Coin Press - Europe’s power shock

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Europe’s power shock




On 28 April 2025, an unprecedented power failure plunged most of Spain and Portugal into darkness. Within seconds the Iberian Peninsula lost around 15 gigawatts of generation—roughly 60 % of demand. Flights were grounded, public transport stopped, hospitals cancelled routine operations and emergency services were stretched. Spain’s interior ministry declared a national emergency, deploying 30 000 police officers, while grid operators scrambled to restore power. The outage, thought to have originated in a failed interconnector with France, highlighted the fragility of Europe’s interconnected grids. An industry association later reported that it took 23 hours for the Iberian grid to return to normal capacity.

Energy analysts noted that the blackout was not only a technical failure but also a structural one. Spain and Portugal depend heavily on wind and solar power, which provide more than 40 % of Spain’s electricity and over 60 % in Portugal. These sources supply little rotational inertia, so when the France–Spain interconnector tripped the system lacked the flexibility and backup capacity to stabilise itself. Reliance on a single interconnector also left the peninsula “islanded” and unable to import power quickly.

A continent on edge
The Iberian blackout came against a backdrop of soaring energy prices, economic malaise and rising electricity demand from data centres and electrified transport. Europe has spent the past two years grappling with the fallout from Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, which cut cheap gas supplies and forced governments to scramble for alternative fuels. Germany’s Energiewende, once a model for the energy transition, has been strained. After shutting down its last three reactors on 15 April 2023, Germany shifted from being a net exporter of electricity to a net importer; by November 2024 imports reached 25 terawatt‑hours, nearly triple the 2023 level. About half of the imported electricity came from France, Switzerland and Belgium—countries whose power systems are dominated by nuclear energy. Germany’s gross domestic product shrank 0.3 % in 2023 and was expected to contract again in 2024, and a survey of 3 300 businesses found that 37 % were considering reducing production or relocating because of high energy costs; the figure was 45 % among energy‑intensive firms.

The collapse of domestic nuclear generation has increased Germany’s reliance on coal and gas. In the first half of 2025 the share of fossil‑fuel electricity rose to 42.2 %, up from 38.4 % a year earlier, while power from renewables fell by almost six percent. Coal‑fired generation increased 9.3 % and gas‑fired output 11.6 %; weak winds cut wind output by 18 %, even as solar photovoltaic production jumped 28 %. The result has been higher emissions and greater dependence on imports.

Yet Germany’s grid remains resilient: the Federal Network Agency reported that power disruptions averaged 11.7 minutes per customer in 2024—one of the lowest figures in Europe—and the energy transition has not compromised supply security. Nevertheless, researchers warn that unexpected shocks like the Iberian blackout could occur if investment in grid flexibility and storage does not keep pace.

Nuclear renaissance across Europe
The energy crisis has prompted many European governments to re‑examine nuclear energy. Belgium has repealed its nuclear‑phase‑out law and plans new reactors, arguing that nuclear power provides reliable, low‑carbon electricity. Denmark, Italy, Poland, Sweden and Spain have all signalled interest in building new plants or extending existing reactors. Italy intends to bring nuclear power back by 2030, while Denmark and Sweden are exploring small modular reactors. The European Union already has about 100 reactors that supply almost a quarter of its electricity. Nuclear plants emit few air pollutants and provide round‑the‑clock power, making them attractive for countries seeking to cut emissions and reduce reliance on gas. Critics remain concerned about waste disposal and the possibility that investment in nuclear could divert resources from renewables.

This shift is visible at the political level. In September 2025, France and Germany adopted a joint energy roadmap that recognises nuclear energy as a low‑carbon technology eligible for European financing. The roadmap aims to end discrimination against nuclear projects and represents a departure from Germany’s long‑standing opposition. It does not alter national policies but signals a shared stance in forthcoming EU negotiations.

Germany’s political U‑turn
Germany’s nuclear exit has become a central issue in domestic politics. Surveys show that two‑thirds of Germans support the continued use of nuclear energy, and more than 40 % favour building new plants. A 2024 report argued that there are no significant technical obstacles to restarting closed reactors and that three units could be back online by 2028 if decommissioning were halted, adding about 4 gigawatts of capacity. The same report noted that a moratorium on dismantling reactors and amendments to the Atomic Energy Act are urgent prerequisites.

During the February 2025 election campaign, conservative leader Friedrich Merz pledged to revive nuclear power and build 50 gas‑fired plants to stabilise the grid. His party’s manifesto proposed an expert review on restarting closed reactors and research into advanced technologies such as small modular reactors. In a surprising political shift, Merz’s government subsequently stopped blocking efforts at the European level to recognise nuclear power as a sustainable investment. At a Franco‑German summit in Toulon, he and French president Emmanuel Macron agreed on the principle of non‑discrimination for nuclear projects in EU financing.

However, the internal debate is far from settled. Katherina Reiche, Germany’s economy and energy minister, ruled out a return to conventional nuclear plants, saying that the phase‑out is complete and that companies lack the confidence to invest. She argued that the opportunity to extend the last three reactors during the crisis had been missed and emphasised the government’s focus on developing a domestic fusion reactor and potentially small modular reactors. Reiche also insisted on a “reality check” for renewable expansion and called for up to 20 gigawatts of new gas‑fired backup capacity. Her position reflects caution within the coalition, and some experts note that restarting closed reactors may face legal and economic hurdles.

Industrial relief and future challenges
High energy costs continue to burden German industry. In November 2025 the ruling coalition agreed to introduce a subsidised power price of five euro cents per kilowatt‑hour for energy‑intensive companies until 2028, pending EU approval. The plan aims to ease the competitive disadvantage faced by manufacturers and includes tendering eight gigawatts of new gas‑fired capacity. Critics argue that subsidies are a stop‑gap and that longer‑term competitiveness requires affordable, low‑carbon baseload power and streamlined permitting for renewable projects.

The Iberian blackout served as a warning that Europe’s future grid must be flexible and resilient. Analysts emphasise the need for more interconnectors, battery storage and demand‑side management to accommodate variable renewables. Germany’s grid reliability remains among the best in Europe, yet the country’s growing dependence on imports and fossil fuels raises concerns about security and climate targets. The energy crisis has revived nuclear energy as a serious option across Europe, forcing policymakers to balance decarbonisation with security of supply. Whether Germany fully embraces nuclear again remains uncertain, but the debate underscores a broader realisation: the energy transition requires a diversified mix of technologies, robust infrastructure and pragmatic policies rather than dogma.



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Long live Ukraine - Хай живе Україна - Да здравствует Украина

Es lebe die Ukraine - Да здравствует Украина - Long live Ukraine - Хай живе Україна - Nech žije Ukrajina - Länge leve Ukraina - תחי אוקראינה - Lang leve Oekraïne - Да живее Украйна - Elagu Ukraina - Kauan eläköön Ukraina - Vive l'Ukraine - Ζήτω η Ουκρανία - 乌克兰万岁 - Viva Ucrania - Ať žije Ukrajina - Çok yaşa Ukrayna - Viva a Ucrânia - Trăiască Ucraina - ウクライナ万歳 - Tegyvuoja Ukraina - Lai dzīvo Ukraina - Viva l'Ucraina - Hidup Ukraina - تحيا أوكرانيا - Vivat Ucraina - ขอให้ยูเครนจงเจริญ - Ucraina muôn năm - ژوندی دی وی اوکراین - Yashasin Ukraina - Озак яшә Украина - Živjela Ukrajina - 우크라이나 만세 - Mabuhay ang Ukraine - Lenge leve Ukraina - Nyob ntev Ukraine - Да живее Украина - გაუმარჯოს უკრაინას - Hidup Ukraine - Vivu Ukrainio - Længe leve Ukraine - Živjela Ukrajina - Жыве Украіна - Yaşasın Ukrayna - Lengi lifi Úkraína - Lank lewe die Oekraïne

Stargate project, Trump and the AI war...

In a dramatic return to the global political stage, former President Donald J. Trump, as the current 47th President of the United States of America, has unveiled his latest initiative, the so-called ‘Stargate Project,’ in a bid to cement the United States’ dominance in artificial intelligence and outpace China’s meteoric rise in the field. The newly announced programme, cloaked in patriotic rhetoric and ambitious targets, is already stirring intense debate over the future of technological competition between the world’s two largest economies.According to preliminary statements from Trump’s team, the Stargate Project will consolidate the efforts of leading American tech conglomerates, defence contractors, and research universities under a centralised framework. The former president, who has long championed American exceptionalism, claims this approach will provide the United States with a decisive advantage, enabling rapid breakthroughs in cutting-edge AI applications ranging from military strategy to commercial innovation.“America must remain the global leader in technology—no ifs, no buts,” Trump declared at a recent press conference. “China has been trying to surpass us in AI, but with this new project, we will make sure the future remains ours.”Details regarding funding and governance remain scarce, but early indications suggest the initiative will rely heavily on public-private partnerships, tax incentives for research and development, and collaboration with high-profile venture capital firms. Skeptics, however, warn that the endeavour could fan the flames of an increasingly militarised AI race, raising ethical concerns about surveillance, automation of warfare, and data privacy. Critics also question whether the initiative can deliver on its lofty promises, especially in the face of existing economic and geopolitical pressures.Yet for its supporters, the Stargate Project serves as a rallying cry for renewed American leadership and an antidote to worries over China’s technological ascendancy. Proponents argue that accelerating AI research is paramount if the United States wishes to preserve not just military supremacy, but also the economic and cultural influence that has typified its global role for decades.Whether this bold project will succeed—or if it will devolve into a symbolic gesture—remains to be seen. What is certain, however, is that the Stargate Project has already reignited debate about how best to safeguard America’s strategic future and maintain the balance of power in the fast-evolving arena of artificial intelligence.

Iran and the holy War risk

For now, Iran does not appear to be launching a formal holy war. But the question is no longer rhetorical. After the bombings that turned a long shadow conflict into an open regional war, religious language has moved from symbolic background noise toward the center of state messaging. The more important issue is not whether Tehran will suddenly summon the Muslim world into a single, borderless struggle. It is whether the Islamic Republic will fuse military retaliation, political succession, proxy activation and sacred rhetoric into a broader campaign that functions like a holy war without ever formally declaring one.The current crisis is already historic. Since the joint U.S.-Israeli attack of February 28, which killed Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and struck Iranian state and military targets, the conflict has spread across Israel, Lebanon, the Gulf and the energy corridors that underpin the global economy. Public death tolls inside Iran alone have climbed into the four figures. Even though international nuclear inspectors said early in the campaign that they had no indication several key nuclear installations had been hit or that radiation had spread beyond normal levels, later stages of the war clearly broadened toward oil storage, airports, command sites and urban infrastructure. This is no longer a contained deterrence exchange. It is a live contest over regime survival, regional order and strategic endurance.That is precisely why the phrase “holy war” must be handled with care. In January, influential voices inside Iran had already warned that any attack on the Supreme Leader would amount to a declaration of war against the wider Islamic world and could require a jihad decree. That language mattered then, and it matters even more now because the red line was crossed. Tehran can plausibly argue to its own hard-line base that the highest religious and political authority in the Islamic Republic was not merely challenged but assassinated. In ideological terms, that transforms retaliation from a policy choice into a sacred obligation. In political terms, it gives hard-liners a ready-made framework for widening the war.Yet rhetoric is not the same as doctrine, and doctrine is not the same as operational behavior. Iran’s response so far looks less like an uncontrolled call to universal religious uprising than a grim, state-directed campaign of calibrated punishment. Tehran has struck back with missiles, drones, maritime pressure and pressure on regional hosts of U.S. military power. It has also tried to impose costs on the world economy by turning the Gulf and the Strait of Hormuz into instruments of leverage. This is not the behavior of a leadership abandoning strategy for blind zeal. It is the behavior of a regime trying to survive by making the war too costly, too wide and too economically dangerous for its enemies to sustain indefinitely.That distinction matters. A genuine, formal holy war would imply a sweeping call for open-ended religious mobilization across borders, one that subordinates ordinary state interests to an all-consuming theological struggle. Iran has not done that in any clear, universal sense. It has instead behaved as a revolutionary state that uses sacred language to reinforce legitimacy, discipline supporters and justify retaliation. That model predates the current crisis. The Islamic Republic has always blended theology, nationalism, martyrdom culture, anti-Western resistance and hard security logic. The bombings have intensified that blend, but they have not erased the regime’s instinct for calculation.The strongest evidence against an immediate full holy-war scenario is inside Iran itself. The system’s first imperative has not been global mobilization; it has been continuity. Even after decapitation strikes, the state moved to preserve command structures, delegate powers downward and push the Assembly of Experts toward selecting a successor. By March 8, that succession process had reportedly advanced to the point where a decision had been reached, even if the name had not yet been publicly revealed. That is a survival reflex. Regimes preparing for limitless religious war do not usually prioritize constitutional succession, elite cohesion and internal control. Regimes fighting for their lives do.Iran’s regional behavior also shows tension between ideological fury and strategic restraint. President Masoud Pezeshkian’s apology to Gulf neighbors was extraordinary, not because it ended the war, but because it exposed the conflict inside Tehran’s own response. On one side sits the logic of escalation: punish every state that hosts U.S. forces, widen the crisis, raise oil prices, frighten shipping markets and prove that the bombardment of Iran cannot remain geographically contained. On the other side sits the logic of isolation avoidance: do not drive every Arab state irreversibly into the opposing camp, do not convert every neighbor into an active launchpad for anti-Iran operations, and do not make regime survival impossible by fighting the entire region at once.This internal contradiction is one reason the phrase “holy war” can mislead. What is unfolding is more dangerous in practical terms and more limited in formal terms. Iran may never issue a clean, universal call for a civilizational war against all enemies of Islam, yet it can still encourage clerical sanction, mobilize militias, inspire cross-border attacks, bless cyber retaliation, empower covert cells and unleash proxy violence under a sacred frame. That would be a hybrid escalation: not a single global summons, but a diffuse religious legitimization of a long, dirty regional war. For civilians, ports, airports, desalination plants, shipping lanes and energy markets, the difference may feel almost academic.The role of Iran’s allied armed networks reinforces that point. Hezbollah has entered the conflict, but not from a position of unchallenged strength. Its intervention has deepened political strain in Lebanon and highlighted how even Iran’s most loyal partners are balancing solidarity against self-preservation. Other aligned groups face similar pressures. The so-called axis can still hurt Israel, U.S. assets and regional infrastructure, but it is not a frictionless machine awaiting one theological command to move in perfect unity. The more Tehran leans on proxies, the more it reveals that its preferred method remains layered coercion, not a single dramatic declaration of holy war.There is also a sectarian and geopolitical reality that limits the holy-war model. The Muslim world is not a single mobilizable bloc waiting for instructions from Tehran. Iran is a Shiite theocratic state with revolutionary ambitions, but its appeal across Sunni-majority states is uneven at best and sharply contested at worst. Gulf monarchies, already targeted by Iranian missiles and drones, are not natural participants in an Iranian-led sacred struggle. Many of them fear Tehran at least as much as they oppose the bombing campaign against it. That means Iran’s religious messaging may galvanize sympathizers, militants and ideological fellow travelers, but it is unlikely to unify the wider Islamic world behind one war banner.Still, dismissing the danger would be a grave mistake. The holy-war language matters because words can widen the menu of violence. Once a conflict is framed as sacred defense rather than national retaliation alone, thresholds can drop. Assassinations, sabotage, maritime attacks, strikes on civilian-linked infrastructure and violence by semi-deniable actors all become easier to justify. A state under bombardment, mourning its supreme leader and fighting for institutional survival may decide that conventional retaliation is not enough. If Tehran concludes that it cannot win symmetrically, it may authorize a looser, more ideological pattern of warfare stretching from the Gulf to the Mediterranean and beyond.The economic front is equally important. Iran understands that energy fear can be weaponized. Even limited disruption in the Strait of Hormuz sends shockwaves through insurance, shipping, aviation and inflation expectations worldwide. That leverage is politically valuable because it turns a military confrontation into a global pressure campaign. A formal holy war would demand maximal ideological mobilization. A survival war, by contrast, rewards selective disruption, ambiguity and controlled chaos. Tehran’s actions so far fit the second model more closely than the first.This is why the most serious answer to the headline question is not a simple yes or no. Iran is unlikely to launch a classic holy war in the simplistic sense of a formal, total religious call to arms that instantly unites the Muslim world under its banner. But it is already moving toward something more contemporary and, in some ways, more destabilizing: a war of survival wrapped in sacred legitimacy, regional coercion and asymmetric retaliation. The bombings have not merely invited revenge. They have strengthened the argument of those in Tehran who believe compromise invites death and that only resistance sanctified by faith can preserve the system.So the real risk is not that Iran suddenly abandons strategy for theology. The real risk is that strategy and theology fuse more tightly than before. If that fusion hardens, the war will not remain a sequence of missile exchanges and air raids. It will become a broader contest over succession, legitimacy, energy, maritime freedom, proxy warfare and the right to define resistance as a religious duty. In that environment, the phrase “holy war” may remain officially ambiguous, but its practical effects could become visible across the entire region.