The Port City Politician Now Shaping Flanders’ Infrastructure Agenda

Antwerp has always treated its port as the city’s economic lungs. Nearly every local politician makes a pilgrimage to the docks at some point, but few stay as closely tied to the quay walls as Annick De Ridder. Over two decades, she has moved from municipal council work to a regional cabinet post that places her in charge of highways, bridges, ports and even the playing fields of Flanders. Her trajectory says a great deal about how infrastructure politics work in Belgium’s northern region: patient, technically dense, and often shaped by the long shadow of the Scheldt.
Born in Wilrijk in January 1979, De Ridder grew up in the orbit of Antwerp. She studied law at the University of Antwerp and practised as an attorney before making the jump into politics. That legal background continues to show in her style: she tends to arrive at debates with specific clauses, timeframes and cost figures rather than broad ideological statements. Friends and critics describe her the same way — direct, businesslike, and less interested in symbolic gestures than in getting a project across the finish line.
Her political home is the N-VA, the centre-right Flemish nationalist party that has become the dominant force in Flemish politics. De Ridder was elected to the Antwerp municipal council in 2007. Six years later, she became an alderman with responsibility for the port, urban development and related economic files. It was a fitting assignment for someone who had already made the case that Antwerp’s future depends on the competitiveness of Europe’s second-largest port complex. During her years as alderman, she pushed for new container capacity, supported the Oosterweel link — the long-debated completion of the Antwerp ring road — and defended major projects against neighbourhood opposition. Not everyone liked the pace, but the city’s business community saw her as a reliable ally.
She later moved into the Flemish Parliament, where she served on committees dealing with public works, mobility and energy. In 2022, after the merger of the ports of Antwerp and Zeebrugge into Port of Antwerp-Bruges, she became chair of the port authority’s board. That role gave her direct insight into the operational and geopolitical pressures facing a European gateway port, from competing with Rotterdam to managing the energy transition on the docks.
The real turning point came after the 2024 Flemish elections. When the new government was formed under Minister-President Matthias Diependaele, De Ridder received the mobility, public works, ports and sport portfolio. The mix may sound odd at first — why combine highways with sport? — but it reflects a practical logic. In Flanders, sports infrastructure is partly financed through public works budgets, and local sports facilities often depend on the same municipal and regional planning machinery that manages roads and public spaces. De Ridder has framed the portfolio as a way to connect daily mobility, economic infrastructure and quality of life.
Her biggest challenges sit in the public works file. The Oosterweel project remains the most visible test. After decades of legal battles, citizen referendums and redesigns, the project is now under construction, with major works covering parts of the ring road and building a tunnel under the Scheldt. De Ridder has to keep the schedule moving while managing budget risks, noise complaints, traffic disruption and the inevitable political pressure that comes with an infrastructure project of this scale. She has argued that delaying further would be more expensive and more damaging than pushing ahead, a position consistent with her long career supporting the project.
She also has to deal with the aftermath of years of underinvestment in Flemish roads and bridges. Many assets are ageing, and maintenance budgets have not kept pace with the region’s population and freight growth. At the same time, local governments are pushing for safer cycling routes, better public transport and fewer heavy trucks through village centres. De Ridder’s approach appears to be based on practical trade-offs: invest in the busiest freight corridors, keep the port accessible, but also fund targeted improvements for cyclists and pedestrians where demand is highest. It is not a slogan-friendly agenda, but it matches her reputation as a manager rather than a visionary.
Critics sometimes say she is too close to the construction and port sectors, and that her Antwerp perspective dominates the regional agenda. Cities like Ghent, Hasselt and Bruges have their own mobility problems that do not always fit neatly into the Antwerp-centred logic of the port and ring road. Others note that her direct style can come across as impatient when dealing with community groups or local councils. Still, even opponents rarely question her command of the technical details. In a political system where coalition agreements often leave little room for surprises, competence with a thick file can be a form of power.
Her supporters argue that the region needs exactly this kind of operator: someone willing to take responsibility for long-term infrastructure without promising unrealistic quick fixes. De Ridder has repeatedly emphasised that finishing projects on time and on budget is a form of respect for taxpayers. It is a simple message, but in a country where large public works are often synonymous with delay, it carries weight.
Of course, the next few years will test whether that message can survive contact with reality. Construction costs have risen, environmental permitting remains complex, and public patience with disruption is limited. A politician who builds a career on getting things done must now do it on a regional scale, with multiple governments watching and the next election always somewhere on the horizon.
Annick De Ridder is not a household name outside Belgium, and she is unlikely to become one. But inside Flanders, she has become a central figure in the debate over how the region should move — by truck, train, bicycle, barge or car — and how it should pay for that movement. For a politician who started by listening to the cranes of Antwerp, the whole region is now the worksite.