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The original proposition of the Flemish Appeal is invalid for the same reason that the purported veto is invalid at law, namely the fact that despite the years since its proposal, the terms of the peace deal with the Flemish rebels has never been ratified by a 2/3rd majority in accordance with the requirements for any amendment of the Constitution. For relevant precedent, reference is made to the failed accord which the Crown sought to reach with the Flemish rebels and successful second version negotiated last century.
Furthermore, the original terms of the Flemish arrangement are further tainted because of a breach of fiduciary duty by the person seeking to negotiate on behalf of the Government, namely, the late M. Vandehoof. An agent holds a fiduciary duty to negotiate any arrangement to the benefit of the principal and not for their own aggrandisement. Should an agent breach the duty by putting their personal interests ahead of the principal, the negotiated arrangements are void and not enforceable against the principal unless ratified by the principal. The principal is also entitled to seek damages against the agent for any loss flowing from the breach. M. Vanderhoof negotiated terms which granted powers into his own hands as then Minister for Flanders. These arrangements were never ratified by the Chamber and therefore are unenforceable. The late M. Vanderhoof's estate is also liable to pay damages to the State for any loss flowing from his malfeasance.
Al Oyer
Advocat
A veldist deputy raises an eyebrow when an angry deputy made motions to fight with the minister of Flanders.
Is this what Belgium is becoming?
Is this what Belgium is becoming?
Veldism. Bah. Not a thing.
Secondly, if you were in power, there would be plenty more fights.
Pieter Hendrickx addresses the Assembly:
Dear me, it seems we have a dispute about the foundations of our state, serious questions about the fundamental structures by which we govern ourselves. Oh, if only we had a way to resolve such disputes, a body of learned men and women that could determine with finality the answers to these difficult questions.
What, you say? We do have such a body? Why, yes, so we do, our Constitutional Court!
Accordingly, I move that the Minister of Justice promptly bring this dispute about the effectiveness of the Flemish amendments to the attention of the Court, and seek its resolution. Among other questions, this should determine whether the recently pronounced VETO is effective, or just some more hot air.
Or we could start shooting each other again, but I, for one, have had enough of that to last me the rest of my lifetime.
Dear me, it seems we have a dispute about the foundations of our state, serious questions about the fundamental structures by which we govern ourselves. Oh, if only we had a way to resolve such disputes, a body of learned men and women that could determine with finality the answers to these difficult questions.
What, you say? We do have such a body? Why, yes, so we do, our Constitutional Court!
Accordingly, I move that the Minister of Justice promptly bring this dispute about the effectiveness of the Flemish amendments to the attention of the Court, and seek its resolution. Among other questions, this should determine whether the recently pronounced VETO is effective, or just some more hot air.
Or we could start shooting each other again, but I, for one, have had enough of that to last me the rest of my lifetime.
Brabantville.
It was a beautiful day in the sleepy provincial capital. The sky was an ocean of iced blue, interrupted only by the fluttering of black banners. For Brabantville was not so sleepy any more. They came in their hundreds, the fathers of the city and its beggars, the founding families and the parvenus, the established barons and their fledging competitors. They came from all over, even from the far-flung missionary outposts. And then they huddled in a field outside the capital, before a large wooden stand decked in the Fascist cross and the Fascist colours, encircled by Stormtroepen whose obsidian uniforms must have been swelteringly uncomfortable under the African sun. And yet, as the sweat clung to their skin and dropped into their eyes, they remained resolute. It was a fitting metaphor for Fascism itself: even under pressure, in defeat and in exile, the cause would not break. So thought Roni Vandermeer, dressed in a sexless white tunic, as she mounted the stage to address her expectant audience.
They were not the soft clay of past Fascist rallies, already sympathetic to their ideals and ready to be moulded in their image. Rather these were hard men with hard, brittle minds, whose opinions and philosophies had long since crystallised. Colonial Belgians tended to be more traditionalist than their mainland counterparts, and, due to their proximity to the natives, exceptionally more racist - but they were hardly natural Fascists. Most of them were either the rugged, self-made men who formed the ranks of the CCU or the expatriate patricians to whom Fascism appeared dubiously Marxist. A year ago, Vandermeer would have addressed an audience of pure air. But then the communists - the common enemy of Fascist and colonial alike - had incited rebellion amongst the natives. That this broadside was intended against the Fascist army was irrelevant, as an uprising would have meant the end of Belgian Africa. At a stroke, the overseas Belgians were estranged from the Government; the defence of their lives and livelihoods were far more important than the distant ideological conflict that had ensnared Belgium proper. And so, while still harbouring great reservations about Fascism, they needed their new overlords for their survival. As Vandermeer knew, necessity was the strongest form of loyalty.
As she stopped to take a sip of water, with calculated slowness, her eyes flitted over the crowd. Probing for weakness. When you seek to bind a man to you, you must stoke his fears, not alleviate them. The Vandermeers were Boers before they were Belgians; they were familiar with the longstanding grievances of colonists, and how they may be cannily exploited. Roni herself may not have been born in Africa, but she knew that it was a continent riven with fractiousness, not just between white and black but between blacks themselves, who were a hodgepodge of mutually-loathing tribes displaced within arbitrary borders. The natives squabbled over the scraps left by the white man, while the white man fretted that the natives would soon have it all. Africa was a cauldron of conflict - and she intended to stir it. How had a single Italian city once commanded the known world, or less than half a million Englishmen the Indian subcontinent? Divide, and you shall conquer.
She took a step forward, intertwined her fingers behind her back, and began:
"My fellow Europeans. Do not fear the National Front, for it comes to bring peace, not the sword. We may appear fearsome and inscrutable, and I shall admit that most of my comrades are not as experienced with this great continent as you are. But we are sons of the soil; we share a common stock. Like you, we have advanced to our present status not by inheritance or right of birth, but by tireless graft against an entrenched establishment. Like you, we recognise and respect achievement, not laziness; the man who has scouted the savannah for his fortune and built his home with his own hands is eminently more commendable than the lazy, parasitic aristocrat who sleeps his way through private school to arrive at his natural destination in government.
And where is that government now, it bears asking? As distant as ever. But at least before, its indolence could be relied on to keep it out of trouble. The government, having done nothing for the Congo, whose prosperity is solely the product of its struggling inhabitants, has at least not actively harmed it - until now. Now, the Bokshevists who have scrambled into power have thrust a knife into the heart of empire! They have called the natives to arms, promising them freedom and independence, if they shall only rise up and seize what is theirs. But this land is not the gift of the government - it is the patrimony of us all. And yet the government would have sold you all out, and given you over to the vengeful brutes! They have betrayed this land, just as they have betrayed the fatherland and everything else in their trust! A government that can no longer guarantee the safety of its subjects does not deserve their obedience.
Shall you return to Belgium, then, when the savages have overrun your homeland? What will you find except a landscape more hostile and alien than even this one? Within the hour of their ephemeral victory, the communists have already sought the abolition of the Monarchy! Their liberal conspirators have pushed through a programme of nationalisation and expropriation! Is this the land of your forefathers, were the property of the people was sacrosanct and the authority of the King indisputable? Is this the fatherland to which you have offered your blood and loyalty? And should the government ever return to Africa, wielding the dual daggers of nationalisation and nativisation, would you bear your chest to its blows? No; you have too much gallantry for that. You will not supinely submit to the fate that the communists and their savage hordes are ordained for you. You shall resist, as you have always resisted.
Then let us lead you in resistance. Belgium may have abandoned you, but we have not abandoned the Belgians. We are not bound to any territory or constrained by borders. Wherever there is the Belgian nation, there is the National Front. Our strength is the strength of the people - your strength. Sons of Europe, whether you have hated us or been indifferent, let there now be consensus. The enemy is not in your midst: he is lurking in the fields and in your homes, waiting until he can make them his own; he is ensconced in comfort thousands of miles away, plotting your downfall! We are blood brothers, patriots forged in fire, sons of civilisation. And we shall defend this civilisation, and the swarthy, self-reliant men who are its foundation. Belgium may have succumbed to passivity and helplessness, but Africa endures. The Belgian people endure. We endure!"
It was a beautiful day in the sleepy provincial capital. The sky was an ocean of iced blue, interrupted only by the fluttering of black banners. For Brabantville was not so sleepy any more. They came in their hundreds, the fathers of the city and its beggars, the founding families and the parvenus, the established barons and their fledging competitors. They came from all over, even from the far-flung missionary outposts. And then they huddled in a field outside the capital, before a large wooden stand decked in the Fascist cross and the Fascist colours, encircled by Stormtroepen whose obsidian uniforms must have been swelteringly uncomfortable under the African sun. And yet, as the sweat clung to their skin and dropped into their eyes, they remained resolute. It was a fitting metaphor for Fascism itself: even under pressure, in defeat and in exile, the cause would not break. So thought Roni Vandermeer, dressed in a sexless white tunic, as she mounted the stage to address her expectant audience.
They were not the soft clay of past Fascist rallies, already sympathetic to their ideals and ready to be moulded in their image. Rather these were hard men with hard, brittle minds, whose opinions and philosophies had long since crystallised. Colonial Belgians tended to be more traditionalist than their mainland counterparts, and, due to their proximity to the natives, exceptionally more racist - but they were hardly natural Fascists. Most of them were either the rugged, self-made men who formed the ranks of the CCU or the expatriate patricians to whom Fascism appeared dubiously Marxist. A year ago, Vandermeer would have addressed an audience of pure air. But then the communists - the common enemy of Fascist and colonial alike - had incited rebellion amongst the natives. That this broadside was intended against the Fascist army was irrelevant, as an uprising would have meant the end of Belgian Africa. At a stroke, the overseas Belgians were estranged from the Government; the defence of their lives and livelihoods were far more important than the distant ideological conflict that had ensnared Belgium proper. And so, while still harbouring great reservations about Fascism, they needed their new overlords for their survival. As Vandermeer knew, necessity was the strongest form of loyalty.
As she stopped to take a sip of water, with calculated slowness, her eyes flitted over the crowd. Probing for weakness. When you seek to bind a man to you, you must stoke his fears, not alleviate them. The Vandermeers were Boers before they were Belgians; they were familiar with the longstanding grievances of colonists, and how they may be cannily exploited. Roni herself may not have been born in Africa, but she knew that it was a continent riven with fractiousness, not just between white and black but between blacks themselves, who were a hodgepodge of mutually-loathing tribes displaced within arbitrary borders. The natives squabbled over the scraps left by the white man, while the white man fretted that the natives would soon have it all. Africa was a cauldron of conflict - and she intended to stir it. How had a single Italian city once commanded the known world, or less than half a million Englishmen the Indian subcontinent? Divide, and you shall conquer.
She took a step forward, intertwined her fingers behind her back, and began:
"My fellow Europeans. Do not fear the National Front, for it comes to bring peace, not the sword. We may appear fearsome and inscrutable, and I shall admit that most of my comrades are not as experienced with this great continent as you are. But we are sons of the soil; we share a common stock. Like you, we have advanced to our present status not by inheritance or right of birth, but by tireless graft against an entrenched establishment. Like you, we recognise and respect achievement, not laziness; the man who has scouted the savannah for his fortune and built his home with his own hands is eminently more commendable than the lazy, parasitic aristocrat who sleeps his way through private school to arrive at his natural destination in government.
And where is that government now, it bears asking? As distant as ever. But at least before, its indolence could be relied on to keep it out of trouble. The government, having done nothing for the Congo, whose prosperity is solely the product of its struggling inhabitants, has at least not actively harmed it - until now. Now, the Bokshevists who have scrambled into power have thrust a knife into the heart of empire! They have called the natives to arms, promising them freedom and independence, if they shall only rise up and seize what is theirs. But this land is not the gift of the government - it is the patrimony of us all. And yet the government would have sold you all out, and given you over to the vengeful brutes! They have betrayed this land, just as they have betrayed the fatherland and everything else in their trust! A government that can no longer guarantee the safety of its subjects does not deserve their obedience.
Shall you return to Belgium, then, when the savages have overrun your homeland? What will you find except a landscape more hostile and alien than even this one? Within the hour of their ephemeral victory, the communists have already sought the abolition of the Monarchy! Their liberal conspirators have pushed through a programme of nationalisation and expropriation! Is this the land of your forefathers, were the property of the people was sacrosanct and the authority of the King indisputable? Is this the fatherland to which you have offered your blood and loyalty? And should the government ever return to Africa, wielding the dual daggers of nationalisation and nativisation, would you bear your chest to its blows? No; you have too much gallantry for that. You will not supinely submit to the fate that the communists and their savage hordes are ordained for you. You shall resist, as you have always resisted.
Then let us lead you in resistance. Belgium may have abandoned you, but we have not abandoned the Belgians. We are not bound to any territory or constrained by borders. Wherever there is the Belgian nation, there is the National Front. Our strength is the strength of the people - your strength. Sons of Europe, whether you have hated us or been indifferent, let there now be consensus. The enemy is not in your midst: he is lurking in the fields and in your homes, waiting until he can make them his own; he is ensconced in comfort thousands of miles away, plotting your downfall! We are blood brothers, patriots forged in fire, sons of civilisation. And we shall defend this civilisation, and the swarthy, self-reliant men who are its foundation. Belgium may have succumbed to passivity and helplessness, but Africa endures. The Belgian people endure. We endure!"
My fellow fascists, the natives is not a threat. We should embrace them and fool them into joining our glorious army so that one day we can take back our fatherland with the help of the native brutes. they are good at fighting and they follow orders. The numbers of them in or colonies is great think of of 500 000-1 000 000 people building up an industry and fighting in our fascist army on belgian soil so we can get rid of the bolsheviks. They will love fascism when we tell them what it is. Let them join our cause to retake our lost lands.
-Bernard Anselme in Africa
-Bernard Anselme in Africa
What made you think I was a fascist?
- Veldist deputy
((Guys Veldism is pretty much a type of reactionary as they are absolutists, as in they want an absolute Monarchy. Fascists don't want an absolute monarchy they want a monarchy that has an absolute dictator under it.))
I propose setting up policies that would encourage immigration of white europeans to the BNF-controlled lands in Africa. Maybe a promise of free farmland?
Natives might not be a threat right now, but situations change. There is a clear need for at least the most basic military education for all white citizens of Congo and Benin. State Commissariat of Truth and Enlightenment will start working on the curriculum immediately.
A special Council of Commissars is being formed to define the position of the negro population in the fascist ideology and start producing propaganda directed specifically towards them. Negroes are mostly illiterate, so we have to use posters and loudspeakers, the stockpile of latter is somewhat scarse in Congo and Benin.
Konrad Loghain Maximilian Xavier Sergius Arcadius dom Contravarius-Don'Paulus-Ramius y d'Alatriste-Erebus,
State Commissar for Truth and Enlightenment
((Thank you, TH3!))
Natives might not be a threat right now, but situations change. There is a clear need for at least the most basic military education for all white citizens of Congo and Benin. State Commissariat of Truth and Enlightenment will start working on the curriculum immediately.
A special Council of Commissars is being formed to define the position of the negro population in the fascist ideology and start producing propaganda directed specifically towards them. Negroes are mostly illiterate, so we have to use posters and loudspeakers, the stockpile of latter is somewhat scarse in Congo and Benin.
Konrad Loghain Maximilian Xavier Sergius Arcadius dom Contravarius-Don'Paulus-Ramius y d'Alatriste-Erebus,
State Commissar for Truth and Enlightenment
((Thank you, TH3!))
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Brabantville
Philip Auguste Lebeau sat in the center of a group of various officers in the Africa Corps. He was looking towards the direction of the woman on the stage but his attention was elsewhere, instead he listened to his officers as they discussed her speech and various other news. Turning to the man on his right, Colonel Jacques de Maupeou, he leaned closer and spoke.
"Who is this woman?"
Colonel de Maupeou turned his head and gave a light smile.
"Her name is Roni Vandermeer, sir."
"I see. What is her connection with the National Front?"
"I believe she was the editor of some newspaper and De Broqueville liked it so he appointed her a Commissar, of what I have no clue sir."
"Okay. Well, Colonel, please see to it that after she has finished her speech that you escort her to the Military Headquarters, I want to speak with her."
"Yes sir."
Colonel de Maupeou stood immediately and walked off in the direction of the stage. Philip stood and walked off, with the officers getting up to follow him.
Philip Auguste Lebeau sat in the center of a group of various officers in the Africa Corps. He was looking towards the direction of the woman on the stage but his attention was elsewhere, instead he listened to his officers as they discussed her speech and various other news. Turning to the man on his right, Colonel Jacques de Maupeou, he leaned closer and spoke.
"Who is this woman?"
Colonel de Maupeou turned his head and gave a light smile.
"Her name is Roni Vandermeer, sir."
"I see. What is her connection with the National Front?"
"I believe she was the editor of some newspaper and De Broqueville liked it so he appointed her a Commissar, of what I have no clue sir."
"Okay. Well, Colonel, please see to it that after she has finished her speech that you escort her to the Military Headquarters, I want to speak with her."
"Yes sir."
Colonel de Maupeou stood immediately and walked off in the direction of the stage. Philip stood and walked off, with the officers getting up to follow him.
Its called Absolutism. Don't just make 'isms' up for your own personal glory. I don't go around calling myself a van de Wervist. Stick to the bloody guidelines.
Shortly after the liberation of Belgium from fascist forces, a report by Supreme-General DeWitt began circulating through what remained up of the upper echelons of the military and government.
QBOnI9Ri+6w~~60_35.JPG)
((This is my secondary Character))
Name: Dominique Luc-Picarde
Position: Colonel in the Belgian Army
Date of Birth: 4th May 1888
Place of Birth: Spa, Wallonia
Nationality: Walloon
Biography: Born into a Well-off family, he was the 3rd son of 4, While his two older brothers went off to university, he enrolled in the army, and showed an imminence aptitude at strategy during the great war, however, because of his socialist views, he had always been denied promotion, until now, with a lot of the army commanders either dead or defected. He also showed a odd ability to see weapons in things that wouldn't normally been seen as such. He was one of the first deplores of the first tanks, with his brother being an engineer that worked on the project..
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((Indeed. Even I have never used the term "Savarinist," always "radical liberal." Even that is only a thing because the Fascists decided to make it a thing.
I do like to think the family is rather proud of being a symbol of Fascist loathing, though.
))
A popular song among native Africans in the Belgian colonies
Oh yeah, kill all the white man,
Oh yeah, kill all the fascists.
The white man call himself civilized,
Cause he know how to take over,
The white man come to pillage my village,
Now he tell me I have to bend over.
Oh yeah, kill all the white man,
Oh yeah, kill all the fascists.
No I do not like the fascists up in me,
He rape my people as he rape my country,
Everything I love and cherish, he try to take away,
We will be rid of him, soon come the day.
Oh yeah, kill all the white man,
Oh yeah, kill all the fascists.
Kill all the white man.
Oh yeah, kill all the white man,
Oh yeah, kill all the fascists.
The white man call himself civilized,
Cause he know how to take over,
The white man come to pillage my village,
Now he tell me I have to bend over.
Oh yeah, kill all the white man,
Oh yeah, kill all the fascists.
No I do not like the fascists up in me,
He rape my people as he rape my country,
Everything I love and cherish, he try to take away,
We will be rid of him, soon come the day.
Oh yeah, kill all the white man,
Oh yeah, kill all the fascists.
Kill all the white man.
Jules cleared his throat as he prepared to address the crowd of mostly natives but, a few Belgian and French immigrants were there as well. It was the biggest crowd to show up to a speech in Belgian Africa to date, just outside of Barbantville, the soon to be renamed capital of National Belgium.
I hear a lot about the unhappiness and apathy towards the Belgians here, not just the Fascists but, all Belgians. The Bolsheviks have been spreading lies and slandering the Belgian National Front in order to incite an uprising here to create an independent 'Africa'.
Many members of the crowd grumbled and showed signs that they liked this idea.
Jules clears his throat to get the audiences attention again.
This slander, is just that, slander. The Belgian National Front does not wish to rape, pillage or exploit Belgian Africa, we wish not to destroy but to build. I stand for you, all of you when I say I want to see Belgian Africa an equal to Belgium proper. Unlike the Bolsheviks though I do not want to do this via gimmicks like voting, or independence - they way I want to make Belgian Africa equal to Belgium is by mass education, building of infrastructure to levels found in Belgium and the betterment of all the People of Africa. No longer will I see taxation with out representation here, and I can guarantee that as long as the BNF is in control of Belgian Africa and Belgian proper I will push for improvements in life, tax money, now spent only in Belgium proper, will be equally spent on Belgian Africa. We will see great cities rise, we will see all of Africa prosper.
Yet, the Bolsheviks speak of a dream world, they speak of a world where Belgian Africa is an independent 'Congo Free state'. This while sounding appealing is actually the first step to worse exploitation, as the government of this new nation, unused to democracy and self government will easily be convinced by a foreign power to allow them in. Once these foreign powers are in they will proceed to exploit the people while paying off the corrupt government, thus the wealth, will be stripped out even faster, the land destroyed even faster and the people cared for even less then by the BNF. s the foreign corporations will want to get in and out fast, they don't want to risk government change but, they also want as much money as possible so they will do the best they possible can to take everything they can in as little time as possible. It would be a new time of Colonialism, Corporate Colonials where its not land or the people that's desired but, merely the resources. Everything else is a tool to be used and then discarded.
If you stand with the BNF if you support us in our attempt to liberate Belgium proper from the Bolsheviks, I can promise you that I will use my full power as a State Commissar of the Overseas Empire to make Africa prosper. If you stand with us long enough, we may be able to change the norm, that Europe is the place to live, in fact in the future we may just move the capital to Africa permanently.
At first there is little applause but, slowly everyone starts cheering as they have fallen in love with Van de Velde's vision.
I hear a lot about the unhappiness and apathy towards the Belgians here, not just the Fascists but, all Belgians. The Bolsheviks have been spreading lies and slandering the Belgian National Front in order to incite an uprising here to create an independent 'Africa'.
Many members of the crowd grumbled and showed signs that they liked this idea.
Jules clears his throat to get the audiences attention again.
This slander, is just that, slander. The Belgian National Front does not wish to rape, pillage or exploit Belgian Africa, we wish not to destroy but to build. I stand for you, all of you when I say I want to see Belgian Africa an equal to Belgium proper. Unlike the Bolsheviks though I do not want to do this via gimmicks like voting, or independence - they way I want to make Belgian Africa equal to Belgium is by mass education, building of infrastructure to levels found in Belgium and the betterment of all the People of Africa. No longer will I see taxation with out representation here, and I can guarantee that as long as the BNF is in control of Belgian Africa and Belgian proper I will push for improvements in life, tax money, now spent only in Belgium proper, will be equally spent on Belgian Africa. We will see great cities rise, we will see all of Africa prosper.
Yet, the Bolsheviks speak of a dream world, they speak of a world where Belgian Africa is an independent 'Congo Free state'. This while sounding appealing is actually the first step to worse exploitation, as the government of this new nation, unused to democracy and self government will easily be convinced by a foreign power to allow them in. Once these foreign powers are in they will proceed to exploit the people while paying off the corrupt government, thus the wealth, will be stripped out even faster, the land destroyed even faster and the people cared for even less then by the BNF. s the foreign corporations will want to get in and out fast, they don't want to risk government change but, they also want as much money as possible so they will do the best they possible can to take everything they can in as little time as possible. It would be a new time of Colonialism, Corporate Colonials where its not land or the people that's desired but, merely the resources. Everything else is a tool to be used and then discarded.
If you stand with the BNF if you support us in our attempt to liberate Belgium proper from the Bolsheviks, I can promise you that I will use my full power as a State Commissar of the Overseas Empire to make Africa prosper. If you stand with us long enough, we may be able to change the norm, that Europe is the place to live, in fact in the future we may just move the capital to Africa permanently.
At first there is little applause but, slowly everyone starts cheering as they have fallen in love with Van de Velde's vision.