Monday, August 31, 2026

 At Last a Microgrid that Serves Pretty Much Everybody

Pescadero, California wins Final Funding on a Plan that Connects almost the Entire Town —  Including Homes — To a Microgrid that Keeps Power Flowing when the Grid Fails

Elisa Wood 

 


 

People have enough trouble understanding what a microgrid is. Add the word community and the confusion mounts, especially since community microgrids often aren’t what we’d intuitively expect them to be.

The term suggests a neighborhood or town powered by an independent grid when its utility experiences a power outage. In truth, most community microgrids guarantee power only to certain critical services, such as fire stations, emergency shelters or public works — not to homeowners.

That’s what makes the Pescadero, California microgrid noteworthy. The solar and storage microgrid, which announced its final funding last week, will connect nearly the entire town of Pescadero. That is more than 100 residences and businesses, including the critical facilities most community microgrids stop at: two schools, the fire station, community centers, and Puente de la Costa Sur, the nonprofit that provides food distribution and medical services.

As a project that lives up to the name, it is a milestone in the evolution of community microgrids. But will it prove to be an anomaly, or can the model scale?

Why it works in Pescadero

Several factors have contributed to Pescadero’s success so far, as it moves toward a planned 2029 groundbreaking, with microgrid service beginning in 2031.

First, the town so clearly needs a microgrid.

Located about 45 miles south of San Francisco, Pescadero’s 700 residents face a trifecta of power-outage vulnerabilities — coastal storms, wildfire risk, and its position at the end of the utility feeder — that leaves them without power about 18% of the time. In two years (2021-2022), Pescadero experienced 400 power outages, with 25 of those lasting longer than a day and the longest nearly two weeks. The $16.5 million microgrid promises to give the town up to three days of backup power in average winter months and more than seven days during the summer. Its current design calls for 1.5 MW of solar and 8 MWh of battery storage.

Second, Pescadero is served by a community choice aggregation (CCA), a public agency that buys power on behalf of a community, as an alternative to a utility. Conventionally, CCAs seek out the cleanest and least costly power for a community. Pescadero’s CCA, WestLight Energy (previously Peninsula Clean Energy), has added energy resilience to its services.

Developing community microgrids isn’t always easy. It requires bringing together a host of different government and private parties to navigate regulation, permitting, development, finance, engineering and construction. Many local governments lack the expertise. A CCA, however, couples energy expertise with a community-first mission, so is positioned to bring together the parties needed to get a project built.

“When a community faces a challenge that doesn’t have an obvious solution, local public agencies like WestLight Energy have an opportunity to bring partners together,” said Shawn Marshall, CEO of WestLight Energy. “That’s exactly what happened here. This project shows what’s possible when community organizations, local government, utilities and clean energy partners work toward a common goal.”

Third, California has created a limited pathway around one of the biggest obstacles to community microgrids — the over-the-fence rule. Similar barriers exist in other states through utility franchise rights, exclusive service territories and restrictions on private electrical infrastructure crossing public rights-of-way. The particulars vary but in practice these rules make it difficult for a nonutility project to move electricity from one property to another across streets or utility-controlled distribution territory.

California didn’t eliminate the fence, but created a gate for a microgrid to pass through, with the utility as the gatekeeper, through a community microgrid tariff and incentive program. The microgrid developer applies to the utility for participation. If approved, the community microgrid can use the utility distribution wires to move its power. The utility retains control of that part of the microgrid, along with its ability to connect and disconnect from the main grid.

In its announcement, WestLight said PG&E had approved the final funding needed for the microgrid: a $3.5 million grant through the microgrid incentive program that the state mandated the utility set up in 2021. WestLight will provide $10 million to the project, and the County of San Mateo will provide $3 million.

In addition, PG&E plans to spend up to $4 million on interconnection and microgrid studies and upgrades to enable the microgrid to safely island.

Other project participants are technical partner Clean Coalition, the county’s Sustainability Department and Office of Emergency Services, and Irma Rodriguez Mitton of Arriba South Coast.

The microgrid project emerged from the community. Mitton, founder and executive director of the community-based nonprofit Arriba South Coast, partnered with community members to find a way to deal with the town’s power outages. Mitton sought out WestLight to help with the microgrid incentive application and bring together additional experts and partners.

We call a lot of things community microgrids

Pescadero isn’t traversing entirely new turf in creating a town-wide microgrid — although it pushes the model further.

In 2013, San Diego Gas & Electric built a microgrid that serves about 2,800 customers in Borrego Springs, a remote desert town in San Diego. The town was vulnerable to power outages because it was served essentially by one transmission line running through storm-prone, rugged terrain.

It differed from the Pescadero project in that it was utility-led, not driven or developed by a municipality, community aggregator, or other local entity. It wasn’t a bottom-up endeavor, which is the purest vision of the community microgrid for advocates of energy democracy.

Blue Lake Rancheria in Humboldt County, California, also has a community microgrid. The project supports six buildings and an American Red Cross evacuation center at a tribal resort and casino. During regional outages, it has served as a resilience resource for surrounding residents who use the facility to refrigerate medicines, get hot food, and plug in devices—and has been credited with saving the lives of those reliant on electricity-dependent medical devices.

But Blue Lake is on a single property and doesn’t extend to nearby residents, so it also doesn’t embrace the community concept as fully as Pescadero.

Another is the Redwood Coast Airport Microgrid in Humboldt County.

That project is smaller geographically but important structurally. It serves 19 airport and retail operations on a PG&E distribution circuit rather than merely serving one property. The California Energy Commission calls it the first front-of-the-meter, multi-customer community microgrid in PG&E territory.

Its significance extends beyond those 19 customers. The project helped establish regulatory arrangements that ultimately contributed to tariff and incentive structures that support the Pescadero microgrid. However, it does not serve residential customers. It is loosely a community microgrid in that it keeps vital transportation services operating, including the Coast Guard, as well as retail operations.

Last, multiple privately developed microgrids in California—and other states— are called community microgrids because they are built to serve a public facility but do not extend much—if at all—further.

A good example is Ameresco’s McKinleyville Community Services District microgrid at the Hiller Park wastewater treatment plant in Northern California. Ameresco was selected in March 2020 to design and build the microgrid. It combines solar PV, battery storage and the plant’s existing diesel generation, with a microgrid controller that allows the wastewater facility to keep operating during PG&E outages and wildfire-related outages.

Elsewhere in the US, an array of projects fall under the community microgrid theme, including Bronzeville in Chicago, Illinois, a neighborhood-scale, multi-customer example, and Reynolds Landing in Alabama, a residential microgrid that serves a 62-home subdivision. Both are utility-led projects.

 


 

Montgomery County, Maryland and Chelsea, Massachusetts, have community microgrids with more direct community or local government involvement. Montgomery County, for example, developed and operates its microgrids through public/private partnerships under energy-as-a-service contracts. The microgrids serve public safety headquarters and a correctional facility, transit depots, and an animal shelter, with dozens of community resilience hubs planned next. The microgrids keep public services running during outages, but they do not send electricity to surrounding homes.

Chelsea, Massachusetts, is particularly unusual. Like Pescadero, it arose from local action, but it takes a different technological approach. The microgrid connects buildings virtually, not physically via wires. Each building gets its own solar, battery storage, controls and other resilience assets it can rely on during a power outage. But instead of sharing power from those assets building to building, it coordinates power through cloud-based controls and manages it as a portfolio.

This approach allowed Chelsea to avoid running afoul of local utility Eversource’s over-the-fence rules, while still managing the assets as a portfolio to save money and participate in potential grid service programs, like demand response. The longer-term vision includes incorporating affordable housing and other buildings, but the project is still in its first phase.

No project on this list incorporates as much “community” as Pescadero. It was initiated by the community, carried forward by a community aggregator, and will bring resilience to nearly every part of the town: residents, businesses and critical facilities.

But can the Pescadero concept scale to other communities?

“Our vision is to create a replicable model for developing community microgrids across the state, where CCAs are the ‘bridge’ between the community and the utility,” said Marshall.

 


 

The aspiration seems plausible in California. The state has a tariff and incentive structure that provides a limited pathway for multi-customer microgrids to operate over utility distribution networks. And California has a preponderance of community choice aggregations to help—25 in operation serving more than 15 million customers in more than 200 cities and counties, over one-third of the state’s population, according to the California Community Choice Association.

Only 10 other states allow community choice aggregations, with Maine as the most recent addition, and none as expansive in number or activities as California’s. Still, they may be the most likely candidates for community microgrids, provided they can overcome the utility-over-the-fence rule.

Still, CCAs aren’t the only plausible route, and utility ownership isn’t the only path, as Chelsea, Mass., and Montgomery County, Maryland, indicate.

“When you have a community-focused/public-serving organization, whether that’s a CCA or other public entity, that can help convene residents, local government, local utilities, funding, and technical partners and expertise, you can develop the kinds of solutions needed to meet current energy challenges,” said Jana Kopyciok-Lande, WestLight Energy’s director of innovation strategy.

Until recently, cities and towns tended to have pressing civic needs that put energy issues on the back burner. That’s changing with the rise of data centers. Community concern is growing that AI’s energy appetite will drive up local energy prices and drive down electric reliability. That makes this a good time for communities to focus on local energy development. Pescadero isn’t built yet. But its plan suggests a community microgrid could be closer to what its name promises—a project that creates energy resilience for the whole town, not just the fire station.

 

 

 Why Forests Grasslands and Deserts Grow Where They Do

How Geography and Climate create The World’s Biomes that Shape Human History 

Michael Magoon 

 


 

 Five forces of physical geography shape a region's climate, creating the vegetation patterns that constrain life across the planet.

A major theme of my book series and this Substack column is the importance of geography to human history. Through all of human history, geography has been a key constraint on the types of societies that could evolve.

Geography does not determine outcomes, but geography does highly constrain the choices available to humans in a specific location. It was only with the Industrial Revolution that humans were able to innovate technologies that enabled us to push back on those constraints significantly.

I believe that biomes are the most significant geographical constraint on human history. I have already written a few articles on the topic, so as a refresher, I will say that a biome is a category for a geographical area based upon its dominant vegetation.

You may not be familiar with the concept of biome, but I am that you will recognize some of them:

  • Tropical Forest biome

  • Temperate Rain Forest biome

  • Temperate Grassland biome

  • Tropical Grassland biome (or Savanna)

  • Mediterranean biome

  • Desert biome

  • Tundra biome, etc.

The dominant vegetation in any area sets very broad constraints on what type of plants and animals can evolve there. The dominant vegetation sustains the local herbivores, which then sustain the local carnivores. Since humans use a portion of these plants and animals as base materials for food production, biomes also play a critical role in constraining the types of human societies that can develop within them.

 


 

The concept of biome has recently been systematized by the World Wildlife Fund (WWF), an organization dedicated to understanding the diversity of life on planet Earth. The WWF’s system divides the earth into 14 different biomes containing 867 smaller ecoregions. See below for their map of biomes.

One example of a biome is the Temperate Grassland biome. Not surprisingly, grasses dominate this biome, and the biome is located within the temperate latitudes. The California Central Valley and Mongolian-Manchurian grassland are ecoregions. Each of these ecoregions is an instance of the Temperate Grasslands biome. While these two ecoregions differ from each other, they share far more in common.

Now that we have gotten that out of the way, let’s move onto the main topic of this essay:

  • What causes biomes?

     


     

Level 1: Five Base Geographic and Physical Causes

So what causes biomes?

At first glance, the answer seems obvious: climate. A Tropical Forest is hot and wet, a Desert is dry, a Temperate Forest has moderate temperatures and adequate rainfall, and Tundra is extremely cold.

But this just pushes the question back one step. Why is one part of the world hot and wet while another is cold or dry?

Ultimately, most of these differences can be traced back to five basic features of physical geography.

As is almost always the case, there is not just one cause. Biomes have a long, causal change with many separate causes interacting. As a simplified model, I argue for the following causal chain:

Level 1 cause = Physical Geography (Latitude + Atmospheric Circulation + Elevation + Oceans/Currents + Topography)

Level 2 cause = Climate (Temperature + Water availability + Seasonality)

Biome

 


 

Latitude

First let’s explore the first level of causes: Physical geography. The first and most important geographical cause is latitude.

Because the Earth is a sphere, sunlight strikes its surface at different angles. Near the equator, sunlight strikes the Earth relatively directly, concentrating solar energy over a small area. As you move toward the poles, sunlight arrives at an increasingly oblique angle and spreads the same energy over a larger area. This is the fundamental reason that the tropics are generally hot, while the polar regions are cold.

Latitude also affects seasonality. The tilt of the Earth’s axis means that the amount and angle of sunlight received at higher latitudes change dramatically over the course of a year. Near the equator, this seasonal change is comparatively small. At high latitudes, summers have extremely long days while winters have extremely short days, or even periods with no sunlight at all.

This produces one of the most obvious patterns on a biome map. Tropical Forest and Tropical Seasonal Forest/Savanna cluster around low latitudes. Temperate Forest and Temperate Grassland dominate much of the middle latitudes. Boreal Forest and Tundra appear as we approach the poles.

 


 

 

Atmospheric Circulation

If latitude were the only thing that mattered, the world’s biomes would form relatively neat bands running east to west. Obviously, they do not.

One reason is atmospheric circulation.

The unequal heating produced by latitude sets the atmosphere in motion. Warm, moist air rises near the equator. As it rises, it cools, causing water vapor to condense and fall as rain. This helps create the extremely wet conditions associated with many Tropical Forest regions.

The now drier air eventually descends around 30 degrees north and south of the equator. Descending air makes precipitation less likely. Not coincidentally, many of the world’s great deserts, including the Sahara and Arabian deserts, lie near these latitudes. Farther toward the poles, other circulation systems produce another series of wet and dry climatic zones.

Atmospheric circulation also changes with the seasons. This can produce regions that receive abundant rain during part of the year followed by months of drought. The result may be Tropical Seasonal Forest/Savanna rather than Tropical Forest.

 


 

Elevation

Temperature also changes with elevation.

Anyone who has climbed a high mountain has experienced this directly. Even in the tropics, sufficiently high elevations can be surprisingly cold. As elevation increases, temperatures generally decline and growing seasons become shorter.

This can produce an interesting effect: traveling a relatively short distance up a mountain can resemble traveling thousands of miles toward the poles.

The Andes mountains provide a dramatic example. A traveler can move from hot tropical lowlands through increasingly cool mountain environments and eventually reach the cold, largely treeless environments of the high Andes. Similar patterns occur in the Himalayas, East African mountains, and Rocky Mountains.

This is why the WWF map contains a separate Highlands category scattered across mountain ranges that otherwise lie within very different climatic regions.

 


 

Oceans and Ocean Currents

The oceans provide another major influence.

Water heats and cools much more slowly than land. Large oceans therefore moderate the temperatures of nearby land. Coastal regions commonly experience cooler summers and warmer winters tha continental interiors at similar latitudes. Oceans are also the source of much of the water that eventually falls over land as precipitation.

This helps explain why the interiors of large continents can be so different from their coasts. Central Asia, for example, lies thousands of miles from major sources of oceanic moisture. Large portions are consequently dominated by Temperate Grassland and Desert rather than forest.

Ocean currents complicate the pattern further because they redistribute enormous quantities of heat around the planet. Warm currents transport tropical heat toward higher latitudes, while cold currents move colder water toward the equator. These currents can significantly alter the climate of nearby land.

Western Europe provides the most famous example. The North Atlantic transports enormous quantities of heat toward Europe, contributing to its relatively mild maritime climate. Cold currents along other continental coasts can have almost the opposite effect.

 


 

Topography

Topography is related to elevation, but its effect is different. Elevation affects climate primarily because higher land is colder. Topography affects climate primarily by changing the movement of air and water across the landscape. Mountains are therefore important not simply because they are high, but because they form physical barriers.

The most important example is their effect on precipitation. When moisture-laden air encounters a mountain range, it is forced upward. As the air rises, it cools, causing water vapor to condense and fall as rain or snow. By the time the air crosses the mountains and descends on the opposite side, much of its moisture may be gone. The result can be a wet windward side and a much drier leeward side, known as a rain shadow.

The Andes provide a dramatic example. Moist air coming from the Atlantic crosses the Amazon Basin and releases enormous amounts of precipitation along the eastern side of the Andes. The mountains severely restrict how much of that moisture reaches regions farther west. The Himalayas have a similar effect, helping produce heavy monsoon precipitation on their southern slopes while contributing to much drier conditions on the Tibetan Plateau and in Central Asia.

Topography also affects drainage. Mountains determine where rivers flow, valleys can concentrate water, and enclosed basins can prevent water from reaching the ocean. These effects can create important local differences in water availability.

The distinction between our two mountain-related causes is therefore fairly simple: Elevation primarily changes temperature, while topography primarily redistributes water.

Hang in there with me, we are getting to biomes soon…

 


 

Level 2: How Physical Geography Creates Climate

The five base geographic and physical causes discussed in the previous do not directly determine which plants grow in a region. Instead, they determine its climate.

For understanding biomes, we can simplify climate down to three particularly important characteristics:

  1. temperature,

  2. water availability, and

  3. seasonality (which is essentially variations in the above)

Temperature

The first is temperature. Latitude is its most important global cause. Regions near the equator receive more concentrated solar energy throughout the year and are therefore warmer. As we move toward the poles, the same solar energy is spread over a larger surface, causing average temperatures to decline.

Elevation modifies this basic pattern. As air rises into the thinner atmosphere at higher elevations, it expands and cools. A mountain near the equator can therefore have temperatures more characteristic of regions thousands of miles farther north or south. This is why tropical mountain ranges can contain snow and ice despite being surrounded by hot lowlands.

Oceans and ocean currents modify temperatures further. Because water warms and cools more slowly than land, oceans moderate the temperatures of nearby regions. Coastal areas therefore tend to have cooler summers and warmer winters than continental interiors at the same latitude. Ocean currents also transport heat. Warm currents can raise temperatures along nearby coasts, while cold currents can lower them.

Water availability

The second climatic condition is water availability. Atmospheric circulation plays a particularly important role here. Warm air rises near the equator, cools, and releases large amounts of precipitation.

The resulting belt of abundant rainfall helps explain the Tropical Forests of the Amazon, Congo Basin, and Southeast Asia. Farther from the equator, descending air produces much drier conditions. Many of the world’s great deserts are consequently concentrated around 20 to 30 degrees north and south latitude.

Oceans provides most of the moisture that ultimately falls over land. Regions close to an ocean and exposed to moisture-bearing winds therefore tend to receive more precipitation than continental interiors. As air masses travel farther inland, they can gradually lose their moisture. This helps explain the increasing dryness found across much of the interior of Eurasia.

Topography can redistribute this moisture dramatically. When moist air encounters a mountain range, it is forced upward, cools, and releases precipitation. The windward side can consequently be extremely wet. Once the air crosses the mountains, however, it descends with much of its moisture already removed. This creates a rain shadow on the opposite side.

Temperature also affects water availability. Rainfall alone does not tell us how much water is available to vegetation. Higher temperatures increase evaporation and the amount of water lost by plants. A hot region receiving 20 inches of annual rainfall can therefore be much drier from a plant’s perspective than a cool region receiving the same amount.

Seasonality

The third climatic condition is seasonality. Latitude is again important, but for a different reason. Because the Earth’s axis is tilted, the amount of sunlight received during the year changes much more dramatically at higher latitudes. Near the equator, temperatures remain relatively constant throughout the year. At higher latitudes, warm summers alternate with cold winters.

Distance from the ocean affects this temperature seasonality. Oceans absorb heat during warm periods and release it during cold periods. Coastal regions therefore tend to experience smaller seasonal temperature changes. Continental interiors can experience much greater extremes, including very hot summers and extremely cold winters.

Water availability can be seasonal as well. Atmospheric circulation shifts north and south during the year as the region receiving the most intense solar heating moves between the hemispheres. Some places therefore experience alternating wet and dry seasons. Monsoon systems provide an especially dramatic example, bringing heavy summer rainfall to much of South and East Asia followed by much drier conditions during other parts of the year.

The sum of Level 2 causes

Variations in the Level 2 causes (temperature, water availability, and seasonality) gives every location on Earth a particular climatic combination. One place might be hot, wet, and relatively constant throughout the year. Another might be equally hot but experience a long annual drought. A third might receive adequate precipitation throughout the year but alternate between warm summers and freezing winters. These differences can all ultimately be traced largely to variations in latitude, atmospheric circulation, elevation, oceans and ocean currents, and topography.

 


 

Level 3: How Climate Creates Biomes

Now, we are finally getting to biomes!

Once physical geography has created variations in temperature, water availability, and seasonality, the next step in the causal chain is vegetation. Different combinations of these three climatic conditions favor different types of plants. Over large areas, this produces the distinctive vegetation that we classify as biomes.

Temperature > Biomes

Temperature establishes the first broad constraint. Plants need sufficient warmth to grow, but different types of vegetation are adapted to very different temperature ranges.

  • In the tropics, warm temperatures can permit plant growth throughout the year.

  • At higher latitudes, winter cold interrupts growth and shortens the growing season.

  • Move still farther toward the poles, and the growing season eventually becomes so short and cold that trees can no longer survive.

This produces a broad progression from Tropical Forest near the equator to Temperate Forest at middle latitudes, Boreal Forest at higher latitudes, and finally Tundra near the poles. Elevation can produce a similar progression over a much shorter distance.

Water Availability > Biomes

Water availability creates another broad division. Where temperatures are warm enough for trees and water is abundant, forests can dominate. As water becomes less available, maintaining large trees becomes increasingly difficult. Grasslands and shrublands become more competitive. Where water becomes extremely scarce, vegetation becomes sparse and Desert takes over.

This is why regions at similar latitudes can have very different biomes.

  • Eastern North America, for example, receives enough moisture to support Temperate Forest.

  • Move westward into the continental interior, and declining water availability contributes to the transition into Temperate Grassland.

  • In still drier parts of western North America, Desert becomes common.

Seasonality > Biomes

Seasonality creates another set of differences. Tropical Forest occurs where warm temperatures and abundant water are available through most or all of the year. Where temperatures remain warm but rainfall becomes strongly seasonal, Tropical Seasonal Forest/Savanna becomes more common. Plants there must survive a pronounced dry season even though total annual rainfall may be substantial.

Mediterranean provides an especially clear example of the importance of seasonality. These regions generally have moderate temperatures and enough annual precipitation to support substantial vegetation. But most of the rain falls during the cooler part of the year, followed by a hot, dry summer. This unusual combination favors drought-resistant trees, shrubs, and grasses rather than the vegetation characteristic of Temperate Forest.

The three climatic conditions therefore work together. Temperature determines how much energy is available for plant growth and how long the growing season lasts. Water availability determines how much vegetation that energy can support. Seasonality determines whether favorable conditions persist throughout the year or are interrupted by periods of drought or cold.

Simple metrics to measure climate

For measurement purposes, we can use the following metrics:

  • Temperature is measured by mean annual degrees Celsius.

  • Water availability is measured by millimeters of annual precipitation.

  • Seasonality is measured by the number of months per year with adequate temperature and water for plant growth.

Defining biome conditions

Using the metrics that I list above, we can define the approximate climatic combinations that determine each biome:

  • Tropical Forest biome: >20°C + >2,000 mm + 10-12 growing months

  • Tropical Seasonal Forest: >20°C + 1,000-2,000 mm + 7-10 growing months

  • Savanna: >18°C + 500-1,500 mm + 4-7 growing months

  • Temperate Forest: 5-15°C + 600-1,500 mm + 5-8 growing months

  • Temperate Grassland: 0-15°C + 250-750 mm + 4-7 growing months

  • Mediterranean: 10-20°C + 300-900 mm + 5-8 growing months, interrupted by summer drought

  • Desert: <250 mm + 0-3 growing months

  • Boreal Forest: -5-5°C + 300-1,000 mm + 3-5 growing months

  • Tundra: <0°C + 1-3 growing months

  • Highlands: highly variable because elevation rather than a single climatic range defines the biome

Obvioulys, this simplified explanation does not capture every local variation. Hydrology is particularly important for two WWF biomes. Regular inundation helps create Flooded Savanna, while the combination of coastal flooding, waterlogged soils, and salt water produces Mangroves. Fire, grazing, and other disturbances can also affect whether a particular landscape develops into forest, grassland, or shrubland.

Putting It All Together

But across most of the Earth’s surface, the basic relationship remains remarkably simple:

Level 1 cause = Physical Geography (Latitude + Atmospheric Circulation + Elevation + Oceans/Currents + Topography)

Level 2 cause = Climate (Temperature + Water availability + Seasonality)

Biome

Three Examples of the Causal Chain

The easiest way to understand how this process works is to follow the causal chain for three very different biomes. In each case, the five base geographic conditions create a particular climate, and that climate favors a particular type of vegetation.

 


 

Mediterranean Biome

The Mediterranean biome is one of the most distinctive biomes because of its unusual seasonality. It occurs primarily on the western sides of continents between about 30 and 45 degrees latitude.

Latitude gives these regions relatively warm temperatures. Atmospheric circulation is particularly important because:

  • the subtropical high-pressure zone expands toward them during summer, producing dry conditions.

  • during winter, the circulation shifts and moisture-bearing westerly winds bring precipitation.

  • nearby oceans moderate temperatures, while ocean currents and local topography further modify the climate.

The result is a climate with mean annual temperatures commonly around 10 to 20°C and annual precipitation of roughly 300 to 900 mm. More important than either annual average is the timing. Winters are relatively cool and wet, while summers are warm and dry.

Plants must therefore survive a predictable annual drought. Evergreen shrubs and small trees commonly have small, tough leaves that reduce water loss. Deep roots allow plants to reach moisture during the dry season. Many plants are also well adapted to recurrent fire.

Below is a map of the Mediterranean ecoregions (ecoregions are separate instances of a biome)

 


 

 

The Mediterranean Basin between Europe and Africa provides by far the largest example. Southern Europe, North Africa, and the Levant experience the characteristic combination of winter rainfall and summer drought.

Remarkably similar vegetation occurs in California. The two regions are separated by thousands of miles and contain different species, yet California’s chaparral resembles Mediterranean shrubland because the underlying climatic pressures are similar.

Central Chile provides a third example. Its latitude, position on the western side of South America, Pacific Ocean influence, Humboldt Current, and the Andes combine to produce another winter-wet, summer-dry climate. The resulting matorral again resembles Mediterranean vegetation despite evolving independently.

 

 


 Desert Biome

The Desert biome provides an especially useful example because very different combinations of the five base causes can produce the same result.

The defining climatic problem is extremely low water availability. Many deserts receive less than 250 mm of precipitation annually, and hot deserts lose additional water through rapid evaporation. Vegetation is therefore sparse and dominated by plants capable of surviving long periods without rainfall.

The Sahara illustrates one route to creating the Desert biome. Its latitude places much of it beneath the descending branch of the Hadley circulation. Descending air inhibits cloud formation and precipitation. Its enormous continental size also leaves much of the region far from major sources of atmospheric moisture.

Below is a map of the Desert ecoregions.

 


 

The Atacama Desert of South America arrives at a similar result through a different combination of causes. The cold Humboldt Current contributes to extremely dry coastal conditions, while the Andes restrict moisture arriving from the east. Atmospheric circulation reinforces both effects. Parts of the Atacama consequently receive almost no rainfall despite lying beside the Pacific Ocean.

Central Asia provides a third route. Much of the region is extremely far from an ocean, while major mountain ranges intercept moisture before it reaches the continental interior. The result is an extensive Desert biome even though these deserts occur at much higher latitudes and experience much colder winters than the Sahara.

The Sahara, Atacama, and Central Asian deserts therefore look different and contain different species. But all three demonstrate the same basic principle. Different combinations of the five base causes can converge upon extremely low water availability and thereby produce the Desert biome.

 


 

Temperate Forest Biome

The Temperate Forest biome demonstrates the opposite situation. Instead of being defined by extreme water scarcity or an unusual dry season, it develops where moderate temperatures and relatively abundant water permit dense tree growth.

These forests generally occur in the middle latitudes.

  • Mean annual temperatures commonly fall between about 5 and 15°C, with annual precipitation of roughly 600 to 1,500 mm.

  • Seasonal cold interrupts plant growth during winter, but summers are sufficiently warm and long for large trees to flourish.

  • Where precipitation remains adequate throughout the growing season, forests can dominate the landscape.

Below is a map of the Temperate Forest ecoregions (you might notice how incredibly important human societies in those ecoregions in global history).

 


 

Eastern North America provides one of the world’s great Temperate Forest ecoregions. Moisture from the Atlantic Ocean and Gulf of Mexico combines with middle-latitude temperatures to support extensive forests. Cold winters produce strong seasonality, favoring deciduous trees that shed their leaves before winter.

Europe developed another large Temperate Forest region. Its proximity to the Atlantic and the influence of North Atlantic ocean circulation moderate temperatures and provide substantial moisture. Western Europe’s winters are therefore considerably milder than those of many places at comparable latitudes in continental interiors.

East Asia provides a third example. Eastern China, Korea, and Japan combine middle-latitude temperatures with abundant moisture from the Pacific and strong seasonal circulation. The species are different from those in Europe and North America, but the basic vegetation structure is similar.

These three regions are particularly revealing because their forests evolved in substantial geographic isolation. Oaks, maples, beeches, and many other plant groups occur in different combinations and species on each continent. Yet similar climates repeatedly favored tall, dense forests dominated by broadleaf trees.

Conclusion

The distribution of the world’s biomes may look extraordinarily complicated, but most of the pattern can be traced back through a surprisingly simple chain of causes. Five basic features of physical geography largely determine variations in temperature, water availability, and seasonality. Those climatic differences, in turn, largely determine the dominant vegetation of a region and therefore its biome.

This is important for far more than understanding why forests grow in one place and grasslands in another. For most of human history, people had only limited ability to escape the ecological constraints of the environments in which they lived. Biomes influenced which plants and animals surrounded them, which species were available for domestication, and ultimately what kinds of agriculture were possible.

That is where we will pick up the story in the next article in this series…

Bibliography

The material for this article largely comes from Susan Woodward’s eight-book series Greenwood Guides to Biomes of the World.


 

Saturday, August 29, 2026

 Inside Europe’s Islamist Infrastructure

Foreign Money, Political Networks, Religious Education and the Caliphate question Europe can No Longer Dismiss 

Thom Aster 

 


 

Europe has spent years arguing about Islam in terms so broad that the argument itself has become increasingly useless. At one extreme sits the proposition that ordinary Muslims constitute some homogeneous political bloc quietly working towards the replacement of European civilisation. At the other sits an equally complacent insistence that concern about organised political Islam is little more than prejudice dressed up as security policy. Neither position survives serious examination of what European governments, intelligence services, courts, charities regulators and the organisations themselves have actually put on the public record.

The evidence describes something more complicated, but scarcely more reassuring. Europe now hosts several distinct Islamist currents operating at the same time: organisations which explicitly advocate the eventual establishment of a caliphate; networks which European security agencies assess as pursuing political and societal influence through lawful institutions; foreign governments that have funded mosques, employed clerics or exported their preferred religious structures; educational organisations that have trained imams and religious cadres; and, separately, violent jihadist networks whose preferred route to political transformation is terrorism rather than gradual institutional change.

These currents are not controlled from a single headquarters. Turkey, Qatar, Iran, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates do not constitute an Islamist alliance and, in several cases, are rivals or outright enemies. The Muslim Brotherhood is not Islamic State. Hizb ut-Tahrir is not Diyanet. Iran’s revolutionary Shia establishment is not the Sunni Brotherhood. Conflating them produces a convenient conspiracy theory when the documented reality is more intricate: overlapping movements, conflicting foreign interests and competing interpretations of Islam, some of which nevertheless converge on the proposition that religion should ultimately exercise political authority over society.

Britain itself now makes that distinction explicitly. In its April 2026 social-cohesion strategy, the Government describes Islamism as a political ideology whose adherents seek, in differing forms, the imposition of their interpretation of Sharia through state power and, in its extremist manifestations, a global Islamist state. The same document makes an equally important qualification: Islamists do not represent Britain’s Muslim communities. That is not merely a useful caveat. It is essential to understanding what follows. The British Government’s April 2026 strategy

The caliphate is not an invented objective

The word caliphate has become so freighted with polemic that its appearance in European political discussion is often treated as evidence of exaggeration in itself. Yet there are organisations for which the objective is neither inferred nor attributed by hostile commentators.

Britain proscribed Hizb ut-Tahrir in January 2024. The Government’s current list of terrorist organisations describes it as an international Sunni Islamist political organisation with a presence in at least 32 countries and identifies its stated long-term objective as the unification of Muslims worldwide under a caliphate governed according to Islamic law. Britain concluded that the organisation met the statutory test for proscription because of its promotion and encouragement of terrorism, particularly following statements associated with the 7 October 2023 Hamas attacks. The Home Office’s entry on Hizb ut-Tahrir

The Muslim Brotherhood requires more care because its national branches, associated organisations and sympathisers do not form a simple uniform organisation, and because many of its European milieus reject violence. Yet the historical political objective is equally difficult to pretend does not exist. The British Government’s extensive Muslim Brotherhood review found that the Brotherhood’s foundational writings called for the progressive religious transformation of individuals and Muslim societies, followed eventually by their political unification in a caliphate governed by Sharia. The same review described the movement as transnational, habitually secretive and deliberately opaque, while noting that different branches had adapted considerably to local political circumstances. The British Government’s Muslim Brotherhood review

That does not prove that every organisation accused of Brotherhood influence is secretly taking instructions from Cairo, Doha or Istanbul. Nor does it mean that every European activist shaped by Brotherhood political thought is planning the overthrow of a government. It establishes something narrower and more defensible: the political tradition under examination has always possessed a conception of Islam extending beyond private worship into law, society and government.

France’s 2025 investigation into the Brotherhood and political Islam makes much the same distinction. The report describes an ideological tradition adapted for life in Western democracies, often working through preaching, associations, education, professional networks and representative institutions rather than revolutionary violence. Its authors explicitly distinguish the phenomenon from Salafi-jihadism and acknowledge that the academic literature is deeply divided over how coherent and centrally directed the European Brotherhood milieu really is. France’s report on the Muslim Brotherhood and political Islam

That uncertainty should not be disguised. It is precisely why the documentary record matters more than labels.

France mapped the institutional terrain

The French report is extraordinary less for any single accusation than for the breadth of the ecosystem it attempts to map. Its researchers conducted dozens of interviews with academics, Muslim representatives and administrators, undertook field visits in France and elsewhere in Europe, and examined the relationship between national associations, mosques, educational institutions and European-level organisations.

At the French level, the report counted 139 places of worship affiliated with Musulmans de France and another 68 considered close to it, distributed across 55 departments. Together they represented around seven per cent of the approximately 2,800 Muslim places of worship identified in the country, with an estimated 91,000 Friday worshippers. The significance lies not in pretending that every person entering one of those mosques is a political Islamist, but in the scale of the organisational infrastructure which French authorities believe developed around a particular current within French Islam. The section mapping Musulmans de France’s places of worship

The report then traces a European architecture through bodies concerned with theology, youth organisation, property, religious education and political representation. It describes the Council of European Muslims as an umbrella structure, identifies FEMYSO as its youth arm, discusses the Council for European Fatwa and Research as an important theological institution, and describes the British-registered Europe Trust as a financial vehicle supporting the movement’s European infrastructure.

Those descriptions are strongly contested. The Council of European Muslims’ formal response accused the French report of adopting a securitised, misleading and divisive interpretation of ordinary Muslim civic participation. It denied organisational or administrative subordination to Muslim Brotherhood organisations outside Europe and specifically rejected allegations made about its leadership. Its position is that participation in politics, public institutions and Muslim civil society is an exercise in European citizenship rather than a programme to Islamise European society.

That disagreement cannot simply be settled by repeating the accusation more loudly. The more revealing question is whether the institutional connections, financial relationships, personnel overlaps and educational materials described by governments can be established independently. In several important cases, they can.

Follow the property, not the rhetoric

The financial side of political Islam in Europe is often described as though fleets of Gulf couriers were still arriving with suitcases of money. Some of that picture belongs to an earlier period. Direct Gulf financing has faced greater scrutiny, regulatory changes and political pressure, and several European Islamist institutions have matured into organisations capable of generating their own income through property and investments.

Europe Trust is a useful example. It remains an active company and registered British charity. Its most recent Charity Commission figures show £1.38 million in income for the year ending December 2024, of which approximately £1.35 million came from investments, against £969,115 of expenditure. Europe Trust’s Charity Commission record

The French Government report goes considerably further, characterising Europe Trust as the financial arm of the European Brotherhood milieu and attributing to it a substantial property portfolio. That characterisation is an assessment of the French state rather than a British finding of unlawful conduct; Europe Trust itself remains lawfully registered in Britain and files its accounts. Nevertheless, the transition from dependence on external donations towards investment and property income matters. Once an ideological network accumulates capital assets, outside sponsorship ceases to be the only measure of its durability.

Historical foreign money is, however, beyond serious dispute.

A Dutch parliamentary investigation into unwanted foreign influence examined cases involving money from Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Qatar and the United Arab Emirates. Its most striking example was Rotterdam’s Essalam Mosque, which had received approximately €8 million in donations associated with Dubai’s Al Maktoum Foundation. A former mosque director told the inquiry that the foundation had exercised extensive practical control, including hiring staff, paying them and settling the institution’s bills. The same inquiry documented millions flowing from Kuwait-linked sources into other Dutch Islamic institutions and found that imams working in Dutch Diyanet mosques were employed and paid by the Turkish state. The Dutch parliamentary inquiry into foreign influence

This also resolves one claim which has circulated in various forms and which does not presently survive scrutiny: that the UAE is funding more than one hundred extremist imams throughout Europe. We have found no reliable evidence for that proposition.

There is a real UAE funding story, represented by cases such as Essalam, but contemporary Emirati foreign policy is strongly hostile to the Muslim Brotherhood. There is also a real European story involving roughly one hundred imams, but it belongs primarily to the Turkish-German DITIB transition rather than to an Emirati extremist programme. DITIB described plans to train around 100 religious officials annually, gradually replacing imams sent directly from Turkey, and in a later explanation said it had approximately 1,100 to 1,200 religious officials serving across Germany. DITIB’s account of its imam-training reforms

Correcting that claim does not weaken the wider investigation. It makes the foreign-influence question more precise. Turkey has operated a state-connected religious apparatus across Europe. Gulf institutions have financed individual mosques and organisations. Iran developed a separate Shia Islamist structure. Qatar appears repeatedly in historical Brotherhood financing. The UAE has financed Islamic infrastructure historically while becoming one of the Brotherhood’s chief regional opponents. These are competing power systems using religion in different ways, not components of a single geopolitical command structure.

Iran built its own European religious outpost

The clearest example of direct state-linked Islamist influence may have come not from the Brotherhood at all, but from Iran.

Germany banned the Islamic Centre Hamburg and its subordinate organisations in July 2024. Hamburg’s domestic intelligence authorities described the organisation as an important instrument through which Tehran sought to spread an antidemocratic and antisemitic interpretation of Iranian revolutionary ideology in Germany and elsewhere in Europe. A German administrative court had already upheld significant parts of the intelligence service’s assessment of the centre as extremist and controlled by Iran. Hamburg’s official account of the IZH prohibition

The case demonstrates why the phrase “Islamist network” can conceal as much as it reveals. Iran’s project is Shia, revolutionary and state-directed. Brotherhood-associated movements are overwhelmingly Sunni and politically distinct. Turkish religious influence follows yet another model. Their coexistence in Europe is evidence of multiple ideological and foreign-state pressures, not proof of a unified conspiracy.

The distinction becomes even more important when examining education.

What was being taught inside an imam-training institute

In September 2025, the French Government dissolved the Institut Européen des Sciences Humaines, or IESH, an institution established in 1990 to train imams, teachers, preachers and Muslim religious officials. According to the dissolution decree, IESH had been integrated into the French Brotherhood milieu through its leadership, teaching staff and relationships with other European Islamic institutions. The official French decree dissolving IESH

The importance of the case lies in what investigators said they actually found.

French authorities described internally produced course material and books available to students, including minors, which presented corporal punishment under religious law, severe inequality between men and women, the punishment of apostasy and a political conception of Sharia. Material discovered in a classroom used by minors presented secularism and democracy as hostile to Islam and placed Islamic religious principles above republican political principles.

The decree is even more explicit on Jews and Christians. It records educational material accusing Jews and Christians of corrupting divine revelation, using grotesque antisemitic language about Jews and describing an alleged collective Christian conspiracy against Islam. The state also said material used by the institute legitimised armed jihad and that other texts available through the institution promoted severe punishments for women, apostates and homosexuals. The section of the decree dealing with Jews, Christians and non-Muslims

These are not extracts from an anonymous Telegram channel presented by a political campaigner. They appear in the legal instrument by which the French state dissolved a religious educational institution whose stated purpose included the training of imams.

That still requires an important journalistic qualification. A government dissolution decree contains the state’s case. It is not proof that every IESH student accepted those teachings, nor that every graduate repeated them from a pulpit. The institution had submitted written observations during the dissolution procedure and had attempted to dissolve itself voluntarily before the Government proceeded with compulsory dissolution. What the document establishes is that French authorities found the materials sufficiently serious, and sufficiently connected to the institution’s teaching activities, to invoke statutory powers covering incitement to violence, discrimination and terrorism.

This is the closest answer yet to the question with which this investigation began: are Muslims being taught to hate Jews and Christians?

Some Muslims, in some educational environments, demonstrably have been exposed to material which authorities assess in precisely those terms. That finding cannot rationally be universalised to Muslims, Islam or Islamic education generally. It is nevertheless no longer credible to insist that the phenomenon itself is imaginary.

The children’s layer is much larger than one institute

France’s investigation also examined education beneath university and imam-training level. At the beginning of 2024, authorities counted 815 Qur’anic schools outside Paris and the overseas territories, serving 66,050 minors. The report said that more than one third operated within currents it classified as fundamentalist and that 114 were attached to the Brotherhood milieu. The French report’s section on Qur’anic schools and youth organisations

That number should not be abused. It does not mean 66,050 children were learning hatred, and association with a mosque or ideological current tells us little about what occurred in any individual classroom. It does establish the scale of a largely religious educational sector which national authorities themselves describe as opaque and unevenly supervised.

The obvious question is therefore not whether all Qur’anic schooling radicalises children. It is why the actual curricula, textbooks, reading lists and teacher-training materials of institutions identified as fundamentalist or Brotherhood-associated remain so difficult for outsiders to inspect.

IESH shows why that question cannot be dismissed as paranoia.

Institutional access reaches Brussels as well

The European Union appears in this story not because Brussels has adopted Islamist politics, but because organisations later questioned by national security authorities have successfully participated in the normal machinery of European civil society.

France’s report identifies FEMYSO as an important European youth organisation within the Brotherhood-associated milieu and describes its engagement with European institutions and political representatives. FEMYSO has repeatedly denied Brotherhood affiliation. European parliamentary records show that concerns over these relationships have generated formal questions about grants, meetings and institutional access.

The funding story is often exaggerated in political commentary. The European Commission stated in 2023 that FEMYSO had been a secondary beneficiary under European rights and education programmes but that those projects had ceased and the organisation was no longer receiving EU money directly or indirectly at that time. When the controversy re-emerged after the French report, the Commission said it applies financial-regulation checks and was aware of the French Government’s findings. The Commission’s earlier answer on FEMYSO funding

The important point is not the sensational claim that the European Union “funded the Brotherhood”, which goes beyond what the documentary record proves. It is that governments have repeatedly struggled to determine where ordinary Muslim representation ends and organised Islamist influence begins. If European states cannot agree on the classification of an organisation, the institutional machinery of grants, consultations, youth initiatives and stakeholder engagement will inevitably reflect that uncertainty.

Austria has just exposed the same problem inside deradicalisation

That difficulty has acquired an extraordinary contemporary example.

On 28 August 2026, Austria’s Directorate of State Protection and Intelligence announced that a fresh assessment had found indications of Muslim Brotherhood influence over DERAD, an organisation involved in the religious deradicalisation of convicted and former Islamist extremists. The Austrian Justice Ministry consequently ended its cooperation with DERAD, while the intelligence service moved to seek the organisation’s exclusion from Austria’s national network for extremism prevention and deradicalisation. Austria’s intelligence-service statement on DERAD

The significance is obvious. A body entrusted with helping governments rehabilitate Islamist offenders is now itself suspected by the domestic intelligence service of influence from a legalistic Islamist movement.

The allegation is also disputed in unusually forceful terms. DERAD chairman Moussa Al-Hassan Diaw called it nonsense, said the organisation had repeatedly warned authorities about the Brotherhood and noted that DERAD had itself trained security officials on the subject. Austrian public broadcaster ORF reported that there were no criminal allegations against the organisation. DERAD says approximately 800 people have passed through its programmes and that it currently works with around 200 present or former Islamists. DERAD’s response reported by ORF

That distinction should remain intact unless further evidence appears. What Austria has produced is a major intelligence assessment, not a criminal conviction.

Yet the case illuminates the central difficulty facing European governments. The contest is not confined to people standing outside parliament demanding a caliphate. It extends into the question of which Muslim organisations governments themselves recognise as partners, representatives, educators, prevention specialists and interlocutors.

Britain has its own transnational nodes

The British picture has changed again in 2026.

On 23 July, the US Treasury designated UK-based Mahmoud al-Abyari, describing him as a senior Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood official and Secretary-General of the Brotherhood’s General Secretariat. The Treasury alleged that he had supported fundraising connected to institutions sanctioned by Washington for Hamas ties and worked with Brotherhood groups to provide financial assistance to Hamas. The US Treasury’s July 2026 designation

Those are American sanctions findings, not a British criminal conviction. They should be reported as such. They nevertheless put a named senior figure within a transnational Brotherhood structure physically in the United Kingdom, bringing the abstract discussion of international networks considerably closer to home.

Britain also possesses a far less ambiguous street-level example in Anjem Choudary. In 2024 he was convicted of directing the proscribed organisation Al-Muhajiroun, membership of a terrorist organisation and encouraging support for one. He received a life sentence with a minimum term of 28 years. The Crown Prosecution Service account of Choudary’s conviction

Al-Muhajiroun and its successor identities show what the overtly revolutionary end of this spectrum can look like: public preaching, recruitment, repeated organisational rebranding and direct advocacy for an Islamic political order, eventually crossing clearly into terrorism law. It bears little organisational resemblance to the property-holding, lobbying and education networks examined elsewhere in this investigation. The ideological vocabularies sometimes overlap, while the methods differ profoundly.

European authorities increasingly recognise that distinction.

Political Islam and jihadism are separate problems

Belgian State Security’s reporting is particularly useful because it resists the temptation to collapse the Muslim Brotherhood into violent jihadism. Its 2024 intelligence report estimated that around one hundred people in Belgium were actively spreading Brotherhood ideology, while stating explicitly that the Brotherhood did not pose a violent threat in the country. The service nevertheless expressed concern that associated actors sought influence over public policy and Muslim representation and that the ideological environment could contribute to segregation, polarisation and radicalisation. Belgian State Security’s intelligence assessment

Jihadist terrorism sits further along an altogether different axis. Europol’s latest EU terrorism assessment recorded 45 terrorist attacks in the European Union during 2025, of which 24 were jihadist, together with 486 terrorism-related arrests, 347 connected to jihadism. Europol describes an increasingly decentralised model in which propaganda, personal grievance and fascination with violence can mobilise individuals or very small cells without the organisational structures once associated with terrorism. Europol’s 2026 EU terrorism report

That separation matters because an investigation which treats every conservative Muslim activist as a terrorist will understand neither terrorism nor political Islam. The question posed by legalistic Islamism is whether democratic institutions can be gradually reshaped by actors who themselves operate lawfully while rejecting important elements of liberal democracy. The jihadist question is whether people will murder civilians in pursuit of an Islamic political order. The security responses required for those problems are plainly different.

What the Muslim population itself thinks

Nor can institutional networks simply be projected onto millions of Muslims as though organisational affiliation and private belief were interchangeable.

A large 2025 IFOP study of more than 1,000 Muslims in metropolitan France produced results that deserve sober attention. Fifteen per cent of respondents favoured the full application of Sharia regardless of the country in which they lived, while another 31 per cent supported some application adapted to national law. Thirty-eight per cent said they approved at least some Islamist positions, although only eight per cent said they approved most of them. The survey also found particularly strong religiosity among younger Muslims. IFOP’s 2025 study of Islam and Islamism among French Muslims

Those figures are politically significant, but they do not yield the proposition that French Muslims collectively desire a caliphate. Almost half said Sharia had no role in non-Muslim countries, and individual answers varied considerably depending on what was being asked. Surveys of religious and political identity are also sensitive to wording, sampling and the difference between abstract approval and actual political behaviour.

What they do establish is that political Islam has a constituency which cannot simply be wished away, while remaining far from synonymous with the Muslim population itself.

So is there a global caliphate attempt?

After following this from ideology through governments, money, schools, lobbying organisations, imam training, intelligence assessments and convicted terrorists, the evidence still does not support the claim that one centrally directed global operation is orchestrating all of these developments.

There is no credible evidence of an international command centre coordinating the UAE, Qatar, Turkey, Iran, Hizb ut-Tahrir, the Muslim Brotherhood, Hamas, Islamic State, Diyanet, European mosque associations and local Muslim organisations towards one common plan. The geopolitical contradictions alone make that impossible.

What does exist is more difficult for Europe’s political institutions to confront because it does not fit comfortably into a single security category. There are multiple Islamist projects, some revolutionary and some gradualist, which share the conviction that Islam possesses a political as well as religious order. Some explicitly seek a future caliphate. Some accept democratic participation as their method. Some operate through preaching and community institutions. Some exist inside foreign-state religious structures. A much smaller but lethal current embraces terrorism.

Europe has also allowed outside governments to finance mosques, employ clergy and influence religious infrastructure. At the same time, European institutions have sometimes engaged civil-society organisations whose place within Islamist networks is now openly disputed between governments, intelligence agencies and the organisations concerned.

Most Muslims living in Europe are not proved participants in any of this. Some Muslim communities have actively resisted foreign control of their institutions, while Muslim reformers, dissidents and ordinary believers are themselves among the people most threatened by Islamist coercion. Any reporting which turns those people into a collective suspect class serves the extremists better than it serves the truth.

The evidence nevertheless leaves Europe with questions that are becoming progressively harder to evade. Who trains the people who train imams? Who owns the buildings in which religious institutions operate? What books and curricula are being placed before children? Which foreign governments retain personnel, financial or doctrinal influence over European mosques? How are ostensibly independent European associations related through trustees, directors, property companies, educational bodies and historical leadership networks? And when organisations seek privileged access to government on the basis that they represent Muslim citizens, how diligently does the state establish whom they actually represent?

France found educational material attacking Jews and Christians inside an institution devoted to the formation of Muslim religious personnel. The Netherlands documented foreign foundations exercising control over mosque infrastructure. Germany dismantled an Iranian-linked centre it described as an instrument of Tehran’s revolutionary ideology. Britain has proscribed an organisation openly seeking a caliphate and imprisoned the director of another Islamist terrorist network. Belgium warns of legalistic Brotherhood influence while explicitly distinguishing it from violence. Austria has just severed relations with a deradicalisation organisation after its intelligence service alleged Brotherhood influence, an allegation the organisation vigorously denies. Europol, meanwhile, continues to describe jihadism as the European Union’s dominant terrorism threat.

Taken separately, each can be dismissed as a national controversy.

Taken together, they describe a political and religious landscape Europe has never fully mapped.

The next task is not to panic about Muslims. It is to stop pretending that Islamism becomes imaginary merely because describing it accurately is politically uncomfortable.

Sources

  1. UK Government, Protecting What Matters, April 2026

  2. UK Government, Muslim Brotherhood Review, main findings

  3. UK Home Office, proscribed organisations and Hizb ut-Tahrir

  4. French Interior Ministry, Frères musulmans et islamisme politique en France

  5. Council of European Muslims, response to the French report

  6. Légifrance, decree dissolving the Institut Européen des Sciences Humaines

  7. French decree, material concerning Jews, Christians, women and minors

  8. UK Charity Commission, Europe Trust financial record

  9. Dutch Parliament, inquiry into unwanted foreign influence

  10. DITIB, Germany’s imam-training programme

  11. Hamburg authorities, prohibition of the Islamic Centre Hamburg

  12. Austrian Interior Ministry, intelligence assessment concerning DERAD

  13. ORF, DERAD response to the Austrian intelligence assessment

  14. US Treasury, July 2026 Muslim Brotherhood and Hamas financial-network designations

  15. Crown Prosecution Service, Anjem Choudary conviction

  16. Belgian State Security, Intelligence Report

  17. Europol, EU Terrorism Situation and Trend Report 2026 findings

  18. IFOP, 2025 survey of Islam and Islamism among French Muslims

  19. European Commission answer concerning FEMYSO funding

  20. European Commission response following the 2025 French report