Not the Brussels that Rico knew

Rico says he was in Brussels in 1969, however, when things were different. The Belgians have let in a few foreigners since then (including a number from the Middle East), and now they're paying the price, according to this article by Leo Cendrowicz at Time.com:

On a crisp, sunny morning last week, a man strolled into a Brussels courtroom, pulled out a gun, and shot both the judge and a court clerk in the head with a 7.65mm pistol before fleeing. The double killing stunned the country, which prides itself on its cozy, tranquil way of life. Bewildered judges and lawyers described the incident as "disgusting", "unacceptable", and "an assassination of justice itself". Government ministers pledged to step up security around the law courts, while Belgian media echoed the outrage: "An attack on a judge is an attack on all of us," said the daily newspaper, De Morgan.
The local Brussels police arrested the alleged killer, Abdollazim Fathi Valmi, a 47-year-old homeless man originally from Iran, who promptly confessed that he was taking revenge because the judge, Isabelle Brandon, evicted him three years ago. Though Belgians may be tempted to dismiss the episode as an isolated case involving a disturbed individual, it has further dramatized a string of violent incidents that have Belgians and non-Belgians alike concerned about a collapse of law and order in both Brussels and Belgium.
Brussels still has one of the lowest homicide rates in Europe. But that is little consolation to a country shaken by shootings, riots, and prison breaks. "Brussels is not Durban, Mexico City, or even Chicago," says Dirk Jacobs, a sociology professor at Brussels Free University. "But it is clear that the city— and the country at large— is confronted with unprecedented social problems, and policy makers seem to be spending their energy on other topics."
It is a matter of diplomatic concern because Brussels serves not only as the capital of the nation, but is the home of most of the European Union's institutions. In March, the president of the European Parliament President demanded that Belgium provide special security around the E.U. institutions after a series of mugging incidents involving Members of the European Parliament.
Brussels has given a fair impression of lawlessness in recent weeks. Jewelry store robberies left three dead, including a mother of three who was driving down a street when the thieves tried to seize her Renault. But Belgium as a whole has been rattled by crime news. Just last year, a series of high-profile prison breaks embarrassed the Belgian state, including one spectacular escape that sprung three gangsters from a Bruges prison yard with a hijacked helicopter. A riot in another prison was so violent that it triggered a strike by the country's entire jail staff. Prisons are woefully antiquated and overcrowded: they creak with about 10,000 inmates, some 2,000 above official capacity. Indeed, earlier this year, a group of Belgian prisoners started serving time across the border in the Netherlands, as the government began renting Dutch jail cells.,
"Public opinion is not used to this," says Marc Hooghe, a Professor of Political Science at the Catholic University of Leuven. "We think of ourselves as a nice, small, friendly place, where these kind of things don't happen." The violence is partly blamed on the influx of cheap weapons into the country over recent years: Kalashnikovs, unknown in Brussels until recently, are now relatively easy to obtain on the black market, and have helped spur a nascent drug trade.
Then there is the poverty gap: although Brussels is one of Europe's richest cities, there are pockets of deprivation. Particularly vulnerable are the city's large foreign-born communities, who often feel trapped in a downward cycle of poor education and low social mobility. More than 30% of the Brussels' population is foreign-born, concentrated on the north and west side of the city, in the Molenbeek, Saint Josse, and Schaerbeek communes. Last September, the arrest of a 14-year-old boy sparked a full-scale riot in the run-down district of Molenbeek, with police coming under attack from stones and Molotov cocktails, while cars in the area were torched. The rioters were dominated by Moroccan-born immigrants, who claimed they were being persecuted. Police said many of the attacks were orchestrated by drug dealers, intent on creating no-go zones. There have been a number of similar incidents since.
"Many of the tensions are rooted in wealth disparities," says Marco Martiniello, the director of the Center for Ethnic and Migration Studies. "Many feel the legal systems are not there to help them, but to oppress them. And the economic downturn has fueled this desperation: sometimes, if you feel you cannot get ahead through hard work, you try other means."
But the country's institutions also bear responsibility for the surging violence. The Brussels laws courts are the most visible sign of this crumbling criminal justice system. The imposing, neo-Baroque Palais de Justice (the Palace of Justice), completed almost 130 years ago, was the world's biggest building in the 19th century. The edifice— under scaffolding for the past decade— has no fewer than 44 entrances, and minimal security in place. Last year, when three handcuffed defendants from an armed robbery and kidnapping case were led into a courtroom, they were intercepted and freed by armed, masked men. (The escapees have since been re-apprehended.)
Jacobs blames the degradation of security on the tensions between Belgium's French-speaking and Dutch- speaking communities, who have fattened budgets for their respective regions while starving federal institutions. This has left police under-resourced, prisons obsolete, courthouses lacking security, and only a rudimentary computerization of the entire legal system. "The linguistic struggles between the two main communities led more or less to a standstill in federal policy making," Jacobs says. As a result, he says, "Belgium has a 19th century criminal justice system."