Brussels has become my home primarily for personal and family reasons, but the Belgian political culture has something to do with it too.
I left Ireland in 1990 for a job I wanted but was very tempted earlier in the miserable 80s to get out any way I could. Being on the losing side of the abortion and divorce referendums was bad enough, but the discourse surrounding them was worse. Handing out leaflets outside a church, a friend was told with massive illogicality "you should have been aborted yourself".
It was a relief to find a place where these issues had been resolved. Questions of civil partnership and marriage equality were settled later, not without debate but with equanimity.
Belgium is a monarchy, but without many of the excesses of elsewhere. The king addresses the people as "My fellow citizens".
I pay Belgian tax, which is horrendously high, but there are compensations in public services. Health services are close to available on demand. GPs receive no subsidies, typically charge €24 - 30 euro per consultation, and all patients can receive a refund of €18 or more in a matter of days. If I did want to return to Ireland, the question of access to health services would be a major obstacle, especially at my age.
We pay for our water. I cannot understand, or explain to others, how autonomous citizens of a republic can resist even the principle of taking personal responsibility for their consumption of natural resources.
Brussels now apparently has the worst traffic in Europe, which may partly explain why my 19-year-old has no interest in a driving license.
Pre-school, primary and secondary education is overwhelmingly open to all, with few if any fee-paying schools (apart from European and international schools). Seven years ago, Belgians were shocked when some parents queued overnight for places in a particular communal school. The response was swift - a decree that all secondary school places in Brussels should be assigned by lottery. Parents could express a preference, but links between primary and secondary schools were abolished. Exceptions were made for siblings, the handicapped and children of teachers. The system has had some unintended effects and has been twigged frequently but the intent was brave, and driven by a sense of solidarity.
Last year, the Constitutional Court decreed that schools may not require pupils to attend religious classes (Catholic, Islam, Protestant, Jewish or Morale/lay) because this would require the disclosure of confessional convictions that are a private matter and nobody else’s business. Catholic schools were exempt on the grounds that attendance is voluntary and there is always a communal alternative.
I could also write a longer piece about the problems and faults of my adopted country. Corruption exists, to put it mildly. Inter-communal tensions are huge sources of inefficiencies although, like many other immigrants here, I have an unfortunate tendency to see them as a spectator sport.
The recent tragic atrocities, home-grown and inspired from afar, have prompted questions about Belgian policy on immigration, but nothing like the degree of xenophobia that we have seen elsewhere.
My older son here volunteered to make up a kind of guard of honour for the “Ceremonie d’Hommage” in the Royal Palace to commemorate the 32 victims of the March 22nd terrorist attack. Maalbeek metro station, where the second explosion took place, is the main station for his school.
Ireland has changed and I do miss it. But I like Belgium and the Belgians, and they have been good to me.
