"I don't need a lot of sleep," he admits. "I get up easily, and always try to get some exercise in the morning. I take the stairs instead of the elevator. That wakes me up."

His work day doesn't stop until 23.00. Given the range of his current portfolio, it's not a minute too late. He is not only Flanders' minister of administrative affairs, but also of local and provincial government, of civic integration, of tourism, of heritage and of the Vlaamse Rand (aka the Flemish periphery around Brussels). Not to mention vice-minister president, "which is very interesting, because I get to deal with the overall budget. It is a lot, but it keeps me fresh. I turn a switch every hour."

Dressed in a spotless white shirt and tie but no jacket, he gladly switches to talk-mode. First up is inburgering, or civic integration. Like many European countries, Belgium becomes a new home every year to thousands of immigrants, but only recently began "to extend a helping hand," as Bourgeois puts it.

"Many of those people go through a very difficult period," he says, "and sometimes know little or nothing of the country in which they have ended up." He remembers the post-war guest workers who were largely left to fend for themselves, "which was absolutely wrong. We only started in the mid-1990s with voluntary integration courses," he says, "which became mandatory in 2004. Before that, we did nothing."

Civic or social integration is a programme, explains Bourgeois, that helps every newcomer become "a fully- fledged citizen who takes an active part in society. It means learning the language to be able to communicate with your neighbour and government. But it also means accepting a basic set of values - the separation of church and state or the equality between men and women, for example. If you don't accept those, then I say sorry, there is no place here for you."

From solitary confinement to top party
Bourgeois, 59, is a Flemish nationalist. He always has been, ever since as a teenager he joined the nationalist Volksunie, until in 2001 it dissolved into several smaller parties, one of which he himself founded and is known today as the Nieuw- Vlaamse Alliantie, or N-VA, the biggest party in the country after last year's election.

"Yes I'm proud," he says. "We started out in difficult circumstances. The split of the Volksunie was painful, also for me personally. In 2003, I was still all alone in parliament. It fills me with joy that we've done so well."

Not everybody in Belgium feels the same. Much of the French-speaking part of the country, for example, are simply appalled by the surge of the N-VA and of Flemish nationalism in general. "Unrightfully so," Bourgeois says, characteristically calm and eloquent. He was a lawyer in a previous life and is noticeably used to explaining things.

"I think it is because we want independence and because nationalism itself has a bad connotation. Perhaps we should present ourselves as Flemish patriots instead of nationalists," he says, only half jokingly. "Patriotism, unlike nationalism, is widely accepted, from the US to France and the Netherlands. But somehow we have a bad reputation."

Also internationally, he often finds himself on the defensive. "It is difficult to explain to international media, who often stay informed through francophone newspapers, that we, the majority of the country, want independence. You'd have to know the history of the country," he says. "But in the eyes of the international community, Belgium remains a Latin country, belonging to the francité. Our language is only small compared to French - a language that I love, by the way, but whose practitioners sometimes do manage to portray us almost as inhuman creatures. Which we are not. We don't believe in ethnic nationalism. We believe in so-called humanitarian nationalism, an inclusive ideology based not on bloodline but on citizenship."

Priority to locals
Something else that may be difficult to explain is the Flemish stance on Brussels, or rather its periphery, one of Bourgeois' many other dossiers. His housing policies there, which aim to maintain the Flemish character of the land by giving priority to locals and Dutch speakers, have not only incited allusions to Nazi Germany (by Olivier Maingain, president of the French-language defending FDF party), but also reprimands of the Council of Europe anti-discrimination commission.

"The local population there are being driven away," Bourgeois says. "The francophone bourgeoisie have fled the inner city, driving up land and house prices. That's why we chose to give priority to [locals], not only around Brussels, by the way, but also on the coast or around Antwerp."

He denies the allegation, oFten voiced in Brussels, that the city finds itself incarcerated, a prisoner of Flemish housing policies. "We live in a free country," he asserts. "We're still a member of the EU, where goods and people can move about freely. You're not expected to pass a language test if you want to come and live in the periphery. That is something that is being cultivated."

These concerns, though, aren't helping the federal government negotiations, famously dragging along for almost a year now, and still no end in sight. "It has become a trench war," Bourgeois agrees. "All we ask for is more responsibility, but the francophones are afraid. I remember saying not long ago that I rate the chance of success at 50%; but I'm afraid that even might have been too optimistic."

Bourgeois himself has no plans to retire. "On the contrary, I think we all should work longer. I lose all my best officials because they leave when they hit 60. I'll be 60 soon, and I feel fine. I'd love to go on for a while," he says. "But you know, I'm from West Flanders, and my motto is ‘work and enjoy'."

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