Left: The ‘Stroppendragers’ procession in Ghent (2025), and a statue of the infamous Charles V (1500 – 1558).
In the Middle Ages, Ghent (Belgium) was not just a city—it was a powerhouse. Its cloth industry, driven by skilled guilds and international trade, made it one of the wealthiest urban centers in Europe. Its citizens were proud, independent, and deeply protective of the rights they had wrestled from kings and counts over generations.
But by the 16th century, that proud city found itself at odds with the most powerful ruler in Europe—its own native son, Charles V. What followed was not just a symbolic punishment involving ropes and bare feet—it was the culmination of a long economic struggle, and a rebellion rooted in one thing: taxes.
From Cloth to Crisis
Ghent’s rise began in the 13th century, when it harnessed the cloth trade like no other. Raw wool, often from England and Scotland, was transformed into high-quality textiles and shipped across the continent. Trade flowed in and out along the Scheldt River, and for a time, the artificial Lieve Canal gave Ghent an additional edge with a direct route to the sea via Damme.
The city flourished. Its population boomed. Grand halls and belfries rose along the riverside quays. The guilds of weavers, fullers, and merchants didn’t just make money—they held political power.
But no golden age lasts forever. By the late 15th century, Ghent’s dominance began to fade. The siltation of key waterways, competition from rising ports like Antwerp, and shifts in international trade routes all chipped away at its position. The cloth industry slowed. Revenues declined. Yet the city remained large—and expensive to govern.
The Emperor and the Bill
When Charles V inherited the Spanish crown and the title of Holy Roman Emperor, he also inherited the Low Countries—including Ghent. But Charles’s ambitions were continental. He fought wars in Italy, Germany, North Africa, and against the Ottomans. To fund these campaigns, he looked to his subjects for money—lots of it.
In 1539, Charles demanded a large “bijkomende bede”—an extraordinary tax. Cities across the region grumbled, but most complied. Ghent did not.
The people of Ghent insisted they couldn’t pay. More than that, they argued they shouldn’t have to. They had charters of privilege dating back centuries, giving them a say in taxation. They believed they were partners in governance—not subjects to be milked. And in this case, their coffers were genuinely stretched.
What began as refusal turned to rebellion. The city council dithered, then sided with the people. Charles saw it as defiance—worse, treason.
Humiliation and Control
In 1540, Charles entered Ghent with an army. There was no battle. The city surrendered. But the punishment was meant to last.
He stripped Ghent of its ancient rights. The guilds lost power. A permanent citadel was built to remind the city who was boss. And in a gesture calculated to break their pride, a group of prominent citizens were forced to walk barefoot through the streets, dressed in white shirts with nooses around their necks, to publicly beg the emperor’s forgiveness.
The message was clear: rebellion would not be tolerated.
From Shame to Symbol
The story of the Stroppendragers—the noose bearers—has lived on ever since. What was meant as a moment of submission became a symbol of resistance. Today, the image of the white-clad procession, rope around the neck, is remembered not as a disgrace, but as a reminder of Ghent’s defiant spirit.
Each year during the Gentse Feesten, Ghent honors this history with a procession of the Stroppendragers. Participants march barefoot in white gowns and with ropes around their necks—not in shame, but in proud memory of those who stood up to imperial power. What was once forced humiliation has become a celebration of local identity, resilience, and the enduring refusal to bow quietly.
