Belgium: less than the sum of its parts?

Inroads: A Journal of Opinion, Summer-Fall, 2008 by Johanne Poirier

Apart from chocolate and beer, one of the major products exported from Belgium over the last two decades has been its constitutional model. It has not been copied elsewhere, at least not in its entirety ("Thank God," some would say), but it has been studied in nearly every international circle concerned with institutional solutions for ethnically and linguistically complex societies, especially ones emerging from conflict. Bosniaks, Sri Lankans, Cypriots, Northern Irish, Sudanese, Israelis and Palestinians have all tried to understand how a society that is so profoundly divided, from a cultural and linguistic perspective, could replace the threat of violence with political dialogue and compromise.

Over the last five years or so, however, Belgium has moved from a model to be studied to a counterexample to be avoided. Defenders of federalism now mention Belgium with a hushed tone of embarrassment, as a sort of pathological cas d'espece. What happened? And what can we learn from this evolution?

This is not the place to explain the mind-boggling constitutional framework Belgium has adopted over the last 35 years. Suffice it to say that Belgians--who invented surrealism and the bande dessinee--have shown a degree of constitutional creativity that is the delight of professors of comparative federalism and the nightmare of Belgian citizens, often unable to navigate their own system. For years, there was a tradeoff between political transparency and political compromises among the various components of the country. It sort of worked. Yet, the legendary capacity of Belgians to reach baroque political and constitutional compromises may now be stretched to its limits.

It took over nine months, following the June 2007 Belgian federal elections, for five political parties to agree on a minimum platform and form a coalition government. (1) During the political paralysis, many feared that the country was on the brink of coming apart, whether deliberately or through a lack of will to reach new compromises. A number of committed federalists, while continuing to oppose the breakup of the country, abandoned their former reluctance to mention this eventuality. They deplored it, but acknowledged its likelihood. For many, it was a question of time (two, five, ten, fifteen years?). At this point, midway between the June 2007 elections and the next round of regional elections in 2009, it is difficult to assess whether the federation is in palliative care, in remission or just recovering from one of its many constitutional-reform-inducing crises.

The current problem in Belgium does not lie with its federal structure per se (though, as with any constitutional setup, it could be improved). It lies, rather, with constitutional arrangements and political developments that preceded the federalization process, which culminated in Belgium's becoming officially federal in 1993. Belgians have superimposed a federal structure on preexisting constitutional compromises between Flemings and French speakers, which has led to a deeply polarized political and social landscape. The polarizing effect of institutions, along with Belgium's key role in the European Union, provide much of the context for the Belgian drama. From all this, we can draw some limited lessons for other divided societies.

Institutions that crgstallize divisions

Several features of the Belgian constitutional and political landscape help explain the high degree of polarization between the two main cultural/language groups: the Flemish (around 6 million) and the French speakers (around 4 million). This is not to suggest that institutions are the sole culprit, but they do contribute to the constant pitting of one group against the other.

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Linguistically divided political parties

Starting in the late 1960s, every political party has split along linguistic lines. There is a French-speaking and a Dutch-speaking Liberal party. The same with the Socialists, Christian Democrats, etc. No single politician, including the prime minister, seeks votes on both sides of the linguistic border. All must be candidates in single-language lists.

This has had the effect of polarizing political rhetoric, often to a disconcerting degree. Even moderate candidates will radicalize their speech if they require votes from only one segment of the population. Pre-election partisan oratory games are divisive, and nearly always pit the Dutch-speaking north against the French-speaking south. It is often easy to blame the "Other" in such a context. Burundi, which was under Belgian rule from 1919 to 1962, learned a thing or two from its old colonial power (2): no Burundian political party can run only Tutsi or only Hutu candidates.

A purely proportional electoral system and the need for coalition governments

Belgium has a purely proportional electoral system (as opposed to the mixed system in place in Scotland or Germany for example). This leads to a particularly fragmented political landscape and reinforces the division of each party along language lines. Any federal coalition requires at least four parties: two Flemish and two French-speaking. Today, Flanders is increasingly right of centre and autonomy-seeking while Wallonia and Brussels remain left of centre and opposed to significant further devolution to the constitutive units. In this context, putting together any coalition is extremely difficult. (3)