Ohdon’t One of the main benefits of Britain’s exit from the European Union, at least for residents of Brussels, was that Nigel Farage had all but disappeared from the city’s parliament, pubs and lecture circuit. The braggart Brexiteer’s return to the Belgian capital on April 16 will have done little to rekindle his passion for the place. Like the old one European deputy Addressing several hundred fellow far-right travelers at a conference, Belgian police stormed the scene with orders to stop the event. Outnumbered, the cops eventually retreated quietly, allowing Mr Farage to deliver a few more jokes about dirty Eurocrats and fake news media. After some back and forth, the police chose to seal off the conference venue, leaving the afternoon speakers stuck outside and, worse still, for the participants, including Charlemagne, the caterers unable to deliver food. the food. Don’t worry: the lunch was replaced by a harsh sermon from Suella Braverman, former British Home Secretary, on the cowardice of human rights lawyers.
The half-hearted police raid on a reactionary gabfest was the culmination of a series of disconcerting events surrounding the “National Conservatism” conference on April 16-17. At the ninth such jamboree, organized by the Edmund Burke Foundation, an American organization, the star attraction of this iteration was Viktor Orban, the proudly illiberal prime minister of Hungary. Not surprisingly, some speakers expressed views outside the centrist consensus, even though they were supported by many voters. This lese-liberalism has sent local Belgian authorities on a misguided mission to prove that the “cancel culture” decried by conservatives is more than just a conspiracy. A policy that aims to exclude far-right parties from coalition governments, known as sanitary cordonmetastasized into an ugly variant in which simply expressing such ideas is out of reach.
The first signs of trouble came days before the event, when its original venue, a posh set of heavily gilded rooms near the EU The institutions used by political parties and diplomats for their own parties have decided to eliminate conservatives. One of the 19 district mayors of Brussels had raised fears of “anti-fascist” demonstrations, arguing that security was impossible to ensure. This is clearly absurd. Brussels hosts dozens of summits bringing together major players who do not encounter such problems. Policing had also not been an issue when the national conservative group held a similar event at the same location in 2022. As disconcerting as this display of censorship was, other things were to follow. A backup venue in Brussels was booked in a cavernous Sofitel near the European Parliament, also well accustomed to political conferences. While the conservative organizers were setting up their stage the day before the event, another Brussels district mayor tried to expel them, proud of having ruined the conference of people with whom he I didn’t agree.
This is how the homeless nationalists found themselves cramped at Claridge, a former nightclub transformed into a concert hall and part-time conference room (no connection to the luxury London hotel, nor anything fancy). If the site initially reserved was the Ritz of political meetings, it was more like a roadside motel, wedged between a flea market and a kebab shop in the poorest district of Belgium; Upcoming events include a Shrek-themed rave (“Bring out your inner ogre!”). Even then, yet another mayor of Brussels sent the police.
The off-stage hullabaloo spiced up what was otherwise predictable globalist bashing fare. The speakers who were able to attend – Eric Zemmour, a French arsonist, was among them although barred by police on the first day – delivered platitudes about family values and bent elites. Among the forces to be fought: the European Parliament, the European Commission, the mainstream media, polite society, UNimmigrants, politically correct, NGOs, “Bolshevikism,” George Soros and green regulations. Topics favored by conference speakers included Claridge’s freedom-loving owners, farmers, Donald Trump, national sovereignty, motherhood and “the will of the people.” Any kind of speech that a liberal society shouldn’t be able to tolerate was noticeably absent, as was lunch (which came later, because even conservatives can’t stand a lot of self-sacrifice).
Conservatives at the gates
Charlemagne does not take much of the ideas presented at the conference. Many well-meaning speakers, especially Americans, do not seem to realize that their Hungarian patrons (who helped fund the event) are abusing their conservative ideology, using it as a cover to build a system of patronage benefiting insiders. friends. Some, like Mr. Zemmour, have truly reprehensible opinions. But being wrong is their business, and not that of the thought police or the Brussels variant. Fortunately, heavy-handed censorship proved surmountable. At the end of the first day of the conference, Alexander De Croo, the Belgian prime minister, denounced attempts to shut it down as “unacceptable.” An overnight court ruling overturned the initial order to ban the event. Spurred by the furor over his liberal enemies’ efforts to silence him, Mr. Orban was able to address his fans, railing against the EU and the very liberal standards which (belatedly) guaranteed his right to speak.
Stuck between the hubbub of the police blocking the room and the conservatives being persecuted inside, your columnist was able to chat for a few minutes with the owner of Claridge. A first-generation Tunisian migrant, Lassaad Ben Yaghlane has been running the place with his family for a decade. When he got the call to host the event, he thought twice before accepting, then decided there could be no harm in providing anyone with a room to debate. The conservative organizers were very polite, he said. Didn’t it bother him that some speakers spouted rhetoric denigrating migrants from a stage he provided for them? The 59-year-old shrugged his shoulders and asked, “What is a democracy if you say, ‘You can listen to this guy but not that guy’?” »■