When he started in politics,
Bart De Wever had a dream. He
wanted to be the democrat to
halt the seemingly unstoppable
Vlaams Blok (later Vlaams
Belang), something in which
not one politician or party had
succeeded.
Two Christian-democrats
dominated the news last
weekend. At the Aalst carnival,
mayor Ilse Uyttersprot dressed
up as a maiden, in reference
to the YouTube clip that made
her famous. In the clip, she
was caught in the act with
her boyfriend on top of some
Mediterranean tower. The scene
was re-enacted endlessly at the
Carnival, all of which the mayor
accepted in good spirits.
It took Belgium more than a
year to get a new government,
but once it was installed,
it acted promptly. Within a
month, it presented its pension
plan in parliament. Federal
pension minister Vincent Van
Quickenborne (Open VLD) was
so pleased with this that some
hold him personally responsible
for the strikes and industrial
actions that followed.
In politics, Antwerp is special.
It is a political laboratory, the
place where trends that can
last for decades are born. It was
Antwerp that gave the first break
to new parties such as Agalev
(now Groen!) and Vlaams Blok
(now Vlaams Belang) in the
1980. If you can make it there,
you can make it… right.
Belgium can go without a
federal government for 500
days, with little excitement. We
shrug: See if we care! This week’s
one-day strike, however, was
very divisive. Everyone has a
opinion on it; confrontation is
in the air.
Some phenomena seem to
repeat themselves endlessly in
Flemish politics. One of them is
successful business people, who
feel that they are much more
competent than politicians,
decide to go into politics – and
fail. A business background
does not guarantee success in
politics. Quite the opposite:
business people find it hard to
adjust to the (rough) mores and
the (slow) pace of political life.
Media scrutiny is just one of
things they are not used to.
Confident, bordering on
arrogant. That is how one
observer described the
atmosphere at the New Year
reception of the Flemish
greens. How did that come
about, for a party that was
all but wiped out less than 10
years ago?
In times of budget cuts, hard
choices have to be made, even
in a wealthy region such as
Flanders. The first party to
speak out on the cuts was
N-VA. Last week, Jan Peumans,
speaker of the Flemish
Parliament, pointed out that
De Lijn, the Flemish public
transport company, generates
only 15% of its own income.
The rest is public funding.
“This is funny. All of this year’s
contracts date from before 28
November – not just in my
business, but in those of my
competitors, too.” The double-glazing
salesman smiles as
he talks about the impact of
politics on his trade and the
creativity with which he and
his colleagues are responding
to it.
Cartels – two or more parties
joining forces at elections –
seemed something of the past
in Flanders. The two most
notable cartels are no longer
around. Spirit, the party of Bert
Anciaux that teamed up with
the Flemish socialists in 1999,
has been absorbed by them – as
was predicted. The Christiandemocrat
CD&V and nationalist
N-VA succeeded in putting an
end to the Verhofstadt years in
2007, but their alliance burst
into smithereens shortly after –
as was predicted, too.
Flanders Today is a 
