A USAID humanitarian aid warehouse in Colombia/AP

By Aftab Ahmed

February 6, 2025

Outside North America, on paper, the reaction to Donald Trump’s second term in the White House has mostly been measured rather than alarmist. Leaders across Europe, the Middle East, Asia, and Latin America are assessing the risks and potential payoffs his return presents. Most anticipate acute policy turbulence, while some see an opportunity to negotiate with an American President who prioritizes transactions over doctrine. An unspoken consensus seems to have emerged, at least for the moment: adapt to unpredictability, seize openings where possible, and prepare for volatility.

At the core of Trump’s behaviour is the stated rationale that isolationism is not what it used to be because America is saddled with faithless allies; that the U.S. has been perpetually shortchanged on the world stage. He frames international engagements as a series of bad bargains in which Washington gives too much and receives too little. The reality is quite the opposite. Few nations throughout history have exercised both political and economic clout as assertively or effectively as the U.S. By packaging these forms of leverage into a public policy toolkit, Washington has aimed to imprint and strengthen a Western-led, values-based international political economy.

Many interpret this paradigm as outright imperialism. Others view it as neocolonial control through economic and military dominance. Some consider it a form of neoliberal globalization, nurturing cycles of dependence while expanding markets under the guise of free trade. Ideologically unaligned partners argue that it represents the execution of a Washington-led world order, asserting that among superpowers, the U.S. is best positioned to lead. Democratically aligned allies regard it as the promotion of democracy and human rights — a stabilizing force against authoritarianism. For most countries, U.S. influence is neither entirely benevolent nor wholly oppressive: rather, it is a reality they must navigate and utilize to their advantage.

Trump presents a vision of America as weak, exploited, and in need of tougher negotiation. His solution is a hostile realignment to extract more from allies and adversaries alike while offering them less. History reveals a complex narrative of American power. Before 1945, geopolitics was dominated by economic nationalism and relentless conflict. After World War II, Washington secured its supremacy while operating as the principal architect of a world that achieved significantly better health, scientific, and educational outcomes. Achieved at a pace and scale once unthinkable, this new order lifted billions out of poverty and minimized large-scale wars.

One can question the intent behind Washington’s developmental agenda or argue that it leads to neocolonialism. But over time, American foreign aid has indisputably sustained large parts of Asia, Africa, and Latin America’s public health and education systems, saving and serving billions in the process. International developmental assistance, or foreign aid, is a marquee foreign policy tool that has enabled the U.S. to position itself as a strategic partner rather than an adversary to most nations, even those with whom it has serious philosophical differences.

Since its inception in 1961, USAID has consistently accounted for around one percent of the federal budget and currently operates with an annual budget of $40 billion. Over the decades, it has assisted more than 180 countries. Its programs have reduced global child mortality by more than 50 percent, nearly eradicated polio, and reduced extreme poverty worldwide. Beyond humanitarian success stories, there is a salient pattern: countries that once relied on U.S. aid have become dependable trade partners, security allies, and economic hubs that reinforce American global leadership. South Korea, Chile, Jordan, and Botswana are four such examples. Foreign aid has not been an act of charity: it has tactically morphed into a soft power-based economic investment that Washington has made since ascending to the geopolitical throne.

Before taking office, Trump made obvious his disdain for foreign aid. The dominoes fell quickly. Hours after being sworn in, he signed an executive order halting new foreign aid programs for 90 days, citing the need for efficiency and alignment with his administration’s foreign policy. Days later, his Secretary of State escalated the freeze, blocking new contracts and suspending many ongoing programs. The message was unmistakable: the agency was being dismantled.

Emerging economies will turn to alternatives, often at predatory trade-offs. Dependence on China and other authoritarian actors with big pockets will inevitably deepen.

The fallout has been immediate and severe. USAID funds nearly half of the world’s humanitarian assistance programs. Overnight, clinics treating malnourished children faced shutdowns. Nonprofits running school food programs had to let thousands of pounds of perishable food rot, unable to distribute it without violating stop-work orders. Maternal health clinics in Haiti, often the only safe option for pregnant mothers, teetered on the edge of closure.

A program helping Venezuelan refugees integrate into South American host countries collapsed. Over 1,000 staff were laid off from a USAID-funded diarrheal disease research center in Bangladesh, a country often touted as a success story in American-backed human development. Washington issued vague reassurances that life-saving aid could continue, but no one clarified what qualified. Confusion paralyzed the system. Every new administration reassesses foreign aid, but no president has ever frozen an entire agency without a plan.

Big Tech tycoon Elon Musk, one of Trump’s closest advisers and head of the newly created Department of Government Efficiency, has made his stance clear: the “criminal” USAID needs to be terminated. Trump has not minced words either — he too wants to shut down USAID entirely. This week, employees were locked out of their systems overnight, and inspection teams were sent to restricted areas. Agency staff were left staring at blank inboxes, afraid to act. Contractors could not get answers. Foreign governments reliant on American aid support were left in limbo, uncertain whether to prepare for a permanent withdrawal. A flood of waiver requests buried the State Department, yet no one knew who had the authority to grant them.

The consequences will be terrible. First, global public health will deteriorate. Countries that rely on American support to combat infectious diseases, sustain vaccination programs, and provide maternal care will face setbacks. Resurgences of preventable diseases are likely to follow, with Africa expected to be hit the hardest. Second, economic volatility is bound to rise in nations dependent on USAID funding for the day-to-day administration of developmental programs.

Third, emerging economies will turn to alternatives, often at predatory trade-offs. Dependence on China and other authoritarian actors with big pockets will inevitably deepen. Fourth, education systems in aid-reliant nations willsuffer. American-funded programs that provide school meals, teacher training, and infrastructural support will stall, forcing countless children — especially girls — out of classrooms and limiting long-term human capital improvements.

There is frustration in both the U.S. and Canada over why billions are sent abroad via foreign aid while domestic issues remain unresolved. Critics argue that taxpayer money should serve citizens at home rather than fund programs overseas. This sentiment is understandable at a time of affordability crises, but it reflects an underlying misreading of how power operates in an interconnected world. Foreign aid is not an act of goodwill: it is a well-thought-out instrument of political influence. The world is not an even playing field, and the most powerful nations bear strategic responsibility — not out of philanthropy, but to sculpt the environment in which they operate. Development assistance prevents crises that would otherwise escalate into conflicts, mass migrations, and economic disruptions, all of which have far greater opportunity costs.

USAID has its problems. Wasteful spending and a lack of transparency demand reform. But dismantling it would be an act of self-sabotage. Most in the humanitarian sector agree that Washington must review how its aid budget is spent, yet Trump’s chaos-driven behaviour will cripple the very system that, under U.S. leadership, has prevented many humanitarian disasters from spiraling into full-blown apocalypses. The U.S. has largely drafted the rules of international developmental assistance, and ripping them up by dismantling USAID would shatter a global humanitarian infrastructure at a time of intensifying crisis, conflict, and disease.

This is beyond reckless and short-sighted: it is a deliberate renunciation of responsibility and a calculated retreat from the obligations of a superpower, a myopic embrace of economic nationalism that is already erodingWashington’s global standing. The U.S. cannot hoard influence while abandoning the humanitarian stability that sustains it. Congress must intervene. The cost of inaction will be dreadful: public health and education systems will suffer in aid-dependent nations. Trump will certainly ignore the warnings, but the world must not stay silent.

Policy Contributing Writer Aftab Ahmed graduated with a Master of Public Policy degree from the Max Bell School of Public Policy at McGill University. He is a public policy columnist for Canadian and Bangladeshi media outlets and policy publications. He is currently a Policy Development Officer with the City of Toronto. The views expressed in this article are personal opinions and do not reflect the views or opinions of any organization, institution, or entity associated with the author.