Wednesday was Belgium's National Day. A particularly sensitive National Day this year, since Belgium is (once again) hanging together by a thread. Following the June 13th election, where the Flemish separatists won a majority, they're still interviewing and reporting back to the King. We might have a government in the autumn if we're lucky. How did Cameron and Clegg manage to get a government together in a week?
Anyway, as McAnarchist is away on his hols and there was no threat of republican heckling, I decided to watch the King's televised addresses to his peoples. The plural is deliberate in both cases - he is not, please note, the King of Belgium, but King of the Belgians. Albert II is a people's monarch, like Mary, Queen of Scrotes (who was French) and the King of the Hellenes (who is Danish). My aunt who was something of a Mrs Malaprop used to refer to the "King of the Belgiums". She may turn out to be right in the end.
His pre-recorded address was broadcast at 3 p.m, like our own dear Queen on Christmas Day. He spoke very slowly, as he's getting on a bit and it takes him a while to read the autocue. There was an open door behind him - I don't know what that's supposed to indicate, maybe that he'll step down if surplus to requirements? Maybe my Belgian reader can enlighten us on that one. He did two versions, one in French and one in Flemish, which were broadcast on the relevant TV channels, and finished each one with a few sentences in German, as there is no Belgian TV channel for the very small German speaking minority. Awfully nice of him - you wouldn't get the Queen doing a version of her speech in Welsh. King Albert is, like our own dear royal family, descended from minor German nobility (the family name is Saxe-Coburg-Gotha) although the Belgian royals have had the sense to dilute the German blood over the years instead of topping it up.
Incidentally, our own dear Prince Charles is nearly 44% German, and William will be the first British monarch since Queen Anne to be less than a quarter German. From George I up until Edward VII, British monarchs were all 100% ethnically German. Edward VII married Alexandra of Denmark, which diluted the bloodline somewhat, but then George V undid all his good work by marrying Mary of Teck (Queen Mary), and our own dear Queen didn't help by marrying Philip von Battenberg.
Prince Harry is not ashamed of his German ancestry
The Belgian royals have intermarried with Swedish, Italian and Spanish gels. Philippe, the Crown Prince, is half Italian, a quarter Swedish and the rest is a jumble of German, Austrian and French. He was the first Belgian crown prince to marry a nice Belgian (Flemish) girl called Mathilde who doesn't advertise the fact that her mother is a Polish countess. Their children are therefore 25.78% Italian, 25% Flemish, 25% Polish, 12.5% Swedish, 7.82% German, 3.13% Austrian and 0.78% French, which I think qualifies them eminently to be monarchs of Belgium, which won't exist by then so it won't matter.
Anyway, back to the National Day. After the King's speech, there's a parade. I once went to watch it in person but couldn't see a thing because of the crowds. It is also traditional that the heavens open on the opening bars of "Lily the Pink". So this time I played it safe and bagged a front row seat on the sofa. The weather remained uncharacteristically clement. The sun shines on a crisis.
King Albert rode up the Rue de la Loi in an open sided jeep, with only two desultory looking bodyguards walking alongside, one carrying a briefcase. His No.2 son - the spare to the heir - arrived dressed in a navy uniform, looking suitably uncoordinated and a bit out of it, as behoves the second son of a monarch (cf. Princes Andrew and Harry). Prince Philippe, the heir to the throne who is known officially as the Duke of Brabant, arrived looking uncomfortable and affecting a stiff leg, with lovely smiling future Queen looking glam in red and smiling and waving a lot. I felt a vague sense of déjà vu. Aunty Fabiola, who's been receiving death threats from an unidentified nutter in recent years, stood out in a white trouser suit, so that her would-be assassin could get a better shot, although she refrained from waving an apple as she did last year, in what was apparently a reference to William Tell. She's one mischievous old gal, and my favourite Belgian royal.
There followed a military parade which was like Bastille Day in miniature, kicked off by a flyover of the palace by the Belgian Air Force's Mirage fighter jets leaving red, black and yellow vapour trails. Seconds later there was a roaring sound outside my window, and I just caught the tail end of the flypast as it banked around over my house. I get a bit of a frisson from jet engines at full throttle. I used to be a regular at the Paris Air Show, and once had to be prised off a Harrier Jump Jet. I can't resist a powerful thrust.
Ooooooooh ....
To remind us that we are under the Belgian presidency of the EU, there was a contingent of soldiers from all 27 member countries, trying to march in step together. I noticed some of them still tried to stand out from the crowd though - the French swinging their arms more vigorously, having warmed up on the Champs-Elysees the week before. The Poles were smartly turned out in their tight breeches but refrained from goose-stepping. The UK was at the back (they marched in alphabetical order). It was something of a metaphor for the European Union and a worrying presage of what an EU army might look like one day.
After that there were marchpasts by tough looking Belgian soldiers in camouflage gear and berets, looking like the typical bull-necked European legionnaires, all boots, berets and matching cravats. The army showed off their latest light armoured tanks, all the rage this season, and the navy their stylish new dinghys. A shock of special forces (that's the collective noun) rolled past in full body armour and balaclavas, hanging off a huge armoured BMW 4x4 with a nervous looking Belgian Malinois sitting on top (not wearing a balaclava). I wondered how they got away with the balaclavas, since the burqa has been banned in Belgium?
Rex (not his real name), the only member of the special forces I am allowed to show you
Towards the end, like the bride at a fashion show, came the star turn: a pan-European contingent of police cars, led proudly by a gorgeous 560 horsepower Lamborghini Gallardo LP560 sporting the blue and white livery of the Italian Polizia, which put all the Queens and Princesses on the podium in the shade. Apparently they use it for chasing speeding cars on the autostrada. Yeah, right. Crisa? Che? Ma non troppo.
The parade concluded with the Choirs of the European Union singing "Ode to Joy", the European Anthem, for which the King and Queen stood to attention. David Cameron should be so humble. Then followed the Belgian National Anthem, which took me quite by surprise. I'd always thought this was the Italian national anthem. I'm sure I heard it at the World Cup.
Anyway, as McAnarchist is away on his hols and there was no threat of republican heckling, I decided to watch the King's televised addresses to his peoples. The plural is deliberate in both cases - he is not, please note, the King of Belgium, but King of the Belgians. Albert II is a people's monarch, like Mary, Queen of Scrotes (who was French) and the King of the Hellenes (who is Danish). My aunt who was something of a Mrs Malaprop used to refer to the "King of the Belgiums". She may turn out to be right in the end.
His pre-recorded address was broadcast at 3 p.m, like our own dear Queen on Christmas Day. He spoke very slowly, as he's getting on a bit and it takes him a while to read the autocue. There was an open door behind him - I don't know what that's supposed to indicate, maybe that he'll step down if surplus to requirements? Maybe my Belgian reader can enlighten us on that one. He did two versions, one in French and one in Flemish, which were broadcast on the relevant TV channels, and finished each one with a few sentences in German, as there is no Belgian TV channel for the very small German speaking minority. Awfully nice of him - you wouldn't get the Queen doing a version of her speech in Welsh. King Albert is, like our own dear royal family, descended from minor German nobility (the family name is Saxe-Coburg-Gotha) although the Belgian royals have had the sense to dilute the German blood over the years instead of topping it up.
Incidentally, our own dear Prince Charles is nearly 44% German, and William will be the first British monarch since Queen Anne to be less than a quarter German. From George I up until Edward VII, British monarchs were all 100% ethnically German. Edward VII married Alexandra of Denmark, which diluted the bloodline somewhat, but then George V undid all his good work by marrying Mary of Teck (Queen Mary), and our own dear Queen didn't help by marrying Philip von Battenberg.
Prince Harry is not ashamed of his German ancestryThe Belgian royals have intermarried with Swedish, Italian and Spanish gels. Philippe, the Crown Prince, is half Italian, a quarter Swedish and the rest is a jumble of German, Austrian and French. He was the first Belgian crown prince to marry a nice Belgian (Flemish) girl called Mathilde who doesn't advertise the fact that her mother is a Polish countess. Their children are therefore 25.78% Italian, 25% Flemish, 25% Polish, 12.5% Swedish, 7.82% German, 3.13% Austrian and 0.78% French, which I think qualifies them eminently to be monarchs of Belgium, which won't exist by then so it won't matter.
Anyway, back to the National Day. After the King's speech, there's a parade. I once went to watch it in person but couldn't see a thing because of the crowds. It is also traditional that the heavens open on the opening bars of "Lily the Pink". So this time I played it safe and bagged a front row seat on the sofa. The weather remained uncharacteristically clement. The sun shines on a crisis.
King Albert rode up the Rue de la Loi in an open sided jeep, with only two desultory looking bodyguards walking alongside, one carrying a briefcase. His No.2 son - the spare to the heir - arrived dressed in a navy uniform, looking suitably uncoordinated and a bit out of it, as behoves the second son of a monarch (cf. Princes Andrew and Harry). Prince Philippe, the heir to the throne who is known officially as the Duke of Brabant, arrived looking uncomfortable and affecting a stiff leg, with lovely smiling future Queen looking glam in red and smiling and waving a lot. I felt a vague sense of déjà vu. Aunty Fabiola, who's been receiving death threats from an unidentified nutter in recent years, stood out in a white trouser suit, so that her would-be assassin could get a better shot, although she refrained from waving an apple as she did last year, in what was apparently a reference to William Tell. She's one mischievous old gal, and my favourite Belgian royal.
There followed a military parade which was like Bastille Day in miniature, kicked off by a flyover of the palace by the Belgian Air Force's Mirage fighter jets leaving red, black and yellow vapour trails. Seconds later there was a roaring sound outside my window, and I just caught the tail end of the flypast as it banked around over my house. I get a bit of a frisson from jet engines at full throttle. I used to be a regular at the Paris Air Show, and once had to be prised off a Harrier Jump Jet. I can't resist a powerful thrust.
Ooooooooh ....To remind us that we are under the Belgian presidency of the EU, there was a contingent of soldiers from all 27 member countries, trying to march in step together. I noticed some of them still tried to stand out from the crowd though - the French swinging their arms more vigorously, having warmed up on the Champs-Elysees the week before. The Poles were smartly turned out in their tight breeches but refrained from goose-stepping. The UK was at the back (they marched in alphabetical order). It was something of a metaphor for the European Union and a worrying presage of what an EU army might look like one day.
After that there were marchpasts by tough looking Belgian soldiers in camouflage gear and berets, looking like the typical bull-necked European legionnaires, all boots, berets and matching cravats. The army showed off their latest light armoured tanks, all the rage this season, and the navy their stylish new dinghys. A shock of special forces (that's the collective noun) rolled past in full body armour and balaclavas, hanging off a huge armoured BMW 4x4 with a nervous looking Belgian Malinois sitting on top (not wearing a balaclava). I wondered how they got away with the balaclavas, since the burqa has been banned in Belgium?
Rex (not his real name), the only member of the special forces I am allowed to show youTowards the end, like the bride at a fashion show, came the star turn: a pan-European contingent of police cars, led proudly by a gorgeous 560 horsepower Lamborghini Gallardo LP560 sporting the blue and white livery of the Italian Polizia, which put all the Queens and Princesses on the podium in the shade. Apparently they use it for chasing speeding cars on the autostrada. Yeah, right. Crisa? Che? Ma non troppo.
The parade concluded with the Choirs of the European Union singing "Ode to Joy", the European Anthem, for which the King and Queen stood to attention. David Cameron should be so humble. Then followed the Belgian National Anthem, which took me quite by surprise. I'd always thought this was the Italian national anthem. I'm sure I heard it at the World Cup.
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