Breaking up Belgium

I seem to have a habit of living in countries that split apart at the seams.

I’m originally from Wales, one of the four nations that make up Britain – an artificial construct that is slowly becoming unglued. The nationalists recently took power in Scotland and they are likely to call – and win - a referendum on independence.

In the early 1990’s I lived in Czechoslovakia, which split into the Czech and Slovak republics shortly after I left.

Since then I have been living in Belgium, a chronically divided country that increasingly appears headed for the knackers yard of nations.

Since general elections were held in June, this small, wind-swept country of 10 million people has effectively been without a government. The reason is the party that won the elections – the Flemish Christian Democrats – wants greater autonomy for the prosperous north of the country, while its likely coalition partners want to preserve the Belgian state in all its glory.

The longer the squabble has gone on, the more Flemings have started to believe they no longer need their poorer, French-speaking Walloon neighbours. In a recent poll, over 40% of Flemings said they favoured the break up of the country.

This has sparked a curious reaction in Brussels, which is a separate, largely French-speaking region surrounded by Flanders. Many Belgians, who are one of the least nationalistic peoples on the planet, have begun to drape the Belgian flag from their balconies. There has even been a rally in favour of keeping the Belgian state – although it only attracted several hundred diehards.

The reaction is typical of couples that are about to split. After the heated argument comes the realization that there are common bonds, shared histories and mutual dependencies that make staying together so much easier than breaking up.

The problem with Belgium is that the couple – the Flemish and Walloons – have almost nothing in common except a passion for beer, fine food, the royal family and the national football team. They speak different languages – which both sides increasingly fail to understand - read different newspapers, watch different TV stations and think differently about work and the welfare state.

So why don’t the two sides just call it a day? Because, quite simply, neither side is prepared to cede control of Brussels, the Belgian capital that also serves as the headquarters of the European Union and NATO.

There is no obvious solution to the Brussels irridenta – except creating a third state - but the current situation is by no means ideal either. Despite being one of the richest regions in the Union, the capital has over 20% unemployment - one of the highest rates in the bloc. Red tape is rife, taxes are astronomic and the city’s bureaucracy is hamstrung by incessant disputes between the two main linguistic camps.

With over half the city’s population foreign or foreign born, Brussels has ceased to be a city of Belgians. It is a multinational, multilingual city par excellence, so why not create an international city-state – a kind of Belgian Dubai – with low taxes and attractive investment opportunities? The odds are it would survive perfectly well on its own.

Opponents argue that Europe already has enough nations, that Flanders and Wallonia would be too small to exist separately and that splitting up would encourage other small nations – the Welsh, the Catalans etc – to go their own way.

All these arguments are spurious. The nation state was largely a 19th century invention. The break up of Yugoslavia, Czechoslovakia and east and west Germany showed what happens to artificial countries in the east. Now the people of the west are taking a long hard look at their identities and are coming to the conclusion that in a European Union of 27 countries, it is perfectly possible to be a proud Catalan, Scot or Fleming and a model European. In fact, public support for the EU is stronger in these so-called ‘regions’ than in national capitals such as London, Madrid or Brussels.

The idea that size matters is also largely irrelevant in a world with 200 countries. If Flanders became independent it would be a medium sized EU state and bigger than Ireland, Estonia, Slovenia, Malta, Luxembourg, Cyprus, Latvia, Lithuania, Sweden and Slovakia.

The uncomfortable truth is that Belgium as it exists today is the world’s first post-modern state. ‘Ceci n’est pas un pays’ is how native son Rene Magritte would describe it if he were alive. Quite simply, it is an absurd, wasteful, shallow vessel of a construct that has served its purpose and should split for the sake of both sides.

This would be good for the Flemish – who would have to stop blaming the Walloons for all their ills – and good for the Walloons, who would have to learn to live without generous subsidies from the north. The example of Slovakia, which was once poorer and more depressed than the Czech Republic but is now one of central Europe’s star pupils, shows that breaking up is not always hard to do.