Review of A Throne in Brussels: Britain, the Saxe-Coburgs and the Belgianisation of Europe

 by Nathan Alexander  

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This move towards authoritarianism, Paul Belien argues in his book, has been the most significant achievement of Belgium’s ruling Saxe-Coberg family. It is also why Belgium, a state in which private interests have historically superseded those of the public, is admired by the unelected bureaucrats who will control the looming European superstate.

A Throne in Brussels: Britain, the Saxe-Coburgs and the Belgianisation of Europe by Paul Belien. United Kingdom: Imprint Academic, 2005. 384 pp. $49.00 ($29.00, paper).

“’The weather was warm and beautiful,’ writes Jacques Roubaud in the opening line of his novel Hortense is Abducted, ‘so we couldn’t have been in Belgium.’” If weather is a metaphor for good government, it’s doubly likely that Roubaud was not in Belgium; or as Paul Belien suggests in his A Throne in Brussels: Britain, the Saxe-Coburgs and the Belgianisation of Europe, the Brussels-led European Union. 

Belien’s book, A Throne in Brussels, accomplishes three things. It is a critical history of the Saxe-Coberg family and an account of their manipulation of the idea of “Belgium” (and its citizens) in order to enrich themselves. It is an account of how Belgians of Flemish descent (“Flemings”) have been compelled to participate in this “artificial” state. Finally, the book is a polemic against the looming European “superstate.” In the absence of any popular legitimacy, Belien argues, how can such a state succeed without eliminating the democratic right of the governed to govern themselves? This move towards authoritarianism, Belien argues, has been the most significant achievement of Belgium’s ruling Saxe-Coberg family. It is also why Belgium, a state in which private interests have historically superseded those of the public, is admired by the unelected bureaucrats who will control the looming European superstate. 

An Artificial State

Belgium came into existence in 1830 when French-speaking inhabitants revolted against the newly created United Kingdom of the Netherlands. The Netherlands, created by the great powers after Napoleon’s defeat, was meant to serve as a buffer state against future French expansion. France, not wanting a Dutch-dominated state on its border, encouraged French-speaking inhabitants to break away from the Netherlands and  join with France;  however,  the French were prevented from annexing the country outright when Britain threatened to intervene militarily. The compromise was the country of Belgium. Belgium  was to be ruled  by the conniving German prince Leopold von Saxe-Coburg, who, because of his brief marriage to Charlotte of Hanover (heiress to the British throne), the British imagined they could control. 

From the outset, Belgium was doomed to political instability. The Walloons, or French-speaking Belgians, resided in the south and ruled over the majority, the Dutch-speaking Flemings. Traditionally, the north has been more prosperous than the south and as its wealth was increasingly transferred to the Walloons, it threatened to unite with the Netherlands. To prevent this, and the loss of their most prosperous region, the Saxe-Coburgs needed to remain close to France. However, even if the country were to remain together, the Saxe-Coburgs also had to prevent the Flemings from democratically taking control of the country. The crowning achievement of the Saxe-Coburg family has been to consolidate their support among the Walloons through massive wealth transfers from the Flemings; and also eliminate Flemish resistance through manipulation of the democratic process. 

A Belgian Heart of Darkness

The second King of the Belgians, Leopold II, believed the Flemings might submit to the idea of Belgium if he could somehow instill a sense of nationalism in them. The solution he arrived at involved securing a colony.  “This will be our share of the African cake,” he declared.  Leopold managed to dupe international opinion into believing he wished to acquire the Congo in order to abolish the slave trade. Instead, he purchased the Congo as a personal possession, and for the next 23 years made it into a slave-labor colony. He hired an army (which employed cannibals) in order to force the natives to extract rubber, from which he amassed a personal fortune. He kept the laborers’ wives and children imprisoned as hostages in order to “increase productivity.” Those who failed to meet their quota “had their hands and feet cut off.” While Leopold grew wealthy, the Congo was nearly destroyed. Nearly half of its 20 million inhabitants died. Those who tried to flee were hunted down by the cannibals, who were given permission to eat them.  

“Brussels is worth [the] mass[es]”

Under Albert, the third king of the Belgians, the monarchy undercut Flemish nationalism by jettisoning the ruling Catholic elite (and the accompanying restricted franchise), and choosing instead to ingratiate itself with the more egalitarian socialist movement. This undermined, in part, the Flemish-Walloon linguistic and cultural division. The monarchy also helped arrange for the so-called Loppem Franchise system, which remains in effect until today. The Loppem Franchise system was an arrangement by which the government would run the state with unelected “social partners”. Representatives of the Belgian employers’ union and the three largest trade unions were given control of parliamentary prerogatives such as welfare and health insurance. Economic and social policies were now to be “decided in consensus between the social partners, rather than in parliament.” After the Second World War, the government took over many national industries, and the “social partners” placed their members on the boards of major Belgian companies. In this way, the unelected “social partners” came to dominate both government and economic policy—even at the level of the “private” corporation. 

The “social partner” arrangement, Belien writes, created a certain political stability, but it also “transformed Belgium into a corporatist regime,” corrupted its politics and bred massive waste and inefficiency.  “Politically unaccountable,” the “social partners” acted to ensure their own interests rather than those of Belgium’s citizens.  As the “social partners” received funding from the government, they had a vested interest in high unemployment, which increased the flow of public money under their control. The “Loppem Coup,” as Belien puts it,  eventually brought Belgium’s political parties under the sway of the non-elected “social partners.” It “made individual deputies totally subservient to their party’s ruling caucus.” Today, the “official representatives of the “social partners” . . . decide where a candidate is placed on the electoral list. It is his place on the list rather than the number of votes he receives that determines a candidate’s chances of election.” Consequently, “a Representative or Senator who dares to disobey party directives commits political suicide. He can also forget the career opportunities of his sons and daughters in the civil service or in the many companies owned or controlled by the state or the “partners.” 

After the Second World War (the Belgian monarchy, putting itself before country or principle, initially aligned itself with Nazi Germany), the growing prosperity of the Flanders area (and decline of the French-speaking Walloon region) once again raised the specter of Flemish nationalism and secession. To counter skyrocketing unemployment in Wallonia, the government simply increased the number of federal employees in the south—to an astounding 40% of the Walloon population. In fact, unemployment benefits were dramatically increased “to the point where it was rewarding to not have a job.” As Walloon industry continued to collapse, the government simply took it over, increasing the amount of wealth moving from Flanders to the south and the power the state had over the private sector. 

Massive transfers of wealth from the Flemish areas of Belgium again sparked secessionist movements. The monarchy, however, needing to ensure that it’s own base of revenue (ie. Belgium plus Flanders) didn’t fall apart, came upon an anti-democratic solution to prevent Belgium from dissolving: Federalism. In order to justify wealth transfers from Flanders to the Walloon areas, the monarchy embraced the rhetoric of multiculturalism. To ensure the Walloons were not “oppressed,” (presumably by welfare restrictions) , the monarchy arranged for the larger Flemish and smaller Walloon states to assume equal status at the federal level. Despite the Walloons comprising only 40 percent of the population, their “representation” at the federal level would become the equivalent of 50 percent. In this way “multiculturalism” ensured that both “cultures” would be supported equally. In fact, it ensured that the monarchy’s base in Wallonia would continue to receive enormous “social transfers” and “solidarity payments” and that this could not be stopped democratically. As the federal principle took precedence over any democratic discussion of state wealth, the social welfare state in Wallonia expanded unchecked. Today, Belien writes, Belgium is the country with the highest percentage of social beneficiaries in the world. It is the only country where more people receive benefits form the state than work for a living. In short, there was no way for the majority of Belgian citizens to control how the country’s wealth was spent. And, most importantly, as far as the monarchy was concerned, it “prevented 4.5 million Flemings [from deciding] about the fate of 3 million Walloons.” 

The Monarchy and “Multiculturalism”

In the nineteenth century, the Belgian monarchy had embraced socialism in order to ensure its hegemony over national politics. In the twentieth century, it would use “multiculturalism” to prevent democracy from curtailing its authority. As Flemish nationalism increased, the government adopted a “quick citizenship bill,” which opened Belgium to a flood of French-speaking African immigrants. The country’s liberal welfare policies ensured a steady flow of French-voting Africans who could be counted on to support the monarchy.[1] This was made reality when, so as “not to be racist”, the new immigrants (illegal and otherwise) were given the right to vote and to have a say in Belgium’s welfare policies. The Flemish backlash was considerable and predictable. Hostile to funding the burgeoning number of unemployed immigrants, the Flemish national interest party Vlaams Belang became the largest party in Belgium. The monarchy responded predictably:  Using “multiculturalism” and “racism” as a pretext, the Belgian state banned its largest party.[2]

While most monarchs’ powers declined following the First World War, the Belgian monarchy increased its authority. Today Belgium has political parties, but the monarchy dominates them in a way unlike other European states. Today, the king appoints a “formateur” who brings the parties together “for coalition talks.” The fragmentation of political parties makes the creation of coalitions of decisive importance. Engineering a coalition government that was part socialist, part corporatist, the monarchy has created a situation where stability is achieved by creating a massive welfare mechanism which co-opts opposition by putting potential opponents on the state payroll.

The Dutroux Affair

Belien argues that the Belgians today view (and exploit) their government with a cynicism that matches that of their monarchy. The collapse of what political scientists call “civil society,” or social life independent of the state, has not been without cost. In a country not bound together by common moral or cultural ties; in a country where the “first citizen” is its most egregious law transgressor, it is only natural that Belgium’s citizens increasingly see the state as not something belonging to them, but something to exploit. The so-called “Dutroux” affair, which attracted global attention, is an illustration of the collapse of a “system” which commands no allegiance from its citizens. 

Marc Dutroux was a petty criminal who distinguished his spate of rapes and murders (often of young children) by his utter indifference to the Belgian legal system. Those of his rape victims he chose not to kill, were often dropped off at their homes after he had finished with them. When he was finally imprisoned after nearly a dozen rapes, he was promptly released by the government as being an “invalid” and given a large pension for having “suffered psychological damage” while briefly in prison. With the money from his pension he was able to purchase a number of houses, constructing “dungeons” in them for the purpose of more grisly activities. He then went on another spree of kidnapping, rape and murder. While the police were repeatedly tipped off that Dutroux was a probable suspect in the disappearance of several young girls, they did nothing. When Dutroux was finally arrested, he was released on “humanitarian” grounds (his wife and accomplice had given birth). After further murders and rapes, he was arrested yet again. 

Public opinion finally intervened, and Dutroux appeared headed for a serious trial. However, after investigators discovered evidence potentially linking Dutroux (and possibly the blundering investigation before) to sex parties associated with the Belgian monarchy, a series of mysterious incidents derailed any serious inquiry. First, the chief prosecutor was removed from the case for attending a “spaghetti dinner fundraiser” on behalf of Dutroux’s victims. The prosecutor’s replacement failed to continue to pursue the extent of Dutroux’s crimes and the trial itself was postponed for over six years. By this time, much evidence had “disappeared” and the links between Dutroux and the monarchy remained unexplored. 

The lesson Belien takes from the Dutroux affair is less the monstrosity of his crimes than the indifference of government officials to pursuing the law when other, “private” interests may have been at stake. When a subculture of corruption and privilege reaches a position of dominance within a polity, citizens can hardly be expected to uphold a law which the state itself routinely transgresses. The Dutroux affair was a metaphor for the Saxe-Coburg dynasty. The monarchy had, for a century, routinely taken advantage of the law and its citizens to preserve a state which had no natural reason for existing. The indifference Belgian officials had towards the law—despite the monstrosity of Dutroux’s crimes had to do with simple self-preservation.[3]  In a polity where the authority of law is so clearly secondary to the private interests of the monarchy and the corporate state, each individual must pursue his or her own interests independent of the “spirit of the law.” In the case of Belgium, this spirit is very much a heart of darkness. 

A Throne in Brussels is hardly an attempt at a balanced account of the Saxe-Coburgs or the Belgian state. Belien has no use for the monarchy or Belgium and would, presumably, happily see the Walloon portion of Belgium be absorbed into France; and that associated with the Flemings either go its own way, or be reunited with the Netherlands.

As such, A Throne in Brussels is vulnerable to historian-critics who would argue that it is social or parliamentary history which drives history, not a monarch. Belien also makes no effort to give an account of the “Walloon” side of things, or account for counterarguments. 

Belien’s book may be profitably read alongside Christie Davies’ Strange Death of Moral England.[4] Davies argues that English elites have, since the mid-1960s, appropriated rhetoric of “morality” as a way of imposing their own social conventions against the democratically-expressed will of the majority. In the case of England, libertine attitudes towards sex, abortion on demand, and divorce, all couched in the grandiose language of “rights of freedom of expression”, insinuated themselves into law by judicial fiat instead of parliamentary vote. 

Most of these “rights” (celebrated with great fanfare by their proponents) were, as the Marxists used to say, purely abstract rights. Unless one could afford the leisure to indulge in them, they might as well not exist. A child custody system, for instance, was created allegedly to “benefit women.”  While the system by default gave children to the mother, in the event the father had money, it took relatively little effort to strip a woman of her offspring.[5] In fact, the custody system depended not on the common ethics of parenting, but on whomever had the most money. In this respect, the custody system reflected the needs of wealthy elites. Likewise, in his recent book The Trouble with Diversity, literary scholar Walter Benn Michaels demonstrates how the “struggle for diversity” in the United States has served as a “moral rhetoric” which enables wealthy elites to advance their own agenda, at the cost of precisely those minorities that the rhetoric purports to assist. From this perspective, Belien’s argument about the monarchy might be seen as part of an effort by the King and Belgium’s elites to exploit the rhetoric of morality and the nation state to maintain their existence outside the law. 

A Throne in Brussels is a superb narrative history which, despite its trenchant, unsparing criticism of the Saxe-Coburgs, and unconcealed partisanship, is as remarkably witty as it is a damning account of the machinations of the Belgian monarchy. Belein, who is author of the well- known Brussels Journal and co-founder of the Centre for a New Europe, was himself victim to the monarchy’s extra-legal pressures. When the King, Baudoin,  refused to sign a new abortion law, the editor of the newspaper he worked for, Lou de Clerck, refused to publish this potentially scandalous information. Belien published an account of the King’s refusal to go along with the Belgian parliament in the Wall Street Journal. de Clerck then fired Belien. Currently, Belien’s web site, the Brussels Journal, is under investigation by Belgium’s “Centre for Equal Opportunities and Opposition to Racism,” the government’s Orwellian front organization which is used to suppress criticism of its policies. In Belgium today, the government cannot protect its citizens from violence from illegal immigrants; however it is assiduous in preventing its citizens from complaining about this. One is reminded of the German poet Brecht’s statement about the East German state’s attitude towards its workers: “If the workers do not support the workers' state, so much the worse for the workers.” Who would have thought a monarchy, in the twentieth century, could still retain the same absolutist authority over its citizens.

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Politics: General, Book Reviews, Foreign Affairs: Europe

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