
Herman Van Rompuy. Get used to the name. He is the first President of the  European Union, which with the ratification of the Treaty of Lisbon by all the  27 EU member states in early November was transformed into a genuine United  States of Europe.
The President of Europe has not been elected; he was  appointed in a secret meeting of the heads of government of the 27 EU member  states. They chose one of their own. Herman Van Rompuy was the Prime Minister of  Belgium. I knew him when he was just setting out, reluctantly, on his political  career.
To understand Herman, one must know something about Belgium, a  tiny country in Western Europe, and the prototype of the EU. Belgians do not  exist as a nation. Belgium is an artificial state, constructed by the  international powers in 1830 as a political compromise and experiment. The  country consists of 6 million Dutch, living in Flanders, the northern half of  the country, and 4 million French, living in Wallonia, the southern half. The  Belgian Dutch, called Flemings, would have preferred to stay part of the  Netherlands, as they were until 1830, while the Belgian French, called Walloons,  would have preferred to join France. Instead, they were forced to live together  in one state.
Belgians do not like their state. They despise it. They say  it represents nothing. There are no Belgian patriots, because no-one is willing  to die for a flag which does not represent anything. Because Belgium represents  nothing, multicultural ideologues love Belgium. They say that without  patriotism, there would be no wars and the world would be a better place. As  John Lennon sang “Imagine there’s no countries, it isn’t hard to do, nothing to  kill or die for, and no religion too.”
In 1957, Belgian politicians stood  at the cradle of the European Union. Their aim was to turn the whole of Europe  into a Greater Belgium, so that wars between the nations of Europe would no  longer be possible as there would no longer be nations, the latter all having  been incorporated into an artificial superstate.
A closer look at  Belgium, the laboratory of Europe, shows, however, that the country lacks more  than patriotism. It also lacks democracy, respect for the rule of law, and  political morality. In 1985, in his book De Afwezige Meerderheid (The Absent  Majority) the late Flemish philosopher Lode Claes (1913-1997) argued that  without identity and a sense of genuine nationhood, there can also be no  democracy and no morality.
One of the people who were deeply influenced  by Dr. Claes’s thesis was a young politician named Herman Van Rompuy. In the  mid-1980s, Van Rompuy, a conservative Catholic, born in 1947, was active in the  youth section of the Flemish Christian-Democrat Party. He wrote books and  articles about the importance of traditional values, the role of religion, the  protection of the unborn life, the Christian roots of Europe and the need to  preserve them. The undemocratic and immoral nature of Belgian politics repulsed  him and led to a sort of crisis of conscience. Lode Claes, who was near to  retiring, offered Herman the opportunity of succeeding him as the director of  Trends, a Belgian financial-economic weekly magazine. It is in this context that  I made Herman’s acquaintance. He invited me for lunch one day to ask whether, if  he accepted the offer to enter journalism, I would be willing to join him. It  was then that he told me that he was considering leaving politics and was  weighing the options for the professional life he would pursue.
I am not  sure what happened next, however. Maybe word had reached the leadership of the  Christian Democrat Party that Herman, a brilliant economist and intellectual,  was considering leaving politics; perhaps they made him an offer he could not  refuse. Herman remained in politics. He was made a Senator and entered  government as a junior minister. In 1988, he became the party leader of the  governing Christian-Democrats.
Our paths crossed at intervals until 1990,  when the Belgian Parliament voted a very liberal abortion bill. The Belgian King  Baudouin (1930-1993), a devout Catholic who suffered from the fact that he and  his wife could not have any children, had told friends that he would “rather  abdicate than sign the bill.” The Belgian politicians, convinced that the King  was bluffing, did not want the Belgian people to know about the King’s  objections to the bill. I wrote about this on the op-ed pages of The Wall Street  Journal and was subsequently reprimanded by the Belgian newspaper I worked for,  following an angry telephone call from the then Belgian Prime Minister, a  Christian-Democrat, to my editor, who was this Prime Minister’s former  spokesman. I was no longer allowed to write about Belgian affairs for foreign  newspapers.
In April 1990, the King did in fact abdicate over the  abortion issue, and the Christian-Democrat Party, led by Herman Van Rompuy, who  had always prided himself on being a good Catholic, had one of Europe’s most  liberal abortion bills signed by the college of ministers, a procedure provided  by the Belgian Constitution for situations when there is no King. Then they had  the King voted back on the throne the following day. I wrote about the whole  affair in a critical follow-up article for The Wall Street Journal and was  subsequently fired by my newspaper “for grievous misconduct”. A few weeks later,  I met Herman at the wedding of a mutual friend. I approached him for a chat. I  could see he felt very uncomfortable. He avoided eye contact and broke off the  conversation as soon as he could. We have not spoken since.
Herman’s  political career continued. He became Belgium’s Budget Minister and Deputy Prime  Minister, Speaker of the Chamber of Representatives and finally Prime Minister.  He kept publishing intellectual and intelligent books, but instead of defending  the concept of the good, he now defended the concept of “the lesser evil.” And  he began to write haiku.
Two years ago, Belgium faced its deepest  political crisis ever. The country was on the verge of collapse following a 2003  ruling by its Supreme Court that the existing electoral district of  Brussels-Halle-Vilvoorde (BHV), encompassing both the bilingual capital Brussels  and the surrounding Dutch-speaking countryside of Halle-Vilvoorde, was  unconstitutional and that Parliament should remedy the situation. The ruling  came in response to a complaint that the BHV district was unconstitutional and  should be divided into a bilingual electoral district Brussels and a  Dutch-language electoral district Halle-Vilvoorde. This complaint had been  lodged by… Herman Van Rompuy, a Flemish inhabitant of the Halle-Vilvoorde  district.
In 2003, however, the Christian-Democrats were not in  government and Herman was a leader of the opposition. His complaint was intended  to cause political problems for Belgium’s Liberal government, which refused to  divide the BHV district because the French-speaking parties in the government  refused to accept the verdict of the Supreme Court. The Flemish  Christian-Democrats went to the June 2007 general elections with as their major  theme the promise that, once in government, they would split BHV. Herman  campaigned on the issue, his party won the elections and became Flanders’  largest party.
Belgium’s political crisis dragged on from June until  December 2007 because it proved impossible to put together a government  consisting of sufficient Dutch-speaking (Flemish) and French-speaking (Walloon)  politicians. The Flemings demanded that BHV be split, as instructed by the  Supreme Court; the Walloons refused to do so. Ultimately, the Flemish  Christian-Democrats gave in, reneged on their promise to their voters, and  agreed to join a government without BHV being split. Worse still, the new  government has more French-speaking than Dutch-speaking ministers, and does not  have the support of the majority of the Flemings in Parliament, although the  Flemings make up a 60% majority of the Belgian population. Herman became the  Speaker of the Parliament. In this position he had to prevent Parliament, and  the Flemish representatives there, from voting a bill to split BHV. He succeeded  in this, by using all kinds of tricks. One day he even had the locks of the  plenary meeting room changed so that Parliament could not convene to vote on the  issue. On another occasion, he did not show up in his office for a whole week to  avoid opening a letter demanding him to table the matter. His tactics worked. In  December 2008, when the Belgian Prime Minister had to resign in the wake of a  financial scandal, Herman became the new leader of the predominantly  French-speaking government which does not represent the majority of Belgium’s  ethnic majority group. During the past 11 months, he has skillfully managed to  postpone any parliamentary vote on the BHV matter, thereby prolonging a  situation which the Supreme Court, responding to Herman's own complaint in 2003,  has ruled to be unconstitutional.
Now, Herman has moved on to lead  Europe. Like Belgium, the European Union is an undemocratic institution, which  needs shrewd leaders who are capable of renouncing everything they once believed  in and who know how to impose decisions on the people against the will of the  people. Never mind democracy, morality or the rule of law, our betters know what  is good for us more than we do. And Herman is now one of our betters. He has  come a long way since the days when he was disgusted with Belgian-style  politics.
Herman is like Saruman, the wise wizard in Tolkien’s Lord of  the Rings, who went over to the other side. He used to care about the things we  cared about. But no longer. He has built himself a high tower from where he  rules over all of us.