Europe Burns: Climate Change Claimed Its Season
Jean-Luc Gleyze, who oversees the Gironde department that lost more than 20,000 hectares to fire in 2022 and has been watching the landscape tighten with heat and dryness every year since, has started using a phrase that sounds almost counterintuitive in a moment obsessed with technology: return to ancestral knowledge.
Europe Burns: Climate Change Claimed Its Season
The fires in France and Spain were not a surprise. That is what makes them hard to write about — not the scale, which is severe, but the familiarity. Scientists measuring this summer's wildfire conditions across southwestern Europe confirmed what the air already told anyone standing in the Gironde: this was not an anomaly. Climate change has made seasons like this measurably, demonstrably more likely, and the gap between warnings issued and action taken has become its own kind of catastrophe.
Jean-Luc Gleyze, who oversees the Gironde department that lost more than 20,000 hectares to fire in 2022 and has been watching the landscape tighten with heat and dryness every year since, has started using a phrase that sounds almost counterintuitive in a moment obsessed with technology: return to ancestral knowledge. Former firefighter Stéphane Delpeyrat-Vincent, whose research firm WARUCENE works at the intersection of ecology and emergency response, is making the same argument from a different direction. The industrial model of forest management — dense, monocultural, optimised for timber — turns out to be optimised for burning, too.
There is something quietly radical in this. Europe has spent decades building elaborate early-warning systems, air tanker fleets, cross-border firefighting cooperation. All of it necessary. None of it sufficient. The researchers studying this summer's conditions are pointing toward a longer answer: how land is managed between fires matters as much as how fires are fought when they start. Diverse, traditionally managed forest holds moisture differently. It breaks the continuity that lets a fire travel forty kilometres overnight.
In the United States Senate, a different kind of reckoning is moving through committee — a sweeping sanctions bill that would impose tariffs of up to 100 percent on Russian energy exports, extending the economic pressure on Moscow in ways that would ripple far beyond Ukraine. The bill, named for the late Senator Lindsey Graham, carries implications that reach deep into Asia. India and China, both of which have absorbed significant volumes of discounted Russian oil since 2022, would face serious economic friction under its provisions. New Delhi, in particular, has walked a careful line between Western partnerships and energy pragmatism. That line is about to get harder to walk.
What links these two stories — European wildfires and an American sanctions bill — is the same uncomfortable truth about the shape of the decade we are in: the costs of decisions made or deferred are arriving now, and they are arriving simultaneously. The Gironde is burning because of thirty years of carbon accumulation and forest mismanagement. India is navigating sanctions exposure because of four years of calculated neutrality. Neither problem has a clean solution, only a direction.
The stones in Valletta hold heat differently in July than they do in March. You notice it more each year. The Mediterranean is not abstraction — it is the air outside the window.
*By Isla Camilleri, Global Affairs & Lifestyle Editor*