Northern Ireland is burning - literally. After a knife attack in north Belfast, for which a 30-year-old man from Sudan has been charged, masked mobs spent the night setting fire to houses, buses, cars and barricades across several parts of the city. Footage on social media shows homes ablaze and ambulances and firefighters forcing their way through the streets.

The trigger is real and horrific: on Monday evening, a man in his forties was attacked with a knife - a witness filmed the scene as the attacker pinned the bleeding man to the ground and struck again, until passers-by and police intervened. The victim is in critical condition, with a damaged eye and serious injuries to his back and face. Prime Minister Keir Starmer called the attack „appalling," and police said there is no evidence so far that it was terrorism.

The suspect, who flew from Paris to Dublin in February 2023 and entered Northern Ireland from there, applied for asylum and was granted residence in the United Kingdom until 2028. He is charged with attempted murder, carrying a blade in a public place and death threats, and appears in court on Wednesday.

But what followed the attack is a story of its own. The unrest spilled into neighboring Newtownabbey, where protesters set two cars on fire, and into Kilkeel, with protests also recorded across England, Wales and Scotland. First Minister Michelle O'Neill was blunt: masked groups „drove families out of their homes by setting them alight" - scenes of „pure vandalism."

And here is the heart of it: one crime by one man, and the answer is burning down the houses of people who had nothing to do with the attack. Who exactly is protected when someone else's home burns? Anger after an attack like this is understandable - but a mob with torches isn't justice, it's a second crime - this time against innocent people. Anyone in the Balkans who has watched collective guilt set houses on fire knows it. We've seen how it ends.