Claude Desama is a Belgian academic and politician. He obtained a PhD in philosophy and letters from the University of Liège and has been a professor there since 1984, teaching Economic and Social History as well as the History of Europe. He also served as Director of the Research Institute on European Societies at the university.
In addition to his academic career, Professor Desama was active in politics with the Socialist Party, serving as a member of the European Parliament from 1988 to 2001, where he held several leadership roles in committees related to energy, research, and technology. He is recognized as an honorary extraordinary professor at the Faculty of Philosophy and Letters at the University of Liège.
Claude Desama is a notable researcher and politician, with significant European parliamentary experience. Grégoire Canlorbe recently sat down with him for a wide-ranging and insightful discussion.
Grégoire Canlorbe (GC): Born to a father who was railway official and a mother who was textile worker, you spent your youth in Ensival, a municipality that would later merge with Verviers (Belgium). Your long career has been both academic and political: a professor at the University of Liège, you were also the mayor of Verviers and a member of the European Parliament, as well as chairman of the Committee on Energy, Research and Technology. And you are an Officer of the Legion of Honor. How did you make the transition from university teaching to European politics?
Claude Desama (CD): Well, actually, my career began at university, where I became involved in scientific research in economic history. I followed the traditional academic path: first as an assistant, then as a senior lecturer, then as a lecturer, and finally as a full professor.
But at the same time, I was always active in politics. As soon as I entered university in 1961, I joined the Socialist Party, in which I immediately became involved.
In the early 1970s, I became president of the Verviers Federation of the Socialist Party. I was not yet 30 at the time (I was born in 1942). In 1979, the first elections to the European Parliament were held. At that time, the president of the Socialist Party, André Cools, with whom I was in regular contact (I was part of the party’s think tank) asked me to stand as a substitute candidate. He said to me: “You are well known in academic circles, which is an interesting constituency for the left.” I accepted and became the second substitute. So, I did not take my seat in 1979.
In the following elections, in 1984, I became first substitute. The party president at the time was Guy Spitaels, with whom I had a very friendly and close relationship. I was one of his close advisers. That said, I had no intention of pursuing a political career. Above all, I wanted to devote myself to my academic career. For me, politics was a passion, almost a hobby.
But in 1988, shortly before the end of the European parliamentary term, a socialist MEP, Anne-Marie Lizin, was appointed minister in the Belgian government. As first substitute, I was called upon to replace her in the European Parliament for the remainder of the term.
Then, in the 1989 elections, the party president asked me to stand as a Socialist candidate. I was fourth on the list, so I didn’t have high hopes. But the Socialist Party was very successful, and I achieved a good personal score. So I found myself back in the European Parliament.
At that time, I had just been appointed full professor. So I had to reorganize my academic career to be able to take up this European mandate. It was certainly the one that appealed to me most, both intellectually and politically. I could have entered Belgian politics earlier, become a member of parliament, a senator or something else, but it was really Europe that fascinated me. I have always been deeply pro-European.
That is how I chose to combine these two vocations—academia and European politics—which has not always been simple or easy. But that is how I took my first steps into the European Parliament.
GC: On April 17, 2025, Mr. Trump met with Ms. Meloni to discuss, among other topics, trade relations between the US and the EU. In your opinion, is Ms. Meloni the most qualified person to speak on behalf of the EU?
CD: Oh, it’s definitely not Ms. Meloni. She is the head of government of one of the 27 countries of the European Union, but her political party is not part of the majority in the European Parliament. That majority is made up of the European People’s Party, the Socialists, and the Liberals. Ms. Meloni, on the other hand, is on the far right.
The most legitimate person—not the only one, but the best placed—to speak on behalf of Europe is obviously the President of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen. This is certainly one of the problems of the European Union—it is not always clear who truly represents Europe. In the past, there has been some rivalry between Ursula von der Leyen and Charles Michel, the President of the European Council. But according to the treaties, it is the President of the Commission who is the most authoritative figure to speak on behalf of Europe. And today, that is Ursula von der Leyen.
GC: What do you think of the speech given by US Vice President Vance at the Munich Security Conference? He said that the main threat to the EU is not China or Russia, but the erosion of certain freedoms within the EU itself, including freedom of expression.
CD: Well, I think Mr. Vance’s speech is typical populism and clearly belongs to the far right. Unlike Donald Trump, who seems to me to be more of a political comedian—a showman without any deep ideological convictions. But the people who surround him today, like Mr. Vance, belong to a much more assertive populist movement.
They are figures marked by strong nationalism, and that is what I mean when I talk about populism: a clear orientation toward the far right. Vance’s speech was very much in line with this.
It is also clear that he feels more sympathy for authoritarian regimes such as Russia, or even China—despite the trade war between them and the United States—than for democratic regimes. This affinity speaks volumes about his worldview.
GC: Do you approve of the Green Deal? Or do you see it as a factor contributing to the decline of European economies?
CD: In my view, the Green Deal represents an important moment in European politics. The direction is undoubtedly the right one. But in my opinion, it has been overly radical—and, above all, rushed. The European economy, like most economies around the world, was not ready to cope such a rapid ecological transition.
What was missing was simply giving it time. This transition should have been part of a long-term plan, with realistic efforts, instead of setting strict time goals—like, for example, “50% less by 2030.” This is too technocratic an approach, a theoretical vision that does not take sufficient account of economic and social realities.
We must not forget that the European economy has already been deeply shaken by the Covid-19 pandemic. It could not, on top of that, suddenly absorb such a profound change in the economic paradigm.
As an economic historian, I have studied the industrial revolution extensively. It took almost a century for it to really take hold and become the dominant model in Europe. Of course, there were early centers, such as the Verviers region, but the whole process took time. I’m not saying that it will take a century to make the ecological transition, but it’s clear that technological progress can’t be achieved with a wave of a magic wand.
We must therefore accept that this change will take time, while preparing for the inevitable consequences of climate change. In short, the Green Deal is a fine intellectual exercise and a necessary initiative, but it lacks pragmatism. We have greatly underestimated the time an economy needs to evolve in depth.
GC: Are you in favor of denuclearization at the same time as abandoning fossil fuels?
CD: I have always been in favor of nuclear energy. I think that, on this issue, we have been victims—at least in part—of a certain amount of ideological harassment from environmentalists. Since the 1980s, they have made the fight against nuclear power the core, even the foundation, of their political commitment. To tell the truth, this was what united the various environmentalist movements.
I can understand that, in the context of the time, their position made sense. Nuclear power is indeed a so-called “dual” technology: it can be used to produce energy for peaceful purposes, but it is also linked to nuclear weapons. Pacifism, which is very strong among environmentalists, naturally extended to a blanket opposition to all forms of nuclear power. But I think that was a mistake.
Nuclear energy offers a form of energy autonomy, or at least greater independence. The fact that we gave it up under ideological pressure from environmentalists—and with the complacency of many media outlets that widely relayed their message—was, in my opinion, a strategic mistake.
Europe, for its part, also backed down on this issue, largely under the influence of Germany. After the disasters in Chernobyl and, above all, Fukushima, the Germans decided to phase out nuclear power. And they exerted considerable pressure on the European Union to follow suit.
Today, I believe that almost everyone recognizes that this approach was a dead end. We have lost precious years.
GC: If we think in Marxist terms, what “class interest” would the petty bourgeoisie have in promoting environmentalism?
CD: I’m not sure it’s really in their interest to promote certain affinities that we see in bourgeois or “bobo” circles—a kind of adherence to power, rigid environmentalism, or even the dismantling of nuclear power.
Since the 1980s, with the rise of neoliberal thinking, we have seen the emergence of a more pronounced individualism, particularly among the petty bourgeoisie. Collective thinking has gradually lost its appeal in favor of a quest for personal happiness. This social class has gradually integrated itself into an intellectual elite that considers major social and industrial debates to be issues of the past.
This milieu was sensitive to issues of nature, biodiversity, and the “little birds,” as they say—a discourse that is still very common in the media. In fact, the media has amplified this trend. Who reads feature articles in newspapers today? It is no longer mainly the working classes, but rather this educated petty bourgeoisie, which has benefited greatly from the democratization of higher education.
Many were intellectually seduced by the environmental message. Not necessarily out of economic interest, but rather because it was fashionable—almost a form of intellectual snobbery. I saw this firsthand at university: most of my young colleagues were environmentalists. It was the flavor of the month, just as it was fashionable, just after the war, to be a little left-wing, even Marxist. These are intellectual fads, and I believe environmentalism is one of them.
That said, the environmental message contains important elements, of course. The excessive exploitation of natural resources is an indisputable fact. But today, many people realize that environmental ideology—its militant and dogmatic side—is sometimes disconnected from reality. In some cases, it can even contribute to Europe’s economic backwardness.
Take China, for example: it is one of the countries that invests the most in renewable energy. But it doesn’t stop there. It continues to develop nuclear power and to produce on a large scale. It is not guided by a utopian or overly idealized vision. And that is perhaps where the difference lies.
GC: How do you untangle the processes that led to Verviers becoming a jewel of the industrial revolution?
CD: Ah, you know, it was actually a combination of factors—a bit of good luck, but also very specific circumstances—that enabled Verviers to play a key role at the beginning of the industrial revolution.
As early as the 17th and 18th centuries, long before mechanization, Verviers already had a long history in the wool industry. There were weavers’ workshops, wool washers, carders. The city was then an important center for the manufacture of woven cloth.
Verviers manufacturers sold their products throughout Europe and some, such as the Simonis, Peltzer, and de Biolley families, amassed considerable fortunes. Thanks to their international contacts, particularly in England, they discovered the first technological advances in spinning and mechanical carding. They quickly realized that their own system, which was still artisanal and fragmented, had become obsolete.
At the time, the model was as follows: wool was purchased, often in England, washed in Verviers, then sent to the surrounding countryside where it was spun on spinning wheels in farms. The manufacturers then collected it, had it woven in small workshops, and resold the cloth.
At each stage, they captured the added value, but the process remained slow, unproductive, and dependent on many variables. The discovery of spinning and carding machines opened up new possibilities. By installing these machines in their own workshops, they could dispense with rural labor, produce in much greater quantities, and industrialize the entire chain.
This is how figures such as Simonis and de Biolley decided to invest. They even went so far as to bring the English engineer William Cockerill to Verviers, whom they attracted at great expense to install the first modern machines. As soon as he arrived, competition followed, and a veritable “industrial market” was established.
Very quickly, Verviers became a major industrial center, supported by cutting-edge technology and significant private capital, ready to invest in innovation. This allowed the city to remain at the forefront throughout the 19th century.
Another key factor, which I explored in my doctoral thesis, was the contribution of the rural population. With mechanization, the surrounding countryside lost a source of income: spinners were no longer needed. As a result, many young people left the Franchimont and Herve regions to seek work in Verviers. Thus, from 1800 to 1825, large factories were built to absorb this abundant and cheap labor. Young and poorly trained, these workers were “at the mercy of their employers,” as they say. And since Verviers had the technology, the capital, and inexpensive labor, it became very competitive on the international market.
For a long time, Verviers’ specialization in cloth was explained by the exceptional quality of the water in the Vesdre River, particularly for washing wool. In reality, it was not so much the quality of the water as its abundance that made the difference. The center of Verviers, now urbanized, was once crossed by several branches of the Vesdre River. Some of these are still present, underground. Industrialists even built a “factory canal” that crossed the Place des Martyrs, Rue du Collège, and other streets to reach the Vesdre River at Hodimont. The main wash houses and workshops were built around this canal.
Aware of the strategic importance of water, the industrialists of Verviers even lobbied for the construction of the Gileppe dam at the end of the 19th century. They feared both a shortage of water and increasing pollution from wool washing. This dam, which they actively supported, guaranteed them high-quality water, delivered directly through a system of pipes—a visionary project for its time.
GC: Writer and politician Victor Arnould recommended that the struggle between Capital and Labor take a negotiated and harmonized form, propelling capitalism forward rather than leading to its overthrow. This ally of the Verviers trade unions wrote in La Nation in 1892: “Yes, the struggle between these two classes is necessary; but if the struggle is inevitable, it must be regulated so that it is not harmful and destructive to either of these two classes. And that is why, through the representation of interests, we demand that, instead of pushing for the fusion and confusion of classes, interests, and tendencies, they be legally and regularly constituted opposite each other, so that their competition may serve the common good.” Do you think this is a viable concept?
CD: This image should be qualified, however. It is true that, compared to other industrial regions in Belgium—such as Hainaut, the coal mines, or the steel industry in Liège—Verviers experienced less violent social conflict. This was largely due to the particular nature of trade unionism in Verviers.
This trade unionism was initially extremely powerful: it was estimated that nearly 90 percent of textile workers were members of the union, which was the only union at the time. This almost unanimous representation gave the labor movement considerable strength—and employers were well aware of this.
But this strength was channeled by union leaders, such as Jean Roggeman, who favored dialogue and negotiation over direct confrontation. This does not mean that there were no conflicts. There were, and some were fierce. But the approach was different, more oriented toward compromise.
This culture of negotiation led to a historic moment—in 1906, Verviers saw the birth of what is probably the world’s first collective labor agreement. We looked for equivalents elsewhere, particularly in Europe, and found none at the time.
This agreement was a major social advance. It drastically limited child and women’s labor, introduced a weekly day off—which was not the norm—and reduced the working day to eight hours. A remarkable achievement for the time.
This agreement remained in force until 1934, when, in the context of the global economic crisis triggered by the depression of 1929, employers regained the upper hand and called several of these gains into question.
In short, there was no perfect agreement between unions and employers, but there has always been a common desire on both sides in Verviers to favor negotiation. This is what profoundly distinguishes the social history of Verviers from that of other industrial areas in the country.
GC: After its industrial and cultural heyday, which included prominent figures such as the poet Albert Bonjean and the painter Maurice Pirenne, what processes led to the decline of Verviers’ dynamism?
CD: The decline of Verviers began after World War II. In the immediate post-war period, there was a revival of activity in the textile sector, partly thanks to the Korean War. But by the mid-1950s—around 1955-1960—signs of a clear economic decline were apparent. This decline accelerated during the 1970s, which marked a real collapse for industry in Verviers—between 1970 and 1980, more than 15,000 jobs were lost.
But the causes of this decline actually go back much further, to the end of the 19th century—paradoxically, to a period when Verviers was still enjoying great prosperity. It was at this time that some Verviers industrialists began to favor the sale of yarn over finished fabrics, believing that yarn was more profitable. They therefore gradually shifted their production to semi-finished products.
This strategy continued during the interwar period and after 1945. But by then, the context had changed radically. Producers in Verviers found themselves facing competition they had never experienced before, particularly from synthetic fibers, which were often produced in Italy, were less expensive, more varied, and better suited to modern textile uses.
This gradual loss of competitiveness can be explained in large part by two major strategic errors.
The first was that they failed to adapt. They remained focused on yarn production without reorienting their model towards higher value-added products or textile innovation.
The second was that they stopped investing. This ties in with an idea developed by Austrian economist Joseph Schumpeter in his theory of three generations: the first is that of pioneers, the second that of developers, and the third—which causes companies to fail—that of heirs who spend without reinvesting. In Verviers, this third generation seems to have dominated: from the interwar period onwards, and even more so after the Second World War, investment dried up. Equipment remained outdated and technologically obsolete.
Verviers’ industrialists continued to spend—sometimes in other areas—but without renewing their production facilities. And since the vast majority of these were family businesses, often with limited financial resources, they were unable to make the transition or respond to international competition. As a result, they disappeared one after the other.
GC: Émile Verhaeren had no shortage of harsh words for the Belgian elite, writing in La Nation in 1891 that “minds are narrowing,” “expedient measures are replacing ideas,” “skill is mistaken for strength,” “petty and insignificant means are touted as the only suitable ones,” while “people are cautious and insinuating, and they arrange and mix things up, and everything is done halfway, three-quarters of the way, timidly, sparingly, with advances followed by retreats, with energy only in words.” Was this deleterious state of mind really characteristic of a certain form of capitalism?
CD: Verhaeren put his finger on a key issue: the predominance of family capitalism at the end of the 19th century. His criticism was mainly directed at ironmasters and industrialists in the coal mining sector, who relied on a model of small family businesses that were often inward-looking.
The situation in Verviers was slightly different. Manufacturers in Verviers had developed a specific strategy: social endogamy. In other words, people married within families from the same industrial background in order to consolidate and increase family capital. These marriage alliances strengthened industrial dynasties, giving rise to powerful clans—such as the Simonis, Peltzer and Biolley families—with greater financial resources than the coal mining entrepreneurs.
This may explain why Verviers, in the long term, fared better than other areas, such as the coal mining region. A similar dynamic can be seen in the steel industry in Liège, where William Cockerill’s son was able to invest in metallurgical production thanks to the capital accumulated by his family.
However, by the end of the 19th century, this model of family capitalism was clearly beginning to run out of steam. This was undoubtedly what Verhaeren sensed. At that time, a new type of capitalism emerged, driven by the banks. The creation of the Société Générale de Belgique marked a turning point—it gradually took control of the most fragile sector, coal, and invested heavily in steel.
But, remarkably, this banking capitalism made virtually no inroads into the textile sector. Why? Because the big textile industrialists (known as the “textiliens”) were fiercely opposed to opening up their capital. They were a social class apart, both in Verviers and in Ghent, for that matter. Their refusal to involve banks in their business isolated them and gradually weakened them. By turning in on themselves, they lost the ability to invest heavily at a time when modernization was becoming essential.
It is therefore reasonable to assume that if these industrialists had accepted the entry of bank capital into their sector earlier, the history of Belgian textiles would undoubtedly have been different.
GC: You mentioned earlier an Austrian economist, Joseph Schumpeter. What do you think of the theory of economic cycles developed by one of his compatriots, Ludwig von Mises, which attributes economic instability to the artificial increase in credit made possible by commercial banks’ right to lend part of their deposits?
CD: I’m not sure this analysis is entirely accurate, but there is undeniably some truth in this economic reasoning. What we are talking about here is the gradual financialization of capitalism. In other words, power has gradually shifted from business leaders to financiers, shareholders, and investors.
Today, business leaders are often employees themselves, subject to strict profitability targets. Their main mission is to generate high enough economic performance to satisfy the demands of shareholders, who expect returns of 10, 12, or even 13 percent on their initial investment.
It is this logic of financialization that underpins the globalization of trade. Not to improve the remuneration of labor, but to guarantee a better return on capital. The constant search for lower production costs has benefited capital, not labor.
Is this financialization at the root of economic crises? It is difficult to say categorically. The 1929 crisis, which was primarily a financial crisis, immediately springs to mind; but it was not the first:. Stock market crashes had already occurred before. In reality, these financial crises are often the consequences of crises of overproduction. And it was precisely this observation that gave rise to Keynes’ thinking, with his theory of investment regulation to prevent structural imbalances—particularly overproduction—that could lead to financial collapses.
Since then, the world has changed. And as soon as the need for capital increased, another logic took hold—a logic of financial profitability, increasingly disconnected from the traditional logic of productive economics.
GC: What would need to be done in Verviers to achieve what Donald Trump is doing in America, to make Verviers great again?
CD: This is a question I have asked myself throughout my twelve years as mayor of Verviers—can this city really be revived? And I believe that the answer is complex. You cannot rewrite history. Verviers certainly has certain assets, but it also suffers from a major handicap—its proximity to several large cities.
It is too close to Liège, too close to Maastricht, too close to Aachen—all larger cities that have rebuilt themselves around a modern urban fabric, mainly focused on the service sector. Verviers, on the other hand, has never really come to terms with its industrial past. For years, we continued to hope for a return of the textile industry. It was an illusion.
In the 1970s and 1980s, the city failed in its transition to a service economy. Many remained trapped in a form of paralyzing nostalgia that prevented them from envisaging a different future. When I became mayor in 2000, I realized how much this industrial past still weighed on people’s minds and held back initiatives to promote the service sector.
Another major obstacle is precisely this proximity to Liège. Relations between Liège and Verviers have always been tinged with rivalry, sometimes implicit, sometimes overt. And as Liège had much greater political clout, it attracted the majority of public investment and large-scale projects. A tram was built in Liège, not in Verviers. The Calatrava train station was built in Liège. It’s symbolic, but revealing.
In twenty to thirty minutes, residents of the Verviers district can reach Liège, which offers a denser and more attractive commercial infrastructure. This makes it all the more difficult for an autonomous economic hub to emerge in Verviers.
However, I believe that Verviers has potential. But the people of Verviers themselves need to realize this and show a little more local pride, a certain Verviers patriotism.
I launched a major project for a shopping center in the city center, but it never came to fruition. I faced fierce opposition, albeit from a minority, but they were very active. Part of the population was still clinging to the idea of a town of small shops, without realizing that these shops had once thrived thanks to the textile industry. Since its disappearance, the shopping streets (Spintay, Crapaurue, and others) have gradually emptied. The workers who frequented them, and their families, disappeared along with the industrial economy. That world no longer exists.
And today, the difficulty is twofold: not only are attitudes slow to change, but there is no longer a class of Verviers investors willing to bet on the city. Those who still have the means are investing elsewhere—in Liège, Brussels, sometimes even abroad. The local economic fabric has been depleted, and we now depend on investors from other regions, even other countries.
GC: How do you respond to the criticism sometimes leveled at social democracy, which argues that it has the unintended effect of suspending social mobility? In other words, it prevents the renewal of the financial and business elites and closes off any possibility for today’s working class to become tomorrow’s powerful elite. Among other examples, corporate tax, above a certain threshold, works against entrepreneurs who are just starting out and cannot afford such a high tax rate if they want to grow or even simply maintain their business; conversely, established companies generate enough revenue to continue growing (and avoid bankruptcy) despite the threshold in question.
CD: I think this phenomenon is somewhat exaggerated. The idea that elite renewal is blocked by a certain form of socialism—which, paradoxically, serves the interests of an existing dominant economic class by preventing its replacement by a new one—seems questionable to me.
This harks back to the theory of “creative destruction,” which argues that an existing industrial fabric must be destroyed in order to rebuild a new one. But I don’t really subscribe to this view. I don’t see how social democracy could be responsible for any kind of blockage.
On the contrary, social democracy has, in my view, been an extremely successful model. Between 1945 and 1980, Europe—and other parts of the world—experienced exceptional economic growth, based precisely on this model. It was characterized by a balanced relationship between private capital, investors, and the state as a strategist, following a logic inspired by Keynesian thinking.
It was within this framework that the foundations were laid for what is known as the welfare state: social security, public services, redistribution, and worker protection. This period was also marked by a significant reduction in social inequalities.
This model was undermined in the 1970s by two oil shocks, the collapse of the international monetary system, and, above all, the ideological emergence of neoliberalism, championed by thinkers such as Milton Friedman and Friedrich von Hayek. This shift was embodied politically by Reagan in the United States and Thatcher in the United Kingdom, whose clear objective was to dismantle the welfare state in order to give capital complete freedom, in the hope of reviving the economy.
It was this shift that profoundly transformed the economic and social balance. But I don’t see how social democracy, in this context, could have any responsibility for the disappearance or stagnation of the elites. On the contrary, it allowed for the rise of new social classes and a level of economic mobility that is hard to find today.
GC: How do you explain that Belgian fascism or Nazism failed to rise to power, and that Léon Degrelle failed to become the counterpart of Mussolini or Hitler?
CD: In Belgium, there was indeed a significant fascist threat. Fascism was firmly established in Flanders, particularly through the VNV (Vlaamsch Nationaal Verbond), a very influential far-right group. In Wallonia, too, the danger manifested itself, particularly with the rise of the Rexist movement during certain elections.
That said, Belgium seems to me to have resisted fascism better than other European countries. This resilience can largely be explained by a particular feature of Belgian society at the time: pillarization. This was a structure of social life organized around major ideological and institutional “pillars.”
First there was the socialist pillar, organized around the Belgian Workers’ Party, with its network of trade unions, mutual aid societies, insurance companies, provident funds, etc. Then there was the Christian (Catholic) pillar, which had a similar system: political parties, trade unions, youth organizations, mutual insurance companies, schools, etc. Finally, the Liberal Party, although somewhat more isolated, played a balancing role, sometimes allied with the socialists, sometimes with the Christians.
This pillar structure—although sometimes criticized—had the effect of strengthening social cohesion and providing the population with solid support networks, both socially and economically and culturally. It is this dense organizational fabric that, in my opinion, enabled Belgium to better resist the seductions of fascism, just as it was able to contain the influence of communism.
GC: The N-VA (Nieuw-Vlaamse Alliantie, New Flemish Alliance)) sees itself as the solution to what it describes as Belgium being caught between wokism and Islamism. How do you respond to this political argument?
CD: Listen, first of all, in my opinion, there are two myths that need to be debunked. The first concerns this vague and overused notion of “wokeness.” Honestly, I’m not really sure what it means. I’m familiar with deconstruction theories, postmodern thinking, and work promoting the subject and criticizing the limits of modernity—particularly when it comes to taking into account the rights and realities of minorities.
In my view, we need to distinguish this intellectual effort, which is sometimes profound and necessary, from certain forms of excessive, even pathological, activism that give a distorted image of this movement. I am thinking, for example, of certain excesses of movements such as MeToo, where we slip into a form of media hysteria that ultimately undermines the cause. But reducing all this to a single “woke ideology” is an oversimplification. Strictly speaking, there is no coherent or structured woke ideology. There is a plurality of critical currents and a variety of militant struggles in favor of minorities.
The second myth concerns Islamist terrorism. We must not exaggerate. It is true that in 2015, Verviers was the scene of a police operation in a building on Rue de la Colline, where individuals linked to a terrorist cell had taken up positions. But there has never been a structured Islamist network in Verviers. This was an isolated incident and does not reflect the local reality.
What we are seeing, however, and this is true in many European countries—in the Netherlands, Germany, and France—is a growing presence of Muslim communities in the population. This is the result of immigration, but also of greater demographic dynamism within these communities. Certain trends may be moving towards a more traditional form of Islam, which is sometimes a little rigid or closed, it is true. But to go from there to talking about an Islamist threat or a generalized risk is going too far.
In Belgium, the vast majority of Muslims are perfectly integrated. During my twelve years as mayor of Verviers, I had the opportunity to meet regularly with representatives of various mosques. The exchanges were always respectful, open, and constructive. There is no structural problem in Belgium with citizens of the Muslim faith.
GC: During the Belgian federal elections on June 9, 2024, Mr. Godefridi represented the N-VA as the lead candidate in Walloon Brabant. Do you think the N-VA has any chance of making inroads in Wallonia?
CD: The N-VA embodies a well-known form of Flemish nationalism. It must be said that nationalism has always been present in Flanders, and the N-VA has positioned itself as its main standard-bearer. However, it competes with Vlaams Belang, which takes a much more radical, even openly extremist line.
That said, the N-VA is by no means a model. It is a right-wing, conservative and strongly nationalist party. Admittedly, it does not go as far as Vlaams Belang, whose views could be described as fascist, but the N-VA remains an ideologically hardline party. However, it is representative of a significant portion of Flemish public opinion. In Wallonia, on the other hand, it has absolutely no impact, for one simple reason: the political traditions there are radically different.
From a cultural point of view, Wallonia and Flanders are not comparable. In Wallonia, there is no significant nationalist movement. The Walloons do not really cultivate a strong Walloon identity. In a way, this is one of their weaknesses: this lack of a strong attachment to their own collective identity. The Flemish, on the other hand, have a highly developed sense of identity.
I remember meetings with Flemish colleagues at a time when everyone was still perfectly bilingual. Some categorically refused to speak French, even at the highest academic level. They accepted English, but refused French—which we found surprising, to say the least. This is a concrete illustration of Flemish nationalism, which can sometimes be rigid, even domineering.
But it must be acknowledged that this nationalism has also had a mobilizing effect. It was partly this affirmation of identity that drove Flanders’ economic conversion after the Second World War. It was a political energy and a will to succeed that the Walloons have not always been able to match, or which they did not perceive with sufficient clarity at the time.
That said, the N-VA has no chance of gaining a foothold in Wallonia. Belgium is, in reality, two worlds, two political cultures, two parallel democracies. Flemish socialists are not the same as Walloon socialists; Flemish Christian socialists are different from their French-speaking counterparts. It is as unlikely to see a party like the Walloon PS succeed in Flanders as it is to see the N-VA establish itself in Wallonia in the long term.
GC: Would you say that the people of Verviers have shown resilience in the face of the severe weather they have had to endure?
CD: If you are referring to the floods of 2021, then yes, I can say that the people of Verviers responded with remarkable dignity and solidarity. They showed extraordinary courage in the face of such a brutal ordeal.
What struck me in particular was the calm and resilience they showed. Several people, remembering me as the former mayor, contacted me to ask for advice or help. And each time, I was touched by their attitude: they understood what had happened, they weren’t looking for someone to blame, they didn’t give in to anger towards politicians—who, in this particular case, were obviously not responsible for the disaster.
They could have been bitter or overwhelmed, but instead they showed incredible patience and commitment to the reconstruction effort. Their reaction inspired me with great admiration.
In my opinion, this shows a real strength of character that is unique to the people of Verviers. An ability to take hard blows without losing their cool, to stick together, and to keep moving forward.
Today, the city is slowly beginning to emerge from this difficult period. Although many problems remain to be solved, there is a sense that things are moving forward. But what strikes me most is the collective, dignified, and united response to a tragic situation. For that, I remain in awe.
GC: Thank you for your time. Would you like to add a word or two for the next generation of politicians?
CD: I must say that I am deeply concerned about the crisis currently facing the European left, a crisis that obviously also affects Belgium and, more specifically, Wallonia.
It is imperative that the left rediscover a genuine “software,” a coherent ideology and a voice capable of addressing not only the intellectual petty bourgeoisie—its usual audience—but also, and above all, the working classes. This essential link with those whom the socialist movement has historically defended must be reestablished.
This requires a genuine intellectual effort. The socialist movement must rediscover its doctrinal inspiration, a renewed vision, and a way of bringing to life, today, a progressive project that resonates with contemporary realities. Too often in recent years, socialist parties have seemed to run out of ideas. I am struck by how, in the 19th and early 20th centuries, socialists—the Vanderveldes and many others—constantly nourished doctrine, engaged in debate, and developed ideas. They thought about the world.
I, for my part, have known a generation of socialists who were more concerned with gaining and managing power. But the left is not just a method of management. It is above all a project for society. Once we abandon this project and settle for governing “like the right, but differently,” the left loses its soul, its identity—and its electorate.
Another problem is the growing focus on the concerns of the urban petty bourgeoisie, to the detriment of links with the working classes. This sociological shift, combined with the loss of ideological reference points, is contributing significantly to the weakening of the left.
What I say today to socialist leaders—and I say this all the more because I am still active in certain circles—is that the world has changed profoundly. The answers of the 1950s and 1960s are no longer adequate for today’s challenges. We need to think of concrete solutions and propose clear alternatives that are consistent with the fundamental values of socialism.
And then there is another essential requirement: that of setting an example. Politicians must be beyond reproach. As the Romans used to say, “Caesar’s wife must not be suspected.” This remains true today. Setting an example is a prerequisite for credibility. And we must admit that in Wallonia, particularly within the Socialist Party, this requirement has not always been met. This is regrettable. And it has a real political cost.
