Namur, Daughter of Flanders? — Namur coat of arms

The Story of a Lion with a Red Bend

Joint contribution by Magali Dugardin, President of the Consular Corps of the Province of Namur, and Baptiste Genette, historian specializing in heraldry.

Flag of Namur on the façade of the Bourse (Place d’Armes).

On provincial pediments—and even on the Consular Corps’ ceremonial jackets—a black lion on a yellow field, crossed by a red diagonal stripe, is proudly displayed. In heraldic language, that reads: “Or, a lion sable, armed and langued gules, crowned or, with a bend gules overall.”

A single sentence that says it all: the colours (or, sable, gules), the lion’s posture, and above all the red bend—the signature of a differentiated filiation.

For many, it is hard not to see the Flemish lion… merely “crossed out.” A gesture of antagonism? An age-old quarrel woven into the fabric? That quick reading ignores a coded, complex medieval language whose history tells quite the opposite.

Namur coat of arms: a language of signs, not slogans

Medieval heraldry rests on a standardized system. At a time when arms were legal, military and dynastic markers, every detail carried meaning. Colours (the tinctures) are codified, contrasts are mandatory, and modifications are tightly regulated.

Among these rules, the brisure (mark of cadency) is crucial: when a cadet branch or a new line inherits a coat of arms, it must alter it slightly. Thus a new identity is born, while retaining the family imprint. In other words, a brisure is not an act of rupture, but of differentiation within continuity. It says: “I come from there, but I am my own.”

A matter of counts… and of transmission

That is exactly what happened in Namur. At the end of the 12th century, Philippe the Noble inherited the County of Namur (1196–1212). Son of Baldwin V, count of Flanders and Hainaut, he broke the Flemish arms to mark his Mosan territory: he kept the black lion on a gold field, but added a red diagonal bend—a brisure.

Transmission of Namur’s arms (12th–14th c.): Philippe the Noble introduces the red brisure; Guy of Dampierre, count of Flanders, bears the lion of Flanders; Jean I of Namur confirms the arms and the lion becomes crowned.

Later, between 1263 and 1305, the county returned to Flemish hands: Guy of Dampierre, head of Flanders, administered it and passed Namur to his younger son, Jean I. Jean kept Philippe’s broken arms (with one nuance: the lion is now crowned), which then became Namur’s definitive arms. His descendants sometimes omitted the bend gules—the crown alone could serve as a brisure. Moreover, the bend is often drawn very thin (then called a cotise).

Gelre Armorial (late 14th century), folio 49v: this famous European armorial illustrates the mechanics of brisures. It shows the arms of several members of the House of Flanders, with variations both on the shields and on exterior ornaments (crests). From left to right: Guillaume I of Namur with his brothers Robert and Louis of Namur, all sons of Jean I. Note that the bend on Robert’s arms is engrailed, which constitutes a brisure of the Namur arms. On the right, Henri of Flanders, lord of Ninove, their first cousin, bears very similar arms except that the bend is not gules but compony of gules and argent.

Jean I, born in Bruges in 1276 and deceased in Paris, is an eminently European figure. Moving between the great courts of Flanders and France, he embodied the flexibility of medieval belonging, long before regional identities hardened into political borders. He fought at the Battle of the Golden Spurs on 11 July 1302 at Courtrai, as the son of the count of Flanders—an episode that would, much later, become the founding event of the Flemish Community Day. That day, leadership of the Flemish militias rested on a trio in which Gui (Guy) of Namur and Jean I of Namur—both Namurois and speakers of the langue d’oïl (French-speaking)—were joined by William of Jülich. The very composition already speaks of links: at the heart of a victory called “Flemish,” two commanders were from Namur.

Arms of Jean I (1309) and of his grandson Jean III (1425) on their respective seals. Beyond stylistic evolution, note that the bend is omitted on Jean III’s arms.

Why do people say “Namurois are slow”?

11 July 1302, Courtrai. Jean I of Namur reached the battlefield late, with reinforcements at his side. Victory followed nonetheless. From then on, the little phrase took hold: “Namurois are slow.” A local legend that is still told today—because some stories, when told well, become the reality we remember.

A contemporary reading

And it is precisely this double belonging—between Flemish heritage and Mosan anchoring—that the barred lion of Namur symbolizes. It is not a refusal. It does not erase Flanders—it tells a filiation while asserting autonomy. A symbol of differentiation, not of rupture.

From the 13th century onward, Namur established itself as a strategic crossroads: at the confluence of the Sambre and the Meuse, at the junction of routes between Flanders, Champagne, the Holy Roman Empire and the Paris Basin. A stronghold, yes, but also a place of negotiation and diplomacy. Many languages were spoken there, many crowns crossed paths, many alliances were sealed. Already, Namur projected influence far beyond its walls: it became a centre of influence at the heart of the political, cultural and diplomatic space of a region in the making.

In 2025, Namur does not look to the past with nostalgia, but with lucidity. Today this vocation is fully affirmed. Namur is the political capital of Wallonia—a place of decision-making, culture and dialogue. It is an open city, candidate for the title of European Capital of Culture 2030, strong in its heritage and its symbolic hospitality.

Namur 2030 — Candidate for European Capital of Culture.

A coat of arms as a bridge

The barred lion of Namur is not a relic: it is a living emblem—not a barrier but a bridge—an invitation to read our shared history as a fabric of shared filiations.

These trajectories remind us of something essential: Belgium’s regional identities were not forged in opposition, but through links woven over time. That is the strength of Namur’s coat of arms: it embodies a history of crossings and shared filiations. It reflects the idea of a Belgium built not on divides, but on common inheritances.

The barred lion of Namur continues to fly not as a vestige but as an active emblem—not as a wall, but as a bridge. An invitation, more than a reminder. A sign of openness and interconnection.

Animated film (2′27″) — Namur, Daughter of Flanders? The story of the “barred” lion: from the heraldic brisure to the Golden Spurs, and the origin of the saying “Namurois are slow.”