Having studied four years at Belgium’s University of Louvain in the early 60s, I know Belgium and its people very well.  Belgians are not violent people, but they have known violence. 

In both World Wars, German armies passed through Belgium on their way to France, leaving their mark in blood and ashes. In August 1914, the Germans burned Louvain to the ground, including its magnificent 15^th century library.  Over 5,000 civilians perished, made an example of what happens to people who resist.

            In May 1940, Germans once again assaulted the town, this time with artillery and from the air.  Once again the university library was destroyed by fire.  Once again civilians perished in the streets.

            One evening, while I was enjoying a beer with some of my Belgian friends in a local pub, two Germans in uniform, probably on their way back to Germany from NATO headquarters in Brussels, entered and sat down at a table near the door.  The room immediately fell as silent as a tomb.  No one moved to serve the Germans. The Belgian next to me, who had been eyeing a man in his 30s sitting across the room, finally got up, walked over to the Germans, and told them they had better leave.  They did.

            When my friend returned, I asked him, “What was that all about?”  He replied, “You see that man over there (pointing to the man he had been watching)?  He saw his mother and father murdered by the Germans in the middle of the street, just outside this place.  I know him very well.  If the Germans had not left, he would have killed them.”  I have never felt so chilled.

            Belgians are warm, friendly, and peaceful people.  But they also have long memories.  The slaughter by Islamic terrorists last week is the worst atrocity they have experienced since WW II.  The children of parents who were killed or maimed will not forget.  The question is: Will they take their revenge on the Muslims in their midst?