“It’s disgusting – they’re absolute animals. And the noise! Always making a racket.” Sometimes she would storm into the building to give the students a piece of her mind. “But what can you do, one woman against all those lads? They mock you so much you end up feeling like you’re the one making a fool of yourself.” And the police refused to act, she grumbled. “They’re just glad the junkies are gone.”
Fed up with the obnoxious loudmouth frat boys
The neighbours weren’t the only ones fed up with the behaviour of these “obnoxious loudmouth frat boys”, as a former member of the Ritz sorority, part of Tragos, later put it. She knew what she was talking about, having once dated a Banalitas member. In late 1995, the fraternity went too far when they put up sexist recruitment posters (“Deep inside… every woman wants a Banalitas member”) and homophobic ones (“Better ten beers down your gullet than ten queers in your bed”). It was the last straw for the university’s Executive Board. The Banalitas leadership was summoned for a dressing-down and told in no uncertain terms that their funding would be pulled and the fraternity would be barred from official university events unless they “immediately cease distributing these kinds of posters and refrain from activities that, even viewed generously, can only be deemed inappropriate”.
“Too pathetic for words”
The director of Student Services at the time, Lieve van Coppenolle, had already cut ties with the fraternity after “being disgusted and outraged to learn about the posters”. Banalitas members would now have to take urgent matters directly to the Executive Board. “I will only reconsider my position if you publish a clear and unequivocal statement in Observant renouncing this contemptible form of publicity and offering your apologies.” A meeting between the director and the fraternity followed, and a week later Banalitas published a letter in Observant: “We very much regret that the slogans used could have led to an interpretation that was in no way our intention.” The posters were withdrawn. The letter itself, “too pathetic for words”, provoked scornful reactions.
Sheep and goat semen spread on bread
Stories about the fraternity continued to circulate, including tales of hazing rituals involving sheep and goat semen spread on bread. In October 2002, the fraternity admitted they hadn’t recruited a single new member for two years. From fifty members at its peak, Banalitas was now dwindling to extinction. According to one of the fifteen remaining members at the time, “First-years these days want to earn their degree in four years and only join big student associations that don’t take up too much of their time. As a small fraternity, we’ve drawn the short straw.”