In Brussels, Cancel Culture Is Alive and Well | Opinion

Liberal media and intelligentsia insist on telling people that there's no such thing as "cancel culture"—and that the Right is making it up to fire up its base. But as I stood behind the metal grates blocking the doors of the venue hosting the recent National Conservatism conference in Brussels—looking at a dozen or more police sent in by the mayor of that city to shut it down—I wondered: "Can they continue to deny it?"

When I was asked to be a member of this year's organizing committee for the conference—also known as NatCon—I knew it would be a lot of work. But I had no expectation that we would be canceled.

After months of planning, NatCon Brussels was set to kick off on Tuesday, April 16 at the same Brussels venue where it had been held in 2022, the Concert Noble. But to our great surprise, just a few days before, the owners of the venue announced that, having caved to pressure from the Socialist mayor of Brussels City, they were pulling out of hosting the conference.

Yoram Hazony—chairman of the Edmund Burke Foundation, which co-organized the conference—told The Telegraph "if Brussels can't host both sides of the argument, then maybe the capital of Europe can't be in Brussels."

With stunning acumen, the Burke Foundation—and its co-organizer, the think tank MCC Brussels—were able to secure a second venue: the Sofitel Hotel. This was no small feat, given the 500 participants and speakers, which included current and former prime ministers, party leaders, members of the European Parliament, political philosophers, journalists, and historians.

On Monday the 15th—the day before the conference—this second venue broke its contract, citing "objections" from European Council officials who were also scheduled to stay at the hotel. But the mayor of Etterbeek (a district of Brussels) indiscreetly boasted to the media that he was  responsible for the cancellation.

With less than 24 hours to go, the challenge of finding a third venue in Brussels was daunting. Fortunately, the generous owner of the Claridge—a Tunisian immigrant and supporter of free speech—jumped into the fray to offer his venue. And his staff worked through the night to get the place ready for the conference.

Yet once again, on Tuesday, the powers that be stepped in. After a morning of speeches and panels, just as former Brexit Party leader Nigel Farage was on stage, Belgian police—a lot of them—arrived at the Claridge. They came armed with orders from the mayor of the Saint-Josse district to shut down the event—and physically remove all participants.

In his four-page order, the mayor claimed the event was a risk to "public order" because people outside might not like what was being said inside. He claimed violent protests might break out. More important, perhaps, was his ideological opposition to what was being said at the conference.

In fact, the mayor made no effort to hide his disdain for the conference and its participants, fretting that it brought together people "who share a 'national conservative' vision of society...from the...conservative and religious right and from the European far right."

"That vision," he wrote, "is not only ethically conservative...but also focused on the defense of 'national sovereignty', which implies, among other things, a 'Eurosceptic attitude.'" Worse, some of the attendees were "reputed to be traditionalists." Gasp!

With support of ADF International, a legal organization that defends the right of conscience and free speech worldwide, the organizers were able to file an immediate challenge to the mayor's order. Meanwhile, the police stood guard, preventing people from entering—or exiting—the venue.

At the same time, local activists contacted the conference caterers and other suppliers and threatened them with violence. The venue owner's car was towed. And elected members of the European and U.K. parliaments, and personalities such as Éric Zemmour, president of the French Reconquête Party, were all forced to stand outside in the rain. Not even the former prefect of the Catholic Church's Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal Gerhard Müller, was allowed to enter.

In an embarrassing attempt to display moral superiority, the mayor—who didn't even bother to pretend his order was politically neutral—tweeted: "I issued [the] order...to ban the 'National Conservatism Conference' event to guarantee public safety. In Etterbeek, Brussels City and Saint-Josse, the far-right is not welcome."

The "far-right" has been the slur du jour for a while. But here was a public official gleefully using his political power to shut down a conversation he didn't like.

On Tuesday afternoon, international media started covering the standoff—and Western leaders reacted. The prime ministers of the U.K., Italy, and Hungary spoke out; U.S. Senator J.D. Vance (R-Ohio) reportedly drafted a letter to the Belgian ambassador to the U.S. And in Belgium, the prime minister—hardly a friend to conservatives—tweeted: "What happened at the Claridge today is unacceptable.... Banning political meetings is unconstitutional. Full stop."

An emergency court session that evening resulted in a judge finally overturning the mayor's order. The conference proceeded as planned on Wednesday, amid jubilance and a guarded sense of victory. At least now, we said, they can't say there's no such thing as "cancel culture."

But who's to say that this won't keep happening? As Frank Furedi, director of MCC Brussels, said on Thursday, "This was just a trial run. The fight is only just beginning.... Instead of engaging with our arguments, [our opponents] just send in the police."

This is why we have to fight back even harder. It is why we all have to stop giving our money to businesses that hate us. And it is why we have to support and reward businesses that are willing to stand up for freedom of expression and open debate against cancel culture.

Additionally, with an eye on the European Parliament elections in June, we should vote and support politicians who dare to take on the left-wing thugs who threaten violence when ideas they don't like are presented.

Europeans are notoriously lukewarm about voting; but in the upcoming elections, the stakes are higher than ever. The attempted cancelling of the NatCon conference not only reflected the mentality of the mayor of Brussels; it is also the mindset of many of the spineless politicians who inhabit the Brussels swamp. Come June, they should get a taste of what cancel culture looks like from the other side—and be tossed out in the rain, while the doors are locked behind them.

Ellen Fantini is the managing editor of The European Conservative and a member of the National Conservatism Conference committee.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.