Living in London through the troubles of the last few days has evoked images of my native Athens in December 2008. The shooting of teenager Alexandros Grigoropoulos by a police officer on the night of 6 December 2008 led to a near-instant collapse of order in the heart of the Greek capital and a few other cities, with unrest lasting for over a week. There was large-scale destruction of private and public property, looting, but also peaceful protesting against the abuse of police violence.

My interpretation of the dramatic events in Athens was that many of the thousands who took to the streets were venting frustration with a corrupt and destructive government that had built up over years. Many were just criminals, looters and agitators. Some were teenagers, out to stretch their muscle against the state for the first time. And many, still, were members of various extreme-left and anarchist fringe organisations partaking in outright political violence. A gunshot that winter Saturday night in Athens lifted the lid on a collection of different demands, grievances and motivations.

The events in London and other English cities following the shooting of Mark Duggan in Tottenham last Thursday have appeared similarly dramatic and shocking. As in Athens in 2008, authorities have been keen to emphasise the opportunistic motivations of the rioters: thugs looking for trouble, looking to destroy and loot. There is no reason to doubt that this is at least partly the case.

David Cameron and Boris Johnson refuse to attribute any socioeconomic context to the events, but a lesson from Athens is that urban violence of such intensity cannot be merely pinned down to opportunistic motives. The hurling of rocks and bottles against police, the lashing out, and the viciousness of the destruction should not be treated as a superficial outburst of violence and theft. As many commentators have already pointed out, to dismiss the social, political and economic dimensions of what's happened is to ignore the chronic frustrations of a group that feels increasingly marginalised and is suffering the consequences of cuts, deprivation and uncertainty.

Having lived through both Athens in 2008 and London in 2011, however, I am convinced that what happened in Athens then is not what has been happening here now. The differences are too many to ignore: the Athens riots were largely political and, despite their violent character and widespread instances of vandalism, hardly lost their political nature. They were concentrated around and against the city's administrative centre rather than the suburbs. They involved a far greater cross-section of social and age groups, rather than predominantly youth.

But the symbolic significance of the police gunshot that led, however indirectly, to the rioting, binds the two events together. Both happened on the watch of conservative governments that refused to even acknowledge, let alone address, underlying discontents.

Athens has gone through years of soul-searching after the December 2008 events. The city struggles with its demons in a far tougher environment these days. The dark urban corners still bring violence to the surface during peaceful demonstrations against austerity and deprivation in the era of debt politics.

London doesn't want to be Athens in 2008, or Paris in 2005 and 2007. A good place to start after the traumatic events of the last few days is to not shove the more complex problems under the carpet and pretend that the riots happened in a vacuum. If England is to learn from urban violence in other European cities, it ought to address the motivations and grievances of those participating in it. If it doesn't, trouble will return with a vengeance and it will hurt more, as it has in Athens.