Last week, following the decision of CD&V president Wouter Beke to join coalition talks on certain conditions, the stage seemed set for the final push. The King, whose National Day speech to the nation had particularly stressed the urgency of finding a solution, then made something of an about-turn; according to a statement from the palace, “The King suggested introducing a pause in the discussions until the middle of August.” The weary negotiators could go off on holiday with Royal Assent.

When they return, they will be sitting down to discuss the document produced early in July by French-speaking socialist leader Elio Di Rupo, which contained detailed plans for state reform, budget balancing and social reforms. Some of the sections of that 100-page discussion document, though, have been dropped for the time being, in a move designed to bring CD&V to the table. Those sections, referred to dismissively as “ballast”, include issues relating to the status of French-speakers in the Flemish municipalities around Brussels,
a proposed federal electoral list, and voting rights in the Brussels periphery. They are formally being passed over to working groups, though many wonder if they will ever be seen again.

Beke, who had wavered between rejecting the Di Rupo proposals as “no grounds for negotiation” and what the press called “playing hard
to get”, announced that CD&V had got what it asked for: the discussions will deal with the splitting of the Brussels-Halle-Vilvoorde electoral
district and other matters of state reform before it goes on to tackle the social and economic aspects of the dossier.

Bart De Wever, whose N-VA had issued a categorical No to the proposals, accused Beke of backing down. “I find it tragic and particularly
disappointing that CD&V is once more doing what it did in 2008: bending against its better judgement to the will of the PS and the Frenchspeakers,” De Wever said in a press release. “Di Rupo has in no way accepted the very mild conditions of CD&V, and yet they go swimming into the net the French-speakers have set out for them.”

The King, in his speech delivered to the nation on the eve of National Day on 21 July, had been uncharacteristically emotional, even angry. Those who had been expecting His Majesty to gloss over the ongoing discussions for the sake of presenting an encouraging message were caught on the wrong foot. Citing the English constitutionalist Walter Bagehot, he described the three prerogatives of a constitutional monarch towards his ministers: to be informed, to encourage and to warn.

“I would be shirking in my duty if I were not to remind you of the risks all Belgians run in the event of a long-running crisis, and also if I were
to fail to press home to politicians and those who work with them, the need to be constructive and speedy in finding a balanced solution to our problems,” he said. “The people need not only to press their representatives to take courageous decisions,” he continued. “They also themselves need to make an effort to establish an increased understanding between our communities: meeting the other halfway, speaking his language, showing an interest in his culture, learning to know him better – these are all the outward signs of a modern citizenry.”

National Day itself was marked, aside from by the expected national downpour, by the King’s decision not to include his son prince Laurent in the party on the dais during the annual military parade, a continuation of the estrangement triggered by Laurent’s decision to visit Congo against the advice of the prime minister and the palace. Laurent instead joined with 15,000 people in the Bal National event in the Marollen in Brussels. His father, meanwhile, decided to break with tradition and stay away from the after-parade entertainment in the Royal Park, limiting his participation to the strictly official Te Deum in the cathedral in Brussels, and the military parade later.