Brussels

Brussels occupies a singular place among European capitals, merging layers of medieval street patterns with the monumental scale of 19th- and 20th-century planning, and the sleek glass façades of contemporary institutions. As both the political heart of Belgium and a focal point for international governance, the city resists simple categorization. Its dense urban fabric—scarred by the removal of fortifications and wholesale redevelopment—hints at the complex forces that have shaped its growth. Yet tucked into the weaving alleys of the Îlot Sacré, amid modern office towers and beneath the leafy canopy of the Sonian Forest, one still finds echoes of an earlier Brussels: a town built on the gentle rise beside the Senne, modest dwellings clustering around a fordable crossing.

Centuries before European summits gathered in the shade of the Berlaymont, Brussels was a settlement of farmers and traders whose fortunes remained bound to the ebb and flow of the Senne. Its second walls, still partially visible at the Halle Gate, and the fragmentary ruins of the first ramparts recall an era in which the city defended itself against neighboring counts and foreign armies alike. The modest Gothic spires of the Cathedral of St. Michael and St. Gudula stand where once wooden palisades gave way to stone, a testament to a town that steadily assumed new responsibilities throughout the Middle Ages.

The 19th century brought transformation on a scale that few European capitals have known. In 1830, Brussels became the seat of a newly independent kingdom in which French was proclaimed the language of government and culture. Emboldened by its status, successive city councils ordered the demolition of vast swaths of narrow lanes and timber-framed houses to make room for ministries, barracks and grand avenues. That impulse—seen most starkly in the razing of Victor Horta’s Maison du Peuple—would later provoke widespread derision and give birth to the term “Brusselization,” shorthand for the thoughtless replacement of heritage with concrete monoliths. Only a fragmentary historic core survived, a handful of streets encircling the Grand-Place, where Flamboyant Gothic meets Baroque guildhall façades in a UNESCO-protected ensemble.

The topography of Brussels remains subtle but consequential. At an average elevation of 57 meters, the city spreads across the Brabantine Plateau, its contours shaped by the Senne and tributaries like the Maalbeek and Woluwe. Hydrological engineering in the 19th century enclosed the river beneath broad boulevards, but vestiges of its course still influence street alignments and park layouts. On the southeastern fringe, the Sonian Forest rises to 127.5 meters—the highest point within the Brussels-Capital Region—while the central boulevards lie some 15 meters lower, framing a cityscape of gentle undulation rather than dramatic peaks.

Administratively, Brussels defies easy definition. The Brussels-Capital Region consists of 19 municipalities, among them the City of Brussels proper, which hosts the Royal Palace, the Federal Parliament and the lion’s share of national institutions. Yet these 19 communes function more like baronies in a single metropolis, each with its own mayor and council, a fragmentation that many argue weakens governance. Proposals to merge them into a unified council surface periodically, drawing comparisons to London’s boroughs or Paris’s arrondissements, but for now the patchwork endures.

It is within this region that the European Union has woven its own quarter—an enclave of mirrored office blocks and modern plazas. Since Malta, Luxembourg and Strasbourg host judicial and parliamentary sessions, Brussels nonetheless remains the de facto capital of the Union. The European Commission’s Berlaymont building, the Europa Council’s sinewy glass walls, and the Espace Léopold complex testify to a political gravity that extends beyond Belgium’s borders. NATO headquarters stands nearby, alongside the Benelux secretariat, underscoring Brussels’s role as a locus for international diplomacy.

Demographically, the city projects a paradox. Although the Brussels-Capital Region boasts the highest GDP per capita in Belgium, its residents contend with the lowest disposable incomes. More than half a million commuters traverse its boundaries daily, drawn by job opportunities in government, finance and services. The metropolitan area swells to some 2.7 million inhabitants when satellite towns are included, part of a broader conurbation known as the Flemish Diamond that links Antwerp, Ghent, Leuven and beyond. Within the compact 162 square kilometers of the region, population density peaks in Saint-Josse-ten-Noode—over 20,000 people per square kilometer—while wooded enclaves like Watermael-Boitsfort offer respite at under 2,000.

A notable feature of Brussels is its linguistic evolution. Historically a Dutch-speaking town using the local Brabantian dialect, it witnessed a steady shift toward French from the late 18th century onward. By the turn of the 20th century, French had become the language of law, education and commerce, a vehicle for social mobility that Dutch could not match until its revival in the latter half of the century. Today Brussels is officially bilingual. Public services, street signs and government documents appear in both French and Dutch, though French predominates as the lingua franca. English and a host of other tongues thrive in neighborhoods transformed by migration, giving the city a vibrancy matched only by its polyphony.

Architectural diversity is perhaps Brussels’s most visible hallmark. Aside from a handful of medieval structures in the Îlot Sacré and near Sainte-Catherine, most of the city’s built heritage dates from later periods. Neoclassical splendor radiates around the Royal Quarter, where the palace, the Palace of the Nation and the Academy Palace echo Louis XVI’s symmetry. Nearby, the Royal Saint-Hubert Galleries—one of Europe’s earliest covered arcades—reveal a 19th-century penchant for gilded ironwork and glass.

Art Nouveau defines another chapter of Brussels’s story. The houses of Victor Horta—the Hôtel Tassel, Solvay and van Eetvelde—constitute a World Heritage ensemble. Their sinuous iron beams and organic motifs captured the optimism of turn-of-the-century Belgian modernism, a response to industrialization that sought to reconcile craft and progress. Schaerbeek, Ixelles and Saint-Gilles still display rows of Art Nouveau façades, where floral reliefs animate brick and stone. In Molenbeek and Forest, Art Deco temples arise in the interwar era, their geometric lines framing civic and religious functions alike. The Basilique of the Sacred Heart at Koekelberg fuses Art Deco with neo-Byzantine forms, its vast dome towering above the western suburbs.

The Atomium offers yet another architectural pivot. Constructed for Expo 58 on the Heysel Plateau, this 103-meter steel-clad model of an iron crystal captured the scientific zeal of post-war Europe. Nine spheres, linked by tubular passages, now house exhibitions and viewpoints, while Mini-Europe’s miniature maquettes stand at the foot of its monumental structure.

Beyond bricks and steel, Brussels nurtures a rich cultural tapestry. Over eighty museums enumerate its artistic achievements: the Royal Museums of Fine Arts display works by Bruegel, van Dyck and Rubens; the Magritte Museum contains the world’s largest collection of the surrealist’s paintings; the Musical Instruments Museum—housed in the Old England department store—unfolds musical history in an operatic showcase of 8,000 instruments. A network of independent galleries and the Brussels Museums Council promote access through the Brussels Card, granting transport and museum entry, while nocturnal openings and street-level events democratize art for young and seasoned minds alike.

Graphic storytelling finds its capital here, in homage to the pioneers of Belgian comics. Tintin, Lucky Luke and the Smurfs grace walls across the city in a curated Comic Book Route, injecting color and humor into urban renewal projects. The Belgian Comic Strip Center occupies a Victor Horta–designed building, celebrating sequential art within an Art Nouveau interior. Street artists augment this tradition with murals that shift as swiftly as the city itself.

Performance also claims its stage. La Monnaie and the Royal Park Theatre uphold operatic traditions, while the Kaaitheater champions experimental forms. Annual festivals—Kunstenfestivaldesarts in May, the Festival of Europe in early May, the Iris Festival each spring—activate public spaces with dance, theatre and music. The Queen Elisabeth Competition, hosted at BOZAR, remains one of the world’s premier contests for young musicians, while Studio 4 at Le Flagey resonates with symphonic and choral performances. In summer, Couleur Café and the Brussels Summer Festival animate parklands and plazas with global rhythms.

Gastronomy reflects Brussels’s layered identities. Waffles piped with cream, moules-frites served alongside a selection of lambic beers, and streets lined with friteries evoke family-run traditions. Renowned chocolatiers—Neuhaus, Godiva, Léonidas—continue a legacy born in the Saint-Hubert Galleries more than a century ago. Endives white as bone emerged by accident in the Botanical Garden. And at the Place du Jeu de Balle, row upon row of stalls form the Old Market, while the nearby Sablon boasts antiques dealers whose collections rival those of Parisian galleries.

Retail therapy unfolds along the Rue Neuve, whose 230,000 weekly visitors percolate through international chains, and within the Royal Saint-Hubert Galleries, where luxury boutiques sparkle under stained-glass ceilings. Avenue Louise remains a bastion of high fashion, and the Matongé district pulses with Congolese fabrics and cuisine. Beyond the inner ring, Woluwe Shopping Center and Docks Bruxsel offer suburban alternatives, accommodating families and commuters drawn by affordability and convenience.

Brussels’s economy pivots on service industries: government, diplomacy, finance and business services. Euronext Brussels anchors the nation’s financial markets, while multinational headquarters cluster near the Northern Quarter—nicknamed “Little Manhattan”—and the South Tower looms as the tallest edifice in Belgium. Despite the region’s high GDP, half of the workforce commutes from Flanders and Wallonia, underscoring how wealth is both generated and dispersed beyond municipal boundaries.

Transport networks bind the city to its surroundings. The metro, the only rapid-transit rail in Belgium, threads beneath congested boulevards. Overground trams and buses complement the STIB/MIVB network, while the North–South rail connection channels regional and international trains through Brussels-Central. Airports at Zaventem and Charleroi link to global destinations, and the Port of Brussels taps inland shipping along the Senne’s forgotten course. Yet daily gridlock cabins motorists in what some surveys name the world’s most congested city, a paradox in a metropolis famed for efficient governance.

In Brussels, the layers of history, power and art converge with everyday life. From the echo of Gothic vaults to the glint of mirrored towers; from forums of decision-makers to markets overflowing with Belgian endives and comic-strip heroes; from symphonic halls to open-air festivals—the city resists simplification. It challenges visitors and residents alike to read its streets as palimpsests, to discern the traces of a medieval hamlet beneath the weight of modernity. For those willing to look beyond its monumental façades, Brussels reveals itself as a city of subtle transitions, where the past endures in fragments and the future assembles itself daily in glass and steel.