognised at a CIVA exhibition.
Margherita Bassi meets the Flemish designer and Moroccan artist whose wool creations aim to revive a lost craft. Angela Dansby takes a weekend break to Dinant, the Instagram-friendly town between the river and a sheer cliff face, which was the birthplace of Adolphe Sax.
Jon Eldridge cycles between the two Trappist breweries in Flanders, the abbeys of Westmalle and Westvleteren. Hugh Dow takes tram 9 from Simonis to the King Baudouin Stadium – and also tests the section to Groot-Bijgaarden, which the 9 is set to cannibalise from July.
Breandán Kearney relates how Mechelen’s Het Anker became one of Belgium’s most pioneering breweries. Hughes Belin writes about the filet américain as it celebrates its centenary, as well as the Au Vieux Saint Martin restaurant that created it. And finally, Geoff Meade grapples with artificial intelligence, currently threatening his identity as a professional chit-chatterer.
Leo CendrowiczEditor, The Brussels Times Magazine
Summer 2024
The Brussels Times Avenue Louise 54
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+32 (0)2 893 00 67
info@brusselstimes.com ISSN Number: 0772-1633
On the Cover Illustration by Lectrr
Editor Leo Cendrowicz
Publishers
Jonadav Apelblat
Omry Apelblat
Graphic Designer Marija Hajster
Sales Operations Managers
Caroline Dierckx
Gidon Tannenbaum
David Young
Contributors
Dennis Abbott, Margherita Bassi, Hughes Belin, Thimoté Bozzetto, Leo Cendrowicz, Maïthé Chini, Angela Dansby, Hugh Dow, Jon Eldridge, Richard Harris, Breandán Kearney, Lectrr, Helen Lyons, Geoff Meade, Frédéric Moreau, Philippe Van Parijs, Harry Pearson, Isabella Vivian, Susan Williams
Photo Credits
Lectrr: Cover, 144
Belga: 8-11, 16, 17-18, 20, 24, 26, 28, 32, 34, 36, 42, 52, 54-56, 62-67, 82-83, 85, 87, 132 Louis David at louisdavidphotography. com: 14-15
Province de Liège-Musée de la Vie wallonne: 48, 50-51
Kraainem Football Club: 60-61
Leo Cendrowicz: 68, 80, 90, 93, 116-121
123RF: 88-89, 96, 145-146
Angela Dansby: 108-112
Westmalle Brewery: 122, 124
Sint-Sixtus Abbey: 126
Breandán Kearney: 128-134
Correction
In the Apr/May issue we mistakingly wrote that Belgian elections were due on June 7, whereas it was in fact on June 9.
Advertising
Please contact us on advertise@brusselstimes.com or +32 (0)2 893 00 67 for information about advertising opportunities.
62
16
Belgium’s Olympic dreams
Leo Cendrowicz and Isabella Vivian
24 Sticking with gold
David Labi
32 The relay baton passes to Dylan, the last Borlée brother
Leo Cendrowicz
40 When the Games were in Antwerp
Leo Cendrowicz
48 The brilliant Belgian sports that the Olympics ignored
Harry Pearson
52 Red Devils seeking a reboot at Euro 2024
Dennis Abbott
60 The football club seeking refugee players
Jon Eldridge
62 The numbers man balancing Belgium’s books
Dennis Abbott
68 Why Brussels needs new language rules
Philippe Van Parijs
74 How jazz played out over Congo’s chaotic coup
Maïthé Chini
80 Undercover at the Expo: The CIA's secret mission in Brussels
Susan Williams
84 Expo 58 and my father’s CIA secret
Richard Harris
86 The Belgian seeds of Rwanda’s genocide
Thimoté Bozzetto
88 Royale revival
Frédéric Moreau
The artists finding ways to revive Belgium’s fading wool traditions
Margherita Bassi
The Brussels starchitect that nobody knows Frédéric Moreau
Down to Dinant
Angela Dansby
Tram 9, from Simonis/ Elisabeth to King Baudouin
(and, eventually, to GrootBijgaarden)
Hugh Dow
122 A double Flemish Trappist
beer bike tour
Jon Eldridge
128 Ankerman and the legend of the moon extinguishers
Breandán Kearney
136 Food and drink
Hughes Belin
140 Arts & events
Helen Lyons
Geoff Meade 32 84 88
144 Hey there, what’s up? How can I brighten your day today?
It was a purrade to remember at the Kattenstoet, the cat-themed festival held triennially in Ieper (or Ypres) on the second Sunday of May. Ieper’s relationship with cats has taken many forms. In pagan times, a giant statue of a cat god is thought to have stood where the Cloth Hall is currently in the town centre. But the cat worship turned when locals converted to Christianity and furry friends were associated with witches and demons. Records from the 15th century reveal the festivals were far from fun for felines: the town jester would hurl live animals from the high towers –including the Cloth Hall belfry – to symbolise the exorcism of demons. Only in 1817 were the last cats thrown and the practice banned. Now, there is only applause for the paws.
It is as rare as it is stinky. The titan arum (Amorphophallus titanum) usually takes years to flower, but the Botanical Garden in Meise boasts a remarkable record in fostering them: this year was the 17th time that the plant has bloomed in Belgium. It also has the largest unbranched inflorescence in the world. However, the size and infrequency are not the only reasons titan arum draws crowds. It also gives off arguably the foulest stench nature can produce, akin to rotting flesh. The funky flora is native to rainforests on the Indonesian island of Sumatra, where locals call it the ‘corpse plant’. The one whiffing up the Meise greenhouse in May was 217cm tall – but the flowering lasted only 72 hours.
Pierre and Jennyfer from Drogenbos made a very deep commitment in May when they tied the knot at a diving centre in Limburg. By all accounts, the aquatic wedding went swimmingly.
Belgium will send its biggest-ever team of sporting hopefuls to the Olympic Games in Paris in July and August. Leo Cendrowicz and Isabella Vivian look at their medal prospects
They are Belgium’s fittest and finest. They are heptathletes and hockey players, sailors and swimmers, boxers and basketball players, cyclists and canoeists, triathletes and taekwondo fighters. And they are heading to Paris to test their speed and strength against the greatest in the world in that quadrennial festival of sports, the Olympic Games.
When the Belgian squad marches out in the Stade de France for the July 26 opening ceremony, they will be hoping to seize their glorious moment.
Over 135 eager sportspeople will be competing in Paris this summer. “We have a fine delegation of athletes performing at the highest level," says Jean-Michel Saive, President of the Belgian Olympic Committee. “The team will be bigger than it was in Tokyo.”
Team Belgium won seven medals at the Tokyo Olympics in 2021. In Paris, they have a well-stocked team featuring three Tokyo gold medallists: gymnast Nina Derwael, heptathlete Nafi Thiam and the Red Lions hockey squad. They will be bolstered by the Belgian Cats women’s basketball team, the Belgian Tornadoes 4x400m men’s relay runners, as well as world names like cyclist Wout van Aert.
“We are going into these Olympics with our heads held high. We are a strong delegation with lots of ambition. We will experience some incredible moments of emotion during the Olympic and Paralympic Games,” Saive says.
The qualification period for the Paris Olympics ends on June 30, so the final list is still to be determined. But here is what to watch out for from Team Belgium.
Let’s start with Belgium's brightest star, heptathlete Nafi Thiam, who clinched gold in both Rio 2016 and Tokyo 2020. The child of a Senegalese father and Belgian mother, born in Brussels and raised in Namur, she spent years as a teenager getting the train from school to go training in Liège before
returning to her home. She would later juggle athletics with studying geography at the University of Liège (specialist subject: the city sprawl in the sub-Sahara). Now 29, she is aiming for a heptathlon hat-trick in Paris.
There will be four Belgians in the triathlon: Jolien Vermeylen and Claire Michel for the women, with Jelle Geens and Marten Van Riel (fourth place in Tokyo) for the men.
In running events, the qualified women include Cynthia Bolingo in the 400m, Hanne Claes in the 400m hurdles and marathon runners Chloé Herbiet and Hanne Verbruggen.
Among the male runners, Bashir Abdi (who won bronze in Rio in 2016), Koen Naert and Michael Somers are competing in the marathon, Tibo De Smet and Pieter Sisk in the 800m, Alexander Doom in the 400m, John Heymans and Isaac Kimeli in the 5000m, and Michael Obasuyi in the 110m hurdles. On the field, Ben Broeders has qualified for the high jump.
Finally, there are the 4x400 relay teams. The men’s team, the so-called Belgian Tornadoes, includes Dylan Borlée, Alexander Doom, Jonathan Sacoor and (see interview with Dylan Borlée on page 28). The women’s relay team, the Belgian Cheetahs, came seventh in the Tokyo final in 2021 but had not yet secured their qualification at the time of writing. However, the mixed 4x400m relay, which came fifth in Tokyo, will be in Paris.
The women’s team, the Belgian Cats, have qualified and will hope to win Belgium’s first-ever Olympic medal in basketball. This is only the second time the Cats have qualified, after Tokyo, but they have gained ground, coming fifth in the 2022 FIBA World Cup and winning the 2023 EuroBasket Women.
Bucharest-born Vasile Usturoi has qualified in the men’s featherweight (under 57 kg) category, while Roesselare’s Oshin Derieuw
The child of a Senegalese father and Belgian mother, born in Brussels and raised in Namur, she spent years as a teenager getting the train from school to go training in Liège before returning to her home. She would later juggle athletics with studying geography at the University of Liège.
Wout van Aert, a triple winner of both the World Championships and World Cup, is one of the favourites in the road race, where he won silver in Tokyo, and time trial.
will compete in the women’s welterweight (under 66 kg).
Two-time European bronze medallist Artuur Peters will compete in his third Olympics in the canoe sprint K-1 1,000m. while Lize Broekx and Hermien Peters, in the women’s K2 500m sprint, already booked their ticket to Paris last summer.
Belgium has a rich cycling heritage and the squad in Paris has a good chance to add to its 27 Olympic cycling medals.
Wout van Aert, a triple winner of both the World Championships and World Cup, is one of the favourites in the road race, where he won silver in Tokyo, and time trial. Remco Evenepoel is also vying for both the road race and time trial: the 2022 Vuelta a España winner and 2022 UCI Champion will, like van Aert, also be competing in the Tour de France just before the Olympics.
World champion Lotte Kopecky will not be racing at the Tour de France Femmes so she can focus on the Olympics, where the 28-yearold from Rumst is a favourite for the individual time trial and road race.
Meanwhile, Jens Schuermans has qualified for his third Olympics in men’s mountain bike.
Historically, one of Belgium’s strongest sports, but in Paris their only hopeful is Neisser Loyola in the Sword category.
All eyes will be on Nina Derwael, Belgium's first-ever Olympic gold medallist in gymnastics, whose innovative routines have significantly raised the profile of the sport, inspiring a new generation of athletes. The Sint-Truiden-born gymnast, now 24, started at the Topsportschool in Ghent at age 11, and by 15, he had already won her first Belgian senior title. At 16, she made her debut at the 2016 Rio Olympics, finishing 19th, and the next year was crowned European champion. More medals and titles followed, culminating in her Tokyo triumph. Recently dogged by a shoulder injury, Derwael had to drop out of the World Gymnastics Championships in Antwerp last September, later undergoing surgery that sidelined her for three months. While she won gold in Tokyo for the uneven bars, in Paris she has qualified for the all-around – where she is joined by Maellyse Brassart.
Amongst the men, Luka Van den Keybus will compete in the all-around, alongside Noah Kuavita, who has also qualified for the parallel bars.
The Belgian men's hockey team, known as the Red Lions, secured the gold medal in Tokyo 2020 following their first World Cup title in 2018 (see separate article page 20). With a core of experienced players and a smart tactical approach, they are naturally aiming to defend their Olympic title.
The women’s team, the Red Panthers, will be at the Olympics for only the second time after London in 2012, when they came 11th. But their recent form has been impressive: silver medallists in the 2023 EuroHockey Nations Championship and fourth place in the past two seasons in the FIH Pro League.
In equestrian sports, Belgium has a solid base to build on, winning bronze in the team jumping in Tokyo, and this year, they have strong contenders in dressage, eventing and jumping. The likes of show jumpers Jérôme Guéry and Gregory Wathelet have consistently performed well in international competitions and will be
All eyes will be on Nina Derwael, Belgium's firstever Olympic gold medallist in gymnastics, whose innovative routines have significantly raised the profile of the sport, inspiring a new generation of athletes.
joined by Gilles Thomas and Koen Vereecke. Cyril Gavrilovic, Lara de Liedekerke, Jarno Verwimp and Karin Donckers will be in the eventing team, while Larissa Pauluis, Charlotte Defalque, Flore Winne and Domien Michiels will compete in dressage.
Judo is one of the disciplines where Belgium has brought home the most Olympic medals, some 13, including two golds: Ulla Werbrouck in the women's half-heavyweight (72kg) in 1996 and Robert Van de Walle in Moscow in 1980 for half-heavyweight (95kg). In 1996, four of Belgium’s six medals were in judo.
The best hope in Paris is Matthias Casse, who won bronze in Tokyo in the 81kg category and was World Champion in 2021. Toma Nikiforov, who was European champion in 2021 and 2018 in the 100kg, may see Paris as his last Olympic challenge.
Belgium can boast Tim Brys in the single sculls as well as the duo Niels Van Zandweghe and Tibo Vyvey in the lightweight double sculls.
The biggest medal chance is with Ostend-born Emma Plasschaert, a two-time World Champion, in the Laser Radial class, who finished fourth at the Tokyo Olympics. William De Smet is also in the Laser Radial, while duo Isaura Maenhaut and Anouk Geurts will be in 49er FX event.
Lucas Henveaux will swim the 400m freestyle at the Paris Games, while Valentine Dumont has qualified in both 200m and 400m freestyle, Florine Gaspard in 50m freestyle and Roos Vanotterdijk is in the 100m backstroke.
Sarah Chaâri, the 2022 World Champion, will compete in the middleweight 57-67kg. A 19-yearold medicine student at the Université libre de Bruxelles (ULB), she was also crowned European Champion in Belgrade in May.
Nina Sterckx, 21, has qualified in two categories for the Paris Olympic Games: in the under-49kg (seventh in the Olympic qualification ranking) and under-59kg (tenth). In Tokyo in 2021, aged just 18, Sterckx finished fifth and set a new Belgian record (180kg: 81kg in the snatch and 99kg in the clean and jerk). At the time, to be able to make the category, she had to lose 9.5kg, or 16% of her normal body weight.
Belgium took part in the inaugural 1896 Athens Olympics and has mostly been a fixture since then. Here are some nuggets in numbers.
157
Total medals won by Belgium in summer Olympics (44 gold, 56 silver, 57 bronze)
8
Total medals won by Belgium in winter Olympics (2 gold, 2 silver, 4 bronze)
27
Medals in its most successful summer sport, cycling. Followed by archery (21), athletics (14), equestrian (14) and judo (13)
30
Belgium’s place in all-time summer Olympics medals list
Advocates from the SOS: Save Our Society campaign urge World Health Assembly Member States to negotiate and adopt an equitable Pandemic Agreement that protects all nations at a press conference in Jakarta, Indonesia on May 27, 2024
The renowned scientific journal Nature estimated that vaccine hoarding alone likely costs more than 1 million lives.
After years of back-and-forth talks on how to best protect the world from the next pandemic disaster – World Health Organization
Member States remain at a stalemate – with lower-income countries still lacking access to lifesaving health commodities and the ability to secure vital technologies and know-how during global public health emergencies—issues world leaders must rectify immediately.
As the 77th World Health Assembly (WHA) convened this year in Geneva, there was much anticipation as to the fate of the WHO Pandemic Agreement. For the last two years, Member States have been engaged in negotiations to create an agreement to prevent a repeat of the COVID-19 global health catastrophe – a human tragedy that is less about a virus and more about nationalist protectionism, corporate profit interest, and unacceptable inequity.
In December 2021, after the omicron variant was first identified by South Africa and Botswana, Member States voted to establish an Intergovernmental Negotiation Body (INB) to draft and negotiate a Pandemic Agreement. From the start, addressing equity has been a priority for countries, with calls for equity initially being made even among those countries responsible for many of the very inequities observed during the global COVID-19 response
While initially seeming committed to being guided by noble objectives, European Union nations and the UK have since taken a stance of opposition against proposals aimed at breaking down intellectual property and other barriers to the equitable distribution of vaccines and other pandemic-related health products. This stance has caused an impasse in negotiations, and on the Friday before the assembly, it was announced that countries had failed to reach an agreement by its pre-established deadline of May 24. This, in spite of the fact that, as reported by legal scholars Alexandra Phelan and Lawrence O. Gostin, that “most of the draft treaty text was ‘greened’, meaning it was accepted by the parties.”
During discussions on the INB, which took place at WHA on Wednesday, representatives from Brazil pointed out that financing and equity are the key issues preventing the agreement. This isn’t surprising considering the stated position of powerful Western countries like Germany, whose Health Minister announced at the World Health Summit last year that an “agreement with ‘major limitations’ on intellectual property rights protection will ‘not’ fly for Germany and most of its European Union members.” This announcement was reported and described by Health Affairs, the leading journal of health policy research, as “a victory for the pharmaceutical industry, which has been lobbying hard to influence negotiations.” We agree.
For developing countries, the establish-
ment of binding mechanisms to ensure equitable access and prevent what South Africa has called a “vaccine apartheid”—referring to the rampant hoarding of vaccines, medicines, and other countermeasures by developed countries—has been a top priority. Preventing this from happening again requires nothing less than a binding agreement that specifically addresses critical issues of access and distribution of pandemic-related health products, tech transfer, regional diversification of manufacturing, and financing for low- and middle-income countries (LMICs) to build capacity and bring their health systems into the 21st century.
The renowned scientific journal Nature estimated that vaccine hoarding alone likely cost more than 1 million lives – 1 million. This is equivalent to wiping out 10 out of every 12 Brussels residents in under two years. In the same article, Nature reports on the stark contrast of such inequity with vaccine rates, which were 75% in high-income countries but less than 2% in some low-income countries.
However, equitable distribution of vaccines only solves part of the problem. Broader access to pandemic-related health products must be guaranteed to prevent the developing world from being “forced to be part of an unequal fight” for access to pandemic-related health products such as personal protective equipment, diagnostics tests, medicines, biologics, and even oxygen. To address this issue, Article 12 of the Pandemic Agreement sought to improve access by creating a Pathogen Access and Benefits Sharing System.
Under PABS, all signatories to the agreement would be required to rapidly share pathogens and genetic sequence data, which are critical for the timely development of diagnostics, vaccines, and therapeutics, with the understanding that participating countries will set aside a certain percentage of health products for equitable distribution to meet the urgent needs of all nations. During negotiations, an agreement could not be reached regarding percentages and triggering events for the distribution of these products, with a proposed best-case scenario of 20% of pandemic-related health products (10% as donations and 10% to be sold at cost). World-leading scientific journal The Lancet described the proposal as “shameful, unjust, and inequitable.”
At best, this proposal would leave 80% of critical vaccines, treatments, and diagnostics inaccessible to LMICs, which comprise 81% of the world's population, which can hardly be described as equitable. Achieving a PABS on equal footing requires real-time access to a sufficient amount of pandemic-related health products, not only during pandemics but also during Public Health Emergencies of
International Concern and during peacetime for prevention and preparedness.
It is clear that ignoring lessons from our past is done at our collective peril and, as put by AHF President Michael Weinstein, this missed opportunity to address systemic inequality in the global public health order by “giving in to pressure from corporate interests and profit motives at this point is beyond foolish.”
And while preventing infectious disease outbreaks or pandemics from disproportionally ravaging lower-income countries is not an exclusive concern of the Global South, the resolve to find a solution does not appear to come from what WHO Director-General Tedros has called “the Spirit of Geneva.” This is why these future negotiations should be moved to the heart of where equity matters most – to a developing country. This should be done without delay and be concluded before the end of 2024.
The longer we wait, the less pressure and resolve there will be for countries to reach a meaningful agreement on equity. As pandemic amnesia sets in, the odds are greater that countries will fail to take decisive action, ensuring we will again blindly stumble into our next global public health catastrophe.
Guilherme Ferrari Faviero, Director, AHF Global Public Health Institute at the University of Miami
Dr. Jorge Saavedra, Executive Director of the AHF Global Public Health Institute and AHF Mexico
As pandemic amnesia sets in, the odds are greater that countries will fail to take decisive action, ensuring we will again blindly stumble into our next global public health catastrophe.
The Red Lions aren’t sleeping tonight. As Belgium’s men’s hockey players prepare to conquer the Paris Olympics, David Labi spoke to their coach, Michel van den Heuvel
Tokyo Stadium, August 5, 2021. Seconds thud by, the tension hanging in the humid Japanese summer air. The Belgian men’s field hockey team is locked in a 1-1 draw with Australia to clinch the nation’s first-ever Olympic Gold in the sport. The referee blows his whistle for time –it’s penalties!
Years of patient work back home have brought the Red Lions to this moment. Now, all will be decided by a few flicks of the stick.
The black-clad Vincent Vanasch is imperious in the Belgian goal. He advances on the approaching Australian, gets down – it’s a block! The Kookaburras lose the upper hand. Florent van Aubel responds with poise, spinning around the keeper to slot home. Tension ratchets up, a mass intake of breath with each dice roll. Finally, the pressure is on the Kookaburras to do or die. The Belgian goalkeeper is penalised for impeding the player. There’s a retake – but Vanasch saves again and sends Belgium into history.
Gold at the pandemic-delayed 2020 Olympics was the third of a tremendous treble, after the World Cup in 2018 and the European Championship in 2019. Stepping down after the Games, head coach Shane McLeod could scarcely wrap his head around it. “Such stories are not written,” he said. “Nobody believes it.”
Three years on, we believe. Under new head coach Michel van den Heuvel, the team has continued to dine at the top table. In January 2023 they lost out to Germany in the final of the Hockey World Cup, and now the question is whether they can retake the Olympic Gold. With Paris approaching, Van den Heuvel sat down to talk trajectory, squad, strategy and how they plan to defend the podium. Will the Lions roar again?
Belgium was never seen as one of the giants of men’s field hockey. Indeed, the team has only won three medals in the Olympics, one
of each, compared to 12 by the most successful hockey country, India.
The Belgian journey to the Olympian summit was fired by heartbreak. At the 2016 Rio Olympics, they fell at the last hurdle, with silver serving as a potent reminder. In 2015, both New Zealander Shane McLeod and Dutchman Van den Heuvel had been approached. Van den Heuvel had other commitments and joined as assistant, but they’ve been working together, in one role or another, ever since –and McLeod remains on board as assistant today.
Van den Heuvel says they match well. “I'm more demanding and direct,” he says, “bringing a bit of that Dutch culture into my coaching.” This directness is balanced by McLeod’s focus on explanation and individual attention. “We’re really complimentary,” Van den Heuvel continues. “Over the years we’ve got to know each other inside out.”
Their blend permeates the team’s strategy. For example, man-to-man marking has been the traditional norm in Europe, with zonal defending more widespread in the rest of the world. McLeod cut his teeth in the zonal system, with Van den Heuvel coming through man-to-man. The team benefits as a result.
“When you play European teams against the US, India, and so on,” says Van den Heuvel, “we can understand the philosophy of both.”
But the true foundations of success came from Belgium’s decision around 15 years ago to invest in hockey. They built youth programmes, invested in quality coaches and steadily pushed targets. First, the goal was to compete at the Olympics, then to “push to the podium.” In Rio, they reached the final but lost to Argentina, and Van den Heuvel says the pain they felt represented “the vitamins we needed to make that extra step towards Tokyo.”
A virtuous circle was set in play, a self-nourishing structure. Younger players now had successful older role models. “We changed
They need to have the engine, and the capacity and mental ability to perform in a series of games.
With every big event you need to look for the changes you need to be successful. The better the players, the more they can enact tactical changes in big tournaments.
our mentality,” says Van den Heuvel. “We had these athletes investing a lot, but who hadn’t yet won. They made the team that was able to get that treble.”
Gold in Paris will hinge upon team selection, but at the time of writing, the final 16-man squad is yet to be announced. The Red Lions are currently competing in Pro League games in Belgium and the Netherlands against India and others, while the coaches evaluate.
In the last Euros, they had time to blood some newbies, forging “a new group of young and old together, hungry again.”
You need balance, says Van den Heuvel. “The experienced players who’ve been there, with the freshness and power of young athletes.”
The recovery capacity of youth is integral to producing eight quality games over 13 days. “They need to have the engine, and the capacity and mental ability to perform in a series of games.” As well as pure speed, he adds, since “the game is getting faster and faster.”
So as the coaches assess the candidates’ physical and mental resilience, the athletes pray for a spot among the final 16. It’s the hardest part of the job, says Van den Heuvel, disappointing top athletes. He clears his throat. “But it has to be done.”
The road to Paris is strewn with formidable opponents. Van den Heuvel acknowledges the traditional powerhouses: "Holland is leading in the world rankings, because it was the European champion; Germany was world champion. Australia is always competing at the highest level. Team GB has a good programme and good athletes.” But even with the other teams, “you have to produce quality to get results.” Every match is treated with respect, with coaches devising specific game plans for each contender.
That implies tactical wizardry. “With every big event you need to look for the changes you need to be successful," van den Heuvel emphasises. The team can’t rely on past victorious methods. “The better the players, the more they can enact tactical changes in big tournaments.” Though few secrets remain for long in the limelight, staying fresh and surprising will be key. The coaches relentlessly analyse and respond to new trends, like the rise of the aerial game. Hitting the ball through the air is “a low-risk attack and you can have big results.” The Lions must work on using it – and defending it too.
Beyond these intricacies, however, lies strength of belief. How does Belgium deal with the spotlight? “At the level we are working at there’s always immense pressure. Without that, you can't perform,” Van den Heuvel says.
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At the level we are working at there’s always immense pressure. Without that, you can't perform.
But he’s wary of a pitfall in the other direction. “Guys who win need to understand they have to do more,” he continues, “but there's a tendency to do less.” Mental conditioning is fundamental to help players use the defence of their title not as pressure, but as motivation.
Talking of motivation – surely the grandeur of the Olympics helps? “For our sport, it’s the biggest event possible,” he says. But it’s way more fun to go as a spectator. “The vibe the city gives you. Everyone is enjoying sport, everyone is equal.”
Attending as a contender is different. “We have to make our world as small as possible,” Van den Heuvel says, by sequestering themselves and foregoing any energy or concentration-sapping interaction. “We start on the Saturday against Ireland. The day before is the beautiful ceremony – but we will not be there,” says Van den Heuvel with a voice like concrete. “For participants, it’s not about glamour. It’s all about really hard work and really hard focus.”
Yet as a Dutchman managing a Belgian team, he embodies in a small way the cross-border vision. “I live in the south Netherlands where Antwerp is closer than Amsterdam,” he says. When he needs urban action, he heads to the Belgian city. “I’ve loved Belgian culture for a long time –that’s one of the reasons I wanted to work here,” he says, name-dropping shrimp croquettes. “The way Belgian people enjoy life, that’s how I want to live my life. I feel connected.”
The connection of a small country coming together to invest in and focus on a game. The fruitful bond between Van den Heuvel and McLeod. The virtuous cycle of young hopefuls and the wizened veterans, fuelling and learning from each other. Van den Heuvel will step down after the Olympics – but he’s been part of a revolution in Belgian field hockey that will not ebb so easily, whether Paris brings gold or not.
The pharmaceutical sector brings unprecedented levels of investment to Europe. In 2022, R&D investment amounted to €44 billion, hiring some 865,000 employees, and bringing €215 billion in added value to the European economy.
In the face of emerging health challenges, the European Federation of Pharmaceutical Industries and Associations (EFPIA) is working to maintain Europe’s innovative edge. Under the tagline “We Won’t Rest,” EFPIA’s members are leading the drive to innovate and find new treatments for previously untreatable conditions.
To protect the health resilience of ordinary European citizens, innovation, they believe, is key to tackling this challenge. 8,000 new medicines in the pipeline globally and new breakthroughs such as mRNA and gene therapy, will provide novel solutions to rare diseases and conditions. To enable this, European authorities must set the right conditions to allow research to thrive.
In an interview with The Brussels Times, Peter Guenter, CEO Healthcare at Merck, and member of the board of EFPIA, set out the urgent needs for his sector, and for patients in the post-Covid era. European pharmaceutical companies played a pivotal role in the fight against the pandemic.
“Covid-19 has been a case in point,” he told us from Germany.“ It’s only because we
have a very strong and resilient ecosystem in Europe that we have been able not only to immediately find new technology in mRNA with BioNTech, but also scale it up in terms of clinical development and manufacturing.”
Since the start of the pandemic, more than 13.5 billion doses of mRNA-derived vaccines have been administered globally, a feat previously thought impossible. Not only did the pandemic highlight the importance of persistent and sustained innovation of healthcare, Guenter argued, but also revealed inherent health challenges and shortcomings to be solved, which can only be solved with increased investment.
“We are confronted with an ageing population, and the number one challenge now is healthy ageing. How can we better manage diseases like Alzheimer’s, diabetes, cardiovascular diseases, or cancers, which typically become chronic diseases,” he said.
Innovation is not limited to curative medicines, but also therapies that improve quality of life or are preventative. Medical treatment, apps, and educational campaigns are an important part of avoiding diabetes and
cancers. Pharma has a role to play in this paradigm shift.
The pharmaceutical sector brings unprecedented levels of investment to Europe. In 2022, R&D investment amounted to €44 billion, hiring some 865,000 employees, and bringing €215 billion in added value to the European economy, according to figures from EFPIA. However, as diagnoses increase, the R&D needs of the sector continue to increase.
Development of the pharma sector, Guenter believes, should be considered an investment into the larger European healthcare ecosystem.“ Medicines are part of the solution. Medicines keep patients out of hospital, avoid surgeries and transplantation, and decrease the burden of care workers,” Guenter explained.
Investment in R&D for new medicines is also important in the treatment of rare diseases. To date, only five percent of rare conditions have a therapeutic option. Merck and EFPIA aim to change that.
Through the Rare Disease Moonshot programme, pharmaceutical companies engage in non-competitive joint research and regulatory science on rare diseases, ensuring “continued progress” in research. “For ultra-rare diseases, the solution will come by pooling resources,” the Merck boss believes. “The Rare Disease Moonshot aims to find new momentum and impetus to address these conditions.”
New technologies employed by Merck and other EFPIA members have already unlocked therapies for the treatment of diseases, such as CAR-T cell therapy for cancers or personalised medicines. Increased use of artificial intelligence (AI) is also helping Merck to unlock new solutions and more efficient R&D.
“The promise of AI and big data analytics is that you will have more shots on goal faster, more cost-effectively, and therefore R&D productivity will significantly increase,” Guenter noted. He remains optimistic that the pace of innovation should further accelerate in the next 20 years.
Innovation, however, is dependent on the regulatory framework. Europe must remain competitive in developing evaluating and approving new technologies, the Merck CEO affirmed. “The definition of unmet medical needs must remain inclusive, recognising the importance of step innovations to improve patient quality of life.”
Under current European Commission pharma-legislation proposals, Europe risks losing a third of its share of global R&D by 2040, EFPIA warned in November 2023. This amounts to €2 billion in lost R&D innovation each year. In the context of increased global economic and geopolitical division, this would risk Europe’s position
as an innovation hub.
“The EC proposed reducing regulatory data protection from eight years to six years, which would result in fewer products being developed and launched in Europe. Intellectual property is the lifeblood of innovation. We need a strong IP system in place to retain our innovative power in Europe, otherwise innovation might move somewhere else or in some cases do not happen at all,” Guenter warned.
Regionalisation also poses a threat to innovation. Far from creating “Fortress Europe”, the Merck boss advocates for “strategic interdependence” with China, converting Europe into an “innovative hub that ensures both European and Chinese patients benefit from mutual innovation.”
Looking forward to the future, Guenter points to initiatives such as the European Health Data Space (EHDS) as a means to further innovation. Medical information sharing will help private companies find new insights, repurpose medicines, discover new targets, and make Europe “a formidable hub for pharmaceutical innovation.” Nevertheless, the EHDS needs to strike the right balance between a broad availability of data and the protection of IP rights. Anything deviating from this principle might have detrimental effects on the attractiveness of the EU as a place for pharmaceutical research and innovation.
“We should continue to be ambitious, striving for a world where future generations can prevent or live well with diseases… benefiting from ongoing advancements in healthcare technology,” Guenter concluded.
Innovation is not limited to curative medicines, but also therapies that improve quality of life or are preventative. Medical treatment, apps, and educational campaigns are an important part of avoiding diabetes and cancers.
For Dylan Borlée, running runs in the family. With his brothers, Jonathan and Kevin, the Borlées made up three-quarters of Belgium’s brilliant 4x400m relay team, but now he is the last one standing. As he hits peak form, he tells Leo Cendrowicz why the Belgian Tornadoes could clinch gold this year
Dylan Borlée saunters into Cook & Book, the sprawling café bookstore opposite the Woluwe Shopping Center, and just a short walk from the Stade Fallon running track where he usually trains. The svelte, handsome athlete is alone, which should not be unusual – but for the fact that he is typically associated with others.
A veteran of the Rio and Tokyo Olympics, Borlée is one of Belgium’s best medal hopes in Paris this summer, as part of the 4x400m relay team (by his own admission, the individual 400m title might be a step too far).
The 31-year-old is also the youngest member of the extraordinary Borlée family. Like his older siblings – Olivia and twins Jonathan and Kevin – Dylan has been on starting blocks and podiums at the world’s top running meets.
The Borlées are not merely a Belgian phenomenon, but a worldwide one. Olivia, 38, was part of the gold-medal-winning women’s 4x100 relay team at the 2008 Olympics in Beijing. Twins Kevin and Jonathan, both 36, have been part of relay teams winning countless world and European titles, as well as individual medals since 2010, most recently gold in the 2022 World Indoor Championships (Jonathan’s 44.43 for the 400m in 2012 is still the Belgian record). Their father, Jacques, 66, also their coach, ran for Belgium in the 1980 Olympics in Moscow.
This year, however, Dylan will be without his brothers. Eight years ago, at the 2016 Rio Olympics, Dylan, Jonathan and Kevin accounted for three-quarters of the Belgian relay team that came fourth. Now Dylan is the last runner standing, so to
speak. Olivia retired long ago, and while Jonathan and Kevin still run, they no longer compete at the highest level.
Now on the verge of what he considers his strongest year, Dylan is honing his mental and physical preparation ahead of Paris. "The pressure is immense,” he says as he orders a ginger ale. “Everyone's talking about Paris, but for me, it’s about staying healthy and focused on the present. I take it one step at a time, concentrating on daily routines. A bit of pressure is good; it sharpens my focus."
Just behind him, a big book on Bob Dylan is on display, offering a pleasing ‘Dylan’ next to his head. He laughs at the coincidence. But he wasn’t named after the singer – Olivia, six when he was born, chose the name simply because she liked it.
But now he wants to talk about running. He has new relay partners – Alexander Doom, Jonathan Sacoor and Christian Iguacel – and the aim is to build the best team, whoever he passes the baton to.
"Creating a successful relay team is like assembling a puzzle," he says. "It's not about simply choosing the fastest runners. Each athlete brings a unique quality, whether it's experience, speed at specific points in the race, or the ability to handle the baton with precision. Decisions are often made at the last minute, factoring in tests, current form, and overall fitness."
There is, he says, a delicate balance of individual strengths and collective harmony. "Every athlete has to prove themself, especially when everyone is fit and ready. It's a competitive atmosphere, but it's rooted in mutual support and respect."
Before getting carried away about his prospects, it is worth remembering Bel -
Eight years ago, at the 2016 Rio Olympics, Dylan, Jonathan and Kevin accounted for three-quarters of the Belgian relay team that came fourth. Now Dylan is the last runner standing, so to speak.
It's not about simply choosing the fastest runners. Each athlete brings a unique quality, whether it's experience, speed at specific points in the race, or the ability to handle the baton with precision.
gium has never even been on the podium for either the relay or the 400m individual events at the Olympics. However, they have come agonisingly close in the relay several times: fourth in Tokyo three years ago and Rio in 2016, fifth in London in 2012 and fourth again in Beijing in 2008. In the individual event, only in 2012 have any Borlées reached the final, with Kevin and Jonathan coming fifth and sixth respectively.
Can the so-called Belgian Tornadoes finally catch relay giants like the United States, Britain and Jamaica?
Dylan wryly notes that they have already done so this year, winning the 4x400m relay at the World Indoor Championships in Glasgow in March. And he says they have an exceptional team spirit. “We want to fight for each other. We don't just
think about ourselves we also think about the other guys,” he says. “For example, at the World Relays in the Bahamas, I hurt myself a little and my first thought was the guys in the team rather than thinking that my season might be over through injury. It's instinct that takes over and we think about the team.”
Dylan is also hitting his best form, which is hardly a given during a runner’s career. “This is my strongest year in terms of training, it's going really well, so I'm really confident,” he says. “I had a very good season in 2023, beating my record – and it’s the first time in my career where I did it two years in a row. And I feel capable of beating my record again. But I have to stay focused,” he says, before breaking from French into English: “I don't take this for granted.”
Dylan fell into a slump after the Tokyo games in 2021, stagnating after years of steady improvement. “I couldn't move on to the next level. I couldn't find the key.”
He turned himself around mainly by rethinking his mental preparations. “I learned how to feel good about myself,” he says. “I run a lot with my emotions, with my feelings – I’m not a robot – and I used to find it hard to get in my zone. But now, I know myself a lot better. And I’ve found it is a lot more fun now.”
He is also thinking about the long-term prospects for the Tornadoes, which, he emphasises, do not just involve the Borlées. “We need to sustain the momentum,” he says. "It’s not just about the present but about fostering a culture that thrives even as individual athletes come and go."
It’s easy to assume that Jacques is the driving force behind the family’s running success, akin to Richard Williams zealously pushing his daughters Venus and Serena to become tennis champions. But Dylan credits Olivia, who was Belgium’s flagbearer at Rio 2016. Inspired by sprinter Kim Gevaert, Olivia started her own training regimen, bringing her father in later. In turn, Jonathan and Kevin also caught the bug. Only second sister, Alizia, 33, broke with the family tradition by not competing.
Dylan says running with his brothers was an unbeatable feeling. “It's difficult to even describe this sensation. It was calming being together because we trust each other so much and we know each other so well – it was like playing together in the garden,” he says. “If I don't win a medal with my brothers, it's not the same thing –I don't have the same emotion.”
He knows the window for running glory has been closing for his brothers, but there
OPERA
RICHARD WAGNER
ALAIN ALTINOGLU, PIERRE AUDI
KRIS DEFOORT
KWAMÉ RYAN, TED HUFFMAN
MIKAEL KARLSSON
ARIANE MATIAKH, IVO VAN HOVE
RICHARD WAGNER
ALAIN ALTINOGLU, PIERRE AUDI
CLAUDIO MONTEVERDI’S OPERA TRILOGY REVISITED
LEONARDO GARCÍA ALARCÓN, RAFAEL R. VILLALOBOS
HAROLD NOBEN
DEBORA WALDMAN, MICHAEL DE COCK & CARME PORTACELI
GEORGES BIZET
NATHALIE STUTZMANN,
DMITRI TCHERNIAKOV
Balance is key. It’s not just what your body needs but what your mind needs. So from time to time, I will have a glass of wine, which can help me to relax.
are still opportunities. “I really hope to be able to run again with them. Will it be possible? I don’t know, but I am so grateful and lucky to have done it because I really experienced emotions where I don't know if I'll be able to experience that again.”
Dylan’s training regimen is gruelling and meticulously planned. "In the base building phase, we train 20 to 30 hours a week, including physiotherapy and mobility exercises. As competitions approach, normally all the work must have been done and the focus shifts to quality over quantity,” he says.
Diet also plays a pivotal role. "Each athlete's needs are different and we shouldn’t just copy each other,” he says, before noting that he has to watch that he eats enough as he loses weight easily.
Snacks and fast food are avoided, as well as late-night meals, but the regime is not too strict. “Balance is key. It’s not just what your body needs but what your mind needs. So from time to time, I will have a glass of wine, which can help me to relax.”
He also needs distractions. That can include his cinema and music, but Dylan’s first choice is going out to dinner with his wife and friends. He also mentions playing video games – his current favourite is Apex Legends – and following other sports, like NBA basketball and English Premier League football (he’s an Arsenal fan).
In a few weeks, he will be in one of the most intense sporting environments ever. What is the atmosphere in the Olympic Village like?
“Rio was the first time, so I felt it as a little kid,” he says. “We were closed off from the world in these large buildings where all the athletes are we all eat together in a huge refectory where you bump into superstars like Rafael Nadal.”
But Tokyo, delayed a year because of the Covid-19 pandemic, was overshadowed by health precautions. “In the refectory, there was Plexiglas between everyone, we had to do tests all the time, and there was no crowd in the stadium,” he said. “At the same time, I'm grateful for that because it made me realise that maybe I was putting a little too much pressure on myself.”
Now he’s hoping for something else. “Rio and Tokyo were two completely different experiences but I want Paris to be something else,” he says. “I definitely want to feel this fervour around sport in Paris, to really feel the enthusiasm.”
He also has to think about life after the games. September will be a fallow period when he doesn’t train at all. He says the month-long hiatus before the new season is essential for the body and soul – but after the mental and physical pause, he’ll come back freshly motivated.
He’ll still do sport during the break, but other disciplines – cycling, padel and football – although he has to be careful about injuries. The Borlées long avoided skiing for that reason but did so two years ago. “Sometimes, mentally, we have to find fun things to do and not focus only on athletics,” he says
After that, he has nuptials to think of. His civil marriage to Celine Vrancx, a biomedical researcher, was earlier this year but their wedding with friends and family will be in the autumn. “I have always had difficulty focusing on two big things at the same time, but fortunately my wife takes care of it much more than me,” he says. “What happens next is something to look forward to – it’s a bit scary but it is exciting too.”
The fresh kiss of crisp morning air. Dappled sunlight. Toes touch the baseline. Ready to return.
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Of all Subarus produced in the last decade, 97% are still on the road. Mileages of three to four hundred thousand kilometers and more are no exception.
There are only a few car brands with their own character, Subaru is one of them - quirky and for the enthusiast who dares to distinguish themselves. Let’s take a deeper dive into this brand which has safety, reliability, and driving fun in its DNA.
Size does matter, even when it comes to car brands. Subaru produces approximately 900,000 cars per year, with about 70% of the total volume is sold in America, the largest market. The home country, Japan, is the second-largest market and in Europe, the brand sells around 30,000 cars annually. Subaru is seen as a small brand but to put the production numbers into perspective, Subaru is about the size of Opel and twice the size of Volvo.
Subaru is mainly known for its SUVs and Crossovers, all spacious, safe, and very capable cars both on and off-road. The brand is also known for its blue and yellow WRX STI rally cars, which made history by becoming three-time world rally champions. The focus now is on SUVs and EVs. New is the Solterra, the brand's first fully electric SUV.
Subaru embraces differentiating technologies, not for the sake of being different,
but because of the benefits of these unique technologies. Every Subaru with an internal combustion engine has a boxer engine. Due to its flat design, the engine sits low in the car. Safe, because the engine slides under the car in a frontal collision. This construction method also positively influences the road holding with a low center of gravity. The brand has now produced over 20 million boxer engines.
All Subarus come with four-wheel drive as standard, proven to be safe in winter conditions. AWD also has advantages in the wet and the dry, and there is always grip, even when cornering. Additionally, the straight-line stability of cars with AWD is better, the tyres wear more evenly, and there is more driving pleasure. With AWD, Subaru offers peace of mind, the relaxed feeling that the car gives you in difficult conditions. There are no clearer arguments for choosing AWD, especially now that the weather is becoming more extreme in our part of Europe. Subaru has produced more than 21 million cars with Symmetrical All-Wheel Drive over the past 50 years.
Subaru aims for zero road casualties by 2030, thanks to special technology and active safety measures, as well as thick Japanese steel, ring-shaped cage constructions, and a driver support system called EyeSight. This works with two cameras because these cameras see more than laser or radar and estimate contrast better. It acts as an extra pair of eyes for the driver and helps avoid collisions and is truly one of the best safety systems in the industry, according to independent safety organizations. EyeSight is always standard on every Subaru and so far more than five million cars with this safety system have been delivered.
The location of the cameras has been deliberately chosen. Parking damage is easily incurred (think of a reversing car with a tow bar that pulverizes a bumper while parking). For cars with radar or laser, this easily results in many thousands of euros in damage. Not with EyeSight, which sits high and dry behind the front windscreen. You should also take that dryness literally. Have you ever driven with laser or radar in a blizzard? The systems are quickly clogged up and no
longer work. With EyeSight, windshield wipers and heating keep the window cleaner under appalling conditions, so the system works better. Are there limits? If the human eye can no longer see, EyeSight can no longer see either.
Subaru is a brand with an eye for detail, which means that every Subaru is full of all kinds of clever features. How about the thin A-pillar that does not obstruct the view, the large mirrors mounted on the doors, the large glass area, and the narrow C-pillar for optimal all-round visibility? There's more: a step on the sill (Outback and Forester) at the back door makes it easier to load stuff on the
roof. Or a washer on the reversing camera (Forester and Outback). And have you ever tried to operate the AC knobs with gloves on? In a Subaru, it is no issue.
Safe and reliable, that is what Subaru is. Of all Subarus produced in the last decade, 97% are still on the road. Mileages of three to four hundred thousand kilometers and more are no exception. The brand always scores high in reliability surveys, including those from the American JD Power and various national Consumer Associations.
Solterra is Subaru's first EV. Is Subaru late with such a car? Perhaps, but there is a nuance: the brand will never be at the forefront of new developments. That may be the fate of a small and independent brand. It also has to do with the requirements the brand sets for its models. The EV must also be a true Subaru, a car that makes possible whatever you decide to do today. The Solterra will take you wherever you want to go. Therefore, a true Subaru. And 100% electric.
So, Subaru. A brand that attaches great importance to safety. Hence four-wheel drive, boxer engine, EyeSight/SafetySense, and a wealth of safety equipment. Subaru also values Peace of Mind and non-conformity. Subaru looks like a Subaru and has technology that no one else uses. That technology is not there just to be different, but because it works. There is a sacred belief in that technology. Finally, Subaru finds driving pleasure and adventure important. Don't see the car as a limitation, but as a means to reach your goal, in a way that is fun too. That's Subaru.
www.subaru.be
Subaru aims for zero road casualties by 2030, thanks to special technology and active safety measures, as well as thick Japanese steel, ringshaped cage constructions, and a driver support system called EyeSight.
It seems implausible now, but just two years after the end of the First World War, Antwerp hosted the 1920 Olympic Games. It was a miracle of postwar reconstruction and reconciliation, but as Leo Cendrowicz writes, the city pulled off a spectacular show that may well have saved the Olympic movement.
Less than two years after the signing of the Armistice ending what was then known as the Great War, the strongest and fastest men and women of their generation gathered in Antwerp for an unprecedented festival of sport and culture.
One of the most remarkable episodes in Belgian history, the Antwerp Olympic Games of 1920 aimed to draw a line under the war that had so devastated the country.
But the Antwerp Olympics were also extraordinary because they were thrown together at breakneck speed. In April 1919, six months after the end of the conflict and just 12 months before the Games were set to begin, the International Olympic Committee named Antwerp as the host of the seventh Olympiad of the modern era.
While Belgium had been suggested as host nation as far back as 1912, the First World War interrupted the entire Olympic process (the 1916 Games in Berlin were understandably cancelled). Brussels was originally named, but before the war broke out, Royal Beerschot Football Club persuaded the authorities to switch to Antwerp, arguing that the proud city of Rubens was more suited to the Olympic culture.
But confirming Antwerp was a huge risk. Even then, Olympics took at least four years to prepare for, and that assumed the host country had not been ravaged by a war of unprecedented savagery and destruction. Ypres – or Ieper – the site of some of the bloodiest fighting just a few years earlier, had not been cleared of weapons or body parts. Indeed, many of the foreign athletes competing already knew Flanders, having served as soldiers for the Allied forces.
Another disruptive factor was the lingering 1918–1920 Spanish flu, which claimed between
25 and 50 million lives around the world, likely making it even more deadly than the Covid-19 pandemic.
Heavily bombed during the First World War, Antwerp nonetheless responded to the challenge with vigour. The first stone of the transformed Beerschot Stadium, the oldest football field in Belgium, was laid by mayor Jan De Vos on July 4, 1919. The city tried to turn the war into an asset, with advertisements in sports magazines beckoning, “Come visit the battlefields of Liberated Belgium!"
A key political issue was whether to invite the defeated powers from the war. Baron de Coubertin, the founder of the modern Olympic movement, left the choice to the host country. But a demonstration by locals through the streets of Antwerp two months before the official opening indicated how strong feelings were against them. Germany, Austria, Bulgaria, Hungary and Turkey were not invited.
Record numbers still attended: there were 29 nations and 2,626 athletes competing in 154 events in 22 sports. Some were from newly created countries like Yugoslavia, Estonia, Czechoslovakia (succeeding Bohemia) and New Zealand (no longer part of a combined team with Australia).
Indeed, the echoes of war were felt throughout the games. At the opening ceremony, many of the athletes were soldiers and marched in uniform. The stadium itself had a plaster statue of a Belgian soldier heaving a grenade.
The games were officially opened on April 20 by King Albert and began with a Catholic
Confirming Antwerp was a huge risk. Even then, Olympics took at least four years to prepare for, and that assumed the host country had not been ravaged by a war of unprecedented savagery and destruction.
Boxing and wrestling were staged in the zoology hall of Antwerp Zoo. The swimming and diving competitions were held in the moat that surrounded the old city, with spectators on benches erected on ancient ramparts.
mass, honouring athletes killed in the war.
There were many firsts at the opening ceremony. The first flight of white doves, symbolising peace and brotherhood, was released - ironically accompanied by the firing of a gun salute. The first Olympic oath was pronounced by former war Belgian pilot Victor Boin, a freestyle swimmer, water polo player and épée fencer. And Antwerp saw the first use of the Olympic flag, one of the most recognisable symbols in the world, with the distinctive five interlocking rings signifying the union of five continents.
Most of the events were held in the newly constructed stadium. But boxing and wrestling were staged in the zoology hall of Antwerp Zoo. The swimming and diving competitions were held in the moat that surrounded the old city, with spectators on benches erected on ancient ramparts. Rowing was held at the end of the Willebroeck canal, amid reservoirs, oil storage cans and factories. Yachting was moved to Ostend, and shooting events were held at an army camp of Beverloo, 60km away – except for running deer shooting and trapshooting, which was near Antwerp.
The Games lasted almost five months, ending on September 12, as they combined both winter and summer events. There were some unexpected events on the programme,
including polo, rugby, tug-of-war and korfball. Perhaps the most unusual of Olympic disciplines were the art competitions: medals were awarded in five categories – architecture, literature, music, painting and sculpture – for works inspired by sport-related themes.
The Belgian public was generally indifferent to the games. Some of the events, such as ice hockey and rugby, had never been seen before and were dismissed as exotic curiosities. Only swimming, boxing, wrestling and football drew big crowds.
The women’s competitions faced particular prejudice. De Coubertin, obsessed with the male, chivalric ideal, was against women taking part and Count Henri Baillet Latour, Belgium’s chief Olympic figure, was a misogynist. Despite this, Antwerp can claim to have paved the way for the greater acceptance of women into the Olympics.
There were other problems. Rain left ruts and depressions on the track surface in the stadium, causing the runners constant worry – and it rained almost constantly during those August days of 1920.
The water for the swimming and diving events was dank, dark and, at just 10ºC, frigid: divers brought woollen stockings, socks and mufflers to keep warm and gave each other rubdowns between dives, while several water polo players were pulled out of the water on the verge of hypothermia
In the final medal count, Belgium came fifth with 14 golds, 11 silvers and 11 bronzes (behind the US, Sweden, Great Britain and Finland). One of the lost important golds was that in football: the Belgians, already nicknamed the Red Devils, won the final after Czechoslovakia stormed off the pitch; in an era before the World Cup, could legitimately consider themselves world champions.
The football triumph was, unfortunately, one of the only upsides to the Olympics as far as the public was concerned. Antwerp lost money on the event – although it is by no means the only Olympic city to do so – as the organisers overestimated the economic benefits to the local economy and few considered intangible benefits like boosting local pride.
But if the games felt like an indulgence in 1920, they would come to be appreciated in time for helping relaunch the Olympics. To have athletes coming from all over the world only two years after the last shot was fired was an almost unbelievable feat of management
Baron de Coubertin was effusive in his gratitude. “Belgium has now succeeded in
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setting a record of intelligent and rapid organisation or – if I am allowed to speak in less academic but more expressive terms – a new record for its skill in improvisation.”
The Antwerp Olympics - which included both summer and winter events - showcased a new generation of athletes. Here are some of the
sporting highlights:
Finnish middle-distance runner Paavo Nurmi won the first three of his total of Olympic gold medals. The ‘Flying Finn’, whose statue stands outside the Olympic stadium in Helsinki, was forced to quit school at the age of 12 and work as an errand runner. Fellow Finn Joonas ‘Jonni’ Myyrä shattered the javelin record by more than five metres with his 65.78m throw.
France’s Joseph Guillemot, a pack-of-cigarettes-a-day man and wartime victim of poison gas attacks, won the 5,000m title. He nearly repeated his feat in the 10,000m but suffered from stomach cramps and shoes that were two sizes too big after his own were stolen. He still managed to win silver.
The Canadian side that won the ice hockey gold was made up entirely of players of the Winnipeg Falcons. Even more remarkably, all but one of them were Icelandic immigrants, who had cut their teeth playing against each other as none of the other Winnipeg teams wanted to play a squad consisting of "ragtag immigrants."
South America claimed its first gold medal in 1920 when Guilherme Paraense of Brazil won the rapid-fire pistol event.
French ace Suzanne Lenglen, the first real global tennis star, won the Olympic singles gold, losing only four games along the way.
Italian fencer Nedo Nadi won the individual foil and sabre titles and led the Italians to victory in all three team events, for a record of five fencing gold medals.
American diver Aileen Riggin, from Newport, Rhode Island, became the youngest gold medal winner at just 14 years and 119 days. At 1.40m tall and weighing 29.5kg, she was also the smallest athlete at the 1920 Olympics.
At the other end of the scale, 72-year-old Swedish shooter Oscar Swahn won silver in the team double-shot running deer event to become the oldest medallist ever.
American Eddie Eagan is the only athlete to win gold medals during the summer and winter Olympic disciplines. He won the light-heavyweight boxing title in Antwerp and in 1932 at Lake Placid, he was part of winning bobsleigh team.
Jack Brendan Kelly, a 20-year-old manual worker from Philadelphia, won two rowing titles in the space of just 30 minutes. His daughter, Grace Kelly, would later become a Hollywood star and Princess of Monaco.
US swimmer Ethelda Bleibtrey won gold medals in all three women's contests –100m and 300m freestyle and the 4x100m relay – and broke the world record in every one of her five races.
Ukelele-strumming, Hawaiian surfing pioneer Duke Kahanamoku won golds in the 100m freestyle and the relay, while also representing the US in water polo.
Britain’s 1500m silver medallist Philip Noel-Baker would later become an MP and nuclear disarmament activist. In 1959 he became the only Olympian ever awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.
We promise that by the end of your child’s first playtime they’ll have made made new friends.
We all know what it’s like to be new, it can be daunting, particularly for children starting a new school, possibly in a new country. Because of this we make a promise - that by the first playtime your child will have someone to play with and will have made new friends.
The scene is set from day one, the first minutes, the first hours, if a child is going to feel happy, welcome, loved and cared for. In order to build the confidence they need to thrive, they need to have that feeling from the minute they walk through our doors on that very first day.
Confidence is one of the British School of Brussels' ‘Whole School’ principle values, and a core part of our Guiding Statements. Primary School is where it all starts, the beginning of the formative aspect of our values-driven, unified and holistic education.
One of the better ways to learn is through discovery, and our Primary School teachers plan different thematic ‘Units of Discovery’ every year. These themes are based upon key
concepts and central ideas which draw on the children’s experiences to provide a more meaningful context for learning - learning with confidence.
Our academic year is punctuated by so many wonderful events - Book Festival celebrations, drama productions, sports tournaments and concerts - that it feels like something magical is happening every day! The truth is it does.
Our students are simply incredible, and we pride ourselves on providing the best days of learning we know they deserve.
We have a thriving French/English bilingual programme which uses the British curriculum as its foundation, but we’re focused on taking risks and inspiring passions, too. Whilst we have high academic expectations, we give equal weighting to a number of life skills we consider just as important: taking care of ourselves and other people, having respect for the world around us, becoming confident in our own skin and being open to other people’s stories and histories. We work together on cultivating these values every single day.
BSB’s Primary School is the best of both worlds with an inclusive, small-school feel and culture set in an expansive, well-resourced and beautifully- maintained campus.
Students benefit from unrivalled care and support with specialist teachers for languages, art, music and sport, as well as access to our swimming pool, extensive sports facilities and fully equipped theatre.
Ultimately, what sets BSB Primary School apart is the deeply caring environment which many people describe as simply ‘being in the air’. Whilst our academic prowess is evident in our consistently high results, it is the culture of kindness, respect and consideration for others that defines us.
This culture is palpable in every interaction and woven into the fabric of our community. As Neil Ringrose, our Head of Primary, reflects, the positive feedback received from parents encapsulates the essence of our school—a place where joy abounds, hearts are touched, and futures are shaped. “A special part of my job is receiving the glowing testimonials from parents - it makes my job completely worthwhile,” he says. “Just thinking about them makes me smile every day.”
Many of these testimonials highlight the unique feeling at our school. “The atmosphere in your school is special,” one parent said. “It’s joyous; for children and, as importantly, adults.”
Another said: “I don’t think there has been a single day over the past three years where our children woke up and were not looking forward to going to school! Like all parents, we
want our children to be excited to learn, discover and be curious; BSB has certainly nurtured this to the fullest!”
A progressive education
Inclusive and international in our outlook, we create curious, confident and courageous learners and families that chose us because they recognise this progressive, all-encompassing approach.
It’s not only our promise that by the end of your child’s first playtime, they’ll have made new friends; but also that when they leave –whether after a few months or many years – they’ll cherish the values, skills and knowledge they’ve learned here, that they’ll carry with them for life.
To find out more visit www.britishschool.be
When your child leaves BSB they’ll cherish the values, skills and knowledge they’ve learned here and carry them with them for life.
Neil Ringrose Head of Primary School & Vice-Principal
The Olympic Games showcase sporting prowess from 40 separate disciplines, but there are many events that it overlooks. Harry Pearson celebrates the uniquely Belgian games that have yet to be accepted as Olympic events
Belgium boasts Olympic gold medals for both the equestrian long jump (Constant van Langhendonck, 1900) and live pigeon shooting (Leo de Lunden, 1900), as well as for more conventional sports such as the men’s hockey and women’s heptathlon. Yet while the nation has excelled in cycling and judo and punched above its weight on the track thanks to the likes of Emile Puttemans and Ivo Van Damme, there’s little doubt that Belgium’s medal haul in Paris would be greatly enhanced by the inclusion of some of the country’s more singular pursuits and games.
Archery has been part of the Olympics since the first modern games were held in Greece in 1896 and Belgium has done remarkably well at it collecting 21 medals. Sadly, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) has steadfastly ignored a less conventional version of the sport, popinjay, or, as it is known in Dutch, staande wip.
This involves firing arrows at targets set on a tower high above your head. Since arrows come down as well as go up, it is by no means the safest way to shoot them, which may explain why popinjay has pretty much died out everywhere in Europe except Belgium, the Netherlands and a couple of places in Scotland.
Flanders is a stronghold of vertical archery and you’ll see skeletal shooting towers looming mysteriously above fields in places like Eeklo and Havre. There’s even an exhibition of historic staande wip artefacts in the Archer’s House in Watten. In Scotland, popinjay is more or less a ceremonial event, but in Belgium, it is different, especially when the Flemish meet the Dutch in keenly contested international fixtures for which the 1970s parental catchphrase, “It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye” might have been invented.
Golf has been a feature of the games since 2016 (there were earlier Olympic gold tournaments in 1900 and 1904 though sadly the
event scheduled for the Antwerp Games of 1920 had to be cancelled due to a lack of entries). So far Belgium has made little impact, but that might be very different if the IOC were to include one of golf’s ancestors, jeu de crosse (also called jeu de chole and crossage).
Popular in the Wallonian Black Country and across the French border in coal towns like Valenciennes and Lens (the game features in Emile Zola’s mining novel, Germinal), jeu de crosse is played using clubs made from beechwood and iron that resemble one of those makeshift weapons the Flemish battered the French knights with at the Battle of the Golden Spur.
The capsule-shaped ball (the cholette), meanwhile, looks alarmingly like a huge suppository. As in golf, the object is to reach the target - perhaps a tree, a plank of wood or (this is Belgium after all) a beer barrel– located a couple of hundred metres away with the fewest shots. There’s an annual tournament on Ash Wednesdays in the Hainaut city of Chievres, and games are played regularly on the course belonging to the Societe Les Amis du Pic et du Plat in the village of Baudour near Mons. It’s a measure of how popular jeu de crosse once was in southern Belgium that the game has a patron saint, Saint Anthony. Saint Anthony is also the patron saint of lost things, which likely comes in handy when searching for your cholette in a ditch.
Basque pelota made a full appearance in the 1900 Olympics (Spain won, though, to be fair, they were the only country that bothered entering) and was a demonstration event in 1924, 1968 and 1994. Despite that, no place has yet been found for jeu de balle (also known as balle pelote), a sport that until World War Two was more popular in Brussels and Wallonia than football.
Played on ballodromes – long, oddly asymmetrical, funnel-shaped pitches usually located in town squares - jeu de balle features two teams of five players who strike a hard
This involves firing arrows at targets set on a tower high above your head. Since arrows come down as well as go up, it is by no means the safest way to shoot them.
Jeu de crosse is played using clubs made from beechwood and iron that resemble one of those makeshift weapons the Flemish battered the French knights with at the Battle of the Golden Spur.
ball – about the size of the one used in squash – with heavily gloved hands. Although there is no net, to the untrained eye the game looks as if it might be the offspring of a one-night stand between tennis and volleyball. Though demand for parking places in town centres has severely curtailed the space allocated to
jeu de balle (sadly no longer played in the Place de Jeu de Balle in Brussels, for example), there are still hundreds of clubs spread across Walloon Brabant, Hainaut, Namur, Luxembourg and the far eastern fringes of Flanders.
The IOC has flirted with the idea of including lawn bowls in the Olympics since it featured as a demonstration event in 1988. This gives a window of hope to fans of the medieval sport of krulbollen. For centuries this 800-year-old pursuit was banned by the authorities for the damage it did to church windows, gravestones and public buildings. Yet its players would not be deterred and krulbollen is still played enthusiastically across West Flanders.
It’s a game that you might best be described as petanque played with cheeses. The big wooden discs that are rolled towards the target – a sturdy metal pin known as the staak – weigh around two kilos and are heavier on one side so they curve as they roll. Krulbollen is played on packed sand pitches outside cafes in the same small towns that produce Flanders’ cycling heroes, usually to a soundtrack of sage advice and wisecracks. Another West Flanders game featuring wooden cheeses, Trabol, is played in a concave alley that looks like a storm drain.
Billiards is campaigning vigorously to be included in the games of 2028, yet we have so far heard less clamour from adherents of the far superior game of jeu de fer. Every September for the past 50 years, in Tournai’s 17th century Halle-aux-Draps, 250 or so competitors gather for the national championship. The players –in teams of two - use what looks like sawn-off snooker cues to propel pucklike iron discs polished with paraffin down a narrow two-and-a-half metre table coated with marble dust towards the ‘etaques’ (goal in Picardian French) at the far end.
The path is not straightforward as the way is blocked by a series of iron hazards that include
pins and a bridge. It’s a hushed affair, the silence punctuated only by the stifled yelps and groans of the participants and spectators. Yet though there are no flashing lights, buzzers or bells, the game being played under the vaulted ceiling of the great cloth hall is the grandfather of the one mastered with such brilliance by the deaf, dumb and blind kid from The Who’s 1969 rock opera Tommy. Jeu de fer traces its origins back to bagatelle, first presented to France’s King Louis XIV in the 18th century by the Comte D’Artois at his Château de Bagatelle. Its descendent is, of course, pinball.
Perhaps these sports are not dramatic enough to attract the attention of the IOC. Neither, one suspects would De Panne’s annual Championship of Gullscreeching or the ancient Flemish pursuit of vinkensetting – competitive finch chirping.
Dating back to the 16th century, vinkensport, sees competitors making a chalk mark on a long stick every time their prize finch – held in a neat wooden box at their feet - chirrups. The bird that sings the most times in an hour is the winner (in the 2007 contest, one finch was reported to have sung a record 1,278 times in one hour). In his 1994 BBC documentary on Belgium, Jonathan Meades observes a tad sarcastically that during such competitions “excitement often reaches fever pitch”. You’ll find a museum devoted to the sport in Hulste near Harelbeke.
Yet, if neither of these avian-related events is quite sexy enough for the Olympics you certainly cannot say the same of what to many fans remains the blue riband event of the Belgian sporting calendar - the annual collision of
stilt-jousters in Namur. Dressed in Renaissance costumes and towering above the crowds on their wooden legs, the Echasseurs Namurois butt, kick and trip each other with the ferocious clacking sound of a roomful of grannies crocheting baby clothes. Anyone who has watched the annual contest for the Golden Stilt (held on the third Sunday of September) will know that this is a sport that has greater energy and produces more raw excitement than any amount of break-dancing, surfing and skateboarding. So come on Thomas Bach, what are you waiting for?
Dressed in Renaissance costumes and towering above the crowds on their wooden legs, the Echasseurs Namurois butt, kick and trip each other with the ferocious clacking sound of a roomful of grannies crocheting baby clothes.
Belgium’s football squad boasts some of the world’s finest players, but do they have the chops to go all the way in Euro 2024? Dennis Abbott meets coach Domenico Tedesco, Axel Witsel and Maxim De Cuyper ahead of the tournament to see if the Red Devils can pull it together this time
Belgium’s so-called ‘golden generation’ – which didn’t actually win any silverware – is over and today the Red Devils are viewed as long shots to lift the European Championship trophy in Germany this summer.
On the day the squad is announced, the bookies have them as 22-1 outsiders to win the month-long tournament, far behind favourites England, France, Germany, Spain and Italy – the countries where most of Belgium’s top players ply their trade at club level.
Coach Domenico Tedesco won’t mind the long-shot odds at all. Low expectations mean less pressure at Euro 2024, where Belgium’s group stage opponents are Romania, Slovakia and Ukraine.
But, make no mistake, his team is in it to win it.
While the likes of Eden Hazard are gone, they still boast star quality with Kevin De Bruyne, Romelu Lukaku, Jérémy Doku, Youri Tielemans and Charles De Ketelaere all capable of striking fear into the toughest of opponents.
“I have a really good feeling with this squad,” says Tedesco as he unveils his 25-man selection at the Belgian training centre in Tubize. “Everyone is a potential starting player. The mix is good, the feeling is positive.”
It is an exciting line-up, based on the classic combo of experience and youth, albeit with one glaring omission: superstar keeper Thibaut Courtois. The Real Madrid number one, described by teammate Luka Modrić as “the best goalkeeper in the world,” fell out big-time with Tedesco after being snubbed for the captaincy last summer following Hazard’s retirement. The coach later claimed to have “tried absolutely everything” to build bridges with Courtois, who reacted on social media with three Pinocchio emojis – effectively branding the boss a liar.
Not the best way to smooth things over.
While a fit Courtois is a huge loss, Tedesco stressed that can still count on three “brilliant” goalkeepers in Koen Casteels, expected to be his first choice in Germany, Thomas Kaminski and Matz Sels.
The absence of Courtois was expected, as was, to a lesser degree, the return of Axel Witsel, who called time on his international career after Belgium’s disappointing exit at the group stage in the 2022 World Cup, only to later U-turn, declaring he was still open to adding to his 130 caps.
Unsure if Witsel was genuine about a comeback, Tedesco travelled to Spain to meet the Atlético Madrid star and personally persuade him to return to the fold.
“I wanted to look into his eyes. He immediately said yes,” he says. Witsel’s experience and versatility was a key factor.
“He’s able to play number six or as a central defender,” explained the charismatic Italian-German who took over as coach from Roberto Martinez, now managing Portugal and Cristiano Ronaldo, in February 2023.
The main surprises in the squad are the inclusion of Witsel’s 19-year-old Atlético team-mate, Arthur Vermeeren, despite making only a handful of appearances since his €18 million move from Antwerp in January, and Maxim De Cuyper, the 23-year-old Club Brugge defender, yet to earn his first cap – more of whom later.
As well as Atlético, two other clubs each have two players in the national squad: Anderlecht, with defenders Jan Vertonghen and Zeno Debast, plus Manchester City, who provide Belgium’s captain Kevin De Bruyne and winger Jérémy Doku.
De Bruyne missed the first half of the
Unsure if Witsel was genuine about a comeback, Tedesco travelled to Spain to meet the Atlético Madrid star and personally persuade him to return to the fold.
Striker
Romelu Lukaku also needs his good friend De Bruyne on song. While the 31-year-old big man hasn't had a great season by his standards at Roma, he is Belgium’s record goal scorer and, with the right service, you wouldn’t bet against him notching several more to his tally, especially at the group stage.
season due to injury, but the 32-year-old has been in decent form for the Sky Blues since January, adding a sixth Premier League winners’ medal to his impressive collection. However, he was distinctly under-par and substituted by Pep Guardiola in City’s surprise defeat by rivals Manchester United in the end-of-season FA Cup Final, his display as floppy as his new haircut.
Tedesco will need him at his best in Germany. “I’m very happy Kevin’s back,” he says. “He’s not a guy who speaks a lot but you can lead in different ways, by performing.”
Striker Romelu Lukaku also needs his good friend De Bruyne on song. While the 31-year-old big man hasn't had a great season by his standards at Roma, he is Belgium’s record goal scorer and, with the right service, you wouldn’t bet against him notching several more to his tally, especially at the group stage.
Lois Openda, 24, will probably start up front with Lukaku while Doku’s impressive debut season at Man City, following his €65 million move from Rennes, should guarantee the 22-year-old a starting place. Leandro Trossard rarely disappoints and will be full of confidence after a strong season at Arsenal.
One of Tesdesco’s toughest decisions was leaving out Michy Batshuayi, especially given how well the striker performed this season at Fenerbahçe. The coach phoned him with the bad news. “He’s a brilliant guy. He was very disappointed, very upset,” said Tedesco.
Attacking midfielder Hans Vanaken,
who finished the season strongly to win the Belgian title with Club Brugge, can also count himself unlucky to miss the cut.
A few days after the squad announcement, I’m back at the national team’s Proximus Basecamp training ground and have a chance to speak to Axel Witsel and Maxim De Cuyper in person.
A year ago neither would have expected to be involved in the Euros – Witsel had retired and De Cuyper, though a promising prospect, was out on loan at Westerlo, not deemed ready for Club Brugge’s first team.
Both, however, have enjoyed stellar seasons, with evergreen Witsel making an incredible 50 appearances for Atlético and De Cuyper winning the Belgian title with the Blauw-Zwart of Brugge.
Having just come off the pitch after the new squad’s first training session, Liège-born Witsel is first up.
The first thing you notice about him is his trademark hair, a soft afro, albeit slightly less abundant these days (his father Thierry, a Walloon socialist politician and former pro footballer himself, is of Martiniquais descent).
The Atlético star is tall – 1.86 metres –and looks younger than his 35 years. Perhaps it’s the Spanish diet or climate. But the much-travelled Witsel (former clubs include Standard Liège, Benfica, Zenit St Petersburg, Tianjin Quanjian, where he reputedly earned €18 million in a single season, and Borussia Dortmund) looks happy to be back home.
I ask if Belgium can really win the Euros, given that it is a team in transition and perhaps
a little overreliant on “experienced” – a polite way of saying long-in-the-tooth – players.
Witsel looks down briefly, unable to contain a brief, boyish grin, before composing himself. “In the past, we were a team among the favourites. I don’t think that’s the case today. We are outsiders. But the mix of young players and more experienced players means we have a high-quality group,” he replies.
“Talking about winning is a bit premature. My philosophy is to play game-by-game. I think this is how we should progress during this tournament, but it’s clear that we’ll go as far as possible.”
So not entirely lacking in optimism.
While previously a midfielder in the national team, Witsel has played as a central defender under Atlético coach Diego Simeone. “I had to adapt last year but this season I’ve felt a lot more comfortable in this position,” he says.
Only one player has made more appearances than Witsel for the Red Devils – 37-year-old Vertonghen, with 154 caps at the time of writing before Belgium’s warm-up games against Montenegro and Luxembourg, but the Anderlecht stalwart is recovering from a groin injury picked up late in the season.
Tedesco tends to pair experience and youth at the back so either Vertonghen or Witsel
Goalkeepers: Koen Casteels (Wolfsburg), Thomas Kaminski (Luton Town), Matz Sels (Nottigham Forest)
Defenders: Zeno Debast (Anderlecht), Maxim De Cuyper (Club Brugge), Arthur Theate (Rennes), Wout Faes (Leicester City), Jan Vertonghen (Anderlecht), Thomas Meunier (Trabzonspor), Timothy Castagne (Fulham)
Midfielders: Kevin De Bruyne (Manchester City), Orel Mangala (Olympique Lyonnais, on loan from Nottigham Forest), Amadou Onana (Everton), Youri Tielemans (Aston Villa), Arthur Vermeeren (Atlético Madrid), Axel Witsel (Atlético Madrid), Aster Vranckx (Wolfsburg)
Forwards: Johan Bakayoko (PSV Eindhoven), Yannick Carrasco (Al-Shabab), Charles De Ketelaere (Atalanta, on loan from AC Milan), Jérémy Doku (Manchester City), Romelu Lukaku (Roma, on loan from Chelsea), Dodi Lukebakio (Sevilla), Loïs Openda (RB Leipzig), Leandro Trossard (Arsenal)
could pair with Zeno Debast (20) or Arthur Theate (24).
Could Vertonghen and Witsel (combined age 72) play as centre backs together? “Jan and I will get along well there. We may not be the fastest, but we will solve things differently,” says Witsel.
Another question concerns Witsel’s wife, Rafaella Szabo, a glamorous Instagram influencer and photographer with whom he shares three children, daughters Mai Li and Evi, and son Aydji. How does she feel about his comeback on the international stage?
“I made the decision myself. My wife is super happy for me,” he replies. “We may have wanted to take more holidays…but that’s no big deal. I still enjoy playing. This will be my sixth major tournament and these are the moments which you do it for.”
It’s the uncapped Maxim De Cuyper’s turn in the spotlight. If Witsel looks young for his age, De Cuyper could still be at secondary school.
Wearing a somewhat earnest expression, De Cuyper admits that he didn’t expect to be named in the squad; he didn’t even have the national coach’s phone number. “He sent me a text message with his name. It’s all happened very quickly,” he says.
Maybe everyone looks younger these days.
Wearing a somewhat earnest expression, De Cuyper admits that he didn’t expect to be named in the squad; he didn’t even have the national coach’s phone number. “He sent me a text message with his name. It’s all happened very quickly,” he says.
The young defender has also just come off the training pitch. He’s buzzing, but not overawed, describing Kevin De Bruyne or Romelu Lukaku as “just really normal guys”.
“They have enormous quality on the ball…
hopefully that will also lift my level,” he adds.
De Cuyper knows he will probably start on the bench at the Euros. “The step between the hopefuls and the first team is a significant one, even if there is a lot of quality among the hopefuls,” he acknowledges.
But Club Brugge fans know that, if he gets the chance, the defender will be ready.
Asked if Tedesco had given him any special advice, De Cuyper replies: “He said ‘Come with a smile and positive vibes’. That suits me because that's how I always am.”
All Belgium’s opponents could spring a surprise and Tedesco is determined to avoid any repeat of the complacency that saw the Red Devils exit early from the 2022 World Cup.
Ukraine pose the greatest threat. Serhiy Rebrov's team, who played all their home qualifying games in other countries due to the war with Russia, will have the support of plenty of neutrals.
Keeper Andriy Lunin was a more than capable deputy during the prolonged absence of Thibaut Courtois at Real Madrid. Ukraine’s 34-year-old captain Andriy Yarmolenko (Dynamo Kyiv) is back after injuries, while pacey Mykhailo Mudryk (Chelsea) and Oleksandr Zinchenko (Arsenal) provide Premier League quality in midfield. Westerlo’s Serhiy Sydorchuk, 33, will lock horns with familiar opponents.
Artem Dovbyk is Ukraine’s danger man up front: he’s just ended his first season with Girona as La Liga’s top scorer, netting 24 goals, the first non-Barcelona or Real Madrid player to win the Pichichi trophy in 15 years.
Romania, under coach Edward Iordănescu, topped their group in the qualifiers – five points ahead of Switzerland.
Their best-known player is 22-year-old centre-back Radu Drăgu ș in, but he has found game time hard since his €25 million move to Tottenham Hotspur in January.
Captain is former Anderlecht midfielder Nicolae Stanciu, now at Damac in the Saudi league. George Pu ș ca ș (Bari on loan from Genoa) is the main threat in attack.
Belgium’s first Group E tie is against Slovakia, coached by wily Italian Francesco Calzona.
Slovakia’s biggest name is 29-year-old PSG centre-back Milan Š kriniar, long-time keeper is Martin Dúbravka, 35, who
enjoyed a strong season with Newcastle, while Genk’s Patrik Hro š ovský will anchor midfield.
Former Feyenoord striker Róbert Bo ž eník, now at Portugal’s Boavista will pair with the prolific Róbert Polievka (Dukla Banská Bystrica) to spearhead the attack.
Group E matches
Monday, June 17 (18:00): Belgium v Slovakia (Waldstadion, Frankfurt) Saturday, June 22 (21:00) : Belgium v Romania (FC Köln, Köln) Wednesday, June 26 (18:00): Belgium v Ukraine (Stuttgart Arena, Stuttgart)
Groups and schedule
The tournament runs from June 14 to July 14. The group stage runs until June 26, the knockout stage starts on June 29, and Berlin’s Olympiastadion will stage the final on Sunday, July 14.
The qualified 24 teams are drawn into six groups of four nations. The group winners and runners-up advance to the knockout rounds, along with the four best third-placed teams.
Group A: Germany, Scotland, Hungary, Switzerland
Group B: Spain, Croatia, Italy, Albania
Group C: Slovenia, Denmark, Serbia, England
Group D: Poland, Netherlands, Austria, France
Group E: Belgium, Slovakia, Romania, Ukraine
Group F: Turkey, Georgia, Portugal, Czechia
Preparing for 21st century life beyond the classroom - a look inside future-forward, context-based bilingual education at The Courtyard International School of Tervuren.
The Courtyard is well-known as a pioneering institution, quick to understand emerging needs and flexible enough to implement them swiftly and effectively. It can list a string of firsts, being the first school in Belgium authorised to run all four International Baccalaureate (IB) programmes, the first to offer the IB continuum with 3 language sections, the first to take inclusion seriously enough to offer a new special needs centre operating in 3 languages, the first to convert historic buildings in protected Tervuren green sites into eco-schools and the first flagship school to receive the Green Flag award twice.
balanced bilingualism in the region. “Several schools offered bilingualism, but one of the languages often held a higher status in the school community than the other, affecting the students’ motivation for that language.” Impressed by The European Schools’ balanced bilingual model she set to work to establish a new school with three language streams in Tervuren that would allow for balanced bilingual education with a sharp focus on sustainability.
The Courtyard is well-known as a pioneering institution, quick to understand emerging needs and flexible enough to implement them swiftly and effectively.
Established in 2018 by founder, Sue Kay, in the carefully converted College of Luxembourg’s courtyard buildings of Hof te Oudevoorde in Tervuren, expanding to the nearby Robiano-Stolberg Castle complex and adding an experimental eco-site on the Duisburg Plateau hosting the students’ Eden Project, this school is one of a new group of intentionally small 21st century international schools, that allow all the benefits of a large international school, whilst providing the flexibility and personalisation that being a smaller school facilitates. The Courtyard delivers high-quality values-based academic education in English, French or Dutch for pupils from 2-18 years.
With a long career in international and bilingual education management behind her, Kay often noticed the number of students who had studied an English-only education in Belgium’s international schools and couldn’t find work here because of their lack of local language skills. There was a lack of schools delivering
Why choose the IB? Seven years on, Kay states that, “Whilst preparing pupils for academic success the school focuses on preparing them for the challenges and opportunities beyond the classroom and, to this end, the faculty chose to offer the full suite of International Baccalaureate programmes to give continuity and coherence to the whole school programme. This includes the Pre-school and Primary Years Programme (PYP), the Middle Years Programme (MYP), the Diploma Programme (DP) and the Career-Related Programme (CP) which offer a consistent, holistic, all-through inquiry-based approach which can be offered in any of our school languages."
"We were delighted to be authorised to offer all four IB programmes," states Sue Kay. "This aligns with our vision and commitments and provides our students the opportunity to continue to work and study in a cohesive way throughout school. It also opens access to work and study across Belgium and the rest of the world as it provides skills needed to collaborate and work worldwide."
The Courtyard's middle school programme provides students with the opportunity to sit either the IB Middle Years or the International General Certificate of Secondary Education (IGCSE) qualifications aged 16. Leading on from this the IB Diploma and Career programmes were launched
in September 2023 for students aged 16-18, building upon the strong foundations laid in the primary and middle school sections. Growing with its students the move meets their evolving needs as they transition into higher levels of education and prepare for university or work.
Central to The Courtyard's ethos is its commitment to personalised pastoral care for each child. Extending this philosophy from primary to the secondary years, the school employs a tutor and a house system. Each student receives individualised guidance and mentorship from dedicated teachers, ensuring that all can access the support they need to excel academically and personally. The majority of this year’s diploma cohort have eyes set on studying medicine at university.
The Courtyard announced the opening of two new heritage buildings for the summer of 2024 and 2025 which promise to enhance the educational environment with state-of-the-art classrooms, science and technology labs, informal study areas, and an extra library for older students.
Inspired by Kurt Hahn, all elements of The Courtyard experience from the IB, to the Round Square network and the International Duke of Edinburgh’s Award, place values-based education at the heart of the school experience, guid-
ing students through their school years with a focus on independence, sustainability, democracy, environmental stewardship, adventure, bilingualism and leadership.
Overnight residential trips beginning as early as Year 2 serve as catalysts for these values, where students tackle challenges with their “head, hands and heart” and conquer new horizons each year. Themed residential trips (such as an upcoming 3 days STEM focused visit for Primary Year 2 and 3 to the Eurospace Centre) serve to ignite intellectual curiosity, bridging the gap between classroom theory and real-world application. From Preschool to the IB Diploma, extensive team-building schemes help students learn to collaborate and consolidate their previous knowledge by putting it to practical use. Building, planting, cooking, camping, skiing, sailing DIY rafts, rock-climbing, and caring for animals are all high on the agenda.
"Our main objective is to enhance student involvement in shaping sustainable practices,” states Stephanie Uceny, Deputy Director. “Projects are guided by students and supported by the broader community. We cultivate an environment where students gain the knowledge, skills and motivation to confidently tackle global environmental challenges that are at the forefront of their minds.”
With a rich legacy of fostering values-based, sustainability-focused education over the past years, the school is looking forward to the coming years. “Our dynamic faculty have a tremendous amount of experience and energy. They are equipping our students with the tools and skills they will need to lead successful, purposeful and fulfilled lives in the dynamic, ever-changing world of the future. It’s a new era for international schools; it’s the era of intentionally small international schools that can truly deliver on sustainability, rooted locally and growing globally.
The Courtyard International School of Tervuren
Hof te Oudevoorde, 49a, Stationsstraat - 3080 Tervuren Tel +32.484.49.11.41
www.thecourtyard.eu
Each student receives individualised guidance and mentorship from dedicated teachers, ensuring that all can access the support they need to excel academically and personally.
Nine years ago, Kraainem Football Club began reaching out to young unaccompanied refugees. Jon Eldridge discovers how the beautiful game is helping these kids take their first steps in the country
Football can be a door that we open together to facilitate their integration.They recover their dignity, which may have been lost during the journey from their home country. When they arrive here, they smile again, even if they only come four times.
The threat of drizzle fails to dampen the mood at Royale Europa Kraainem Football Club on the first Saturday in June. The club is hosting its seventh annual football tournament, Freedom and Football, which invites boys and girls from neighbouring refugee and Red Cross centres to form teams and take part. Indeed, as the matches kick off on the club’s all-weather pitch, smiling faces abound. It’s perhaps no surprise. The club is offering young people, often unaccompanied minors, an opportunity they might not otherwise have had.
The tournament forms part of a wider initiative of the club – We welcome young refugees –the brainchild of club chairman Laurent Thieule. However, he credits his wife with having played a key role in the story when she suggested they host a refugee family at the beginning of the Syrian crisis. His reply: “I have a better idea; we will welcome a thousand refugees to the club!”
True to his word, he estimates that since the launch of the project in September 2015 the club has welcomed 4,000 refugees. The concept has changed little during this time: up to around a dozen kids aged under 18 are taken to the club every night from different local Fedasil centres –
which are the initial point of contact for refugees seeking asylum – and Red Cross centres. They gather at 5pm, and for an hour, they sit around a table to take part in a conversation (in English, French and Dutch) overseen by volunteers who encourage them to learn about the local culture and to discuss topical issues. Football training follows, and they return to their centres around 8pm after enjoying a meal at the clubhouse.
Initially, Thieule would pick up the boys himself in his car and the club would provide boots and kit out of its own spare stock. However, he was soon able to attract financial support for the project, including funds from a range of EU programmes.
Thieule retired from the Committee of the Regions three years ago, and no doubt, his knowledge of the EU institutions was useful. Other sources of funding include the UEFA Foundation for Children and the Royal Belgian Football Association, along with corporate sponsors, and the initiative can now adequately provide kit to players and sustain a small team of employees, including an official driver, who fetches the kids in a van and then ferries them back.
Although for most of the kids, their experi-
ence of Kraainem FC will be short-lived, since they are typically transferred to other centres elsewhere in Belgium after four weeks, Thieule is enthusiastic about its impact. “Football can be a door that we open together to facilitate their integration,” he says. “They recover their dignity, which may have been lost during the journey from their home country. When they arrive here, they smile again, even if they only come four times.”
He is also very pleased that the club is now welcoming young girls from countries such as Algeria, Syria and Tunisia, although around 80% of the refugees that come are still male. The club has also established contacts with the refugee centre Ukrainian Voices, and this year has been regularly welcoming young kids aged nine to 14 from the country one evening a week.
At the Freedom and Football tournament, among the 200 refugees taking part, the Ukrainian team’s yellow shirts and blue shorts match Kraainem’s team colours. The team, which is a little older than the usual age group, thumps four goals past its opponents, as I chat with its coach Serhii through the magic of an online speech translator (which amusingly picks up a few on-field Ukrainian expletives). After the match, these slightly older lads say that schoolwork now takes precedence over regular football, although they appreciate the connection with the club.
I also meet the project’s manager, Valentine Lenoir-Bufflier, who is kitted out in a Belgium strip (despite being from France) and ready to join her team for the day. She works part-time on the project (19 hours a week), maintaining contact with the centres and networking. The concept has been replicated around Belgium and abroad, and now around 40 clubs welcome refugees to some degree.
Her team also now includes a dedicated coach because “some of the kids that come have never touched a ball and cannot be immediately integrated into a Kraainem team.” She also says she explores possibilities with the centres for arranging visits to the parliament or attending a match. “Social inclusion is really important. I think some feel that they are integrating into Belgium.”
Being able to provide the kids with the team’s shirts also helps them feel included. “They are not just refugees; they are players for Kraainem!”
One such graduate of the project, 19-year-old Melvin from Sierra Leone, harbours dreams of making it as a professional and now plays for Olympic Anderlecht. He tells me he’s happy to be back in his former club’s colours and doesn’t seem too disappointed that his team have just failed to win its match. Another returnee, Aime from Burundi, simply says he’s grateful to the club for teaching him how to play
‘European-style’ football and says that the project’s conversation sessions provided him with much-needed direction, both in terms of the beautiful game and life in general.
Finally, I introduce myself to Nina from the Red Cross. She is captaining a team of girls, who have arrived in Belgium unaccompanied, several of whom are playing in headscarves. She emphasises the financial and administrative barriers that would normally prevent these kids from being able to play with clubs such as Kraainem, but she also suggests that existing members benefit from the initiative as much as the new recruits. “The Belgian players, especially the young kids, who go to school and maybe stay in privileged circles, don’t really know much about refugees, how they appear and what languages they speak, and this initiative gives them the chance to learn more.”
Indeed, I ask club chairman Laurent about how local club members are responding to the project. He stresses that it was important to explain what they were doing and why, and to reassure members that they would not be asked to contribute to the funding of the project. He has sought to develop the club’s diversity under his leadership for the past 18 years, and a few months ago, the club sent a questionnaire to parents of young players to canvass their views. The responses, he beams, confirmed that the parents are “proud that their kids are playing at a club that welcomes refugees.”
Nina from the Red Cross is captaining a team of girls, who have arrived in Belgium unaccompanied, several of whom are playing in headscarves.
Top and above: Refugee players are welcomed
Finance Minister Vincent Van Peteghem wants to spend more on defence and welfare while also cutting Belgium’s debt. Dennis Abbott asks him where he finds the numbers to tax and spend
We are the world champion for taxes on labour, so we looked at how to reduce the burden on employers, while at the same time making the tax system more simple, just and fair for individuals.
As befitting a numbers man, Belgium’s Finance Minister Vincent Van Peteghem is clear, precise, and, yes, measured. Mostly.
We’re sitting in his swanky, second-floor offices at 11 Rue des Colonies (Koloniënstraat), near the swish new BNP Paribas Fortis headquarters and less glamorous surroundings of Gare Centrale (his other office in town is next door to the Prime Minister’s official Lambermont residence in Rue de la Loi).
Van Peteghem’s spokesperson joins us in a spotless meeting room, Zaal Warande, handing him a lengthy briefing entitled ‘Brussels Times interview’.
He flicks through the top corner of each page with his thumb and forefinger as if he’s counting bank notes, but then barely glances at the meticulously prepared file. As a former spokes, I feel a pang of empathy.
Van Peteghem, two metres tall, lean, bespectacled and smartly dressed in a crisp white shirt, cuts an imposing figure. He has arrived a little late for our meeting, but, apol-
ogising, manages to cover a lot of ground in the next 40 minutes.
We start by discussing what the 43-yearold former business school professor sees as his main achievements – and biggest disappointment – since taking up the reins as Finance Minister and Deputy Prime Minister in October 2020, representing the centrist Christian Democratic and Flemish party (Christen-Democratisch en Vlaams, CD&V).
“What was important and what we focused on a lot was bringing tax, fiscal and finance issues back to the people,” he says. “In the past, ministers always used to avoid saying much about tax and everything around it. I think we needed to make these policies as concrete as possible and several of our measures had a huge impact.”
He immediately lists three examples, starting with the “Van Peteghem bond”. Launched last September, thanks to a reduced withholding tax it provided an attractive 2.8% net interest rate compared with the stingy amounts then on offer from Belgium’s high-street banks. It was a massive hit with the public.
“We raised €22 billion. The last time that there was such a successful launch was in 2011 when €5.9 billion was raised, so it was quite an achievement. People were looking for better returns on their savings and what is definitely clear is that the banks then understood that they had to fight for their customers. It was good for the country.”
The second initiative Van Peteghem highlights is what he terms the “most green measure taken by governments in the last 10 years” – the greening of company cars so beloved by Belgians.
“We said in 2021 that we would only give tax advantages for company cars that were CO2 neutral by 2026. It gave a clear signal to the markets, to the constructors and the leasing companies. And today, you can clearly see that we were able to make the shift towards electric cars.”
The third success he flags is the so-called ‘pillar two’ measures to force multinationals to pay a minimum 15% tax on their profits.
“We were able to create a level playing field with smaller firms who had the feeling that, while they paid their taxes, the multinationals were free riders. We’ve been able to implement these measures at OECD [Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development], European and national level.”
And his biggest disappointment?
Van Peteghem cannot conceal the frustration he still feels after his bold tax reform blueprint – dubbed “visionary” by the Flem-
ish media – was torpedoed by rival parties in the governing coalition.
“We are the world champion for taxes on labour, so we looked at how to reduce the burden on employers, while at the same time making the tax system more simple, just and fair for individuals.”
Whether people are single, married or cohabitating should not influence how much they pay, unless they have children or dependents, he explains.
It sounds reasonable, so why was the policy axed?
“It was indeed very reasonable,” he declares. “The problem was that people around the table looked too much to lobby groups behind them. If you do politics, you should do it for everybody. Some parties forgot that during the negotiations. I had the feeling that they lacked leadership and a little bit of courage to make a huge step forward.”
Who does he blame most?
After a moment of hesitation, he points to Mouvement Réformateur (MR), the French-speaking liberals led by George Louis Bouchez. “Everybody had concerns or remarks but the liberals were the most difficult,” he concedes. “During the election campaign we’ve seen all the parties saying we need a huge tax reform. If we’d decided this a couple of months ago, people would already have more net income compared with now.”
Since he has raised the subject of the general election, I ask if he fears victory for Vlaams Belang will harm Belgium’s image abroad. At the time of writing, polls were predicting that the far-right party was on course to claim the largest number of seats in the Chamber of Representatives, ahead of the conservative, nationalist New Flemish Alliance (NieuwVlaamse Alliantie, N-VA) and Parti Socialiste.
“I'm quite sure that Vlaams Belang will damage our reputation and I'm not happy about that,” he says.
Van Peteghem draws a parallel with the Netherlands where the far-right Freedom Party (Partij voor de Vrijheid) led by Geert Wilders finished first last November.
“The impact isn’t immediate. But when I talk with colleagues at the G20 [the Group of 20, a forum for major economies] or Ecofin [the EU’s Economic and Finance Ministers], you hear that it’s definitely having an influence on the position of the Netherlands in multilateral organisations.”
Politicians in Belgium need to confront why the far-right is becoming more popular, he says.
“We need to listen to what people are saying, what they are worried about and what’s keeping them awake at night. These are not illogical issues. It's about their money. Will I
still have enough at the end of the month? Is my neighbourhood safe? If I get sick, will I get appropriate care? These are the things that people are thinking about and they need to feel that we have respect for their concerns.”
Some voices in the N-VA suggest the party should cooperate with Vlaams Belang. Could Van Peteghem see that happening with the CD&V?
“No.” He doesn’t elaborate. Time to change the subject.
Belgium’s paltry spending on defence has unsurprisingly created more than a degree of frustration at NATO HQ – and with a certain US Presidential candidate – especially given the volatile, all-too-threatening environment on the EU’s borders. The alliance expects its members to earmark at least 2% of national GDP on defence. Last year, it estimated Belgium would spend only 1.13% in 2023, the second lowest among its members (Luxembourg pays just 0.72%).
Why does Belgium contribute so little?
Van Peteghem for once looks uncomfortable.
“We are looking to the future and we have agreed with NATO that we need to accelerate the work that has to be done. But, for me, the main important discussion is how to better organise our European defence. We have different weapons in every army in different countries. We need to streamline that, to coordinate more and better. Defence should be a focus for the next European Commission.”
Van Peteghem is the current chair of the board of governors of the European Investment Bank and is pressing its President, Nadia Calviño, to prioritise defence and security – but admits that the EIB already has its work cut out supporting the green transition, digital growth and competitiveness.
The budget and debt is always an indication of how your welfare state is organised,” he continues. “In Belgium, we have a very good social security system. If you study, you don't have to pay for that for the rest of your life. If you get sick, there are accessible and nearby hospitals and healthcare.
We need to reform our healthcare system and rethink our tax system. We need to rethink our pension and labour market system. That's the focus we need to have in the next government.
“The challenges are big but if we're not able to be more efficient at European level, even if we spend three or four percent of GDP on defence, it will not be enough.”
Van Peteghem is keen to put the onus on the EU, but Belgium must surely shoulder some share of responsibility, I suggest.
The country’s level of debt is colossal. The EU’s budget rules state that the maximum debt ratio in member states may not exceed 60%, but the European Commission forecasts that Belgium’s public debt rises will be 105.0% of GDP this year rising to 106.6% of GDP in 2025 (with its budget deficit rising to 4.4% by of this year and 4.7% by the end of 2025).
Asked why, Van Peteghem gives a matterof-fact response. “You will have a high debt ratio so long as you're not able to balance your revenues and expenses,” he says.
“The budget and debt is always an indication of how your welfare state is organised,” he continues. “In Belgium, we have a very good social security system. If you study, you don't have to pay for that for the rest of your life. If you get sick, there are accessible and
nearby hospitals and healthcare.
“But our budget for pensions and healthcare will increase by 25% in the next five years due to the ageing of our population. That’s why I’m much in favour of the European economic governance framework, the ‘Ghent guidelines’ as we call them, recently approved by the European Parliament.”
The new rules, brokered by Van Peteghem in February, give countries such as Belgium more time to trim their deficits, while also exempting any contributions they make to EU projects from their national accounts. A win-win for all, apparently. It sounds like a fudge, as always.
If figures aren’t your thing, look away now.
Under the deal, Belgium commits to reducing its current deficit of 4.4% of gross domestic product to 3% over the next seven years. In cash terms, this means reducing its €26 billion deficit by around €3.4 billion per year through cuts and savings.
“This gives us the opportunity to make reforms necessary to bring the budget and deficit under control,” Van Peteghem says. “To maintain our welfare state, we need to reform our healthcare system and rethink our tax system. We need to rethink our pension and labour market system. That's the focus we need to have in the next government. Not just to cut social security, but to defend and build upon the [welfare] system that we are well known for all around the world.”
He certainly has the patter off to a tee, leaving me nearly, but not completely, spellbound.
So how come the Nordic states also offer generous welfare provisions without piling up enormous debts?
“One of the main differences is that their tax and labour markets are organised much better. Their employment levels are much higher too.” The target is to get 80% of Belgium’s working age population in a job.
“We're almost there in Flanders, but in Wallonia or in Brussels the level is much lower. If we were able to reach an 80% employment level in the whole country that would have a positive impact on our revenues and expenses because less people would be getting unemployment benefit.”
We briefly touch on two of Van Peteghem’s other main areas of responsibility: the fight against fraud and drug traffickers.
He sees better collaboration between government departments and agencies as crucial in both fields.
While acknowledging that, by its nature, it is “very difficult” to assess how big a problem
fraud is in Belgium, he says his coalition partners backed a “very ambitious” approach.
He outlines three action plans, focused on collaboration between different services at the federal level, more coherent policy and better compliance. His services also looked at improving collaboration between the justice department, the administration and the police. “In the past, when an administrative investigation was complete it would be passed to justice who would then re-open the whole investigation. There was a kind of Chinese wall between the departments and now we have opened that a little bit. Of course, everything still has to be done correctly, in line with the law. We’ve also tightened legislation,” he says.
While Van Peteghem is unable to put a figure on how much extra tax these changes will bring in, he insists that they have resulted in closing loopholes and making it that much harder for people to evade their liabilities.
Last year Belgian customs seized a record 116 tonnes of cocaine in the port of Antwerp, as well as five tonnes in Zeebrugge, which suggests that the improvements spearheaded by Van Peteghem are bearing fruit. Again, a more efficient, joined-up approach between the police, customs and courts is at the heart of his action plan. He highlights his “very good cooperation” with Aukje De Vries, the Dutch State Secretary for Finance, and source countries in South America such as Colombia, Ecuador and Panama.
“It's only by making each piece in the chain as strong as possible that we can have a huge impact in the fight against drug traffickers. We have invested a lot in extra scanners to check containers entering Antwerp port that are seen as high-risk because they’re coming from South America or we’ve had problems with the companies involved in the past.”
The scanners are very effective, he says, spotting even small quantities of packages hidden in containers. “Will we ever win the war on drugs? That will also depend on the people who use drugs. If there is demand, there will always be supply. People who use drugs need to take into account that they have blood on their hands, as well as up their noses.”
Vincent Van Peteghem is not short of ‘hats’.
As Finance Minister and Deputy Prime Minister, his responsibilities include hosting meetings with his member state counterparts during Belgium’s six-month presidency of the EU and chairing the European Investment Bank’s board of governors. First elected to the Chamber of Representatives in 2014, he
later became Mayor of De Pinte in East Flanders. He is also husband to Evelyn De Blieck and father to three daughters under the age of ten, Josephine, Florine and Olivia.
That’s a lot of roles to juggle. How does he do it?
“For my children, it’s about finding the time and, if you're available, making sure that they have a good, qualitative time with you. Of course, having a good wife helps too,” he says, banking a few brownie points. “It's not so extraordinary, though. A lot of young families struggle today. In our case, it's maybe a little bit more, a little bigger.”
As for his professional roles?
“I know what my vision is and where we're heading to. I only put things on the table that I completely believe in. And that really helps me defend everything I’m doing in the government.
“Minister of Finance is a huge job. When you start, you're not always aware of that. There are always big decisions to make. Then you go up to Europe and discussions on the Capital Markets Union or the digital euro. At the local level it could be about where the bank ATM [cash machine] has gone.
“It's a huge package of responsibilities but I have a fantastic group that supports me and an administration that helps a lot. That’s the only way you can manage.”
He actually has three teams of personal staff: the Finance Minister’s cabinet in Rue de la Roi, the office of Deputy Prime Minister in the unfortunately named Rue des Colonies, and support in his home base of De Pinte.
So is Van Peteghem ever tempted to quit politics and return to his old job as a professor at EDHEC (École des Hautes Etudes Commerciales du Nord) Business School in Lille?
He laughs.
“I was always interested and active in politics at the local and later national level,” he says. “Now I have the opportunity to make an impact. I didn’t have any doubts about standing as a candidate. If you’ve been in an academic career you also need to teach. As a politician, I still like to explain everything I do!”
It's only by making each piece in the chain as strong as possible that we can have a huge impact in the fight against drug traffickers.
Brussels boasts a rich linguistic diversity, with hundreds of languages spoken on the street. But as French and Dutch, the city’s two official languages, are spoken less and less across the city, Philippe Van Parijs makes the case for English as an official language of Brussels
Take the Brussels metro. Listen to the conversations. However hard you try and however polyglot you are, many of them will be unintelligible. Is this not supposed to be a bilingual French-Dutch city? Yes, officially. And until about 50 years ago, this was largely the case.
But no longer.
How many languages are spoken by Brussels residents today? No one can tell. Belgium’s latest linguistic census was held in 1947. It was scrapped due to Flemish fears that the Francophone “oil stain” would spread from Brussels into Flanders. As soon as the census results revealed that at least 30% of the residents of a municipality spoke French at home, the latter became officially bilingual and was expected, as had been the case in Brussels itself, to undergo an inexorable Fenchification process.
Yet, we can get a good idea of Brussels’ current linguistic diversity.
Since 2000, the Vrije Universiteit Brussel (VUB) has been publishing a Taalbarometer every six years, based on a representative sample of the Brussels population. The fifth one has just been published: 104 different languages were mentioned by the 1,627 respondents as languages they could speak correctly — compared to 72 in the 2000 Taalbarometer. But there are of course many more languages that did not find their way into this small sample.
For example, of India’s 22 official languages, six were mentioned by at least one respondent (Bengali, Hindi, Marathi, Punjabi, Tamil, Urdu), but many of India’s 700 other languages are bound to be present among the 960,000 adult Brusselers (or Brusseleirs or Brusseleers) not included in the sample. If you are ever asked how many languages Brusselers speak, “several hundred” will be a far better answer than “104”.
This increasing diversity is unavoidably associated with a steady decline of the proportion of Brusselers brought up in Dutch — the language in which Brussels was born 1,000 years ago — or in French — the language in which it started becoming a capital 500 years ago. Between 2000 and 2024, the percentage of 'pure Francophones', i.e. those with French as their sole native language, fell from 51.8% to
41.3%, whereas those with only Dutch as their native language dropped from 9.3% to 7.5%.
French and Dutch, however, are sometimes combined with one another as home languages, and often with other languages. If these combinations are taken into account, the percentage of French native speakers fell from 71% to 63.6% between 2000 and 2024, and that of Dutch native speakers from 19.3% to 11.8%. Over the same period, the percentage of native speakers of Arabic, Brussels’ third native language, grew from slightly below 10% to slightly above 11%. Arabic, mostly in the Darija version spoken in Morocco, is on its way to overtaking Dutch as Brussels’ second native language.
Fortunately for mutual understanding, the languages Brusselers know are not only those inherited from their parents. When adding to native speakers, respondents who learned French and Dutch later in life, we reach significantly higher percentages – but these are in even sharper decline. Between 2000 and 2024, the percentage of Brusselers who say they can speak French well — that is, more than get by (se débrouiller) — dropped from 95.5% to 81.0%, while the percentage of those who say they can speak Dutch correctly dropped from 33.3% to 22.3%.
As a corollary, the percentage of respondents who said they could speak well neither French nor Dutch rose spectacularly from 4.0 to 15.4%. Given that Brussels’ total population has grown by close to 30% since 2000, the number of Brussels adult residents unable to speak either of Brussels’ two official languages can be estimated to have risen from about 30,000 to about 150,000.
This spectacular rise is not only due to the growth of the Brussels population — now about 1.25 million. It is due above all to its being exceedingly fluid. Between 2000 and 2024, nearly 1.5 million people settled in Brussels, most of them arriving from abroad, while nearly 1.4 million left Brussels, most of them to settle in Flanders or Wallonia. That a huge proportion of Brussels’ residents — in addition to countless
The
percentage of French native speakers fell from 71% to 63.6% between 2000 and 2024, and that of Dutch native speakers from 19.3% to 11.8%.
English already enjoys a semi-official status. For example, there are plenty of websites or web pages published in English by municipalities and regional institutions. STIB-MIVB, the Brussels public transport company, has been communicating systematically in English for many years.
short-term visitors — should be unable to communicate in either French or Dutch can safely be expected to be a permanent feature of the Brussels linguistic landscape.
This is a major problem for the linguistic legislation currently in force. Belgium’s 1966 “coordinated laws on language use in administrative matters” were motivated by two concerns: giving the Dutch-speaking minority the same right to be served in its language as the French-speaking majority and signalling to newcomers that they should urgently learn at least one of the two local languages. This meant that all public services, from social assistance to public hospitals and public transport had to be provided in French and Dutch, and that only French and Dutch could be used.
Such rules might have made sense in the early 1960s, when the presence of European institutions was hardly noticeable and most of the Brussels population were French and Dutch-speaking Belgians, while immigrants were in the process of being assimilated. They are fundamentally inadequate in today’s radically altered context.
Would it help to add English to French and Dutch as a third official language? English is the native language of only a tiny proportion of the population. Yet, the 2000 Taalbarometer showed that it was close to overtaking Dutch in terms of how many respondents regarded themselves as speaking it well. Whereas competence in both French and Dutch has kept shrinking since then, competence in English rose to 34.4% by 2017. Seven years later, the latest Taalbarometer puts it at 46.7%.
Shouldn’t Brexit have led to a decline in English? Not at all. The regular use of English in Brussels has very little to do with a British presence. It stems from the fast spreading of competence in English among younger generations of non-Anglophones, both in Belgium and abroad. The new special Eurobarome-
ter on ‘Europeans and their languages’, also published in May, confirms this trend: the percentage of EU residents aged 15-24 who say they can have a conversation in English rose from 61% to 70% between 2012 and 2024.
The increasing use of English in Brussels has led to some surprising new practices. For example, when Dutch-speaking Taalbarometer respondents are asked how they react when a public employee addresses them in French, 3.5% of them reply that they switch to English. And no less than 13% of French-speaking respondents reply that they also do so when a public employee addresses them in Dutch.
Hence an suggestion. Shouldn’t English, as Brussels’ second language, be given official status, along with French and Dutch?
This would not be in a way that would require, for example, all Brussels streets to be given a third name. Rather in the more modest sense of being used by public authorities in contact with the public and official communications.
In this latter context, English already enjoys a semi-official status. For example, there are plenty of websites or web pages published in English by municipalities and regional institutions. STIB-MIVB, the Brussels public transport company, has been communicating systematically in English for many years. More than 1,600 Brussels police officers are getting a salary bonus because they passed an English test. And English names, such as Brucity, Good Move, visit.brussels, are frequently adopted to refer to institutions or initiatives. Strictly speaking, all this breaches the 1966 legislation, but is openly tolerated.
Legalising and upscaling the provision of public services in English would be a useful step forward. But it would only deal with one-third of the problem. According to the Taalbarometer, the percentage of adult Brusselers who speak well neither French, Dutch, nor English rose from 3% to 10.5% between 2000 and 2024.
This means that adding English would only shrink the number of adult Brussels residents unable to access public services in a language they speak well from about 150,000 to 100,000.
A more radical reform is therefore needed. The “right to be served in one’s native language” invoked by Dutch native speakers in the 1960s, is out of reach, and irreversibly so. But we can get closer to it by efficiently and openly using the existing linguistic know how of public employees. This too is already happening. Thus, Taalbarometer respondents mention no less than 33 languages other than French and Dutch that they have used with staff in Brussels hospitals. When Covid struck, several communes used several languages to disseminate public health instructions. Strictly speaking, again, illegally.
Even in combination with advanced translation technologies, legalising and generalising such practices could never render all public information and services available in the hundreds of Brussels languages. However, it would significantly reduce misunderstandings, delays, and failures to access important information and services for a large proportion of the linguistically hyper-diverse population.
Providing multilingual public services should not stop us from trying to make Brussels citizens more multilingual. Competence in French, Dutch and English matters for smooth access to public services. It is also a major asset in the job market in Brussels and its periphery, a condition for full political participation in Belgium’s and Europe’s capital, and it contributes to social cohesion.
This trilingualism is an objective for both French-medium Brussels schools, which cater for about 80% of Brussels’ pupils (abstracting from those attending European and international schools) and Dutch-medium schools, which cater for the remaining 20%.
The Taalbarometer gives an idea of the extent to which this is achieved. With 83% and 69% of their graduates aged 18-30 claiming to be able to speak well French and English, respectively, Dutch-medium schools are not doing badly. By contrast, French-medium schools are struggling. While their score for English rose from 37% to 45.5% between 2000 and 2024, their score for Dutch fell dramatically from 20% to 6.5%, despite efforts to promote so-called immersion teaching, i.e. having part of the curriculum taught in Dutch.
Strengthening competence in Brussels’ three ‘link languages’ among residents of all ages can legitimately be given priority. But it must go hand-in-hand with the promotion of the use of all native languages present in Brussels. A solid knowledge of the native language, whatever it is, far from being a hindrance, creates the best foundation for learning the
school language and for any subsequent cognitive development.
Parents must be encouraged to read and sing with their children in those languages. Creches and schools must make children proud of being able to speak them and encourage them to learn them well. More intensive use must be made of the thousands of books in many languages in Brussels' public libraries and of the testing and learning options provided free of charge for over 20 languages to all Brussels residents by the online platform Brulingua.
Of course, native language competence is not only an asset for learning the school language. It is also an asset in itself as it helps people maintain strong bonds with those who share the same language, nearby and far away, and with the regions of the world where it is spoken. Moreover, publicly showing respect and appreciation for these languages and the associated identities can make everyone in Brussels, whatever their origin, feel part of the Brussels community.
“Brussels is the city with the highest concentration of people speaking different languages and a population that has learned to respect, learn and spread bilingualism as a common practice.” So said a report published in 2001 by the European Commission under the title ‘Brussels, Capital of Europe’, which recommended the creation of an Institute for Multilingualism. Brussels does not have such an institute and perhaps does not need one. What it has had, since 2019, is a minister for the promotion of multilingualism, and, since 2020, a Brussels Council for Multilingualism.
In its memorandum for the 2024 elections, the Council makes several recommendations. One of them is the launch of an annual, largely bottom-up Brussels Multilingualism Week. This would provide an opportunity to celebrate Brussels’ exceptional linguistic diversity, but also to emphasise that linguistic diversity without generalised multilingualism is a calamity. It must therefore mobilise experts and role models, businesses and administrations, schools and libraries, welfare offices and hospitals to show how important it is, in Brussels even more than elsewhere, to learn languages — and how easy and cheap it can be if one knows how best to do so and where one can find help.
Every day in every Brusseler’s life can and should be used to improve one of their languages and to help others to improve theirs. If Brussels is not to become a Babel incapacitated by its linguistic diversity, it must be more than ever an enthusiastic, bubbling, sparkling hotbed for multilingualism.
Competence in French, Dutch and English matters for smooth access to public services. It is also a major asset in the job market in Brussels and its periphery, a condition for full political participation in Belgium’s and Europe’s capital, and it contributes to social cohesion.
Learning the languages spoken in Brussels isn't just about mastering grammar and vocabulary; it's about forging meaningful connections with the local community.
Nestled at the crossroads of European cultures, Brussels stands as a vibrant mosaic of linguistic diversity. For expatriates settling in this cosmopolitan hub, embracing the local languages, be it French or Dutch, opens a gateway to boundless opportunities and enriching experiences.
In a city where every street corner echoes with a symphony of languages, mastering the local tongues isn't just a skill - it's a necessity for thriving in Brussels. As the de facto capital of the European Union, multilingualism isn't just encouraged; it's essential for navigating both professional and social spheres.
In this bustling metropolis, the benefits of language proficiency extend far beyond mere communication - they are integral to cultural integration, professional advancement, and an enhanced quality of life.
Learning the languages spoken in Brussels isn't just about mastering grammar and vocabulary; it's about forging meaningful connections with the local community. Whether it's striking up a conversation with a neighbour at the market or immersing oneself in the rich tapestry of Belgian culture, language proficiency serves as a bridge that transcends linguistic barriers and fosters genuine understanding and camaraderie.
In Brussels, fluency in multiple languages isn't just a résumé booster; it's a prerequisite for success in many professional fields. From multinational corporations to the EU insti-
tutions, proficiency in French, Dutch, and English opens doors to a myriad of career opportunities, propelling ambitious expatriates to new heights of success and achievement.
Mastering the local languages won’t only help one navigate the intricacies of daily life - it’s also the key to embracing the vibrant tapestry of Brussels's cultural landscape. Whether it's ordering a café au lait at a quaint corner café or deciphering the nuances of Belgian humour, language proficiency enriches every aspect of expatriate life, transforming mundane tasks into meaningful experiences.
There are several techniques individuals can put into practice to expedite their language acquisition. Immersive experiences, such as participating in language exchange programmes or attending cultural events, allow learners to practice their skills in real-life contexts. New technologies, such as language learning apps and online resources, can also help, as they provide tools for reinforcing language skills. Consistent practice and setting achievable goals are also essential components of language learning success.
But mastering a new language isn't easy - it requires dedication, perseverance, and the right resources. Fortunately, for expatriates seeking to accelerate their language learning journey, help is at hand!
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Whether it's ordering a café au lait at a quaint corner café or deciphering the nuances of Belgian humour, language proficiency enriches every aspect of expatriate life, transforming mundane tasks into meaningful experiences.
The murder of Congo’s first post-independence leader Patrice Lumumba took place as famed jazzman Louis Armstrong was touring the country. The two events were not a coincidence, as the acclaimed documentary, ‘Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat’, reveals. Writer and director Johan Grimonprez tells Maïthé Chini why he had to show jazz’s unwitting complicity in a tragic chapter of Belgian and African history
Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie and Nina Simone are jazz legends, but in the 1960s, they were unwittingly used as decoys by the United States to deflect attention from its role in its meddling in African countries like Congo, which had just won its independence from Belgium. This extraordinary story is told in a new documentary, 'Soundtrack to a Coup d'Etat', which juxtaposes jazz with political murder.
Directed by Johan Grimonprez, it cut deep into the blood-and-rubber ties between Belgium and Congo, shining a light on the United Nations, jazz as a political agent and the plot to assassinate Congo’s first democratically elected Prime Minister. It is a spiderweb of geopolitical intrigues playing like the jazziest history lesson imaginable. With a heavy dose of irony, it presents the theatre of world politics of the 1960s as a grand spectacle – complete with flashy title cards and theatrical trumpets. But its plot is deadly serious.
Patrice Lumumba, who helped lead Congo’s struggle from a Belgian colony into an independent republic and became its first Prime Minister, was wildly popular – not just in Congo but in the entire African continent. However, the Pan-African movement that Lumumba personified was viewed with alarm by Western countries, worried about threat to their resources across the continent. He was quietly targeted for assassination.
Just two months after Congo’s independence, Lumumba was dismissed as prime minister and placed under house arrest. He briefly managed to flee but was captured again in December 1960. By this time, army colonel Mobutu Sese Seko had seized control of the country in a coup. Mobutu would then order Lumumba to be sent to the breakaway province of Katanga. Belgian secretly arranged his transfer, he was flown by Belgian national carrier Sabena, and Belgian officers tortured Lumumba when he landed in Katanga. Just five hours after his arrival, he and two of his collaborators were brought to an open spot in the savanna and executed by firing squad.
“Looking at the murder, there is a connection
to jazz, but also a connection to decolonisation,” says Grimonprez, who directed the 2009 Alfred Hitchcock fantasy ‘Double Take’ and the 2017 investigation into corruption in the defence industry, ‘Shadow World’.
Grimonprez is clear: Belgium was not just complicit in Lumumba’s murder but was one of its principal perpetrators. “Everyone thinks murder as a weapon is typically CIA, but Belgium can do it just as well. Even if the gun was provided by the CIA, Belgium pulled the trigger,” he says. “It is not only the assassination of a democratically elected head of government, it is also the destabilisation of a country and the reversal of a dynamic on a continent.”
Fresh from its independence from Belgium’s colonial rule in June 1960, Congo entered the United Nations in September, together with 15 other newly independent African countries. To the annoyance of many Western countries, this tipped the balance of voting power in the UN General Assembly to the newly expanded Afro-Asian bloc.
It was the height of the Cold War at the time and the Soviet Union took advantage of the situation, with leader Nikita Khrushchev inviting all the heads of state to discuss “demilitarisation and decolonisation” at the UN General Assembly in New York.
“Of course, this was the moment right after many African countries gained independence and had just become part of the UN. They called it the Year of Africa,” Grimonprez says. “That was a political earthquake because together, they could gain the majority vote, which freaked out the West, and mainly the United States.”
Seeing this as an opportunity, Khrushchev proposed what would become the UN Declaration on Decolonisation (Resolution 1514), calling for the rapid independence of the remaining colonies. The segregationist policies in the US and the global interest in the civil rights movement also seemed to vindicate the Soviet accusations of US hypocrisy.
The Resolution was adopted in December
The Pan-African movement that Lumumba personified was viewed with alarm by Western countries, worried about threat to their resources across the continent. He was quietly targeted for assassination.
Everyone thinks murder as a weapon is typically CIA, but Belgium can do it just as well. Even if the gun was provided by the CIA, Belgium pulled the trigger.
1960 – while Lumumba was imprisoned – with 89 countries voting in favour. And while no nations voted against it, nine abstained, including the US, the UK and Belgium.
Grimonprez, born in Roeselare in 1962, just two years later, says decolonisation triggered a flood of CIA interventions in Africa. “That moment in time is actually the ground zero of the West for the neocolonial grab of the resources in the African continent. It is a ‘scramble for Africa’ again, because of its resources,” he says
Grimonprez’s documentary is the result of digging into Belgium’s metaphorical backyard and confronting the heart of darkness he found. “I grew up in Belgium, but in school, I never learned about our own shadows,” he says. “Congo was labelled L'empire du silence.”
The shadows were in the heart of Africa, but Belgians did not have to deal with it. “Whatever news came back from Congo was completely hushed up and vice versa. The Belgian Congo was kept as a bubble and the people were kept ignorant, both in Belgium and in Congo,” he says.
He makes the comparison with the US civil rights struggles. “In the US, the articulation about ‘othering’ is so prevalent because the other is inside. Americans are seemingly better able to speak about it because the confrontation was within their own country,” he says. “But the confrontation in Belgium was always the empire of silence.”
The economic exploitation of Congo was also hidden from Belgians, including Grimonprez. “I never learned about any of it. Brussels is built almost entirely on rubber money via King Leopold II. The layout of the streets and the avenues in Brussels is completely shaped by rubber money. The city is a colonial print of imperialism, but it is not named as such. And that, the not naming of things, I think is embedded in Belgium's history as a whole.”
Grimonprez describes it as a trauma and
argues it still defines the country. “Belgium is younger than the United States, so if the United States is behaving like a teenager, then Belgium is behaving like a toddler,” he says.
The movie’s historical context is provided through archival footage from speeches by the likes of human rights activist Malcolm X and then-US President Dwight Eisenhower. The sober account plays to a rhythm as the Eisenhower administration, in a bid to restore its image, turned to an unconventional weapon: jazz.
“Jazz was another device for the United States to spread propaganda. They sent black jazz ambassadors across Asia and Africa to win the hearts and minds of sort of the global south,” Grimonprez says. For example, Louis Armstrong, one of the most influential figures in jazz, was dispatched to the Congo as a diversion from the unfolding CIA-backed coup against Lumumba.
More and more jazz ambassadors – including Nina Simone, Duke Ellington, Dizzy Gillespie and Melba Liston – were sent out to newly independent countries to perform alongside covert CIA operations. But that led to internal struggles. “The flip side to this is, as Dizzy says in the film, that the musicians did not go out there to justify racial segregation inside the US,” Grimonprez says. “The African American population was not yet allowed to vote at the time. This was all happening while the civil rights movement in the States was at its height, and people were still lynched occasionally. And that is also why Nikita Khrushchev shouted and banged his shoe in the General Assembly: because of the Congo crisis.”
While these musicians were sent out as propaganda instruments, they were not passive, Grimonprez says: they still had their own voice. “Louis Armstrong is sent out and used, but he remains very critical of US policy. When he was on his Africa tour, he re-
Armstrong was still in Africa when Lumumba was killed in January, and he was furious when he learned he was used as a smoke screen. He even threatened to resign or give up his US citizenship.
fused to play for a segregated, all-white audience in South Africa.”
Armstrong arrived in Congo when Lumumba was under house arrest. “Armstrong was still in Africa when Lumumba was killed in January, and he was furious when he learned he was used as a smoke screen. He even threatened to resign or give up his US citizenship,” Grimonprez says.
If anything, the film shows that jazz can be a political agent – not only for the neocolonial powers but also for the civil rights movements. “Musicians like Abbey Lincoln and Max Roach, who were both a part of that civil rights movement, used music as a political tool as well,” Grimonprez says.
This is illustrated elegantly in sequences that bookend the documentary. It opens with Eisenhower’s call for Lumumba’s death to the rhythm of Max Roach’s famed drums and closes with the announcement that Lumumba has been liquidated and Abbey Lincoln’s seconds-long scream on their joint album 'We insist! Freedom Now'.
“This album was famously all about civil rights, and a lot of African American scholars have written about this moment as the opening salvo of the black militant movement,” Grimonprez says. “And later, it was Abbey Lincoln and Max Roach who initiated the protest in which they crashed the Security Council when they announced that Lumumba was killed. So it only felt right to end the film with that.”
'Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat' swings and shakes like the jazz that underscores the story. The speeches, testimonials and archival footage all play to the rhythm of the music and musicians featured in the film. Sometimes Grimonprez sets up a prolonged solo that might feel jarring until the puzzle pieces suddenly fall together. At other times, quick cuts build in a crescendo of information, trumpets and horns to lead to a climax of re-
alisation and insight.
Whether it's uranium for nuclear weapons or cobalt for smartphones and electric car batteries, Grimonprez cleverly intersperses decades-old statements about the effects of mining on the locals’ health and grand UN speeches about self-determination with short and shiny modern-day advertisements for iPhones and Tesla cars.
While the current situation in the Democratic Republic of Congo (or DRC, as it is now known) is only briefly mentioned, the parallels are clear; the players might be different, but history is repeating itself. “It’s all connected,” he says. “Now, it is about different minerals as it was then. But it is the same region, and above all, the same template. Colonies can become independent, but apparently not too much – especially not as long as we depend on them for expensive materials.”
Almost seven million people have been displaced as a result of conflicts across the DRC, and just a few months ago, the UN Security Council voted to withdraw the 15,000 peacekeepers stationed in the country.
A substantial chunk of ‘Soundtrack to a Coup d’État’ is dedicated to Western hypocrisy: the film asserts that Belgian and American interests in the Congo had more to do with the trillions of untapped mineral resources in the country.
Setting the figures of Denis Mukwege (the Congolese gynaecologist who received the Nobel Peace Prize for his research on sexual violence) against those of mineral extraction paints an even starker picture: 80,000 women raped since 1999 recorded in his hospital, against $24 trillion in mining turnover. “On a map, you can link those cases directly to the villages where mining takes place nearby. Rape and murder are used to drive people out,” Grimonprez says.
Much of the documentary’s narrative is shaped around the archives: Grimonprez relies on audio memoirs, narrated excerpts of political novels, performance videos and, of course, jazz music.
Particular attention was paid to the footage of the UN General Assembly, and striking excerpts were set aside. “Videos of someone picking his nose, falling asleep, looking at his watch: I was able to link footage of a pipe-smoking Allen Dulles, the head of the CIA at the time, with his denial of a coup to Belgian surrealism artist Magritte: Ceci n’est pas un coup d’état,” Grimonprez says.
The film chronicles a tragic chapter in history, but Grimonprez remains hopeful that it can help the healing process. “We will show the film in Kinshasa and the Brussels Matongé district. I am curious how it will be received there, but I am sure of one thing: whatever happens, there will be dancing,” he says.
The CIA was working to undermine African efforts at self-determination long before Congo achieved its independence from Belgium in 1960. The spy agency was already operating in Brussels during Expo 58, recruiting assets while monitoring potential enemies. In this extract from White Malice, her meticulous book about CIA interventions in Africa, renowned historian Susan Williams recounts how Expo 58 became a hive of Cold War intrigue
In the same year that the All-African People’s Conference in Accra, in Ghana, celebrated the prospect of Africa’s liberation from European colonisation, a contrasting event took place in Europe: an international exhibition that put a bright spotlight on the Belgian colonisation of Congo. This event was Expo 58, the Exposition Universelle et Internationale de Bruxelles, also known as the Brussels World’s Fair, which was held between April and October 1958.
Rooted in the tradition of the Great Exhibition that was held in the Crystal Palace in London in 1851, it was the first international exhibition since the Second World War.
Expo 58 was vast: it covered nearly 500 acres on the Heysel Plateau, just north of the city of Brussels. Some 44 nations participated, and about 18 million people came through its gates. King Baudouin of Belgium opened the exhibition, drawing attention to its slogan: ‘A world for a better life for mankind’. Its major theme was the application of technology and science to make the world more humane.
The pavilions of the US and the Soviet Union were placed next to each other, which had the effect of drawing attention to the increasingly bitter Cold War. The Soviet pavilion put the achievement of Sputnik — the first satellite in space — at its centre and celebrated communist society. At the US pavilion, which showcased the American way of life and consumer society, visitors could watch colour television, eat ice cream and drink Coca-Cola.
Seven of the Belgian pavilions were dedicated to the country’s colonial possessions: the Belgian Congo and Ruanda-Urundi (now Rwanda and Burundi). They presented exhibitions on a range of activities, including colonial administration, agriculture, Catholic missions, energy and transport, banks, insurance companies and commerce. Congolese workers were brought to Brussels to display their methods of work: tobacco industry employees made cigarettes all
day long, while potters, winnowers and sculptors demonstrated their skills. Soldiers and so-called évolués were also put on show.
A theatre in the Congo section presented Congorama: a 30-minute show using film, sound recordings and animated maps that presented “the different states of the Congo’s progress from the night of prehistory to the light of civilisation.”
Its message was clear: the “light of civilisation” had been provided by Belgium.
There was also a live version of Congorama. Nearly 600 Congolese people — 183 families, including 273 men, 128 women and 197 children — had been brought to Belgium to be put on daily display in seven acres of tropical gardens. Every day they were bussed in from their lodgings and exhibited in a so-called village indigène — native village – of straw huts, behind a bamboo perimeter fence.
They were expected to carry out traditional village activities, including craft work. This was effectively a zoo but of human beings. Six decades before Expo 58, in 1897, King Leopold II of Belgium had also organised a display of people from the Congo in the village of Tervuren, just outside Brussels, in conjunction with the Brussels International Exposition of that year: 300 Congolese people were exhibited behind fences, with notices instructing visitors not to feed them. Seven died.
Despite the evils perpetrated by Leopold II, the former king was celebrated at Expo 58. A bust representing him was placed at the entrance to the main Congo pavilion. When King Baudouin — the great-grand-nephew of Leopold II — visited the ‘native village’ at Expo 58, he greeted the Congolese from a distance with a reserved wave of his hand; he did not talk to them.
Every day, foreigners and Belgians came to watch the activities of the Congolese. Children
When King Baudouin — the greatgrand-nephew of Leopold II — visited the ‘native village’ at Expo 58, he greeted the Congolese from a distance with a reserved wave of his hand; he did not talk to them.
One of the Congolese journalists who went to Expo 58 in Brussels was the country’s future president, the then 28-yearold JosephDésiré Mobutu — highly intelligent, eager, ambitious and charming.
tried to give them bananas, and many passersby threw insults and money at them. But some of the visitors criticised the display. The Congolese “were parked there like livestock,” objected one, “and exhibited as curious beasts.”
Within three months, the Congolese in the ‘native village’ had had enough and went home. The huts were left empty. But numbers of other Congolese people remained in Brussels for the duration of Expo 58. These were nuns, journalists, dancers, singers, soldiers. A choir known as Les Troubadours were celebrated for their performance of the Missa Luba, a Latin mass sung according to Congolese harmonies and traditions.
For several years, small groups of évolués had been allowed to take educational trips to Belgium, as Congo’s first post-independence Prime Minister Patrice Lumumba had done. But now, hundreds of Congolese, including a large group of soldiers, were invited for stays of a few months to visit the Expo. “My father was allowed to go to Belgium in 1958,” recalled Jamais Kolonga. “He was very impressed by what he saw. Europeans who washed dishes and swept the streets, he
didn’t know that existed. There were even white beggars! That was a real eye-opener for him.”
The Congolese visitors to Expo 58 saw that they were welcome in the restaurants, cafés and movie theatres of Brussels. That, too, was very different from the daily segregation they experienced in the colony.
They not only discovered a different Belgium, but they also discovered each other. Until now, restrictions on travel and the long distances in the Congo had meant there was little contact between residents of the various regions.
But during those months in Belgium in 1958, people from different parts of the vast territory talked with each other about the situation at home and dreamed of a different future. A number of évolués were approached by Belgian politicians and trade union leaders, from different sides of the political spectrum.
The star football player of the Daring Football Club in Leopoldville, Longin Ngwadi, who was nicknamed ‘The Rubber Band’, came to Brussels as a servant to the current governor general, Léo Pétillon, but was not able to go to the Expo site. “We went by plane,” he recalled in an interview. “I went along as Pétillon’s houseboy. I stayed in Namur and had to cook and do the laundry. Pétillon went to the World’s Fair to look at all the merchandise. Copper, diamonds, everything from Congo, everything from every country.”
Daring Club was the top Congolese football team, and one of its most well-known players was Cyrille Adoula, who would later become Congo’s prime minister.
One of the Congolese journalists who went to Expo 58 in Brussels was the country’s future president, the then 28-year-old Joseph-Désiré Mobutu — highly intelligent, eager, ambitious and charming. He had been given the name of his great-uncle, Mobutu Sese Seko Nkuku Wa Za Banga— ‘all-conquering warrior, who goes from triumph to triumph’. His father, who was a catechist and a cook for the Capuchin missionaries, had died when he was eight. This caused problems during Mobutu’s childhood, as his widowed mother struggled to support her children.
In some ways, Mobutu was like Patrice Lumumba. At school, he had stood up to teachers when he felt they were unjust; he was an avid reader and student; he disliked Catholic missionaries; and he was very thin and near-sighted. After one year of secondary education, he joined the Force Publique, the colonial troops of the Belgian Congo, as a secretary-typist; in 1954 he was promoted to the rank of sergeant. He then — again, like Lumumba — began writing
articles for publication.
In 1956 Mobutu left the army to become a fulltime journalist and went to Léopoldville, where he wrote for Actualités Africaines and the daily newspaper, L’Avenir. During this period, Mobutu was hired as an informer for the Belgian intelligence service. After two years of this work, he was invited to Expo 58 to represent the two journals at the Congrés de la Presse Coloniale, an international congress of the colonial press. It had also been arranged for him to be trained in intelligence in Brussels, under the cover of training in social work.
On the plane to Brussels, Mobutu sat next to a Belgian journalist, who later recalled that he seemed a bit anxious and plied him with questions about Belgium. At the congress, the journalist introduced Mobutu to people: “His curiosity was insatiable: he wanted to visit everything, see everything, and understand everything.” Mobutu picked things up fast, and after a few days he got on fine. Clever and amusing, he easily charmed journalists who sought him out to ask questions about Congo.
With the rising tide of African nationalism having hit Congo, notes Georges Nzongola-Ntalaja, “Belgian and US policymakers were anxious to know who was who among the emergent politicians.”
The visitors to Brussels were carefully scrutinised. Mobutu quickly caught the eye of an American working at the US embassy in Brussels: Lawrence Raymond Devlin, generally known as ‘Larry’. A veteran of World War II and a Harvard graduate who by then was in his midto-late thirties, Devlin had been attached to the US embassy since March 1957 as an attaché and political officer.
But his position at the embassy was a cover. In fact, he was working for the CIA. Devlin retained Mobutu’s services as an informer. Mobutu was now working for both the Belgians and the Americans.
The Congo and Ruanda-Urundi pavilions and the Congolese village were located in the shadows — almost at the foot — of the centrepiece of Expo 58: the Atomium. The futuristic building, Brussels’s answer to Paris’s Eiffel Tower of 1889, is a 102-metre-tall structure resembling the nine atoms of a crystal of iron enlarged 160 billion times. The Atomium showcased the Belgian nuclear industry, of which the nation was extremely proud. The true origin of, and reason for, this industry was the Shinkolobwe uranium mine in the Congolese province of Katanga.
Not far from the Atomium was an exhibit organised by Union Minière du Haut Katanga, the multinational company that owned Shinkolobwe, to demonstrate how the uranium was mined. In addition, Belgonucleaire, a research bureau associated with Union Minière, presented its programme for the design and construc-
tion of reactors. There had been a plan to build a nuclear power station at Expo 58 to supply the site with electricity, but this was cancelled due to safety concerns.
The symbol chosen by the Belgians for the World’s Fair in Brussels — the spectacular Atomium rising in silver geometric form over the gathering of exhibits from all sectors of the globe— was fully justified.
The world’s richest uranium ore was mined in the Belgian Congo. Throughout the 1950s, America was anxious to maintain Belgian cooperation, to ensure and protect its import of uranium. To assist with this goal, it had signed an agreement to help fund and support Belgium’s nuclear energy programme. This led to the delivery and installation of two reactors: one in Belgium, the other in the Belgian Congo.
The reactor for the Congo delighted the Roman Catholic rector and founder of Lovanium University (now the University of Kinshasa) in Leopoldville: Monseigneur Luc Gillon, a nuclear physicist with a doctorate from the University of Louvain, in Belgium, who had studied at Princeton under J Robert Oppenheimer. Since 1956, he had argued that the Belgian Congo, as the territory that had supplied the raw material for the Manhattan Project, should get the benefits of an atomic reactor.
On December 3, 1958, the Belgian ambassador to the US signed a contract on the sale to Belgium of the enriched uranium to be used in the 50kW Training, Research, Isotopes, General Atomics (TRIGA) Mark I reactor, which had been built by the General Dynamics Corporation in California.
The reactor arrived in the Congo in January 1959 and became fully operational in June. It was known as the TRICO, a portmanteau of TRIGA and Congo. Its purpose was training, research and the production of isotopes for agricultural and medical purposes. This was Africa’s first nuclear reactor.
In 1956 Mobutu left the army to become a fulltime journalist and went to Léopoldville, where he wrote for Actualités Africaines and the daily newspaper, L’Avenir. During this period, Mobutu was hired as an informer for the Belgian intelligence service.
Eight-year-old Richard Harris was mesmerised by 1958 World’s Fair in Brussels, which he visited many times with his father. Little did he realise that his father was a CIA agent who was spying on the visitors
My father would spend a lot of time at the fair and often took me with him. Invariably at some point he would park me somewhere while he went to “take care of business.”
Come see what I found in Dad’s dressing room!” said my sister as she pulled me into the dressing room. “Look at this!”
What she had found was a mannequin head, a grey-haired wig and a case containing an elaborate make-up kit.
Suddenly it all made sense in my boyish mind. My father was American, and my mother was Belgian, and during my childhood, we moved between Brussels and Washington DC. For years we had wondered about our father’s work.
Officially he was a journalist working for a Rome-based subscription newslet -
ter called Business International (BI). It was only in 1977 that the New York Times revealed how BI provided cover for CIA agents in the 1950s.
When we were very young, my mother told us “When your father goes out in the middle of the night, he is doing something good.”
My mother would later recount some of what he really did. Some of it my father told me. Some of it I surmised. And in retrospect, a highlight of his time in Brussels was the 1958 World’s Fair.
I was eight during Expo 58 and I was completely immersed in it. André Waterkeyn, the creator of the Atomium, was our next-door neighbour so we had a front-row seat to its development. And my grandfather, a retired senior member of the Ministry of the Colonies, was kept in the loop on the elaborate central African presence at the fair – I remember his animated phone calls disagreeing to the plan to have living Congolese as part of the exhibits.
My father would spend a lot of time at the fair and often took me with him. Invariably at some point he would park me somewhere while he went to “take care of business.”
My father would later tell me that he had been in the US Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the Second World War precursor agency to the CIA. He worked with T-Force, whose mission was to secure anything of intelligence value from the retreating Germans.
By May 1944, there were 11,000 American officers and foreign agents – including my father – scattered in capitals across Europe. The CIA hired my father in 1947 when it was founded, making him a charter member.
In 1952, after five years with the agency in Brussels, he was reassigned to headquarters, then in Washington DC, before returning to Brussels two years later. When he left the agency – or The Boys, as he referred to it – he told his colleagues he
was leaving for good. So whatever work he was doing back in Brussels was likely deeply undercover – and it had taken two years of training to get him ready.
Only one person at the US embassy in Brussels knew his true role and that was the CIA station chief, who was officially the cultural attaché. Not even the ambassador knew. The cultural attaché lived across the street, making communication easy and low profile. “I’m going to see Roger” was all he said when he went over.
Everyone agreed that placing the Russian and American pavilions at Expo 58 next to each other at an angle with the French pavilion partially separating them was a Belgian joke.
It certainly emphasised their different images. Entering the American pavilion, one was greeted by a huge pile of Raggedy Ann dolls. However, visitors to the Soviet pavilion were met by an enormous tank and a huge tractor – and this, just two years after tanks had rolled into Budapest to suppress the Hungarian uprising.
It turns out that the fair was the perfect environment for espionage. It offered many believable covers for visiting foreigners and was a Cold War free-for-all with the highest concentration of spies ever assembled.
Two moments stand out in retrospect. One was when my father took me to the UNIVAC computer in the American pavilion. People could ask the computer what had happened on a particular date and a
page would print out with the events of that day. My father suggested that I ask what happened on my birth date – but without saying when it was. The computer gave back a flawless answer.
I may have been only eight years old, but I didn’t buy the idea that the computer had calculated my birthday. My father told me that the operator would size up the people asking and make an educated guess. I still wasn’t convinced.
I figured that my father had passed on the information. After all, he had spent a lot of time at the pavilion as it was being set up.
The other moment was also in the American pavilion. This was one of the times that my father left me in a room filled with toys and some other children.
However, when my father came back to retrieve me, I noticed portholes in the wall. People were behind the wall, watching me, spying on me!
It was years later that my sister found the dressing room items.
We decided it was time to confront our mother. It was a welcome release for her to tell us about it. For obvious reasons, the spouse of the agent had to know a minimum. She told us that only eight people in the CIA did what our father did. When my sister mentioned the wig and kit my mother told us that he would sometimes disguise himself as “an old German professor” to do his work.
As for me, Expo 58 was a fantasy world predicting a space-age society that I wanted to believe in. But it was also the beginning of my questioning of truth and appearances. When we were very young and our father said, “I’m James Bond - ha ha!”. We should have believed him.
The fair was the perfect environment for espionage. It offered many believable covers for visiting foreigners and was a Cold War free-for-all with the highest concentration of spies ever assembled.
It is 30 years since the 100-day genocide in Rwanda that left at least 800,000 dead. The hatred that drove the killing spree is partly a legacy of Belgium’s colonial rule, as Thimoté Bozzetto explains
By 1930, the Belgian authorities introduced ethnicity on Rwandan identity papers. The concepts of Hutu and Tutsi, initially social categories, would become ‘races’, and Rwandan society would slowly become more ethnically split.
Machetes, clubs, pickaxes and spears. These were the weapons used by Rwandans as they slaughtered their fellow countrymen during the 1994 genocide. They were used against colleagues, neighbours, friends, spouses, and in chilling instances, even their own children.
This year, Rwanda marks the 30th anniversary of the genocide, 100 days of unspeakable horrors that only ended on July 14, 1994. During those three months, between 800,000 and a million men, women and children perished – more than one-tenth of the population – mainly Tutsis killed by the majority Hutus.
Why did they turn against each other so savagely?
The genocide had many roots, some going back to centuries-old disputes. But one of them, often overlooked, is the role of Belgium.
Like Congo, its bigger neighbour, Rwanda was a Belgian colony, until 1962, the year of independence.
Rwanda had been a German colony since 1885, but the Belgians drove them out in 1916
during the First World War, and in 1924, the League of Nations officially gave Belgium a mandate over Ruanda-Urundi (a union of Rwanda and its southern neighbour, Burundi).
Unlike Congo, which is immense, boasting minerals, rubber, gold and uranium, Rwanda is resource-poor. “Rwanda was the backyard of the Belgian colonies. It was of no economic interest to Belgium,” says Léon Saur, a Belgian historian and associate researcher at the Institut des Mondes Africains in Paris, Few in number, the Belgian administrators had to rely on the local elite, the Tutsis, to govern. Dabbling with anthropometry, the study of physical human dimensions, many Belgians and missionaries applied it to the classification and differentiation of races. They saw the Tutsis — who had finer facial features, were taller, sometimes up to two metres tall, and lighter-skinned than their Hutu counterparts — as a superior race.
The Hutus and Tutsis shared – and still share - the same culture, language, religion and traditions. Relations between them were relatively fluid, and intermarriage was common. But
after the Belgians began favouring the Tutsis, their relationship with the Hutus would change. The Tutsis were, among other things, better schooled and trained by the Belgians, who needed educated personnel to run their administration.
By 1930, the Belgian authorities introduced ethnicity on Rwandan identity papers. The concepts of Hutu and Tutsi, initially social categories, would become ‘races’, and Rwandan society would slowly become more ethnically split.
The church also played a role as the evangelical White Fathers moved to covert Rwandans to Christianity. From the 1930s, it began opening its doors to the ‘little people’, mostly Hutus. While the Tutsis saw the church as an imposed element, for the Hutus, the church would be an instrument of emancipation.
Hutus, including their future leader, Grégoire Kayibanda, received education and training from seminarians and learned to speak Latin and French.
As a wave of independence movements swept across Africa in the 1950s, the main fear in Brussels was that Rwanda would fall to communists.
The Tutsi-led UNAR, the Rwandese National Union party, was pro-monarchist but the church and the Belgian authorities saw them as communists. Having previously favoured the Tutsis, the Belgians switched sides to support the Hutus.
Grégoire Kayibanda, the Hutu leader of the Parmehutu party, claimed the Tutsis were outsiders and therefore colonialists: he sought to abolish the privileges of the ‘Tutsi race’. The Belgians propelled him to power.
in his Pastoral Letter for Lent in 1959, Monsignor Perraudin, Vicar Apostolic of Rwanda, wrote: “In our Ruanda, social differences and inequalities are to a large extent linked to differences of race, in the sense that wealth on the one hand and political and even judicial power on the other, are in reality in considerable proportion in the hands of people of the same race.” Many saw this as a declaration of war against the Tutsis.
The shift in support meant the independence movement changed from a social uprising to an ethnic revolt. The revolution, which lasted between 1959 and 1961, saw the huts of the Tutsis burnt down and 300,000 flee to neighbouring countries.
Colonel Guy Logiest, then stationed in the Belgian Congo, was tasked with restoring order in Rwanda. He saw Kayibanda's Parmehutu as his solution: an openly Catholic party, and therefore “inevitably” anti-Communist.
With Belgium set to pull out of Rwanda in 1962, Kayibanda was confirmed as Rwanda’s
first independent president (a 1961 referendum abolished the monarchy).
The internal conflicts would continue for decades with some episodes of violence against the Tutsis. But Brussels maintained healthy relations with Kigali and continued to send weapons to fight against the exiled Tutsis attempting to force their way back into Rwanda from neighbouring countries.
The genocide erupted more than three decades later, some four years into a civil war. On April 7, 1994, ten Belgian peacekeepers assigned to protect the Prime Minister were killed. The Belgian political world was stunned: nobody had expected it, especially since the Rwandan and Belgian militaries were intricately connected.
The consequences were dramatic: Belgium withdrew its 450 soldiers from the United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda (UNAMIR), soon before being followed by other states, leaving the way clear for the massacre. Who knows how many lives might have been saved had they, and others, stayed?
On July 4, 1994, after 100 days, the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) created by exiled Tutsis seized control of the capital. Rwanda then entered a period of judging those responsible and, above all, of reconciliation. It was only this May that the UN war crimes tribunal for Rwanda wrapped up its mission, as it accounted for the last remaining indicted fugitives, two local organisers of Hutu militia, who were both charged with genocide and crimes against humanity.
As for Belgium, it was not until 2000 that then-Prime Minister Guy Verhofstadt apologised to Rwanda in a speech in Kigali: “In the name of my country, I bow before the victims of the genocide. In the name of my country, in the name of my people, I ask your forgiveness.”
Colonel Guy Logiest, then stationed in the Belgian Congo, was tasked with restoring order in Rwanda. He saw Kayibanda's Parmehutu as his solution: an openly Catholic party, and therefore “inevitably” anti-Communist.
Despite its grandeur, Place Royale in Brussels is blighted by traffic. The current renovation project aims to create a more inviting public area, featuring newly laid cobbles, restored pavements and improve access for pedestrians and cyclists. Frédéric Moreau looks back at its rich history and forward to its bid to become a space where both locals and tourists can enjoy its architectural and historical beauty
The only revolutionary aspect of the scheme is that traffic will cease to revolve around the statue in the centre of the space. Instead, cars, trams and buses will pass through a breadcrumb trail of discreet bollards
forming a bow on the west side.
Place Royale is the great survivor of Brussels. Its late-18th-century architecture appears to have emerged unscathed from its first quarter millennium of existence. The cobbled mosaic of its road surface is battered but still in place, as are its bluestone pavements, often said to be the first in Europe.
Perched 45 metres above the lower town, it offers three magnificent perspectives: two closed by distant 19th-century domes and the third by the medieval spire of the old Hôtel de Ville below in the Grand Place. Unlike that car-free tourist honeypot lined with its back-slapping parade of gilded stone attention-seekers, the more severe facades in Place Royale are perhaps more admired than loved. That severity has long intimidated the city’s planners, warding them off any visible changes. For a century, strollers have had to dash between cars as well as trams to the safety of the plinth of the statue in the centre to enjoy those perspectives or steal a glance behind a bus from one of the crossings. Instead, tourists tend to pool down the hill at the summit of the Mont des Arts.
This is set to change as work starts on the latest pedestrian-friendly Brussels beautification project. In recent decades, just 20% of the site has been dedicated to those on foot, with the remainder allocated to motorised transport. By 2025, this situation will be more than reversed, with 85% reserved for pedestrians, although they will have to share it with cyclists.
As at the projects planned for the Schuman roundabout and Ave de la Toison d'Or, the aim is to tame, not remove motorised traffic. All three schemes hope to adapt historic sites that pre-date cars to 2020s mobility policy, meaning the reversal of the harrowing legacy of car-
first planning from the second half of the 20th century. Place Royale is the oldest and by far the most delicate from a heritage perspective.
The only revolutionary aspect of the scheme is that traffic will cease to revolve around the statue in the centre of the space. Instead, cars, trams and buses will pass through a breadcrumb trail of discreet bollards forming a bow on the west side. The entire east side in front of the church will become a coathanger-shaped public space, with newly-relaid cobbles and restored pavements. LED mood lighting will enliven the experience after dark, and for the first time in decades there will be somewhere to sit. Stone benches will encircle the central statue and wait each side of Rue de la Montagne de la Cour for those who have hiked up the hill from the Grande-Place. When work is complete, Place Royale will be one of the largest public spaces in the region, according to Ans Persoons, Brussels State Secretary for Urban Planning and Heritage.
With improved pedestrian access to Place Royale from the immediate approaches, the project is squarely aimed at tourists, encouraging them to linger on the way to or from the park, the museums and the downtown via the Mont des Arts. While the City of Brussels is on the hook for new traffic lights, bus stops and bins, the state will pay for most of the work via Beliris, the Brussels infrastructure agency. But no fresh attractions are planned, no trees either and the budget is a modest €6.3 million. On the face of it, the changes are somewhat superficial for a project six years in the making.
That’s perhaps to be expected, because views aside, Place Royale is little more than the sum of its neoclassical facades and vintage road surfaces, beneath which there is no room for deep tree roots.
Paradoxically, the square is one of the city’s best preserved and least well-preserved sites, both physically and in nature. Virtually no original interior elements survive and what was once one of the most intensely sociable locations in the city has been reduced to a stage set. While there are nominally four museums on the square, they are mainly entered from surrounding streets. Many of what were front doors have not been used in decades, giving the place the feel, if not the appearance, of an alleyway.
It wasn’t always this way, a rectangle of grandiose institutional fire exits. Far from the aristocratic residential enclave it might appear to be, Place Royale was a mixed development from its inception in the 1770s,
with offices as well as homes. Cabs would later crowd the central section, and the square came to be lined with shops, hotels, banks and cafés. Under terrace awnings, café customers enjoyed those facades in their authentic context, as a backdrop to the theatre of urban life. Nowadays, you can’t even get a cup of coffee there, let alone sit down. The only catering on hand is waffle vans, those ambulances providing first aid to distressed Brussels tourist spots.
Yet a few centuries back and a few metres below those queues for stand-up snacks, hundreds of diners would sit at tables, guests at the feasts in a grand banqueting hall, whose remains have been open for visits since 2000. One of Place Royale’s newest attractions is also its oldest, its predecessor on the site in fact, the buried ruins of the Coudenberg Palace. Waterproofing the roof of those remains in the northwest corner marks phase one of the renovation work and perhaps the first step in returning this location to its place among the must-visits of Brussels.
The creation of a castle at the site of present-day Place Royale dates back to the 11th century, when the local ruler chose a spot on the safer, healthier heights to the east of the city, the Coudenberg (cold mountain). As the importance of Brussels grew, this defensive nucleus sprouted into a complex that sprawled across a plateau between two valleys, shielded from outside attack thanks to a bespoke kink in the city’s first wall (a fragment survives above ground in nearby rue Brederode).
On the western edge of the plateau overlooking the lower town, the Aula Magna, or great hall, was built in the 1450s for Philip the Good at the expense of the city, hoping the Duke of Burgundy’s travelling court would linger in Brussels. From the 1520s, Charles V, Emperor as well as Duke (and semi-permanent Brussels resident), had this extended to the north by a chapel whose choir plunged many metres down into the valley of the Coperbeek, which flowed downhill to meet the Senne river at present-day Boulevard Anspach.
A residential wing stretched at a right angle to the chapel and featured a gallery giving dramatic views north over the stream to a wooded hunting ground, the Warande, now the Park of Brussels. Opposite the Aula Magna across an inner courtyard and a small square known as the Places de Bailles was the church and buildings of the Provost (later Abbey) of Coudenberg. More or less a dead end, the site was bordered to the south by the steenweg, the main east-west road through Brussels.
In February 1731, a great blaze at the palace consumed the residential wing and damaged much of the complex. The frozen water on the cold mountain complicated firefight-
ing and while the chapel was mostly spared, only the walls of the Aula Magna remained. Much reduced in prestige since the abdication of the Emperor, the days of chivalric feasting and hunting had long been over for Brussels. Belgian nationhood (and local monarchy) was still a century away. Instead of rebuilding the kingly hilltop resort in this now provincial court, the Austrian governors left it to rot and created a new palace further down the slope into Brussels by knocking together some existing courtly mansions. In the 1760s, Charles de Lorraine, governor for 40 years of the Austrian Netherlands, art lover and collector of books and manuscripts gave them a new wing in a neoclassical style reflecting his enlightenment tastes (the Royal Library of Belgium sits behind this facade now).
A decade later, the government finally decided to do something about the ‘burned court’, as Coudenberg had become to be known, when a statue of Charles was proposed for the centre of the old courtyard. The 18th-cen-
What was once one of the most intensely sociable locations in the city has been reduced to a stage set. While there are nominally four museums on the square, they are mainly entered from surrounding streets.
English officers were caught up in the Belgian Revolution of 1830 while on a summer city break in Brussels. They watched transfixed from the Belle-Vue’s windows as patriot snipers picked off Dutch troops in the park.
tury preservationists would be disappointed. Instead of restoring the late-Gothic chapel and re-roofing the medieval Aula Magna as hoped, the authorities had them razed for the sake of economy.
To plans from French architects Barnabé Guimard and Jean Benoît Vincent Barré, engineers levelled out the court and its old gardens and hunting ground to create what were effectively two rectangular squares lined with mansions. Firstly, on a previously-undreamt-of scale, surrounding a new landscaped pleasure park replacing the hunting ground (a section of the Coperbeek valley survives in the southern end of the present-day Park of Brussels). Another, far more intimate, the Place Royale, replaced the ancient, mismatched palace buildings.
Along the exposed jawline of the old court’s northwestern edge overhanging the city, jagged remains of the floors and cellars of the Aula Magna and Chapel served as foundations for the new buildings of Place Royale. Gone was the fun baroque touch of the concave entrance to Charles’ palace.
A series of letters patent decreed uniform, flat, rendered facades, and a gleaming white Austrian crown was set atop the red-brick stumps of the Burgundian past, well above the previous ground level.
This haughtiness of the Place Royale, architecturally and literally (it sits 45 metres above the central boulevards of Brussels), has challenged the city’s authorities ever since. The perpendicular geometry of the square and park dictated the trajectory of new streets across the future sprawl of prosperous eastern Brussels in the decades to come. This left Place Royale as both immutable monument and a crucial node in a communications system stretching southeast to the Bois de la Cambre via the future Palais de Justice and Avenue Louise and north to Schaerbeek via Rue Royale. The difficult connection west to the lower town, exacerbated by the extra height, was left hanging for now.
The Enlightenment was also that of recognisably modern economics. Unlike its courtly predecessor, the new square would have to produce as well as consume wealth. The eight pavilions lining the Place Royale were brought into being via an embryo and muscular form of public-private partnership. In addition to aristocrats building homes here, the imperial lottery-built numbers 1-2 (now the Magritte Museum) and the abbeys of Coudenberg and Grimbergen were leaned on to build numbers 5-8 and 10 respectively, the former sacrificing its church (their reward would be the suppression of their orders during French revolutionary rule).
Number 9 meanwhile, now the BELvue museum, was from the start a travellers’ hotel targeting luxury, especially English, tourists. The Duke of Wellington used the Hôtel Belle-Vue as his base when visiting Brussels after Waterloo.
Fifteen years after Waterloo, another battle took place in the former hunting ground. With the same viewpoint from which Renaissance aristocrats had watched the hunt, English officers were caught up in the Belgian Revolution of 1830 while on a summer city break in Brussels. They watched transfixed from the Belle-Vue’s windows as patriot snipers picked off Dutch troops in the park and as a cannon on the hotel’s terrace ripped through the trees. Wellington’s niece Lady Charles Bentick was among a group of English female guests forced to take shelter in the larder for three days. Harangued by Lady Bentinck, demanding to know if they should evacuate, the hotelier, weighing the loss of income against potential public relations fallout, told her they should. With musket balls whistling past their ears, the
women were led through the square and down to the safety of the maze of streets in the old town by a detachment of bourgeois.
A year later on July 21, the swearing-in ceremony of a new King of the Belgians, Leopold I, was held in front of the Church of Saint-Jacques (on a spot which would soon be occupied by the largest section of the new pedestrian zone – perhaps this newly-conquered public space will again host events, but the city isn’t saying). Arriving from England, Leopold was following in the footsteps of a large British community that had taken up residence in the Place Royale quarter soon after Waterloo. Some were economic refugees from the cost-of-living crisis in London but many had come to do business. Over the decades a network of British booksellers, shipping and house agents, banks and inns would spring up in the square and surrounding streets.
In 1848, Leopold would preside over another ceremony aimed at emphasising Belgian statehood. On August 15, the royal family assembled on the first floor of the Hôtel Britannique to witness the inauguration of a statue of Godefroid de Bouillon, the 11th century crusader king, born in what would later become Belgium and as such a national hero. It took the place once occupied by the statue of Charles V – melted down by the French in 1794 to make coinage, finally paying its way like the rest of the square – to be replaced by an arbre de la liberté (probably the only tree the square will ever know).
Remarkably, this display of order and tradition took place just six months after Leopold’s father-in-law, Louis Philippe, had been deposed in a new revolution in Paris, by then a direct train ride away, and as unrest continued to seize European capitals. The Comte de Mérode made a speech pointing out it was all his idea and promising a new crusade. This time, no doubt with an eye on Paris, a crusade against poverty and misery. A specially composed Hymn to Godefroid was sung. A hit, it would be covered in 1850 by a choir of 1,500 at the Antwerp music festival. In 1851 in London, a copy of the statue of Godefroid was the centrepiece of the display of Belgian industry and technology at the Great Exhibition. The business of Belgium was business. In the decades leading up to the First World War, it was business that would dominate Place Royale, the hospitality business above all. To the left of the mouth of Rue de Namur was the Globe Tavern, its awning stretching out over the pavement and its wine cellars stretching north beneath the church. To the left of the church was the Hôtel de Flandres with its famous restaurant and winter garden. It came under the
same ownership as the Belle-Vue next door and their owners the Dremel family, tireless boosters of the upper town of Brussels, would milk the 1830 associations for all they were worth as well as a list of guests that reads like a roll call of 19th-century royalty. Unable to knock the two buildings together because of the strictures protecting the colonnade that separated them, they built a tunnel between them.
For decades at number 10 (now BIP House of the Capital Region), the Café de l’Amitié offered views over the park. At Number 14, the Taverne de La Régence had replaced the old Hôtel Britannique that had once hosted the royal family. It spread its awning out wide over the spot covering the Aula Magna. The Hôtel de l’Europe at numbers 1-2 occupied the space façadised in the 1980s and now hosting the Magritte Museum. At their
At the beginning of the 20th century, as not just trams but also cars began to rattle across Place Royale, its hotels began to close.
In the 2012 Belgian deepstate police TV thriller Salamander, spooks conspiring against the police are seen entering the old side door of the Globe to access their secret HQ from a deserted, shadowy Place Royale.
late 19th-century peak, Brussels hospitality venues welcomed diners and guests behind perhaps half of the square’s front doors.
Designed from the start to accommodate new interiors behind unchanging facades, the financial and commercial sector also arrived in the square and began to edge out hospitality. The Gresham insurance company acquired Baron Osy’s residence at number 3 in 1900 and had architect Léon Govaerts perform a spectacular Art Nouveau transformation of its entry halls behind an unchanged white facade. As well as Gresham, other offices moved into this business incubator, many American, including the Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company, and Govaerts’ own architectural practice. By 1914, the Old England department store (now Museum of Musical Instruments) a few steps away down Rue de la Montagne de la Cour, refused permission to extend its vast Art Nouveau premises over the square, took over the Taverne de La Regence for extra retail space. At the beginning of the 20th century, as not just trams but also cars began to rattle across Place Royale, its hotels began to close. Unable to expand to compete with much larger purpose-built rivals, they began to suffer from their poor connection to the lively lower town, transformed by the new boulevards built over the Senne river. As trade flowed downhill, following the course of the ancient Coperbeek, fantastic schemes were dreamed up to fix the altitude problem. An 880-metre-long, illuminated iron viaduct leading pedestrians from the park to Place de Brouckère 40 metres over the city was suggested. The Dremels proposed a palace hotel, a city within a city by the royal palace itself that would feature a 15-metre-deep tunnel accessed by an elevator and connected to Boulevard Anspach. By now, however, the jewel in the family crown, the Belle-Vue hotel, had been acquired by the crown itself for royal purposes (it became the BELvue museum in 2005).
The altitude problem would be solved, to the satisfaction of none, by means of far more mundane technology. The remaining medieval quarter that had sat just below the Coudenberg Palace was razed in the first decade of the 20th century to accommodate the present-day Bozar, among other institutions. Supported by concrete pillars, the curving ramp of Rue Ravenstein made up the height difference between lower Brussels and the Place Royale, jacked up by 18th-century engineers.
Two world wars put an end to the hospitality industry in Place Royale. By 1919, the last hotel, the Europe, was a government ministry, and in 1949 the last café, the Globe, was converted into a bank by the Belgian ancestor of ING. The final refreshments on the square
dried up in the 1970s with the closure of Old England and its tea room on the site of the old Taverne de la Régence and above the buried banqueting hall. And with that, the square turned its back on the city.
While the base of the statue will be restored as part of the work, Godefroid himself will not. Last cleaned in 1990, his return to the square marked the start of the last major three-year renovation of Place Royale. This plan included the rebuilding of the former Hôtel de Flandres (by then the African Library of the old Ministry of Colonies) to create a court and of the old Gresham offices for the use of the Royal Museum of Fine Arts.
The plan’s centrepiece was the re-erection of the facade of Victor Horta’s 1899 Hôtel Aubecq along the vacant south side of Rue Montagne de la Cour. Standing opposite its exact Art Nouveau contemporary, the Old England (to be restored as the Museum of Musical Instruments), it would have fronted a complex of apartments and shops as well as serving as a central reception area for the museums around Place Royale.
However, the Horta plan was dropped amid concerns over its impact on the view to the Grande Place and on the adjacent neoclassical facades. Instead, the customary Brussels compromise has left the space as collection of hedges ever since. On the square itself, the demolitions of the buildings behind the facades meanwhile went ahead unopposed.
Today, of the eight original pavilions all but one are in institutional hands. The eighth, the former Globe at number 5-6, was last used by ING as a gallery to show off its art collection and now stands empty. It was bought in 2022 by an investment fund associated with the Jaspers-Eyers architectural bureau but they haven’t revealed their plans for the building.
In the 2012 Belgian deep-state police TV thriller Salamander, spooks conspiring against the police are seen entering the old side door of the Globe to access their secret HQ from a deserted, shadowy Place Royale. It would have been a nonsense to set such a scene in the Grand Place but Place Royale is set in the public imagination as a non-accessible location. At some point, the square had died.
The city and region of Brussels want Place Royale to become once again a place to linger and savour those views: the architecture of the square itself of course, but also the vista of the dome of the Palais de Justice, scheduled to shed its 45-year old scaffolding in time for Belgium’s bicentenary in 2030, when it commemorates the independence won in that battle witnessed by the Belle-Vue. The blue-stone benches are a good start. They will feature copper tones - it wouldn’t be 2020s Brussels
The arrival of Godefroid in 1848 was part of yet another renovation of the square along with the entire Royal Quarter led by the architect TilmanFrancois Suys. The pavements, the cobbles, the belltower on the church of Saint Jacques and the railings around the park all date from this campaign.
without a little touch of bling - and are perhaps the only gesture to change allowed by the Royal Commission for Monuments and Sites (CRMS/KCML) over the long gestation of the project, when authenticity and faithfulness to the square’s original design was insisted upon.
Perhaps the most authentic gesture of all would be the eviction of Godefroid, an anachronous romantic-period sculpture out of proportion to the neoclassical square. Mercifully, an early proposal to place him in the centre of a circular lawn, like a giant, armed garden gnome, was dropped.
The arrival of Godefroid in 1848 was part of yet another renovation of the square along with the entire Royal Quarter led by the architect Tilman-Francois Suys. The pavements, the cobbles, the belltower on the church of Saint Jacques and the railings around the park all date from this campaign, and this mid-19th century version is what the CRMS uses as its benchmark for authenticity. Anticipating crit-
icism of this (rather arbitrary) asceticism imposed on the renovations, notably the absence of any greenery, Ans Persoons observed that, “historically, there were no trees on neoclassical squares” but that climate-change factors could lead to “reflection on the subject in the future”.
For now, at least, there will be no trees to provide welcome shade on Place Royale. But that should not prevent the square from being more welcoming. As well as the treasures below its surface in the Coudenberg palace site, there are many more behind its facades that could persuade visitors to linger if those institutions were permitted to show a little more imagination. Further remains of the Coudenberg Palace and of the winter garden of the old Hôtel de Flandre are known only to those with business at the Constitutional Court. The former salon of the Café de l’Amitié, transformed into a banking hall for Lloyds and National Provincial Foreign Bank just before World War One, still has that enchanting view over the park, but is a meeting room for the BIP. Would a friendly café in there for Brussels visitors not be a fine gesture from Visit Brussels? And do Govaerts’ spectacular Art Nouveau delights at the old Gresham building not deserve a better fate than being an exit through the gift shop? Hidden behind the BELvue, there is a leafy and beautiful outdoor café where the cannon stood in 1830. Perhaps thanks to a small revolution, instead of bins, a second terrace could occupy its corner of the square. Covered of course by a big, authentic old-fashioned awning, as Place Royale recovers its place in the sun.
Interest in what lay beneath the square revived around 100 years after its creation. The architect of Old England, Paul Saintenoy, became a lifelong obsessive about the vanished Coudenberg and hoped to have a replica of the Aula Magna to his design erected in the old Brussels section of the 1897 International Exposition.
It didn’t happen and Saintenoy perhaps contented himself with an echo of the great hall via the addition of a large polygonal turret to the facade of Old England (he lived to see the replica built for the 1935 Expo).
In 1984, the remains of Coudenberg under the BIP were declared a monu-
ment and 20 years later protection was extended to the buried Rue Isabelle and the Aula Magna itself (it wasn’t always smooth progress – in 2003 the entire floor of the ancient hall, 500 blue and white paving stones forming a chequered pattern, were stolen from their storage place beneath the expressway in Auderghem).
Opened to the public in 2000, Coudenberg is perhaps the Square’s finest feature, but it can only be accessed by following in Lady Bentinck’s footsteps down into the basement of the BELvue and following a circuitous route under Rue Royale. You can however get a glimpse of the ruins from the square through the emergency exit door under the BIP gift shop.
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Flemish designer An Gillis and Moroccan artist Nabil Aniss didn’t know where to start when they were told to create an artwork together. What emerged was a wool art installation that reflects the tension between heritage and consumerism. Margherita Bassi spoke to them
The last person in Nabil Aniss’ family to wear the Haïk (حايك) was his grandmother, born in Morocco’s Atlas Mountains. The Moroccan Haïk is a multifunctional wool textile and a defining feature of Berber material culture. The garment could be used as a blanket, draped around the shoulders like a shawl or even rolled out on the ground as a carpet for weary limbs.
As Morocco urbanised, more and more mountain communities left their sharppeaked villages for shiny cities and modern lives. The Haïks, too thick for the city heat and too woolly for contemporary fashion, were left behind. Today, Aniss cannot even find pictures of his grandmother wearing the Haïk, though the idea of the thick, blanketlike garment is ever present in his family’s consciousness – even more so now that Aniss has breathed new life into its memory.
Aniss moved from Morocco to Brussels to study at the Université Libre de Bruxelles (ULB) in 2009 and stayed after falling in love with the Belgian capital. He worked in creative advertising agencies before becoming a full-time artist three years ago.
His main subject is determinism, and his art explores how we can break away from our so-called destinies. “I moved from a working-class Moroccan family into the Brussels bourgeoisie, which created a personal tension,” he says. “I wanted to understand why some people can change classes while others can’t.”
He began with physical installations and
print, transitioned to abstract photography and language, and in the past year has dedicated himself to sound and film installation.
When he was invited to take part in For The Now’s Binôme, a Belgian design exchange platform, and partnered with Flemish designer An Gillis to create a physical art object that could bridge the gap between their diverse artistic and cultural backgrounds, the first challenge was just that: creating an object.
Aniss had shed his artistic interest in physical objects years ago. Gillis, on the other hand, was more grounded in the physicality of things. Though she, too, did not have an artistic background, she’d always loved the tactile nature of materials and making things with her hands. After studying and working in the field of economics, she went back to school to learn about interior architecture.
But faced with fast furniture design concepts, Gillis began asking herself some difficult questions. “We buy cheaply, we throw away, and we have no personal feeling for our objects,” she says. Out of this came a challenge: how to create objects that are imbued with value, that are treasured, that are passed on as family heirlooms?
The search for an answer led Gillis to the one thing that people continue to identify with: local history. She created objects and
But faced with fast furniture design concepts, Gillis began asking herself some difficult questions. “We buy cheaply, we throw away, and we have no personal feeling for our objects,” she says.
How did Aniss and Gillis make the tapestry? They stuck to the ancient traditional material from both cultures – wool – and sourced it locally in Belgium, an endeavour that would unknowingly propel them into an industry that had also suffered from humanity’s fickle relationship to material goods.
installations that narrate local history, personal histories – and make them think twice before throwing away.
When For The Now partnered Gillis with Aniss in the Binôme project, they were just told to create something together. “The biggest struggle was that there was no brief,” Aniss recalls.
Bridging differences was the entire point of the project – and to both Aniss and Gillis’ relief, they found common ground. “From the first time I saw him, I knew it would work,” Gillis says. Their work ethic was especially compatible. “Neither of us are free-spirit artists drinking all night,” she laughs. And soon, they landed on an idea: that which is hidden.
“The hidden” is a concept that they both related to in their own artistic journeys. Power dynamics in societies, and the connection that ties us to material objects are both things that are felt and not seen. And things that are felt are rarely given the same amount of credit as those that are seen. Thus they remain hidden.
But the idea still lacked an object – until Aniss thought of the Haïk, which had once been so important to his Berber ancestors. When he showed Gillis a picture of it, her reaction was immediate. “Yes. This is it,” she told him.
They identified a common visual element of the Haïk that was also often reflected in their own artworks: stripes. A simple pattern that is perhaps as old as design itself, and yet persists today not just as decoration, but also as a contemporary and practical tool: the barcode.
This fusion between the Haïk and the barcode created a new artistic language to tell the story of lost material heritage and the dangers of modern throwaway culture.
The Haïk also reminded Gillis of medieval tapestries, an art that Flanders came to dom-
inate. These textiles were handmade from wool and depicted contemporary scenes from history – a sort of ancient barcode, if you will.
So, how did Aniss and Gillis make the tapestry? They stuck to the ancient traditional material from both cultures – wool – and sourced it locally in Belgium, an endeavour that would unknowingly propel them into an industry that had also suffered from humanity’s fickle relationship to material goods.
Aniss quickly painted a deconstructed version of a barcode, but turning this visual into a Haïk-like textile woven out of Belgian wool would turn out to be much more difficult than expected, despite the hundreds of thousands of sheep that are kept in Belgium (110,115,000 as of 2020). So they turned to textile designer and Belgian wool connoisseur Céline Lambrechts.
Lambrechts was a natural mentor. Originally from the town of Lier (whose locals are nicknamed “de Schepekoppen” meaning “sheep heads”) she grew up around sheep and wool, and now is determined to revive the sector.
For a region once known as the wool capital of Europe, the fact that Belgium exported €14 million in wool in 2022 but also imported €8 million in foreign wool that same year (primarily from New Zealand, the UK and Germany) is frankly astonishing. “That’s why in our country that whole industry vanished in the last century,” Lambrechts says.
The reason for this shift? Buyers prefer softer and cheaper wool from places like New Zealand and Australia, valuing this over the ancient artisanal culture of their country, Lambrechts says. As Gillis would say, they no longer identify themselves with their material heritage.
Despite the challenge of working with a product that Belgium is no longer equipped to process, Lambrechts was committed to using local materials and being involved in every step of the creation process: from wash-
ing the wool to spinning the yarn to weaving the final product.
Lambrechts joined a small but growing community of people trying to reduce wool waste and reignite this ancient industry. While Lambrechts uses it to create textiles, some companies have tried using it as isolation material in construction, and some gardeners even experiment with wool as an alternative to mulch.
When Gillis called Lambrechts, the prospects were bleak. Most Belgian wool is treated as waste material – and the rest is processed overseas.
But Lambrechts made some prototypes for Aniss and Gillis, and over time the artist duo found more local experts that ultimately made the creation of the Haïk possible.
Frédérique Bagoly, owner and creator of the natural fibre spinning mill in Namur called La Filature de Hibou, sourced local wool and spun it into yarn. Then Marie-Anne van der Plaetsen from the weaving company B&T Textilia tested the yarn on their industrial machines and created the final product: two tapestries (that can be hung on a wall or worn as a garment) and a mat with a cushion, also stuffed with Belgian wool.
Aniss and Gillis’ installation, first exhibited last September at Gare Maritime during Brussels Design September, underlines the clash between ancient material heritage and modern consumer habits. It also raises a question: what do we do with this impractical yet important tradition?
One possible answer is recommitting to using locally sourced materials, as Lambrechts does. Aniss and Gillis want to prove that though difficult, creating wool products from start to finish in Belgium is not impossible. They hope their work inspires designers and companies to work with local materials – to fight against a deterministic future and reconnect with their local roots,
as Aniss and Gillis might say.
“That's one of the stories we wanted to tell the other designers. You can do this in Belgium, you just have to commit some effort and work with companies that have a lot of pride in what they do,” Gillies explains.
On the other hand, the artists say that the conservation of history is ultimately a museum’s responsibility, and that artists who try to take this colossal task upon themselves tend to resort to a nostalgic and often imprecise reminiscent lens.
Gillis, however, does think that artists should express collective heritage with a contemporary touch to remind people of their past and consider how to integrate that knowledge into their present. “It’s a way to keep telling our history in different ways,” she says.
But for now, they hope their work makes people question themselves. “The meaning of art is to present reality from another point of view and make people think, ‘I see what they want to say, but I never thought about it this way.’ It’s about creating a new language,” Aniss says.
Stanislas Jasinski designed apartment blocks that still grace Uccle and Ixelles, but his real legacy lies in his far-sighted vision for modern urban dwelling. As architecture museum CIVA runs an exhibition on his plans, only some of which were realised, Frédéric Moreau remembers the modernist pioneer
In October 1958, amid the modernist fever of optimism at the culmination of the Brussels World Fair that year, the architect Stanislas Jasinski spoke at an exhibition on proposals to redevelop the city’s North Quarter. It took place at the newly opened International Rogier Centre in the square of the same name. The Urbanisation and Rebirth of a Neighbourhood event floated plans for a total rebuilding of the area, blighted by the demolition of its centrepiece, the ornate 19th century North Station, now replaced by the venue itself. At 57, Jasinski had reason to be satisfied by both the location and the content of the exhibition. They showed that others were fulfilling dreams he had held for Brussels for over three decades.
Facing the entrance to the Brussels central boulevard, the 29-storey tower of the Rogier Centre, was topped by a giant Martini ad hoarding that gave it its nickname. At 117 metres tall, this flagship of Belgian modernism in glass, concrete and aluminium took the place of the stone facade of the old station, rendered obsolete by the new rail link through the city. Inside the Martini Tower were restaurants, exhibition spaces, two theatres, a shopping centre in the plinth at ground level and a prestigious bar on the top floor, the Martini Terrace. Behind it, stretching 260 metres to the north were two blocks, one containing 151 luxury flats with terraces and the other offices.
Rogier was to be the anchor development in a 53-hectare urban renewal programme stretching as far west as the Brussels canal. Rebranded as the Manhattan Plan in the 1960s, it aimed to replace a dense grid of decaying 19th century low-income housing with dozens of towers set on plinths. Pedestrians were to pick their way between them on elevated walkways as motorways from Amsterdam and Paris converged beneath their feet at the “Crossroads of Europe”.
Not even half-completed, the scheme fell apart over agonising decades in a mire of corruption, mismanagement and failing economic cycles. Some 11,000 people lost their homes and by the beginning of the 21st century, the rebirth of the
North Quarter was seen as a massacre, a national disgrace and the worst excess of Brusselization. The remaining old buildings blighted the new ones and the new blighted the old. Poorly maintained and abandoned by residents, the Centre Rogier was tarred with the same brush and pulled down in 2002.
Jasinski didn’t design the Rogier Centre. It was the work of two younger Belgian architects, Jacques Cuisinier and Serge Lebrun. Embedded within its design and that of the Manhattan Plan however were concepts of urban renewal Jasinski had popularised in articles and projects stretching as far back as the 1920s.
In 2024, as a fresh rebirth for the North Quarter takes shape, CIVA, the Brussels region’s architecture museum is holding its first exhibition on the Jasinski. He is best known as a prolific builder of cosseted apartment blocks in greenfield locations in the outer suburbs. However, CIVA’s show, entitled ‘Stanislas Jasinski, The Modernisation of Brussels’, presents his unrealised designs for the city centre, concepts he never got to build but which, as at Rogier and in the Manhattan Plan, took on form in the work of others.
Jasinski’s designs are displayed alongside realised and unrealised projects by architects from Belgium and across the world. They anchor him within the context of a century-long global debate on how planners and architects should create cities amid the economic and technological evolutions in which they are both actor and spectator. A debate in which Jasinski took part over six decades and which, like his own career has been discredited by the spectre of Brusselization.
Jasinski had made his name from the 1920s onwards in articles calling for a tabula rasa in both the architecture and urbanism of Brussels. “As a rule, people are happier living in apartments,” he told the journal Bâtir in a 1936 interview entitled Detruire pour Créer (Destroy to Create). “In city-centre flats on the 14th or 15th floor...we will breathe clean air. We will reach them by express lift, we'll have hot water and ice on demand. We'll be able to have lunch
While he grudgingly accepted the need to preserve the tourist magnet of the Grand Place, the rest of the older fabric that “besmirches” the city had to go, including the then very recent “aesthetic experiments” of Art Nouveau.
While his proposed parade of towers next to the Bourse never happened, as so often in Brussels their design took hold in the collective imagination of developers and architects. Giant X-shaped structures replaced entire city blocks decades later in the forms of the Monnaie and Berlaymont buildings.
delivered in five minutes. Thanks to the obligatory terrace, we'll enjoy splendid panoramic views". Twenty years later, this was the experience of the first wealthy residents in the curvy residential ‘banana’ section of the Rogier complex, gazing over the Botanique gardens to the east and westward to sunsets behind the Basilica at Koekelberg.
The path to such airy, sunlit, healthy homes was explained by Jasinski in a series of articles at the turn of the 1930s where he set out his concept of Brussels as a living organism “whose life is regulated by the free play of the fluids.” The city was like, "an old tree trunk whose sap only nourishes the ends of its lower branches, while its new growth rots and dries out the centre." This rot included the architecture of the past: “We need to leave behind an urban decor, which has had its time”, to be replaced with designs based on “logic, rationalism and standardisation… [which] in no way rule out modern architectural beauty,” he wrote. While he grudgingly accepted the need to preserve the tourist magnet of the Grand Place, the rest of the older fabric that “besmirches” the city had to go, including the then very recent “aesthetic experiments” of Art Nouveau.
Mixing a fresh organic metaphor, the human body, with particular hobbyhorses of his, free-flowing traffic and towers, Jasinski prescribed "a bloodletting to ease congestion, new arteries, car parks, pedestrian walkways and increased population density in the centre, thanks to tall buildings on wide thoroughfares.” Step one, the “bloodletting”, was to be the transfer of low-income housing outside the city. Step two was to set aside the sticking plasters of one-way streets and parking bans and prepare the patient for “major surgery” to allow fast circulation of cars.
At the entrance to the CIVA exhibition is a vast
1932 photomontage to illustrate his proposal to flatten seven city blocks along a 500-metre stretch of the 19th century showpiece central boulevard in Brussels. Excising centuries of built heritage, including the baroque church of Notre-Dame de Bon Secours, the ‘improvement plan for Central Brussels’ replaced it with three gigantic X-shaped office towers to house Belgium’s civil service in an ‘administrative city’. An irrepressible petrolhead and self-publicist, Jasinski paraded this very same surgical plan around the city on top of his car.
While his proposed parade of towers next to the Bourse never happened, as so often in Brussels their design took hold in the collective imagination of developers and architects. Giant X-shaped structures replaced entire city blocks decades later in the forms of the Monnaie and Berlaymont buildings.
The walls of the exhibition itself are lined with further Jasinski designs. A stunning skyscraper set on a plinth from 1926 anticipates the towers and walkways of the Manhattan Plan. A 1936 study for a 30-storey tower on Avenue Louise could trick image recognition software into thinking it is the UP-site tower on the Brussels canal inaugurated in 2014. There is a 1972 plan for residential and office towers set upon a plinth covering a new metro station in Uccle, back when such a thing still seemed possible.
None of Jasinski’s designs appearing in the exhibition were built, however, and his many projects that were completed only appear in the accompanying book. This is an exhibition of the imagination and counterfactuals, of absences and partial presences. It focuses not on the originality of ideas but of their place within
an intellectual continuum of both provocation and pragmatism, stretching the boundaries of urban possibilities. Le Corbusier’s famous 1925 Plan Voisin project for replacing the historic right bank of Paris with a thicket of tower blocks is here, an obvious influence on Jasinski’s later riff on this for Brussels.
Such complexity explains why it has taken until 2024, 46 years after Jasinski’s death to produce a major exhibition on the man who was once “the rising star of Belgian modernist architecture,” the organisers say. The diversity of his activity (he was a furniture designer and real-estate developer as well as an urban theorist and architect) complicated the task, as did his lopsided catalogue. In the run-up to World War II, he designed or co-created arresting, tall avant-garde flats in the inner suburbs. His postwar output largely consisted of sprawling and tubby apartment complexes in former country estates in Uccle. But he remained an energetic commentator on the renewal of the urban core until the 1970s, when his name cropped up as the subject resurfaced again and again.
The exhibition is in part a rehabilitation of both Jasinski and, by extension, the messy postwar trajectory of the city, plastered with the catch-all Brusselization jibe. It’s true that he argued for the warehousing of the poor on the edge of a city, their homes making way for rapid car travel and that this happened to some extent. But he was also an early champion of dense, mixed-use urban blocks and an extensive metro network. And in terms of planning policy that’s where we are now, for better or, as some still argue, for worse.
The Rogier Centre embodied much of Jasinski’s vision for city centres. It probably wouldn't be demolished now, as such environmental wastefulness is frowned upon. With its mixed-use nature and modernist cool it could be a poster child for a car-free existence where shops, jobs, culture and human company are steps away. Terraces really are obligatory now and rooftop terrace bars are all the rage. In that sense at least, the Rogier vision survives and it could comfortably slot into this exhibition, as another counterfactual, another absence as well as an actual memory for some.
Perhaps we can detect steps towards the wider rehabilitation of the architecture of the offices and postwar apartments that ring Brussels. In aesthetic terms, not just those of the make-do-and-mend concerns of sustainability. Only eight buildings from the 1950s and 11 from the 1960s are protected in the Brussels region, compared to 65 from the 1920s and 43 from the 1930s. Either design quality dropped off a cliff after World War II or we are still growing into it. The growing number of listings for more recent buildings suggests the latter.
Public taste has always run a few steps
behind the bulldozers of speculative capitalism but exhibitions like this suggest it may be accelerating. Recent protections for the 1960 Banque Lambert (present at the Jasinski exhibition) and Royal Belge building of 1965 have been well received in the media and in the coming years attitudes to others may soften as they limp into octogenarian status. Respect the past, create the future has been the mantra of the Brussels government in recent years. Stanislas Jasinski scorned the former but as the exhibition demonstrates, he played his part in the latter, so we can respect that at least. And perhaps the next Jasinski expo will proudly show what he actually did build instead of leaving it in the pages of a book or hidden behind the leafy boughs and security gates of Uccle.
His postwar output largely consisted of sprawling and tubby apartment complexes in former country estates in Uccle. But he remained an energetic commentator on the renewal of the urban core.
In the first half of this year, travel orders from Chinese tourists to France increased by 147% year-onyear.
As the world is back on the fast track of growth from the shadow of the COVID-19 pandemic years, the rekindling of wanderlust is evident in the revival of travel between Europe and China.
This resurgence marks a significant milestone, not just for the tourism industry, but also for the enhancement of communication of people, cultural exchanges and economic ties, and in return redefines Europe-China relations in the long run.
The recent months have seen a new wave of tourists who are back to the marketplace and eager to explore the diverse landscapes and rich historic heritage that both China and Europe can offer. The pent-up demand is strong,
with travel agencies reporting a surge in bookings and interest for destinations across Europe and China.
Data by Trip.com, China’s largest and most commonly used OTA, shows that in the first half of this year, travel orders from Chinese tourists to France increased by 147% year-on-year, to Serbia by 105%, and to Hungary by 48%.
European countries have been quick to capitalize on this opportunity. Iconic destinations such as Paris, Rome, and Berlin are witnessing a notable increase of Chinese tourists, who are immensely drawn by local historic landmarks, world-class museums, and luxury shopping experiences.
In response, many European cities have ramped up efforts to cater their business mode to the taste of Chinese tourists by providing Mandarin-language services, enhancing alternative digital payment options such as Alipay and WeChat Pay, and promoting lesser-known yet equally captivating destinations to avoid overcrowding at traditional tourist attractions.
Likewise, Chinese cities are also experiencing a resurgence of European visitors searching for new experiences of China’s lifestyle, a unique blend of ancient traditions and cutting-edge innovation.
Typical tourist sites of heritage such as the Great Wall, the Forbidden City, and the Terracotta Warriors in the traditional tourist destination cities such as Beijing, Shanghai, and Xi’an are still on top of the choice list, while other features also enter the kaleidoscope of visitors such as the impressive new city skylines, busy nightlife, exuberant choices of food, and the innovative weaving of new digital technology into daily life. Additionally, China’s natural wonders, from the Karst Mountains in Guilin to the beautiful landscapes of Yunnan, provide European tourists with diverse experiences to indulge themselves in the beauty of nature.
This renewed mutual interest is driven by several factors, including the growing middle class in China with increased disposable income, Europeans’ enduring fascination with China’s cultural heritage and rapid modernization, as well as the recent visa-free policies offered by China.
Since early this year, China has implemented a visa-free policy and exempted holders of or-
dinary passports from 11 European countries from the time-consuming and costly visa application process, facilitating worry-free traveling for both business and leisure purposes. As a result, in France for example, as of 30 April, 74,000 people have traveled to China visa-free, accounting for 59.63% of the total number of French visitors to China.
In a further move, Chinese President Xi Jinping, during his first visit to Europe in nearly five years this May, announced the decision to extend visa exemption entry for short-term visitors to China from 12 countries, 11 of them in Europe, until the end of 2025. The extended policy enables travelers from France, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands, Spain, Switzerland, Ireland, Hungary, Austria, Belgium, and Luxembourg, to enter and stay in China visa-free for up to 15 days for business, tourism, family matters and for transit.
Shortly after this extension, China announced a 15-day visa-free stay in 13 coastal ports for cruise travelers. Visitors who travel as part of a tour group of at least two people organized by a Chinese travel agency and depart the country on the same cruise can enjoy this benefit. Looking ahead, China is determined to open up to the world and promote more frequent exchanges with other countries.
According to the Global Travel Report by World Travel Market in association with Tourism Economics, China is the country that will see a remarkable spending growth from the outbound travelers in the coming decade, with a forecast exceeding 400 billion U.S. dollars by 2033. An increasing number of households in China will enter the “travel club,” wherein household income is sufficient to afford discretionary spending on leisure travel. The “travel club” in China is expected to nearly double over the next 10 years. However, this represents only a small percentage of Chinese citizens (2.3%), highlighting huge potential for future growth. Nevertheless, the spending behaviors and preferences of Chinese travelers are evolving
towards a more mature outlook, prioritizing value for money and favoring tailor-made or individualized needs over mere low prices or conspicuous consumption.
Both Europe and China are navigating towards sustainable development and responsible tourism and face common challenges such as global uncertainties and over-tourism. As President Xi Jinping recently pointed out, the tourism sector has increasingly grown to be an emerging and strategic pillar industry that enhances people’s well-being and wish for happiness. The Chinese government has rolled out a series of policies and measures to promote smart, green and sustainable tourism. These core values and mandates for change coincide with the EU’s tourism transition pathway, particularly in the digital and green transition area. With shared challenges and vision, it is beneficial for both sides to exchange ideas, share good experiences and learn from each other. The potential for cooperation is huge.
In a significant stride towards fostering deeper tourism cooperation between China and Europe, the World Tourism Alliance, in collaboration with the European Travel Commission and the Hungarian Tourism Agency, is set to co-host the “EU-China Tourism Dialogue” in Budapest. Scheduled to take place from July 3 to 5, 2024, this important event aims to promote connectivity and sustainable development of tourism in Europe and China.
This travel resurgence is more than just a boon for the tourism industry. It also signifies a revival of people-to-people exchanges. Educational institutions, cultural organizations, and business entities are seizing the opportunity to strengthen partnerships and foster mutual understanding, fortifying the bridges between Europe and China and paving the way for more vibrant communication and connections for a global harmonious community.
As a Chinese who has been away from my motherland for nearly five years and misses so much its stunning landscapes, delicious food, and vibrant cultural life, I hope all visitors will fully immerse themselves in the atmosphere and have the most memorable adventures of their lifetime in China.
Author: ZHANG Kaige, Third Secretary, Culture & Tourism, Mission of China to the European Union
Since early this year, China has implemented a visa-free policy and exempted holders of ordinary passports from 11 European countries from the timeconsuming and costly visa application process.
One of the most picturesque cities in Belgium, Dinant sits under a dramatic, mountainous face and overlooks the Meuse River. Its trail of colourful saxophone sculptures pays homage to the instrument’s inventor who was born there. Angela Dansby reports on a weekend of sax and the citadel
Dinant’s most famous son, AntoineJoseph Sax, known as Adolphe Sax, was not just the inventor of the saxophone, but other many brass instruments, including the saxhorn and saxtuba.
Perched gloriously between a stunning sheer limestone rock face and the mighty Meuse river, Dinant can claim to be one of the most Instagram-friendly cities in Belgium. The site of battles down the ages, it is also the birthplace of Adolphe Sax, inventor of the saxophone. And it is a city that hosts adventure, with plenty of hiking and ziplines, as well as kayaking down the Meuse and Lesse tributary.
Nestled in between mountains, Dinant’s name comes from Celtic ‘divo nanto’, meaning sacred valley. It was prosperous and populous in the Middle Ages thanks to locally quarried stone and metalworks, particularly copper. Craftsmen were known as dinandiers and their metalworks dinanderie, which were sold all over Europe. Its thriving market earned it the name Cité des Copères (City of Horse Dealers).
Its glory days abruptly ended in 1466 when France’s Charles the Bald sacked the city, but Dinant was rebuilt by the then-Prince-Bishop of Liège, who created a citadel in 1530 (destroyed by the French two centuries later). By the 19th century, dinanderie fell out of fashion and the metal workshops switched to leather tanneries and playing card factories.
The city was attacked early during the First World War and a young Lieutenant Charles de Gaulle was wounded in the Battle of Dinant on August 15, 1914. German troops temporarily occupied the town, murdering around 5,000 civilians – making Dinant one of eight ‘Villes Martyr’ in Belgium.
Dinant’s most famous son, Antoine-Joseph Sax, known as Adolphe Sax, was not just the inventor of the saxophone, but other many brass instruments, including the sax -
horn and saxtuba. Although he is buried in Paris, where he patented the saxophone in 1846, he is immortalised throughout Dinant with a life-size statue, street named after him and trail of 34 brightly painted, giant saxophone sculptures representing various countries (maps of the trail are available from Explore Meuse at the foot of Charles de Gaulle Bridge). On Sundays in July and August, saxophone players parade in the streets.
La Maison de Monsieur Sax occupies more or less the house where the inventor was born. It is a free interpretive centre, open every day, presenting information about his life and contributions to music. Brass footsteps along Rue Adolphe Sax leading to the house commemorate famous saxophonists like John Coltrane and Charlie Parker along the way. The International Adolphe Sax Association runs projects locally and abroad, including one of the most prestigious saxophone competitions in the world.
Dinant is a magnet for outdoor exercisers and enthusiasts from hiking and biking to kayaking and rock climbing. Hiking and biking trails crisscross the area, such as Chemin des Planètes footpath from the base of the stunning Bayard Rocher rocky pillar to the top of a cliff where there is a planetarium and the long promenade between central Dinant and the Lesse River. The RAVel network of trails in Wallonia (ravel. wallonie.be) provides a long list of options. Along the Meuse near the stunning vertical shards of Bayard Rock, Bike Nautique rents kayaks and paddle bikes (think stationary bikes atop surfboards).
Further down where the Meuse connects to the Lesse next to an ancient Roman bridge is a larger kayak rental company called Dinant Évasion. This outdoor adventure firm also offers rock climbing, caving, mountain biking, outdoor paintball and a series of aerial challenges, such as crossing the longest rope bridge in Belgium.
For passive adventure, Évasion has a boat called Le Sax that tours the Meuse from April to September. Croisières Mosanes also has boat tours and both companies offer 45-minute and two-hour cruises that provide beautiful views of cliffs and architecture. Croisières Mosanes offers a combo ticket to see the Citadelle (citadel) and Évasion offers a three-hour cruise that stops at the Freÿr castle and gardens in the town Hastière (a stately castle with an interior decorated by 20 generations of residents).
Dinant Nautique rents electric boats by the hour for up to seven people. They are docked in front of the Collegiate Church.
Electric vespas are also available. Horseback riding in Dréhance village near Dinant can be done year-round except Tuesdays.
Every August 15, the Régate de Baignoires (Bathtub Regatta) attracts contestants and spectators with homemade ‘sailboats’ made with bathtubs. The amusing competition was started in 1982 by a local chef, Alberto Serpagli, who found and sold about 40 abandoned tubs to execute his idea. Today, about 50 bathtubs compete with unlimited riders who race a kilometre down the river.
South of Dinant are several natural wonders, including the Grotte La Merveilleuse cave in Philippeville, Les Aiguilles de Chaleux (Needle Rocks) in Houyet and Furfooz Nature Reserve and Park. The cave has many stalactites and stalagmites, including some in waterfall shapes. The Needle Rocks, thin mountains in unusual shapes, are near Furfooz, which also has a unique landscape with a series of caves, grottos, viewpoints and ruins.
North of Dinant are the Jardins d’Eau d’Annevoie (Annevoie Water Gardens) in the village of Annevoie, which feature Belgium’s only water gardens with dozens of waterfalls, fountains, ponds and pools. This is also the site of the annual Costumes of Venice in May, when people dress up in carnival outfits and parade in the gardens.
The Collegiate Church of Our Lady, distinctive with its Gothic bulbous bell tower, is like a virtual greeter to Dinant along the Meuse River. It blends in with surrounding cliffs and the citadel above it, which seems to protect it (that was not the case in 1227 when the then Romanesque church was almost destroyed by the collapse of a cliff). Inside the church is one of the largest stained-glass windows in Europe as well as a painting by celebrated Dinant painter and sculptor Antoine Wiertz.
Place Lion has a monument called ‘The Triumph of Light’ designed by Wiertz in 1862. Behind it is a white building with bright, colourful paintings in spaces for windows and a door. Nearby is a trail to walk up to the 20 th century Montfat Tower on a cliff. This tower was a German observation post in World War II, which was damaged by American liberators but restored after the war.
The stately Palais de Justice with a backdrop of mountains is worth strolling by along with the terracotta-coloured Hôtel de Ville which has another bulbous tower and pop-out windows on its façade. It dates to 1700 but was rebuilt like much of Dinant
in the 20 th century. On the other side, the town hall courtyard has the most exquisite saxophone sculpture of all made of glass.
Near the Conservatoire Adolphe Sax is a copper-coloured bandshell, where musicians often perform. Nearby, the tiny Impasse Couret has a handful of old houses and a view of a medieval gateway called Porte Saint-Servais.
The striking Maison du Patrimoine Médiéval Mosan (House of Medieval Heritage) explains the area’s history. A working jail, which looks like a heritage building, is nestled amidst greenery near the Grand Casino de Dinant. Across the Meuse River facing the citadel is the imposing College Notre-Dame de Bellevue.
Right out of a fairytale, the spectacular Château de Walzin in Dréhance, a sub-municipality of Dinant, is just 8km south. The Château de Vêves in Furfooz National Park and Château Royal d’Ardenne in Houyet, both 10-15km south of Dinant, are other
South of Dinant are several natural wonders, including the Grotte La Merveilleuse cave in Philippeville, Les Aiguilles de Chaleux (Needle Rocks) in Houyet and Furfooz Nature Reserve and Park.
beautiful castles. Even closer right off the highway is Château de Spontin, one of the few castles in Belgium that still has a drawbridge. Visits can be made upon request.
The current citadel, rebuilt in the early 1800s by the Dutch, dominates Dinant’s landscape atop a high cliff. It can be accessed by a staircase with 408 steps, cable car or car, offering beautiful views from the top. In 1914, French and German troops fought violent battles in and around the citadel, which makes it the perfect location for a military history museum.
The August 23, 1914 Memorial lies along the river on the other side of the citadel in honour of civilians massacred by German troops on that date. Inaugurated in 2014 on the centenary, the long, copper monument replaces one from 1936 in Place d'Armes, which was destroyed by German soldiers in 1940. The new memorial has a cap that mirrors the transept of the Collegiate Church in the background and its dimensions are symbolically 674, the number of civilian victims. On the same side of the Meuse, a sculpture of the late Charles de Gaulle, who was wounded in Dinant in 1914, is at the foot of the bridge dedicated to him.
Maison Leffe, housed in the chapel of the former Bethlehem Convent near the 1914 Memorial, includes an interactive beer museum, tour about the beer’s history, shop and tastings inside and out. A large lawn with beautiful views of the Meuse is a fantastic place to enjoy Leffe beers in the summer. Across the river and town is the
Notre-Dame Leffe Abbey, dating to 1152, which houses Norbertine canons, who offer guided tours. Local craft beers are Dinant and La Croisette de Dinant.
The couque de Dinant, a teeth-breaking hard cookie made of essentially flour and honey, is a local speciality. Bakeries advise not even attempting to bite it, but rather breaking it into small pieces to melt in the mouth like caramels. The couques from bakeries Maison Jacobs and V. Collard are the best known and sold in a variety of shapes from wild boars and grape bunches to of course, saxophones. The couque is rumoured to be adapted from a 15 th century recipe (perhaps soldiers then used it as a weapon!) and the dough was moulded in the dinaderie or brassware typical of the once-thriving metallurgy industry. A softer couque called Rins, developed by Dinant confectioner François Rins, who accidentally added sugar, can be eaten.
Another Dinant speciality is flamiche, a savoury tart made with Romedenne cheese, butter and eggs. It’s served warm with Burgundy wine, preferably Savigny. Supposedly created by a Romedenne farmer, Flamiche is honoured by the Confrérie Royale des Quarteniers de la Flamiche Dinantaise (C.Q.F.D.). Founded in 1956, this brotherhood aims to "promote the speciailties and charms of the Dinant region, as well as regional culinary traditions". A flamiche-eating contest is organised by the C.Q.F.D. the first Saturday in September during its Chapitre du Tournoi in St Nicholas neighbourhood.
Other local foods include Ardennes ham, wild boar and river trout. Such products can be purchased in Dinant every Saturday from 7am to 1pm at a farmer’s market along the Meuse River.
BeeTasty in the village Denée 18km from Dinant offers visits by appointment to learn about the life of bees and take part in honey harvesting April to September. Also in Denée, Maredsous Abbey, a benedictine monastery, has a microbrewery and beautiful grounds to enjoy beer, cheese and bread made on site. Guided tours of beer production are available Friday-Sunday. Nearby Warnant Snail Farm has educational visits by reservation.
Caracole Brasserie in Falmignoul 10km south of Dinant makes four artisanal beers, such as Saxo, the old-fashioned way with copper pots over a wood fire. Château Bon Baron, which makes some of Belgium’s best wines, offers tours and tastings by appointment in the village Sorinnes 10km east of Dinant. A little further away to the north, Château de Bioul makes wines from organic grapes in its 12-hectare vineyard and offers tours and tastings for individuals from April to September Thursday to Sunday.
The couque de Dinant, a teeth-breaking hard cookie made of essentially flour and honey, is a local speciality. Bakeries advise not even attempting to bite it, but rather breaking it into small pieces to melt in the mouth like caramels.
Dinant Jazz Festival: Brings international talent to a stage in the town centre the last weekend of July
Régate de Baignoires (Regatta of Bathtubs): Every August 15, attracts international contestants and spectators, lesbaignoires.be
International Adolphe Sax Competition: Every four years in November, one of the most prestigious saxophone competitions in the world in which hundreds of talented young musicians perform, including finalists in Collegiate Church
Montmartre: An outdoor art exhibition with more than 120 local artists at the end of September
Chapitre du Tournoi: A flamiche-eating contest organized by the Royal Brotherhood of Dinant Flamiches the last Saturday of September
Le Bouboule: Known for mussels, a casual seafood-oriented restaurant with indoor-outdoor seating, including a riverside terrace
La Broche: An elegant, Michelin-recommended restaurant with fixed menus and wonderful desserts
Le Confessional: Next to the Leffe Abbey, offers French cuisine with “Dinant terroir” and seasonal produce in a family-friendly setting
Le Jardin de Fiorine: A garden restaurant featuring French cuisine with local flavours and a terrace overlooking the Meuse
Le Table d’Antonio: Away from the tourist area along the river, offers local cuisine with fresh seasonal produce
Le Trois x15: Near the train station, features Belgian cuisine in a stone house with a terrace
Le Capsule: A Belgian beer pub with indoor and outdoor seating near the Charles de Gaulle Bridge
Le Cerf Vert: Near the riverside, a pub offering Dinant flamiche and couques as well as local tapas, artisanal lasagnes, quiches and soups
Maison Leffe: A backyard bar featuring Leffe beers and views over the Meuse River
Le Wiertz: A café restaurant offering Belgian cuisine without reservations Pub St. Roch: A beer bar with a terrace and sometimes live music
Les 3 Chapeaux: Offers two cottages for 2-4 guests in central Dinant near the river, including equipped kitchens and a backyard
Ibis Dinant Centre: The only hotel along the riverfront in Dinant, a modest but clean threestar option that’s very well located, including a terrace overlooking the river
La Garconniere de Wiertz: A fully equipped, stylish one-bedroom apartment
Au Coeur de Dinant: A modern, luxury apartment with town views, a fireplace and inner courtyard that’s non-smoking with two bedrooms plus an equipped kitchen
Hotel La Merveilleuse by Infiniti Resorts: Incorporated into the Maison Leffe, a modern, luxury hotel with beautiful views atop a hill
A c’t’Heure Dinant!: Featuring artisanal Belgian food products, namely beers
Au Village Gourmand: Next door to the above shop, features Belgian spirits and beers
Explore Meuse: Sells local products like couques and candies
L’Empreinte Belge: Features made in Belgium items from decorations and books to accessories, skincare and food
Vergers et Ruchers Mosans: Offers products from a local orchard and beehive
Tram 9 currently takes travellers across the northwest of the Brussels region: the Simonis metro junction and the King Baudouin stadium, via UZ Brussels University Hospital. From July, it also cannibalises part of tram 19 and takes them from Simonis to Groot-Bijgaarden. Hugh Dow rides the once-and-future tramline
I had low expectations for interior decoration left over from the 1930s. But one forgets that one is dealing with a painter, a colourist, a man with an eye. Furniture and decor are very much of their time and the domestic rooms are a harmonious delight.
The incoming metro at the interconnected Simonis and Elisabeth stations meets tram 9 waiting upstairs. Without needing to surface, you rise to the orthogonal tram stop above, but still below ground. One platform, two buffers, incoming and outgoing trams, all is bright and white-tiled.
The north and west of Brussels, it has always seemed to me, have a slightly different feel to the south and east. Not easy to put your finger on, to be sure, but it has to do with the latter’s monopoly of international and national bureaucracies, the European Union, NATO, the Belgian and regional governments et al confine themselves to central and southeast. The west, on the other hand, feels more like – am I skating on thin ice here? – a provincial Belgian town. Middle class, multicultural, un-graffitied, tidy, green and blessed with unpretentious restaurants a goodly 20% cheaper than their equivalent on the other side of the tracks.
Back to tram 9, which emerges from underground onto the Avenue du Jette/Jetteselaan. At the first tram stop, Broustin, it is a short walk to the Magritte Museum.
This is not the Magritte Museum in which a large collection of his paintings are housed in the centre of town. This is a small private museum located in the great man’s house in Jette where he resided from 1925 to 1952, before moving up in the world to Rue Mimosastraat in Schaerbeek.
Visitors at 135 Rue Esseghemstraat will be relieved of a small sum of money and left to wander, often quite alone, among artefacts from Magritte’s estate. These include copies of original paintings which have now been lost and destroyed, examples of his advertising work, letters, scribblings, and family
snaps. The blinds were down and the curtains severely drawn on the sunny day I visited. This, I assume, was to better protect the exhibits from fading; but it did involve me squinting somewhat at the typed explanations.
Having said that there was one glorious takeaway. I had low expectations for interior decoration left over from the 1930s. But one forgets that one is dealing with a painter, a colourist, a man with an eye. Furniture and decor are very much of their time and the domestic rooms are a harmonious delight. The furniture was returned by the estate to the museum when Georgette, having outlived René by 20 years, died in 1986. A chat with the curator reveals that the museum is largely supported by the commune, that the house itself is in private hands, and that a goodly portion of its 6,000 or so visitors a year are from the United States where Magritte is revered. The museum is not going to captivate a bored teenager, perhaps, but it is a discrete and charming homage to a great Belgian and a modest man.
Next to stop Mirroir/Spiegel there is a large church, St Mary Magdalene, at the end of a larger square, Place Reine Astrid. I confess to an increasing affection for Brussels’ plethora of neo-Gothic suburban places of worship. Built in some number as the still pious population of the city increased in the late 19th and early 20th century, they replaced smaller redbrick chapels. They lack perhaps the soaring majesty of the great medieval cathedrals dotted around Europe. But they are not without merit. Affecting pointy-topped windows, columns with state-of-the-art metallic bits hidden with plaster masquerading as stone, and often scattered about with fussy decorationI speak from a Scottish presbyterian perspective - which then gets lost somewhat beneath the soaring roofs, they have their own Victorian integrity. Their height reflects, if not shares, the medieval belief that the higher you build the nearer you are to God.
One such is the St Mary Magdalene. Various side buildings offer a Christian haven for the homeless and impoverished. Translating from the Dutch: “A cup of coffee or tea, a bowl of soup, a chat, a game of ping pong, the use of our computer, or just a lie-down. Be welcome.” And in the church, built in 1905, the interior is offered to those whose homes are unsuitable for study: chaotic family, noisy stairwell? That seems to me an excellent use of an otherwise underemployed, quiet, heated space!
Opposite the church is Place Reine Astrid. Named after a long-ago tavern of ill-repute for the youth of Jette and Molenbeek it is, I’m guessing, 20 metres by 120, and, it is fair to
say, that there is not much you can’t purchase in its emporia.
Five cafes (at least), one sushi bar, two pretty spiffing patisseries, a pharmacy, a supermarket, not one, not two, but three phone shops, one of those new, go-to frituurs like the better-known mecca in Place Jourdanplein, a merry-go-round, a travel agent (rare as hen’s teeth these days), a couple of market stalls selling veggies, a paper shop (likewise hard to find), another of those suddenly ubiquitous O’Tacos, a wine bar, an expensive jewellery store, a supermarket, a fancy hair salon with a sullen Twiggy emblazoned in the window, a sophisticated-looking wine bar and - most mysterious of all - a Moroccan restaurant called O’Tweat! Whether the name was chosen to ride on the coattails of the neighbouring O’Tacos’ higher profile or to attract Irish visitors eager for a mutton stew and cabbage tagine, is hard to tell. And as if that were not enough the square has a full-blown market every Sunday creating bewilderingly un-followable traffic deviations! There is a truly excellent Vietnamese restaurant right opposite the church which was going like a dingbat the Sunday lunchtime I dropped in for a quick pho.
Along tram 9’s journey northwest towards Roi/Koning Baudouin on the left-hand side, “in the direction of travel” as the tram announcements have it, at stop Square du Centenaire/Eeuwfeestsquare, peeping over the trees and houses, is the Koekelberg Basilica. One should not be too surprised at the basilica’s visibility over much of the journey. It is ranked the fifth biggest church in the world after Notre Dame de la Paix in the Ivory Coast, St Peter’s in Rome, St Paul’s in London and Santa Maria del Fiori in Florence. It was 65 years in construction; not least because the style got switched from neo-Gothic to the more vernacular and up-to-date Art Deco. However, 65 years is but a blink of an eye compared to the great medieval Gothic cathedrals and the interminable shenanigans of Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia in Barcelona.
The tram now rattles down the hill to stop just prior to a 19th century railway bridge at Exposition/Tentoonstelling. To the right is the King Baudouin Park ‘Phase 2’. I recall reading a Bill Bryson travelogue in which he was somewhat sniffy about the lack of green space in Brussels. Residents, I dare say, may beg to differ! And certainly this, to a degree, featureless side of Brussels is quite astonishingly green. An agreeable stroll around this part of King Baudouin Park, with its pond neatly bordered by aquatic plants to encourage bird- and insect-life, did not hint at the clever linking up of the original part of the park, Poelbos, Dieleghem, and Laerbeek
into one 6km green corridor along the Molenbeek Valley.
After a steep incline to Ancienne Barriere/ Oude Afspanning which need not detain unless one has a strong urge to buy a Mercedes or a motorbike, the tram then stops at UZ Brussels University Hospital, one of Brussels’ large teaching hospitals and closely associated with the Vrij Universiteit Brussel (VUB).
In linguistically fraught Brussels, it claims Dutch as its working language while hastening to reassure all that the care is multilingual. To a degree the hospital looks to the Flemish hinterland, which starts a couple of hundred metres away on the other side of the ring road, as its market. Its website is impeccably clear that care is “patient centred”. Built in 1977 it has acquired itself a global reputation for IVF treatment. It makes the point that in its early days, such treatment was considered immoral by some in Belgium, but UZ forged ahead anyway. It did, however, cause a bit of a stooshie a couple of years ago when it refused care to a heavily pregnant woman, an uninsured asylum seeker, unless she produced €2,000 in cash. The hospital later apologised, the employee concerned was “sanctioned”, and the woman was cared for elsewhere.
The hospital claims to keep its costs as low as possible without endangering care. It has about 4,000 employees and 700 beds, admits some 30,000 people a year and treats as many out-patients. Its A&E is considered the largest “in Flanders”. Its car park alone, visible from the tram, is pretty darn impressive.
By the time the tram reaches Arbre Ballon/ Dikke Beuk Brussels is opening out slightly and the steady B-flat hum of the ring road is audible in the distance. There are the Laerbeek Woods which spread over both sides of
Opposite the church is Place Reine Astrid.
Named after a long-ago tavern of ill-repute for the youth of Jette and Molenbeek it is, I’m guessing, 20 metres by 120, and, it is fair to say, that there is not much you can’t purchase in its emporia.
An agreeable stroll around this part of King Baudouin Park, with its pond neatly bordered by aquatic plants to encourage bird- and insectlife, did not hint at the clever linking up of the original part of the park, Poelbos, Dieleghem, and Laerbeek into one 6km green corridor along the Molenbeek Valley.
the motorway and cover, I estimate, some four square kilometres. Access near the tram stop is not that easy as the paths climb up the muddy and slippery slope into the dense trees. A stern notice forbidding dumping is, sad to relate, surrounded by ordure. However once up and into the woodland one could imagine one far enough from civilisation. Only by close study of the map later did I realise that upon entering the woods I had crossed Belgium’s invisible fault line and was now officially in Flanders. Which is presumably why the land was never built upon.
The tram is now approaching its destination. It wanders through a district which must have Corbusier’s purring in his grave: a quartier of massive flats, greenery and rather elegant landscaping is bordered by the ring road to the north and the Arbre Ballon/Dikke Beuk to the south. Punctuated by an ultra-modern high-design supermarket with 7/7 emblazoned in trendy mat-black letters three metres high the whole area feels likedeep breath - Singapore! Ok, ok, it’s not hot and steamy, nor is it as flat as a pancake, nor do palm trees sway but something about its well-organised, white, clean-looking, highrise flats surrounded by greenery, gardens, pathways and copses recalls the City State. Of course, Brussels and Belgium do not have
Singapore’s ruthless efficiency. But somehow, with all Belgium’s political complexities, the Jette and Brussels city elders have contrived to fashion something agreeable and aesthetically pleasing at about 11 o’clock on the city’s clock face. And that over the last 30 years or so. Which strikes me as wholly commendable.
It now veers towards Heysel/Heizel, with a stop in front of the King Baudouin Stadium (Stade/Stadion), with its terminus a little bit further along Avenue Houba de Strooper (Roi Baudouin/Koning Boudewijn). This effectively makes the tram 9 another route for Rolling Stones and Red Devil devotees to make it back into town.
I could have, had I wished, hopped off the tram and returned to Elizabeth/Simonis and on into town by metro. But travelling by tram is less bumpy than by bus, less stygian than by metro, and less dementing than by car.
My eagle-eyed editor had noticed that from July, tram 9 is to continue its journey beyond Simonis, past the vast Basilica, and on to the little Flemish village of Groot-Bijgaarden to the west. This is currently being served by tram 19. Would I care to take a look at the incipient extension? I would!
Perversely I opted to walk the first two stops up the handsomely wooded Elizabeth Park, which leads to it from the tram’s departure point, the Simonis tram stop. This felt vaguely like the iconic final scene in The Third Man: the grit pathway, the tall trees, the distant sounds of the city, the looming religiosity, and, awaiting me, a gardener leaning against his jeep, missing only Trevor Howard’s iconic duffel coat and beret!
The steps up to the three-metre-high main door of the church were weed-infested and the doors clearly unused. I set off clockwise around the clunky building the size of an aircraft carrier – “never walk widdershins around a church” – and found a way in. I entered and, I do not exaggerate, I gasped.
The size is more impressive inside than out, of course. But it is so much more than that. The delicacy on such a scale, if that’s not a contradiction, the sublime staircases, the multiple shades of caramel, the silence (the other 15 or so visitors could be on another planet), the stained-glass windows, the highly polished wood, and, dear God, the potential heating bills all amazed. It is fair to say that the building stands up to the great gothic cathedrals, Milan, Cologne, Canterbury and Rome, but with a lightness of touch which the other estimable super-churches could never aspire to.
The basilica boasts two museums and a restaurant (only in Belgium!). One of the mu-
seums was open - Modern Religious Art - and I resolved to see it after taking in the 52-metre-high viewing gallery with, it is said, a superb vista over central Brussels. I shelved out €8 for the lift, soared aloft, and stepped outside. Big mistake!
Vertigo hit me like an express train. I stepped hastily back inside. The lift, plexiglass see-though, was no longer an option. I slid down the three flights of stairs on my seat keeping as far from the bannisters as I could. I exited sweating and palpitating and threw myself onto good solid earth, to the alarm of two kindly Midwesterners on vacation. They called upon their God to bless me and, once they were assured that I was not injured, were on their way. I lay on the grass and waited for my heartbeat to drop below lethality. As I did so I wondered vaguely at the 60 or so cars parked in the church car park. Was the local curia grafting industriously in hidden-away offices secreted about the 150,000 or so cubic metres of vastness? I was in no mood to find out!
I rejoin the soon-to-be tram 9 at stop Boissaert-Basilique as it plunges down Avenue Josse Goffin. This is a classic Brussels turnof-the-century street with four-story-high townhouses, doors direct onto the street and a slightly dusty air. Looking for excitement I notice a building with UNESCO emblazoned upon it. I alight. I walk through the gates. Security there is none. I gaze at the unremarkable building, wonder at its purpose, ponder my next move and notice two pretty teenagers chatting in Dutch on my right. On my left is a middle-aged woman giving me the evil eye. I realise I am in a school precinct which, you will allow, is no place for an elderly gentleman with time on his hands at 11am. I curse my stupidity, retreat, and curse it again as I notice the stop where I alighted, and am now boarding, is called College Sacre Coeur/ Heelig Hart!
The tram then switchbacks up to the large Place Schweitzer, handsomely bedecked with flowers, and then heads downhill to Groot-Bijgaarden. The houses are early 1930s and now have tiny front gardens. At the bottom of the long hill is a roundabout and the tram stop Hunderenveld. Still just inside Brussels the variety of transport choices here is bewildering. Apart from the humble tram, and in rising levels of exoticness, you have nearby the 87 bus, De Lijn Flanders busses heading for points east, Groot-Bijgaarden railway station, Brussel Kart go-carting track and brasserie, and - yes - a functioning helipad. All an easy spitting distance away.
As the tram comes to a halt at the industrial suburbs, alongside the aforementioned railway station, the one mode of transport
still missing is a shuttle bus to the beautiful, green, historical part of Groot-Bijgaarden the other side of the ring road. There, a clutch of fine restaurants – the type that establishment British journalists, in their feverish, anti-EU mode and with an unerring eye for a cliché, would describe as “Brussels’ groaning tables” – surround the elegant 12th century castle. The tram driver (known in the past in Belgium as a wattman) nods permission for me to stay on board as she swaps ends and I head for home.
What is more Belgian than beer and biking? Jon Eldridge combines them on a cycling route from Westmalle to Westvleteren, with a few pleasant pitstops along the way
Of the 170 Trappist monasteries in the world, just 11 still brew beer, and of those, Belgium boasts five. Why not, I thought, arrange a bike ride between Westmalle and Westvleteren, the two remaining Trappist breweries in Flanders?
This was more complicated than you might imagine. The two monasteries are a hefty 172km apart, but no-one wants to take the ugly direct route along a busy highway. And since my companions and I all live in Brussels, it is already some endeavour to reach the start of the route.
But we made it. And here is how you too can cross the country the scenic way, combining the nation’s two great loves: beer and bicycles.
Taking their name from La Trappe Abbey in northwest France, the first Trappists followed austere reforms to the Cistercian order, including a meagre diet. Our Trappist bike tour, on the other hand, will structure the first day around a hearty lunch in Lier. But first, coffee as we depart on the morning of the first truly warm weekend of the year.
After a bumble around the roadworks at Vilvoorde, we find the path along the Zenne (Senne) river that we follow past Zemst to Mechelen. The Zenne, a once notoriously polluted river that was famously built over in central Brussels in the 19th Century, appears in better shape these days and feeds into the Dyle north of Mechelen.
With its large market square adjacent to the UNESCO World Heritage tower of St Rumbold's Cathedral, Mechelen would have been a great place for an elevenses break. However, as we’re a bit behind schedule, we pose for a few photos and continue north through the attractive Tivolipark to Fort Walem, which was built 150 years ago to protect the old main road between Antwerp and Mechelen. In 1914, Belgian troops inside the trapezoidal structure held off a German at-
tack for five days. Nowadays, the crumbling fort is home to bats.
Our route now takes us along an appealing stretch of the Nete river, with canals and artificial lakes on both sides, through to Duffel – a small town that gave its name to a heavy woollen cloth from which the English made a coat for Paddington bear (or something like that). By lunchtime, our second World Heritage site, the beguinage of Lier, reassuringly appears on the horizon.
Like many well-heeled Flemish market towns, Lier is overlooked for Bruges, and thankfully so. But it nevertheless attracts a good share of visitors, and you’re best advised to book in peak periods if you want to be sure of a good dining spot on a terrace. Zuster Agnes, appropriately just up from the beguinage, is recommended, especially its hemelse rijstpap (heavenly rice pudding – though to be fair, it’s self-proclaimed heavenly).
This last leg of the route takes us past a second fort built to protect Antwerp as a redoubt a century-and-a-half ago. Fort Oelegem formed part of a belt of forts and is now, too, home mostly to bats. And so, with echolocation-like navigational ease – or the wonders of the Fietsknoop app, which helps you plot a route along the vast network of cycle paths crisscrossing the country – our brakes screech to a halt at the imposing Westmalle Abbey.
The second-largest Trappist brewer after Chimay, the closed-off, high-walled construction looks less like a house of prayer and more like a house of beer, but it is surrounded by a pleasant moat and adjacent pathways. To sample the brews, you’ll need to cross the nearby road to the Café Trappisten Westmalle, which offers a comprehensive brasserie-type menu as well as a taster option of all three types of beer: the Dubbel, a brown beer (7%); the Tripel, a strong pale beer (9.5%); and the lesser-known Extra, a weaker offering at a mere 4.8%. The derivation of the Tripel designation is uncertain, although it is generally considered an indication of the strength of the beer and was first used by Westmalle in 1956, setting a trend for other Belgian breweries.
Our route now takes us along an appealing stretch of the Nete river, with canals and artificial lakes on both sides, through to Duffel – a small town that gave its name to a heavy woollen cloth from which the English made a coat for Paddington bear.
Although diligently following the bike node points, our navigational team has failed to anticipate the lack of a bridge, and the required ferry has just paused for lunch.
The nearby small town of Malle boasts a couple of hotels, including the pristinely renovated De Kasteelhoeve, and a few dubious, neon-lit nightlife propositions aimed squarely at the surprising number of restless youths kicking about. Even more unexpected, we find a bar, Den Berg, with two full-sized snooker tables. Paying our respects to Flemish world champion Luca Brecel, we pop inside.
Conscious of the extra distance to be covered, we’re up and rolling by 8.30am, and already a little saddle sore. The route through the leafy suburbs of Antwerp, however, is a mild comfort. For several long stretches, we pass mansion after mansion, which brings to mind my overriding apology for cycling: it’s one of the best ways to see a country – its contrasts and its communities. These verdant paths are all very idyllic, but now please give me a gloomy graveyard. No such
luck, but we do soon run up against our first major obstacle: the Scheldt river.
Although diligently following the bike node points, our navigational team has failed to anticipate the lack of a bridge, and the required ferry has just paused for lunch. Stranded riverside with no refreshments within easy reach, we stew under the midday sun. Sint Niklaas is still a good 25km away and it is a blessed relief when we finally rock up on its main square – apparently the largest in Belgium – for a late lunch, knowing we’ve broken the back of this day’s ride.
The large space, which is lined by traffic, plays host to a range of events, and we’ve arrived on day two of the Internationaal Vendeltreffen, a festival of waistcoat-wearing and banner tossing. It’s a colourful spectacle that purports to celebrate culture, tradition and international friendship.
After lunch, we make a strategic decision to ditch the Fietsknoop app, take the direct route to Ghent via Lokeren and grab a tea-time beer at Destelbergen. Ghent offers large churches, canals, gable-roofed marvels and even a castle, but mostly it offers a shower in a hostel on the Graslei. In an effort to pull my weight in the trip’s organisation, I’ve booked a table at a mostly vegetarian restaurant, Epiphany’s Kitchen, which turns out to be quite a treat. I doubt that the ‘epiphany’ experience will turn my companions away from meat, but certainly the Princess Jasmine pizza, whose toppings include falafel, tahini, hummus and cucumber, is a big hit.
Padded seats and padded pants don’t seem to salve the saddle soreness of some of the troop, and it is with a grimace that the third day’s biking grinds into gear. However, the morning offers some of the most picturesque cycling of the trip. Our route follows the gently flowing Leie (Lys) river past some highly desirable riverside properties and includes a crossing. We indeed pay the ferryman, a cheerful fellow with a long punt who tells us he’s taking a break from his modelling job (presumably in the same way that we’re taking a break from the Tour de France).
The afternoon is a little more sobering as we will pass by the Tyne Cot Commonwealth War Graves Cemetery, which is around 9km northeast of Ypres. The cemetery’s name is believed to have been coined by the Northumberland Fusiliers, who saw similarities between the German pillboxes on the site and typical Tyneside workers' cottages. Very little today reminds one of the carnage that took place over a century ago, except row upon row of white tombstones.
There is more solemnity as we arrive in
OSSEGHEM PARK - BRUSSELS
MASEGO · TYLA · SIR
JESSE ROYAL · JULIAN MARLEY
GHETTS · MERYL · DISIZ · DIKKE
MUSA KEYS · MONONEON
BURUNTUMA · KABOLA· SWING
GOLDEN ZEBORA · HULK VAN JMF
ABA SHANTI MEETS JAH OBSERVER
METTA FREQUENCIES FT. ANTHONY JOHN
BLAQBONEZ · NINETTE · SUMAC DUB
VHOOR · ALPHA STEPPA & AWA FALL
IMPERIAL SOUND ARMY · BOLINGO
REGGAEBUS SOUNDSYSTEM
ACTION BRONSON · BIGA*RANX
BRIHANG · ODUMODUBLVCK · LILA IKÉ
CRISTALE · FERRE GOLA · BAD GYAL
COMPOTA DE MANANA · MORGAN
NUBYA GARCIA · AUNTY RAYZOR
STEEL PULSE · MOONSHINE · JAEL
ROOTS EXPLOSION · SKYLA TYLAA
TUKAN · ISEO & DODOSOUND
MARTHA DA’RO · FUTURE NOSTALGIA
REGGAEBUS SOUNDSYSTEM
TETRA HYDRO K · RAQL B2B BO MENG
MAFIA & FLUXY
MEETS MEGUMI MESAKU
AND MANY MORE...
TEMS · STIKSTOF · JPEGMAFIA
SHO MADJOZI· FATOUMATA DIAWARA
ROMAIN VIRGO · SIDIKI DIABATÉ · JAH LIL
CHARLOTTE ADIGÉRY & BOLIS PUPUL
NIVEAU4 · LORD APEX · BUSY SIGNAL
AUSTIN MILLZ · FULU MIZIKI KOLEKTIV
JAEL · BIBI SECK · TELLY* · PAULA TAPE
NUBIYAN TWIST · STACE · CHEB RUNNER
O.B.F X IRATION STEPPAS (LIVE DUB SHOW)
REGGAEBUS SOUNDSYSTEM · 21AM
UNLISTED FANATIC PRESENTS THE UFO COLLECTIVE
SANGA MAMA AFRICA FT. BLACK OMOLO
Vleteren is now less than 20km away and the prospect of a liquid lunch of Belgium’s most-fabled Trappist beer, Westvleteren, is enough to get our weary legs rotating for one final day.
Ypres in time to witness the Last Post at the Menin Gate, the first memorial to the missing, presumed killed on the Ypres Salient in World War I. The brief ceremony is held every day at 8pm and features a range of commemorative readings and hymn singing, along with a lone bugler playing the Last Post.
Vleteren is now less than 20km away and the prospect of a liquid lunch of Belgium’s most-fabled Trappist beer, Westvleteren, is enough to get our weary legs rotating for one final day. We reach our destination around the mid-morning coffee breaktime, although
we decide, correctly, to move straight to the promised tipple. At over 300km in just over three day’s peddling, it’s well deserved.
The St Sixtus Abbey, Westvleteren, is more secluded than its counterpart in Westmalle, but an attractive visitor centre lies directly opposite its main entrance. It’s here on the sunny terrace of the brasserie that we dutifully sample all three types individually (no taster menu is available): the relatively light, Blonde (5.8%); the 8 (8%); and the 12, which is actually 10.2% and frequently ranked as the best beer in the world. As someone who thinks that the finest beer is the one he’s about to drink, I’ll withhold my judgement.
Limited availability might play a role in its mystique, as customers are restricted to purchases of two crates of 24 bottles for onsite pick-ups and one for home deliveries, each with specific collection times listed on the brewery’s website. Visitors can also pick up a couple of gift sets of six bottles at the centre’s shop (though best get there early while supplies last), along with a range of typical merch. Been there, bought the t-shirt, spilt beer over it? Unlikely: the Westvleteren 12 retails at €52 per crate with a returnable deposit of €20 for the bottles.
The monastery, which dates back to 1831, has only been selling beer to the public since 1931. It has, however, been selling beer to us for several hours now, and yes, we do have homes to go to. A couple of us plan to head to the coast and then take the tram from Nieuwpoort to Ostend. It proves to be a leg too far. Battered by coastal winds, we discover with relief that trains run directly from Veurne to Brussels. Nevertheless, the winning formula has been proven: two Trappist abbeys on two wheels make for a fun four-day weekend.
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In 1990, Charles Leclef inherited Brouwerij Het Anker in a state of disrepair and on the verge of bankruptcy. Since then, he has transformed its fortunes through hard work, political connections, and a focus on community. Breandán Kearney reports from Mechelen
The city’s inhabitants tried to keep the event a secret, but soon Brusseliers and Antwerpenaars found out what had happened and ridiculed the Mechelaars for their drunken stupidity. They called inhabitants of Mechelen the maneblussers, or moon extinguishers, a slight which, 337 years later, is still used as a nickname for Mechelaars.
It is said that on the night of January 27 1687, a man under the influence of several beers stepped out of a café in Mechelen. Looking up, the man saw yellow-reddish lights and smoke emanating from the top of the city’s cathedral, Saint Rumbold’s. The man alarmed the neighbours and the city council was called in haste, organising an effort to extinguish the blaze above them. Buckets of water were passed hand to hand by Mechelaars in one long chain up the tower stairs as they frantically tried to douse the flames.
But at the top, there was no fire. What they thought had been smoke was the backlit haze of a full moon’s yellow-reddish glow shining brightly behind low clouds. It was all a terrible mistake. In the following days, the city’s inhabitants tried to keep the event a secret, but soon Brusseliers and Antwerpenaars found out what had happened and ridiculed the Mechelaars for their drunken stupidity. They called inhabitants of Mechelen the maneblussers, or moon extinguishers, a slight which, 337 years later, is still used as a nickname for Mechelaars.
Charles Leclef is a maneblusser. He is tall, moderately built, and dresses smart casual –jeans, shirt, and jacket – sporting a mop of floppy dusty blond hair, and a relaxed, disarming demeanour. He was born and bred in Mechelen, and grew up on the grounds of his Uncle’s brewery, Het Anker, on the city’s Guido Gezellelaan. There had been other breweries in Mechelen – once as many as 30 - but by the early 1980s, even a large brewing company such as Brouwerij Lamot (once a lager behemoth) had been picked off by ambitious giants Bass and Piedboeuf, with production moved away from the city in 1994. Het Anker was soon the last remain-
ing brewery in Mechelen.
When Leclef was a child, Het Anker’s Belgian Dark Ale, Gouden Carolus, was one of the most respected specialty beers in Belgium. Leclef’s grandfather Charles Van Breedam had named the brand after Emperor Charles V who ruled Europe from Mechelen in the 1500s (it was also the name of the golden coins the Emperor designated as currency in the city). But Leclef’s grandfather Charles Van Breedam died unexpectedly, at the age of 62. His successor was Leclef’s uncle Michel Van Breedam, who despite being a competent brewmaster, did not possess strong management skills. The brewery fell into disrepair. The beers suffered, as did the reputation of the brewery.
Mechelen was once the seat of European power in the Middle Ages, with rich histories of tapestry and lace, wood carving and sculpture, and the carillon musical instrument. It boasted fabulous architecture – there are more listed buildings per square metre in Mechelen than in Bruges. But Mechelen itself was in poor health at the time when Michel Van Breedam owned Het Anker. The city had numerous negative records such as the dirtiest city in Belgium and the city with the highest crime rate. One international organisation wrote that it was a “blot” on the Belgian landscape.
In 1990, when Leclef was just 24 years old, his uncle Michel Van Breedam stood down from running Brouwerij Het Anker. Van Breedam’s children – Leclef’s cousins – had no desire to take the brewery on, mostly because they wanted to pursue careers in other industries, but also because the brewery was rundown and worn-out, in financial ruin, and on the verge of filing for bankruptcy. Sources at Het Anker describe the brewery at that time as being “clinically dead”. The Belgian broadsheet newspaper De Tijd wrote that the site of the brewery was “een kankervlek in de stad”: “a cancer stain on the city.”
The family toyed with the idea of asking an outsider to buy the brewery. Leclef was con-
cerned. “But then the soul would be away,” he says. In 1990, after completing studies in Applied Economic Science at KU Leuven, Leclef took over simply because no-one else in the family would, becoming the fifth generation of the Van Breedam-Leclef family to lead Brouwerij Het Anker.
If Leclef failed to save the brewery, it would mean an end to 118 years of family heritage. Most importantly, it would be a kick in the gut to all those city inhabitants who had worked at, partnered with, and supported Het Anker across Mechelen. Their pride was on the line. And the maneblussers were tired of being a laughing stock.
When Leclef took over Het Anker in 1990, he inherited its history. In the 1400s, a semi-monastic community of religious women – the Mechelen Beguinage – brewed beer on the site to comfort the sick and dying who were in their care. When they eventually vacated the buildings in 1865, it was taken into the ownership of Louis Van Breedam (Van Breedam was the surname of Leclef’s mother). The name of the brewery translates literally as The Anchor and there are several stories about the name’s provenance. One is that it is a maritime reference to the Antwerp sea port. Another is that it comes from the Dutch verb ‘verankeren’, meaning to firmly secure in position or provide a basis or foundation. Most likely, it was as a mark of respect to the famous Mechelen maltster and brewer of the 1300s, Jan In Den Anker.
Leclef also inherited the catastrophic problems of the brewery, especially relating to neglected production equipment and inadequate financial planning. Faced with the challenge of how to save Brouwerij Het Anker, young Charles Leclef vowed to draw upon the history of the brewery, and the pride of Mechelaars. He entered into short-term commercial brewing relationships with other breweries (with Riva between 1991-1993 and
the Anthony Martin brewery group between 1995-1997) so that he could scrape together enough finance to improve the brewing and packaging equipment. It required intelligent negotiation and people skills. As a brand building exercise and additional source of income, he opened Het Anker to visitors at a time when few breweries in Belgium were doing so (Het Anker receives about 25,000 visitors per year).
Importantly, Leclef doubled down on the Gouden Carolus, renaming it Gouden Carolus Classic and introducing a range of line extensions in the 2000s, including Gouden Carolus Tripel, Gouden Carolus Ambrio, Gouden Carolus Hopsinjoor, Gouden Carolus U.L.T.R.A., Gouden Carolus Christmas and Gouden Carolus Indulgence. In 2009, Leclef introduced a Belgian Blonde Ale of 5.8% ABV to the line-up, an easier-drinking, more approachable option for those who might find the Gouden Carolus Tripel too intense as an everyday beer. He called it Manneblusser.
Every year on February 24, the birthday of Emperor Charles V, Het Anker brews a special high alcohol ale called Gouden Carolus Cuvée van de Keizer Imperial Dark – the Grand Cru of the Emperor, a beer that has garnered a cult following. One variant, the Gouden Carolus Cuvée van de Keizer Whisky Infused, would win the Consumers Trophy of the annual Zythos beer festival in Belgium on three consecutive occasions. The feat demonstrated that Het Anker could not only provide the everyday beer for the working Mechelaar like the Maneblusser Belgian Ale, but also serve as the darling of the beer geek.
In other words, Leclef brought the brewery back from the brink. Bart Somers, Mechelen’s mayor since 2001, had known Leclef since they were children, witnessed how Leclef had saved Mechelen’s brewery and beers and brought pride back to its inhabitants. Recognisiing that Leclef’s business connections and negotiation skills would be an asset to the Mechelen city council, Somers asked him to run for local office.
If Leclef failed to save the brewery, it would mean an end to 118 years of family heritage. Most importantly, it would be a kick in the gut to all those city inhabitants who had worked at, partnered with, and supported Het Anker across Mechelen.
Every year on February 24, the birthday of Emperor Charles V, Het Anker brews a special high alcohol ale called Gouden Carolus Cuvée van de Keizer Imperial Dark – the Grand Cru of the Emperor, a beer that has garnered a cult following.
But Leclef wasn’t a politician, and he didn’t want to align with any political party. Besides, he was way too busy managing his family brewery. Het Anker needed new equipment in the brewhouse and the packaging hall again, and Leclef needed to find a way to secure additional finance.
In 2016, Leclef says, a Dutch private equity investment group called Waterland offered to invest large sums of money in Het Anker in exchange for a controlling stake in the business. Waterland was creating a portfolio of respect-
ed Belgian family breweries such as the producer of Tripel Karmeliet – Brouwerij Bosteels – in which they had already acquired a large stake. The pitch to Leclef was that Het Anker would occupy a key position in that portfolio.
Leclef needed the funds but felt uncomfortable partnering with Waterland. Instead, he asked for a meeting with his bank, BNP Paribas Fortis, with whom Leclef had forged a strategic financial partnership over 30 years. Leclef had learned from family mistakes in the past that he should think longterm, and eventually was able to strike a deal that would give the bank a minority shareholding in Het Anker in exchange for investment. Thanks to their ongoing relationship, Leclef was able to build a clear exit strategy and protections for the family ownership of Het Anker into the deal.
Bosteels was eventually off-loaded by Waterland to AB InBev, the largest brewing company in the world, through its ZX Ventures division. It was the end of 225 years of family ownership for the Bosteels family. Het Anker, on the other hand, had avoided that fate and continued to grow slowly and steadily in the hands of the Leclefs.
These discussions about capital and returns on investment led Leclef to reflect on the disparity of opportunity in the brewing world, but also inequities in the society in which he lived. Het Anker had been able to turn its fortunes around through the goodwill of people who had helped him in the early days, the hard work of his employees, and the Mechelaars’s pride in the brewery of their city. People mattered more than anything else, yet Leclef often
saw those with less being treated unfairly.
At meetings of the Belgian Brewers Federation, brewers would ask Leclef about his volume of production in hectolitres, his growth figures, his turnover numbers – parameters about which Leclef felt more and more disinterested.
“Most of the entrepreneurs and business people only think about themselves all the time and say, ‘What can I do to have more?’.” says Leclef. “But economics is in the function of people, not the other way around.”
Around that time, Leclef decided to publish statements which demonstrated Het Anker’s re-focusing not on financial gain, but on the relationship between the brewery and the people working for and with it.
“Het Anker aims to be a company that everyone is proud of,” read the new mission statement. The text used both the words proud and pride. In the Standards and Values section of Het Anker’s statement, the word pride yet features again.
Het Anker’s focus on people and their well-being intentionally contrasted with what Leclef saw in politics and business. While strengthening his reputation as an entrepreneur by developing new initiatives at Het Anker, Leclef was also becoming more publicly outspoken on social issues such as poverty, racism and climate change. On his personal Facebook page, he posted videos of Alexandria Osario Cortez, quotes from Nelson Mandella, and talks from Greta Thunberg. Then, he focused his attention on changing mindsets in Belgium’s beer industry.
Leclef’s charming nature and Het Anker’s growing commercial influence made him a leading figure in the Belgian Brewers Federation, which was established in the 14th century. The Federation’s members include wellknown family concerns such as Duvel Moortgat and Brasserie Dupont, all the Belgian Trappist breweries, the majority of Lambic producers, as well as AB InBev and Alken-Maes. Leclef was chosen to serve a three-year term between 2011 and 2014 as Grandmaster of the Knighthood of the Brewer’s Mash Staff, a largely ceremonial role at the head of the Federation which would see him representing the organisation at national events such as the Belgian Beer Weekend in the Grand Place in Brussels each year.
But despite being responsible for the vast majority of beer produced in Belgium by volume, members of the Belgian Brewer’s Federation made up only a quarter of the number of breweries in the country. In addition to an outdated system of membership fees based on archaic excise calculations and large annual production capacities, the rules stipulated that breweries wishing to join should be at
least five years old and first be proposed to the board for acceptance by two current members of the Federation.
“The Federation is not really sexy for new breweries,” Leclef said at the time. At a meeting of the Federation in early 2018, Leclef suggested they reach out to these newer, smaller, contemporary breweries. No one in the Federation offered to lead the project, so Leclef volunteered to do it himself.
Thus 2018, Leclef travelled all around Belgium on his own, personally visiting 94 breweries who were not members of the Federation but who had answered his call.
“Leclef’s approach was humble,” says Olivier De Brauwere of Brussels Beer Project. “He was clearly there to listen to us. He is an open-minded person.” Leclef presented his findings to the Federation and suggested changes which would make it more fair for smaller breweries to be part of the Belgian brewing landscape.
Impressed by his comprehensive report and passionate presentation, the Belgian Brewers Federation accepted Leclef’s suggestions, scrapping the rules requiring the need for a brewery to be at least five years old before it became a member, as well as the requirement for members to have a minimum annual production amount. Breweries wishing to join the Federation would no longer need to be proposed by two existing members. Instead, it was decided that different categories of membership would be created based on hectolitre production. This way, more breweries would have their voices heard.
Some 46 breweries joined as new members as a direct result of Leclef’s attempts. If such outreach could yield a fairer situation for smaller breweries, perhaps there was a way that a more open dialogue in politics and business could lead to a fairer way of life in Mechelen?
Leclef doesn’t like the term “giving back” –“If you think ‘I have to give back’, you probably
Leclef was also becoming more publicly outspoken on social issues such as poverty, racism and climate change. On his personal Facebook page, he posted videos of Alexandria Osario Cortez, quotes from Nelson Mandella, and talks from Greta Thunberg.
In 2020, Brouwerij Het Anker won a tender to buy the small Sint-Jozef church in the Mechelen suburb of Battel, and converted it into a microbrewery, microdistillery and restaurant, Batteliek.
took too much,” he once wrote. But when Bart Somers asked him to run for the City Council again, this time on the 2018 ballot, Leclef reconsidered. He agreed to his name being listed on the ballot alongside 260 other names vying for the 43 spots on the Mechelen City Council. He was running not with any political party, but as an independent. To improve his chances, he entered a campaign coalition with other independents: the Greens and the Open VLD. Having never been involved in politics before, he had no idea of his prospects, but Leclef would see it through. “I want to reinforce my commitment to the city,” he said.
The Mechelen council elections took place in October 2018. Leclef came 25th out of the 260 candidates and was duly elected. At the city hall, he heard the results when they came in, drinking a Gouden Carolus.
Leclef’s term on the city council runs until October, and his impact has mainly been in the role of facilitator, offering what he describes as “an objective way to look at things.”
A few days after the 2018 election, he publicly launched a new ideology which he called ‘Fairism’, something he describes as a fair way to organise societies. Leclef says other “isms” – liberalism, socialism, capitalism – don’t ensure a fair society. One of Fairism’s main principles is that of limiting capital, where people must accept that there is a fair limit to their personal assets. In 2019, he published a book entitled ‘Fairism: an equitable form of coexistence’ which set out the five pillars of the ideology: Transparency; Commitment; Basic rights; Value; and Freedom of Choice.
Fairism has been met with intrigue as well as confusion. In interviews with the Flemish media, Leclef has been asked why the complex machinery of Belgian politics needs yet another political ideology. They have suggested
to him that he is perhaps too naive. Leclef responds with a question: Are we going to keep going up against a brick wall?
Het Anker continues to grow with Leclef at the helm. In the 1990s, the brewery produced roughly 1,300 hectolitres (hL) of beer per year. Today, it brews around 45,000hL of beer every year, and enjoys a turnover in the region of €15 million. Not only did he bring Het Anker back from the brink, but he invested in a range of initiatives including the brewery restaurant, a robust visitor infrastructure, an on-site hotel and a whiskey distillery located on a 17th century farm in Blaasveld to the North West of Mechelen. He also invested in people: Het Anker has 90 employees. Leclef’s son William Leclef is now involved in the brewery with a view to succession in the future.
In 2020, Brouwerij Het Anker won a tender to buy the small Sint-Jozef church in the Mechelen suburb of Battel, and converted it into a microbrewery, microdistillery and restaurant, Batteliek.
After Het Anker won the tender, Leclef reflected on the fairness of the deal. “Who am I to say because I can find some money, I have all the rights?” he asks. “If in a few years, I cannot realise the project because it’s not possible or it’s not working, I still have all the rights to the church. That’s not fair.”
Leclef encouraged the community of Battel to establish an association, and several hundred inhabitants joined. He then made the Battel community association a co-owner of the church without them having to put money on the table, securing a right of pre-emption should Het Anker sell the property. It’s an example of the type of “co-existence” between business and community which might appear as a story in his book “Fairism''.
The next time you visit Mechelen, you might do two things. The first is to order a Gouden Carolus beer. There will be little difficulty finding a bar in the city that serves it; the people there feel an ownership of these brands and it’s ubiquitous across the city’s hospitality venues. The second thing you might do is look up towards St Rumbold’s Cathedral and see the tower where, according to folklore, the Mechelaars of 1687 tried to put out the nebulous glow of the moon.
The maneblusser nickname was concocted by Brusseleirs and Antwerpenaars trying to shame the Mechelaars and make a joke at their expense. Interpreted differently, however, the tale is also about the honour of the city. The Mechelaars saw their beautiful cathedral in jeopardy and everyone jumped into action to save it. That sort of civic pride might facilitate the type of equitable co-existence of which Charles Leclef dreams – a pride that is impossible to extinguish.
What are the most delicious foods, refreshing drinks, coolest cafés and intriguing restaurants in Brussels at the moment? Here are some that recently caught the eye of our food and drink expert Hughes Belin
There are a few must-do food experiences in Brussels and eating a filet américain at Au Vieux Saint Martin is one of them. Not only because the dish was invented by the ancestor of the owners, but also because it’s part of Brussels folklore.
The terrace on the Sablon square offers a rare possibility to be seated Paris-style, i.e. facing the square rather than facing each other. However, the comparison with the French capital ends here, mostly because the service is much friendlier at Au Vieux Saint Martin. There’s always a maître d’ or his assistant making sure everything goes smoothly, and the waiters are top professionals. “We are an institution, we don’t want to be fashionable,” says Albert-Jean Niels, who runs the place with his son Frédéric, from their offices on the second floor. It says it all.
Au Vieux Saint Martin is like a bottle of topbrand champagne: you choose it because you know exactly what to expect in terms of service and quality, even with dishes that have changed very little since its opening in 1968. The furniture is original and the menu doesn’t change much besides adapting its suggestions list to seasonal supplies, and is a typical brasserie menu is that you can eat non-stop 7/7.
Their Ostend shrimps are the perfect to start your meal, be it in a tomato, on a toast or in a croquette. Besides the filet américain, other
specials from the Belgian cuisine are also worth trying like the vol-au-vent, the pig’s trotters à la bruxelloise, the kidneys sauce Bister (mustard), the traditional carbonnades flamandes (beerstewed beef) or the kip-kap (you don’t want to know what’s inside). But you can also go in all confidence for any fish or meat dish, perfectly cooked.
On the dessert list, the homemade ice cream is delicious in a dame blanche, i.e. covered with melted chocolate and whipped cream. But the flan maison (homemade pudding) is a revelation! It’s also one of the rare places in town where you can eat a genuine fresh Brussels waffle (crispier than the Liège one).
The wine list is mostly French – besides three classic Italians that have recently made their way in – and reflects the premium values of the house. A white sauvignon, yes, but from Bordeaux; a rosé, yes, but a cru classé (Château Roubine). And a fantastic house red from Ventoux, a Château Valcombe with its tailor-made label. The wine list includes a couple of second wines from renowned châteaux in Bordeaux and a few premium bottles at a good price for the connoisseurs.
Three beautiful hotel rooms on the third and fourth floor are available for rent if you want the full monty. All in all, a top Belgian food experience worth its price if you’re looking for excellence.
Au Vieux Saint Martin
Grand Sablon 38, 1000 Brussels
The Belgian version of the steak tartare or minced raw beef as we know it today was born exactly 100 years ago. The recipe was invented by Joseph Niels, then director at the Taverne Royale in the Galerie Saint Hubert in Brussels. Before Niels, waiters used to prepare a steak tartare at the table where it was ordered, using their personal recipes, mixing minced meat, eggs, mustard, anchovies, garlic and often lemon juice. It meant neither the ingredients nor the quantities were standardised, and the final product varied a lot from one waiter to another, or even from one day to another.
Joseph Niels killed two birds with one stone: he standardised a recipe that was to be followed in the kitchen, while also allowing waiters to dedicate their complete attention to service.
Why ‘American’? Likely a reference to the steak tartare which was known in the early 20th century as steak à l’américaine.
“It’s the madeleine de Proust for most Belgians,” says Albert-Jean Niels, owner of Au Vieux Saint Martin (see article above). This year, the restaurant celebrates its flagship dish’s centennial, an impressive anniversary for this icon of Belgian cuisine invented by the owner’s ancestor. There, they use 30kg of meat every day to prepare the original filet
américain, which is duly tasted before the first serving. Their ancestor’s recipe is dutifully followed at all their other restaurants as well (Au Grand Forestier in Boitsfort, Au Savoy in Uccle, Canterbury in Ixelles and Le Claridge in Waterloo).
Since 1924, the raw meat dish has become a classic and is on the menu of most Belgian restaurants. Some chefs even cut the meat with a sharp knife to obtain a different texture and enhance the taste of the beef. Martino, a chilli variation invented in Gent, includes Cayenne pepper, paprika and tabasco. A toast cannibale is a pair of slices of toasted bread spread with filet américain and served with pickled onions, cornichons, and a small salad. However, I would avoid filet américain, préparé or martino from supermarkets because they contain preservatives and other authorised chemicals and may include pork meat.
Exact proportions remain a family secret but, the ingredients are not: 175g minced beef (grosse-cuisse or tâche noire, i.e. rumsteak) per serving, mayonnaise sauce fortified with minced piccalilli, egg yolks, salt, pepper, sauce Worcestershire, minced onions and parsley, capers. No garlic, no lemon juice, no anchovy. Stir well with a wooden spoon to reach desired texture. Serve with French fries (not too thick), a bit of cress, minced onions, and Belgian/German pickles (sweet & sour, French ones being too acidic).
The perfect drink for this summer is Belgian! Its young Franco-Belgian founder, Jules Delaere, put the spirit of southern France in a bottle – think of Peter Mayle’s novels, and there you have it.
“Apéritifs are many things: they can be a spirit, a cocktail or the bite that goes with it,” Delaere explains. He points out that “Midi Apéritifs are less bitter than amari like Campari and have a fraction of the sweetness usually found in traditional vermouths.”
His wine-based apéritifs (those containing alcohol) are made with French wine, Mediterranean fruits, herbs, and roots, including Amalfi lemons, blackberries, rosemary, apricot, almonds, verbena, and bergamot. After maceration, the botanicals are vacuum distilled at a low temperature to pack them with flavour. The distillate is then used to fortify the wine and create a sweet beverage with a hint of bitterness which can be sipped on the rocks or in long drinks with tonic, Spritz or even sparkling wine.
You can choose between two alcoholic apéritifs (21%) and a non-alcoholic one. The Classic Red is based on shiraz rosé wine, fortified with distillates of blackberry and bergamot which make it fruity with a subtle hint of herbs from rosemary, fennel seeds and wormwood. The Liquid Sunset (read: the yellow one) is based on chenin wine, fortified with distillates of apricots, Amalfi lemons with a touch of bitterness brought by hints of lemon verbena, thyme, and almonds. “A vermouth on steroids,” according to its creator. So morish indeed. The non-alcoholic apéritif is dark red and is based on verjuice (juice from unripe grapes), which brings acidity, enhanced with blackberry, fig, and rosemary hydrolats. Very refreshing on the rocks with a tonic or simply sparkling water.
Delaere’s creations are sold online, but you can also buy them in Brussels at Le Comptoir Belge in Saint-Gilles. Low in alcohol, these made in Belgium (Kortrijk) drinks are complex in flavours and at the same time very accessible. Hopefully they put a little supplement of sun in your glass, which sometimes Belgium seem to lack in its sky.
Brussels is a city full of surprises, some surreal. Texaco used to have a well-situated petrol station in the heart of Saint-Gilles, but like many others, it had to close ten years ago. Barmen Jalal and Johnny decided to retrofit the place and launch their own café.
Café la Pompe was born eight months later, nicely referring to both past and present activity. It’s a café with a soul, at a crossing of many streets, with some space between the huge terrace (100 seats) and the nearby houses. The alternative crowd of regulars from 8am to very late is mixed temporarily at noon with neighbourhood employees who can enjoy a quick but tasty lunch at €20 or so (including a €6 dessert).
Everything is homemade, even the pastries and the lemonade. Breakfast is a treat with scrambled or à la coque eggs, jam, ham, gravlax, you name it. The atmosphere in the morning bears the vibes of last evening – you feel like having a proper after-party! Service at the bar starts at 4pm, so until then you can even enjoy the luxury of a professional and friendly service, which is a rarity in Brussels. The evening snacks are incredibly cheap at less than €10 for a pulled pork burger or a garnished hot dog, or finger food at €5-7 or so.
But you come here to drink, of course. Teas come from Comptoir Florian, a reference. A couple of classic cocktails are at €10. The beer menu includes more local beers, but you can already sip Brasserie de la Senne specials and a quite refreshing Gasoline, in partnership with local micro-brewery En Stoemelings. The wine list is reduced to a minimum, but they are carefully chosen – natural wines included.
What makes this place more special than any other in Brussels? It’s a local anchor , definitely – like in Barcelona, where cafes can be found anywhere in residential areas. Having said that, neighbours may have some issues with the noise of the busy terrace, especially on Thursdays and Fridays when DJs are invited. But the place itself is the main character, with its multi-level terrace and its separate rooms inside (40 seats or so). It’s the perfect summer spot, with the pavement trapping the heat of the day late into the evening. Jalal and Johnny even kept the huge garage door, which creates a floor-to-ceiling opening of an entire wall when the weather is sunny. The many nomad workers who squat in the room from early morning hours are familiar with the bliss of working inside while feeling outside. A genuine Brussels experience at an incredibly affordable price.
Chaussée de Waterloo 211, 1060 Saint-Gilles
Helen Lyons selects the best current and upcoming exhibitions and events
June 28-30
Over 80 artists spanning a multitude of genres will gather at the Atomium under the banner of world music for the 2024 edition of Couleur Café. Tems, Action Bronson, Masego, Tyla, Biga*Ranx and SiR are just some of the acts that will take the stage with the Atomium as the backdrop.
July 4-7
This annual rock music festival has been taking place near Leuven since 1976, drawing over 100,000 attendees over four days. This year’s headliners include Dua Lipa, Foo Fighters, The Hives, Slovedive, Snow Patrol and the Bombay Bicycle Club.
July 6-7
This urban jazz festival in Molenbeek features an international lineup, from Kara Jackson and Oumou Sangaré to Belgium’s own Flat Earth Society and TaxiWars. Brosella has been holding outdoor concerts held in picturesque surroundings in Brussels since 1977.
July 11-14
Four-day electro-rock festival Les Ardentes is relatively new to the Belgian music festival scene, debuting in Liège in 2006. It attracts more and more music fans each year, and the 2024 edition is bringing some big names with Nicki Minaj, Yeat, Central Cee, DJ Snake, Gunna, Offset, Doja Cat and 21 Savage.
July 19-21 and 26-28
Tomorrowland is for those who want to dance. Held outside of Antwerp since 2006, it’s one of the most famous musical festivals in the world and has a slew of awards to show for it, including five consecutive wins for ‘best musical event of the year’. The list of artists is massive and features some promising and lesser-known names, but some of the biggest gets are SHM, Guetta, Maddix, DJ Diesel (aka Shaquille O'Neal), Gryffin, horsegiirL and Timmy Trumpet, along with Brussels’ own Odymel.
August 15-18
Pukkelpop is one of Belgium’s biggest musical festivals, held amid the forests just outside of Hasselt. It attracts upwards of two hundred thousand fans of all sorts of music, from dance and pop to metal and rap. Known for a mix of local talent and major world stars, the 2024 lineup includes Fred Again.., Rise Against, Sam Smith, Skrillex and Thom Yorke’s newest project, The Smile.
Until July 4
The 2024 edition of the Brussels Renaissance Festival will shine over three days, with processions, performances and even play time for the little ones during a special Family Day. In the remains of Charles V’s palace, kids can dress up as knights and ladies, shoot a crossbow and swing a sword. The Grand Place will be a focal point, as well. Some 1,400 costumed participants will lend their talents to recreating the aura of the most prosperous period in the history of Brussels, when the Holy Roman Emperor himself called it home.
Until January 5, 2025
Open Wednesday to Monday from 10am to 6pm 5 Grand Place, 1000 Bruxelles €16 admission, discounted rates available
This exhibition featuring the work of celebrated photographer Elliott Erwitt – the most comprehensive to date – is coming to the Grand Place in Brussels. It includes over 215 photographs by the late French-born American photographer, famous for his black-andwhite photos of absurd situations in everyday settings. Distinguished by his humour, tenderness, curiosity and keen sense of irony, Erwitt’s photographs emphasise emotion rather than the dry intellectual approach often associated with advertising and documentary photography.
Until 29 June
Wednesday to Saturday from 12pm to 6pm Borrensstraat 32, 1050 Brussel €6 admission, €3 for students
Foundation CAB presents a multidisciplinary group exhibition featuring Greet Billet, Katinka Bock, Manon de Boer, Willy De Sauter, Céline Mathieu, Guy Mees and Johanna von Monkiewitsch. Works from the seven artists play on themes of simultaneous presence and absence, boundless pictorial space, construction, deconstruction, light, play, memory and time. Presented alongside one another and intended to highlight what happens between viewer, artwork, and the surrounding space, the chosen works encourage comparison and dialogue – and maybe even a second look.
Until July 7
From Thursday to Sunday, 1pm to 6pm Rue de l’Ermitage 86, 1050 Brussels Free admission
French artist Louidgi Beltrame pursued his focus on decolonisation all the way to Peru, where he's been carrying out research since 2012. From that research comes La Huaca Llora, an exhibition of films, photographs, ink drawings on canvas and a sculpture, all exploring the figure of the huaquero, or 'clandestine grave digger'.
July 11
Doors open at 2pm Boulevard Anspach 110, 1000 Brussels Free admission
Until June 29
Tuesday to Friday from 10am to 12:30 and 1:30pm to 5pm, Saturday from 1pm to 5:30pm
Rue du Moulin à Vent 21, 1140 Evere Free admission
From July 11 to September 28
Around 100 performances of 15 shows at various locations in Brussels
€4 admission
Until July 27
Tuesday to Friday from 11am to 7pm, Saturday from 11am-6pm Rue Veydt 15, 1060 Brussels Free admission
Brussels can dance. If there were ever any doubts, they’ll be laid to rest at this year’s Brussels Dance Battle, featuring four different categories and the central theme of vibrations. Dancers will compete in Hip hop, Krump, House and Ksaar, with a final fourway battle featuring the winners from each category going head to head. Vibrations are the language of street dance, organisers say, conveying messages of reflection on the past and conjecture about the future while carrying the culture through time, as one dancer teaches the next.
Per the promise in the exhibition title, the Brussels Museum of the Mill and Food aims to guide visitors through an appreciative journey of the bread-making process from grain to loaf. From seed selection to the baker’s workshop, the exhibition explores what’s considered to be the keystone of the human diet. ‘Our daily bread’ is an ancestral preparation, it asserts, the product still a staple for countless cultures and countries. With its warme bakkers and heavy influence from French cuisine, Belgium is hardly an exception. Discover not only how it’s made, but how that process has changed as people have.
The 26th edition of the Festival Bruxellons will take place this summer at the Château du Karreveld in Molenbeek-Saint-Jean, where around 100 performances of 15 shows will take audiences into the heart of one of the popular musicals of the past decade: Come from Away. Bruxellons will present the world premiere of the French version, which tells the true story of the 7,000 passengers on 38 airliners who made an emergency landing on September 11, 2001, in the small Newfoundland town of Gander. There, the locals did everything in their power to welcome the stranded passengers from five different continents, resulting in friendships that would last a lifetime.
Galerie La Patinoire Royale Bach’s is running a solo exhibition of Los Angeles abstract artist Casper Brindle, whose layered installations capture and refract light, creating a objects of soft luminosity. Heavily influenced by southern California's surf and car culture of the 1960s and 70s, his monochromatic pieces appear to have austere white surfaces. However, as the viewer moves around them, nuanced depths becomes apparent and ghostly layers rise to the surface and new structures emerge. Atmospheric gradations of colour are encased in hardened surfaces in a constant push and pull between depth, light and texture.
Playtours for children aged from 3 to 12
Open everyday during summer until 7 p.m.
As artificial intelligence increasingly seeps into our daily lives, Geoff Meade finds himself pointlessly complaining to a robot
Iwas accidentally chatting to a robot on the phone the other day and it didn’t go well.
It wasn’t my fault, even though the swiftly exploding world of artificial intelligence, which is now advancing so quickly that it qualifies for a capital AI, is not my natural habitat.
Anyway, I was a couple of minutes into my call to what I thought was a man at a Brussels bank when I began to suspect that he wasn’t the real thing.
The only reason I was making the call in the first place was because I’d been rebuffed when I tried spontaneously to pop in to my local branch, which used to be the norm in olden days when the guardians of people’s hard-earned life savings would welcome me and you into a leather-look armchair in a stark office and offer a cup of coffee and, if your savings surpassed a certain threshold, a crunchy biscuit with a red cherry on top.
Apparently, that’s all in the past: being client-facing is a not a thing anymore, with anyone, anywhere. These days it’s as much online as they can get away with via websites of information which even includes helpful generic options to choose from which might or might not coincide with your reason for wanting or needing to be in touch in person with your bank at all.
Running out of patience with online (my fault, not the bank’s) and craving quality time with an empathetic living and breathing bank official whatever his or her standing in the banking hierarchy, I dialled a number on the website which I assumed was specifically for the generation Zzzzzz client who can’t be doing with the digital world.
That’s how I found myself gratefully listening to the voice down the phone saying, in a robotic monotone: “How can I help you?”
But at that moment, I didn’t think it was really a robot, because in my experience people working in banks often sound robotic when dealing with the general public and I can’t blame them for that – we customers can be tricky people.
So, in the absence of any declaration to the contrary, (a moral requirement at the very least you would think) I assumed that this was a human person, otherwise known as an AI (authentic individual).
I started replying in my typical chatty way and it was only then that the truth was revealed because the trouble with an AR (actual robot) is that they don’t like small talk and chitchat, both of which are my specialist subjects.
Oh, robots claim they like to chat and they even call themselves chatbots these days. And yes, some of the very, very latest very chatty-botty versions are showing signs of the gift of the gab. But early iterations of generation
AI which still lurk in our phones and laptops lack any semblance of verbal social intercourse, or VSI.
And the early clunky kinds of robots are still what we’re dealing with mostly, even though as I write this an item has popped up on the television news revealing the latest advanced chattybotty (female) robot to be unveiled to the media. I forget her name but, when a journalist attending the televised launch event praised her impressively fluent conversation by saying “You’re awesome” she promptly replied: “Oh stop it! You’re making me blush!” Which is gobsmacking technology, even though she wasn’t actually able to blush. Not yet, anyway.
But back to my phone call. As soon as the voice on the phone said, “How may I help you?” I replied enthusiastically, just happy to have, apparently, touched base with a real person after all.
To the best of my recollection, I said something like: “Hi! You don’t know me but years and years ago – I haven’t checked exactly, but, good grief., I think it was the mid-eighties, which is a lifetime ago, I know, but anyway, I put some money in another branch of your bank, which then got taken over years later, and now you’ve got it in your bank and…”
The robotic voice butted in: “How may I help you?”
I still thought it was a real, if robotic, person, so I blathered on about trying to decide whether to order a new debit card, because I haven’t had one for so long.
The robotic voice butted in again: “Please answer the following question, yes or no. Do you want a new credit card?”
It was then that I realised I was entering the realms of artificial intelligence, with the em-
I started replying in my typical chatty way and it was only then that the truth was revealed because the trouble with an AR (actual robot) is that they don’t like small talk and chitchat, both of which are my specialist subjects.
How can I help you today?
Your call is important to us
When the voice continued, I finally interrupted, asking: “Are you a robot? Why am I talking to a robot?” Which wasn’t very polite and seemed to confuse matters.
phasis on the artificial and no capital letters, but I swiftly fell in line. I replied clearly and quietly: “No.”
The robot was now in control: “Please answer the following question, yes or no. Do you want a new debit card?”
Now we were getting somewhere: “Yes,” I replied.
When the voice continued, I finally interrupted, asking: “Are you a robot? Why am I talking to a robot?” Which wasn’t very polite and seemed to confuse matters. But within minutes I was through to a human (I checked) and being offered an appointment for a real, face-to-face meeting with someone with a pulse.
This experience dovetails with the findings a recent letter writer to the Financial Times, a Swede called Lars, who offered his views on “the state of customer service in the UK.” But his technique for avoiding “the innumerable pre-programmed choices offered via artificial intelligence” could apply anywhere in Europe. His remedy is as follows: “To the first question I simply reply ‘Abracadabra.’ When asked to repeat, I stick to the same reply, and I am quickly connected to someone of flesh and blood. Never fails.” Thank you, Lars. I am not alone.
Clearly, we will never return to the days of the casual drop-in. When I eventually went for my appointment, a security guard pre-empted me going through the glass door into the bank building and entrance and told me to stay outside until he checked my credentials. He had
even less chat than the chat-free robot on the phone.
Then I was inside, back in an increasingly old-fashioned world of face-to-face engagement, with a real human person, who offered me a cup of coffee, which, very soon, robots will be able to do too I suppose.
None of that is as scary, from my point of view, as the fact that a news organisation I occasionally do some work for has updated my biography, amongst others, on its website. An email heralding the change began thus: “We’re thrilled to introduce out latest feature: AI-enhanced bios! This innovative tool is designed to breathe new life into your profile, making your first impression more impactful than ever.”
I had no idea my first impression needed upgrading, and certainly not by a robot, and for days I didn’t even dare to read it. Eventually curiosity obliged me to check it out and I have to admit I was very impressed by how accurately a robot could deliver a blast of journalistic hubris.
How about this: “As a journalist residing in the heart of Europe, Geoff Meade’s contributions to media go beyond personal narratives, offering a window into the broader implications of cultural assimilation and the changing dynamics of European citizenship.”
Or this: “His work delves into the intricacies of Belgian life, cultural integration, and the evolving identity of expatriates, especially in the context of the post-Brexit landscape.”
Bravo, robot, you’re making me blush, which is more than you can do yourself! Maybe there is something in this AI after all….