Berkley Center

Although ancient churches dot practically every street corner in the city of Brussels, it is much more common to see a tourist wandering inside than it is to see a worshiper. The juxtaposition of weathered steeples with crisp new graffiti denouncing heaven, hell, and everything in between is one of the defining characteristics of the city. While the majority of the Belgian population identifies itself as Catholic, the bulk of young adults proudly proclaim that they are atheists. However, in this city of young non-believers, there is a subset of the population that openly displays their religious beliefs. They are often clad in veils and can be seen congregating around mosques, which are easily the busiest religious institutions in the city. Those of Muslim faith are numerous; there are several large ethnic quarters in the city, governed by Muslim mayors. Conflicts between the Muslim and non-Muslim population are rare, and any mistrust between the two surprisingly does not stem from religious differences. The forward-thinking city is leery of the Muslim population less for religious reasons, and more for the separation it induces.

Religious conversation and religious differences are not frightening to the Bruxellois, a population very accustomed to an international presence. Most of those native to Brussels have no qualms with religious differences, only with the separation present in their society. In a city that hosts delegates from all over the world every week, the fact that a section of the population remains isolated is troubling. While students at universities say that they attempt to integrate with the Muslim population, Muslim students say that is sometimes a difficult feat to achieve. It is not so much the religious aspect that divides the two populations, as it is the familial traditions and expectations. Communities of Muslim migrants are commonly found scattered throughout the city. However, the communities remain somewhat secluded rather than rather than integrated into general society, and as a result, it can be difficult to associate with people of different religious faiths outside of school for Muslims.

Since life in immigrant communities is often structured around family, food, and religion, it can be tough for an outsider to enter. As a result, Muslim children straddle a chasm of cultural divides: on one side lie their family’s traditional values and customs, and on the other lie the wary perceptions and stereotypes held by the rest of the city. This chasm is only rarely crossed, but one of the most common places to find this dichotomy of cultures is in the numerous kebab shops in the city. But while the Bruxellois adore the Middle Eastern fare served at these cheap and delicious restaurants, there is practically no crossover between the populations, even in that intimate setting. A cold distance remains between each subset of the population as they sit on opposite side of the room. While the Bruxellois may say that they want more integration, the task seems to be more arduous than it sounds.

To Belgian students, this idea of a separate population existing in their city is more frightening than the ideas of either extremism or religion. While a large part of the young population unabashedly proclaims their atheism, they do not shun those who believe. A back-and-forth dialect of diametrically opposite opinions does not generally provoke riots or fights; as a product of being exposed to so many different cultures, most Bruxellois students keep an open mind when it comes to encountering foreign ideas. But while open-mindedness is generally considered an asset, it also gives rise to some of the friction that exists between the two populations. The natives of Brussels see this segregation in their own city as a rejection of the culture and history of Brussels. When a cultural exchange cannot happen, open-mindedness and acceptance seem unnecessary. Since the students cannot confirm or deny what they hear about Muslims in the news or through heresy, it breeds a sense of distrust. The Bruxellois thrive on discussion, but when a dialect cannot happen, the only things that remain are stereotypes.

The closed off nature of the Muslim population in Brussels gives rise to most of the tension between this religious population and the rest of the Bruxellois. The segregation of the two populations does not allow an open exchange or dialogue to occur, which results in the wariness of the two toward each other. In such an open and forward-moving city, the idea of a population closing itself off to revere something ancient and unchanging seems incompatible. These different modes of life seem to be more important than the actual religious differences of the two. Perhaps as the second and third generations of children of Muslim migrants grow up, the rapport between the two populations will change; perhaps there will be more openness and understanding between the two in place of the current mistrust and uncertainty. Only time will tell.