I am sitting beneath a crucified Jesus. All around me there is Jesus, suffering and nude. A girl in black leather pants and neon shoes walks by - I must be in a relic of the past. A baroque Catholic church replete with saints and Mary's, candles, columns and donation boxes, carved stone and textile walls, stained glass and a grandiose overhead; and it is empty - but for two women browsing and two men in silence. Is it fair to call this antiquated, when people don't pray but take pictures?

I believe Holland has no churches like this. There the Franco-Spanish Catholic influence didn't seep into its culture the way it did here in Belgium. This church that I am in, a place of exclusive faith, is the maker of difference. Indeed, in many ways exclusion makes history.

When Catholocism excluded all other faiths, Protestants flocked to the Netherlands. When the Hasburgs privileged French-speakers, they excluded Dutch-speakers from the prestige of their own land. Because today, the French-speaking Belgian government refuses to cooperate with the Flemish majority party, a stalemate threatens the nation with political vulnerability.

This morning we were given a lecture on the history and culture of Belgium, past and present. When I leave this church we will visit the Parliament[, where red means the Senate, green means the House, security is high and speakers are symbolic].

Some opinionated questions:

1. Is the French-speaking government stubborn and unjust for refusing to cooperate?
2. Will the increasing wealth of Flanders bring more Dutch-speakers to Brussels, as was the case with the Walloons during their reign of economic prosperity? I am suggesting a potential process of reverse-"Frenchification" and pondering its consequences on the Flemish separatist movement.
3. As a student of Dutch, am I hopelessly biased?