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As the Trump administration moves to label chapters of the Muslim Brotherhood as foreign terrorist organizations, Washington’s fraught relationship with political Islam enters a new and uncertain phase with implications from Cairo to Ottawa to Capitol Hill.
According to reporting from The Washington Post and other major outlets, the Trump administration has moved to formally designate certain chapters of the Muslim Brotherhood as Foreign Terrorist Organizations (FTOs) under U.S. law. While the precise scope and list of entities are still being parsed by analysts, officials have signaled a focus on Brotherhood-affiliated groups connected to violent activity or already proscribed by close U.S. partners such as Egypt and the United Arab Emirates.
Under Section 219 of the Immigration and Nationality Act, an FTO designation can trigger:
But this is not a blanket ban on all Brotherhood-linked movements across the globe. The administration appears to be targeting specific chapters and entities, not issuing a single, monolithic designation that covers every organization claiming Muslim Brotherhood lineage from North Africa to Europe to North America.
That nuance matters. The Muslim Brotherhood is less a centralized corporation than a loose, often fragmented network with drastically different local expressions. Some branches are banned and have faced violent repression (Egypt), some participate in democratic politics (Jordan, Tunisia), and others operate largely as social movements or charities.
Founded in Egypt in 1928 by Hassan al-Banna, the Muslim Brotherhood began as a religious, social, and political reform movement focused on combating colonial influence and promoting Islamic values in public life. Over time, offshoots and ideological descendants emerged across the Middle East and beyond.
U.S. policy toward the Brotherhood has long been ambivalent and inconsistent:
Analysts interviewed over the years by outlets like Foreign Affairs, The New York Times, and The Hill have repeatedly underscored that the Brotherhood is not a single, unified entity and that its relationship to violence varies by country and faction. That complexity is precisely what makes a sweeping terrorism label controversial and legally complicated.
The Trump administration’s posture toward the Muslim Brotherhood has, from the start, been much more skeptical than that of previous administrations. This new designation appears driven by a mix of ideological alignment, regional alliances, and domestic political signaling.
Egypt under President Abdel Fatah al-Sissi, along with the UAE and (at times) Saudi Arabia, has pushed Washington for years to formally brand the Brotherhood as a terrorist organization. Cairo banned the group after Sissi’s 2013 military takeover that ousted Mohamed Morsi, a Brotherhood-linked elected president.
According to reporting from Reuters and AP News, Egyptian authorities have repeatedly framed the Brotherhood as an existential threat, holding it responsible for insurgent violence and instability. Labeling Brotherhood chapters as terrorists aligns Washington more closely with Sissi’s narrative and strengthens security cooperation, while sending a message to other Islamists in the region that the U.S. will side with authoritarian partners over Islamist parties, even when those parties participate in elections.
Within U.S. domestic politics, the Muslim Brotherhood has become shorthand in some conservative circles for a broader fear of “Islamist infiltration.” For parts of Trump’s base, pushing for a terror designation has been a longstanding priority. Commentators on right-leaning networks and think tanks have frequently portrayed the Brotherhood as the ideological gateway to groups like Hamas or al-Qaeda, even when that link is contested by security experts.
This move may be read by supporters as Trump “following through” on earlier pledges to take a harder line on political Islam and as a continuation of his administration’s broader narrative of toughness on terrorism and immigration.
Previous administrations—both Democratic and Republican—had considered but ultimately stepped back from a comprehensive FTO label for the entire Brotherhood. According to past reporting by The New York Times and CNN, U.S. intelligence and legal officials raised concerns about:
The Trump administration appears to have aimed for a narrower approach—designating chapters and linked entities—partly as a way to bypass some of those obstacles while still claiming a strong stance.
For Washington’s foreign policy establishment, the move raises immediate questions that go far beyond the Brotherhood itself.
In countries like Tunisia (with the Ennahda movement) or Jordan (where Brotherhood-aligned blocs have at times participated in elections), the U.S. has often tolerated or even quietly welcomed Islamist parties that work within democratic frameworks rather than outside them.
By designating some Brotherhood chapters as terrorist organizations, Washington risks:
Analysts quoted over the years in outlets like Brookings reports and The Economist have warned that when peaceful outlets are shut down, some frustrated supporters can gravitate toward more radical forces. The new designation may test that thesis in real time.
U.S. diplomats and intelligence officers often work in environments where Brotherhood-linked parties or individuals are part of coalition governments, parliaments, or civil society. If contacts with these actors now risk falling under the shadow of terrorism legislation, Washington may find its diplomatic options narrowed.
There’s also a pragmatic counterterrorism angle: non-violent Islamist actors have sometimes served as intermediaries in hostage negotiations, ceasefire talks, or local stabilization agreements. Overly broad terror labels can make those channels politically toxic, even when they are operationally useful.
European governments and Canada have generally taken a more differentiated approach, scrutinizing certain Brotherhood-linked organizations for extremism or hate speech but stopping short of blanket terror designations in most cases.
Canadian security agencies, as reported in domestic media including CBC and The Globe and Mail, have monitored some Brotherhood-associated networks while emphasizing case-by-case assessments rather than ideological bans. Several European states pursue similar strategies.
If Washington moves further toward broad-based FTO labels, it may widen the transatlantic gap on how to handle non-violent political Islam, complicating intelligence-sharing and joint deradicalization programs.
For Muslim communities in North America, the Brotherhood designation lands in a broader climate of polarization over immigration, Islamophobia, and domestic extremism.
Many U.S. and Canadian mosques, charities, and advocacy organizations have members or leaders who may have personal sympathies with the Brotherhood’s historical goals—particularly in the immigrant generation that arrived from Egypt, Jordan, or the Gulf. That does not necessarily mean these groups are branches of the Brotherhood or involved in any criminal activity.
The core risk is guilt by association. Civil rights advocates told media outlets in past debates that once a political movement is branded terrorist—even partially—it becomes easier for law enforcement, politicians, or media commentators to cast suspicion on individuals or organizations based on ideological leanings rather than demonstrated involvement in violence.
In the U.S., this may translate into:
In Canada, where multicultural policy is more embedded in mainstream politics, the formal U.S. designation may not have direct legal force but can influence security cooperation and public perceptions. Canadian Muslim groups have previously expressed concern that foreign policy narratives can spill over into domestic Islamophobia, especially around election cycles.
On Reddit, early discussion in major politics and world news subreddits appears sharply divided:
On Twitter/X, the conversation trends along existing partisan and ideological lines:
In Facebook comment threads under articles from mainstream outlets, users who identify as Muslim or from Middle Eastern backgrounds often stress the potential for collective stigma. Some posts lament that “regular people will not differentiate between violent extremists and political Islam,” expressing fear that everyday Muslims will bear the brunt of backlash despite having no involvement with the Brotherhood.
This is not the first time a U.S. administration has faced controversy over whom it labels a terrorist organization. Past examples help frame today’s debate:
In each of these cases, the terrorism designation had consequences beyond the purely legal: it reshaped media narratives, public opinion, and diplomatic channels. The Brotherhood move is likely to follow a similar pattern.
Although the executive branch has broad authority to designate FTOs, those decisions can face court challenges or be probed by Congress.
Beyond the immediate uproar, the move may point to deeper shifts in how Washington defines terrorism and chooses its partners.
Traditional counterterror frameworks focus on organized violence—attacks, bombings, plots—rather than purely ideological alignment. Critics of the Brotherhood designation worry that Washington is now edging toward a model where political Islam itself is treated as a presumptive security threat, regardless of whether a given branch or party has engaged in violence.
If that trend continues, it could open the door to designations driven more by ideology and alliances than by transparent evidence of terrorism. That, in turn, may invite greater politicization of what is supposed to be a legal and intelligence-driven process.
For audiences in the Middle East and in diaspora communities in North America, the move may reinforce a narrative that the U.S. is comfortable with authoritarian crackdowns so long as they target Islamist opponents.
This perception can weaken U.S. soft power, especially among young Muslims who may already be skeptical about American intentions after the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the handling of the Arab Spring, and ongoing support for allied monarchies and strongmen.
For audiences in the U.S. and Canada, three developments will be particularly revealing:
The Trump administration’s decision to designate chapters of the Muslim Brotherhood as foreign terrorist organizations is more than a bureaucratic change in a sanctions list. It is a symbolic and strategic turning point in how Washington deals with political Islam, authoritarian allies, and Muslim communities at home and abroad.
Supporters see it as overdue recognition of a movement they view as inherently destabilizing. Critics warn that it blurs the line between violent extremism and non-violent religious politics, risks entrenching authoritarianism in the Middle East, and may fuel suspicion against Muslims in North America.
In practical terms, the coming months will show whether this is primarily a symbolic gesture aimed at allies and domestic constituencies—or the beginning of a broader, more far-reaching redefinition of terrorism in U.S. law and foreign policy. For now, one thing is clear: the designation is less about a single organization than about how the West chooses to engage with political Islam in an era of deep global polarization.