To save content items to your account,
please confirm that you agree to abide by our usage policies.
If this is the first time you use this feature, you will be asked to authorise Cambridge Core to connect with your account.
Find out more about saving content to .
To save content items to your Kindle, first ensure no-reply@cambridge.org
is added to your Approved Personal Document E-mail List under your Personal Document Settings
on the Manage Your Content and Devices page of your Amazon account. Then enter the ‘name’ part
of your Kindle email address below.
Find out more about saving to your Kindle.
Note you can select to save to either the @free.kindle.com or @kindle.com variations.
‘@free.kindle.com’ emails are free but can only be saved to your device when it is connected to wi-fi.
‘@kindle.com’ emails can be delivered even when you are not connected to wi-fi, but note that service fees apply.
King Leopold's 'personal colony', based on ruthless exploitation and violence, was annexed by the Belgian State in 1908, after years of heavy criticism both in the country and abroad. The new authorities eliminated the extreme forms of violence and extortion prevalent in Leopoldian Congo, but coercive practices remained, including forced recruitment of labourers. The effects royal voyages had on the Congolese themselves are extremely difficult to assess. The domestic political tensions relating to the Question royale might explain the relative discretion of the Belgian authorities. The development of photography and film had important effects on the staging and impact of royal and princely voyages. During the interwar period, royal and princely voyages gradually opened up to propaganda through press articles and images, but distrust of or lack of interest by the media persisted. From 1960, the international significance of royal visits to the Congo of course changed drastically.
Almost five hundred years separate the end of Roman rule and the formation of the medieval principalities whose gradual amalgamation would eventually lead, many centuries later, to contemporary Belgium. Traditionally, these so-called Barbarian or Dark Ages have been depicted in harsh contrast with the preceding so-called civilized Roman world. In recent decades, however, medievalists have thoroughly revised this gloomy picture. Rejecting the idea of an abrupt break between Roman and post-Roman times, they now rather observe complex transitions and some measure of continuity between both periods. Important changes undoubtedly took place during the epoch of the Frankish kingdoms. Urban life and monumental stone architecture receded (but did not disappear); artistic expression diverged from the classical canons; Christianity supplanted paganism, etc. But by focusing on spectacular changes such as these, one misses other crucial points: not all Roman institutions vanished suddenly; economic life was not uniformly miserable and trade was far from insignificant; Catholicism did not swiftly replace old creeds and cults; literacy did not disappear and was not limited to clerical elites. Written sources dating from the fifth to the tenth century are certainly far less numerous than those from the later Middle Ages, characterized by an impressive révolution de l’écrit; but for the “Belgian” territories they are unquestionably more abundant than those dating from Roman times. Chronicles, saints’ lives, polyptychs (inventories of goods of large rural domains), charters, diplomas, and even correspondence offer far more than a superficial glimpse of life in the Frankish kingdoms – even if historians have to demonstrate great critical acumen to distinguish forged from authentic records, or to distil reliable “facts” from hagiographies replete with legendary tales. Archaeology also produced startling new insights. Cemeteries, in particular, have yielded a wealth of information: most fifth- to seventh-century objects that we know of today – weapons, jewels, clothing articles, utensils for everyday life, etc. – have been found in graves. New approaches to textual evidence, in combination with material culture studies and (landscape) archaeology have led to a thorough re-evaluation of the Early Middle Ages, a complex period deserving more than worn-out clichés.
A Belgian citizen dying in 1840 at the age of eighty lived through a long period of political turmoil. During his lifetime, he or she was the subject of no less than four Austrian Habsburg emperors (1760s–1794), of the French Emperor Napoleon I (1804–1814), of the king of the United Kingdom of the Netherlands (1814/1815–1830), and finally of the first king of the Belgians (1831–). In between, he was also ruled by two non-monarchical systems: an ephemeral independent “Belgian” republic in 1790, and the successive French republican regimes during the years 1794–1804, preceding Napoleon’s imperial rule. But underneath the surface of these seemingly volatile political events, lay a coherent pattern of recurring issues. Four crucial questions caused fierce confrontations. Some had existed for centuries, while others were more recent; but during the period under consideration, they all witnessed a decisive breakthrough. After fifty years of dramatic changes, the society and body politic of this small part of Europe had irrevocably changed.
In 1700 the last king of the Spanish Habsburg monarchy died. After a turbulent and complex period (1702–1713) the Spanish Netherlands eventually became a possession of Charles II’s Austrian cousins. This transfer of sovereignty was the result of a long war, the last one in a series of wars that had afflicted the Southern Low Countries from 1621 (see Chapter 5). The Austrian period in “Belgian” history, presented here, began in 1713 and ended in 1794. In sharp contrast with the previous century, it was a period of peace, with the exception of four years in the 1740’s and 1787–1794. The political and social changes leading to the revolutions and the revolutionary wars that ended the Austrian regime, are discussed in chapter 7: they were part of what the British historian Eric Hobsbawm has called “The Age of Revolution” (1789–1848).
In over a century and a half, about fifteen principalities and cities in the Low Countries, from Arras and Luxemburg in the south to Amsterdam and Groningen in the north were unified under one ruler. Burgundy and Franche-Comté in eastern France were also part of this new polity. Dynastic politics were the major factor in the state building. Princes of the French Valois dynasty started this process around 1400, and this evolution was completed by their German-Habsburg successors between 1520 and 1550. The Low Countries (and thus Belgium) became part of the huge Habsburg monarchy.
Despite (or due to?) increasing globalization and intensifying transnational links, nation-states still dominate both the political scene and people’s minds. In a not-so-distant past, observers and scientists alike had written off this phenomenon, but the recent surge in nationalistic ideology, activism, and policy has proven these claims to be false or at least premature. Far from becoming irrelevant, nation-states are still alive and strong. However, their structural flaws are also undeniable. One is a lack of internal coherence – and here Belgium offers an interesting case in point. In the first decades of the twenty-first century, important European nation-states struggle with serious “domestic” problems: Spain, for instance, vetoes Catalonia’s independence, while the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland is confronted with Scottish nationalism and the Ulster problem. But no EU member experiences such existential threats as Belgium. Chapter 10 pointed out that its very survival is a matter of serious political debate, not just of theoretical speculation. Top politicians, opinion leaders, scholars, and ordinary citizens – all wonder whether this country, torn apart by unrelenting struggles between language communities, will be able to celebrate its two hundredth anniversary in 2030.
Dating back to Celtic times, the words “Belgium” and “Belgians” are indeed very ancient, but this antiquity is wholly fallacious if one wants to understand the genesis of the contemporary nation-state that carries this name. These terms do not, in any way, reflect some remote historical antecedents of the country founded in 1830. In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, however, many Belgian patriots – historians, politicians, artists, teachers, and other opinion makers – were enthralled by the abundant mentions of these “Belgians” in Julius Caesar’s De Bello Gallico, the well-known report of his bloody conquest of Gaul. In their eyes, these references clearly proved the age-old existence of a “Belgian identity,” or at least of some of its constitutive elements. Of course, nowadays no one seriously refers to “Ancient Belgians” as the “ancestors” of the contemporary people of this nation. But that does not mean that these early times are irrelevant. On the contrary: the prehistoric, Celtic, and Roman legacies played a role in shaping the territories that were to form today’s Belgium.
The revolutions sweeping through the old continent in 1830 had many repercussions. One was the birth of a new nation-state, Belgium, which had not gone unnoticed on the wider European scene. As we have seen, the Great Powers had carefully monitored the diplomatic aspects of this process. But even after its creation, this new country still occupied a unique position in the international arena. Of course, small and neutral Belgium could not play an active role on the global stage, but foreign capitals kept a watchful eye on it because it remained an important element in the European balance of power.
After centuries of state formation, fourteenth-century “Belgium” consisted of three duchies (Brabant, Limburg, and Luxemburg), three counties (Flanders, Hainaut, and Namur), a prince-bishopric (Liège) and some smaller territories. The names and, in some measure, also the territories of the present-day Belgian provinces refer to these historical principalities. The dukes, counts, and prince-bishops were vassals of the French king or the German king-emperor (medieval German kings often bore the title of Holy Roman Emperor; for simplicity’s sake we only use the title of (Holy Roman) Emperor in this and the following chapters). The counts of Flanders and Hainaut were vassals of both the French king and the emperor. The power of counts and dukes very much depended on the monarch’s (in)ability to check their ambitions (see Map 3.1).
While he lived in Brussels between 1864 and 1866, the French poet Charles Baudelaire wrote a pamphlet later known as Pauvre Belgique! (“Poor Belgium!”). In this unfinished work, he expressed his aversion for the country and its inhabitants. He presented Belgium as a pretentious “homunculus” – an artificially created small human being – that was “the outcome of an alchemical operation of diplomacy.” According to him, the Belgians were lazy, avaricious, stupid, and conformist – somewhere “between the ape and the mollusc.” This rather harsh judgment may have sprung from his personal frustrations; at that time, he was confronted with financial, personal, and health problems. Nevertheless, the idea that Belgium was an artificial creation was by no means a Baudelairian idiosyncrasy. As we saw earlier, other prominent European personalities – including leading politicians – shared this view.
Until well into the twentieth century, writing “national history” hardly required any justification. On the contrary: for more than a century and a half, it was generally considered a supreme achievement in a successful historian’s career. However, the last few decades have profoundly changed the game, with the breakthrough of new and thrilling approaches to the human past, for instance global, connected, or transnational history. Today, this “old” branch of historiography hardly yields academic glory; it has even fallen into deep disrepute. According to the French historian Nicolas Offenstadt national history is “an ideological instrument, similar to the discourse on national identity. This type of synthesis seems problematic to me, it always sounds false” (cited by the newspaper Le Monde [des Livres], 30 November 2012). This is just one (harsh) expression of the critical stance of many contemporary scholars toward this genre. Obviously, the present Concise History of Belgium needs some clarification – if not an apology.
Until 1555 the Netherlands were part of Charles V’s multinational Habsburg Empire. Charles clearly considered the Spanish kingdoms, especially Castile, the core of his monarchy. However, Charles traveled continuously throughout his vast territories and personally participated in many wars, from west and central Europe to North Africa. Despite his long absences, his subjects in the Low Countries accepted Charles as their rightful and “natural” sovereign. His son, Philip II (r. 1555–1598), on the other hand, was born and educated in Spain. During his forty-four-year rule, Philip spent less than five years away from the Iberian Peninsula.