Lost in translation

In the latest chapter of a simmering dispute, some French-speakers have been effectively barred from buying property in Flemish towns.

"I will fight this to the bitter end," said Alexia Philippart de Foy who had her offer on a house in Rhodes-Saint-Genèse turned down by Flemish authorities. "It cannot be the case that someone who is 100 percent Belgian is barred from buying a house in her own country."

Tensions have been reaching fever-pitch as the government prepares to unveil plans to reorganise 29 communes dotted around Brussels.

The area, known as Brussel-Halle-Vilvoorde, has been a sore spot in relations ever since Belgium was messily carved up along language lines in 1963. Residents of this area have increasingly dug in their heels to maintain the 'identity' of their own communes, be that French or Flemish.

'French invasion'

The picturesque, sleepy village of Gooik is located just 20 kilometers (12 miles) south of the bilingual capital Brussels, but its Flemish speaking residents speak of an ‘invasion' of French-speakers.

"We want to preserve the Flemish character of this beautiful town," said Gooik's mayor, Michel Doomst. "We don't want it to be overwhelmed by people who speak other languages."

Doomst, a jovial, smiling character, counts on the support of many of Gooik's 11,000 residents. One elderly man walking his dog explained: "The Flemish here feel squeezed out because more and more French speakers are coming down from Brussels to live here. Houses are cheaper and it's leafier here."

One local woman put it in starker terms: "Why can't they just leave us alone? They are so imperialistic, imposing their French language everywhere. But this is a Flemish area that should be kept Flemish."

Deterrents

Mayor Doomst has now taken matters into his own hands and has imposed his own informal mechanism to deter French speakers from moving in.

"We have a system of incentives in order to give precedence to people who have a clear link with this commune," he said. "And yes, that means Flemish people."

Even residents who put their houses on the market are 'encouraged' to sell to Flemish people, he said.

Down the road in leafy, Flemish Rhodes-Saint-Genèse, the deterrents are more formal. Authorities have imposed a decree called 'Live in Your Own Area' which sets out clear conditions for would-be property buyers.

"The decree says you can't buy a house unless you've lived or worked in that commune for six years or have a clear link with it," Philippart de Foy, a businesswoman in her thirties, said. "I work all over the country but I've lived here for two years with my partner, who also works here. And our daughter goes to school here. But that's not enough for them."

There seems to be little hope of the issue being resolved. Belgium's 11 million people have somehow learned to live with this strong undercurrent of political tensions that nearly split the country apart three years ago.

Echoing a common sentiment, one French-speaking man shrugged and said: "Most of us still manage to get along with each other. But it's very sad that the politicians have let it get this far. What chance is there of creating a united Europe when we can't even get along in Belgium?"

Author: Vanessa Mock, Brussels
Editor: Chuck Penfold