Der Spiegel on Belgium, terrorism and the nation state as failed state:

‘Bart De Wever doesn't have much faith in his country. In fact, you can hardly call it a country, this artificial construct created sometime in the 19th century as the result of an accident of history, a power struggle among major powers. The centralized Belgian state is "slow, complicated and inefficient," says De Wever, one of the most powerful men in Belgian politics.’

(…)

‘All criticism aside, we need to remind ourselves that nothing and no one can absolutely prevent attacks -- neither the most reliable police force nor the most effective security plan. But Tuesday's attacks also represent a poor performance on the part of the authorities, especially those in Belgium, a perception that is now beginning to take hold in the country. Two days after the attacks, the interior and justice ministers offered their resignations because warnings issued by Turkey about Ibrahim El Bakraoui, who had been arrested in Gaziantep, had reportedly been ignored. According to Belgian media reports, the prime minister has initially declined accept the resignations, but there is growing dissatisfaction with the government.’

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‘Belgium could have become a model of successful coexistence, but it didn't, and not even Moureaux wants to romanticize anything. Instead, the country became the nucleus of Europe and received "the institutions," as the headquarters of the EU's governing bodies -- the European Commission, the European Parliament and the Council of Europe -- are called. They are now there, with their glass towers, and some perceive this is as some form of colonization.
The heart of Europe is, well, a cold heart, at least from the perspective of the Brussels poor. They see none of the money "from Brussels," as it is put elsewhere, or "from the eurocrats," as they say in Brussels.
It's about four kilometers from the European Parliament to the so-called jihadist hotspot in Molenbeek, and yet there is virtually no connection between Europe and the troubled district on an everyday basis. In the European quarter, laws are written for an entire continent, while jihadists nearby plan ways to fight this continent and destroy its freedom and values.’

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‘Is it possible to like this city? This country? Yes, says a man who is an unlikely supporter.
This unlikely confession of love for an unloved country comes from Philippe Blondin at the Jewish Museum. It is shortly after the Paris attacks, and he meets with us in a building that is effectively hidden on a small street near the luxurious Grand Sablon, a square with expensive antique stores, long-established restaurants and outposts of many of the city's world-famous chocolatiers.
Almost two years ago, on May 24, 2014, a young man pulled out an assault rifle in the museum, and shot and killed four people. The attacker, a French national of Algerian origin who had returned after spending time in Syria, lived in Molenbeek, just a few kilometers from the scene of the attack. It was that year, and not just last Tuesday, that Brussels got added to the European terror map -- and not just as a place where the attackers came from.
Blondin doesn't need a secretary today to register visitors. The soldiers guarding the museum entrance do that now. Visitors are asked for identification, and then whether they have an appointment. Only then are they accompanied up to Blondin's office by a soldier in camouflage fatigues. A few bullet holes are still visible on the way there.
The president of the Jewish Museum is a distinguished man with a confession to make. "I am a citizen of Belgium," he says. "I have this country to thank for everything." He goes on to explain that his family came to Belgium in search of a better life in the same way the Turks and the Moroccans did during the 1960s and 1970s. His father owned a shoe store and he himself was able to go to university. He enjoyed the kind of rise in society that is denied to many immigrants today. The old man also makes a plea for a country that has many quite perplexed these days.
Blondin wants to promote understanding between cultures and peoples. The museum, which is collecting dust in its current location, plays an important part in his vision. There are plans for one more major exhibition with young artists, a night of music and talks under the theme "100 Artists, 100 Freedoms." After that, the building will be torn down.
A new museum building will be filled with touchscreens and modern museum education techniques in tune with the times. It will also feature a section devoted to Muslims in Brussels. "Things can only be made possible through learning and joint dialogue," says Blondin, before adding with a slight hint of resignation: "My only worry is that the people who will be willing to talk to each other don't have a problem with each other anyway." He says he's familiar with all the disadvantages -- the parallel societies, the school dropouts, the lack of economic opportunities -- but argues that these in no way provide any justification for bombing attacks.
Blondin also says he doesn't want to be held responsible as a Belgian for actions taken by others in his country. "Are we supposed to apologize for something?" he asks. "No, the terrorism isn't our fault." He says he doesn't want to be defined by terrorism.
It actually is possible to find people who like living in this country, with its improvisations, its incompleteness and its self-irony.
They include people like Jan Bucquoy, a cheerful anarchist who mounts his own performance art coup d'état against the royal family once a year -- always on May 21, the calendar day in which it is statistically least likely to rain.’

Read the complete article here.

First Der Spiegel appears to side with De Wever, or at least with De Wever of a couple of years ago: get rid of Belgium and we all will move a few inch closer to paradise.

But the article ends with a defense of Belgium, with Jan Bucquoy, a man I had never heard of before, an anarchist and a performance artist who rightly believes that performance art, anarchism and rain don’t go well together.

Anarchism without rain, these three words may summarize why Belgium has a future after all.

This has nothing to do with terrorism, but more with people like Jan Bucquoy: Je suis belge.