Wallonia

Born to a father who was a railway official and to a mother who was a textile worker, Claude Desama spent his youth in Ensival, a municipality that would merge with Verviers. His long career is both academic and political: a professor at the University of Liège, he has also served as the burgomaster of Verviers and a member of the European Parliament, as well as the president of the Commission on Energy, Research, and Technology. He is an Officer of the Legion of Honor.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: How do you transition from university teaching to European politics?

  Claude Desama: Well, in reality, my trajectory began at the university, where I became involved in scientific research in economic history. I followed the classic academic path: first assistant, then head of studies, then lecturer, and finally full professor.
  But in parallel, I have always been active in politics. From my entry into university in 1961, I enrolled in 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 then not yet 30 years old—I was born in 1942. In 1979, the first elections for the European Parliament took place. 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 tanks—offered me the chance to be a substitute candidate. He said to me: “You are known in academic circles, it’s an interesting electorate for the left.” I accepted, and I became the second substitute. So I did not sit in 1979.
In the following elections, in 1984, I became the first substitute. The party president then was Guy Spitaels, with whom I had a very friendly and close relationship. I was one of his close advisors. That said, I had no intention of holding a political mandate at all. I wanted above all to dedicate myself to my academic career. For me, politics was a passion, almost a hobby.
  But in 1988, shortly before the end of the European legislature, a socialist MP, Anne-Marie Lizin, was appointed minister in the Belgian government. As the first substitute, I was then called to replace her in the European Parliament to complete the legislature.
  Then, in the 1989 elections, the party president asked me to be the socialist candidate. I was ranked fourth on the list, so I didn’t have much hope. But the Socialist Party achieved great success, and I got a good personal score. I therefore found myself again in the European Parliament.
 At that time, I had just been appointed full professor. I had to adjust my academic career to be able to take on this European mandate. It was certainly the one that attracted me the most, both intellectually and politically. I could have entered Belgian politics earlier, become an MP, senator, or others, but it was really Europe that fascinated me. I have always been deeply pro-European.
That’s how I chose to combine these two vocations—university and European politics—which has not always been simple or easy. But that’s how I took my first steps in the European Parliament.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: Today [April 17, 2025], Mr. Trump meets with Mrs. Meloni to discuss, among other topics, the trade relations between America and the EU. Do you think Mrs. Meloni is the most qualified to speak on behalf of the EU?

 Claude Desama: Oh! It is surely not Mrs. Meloni. She is the head of government of one of the 27 countries of the European Union, indeed, but her political party is not part of the majority in the European Parliament. This majority is composed of the European People’s Party, the socialists, and the liberals. Mrs. Meloni, on the other hand, is positioned more 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 actually represents Europe. There has been a certain rivalry in the past between Ursula von der Leyen and Charles Michel, the president of the European Council. But according to the treaties, it is indeed the president of the Commission who is the most authorized figure to speak on behalf of Europe. And today, that is Ursula von der Leyen.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: What do you think of the speech given by Mr. Vance, the American vice president, on the occasion of the Munich Security Conference? The main threat to the EU, he stated, is neither China nor Russia, but within the EU itself, the decline of certain freedoms—including free speech.

  Claude Desama: Well, I think Mr. Vance’s speech is typically populist and clearly leans toward the far right. Unlike, perhaps, Donald Trump, who seems more like a performer on the political stage—a showman, without very deep ideological convictions—the people who currently surround him, like Mr. Vance, belong to a much more pronounced populist movement.
  They are figures marked by strong nationalism, and that’s what I mean when I talk about populism: a clear orientation toward the far right. Vance’s speech was entirely in that direction.
  It is also evident that he feels more sympathy for authoritarian regimes like Russia or even China – despite the trade war that opposes them to the United States – than for democratic regimes. This affinity speaks volumes about his worldview.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: Do you approve of the Green Deal? Or do you see it as a factor in the decline of European economies?

  Claude Desama: The Green Deal represents, in my view, an important moment in European policy. The direction is good, without a doubt. But in my opinion, it has erred on the side of radicalism – and especially haste. The European economy, like most global economies, was not ready to endure an ecological transition conducted at breakneck speed.
 What was lacking was simply giving time to time. This transition should have been framed in a long-term perspective, planning efforts realistically, instead of setting rigid time-bound objectives—such as, for example, “a 50% reduction by 2030.” This is too technocratic an approach, a theoretical vision that does not sufficiently take into account 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, in addition, abruptly absorb such a profound change in the economic paradigm.
As an economic historian, I have worked a lot on the industrial revolution. It took nearly a century for it to truly take root and become the dominant model in Europe. Indeed, there were early hotspots, like the Verviers region, but the entire process took time. I am not saying it will take a century to achieve the ecological transition, but it is certain that technological progress cannot be decreed with a mere wave of a magic wand.
  Therefore, we must accept that this transformation will take time, while preparing for the inevitable consequences of climate disruption. In short, the Green Deal is a beautiful intellectual exercise, a necessary initiative, but it lacks pragmatism. We have underestimated the time an economy needs to evolve deeply.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: Are you in favor of simultaneous denuclearization alongside abandoning fossil fuels?

  Claude Desama: I have always been in favor of nuclear energy. I think that, on this subject, we have been victims—at least in part—of a certain ideological harassment from environmentalists. Since the 1980s, they have made the fight against nuclear power the core, even the founding pillar, of their political commitment. To be honest, that was what united the different environmental sensitivities.
I can understand that, in the context of the time, their position had some rationale. Nuclear energy is indeed a so-called “dual” technology: it can be used to produce energy peacefully, but it is also related to nuclear weapons. Pacifism, which is very strong among environmentalists, naturally extended to a global opposition to any form 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 renounced it, under the ideological pressure from environmentalists—and with the complacency of many media outlets that widely relayed their discourse—has been, in my opinion, a strategic error.
Europe, for its part, has also retreated on this issue, largely under the influence of Germany. After the disasters at Chernobyl and, especially, Fukushima, the Germans decided to abandon nuclear energy. They exerted significant pressure for the European Union to follow them in this direction.
Today, I believe that almost everyone recognizes that this orientation was a dead end. We lost precious years.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: If we reason in Marxist terms, what “class interest” would the petite bourgeoisie have in promoting environmentalism?

  Claude Desama: I’m not sure that it is truly in their interest to promote certain affinities observed in bourgeois or “bobo” circles—a form of adherence to power, a rigid environmentalism, or the dismantling of nuclear energy.
Since the 1980s, with the rise of neoliberal thought, we have seen a more pronounced individualism emerge, particularly within the petite bourgeoisie. Collective reflections have gradually lost their appeal, in favor of a quest for personal happiness. This social class has slowly integrated into an intellectual elite that viewed major social and industrial debates as issues of the past.
This milieu has been sensitive to questions of nature, biodiversity, and the “little birds,” as they say—a discourse that is still very frequently found in the media. Moreover, the media have amplified this trend. Who reads in-depth articles in newspapers today? It is no longer predominantly the working class or the lower classes, but rather this educated petite bourgeoisie, which has largely benefited from the democratization of higher education.
  Many have been intellectually seduced by the environmentalist message. Not necessarily out of economic interest, but rather because it was fashionable – almost a form of intellectual snobbery. At the university, I saw this up close: most of my young colleagues were environmentalists. It was in the air of the time, as it was fashionable, right after the war, to be a little left-wing, even Marxist. These are effects of intellectual trends, and I believe that environmentalism is one of them too.
That said, the environmental message contains important elements, of course. The excessive exploitation of natural resources is an undeniable fact. But today, many realize that the environmentalist ideology—its militant and dogmatic side—is sometimes disconnected from realities. It can even, in some cases, contribute to Europe’s economic stagnation.
  Take China, for example: it is one of the countries investing the most in renewable energies. But it does not stop there. It continues to develop nuclear energy; it continues to produce on a large scale. It does not let itself be guided by a utopian or overly idealized vision. And perhaps that is where the difference lies.

Grégoire Canlorbe: How do you untangle the processes that led to Verviers becoming a flagship of the industrial revolution?

  Claude Desama: Ah, you know, it is actually a conjunction of factors—a bit of chance, but also very specific contexts—that enabled Verviers to play a key role at the beginning of the industrial revolution.
As early as the 17th and 18th centuries, well before mechanization, Verviers already had a tradition in the wool industry. There were workshops of weavers, wool washers, carders… At that time, the city was an important center for the production of woven cloth.
  The Verviers manufacturers sold their products throughout Europe, and some, such as the Simonis, Peltzer, or de Biolley families, amassed significant fortunes. Thanks to their international contacts, notably in England, they discovered the first technological advances related to spinning and mechanical carding. They quickly realized that their own system, still artisanal and fragmented, had become archaic.
At the time, the model was as follows: wool was bought, often in England, washed in Verviers, then sent to the surrounding countryside where it was spun on a wheel in the farms. Then, the manufacturers would retrieve it, have it woven in small workshops, and resell the cloth. At each stage, they captured the added value, but the process remained slow, unproductive, and dependent on many uncertainties.
The discovery of spinning and carding machines opened up a new perspective for them: by installing these machines in their own workshops, they could do without rural labor, produce in much greater quantities, and industrialize the entire chain. This is how figures like Simonis and de Biolley decided to invest. They even went so far as to bring the English engineer William Cockerill to Verviers, whom they lured at great expense to set up the first modern machines. As soon as he arrived, competition followed, and a real ‘industrial market’ was established.
Very quickly, Verviers thus became a major industrial hub, supported by cutting-edge technology and the presence of significant private capital, ready to invest in innovation. This allowed the city to stay at the forefront throughout the 19th century.
Another essential factor, to which I dedicated my doctoral thesis, is the contribution of the rural population. With mechanization, the surrounding countryside lost a source of income: spinners were no longer needed. So, many young people left the land of Franchimont, the land of Herve, etc., to seek work in Verviers. This is how, from 1800-1825 onwards, large factories capable of absorbing this abundant and cheap labor were built. Young, unskilled, these workers were “available for work at all times,” as they used to say. And since Verviers had the technology, the capital, and a low-cost workforce, it became very competitive in the international market.
For a long time, Verviers’s specialization in cloth was explained by the exceptional quality of the water of the Vesdre, especially for washing wool. In reality, it was not so much the quality of the water that made the difference, but its abundance. The center of Verviers, now urbanized, was once crossed by several branches of the Vesdre. Some are still present, underground. The industrialists even built a “factory canal” that ran through the Place des Martyrs, the Rue du Collège, etc., to join the Vesdre at Hodimont. It was around this canal that the main laundries and workshops were established.
Aware of the strategic importance of water, the Verviers industrialists even pressured for the construction of the Gileppe dam at the end of the 19th century. They feared both a lack of water and increasing pollution from washing wool. This dam, which they actively supported, guaranteed them quality water, directly supplied through a piping system—a visionary project for the time.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: A writer and politician, Victor Arnould recommended that the struggle between Capital and Labor take a negotiated and harmonized form, which propels capitalism instead of leading to its overthrow. Thus, this companion of the Verviers unions wrote in 1892, in La Nation: “Yes, there is a necessity for the struggle of these two classes; but while the struggle is inevitably imposed, it must be regulated, so as not to be harmful and destructive to one of those two classes or the other. And it is for this reason that, through the representation of interests, we ask, instead of pushing for the fusion and confusion of classes, interests, and trends, that they be legally and regularly constituted facing each other, to ensure that their competition serves the common good.” Is this, in your opinion, a viable conception?

Claude Desama: This image certainly deserves to be nuanced. It is true that, compared to other industrial regions of Belgium—such as Hainaut, coal mining, or the Liège steel industry—Verviers experienced less violent social conflicts. This is largely due to the particular nature of Verviers’ trade unionism.
This unionism was first and foremost extremely powerful: it was estimated that nearly 90% of textile workers were affiliated with the union, which at the time was a single union. This near-unanimous representation gave the labor movement considerable strength—and the employers were perfectly aware of it.
But this strength was framed by union figures like Jean Roggeman, who favored dialogue and negotiation rather than direct confrontation. This does not mean that there were no conflicts. There were, sometimes severe. But the approach was different, more focused on seeking compromise.
This culture of negotiation led to a historic moment: in 1906, Verviers saw the birth of what is probably the first collective labor agreement in the world. We searched for equivalents elsewhere, notably in Europe, and there were none at that time.
  This agreement was a major social advancement. It drastically limited child and women’s labor, established a weekly day off—which was not the norm—and reduced the working day to eight hours. A remarkable success for that era.
This agreement remained in effect until 1934, at which time, in the context of the great global economic crisis triggered by the 1929 depression, employers somewhat regained control and questioned several of these gains.
In summary, one cannot speak of perfect understanding between unions and employers, but there has always been, in Verviers, a common will from both sides to favor the path of negotiation. This is what profoundly distinguishes the social history of Verviers from that of other industrial centers in the country.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: After its industrial and cultural golden age, which included prominent figures such as the poet Albert Bonjean and the painter Maurice Pirenne, what processes led to the decline of dynamism in Verviers?

  Claude Desama: The decline of Verviers began after World War II. In the immediate post-war period, there was a resurgence of activity in the textile sector, partly due to the Korean War. However, by the mid-1950s—around 1955-1960—signs of a clear economic decline had begun to appear. This decline intensified during the 1970s, which marked a true debacle for the Verviers industry: between 1970 and 1980, over 15,000 jobs were lost.
But the causes of this decline actually date back much further, to the end of the 19th century—paradoxically, a time when Verviers was still experiencing great prosperity. It was at that point that some Verviers industrialists began to prioritize the sale of yarns instead of finished cloth, believing that yarn was more profitable. They progressively shifted their production towards semi-finished products.
This strategy continued during the interwar period and then after 1945. However, by that time, the context had radically changed. Verviers producers found themselves confronted with competition that they had not previously known, particularly from synthetic fibers, often produced in Italy, which were cheaper, more varied, and better suited to modern textile uses.
  This progressive loss of competitiveness can largely be explained by two major strategic errors.
  The first: they failed to adapt. They remained focused on yarn production without redirecting their model towards higher value-added products or textile innovation.
  The second: they ceased to invest. This relates to an idea developed by the Austrian economist Joseph Schumpeter, with his theory of three generations: the first is that of pioneers, the second of developers, and the third—those who cause companies to fail—is that of heirs who spend without reinvesting. In Verviers, this third generation seems to have dominated: from the interwar period, and even more so after World War II, investments dried up. The equipment remained outdated and technologically obsolete.
 Verviers industrialists continued to spend—in other areas sometimes—but without renewing their production tools. And since the majority were family businesses, often limited financially, they failed to make the leap or respond to international competition. As a result: they disappeared one after the other.
 
  Grégoire Canlorbe: Émile Verhaeren did not lack sharp words regarding the Belgian elites, he who wrote in 1891 in La Nation that “the brains are narrowing,” “expedients replace ideas,” “skills are taken for strength,” “petty and minuscule means are touted as the only ones capable,” while “one smooths and insinuates, and arranges and mixes and everything is done halfway, three-quarters, fearfully, parsimoniously, with advances followed by retreats, with energies only in words.” Was this deleterious state of mind indeed characteristic of a certain capitalism?

Claude Desama: Verhaeren pointed out an essential issue: the predominance of family capitalism at the end of the 19th century. In his critiques, he primarily targeted the masters of forges and the industrialists in the coal sector, who relied on a model of small family businesses often inward-looking.
The situation in Verviers was somewhat different. The manufacturers from Verviers developed a specific strategy: social endogamy. In other words, they married within families of the same industrial background to consolidate and increase family capital. These marriage alliances reinforced industrial dynasties, giving rise to powerful clans—such as the Simonis, the Peltzers, or the Biolleys—with greater financial resources than coal entrepreneurs.
  This may explain why Verviers, in the long term, withstood better than other basins like the coal one. A comparable dynamic is also found in the Liège steel industry, where William Cockerill’s son was able, thanks to the capital accumulated by his family, to invest in metallurgical production.
However, by the end of the 19th century, this model of family capitalism was clearly beginning to fade. This is undoubtedly what Verhaeren sensed. At that time, a new type of capitalism was emerging, driven by banks. The creation of the Société Générale de Belgique marked a turning point: it gradually took control of the coal sector, the most fragile, and invested massively in the steel industry.
Yet, notably, this banking capitalism barely penetrated the textile sector. Why? Because the large textile industrialists—referred to as textile owners—were fiercely opposed to opening their capital. It was a distinct social class, both in Verviers and Ghent, in fact. Their refusal to associate banks with their activities isolated them and progressively weakened them. By retreating into themselves, they lost the ability to invest massively at a time when modernization became indispensable.
Therefore, one could think that if these industrialists had accepted the entry of banking capital into their sector earlier, the history of Belgian textiles would likely have been different.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: Earlier we mentioned an Austrian economist, Joseph Schumpeter. What do you think of the theory of economic cycles developed by one of his compatriots, Ludwig von Mises, a theory that locates the source of economic instability in the artificial increase of credit made possible for commercial banks by the right to lend a fraction of their deposits?

  Claude Desama: I am not sure that this is a fully developed analysis, but there is undeniably some truth in this economic reasoning. What is at stake here is the gradual financialization of capitalism. In other words, power has slowly shifted from the hands of business leaders to those of financiers, shareholders, and investors.
Today, business leaders are often themselves employees, subject to strict profitability targets. Their main mission is to generate economic performances sufficiently high to satisfy the demands of shareholders – who expect returns of 10, 12, or even 13% on their initial investment.
  It is this logic of financialization that underlies the globalization of exchanges. Not to improve the remuneration of labor, but to guarantee a better remuneration of capital. The constant pursuit of lower production costs has been to the benefit of capital, not labor.
  Is this financialization the source of economic crises? It is difficult to assert this categorically. We naturally think of the 1929 crisis, which was primarily a financial crisis, but it was not the first: stock market crashes had already occurred before. In reality, these financial crises are often the consequences of overproduction crises. And it is precisely this observation that gave rise to Keynesian thought, with its theory of investment regulation to prevent structural imbalances—particularly production excesses—that could lead to financial collapses.
Since then, the world has changed. And as the need for capital has increased, another logic has prevailed: a logic of financial profitability, increasingly disconnected from traditional productive economic logic.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: What should be done in Verviers to achieve what Donald Trump is undertaking in America: make Verviers great again?

  Claude Desama: This is a question I asked myself throughout my twelve years as mayor of Verviers: can we really revitalize this city? And I believe the answer is complex. We cannot rewrite history. Verviers certainly has some assets, but it also suffers from a major handicap: its proximity to several large metropolises.
It is too close to Liège, too close to Maastricht, too close to Aachen – all cities that are more important, which have rebuilt themselves around a modern urban fabric, essentially focused on the tertiary sector. Verviers, on the other hand, has never truly mourned its industrial past. For years, people 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 paralyzing sense of nostalgia, preventing them from considering a different future. When I became mayor in 2000, I realized how much this industrial past still weighed on mindsets and hindered initiatives for tertiary development.
  Another major obstacle is precisely this proximity to Liège. The relationships between Liège and Verviers have always been tinged with rivalry, sometimes implicit, sometimes open. And since Liège had a much greater political weight, it attracted the majority of public investments and major projects. A tram was built in Liège, not in Verviers. The Calatrava train station was installed in Liège. It is symbolic but revealing.
  In twenty to thirty minutes, residents of the Verviers district can reach Liège, which offers a denser, more attractive commercial infrastructure. This makes it even more difficult for an autonomous economic hub to emerge in Verviers.
Yet, I believe there is potential in Verviers. But it is also necessary for the people of Verviers themselves to realize this and to show a bit more local pride, a certain Verviers patriotism.
  I launched a major project for a shopping center in the city center, which ultimately did not materialize. I faced virulent opposition, albeit minor but very active. Part of the population still clung to the idea of a city of small shops, without realizing that these shops 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, their families, have vanished with the industrial economy. That world no longer exists.
 And today, the difficulty is twofold: not only do mindsets struggle to evolve, but there is also no longer a class of Verviers investors willing to bet on the city. Those who still have the means invest elsewhere—in Liège, in Brussels, sometimes even abroad. The local economic fabric has become devitalized, and we now depend on investors from other regions, even other countries.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: What do you reply to this criticism sometimes directed at social democracy, which argues that it has the unintended effect of suspending social mobility? In other words, it would prevent the renewal of financial and business elites and close off all possibilities for today’s proletarians to become tomorrow’s powerful. Among other examples, corporate tax, above a certain threshold, would work against entrepreneurs who are starting out, who cannot afford such a tax threshold if they intend to develop, or even simply maintain, their company; conversely, established businesses would generate revenue sufficient to continue to grow (and avoid bankruptcy) despite the threshold in question.

  Claude Desama: I think this phenomenon is somewhat exaggerated. The idea that the renewal of elites would be blocked by a certain socialism – which, paradoxically, would serve the interests of an already established dominant economic class to prevent its replacement by a new one—seems questionable to me.
This refers to the so-called theory of “creative destruction,” according to which one must destroy an existing industrial fabric to rebuild a new one. But for my part, I do not really subscribe to this view. I do not see how social democracy would be responsible for any blockage.
  On the contrary, social democracy has been, in my eyes, an extremely effective model. Between 1945 and 1980, Europe—and other regions of the world—experienced exceptional economic growth, based precisely on this model. There was a balanced articulation between private capital, investors, and a strategic state, according to a logic inspired by Keynesian thought.
  It was within this framework that the foundations of what we call the welfare state were laid: social security, public services, redistribution, protection of workers. And this period was also marked by a significant reduction in social inequalities.
This model was undermined starting in the 1970s, with the two oil shocks, the breakdown of the international monetary system, but also – and above all – the ideological emergence of neoliberalism, championed by thinkers like Milton Friedman and Friedrich von Hayek. This turning point was politically embodied by Reagan in the United States and Thatcher in the United Kingdom, whose aim was clearly to dismantle the welfare state to give total freedom back to capital, hoping thus to revive the economy.
It is this shift that profoundly transformed the economic and social balances. But I do not see how social democracy, in this context, could bear any responsibility for the disappearance or stagnation of elites. On the contrary, it allowed for the rise of new social layers and an economic mobility that we struggle to find today.

Grégoire Canlorbe: How do you explain that a Belgian-style Fascism or Nazism failed to rise to power, and that Léon Degrelle did not become the homolog of Mussolini or Hitler?

  Claude Desama: In Belgium, there indeed existed a significant fascist threat. Fascism was firmly established in Flanders, particularly through the VNV (Vlaamsch Nationaal Verbond), a very influential far-right movement. In Wallonia too, the danger manifested itself, notably with the rise of the Rexist movement in certain elections.
  That said, Belgium has, it seems to me, better resisted Fascism than other European countries. This resilience can be largely explained by a peculiarity of Belgian society at the time: pillarization. This was a structuring of social life 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 insurance societies, insurance companies, provident funds, etc. Next, the Christian (Catholic) pillar had a similar system: political parties, trade unions, youth organizations, mutual societies, schools… Finally, the Liberal Party, although somewhat more isolated, played a balancing role, sometimes allied with socialists, sometimes with Christians.
This pillar structure—although sometimes criticized—had the effect of strengthening social cohesion and providing the population with solid frameworks of support, both socially and economically or culturally. It is this dense organizational fabric that, in my opinion, allowed Belgium to better resist the seductions of fascism, as it has also been able to contain the influence of communism.

Grégoire Canlorbe: The N-VA claims to be the solution to what it describes as a Belgium caught between Wokism and Islamism. What do you respond to this political argument?

  Claude Desama: Listen, there are, in my opinion, two myths that need to be deconstructed. The first concerns this vague and overused notion of “Wokism.” Honestly, I’m not quite sure what that means. I know the theories of deconstruction, postmodern thought, the work surrounding the promotion of the subject and the critique of the limits of modernity—particularly with regard to considering the rights and realities of minorities.
  In my view, we need to distinguish this intellectual effort, which can be profound and necessary, from certain forms of excessive, even pathological activism that give a distorted image of this movement. I think, for example, of some excesses of movements like MeToo, where we slip into a form of media hysteria that ultimately undermines the cause. But reducing all of this to a singular “woke ideology” is an abusive simplification. There is not, strictly speaking, a coherent or structured woke ideology. There is a plurality of critical currents and a variety of activist struggles in favor of minorities.
The second myth concerns Islamist terrorism. We should not exaggerate. It is true that Verviers was the scene of a police operation in 2015 in a building on Rue de la Colline, where individuals linked to a terrorist cell had taken position. But there has never been a structured Islamist network in Verviers. This event was isolated and does not reflect the local reality.
What we do observe, and this is true in many European countries—in the Netherlands, Germany, France—is a growing presence of Muslim communities in the population. This is the result of immigration, but also of a more significant demographic dynamism within these communities. Some trends may lean towards a more traditional Islam, sometimes a bit rigid or closed, that is true. But to speak of an Islamist threat or a generalized risk is going much too far.
In Belgium, the vast majority of Muslims are perfectly integrated. During the twelve years I was mayor of Verviers, I had the opportunity to regularly meet with representatives of the various mosques. The exchanges were always respectful, open, and constructive. There is no structural problem in Belgium with citizens of the Muslim faith.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: During the Belgian federal elections on June 9, 2024, Mr. Godefridi represented the N-VA as the head of the list in Walloon Brabant. Do you think the N-VA has any chance of breaking through in Wallonia?

  Claude Desama: The N-VA embodies a well-known Flemish nationalism. Nationalism, it must be said, has always been present in Flanders, and the N-VA has positioned itself as its main standard-bearer. However, it is in competition with Vlaams Belang, which adopts a much more radical, even openly extremist line.
That said, the N-VA does not represent a model in any way. It is a right-wing, conservative, and strongly nationalist party. Certainly, it does not go as far as Vlaams Belang, whose tones can be described as fascist, but the N-VA remains an ideologically tough formation. However, it is representative of a significant portion of Flemish public opinion. In Wallonia, on the other hand, it has absolutely no impact, and this is for a simple reason: 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 contrary, have a very developed identity consciousness.
  I remember meetings with Flemish colleagues at a time when everyone was still perfectly bilingual. Some categorically refused to hold discussions in French, even at the highest academic level. They accepted English but rejected French—which, for us, was quite surprising. This is a concrete illustration of this Flemish nationalism, which sometimes has a rigid or even domineering quality.
But it must be acknowledged that this nationalism has also had a mobilizing effect. It is partly this identity affirmation that has carried the economic conversion of Flanders after World War II. A political energy and will to succeed that the Walloons have not always been able to match, or that they did not perceive with sufficient lucidity at the time.
  That said, the N-VA has no chance of establishing itself in Wallonia. Belgium, in reality, is two worlds, two political cultures, two parallel democracies. Flemish socialists are not the same as Walloon socialists; Flemish Christian democrats are different from their Francophone counterparts. It is just as unlikely to see a party like the Walloon PS succeed in Flanders as to see the N-VA establish itself sustainably in Wallonia.

  Grégoire Canlorbe: Would you say that the people of Verviers have shown resilience in the face of the bad weather they have had to endure?

  Claude Desama: If you are referring to the floods of 2021, then yes, I can say that the people of Verviers reacted with remarkable dignity and solidarity. They showed extraordinary courage in the face of such a brutal ordeal.
What particularly struck me was the calm and resilience they demonstrated. Several people, remembering me as a former mayor, contacted me for advice or help. And each time, I was touched by their attitude: they understood what had happened, they were not looking for a scapegoat, they did not let themselves fall into anger against the political leaders—who, in this particular case, were obviously not responsible for the disaster.
  They could have been bitter or overwhelmed, but instead, they were incredibly patient and engaged in the reconstruction efforts. Their reaction inspired a lot of admiration in me.
  This shows, in my view, a true strength of character that belongs to the people of Verviers. A capacity to withstand hard knocks without losing their cool, to stick together, to keep moving forward.
Today, the city is gradually beginning to emerge from this difficult period. Even if many problems remain to be solved, one can feel that things are moving. But what I particularly remember is this collective reaction, dignified and supportive, in the face of a dramatic situation. And for that, I remain admiring.

Grégoire Canlorbe: Thank you for your time. Would you like to add a word or two for the younger generation among politicians?

 Claude Desama: I must say that I am deeply concerned about the crisis that the European left is currently experiencing, a crisis that also affects Belgium and, more specifically, Wallonia.
  It is imperative that the left finds a true “software,” a coherent thought, and a voice that can speak not only to the small intellectual bourgeoisie—its usual audience—but also, and especially, to the working classes. We must restore this essential link with those whom the socialist movement has historically defended.
This requires a genuine intellectual effort. The socialist movement must regain a doctrinal breath, a renewed vision, and a way to make a progressive project come alive today that resonates with contemporary realities. Too often in recent years, socialist parties have seemed short of reflection. I am struck by how, in the 19th and early 20th centuries, socialists—the Vandervelde, and many others—constantly nourished the doctrine, engaged in debates, and developed ideas. They thought about the world.
As for me, I have known a generation of socialists more concerned with the conquest and management of power. But the left is not just a method of management. It is above all a project for society. Once you abandon this project to 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 petit bourgeoisie, to the detriment of the link with the working classes. This sociological shift, combined with the loss of ideological benchmarks, largely contributes to the weakening of the left.
What I say today to socialist leaders—and I say this even more because I am still active in certain instances—is that the world has profoundly changed. The responses of the 1950s or 1960s are no longer suited to today’s challenges. We need to think of concrete solutions, propose clear alternatives, consistent with the fundamental values of socialism.   And then, there is another essential requirement: that of exemplarity. Politicians must be beyond reproach. The Romans already said: “Caesar’s wife must not be suspected.” This remains true. Exemplarity is a condition for credibility. And we must admit that in Wallonia, especially within the Socialist Party, this requirement has not always been respected. It is regrettable. And it has a real political cost.

That conversation was originally published in The Postil Magazine, in June 2025