Wall Street Journal
At around 8:20 on Wednesday evening, the main French-language network in Belgium interrupted its regular programming for breaking news. "A major crisis at governing heights," declared a well-recognized announcer on RTBF, the state-owned channel, before cutting to reporters in the field.
Belgium, according to the bulletin, was at an end. The parliament in Flemish-speaking Flanders, which along with the francophone region of Wallonia makes up this low country, had just declared independence. Shots of jubilation in Antwerp, the largest Flemish city, contrasted with a small sorrowful vigil outside the Royal Palace in Brussels. The journalist outside the palace reported that King Albert and Queen Paola had fled the country for Kinshasa, the capital of the old Belgian colony, Congo. Grainy footage showed two people boarding a plane at a military airfield in the middle of the night.
Most viewers of the half-hour special missed a small disclaimer flashed at the beginning: "This is fiction." The station was flooded with anxious calls. Diplomats asked for clarification. Some Belgians broke down crying; children were upset. The faux news didn't incite mass hysteria, per Orson Welles's famous 1938 broadcast of "War of the Worlds," but "it provoked, more than any surprise, authentic emotion," RTBF said in a statement yesterday.
Only in Belgium is it a "surprise" that people may take badly to the sudden disintegration of their state. Granted, the country is a bizarre construct, built largely by British design in the early 19th century. It's what the Belgian-American author Luc Sante calls the "nowhere" country, one largely held together by the royal family and its ethnically mixed capital, Brussels.
But RTBF's take on its little stunt is self-serving. The station's management discussed this program for two years before going ahead. The aim, they explained, was to force the country to face up to the consequences of possible Flemish secession, a remote possibility. In reality, the francophone network took sides in what should be an open debate ahead of elections next year. Forget about journalistic credibility or responsibility, though both were undermined here. Intended to unify the nation, the prank may well end up polarizing Belgians. That's why the Belgian government is furious, calling the show "a bad joke that shows bad taste."
For the rest of Europe, which loves to laugh at Belgium, this "news" story is sure to provide fodder for new jokes.
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I have to say that I think it's a great joke and it proves how powerfull are media now a days. It's a shame to think that if this ever happens in Spain saying that the Basc Country and/or Catalonia are independents the army would be in the streets in less than a minute
BTW, us, spaniards don't have jokes about Belgium, I think it's mainly in France
At around 8:20 on Wednesday evening, the main French-language network in Belgium interrupted its regular programming for breaking news. "A major crisis at governing heights," declared a well-recognized announcer on RTBF, the state-owned channel, before cutting to reporters in the field.
Belgium, according to the bulletin, was at an end. The parliament in Flemish-speaking Flanders, which along with the francophone region of Wallonia makes up this low country, had just declared independence. Shots of jubilation in Antwerp, the largest Flemish city, contrasted with a small sorrowful vigil outside the Royal Palace in Brussels. The journalist outside the palace reported that King Albert and Queen Paola had fled the country for Kinshasa, the capital of the old Belgian colony, Congo. Grainy footage showed two people boarding a plane at a military airfield in the middle of the night.
Most viewers of the half-hour special missed a small disclaimer flashed at the beginning: "This is fiction." The station was flooded with anxious calls. Diplomats asked for clarification. Some Belgians broke down crying; children were upset. The faux news didn't incite mass hysteria, per Orson Welles's famous 1938 broadcast of "War of the Worlds," but "it provoked, more than any surprise, authentic emotion," RTBF said in a statement yesterday.
Only in Belgium is it a "surprise" that people may take badly to the sudden disintegration of their state. Granted, the country is a bizarre construct, built largely by British design in the early 19th century. It's what the Belgian-American author Luc Sante calls the "nowhere" country, one largely held together by the royal family and its ethnically mixed capital, Brussels.
But RTBF's take on its little stunt is self-serving. The station's management discussed this program for two years before going ahead. The aim, they explained, was to force the country to face up to the consequences of possible Flemish secession, a remote possibility. In reality, the francophone network took sides in what should be an open debate ahead of elections next year. Forget about journalistic credibility or responsibility, though both were undermined here. Intended to unify the nation, the prank may well end up polarizing Belgians. That's why the Belgian government is furious, calling the show "a bad joke that shows bad taste."
For the rest of Europe, which loves to laugh at Belgium, this "news" story is sure to provide fodder for new jokes.
-----------------------------------------
I have to say that I think it's a great joke and it proves how powerfull are media now a days. It's a shame to think that if this ever happens in Spain saying that the Basc Country and/or Catalonia are independents the army would be in the streets in less than a minute
BTW, us, spaniards don't have jokes about Belgium, I think it's mainly in France
