How attacks by violent mob reflect growing divide within Belgium's society

In early May, violent clashes erupted in Brussels' Molenbeek district after a mob of football fans—primarily supporters of FC Brugge—descended on the immigrant-heavy neighbourhood.

What was supposed to be a festive day for a football match between Brugge and RSC Anderlecht turned into a xenophobic rampage, leaving over 80 people injured and more than 60 arrested.

The attackers, some reportedly masked and organized, stormed through Molenbeek targeting residents they believed to be Muslim, vandalizing property, and assaulting civilians, including a local shopkeeper and his son. The attack, described as a “ratonnade” or racist mob assault, shocked the nation and drew attention to deep-rooted social, political, and ethnic divisions in Belgium. In response, around 100 Molenbeek residents held a silent vigil, laying flowers and holding signs reading “No fascist violence in my neighbourhood.”

Many in the community see the violence not just as a football-related outburst, as an article by the Swiss NZZ points out, but as symptomatic of broader societal tensions, including rising xenophobia and the marginalization of immigrant communities. The presence of far-right elements among Brugge’s fanbase—some linked to racist chants and Nazi symbols—has been long acknowledged, with even the club taking disciplinary actions against its supporters in the past. The clashes began when a group of 100 to 200 Brugge supporters forcibly exited a metro train earlier than expected and marched into Molenbeek. 

Reports indicate they specifically targeted people of Maghrebi origin, a group with strong roots in the area. According to their article, local witnesses claim the attackers were highly coordinated, suggesting possible involvement by trained individuals. Victims of the assault included elderly residents and women wearing headscarves. In the aftermath, video footage circulated widely on social media showing retaliatory violence by local youth. In several clips, Brugge fans are seen being beaten even after they are incapacitated. 

Some young residents interviewed described the counterattacks as acts of self-defence and expressed no remorse, citing the attackers’ brutality and the perceived failure of authorities to protect the neighbourhood. The publication identifies this violence as an indication for the long-standing fractures in Belgian society—between immigrants and native-born citizens, between the poorer French-speaking regions and the wealthier Flemish north, and between different cultural and linguistic communities. These divisions are rooted in historical inequalities, including the former dominance of French-speaking elites and the marginalization of Flemish communities, which have since become economically dominant. 

Today, regions like Molenbeek remain some of the poorest in the capital despite their proximity to the center of Brussels. Accusations of neglect and double standards by authorities have fuelled mistrust. Some residents believe the Flemish government failed to act pre-emptively and that the delayed police response was intentional. Such theories, while extreme, underscore the depth of alienation felt in communities like Molenbeek. Local politicians, including Molenbeek’s mayor and members of Belgium’s Socialist Party, criticized the failure to prevent the unrest and called for accountability from Flemish authorities. 

Molenbeek’s complex identity—home to roughly 100,000 residents, over 40% of whom are Muslim—makes it a focal point of Belgium’s immigration and integration challenges. Though its proportion of foreign-born residents is not unusually high for the capital, seeing as the share of residents without a Belgian passport is almost twice as high in the affluent municipalities of Etterbeek and Ixelles, which are home to many people who work at the EU's institutions, economic disadvantage and inadequate urban planning have created pockets of social exclusion. 

Many immigrants, particularly from Morocco, settled in abandoned industrial areas left behind by Flemish families during deindustrialization. Despite efforts to condemn the violence, the article suggests that the community’s retaliatory actions may have exacerbated tensions. While the xenophobic attacks rightfully drew national outrage, the vigilante response highlights a lack of trust in institutional justice. Political scientist Jean-Michel De Waele points out that this phenomenon has been largely economically driven. 

"In Paris, poorer sections of the population have been driven out of the city by high real-estate prices. In Brussels, they can still afford to live close to the city center," he says. De Waele says it is not the spatial separation that worries him, but rather the fact that the different parts of the population have little to do with each other. In the wake of the violence, Molenbeek residents are eager to return to normalcy and avoid further scrutiny. However, as the article has portrayed, the events have laid bare Belgium’s unresolved cultural and political rifts—raising urgent questions about belonging, identity, and the capacity of institutions to protect all citizens equally. 

By Nazrin Sadigova