Those looking for a solution to the wave of anger and distrust sweeping Western democracies should have a look at an experiment in European democracy taking place in a small region in eastern Belgium.

Starting in September, the parliament representing the German-speaking region of Belgium will hand some of its powers to a citizens’ assembly drafted by lot. It’ll be the first time a political institution creates a permanent structure to involve citizens in political decision making.

It’s a move Belgian media has rightly hailed as “historic.” I was in parliament the night MPs from all six parties moved past ideological differences to endorse the bill. It was a courageous move, a sign to other politicians — who tend to see their voters as a threat rather than a resource — that citizens should be trusted, not feared, or “spun.”

Nowhere else in the world will everyday citizens be so consistently involved in shaping the future of their community. In times of massive, widespread distrust of party politics, German-speaking Belgians will be empowered to put the issues they care about on the agenda, to discuss potential solutions, and to monitor the follow-up of their recommendations as they pass through parliament and government. Politicians, in turn, will be able to tap independent citizens’ panels to deliberate over thorny political issues.

This experiment is happening on a small scale: Belgium’s German-speaking community, the country’s third linguistic region, is the smallest federal entity in Europe. But its powers are comparable with those of Scotland or the German province of North Rhine-Westphalia, and the lessons of its experiment with a “people’s senate” will have implications for democrats across Europe.

The German-speaking community of Belgium [...] is plugging everyday citizens into the heart of public decision-making.

As manifested by Brexit, the Yellow Jacket protests in France and climate activists across Europe, citizens no longer feel trusted or taken seriously. Ticking a box on a ballot paper every five years no longer feels like enough. And some topics are simply too toxic to be solved by party politics alone — or too complex to put to a Yes or No referendum. The Belgian experiment is an opportunity to take seriously the idea of involving citizens in our institutions before political discontent tears down our democratic processes.

Ireland set up citizens’ assemblies to discuss gay marriage and abortion. In both cases, the proposals put forward by citizens were ratified in a national referendum and led to constitutional change. South Australia has invited a highly diverse cross-section of society to help solve the controversial issue of nuclear waste storage. The murdered Polish Mayor Paweł Adamowicz used citizens’ assemblies on a very regular basis in Gdansk. And Madrid has just installed a permanent citizens’ observatory drafted by lot.

The German-speaking community of Belgium — a mostly rural region along the German border that only became Belgian in 1920 — is going further: It is plugging everyday citizens into the heart of public decision-making.

Its Bürgerrat (Citizens’ Council), which will consist of 24 members who each serve 18 months, will set the agenda. Its members will define the questions, but not give the answers. They will instead organize regular Bürgerversammlungen (citizens’ assemblies) made up of at most 50 people who will meet for three weekends over three months. These panels will be allowed to invite experts to help them learn about the topic and draft independent policy proposals. Parliament will be bound to organizing two hearings with the assembly’s participants and then to respond to their recommendations.

Members of the Citizens’ Council will be drawn by lot among a pool of previous members of the citizens’ assemblies and will convene once a month. They will decide how large the next citizens’ assemblies need to be — and how long they should last. The composition of both bodies will be representative of the larger population in terms of gender, age, education and residence. Being Belgian won’t be a prerequisite. Every inhabitant of the region can be drafted, provided they are at least 16 years old and don’t hold political office. Participation won’t be mandatory, but those who join in the process will have their costs covered and receive a modest per diem.

It’s a unique model, designed by a group of 14 international experts brought together by G1000, Belgium’s leading platform for democratic innovation. All of them believe the so-called Ostbelgien Modell can be scaled up and replicated in other countries to respond to ever more vocal, and critical, citizens.

The German-speaking community of Belgium has decided to tackle a major democratic challenge head on. By giving its citizens an equal opportunity to help develop future policy in an informed and structured way, it is likely to be better equipped to survive the storm.

David Van Reybrouck is the author of "Against Elections: The Case for Democracy" (Random House U.K., 2016). He is co-founder of G1000.