In the sunlit living room of a modest apartment in Dearborn, Michigan, where the call to prayer drifts softly from nearby mosques on Friday afternoons, Fatima Ahmed folds laundry with hands that still bear faint ink stains from her days as a community organizer. It’s November 25, 2025, and as the 48-year-old mother of four sips tea from a chipped mug passed down from her grandmother, a news alert on her phone pulls her into a moment of quiet reflection: President Donald J. Trump has signed an executive order directing Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent to review specific chapters of the Muslim Brotherhood for potential designation as foreign terrorist organizations. For Fatima, whose family traces roots to Egypt’s Nile Delta and who immigrated in 1998 seeking stability for her children, the announcement stirs a complex swirl of memories—childhood stories of the Brotherhood’s early days as a charitable force in her homeland, contrasted with the fears that have shadowed Muslim American communities since 9/11. “We came here for peace, to build lives without looking over our shoulders,” she says softly, her voice carrying the weight of gatherings where neighbors share concerns about profiling and belonging. This order, fulfilling a long-standing campaign promise, isn’t just a policy shift—it’s a thread in the ongoing tapestry of American identity, where questions of security and community intertwine, leaving families like the Ahmeds to navigate the delicate balance between heritage and hope in a nation forever shaped by its search for common ground.
The executive order, inked on November 24, 2025, in a Rose Garden ceremony under a canopy of fading autumn leaves, sets in motion a structured review process under Section 219 of the Immigration and Nationality Act (8 U.S.C. § 1189) and related authorities like the International Emergency Economic Powers Act (50 U.S.C. § 1701). It directs Rubio, confirmed as secretary just days earlier in a 58-42 Senate vote, and Bessent, the former hedge fund manager now overseeing Treasury’s economic arsenal, to evaluate certain Brotherhood subdivisions for FTO status— a designation that would enable asset freezes, travel bans, and material support prosecutions for those linked to the group. Trump, standing tall in a navy suit with his trademark red tie, described the move as “long overdue,” tying it to broader efforts to counter threats from organizations that, in his view, undermine global stability. The Brotherhood, founded in 1928 by Hassan al-Banna in Egypt as a social and religious movement aimed at promoting Islamic values through education and charity, has long been a subject of international debate. Designated a terrorist entity by Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and the United Arab Emirates since 2013 following the ouster of President Mohamed Morsi—a Brotherhood affiliate—the group maintains chapters worldwide, including in the U.S., where affiliates like the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) focus on civil rights advocacy and voter engagement.
Efforts to label the Brotherhood in the U.S. date back to Trump’s first term, when a 2017 executive order tasked agencies with assessing its activities, but internal divisions—fueled by concerns over free speech and religious freedoms—halted progress, leaving the designation unresolved. A 2024 congressional report from the House Homeland Security Committee, drawing on declassified intelligence, highlighted alleged infiltration by Brotherhood-linked entities in American institutions, estimating $100 million in annual U.S. donations to global affiliates per a 2023 analysis from the Middle East Forum, a think tank focused on regional policy. The new order revives that momentum, echoing recent state actions like Texas Governor Greg Abbott’s November 18 declaration naming the Brotherhood a terrorist organization within the Lone Star State, which could disrupt local funding networks and set precedents for others. For communities like Dearborn’s, home to one of the largest Arab American populations in the U.S., the development prompts gatherings in community centers where elders like Fatima’s uncle, a retired mechanic who arrived in 1972, share stories over trays of baklava. “We built mosques and businesses here with our own hands; now we wonder if our work gets painted with a broad brush,” he reflects, his words a gentle call for clarity amid the uncertainty.
Rubio, the Florida senator whose Cuban heritage informs his staunch stance against authoritarian influences in the Americas, brings a personal lens to the directive, his confirmation hearing testimony emphasizing the need to address “ideological threats that mask as charity.” At 54, Rubio has navigated the Brotherhood issue since his early Senate days, co-sponsoring 2017 legislation to designate it and authoring reports on its global reach. Bessent, 62, a Wall Street veteran whose Treasury role now wields economic levers like sanctions, adds financial firepower, with his team already mapping assets tied to Brotherhood-linked entities in U.S. banks. The review process, expected to unfold over 60 to 90 days per State Department guidelines, will involve interagency assessments drawing on intelligence from the FBI and CIA, focusing on evidence of support for violence or subversion. “This isn’t about faith; it’s about actions that harm innocents,” Rubio stated post-signing, his tone measured as he addressed reporters on the White House driveway, where a light rain began to fall. For American Muslims like 29-year-old software engineer Aisha Rahman in Chicago, who volunteers with interfaith youth groups, the order raises questions of equity. “My parents fled persecution in Pakistan; we contribute here through taxes and time—will this cast shadows on all of us?” she wonders during a coffee meetup with friends, their conversation a blend of concern and commitment to community service.
The Brotherhood’s U.S. presence, through affiliates advocating for Palestinian rights and anti-discrimination efforts, has long been a point of contention, with groups like CAIR filing lawsuits against perceived overreach—over 20 cases since 2017, per their legal docket. A 2024 report from the Center for Security Policy, a conservative think tank, detailed alleged funding flows from U.S. donors to overseas chapters, prompting calls for transparency that the order aims to enforce. Yet, voices from the Muslim Public Affairs Council emphasize the distinction: “Charitable work for orphans in Gaza isn’t terrorism; it’s humanity,” spokesperson Hoda El-Men’shawy said in a November 25 statement, urging reviews that differentiate advocacy from aggression. Public reactions have unfolded with the steady rhythm of neighborhood talks, from Dearborn diners where plates of shawarma accompany discussions of daily life under scrutiny, to Virginia cul-de-sacs where families of mixed faiths share backyard barbecues pondering the balance between security and solidarity. A poll from the Arab American Institute in October 2025 found 68 percent of respondents supporting targeted anti-terror measures but 82 percent opposing broad labels on religious groups, a sentiment that underscores the nuanced navigation ahead.
🚨 BREAKING: By stroke of pen, President Trump OFFICIALLY orders Marco Rubio and Scott Bessent to designate Muslim Brotherhood chapters as Foreign Terrorist Organizations
MASSIVELY OVERDUE! 🔥
“This order sets in motion a process by which certain chapters or other subdivisions… pic.twitter.com/C6zWBMGkUI
— Eric Daugherty (@EricLDaugh) November 24, 2025
As the review commences, with Rubio and Bessent convening interagency teams in secure briefing rooms lined with maps of global finance flows, the order’s path forward holds the potential for both clarity and complication. Legal challenges from affected organizations are anticipated, drawing on First Amendment precedents like the 2010 Holder v. Humanitarian Law Project case, which upheld restrictions on material support but protected pure speech. For Fatima Ahmed, folding that last towel as her children call from the kitchen for dinner, the news lingers like a half-read letter—full of questions, yet open to answers that honor the contributions of her community. In a nation where faith and freedom intersect in daily devotions and civic duties, this directive invites a moment of mindful dialogue, where the pursuit of safety strengthens the shared spaces that define us all.