Speaking with One Voice: Why Folding USAID into State Strengthens the Republic
The dissolution of USAID—an institution long considered the crown jewel of American humanitarianism—has caused no small stir among the bureaucratic class, the global NGO ecosystem, and those for whom inertia passes as moral virtue. Yet such reforms, though disruptive, are not only justified—they are necessary. Under the leadership of Secretary Rubio and President Trump, with operational execution led by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), the United States has finally begun the long-overdue task of reconciling its foreign aid with its foreign policy.
That sentence may surprise some. Isn’t foreign aid a tool of foreign policy? Ideally, yes. But in practice, the two have long existed in a state of awkward cohabitation. USAID, created by executive order under President Kennedy in 1961, was intended to be nimble, responsive, and aligned with executive authority. Instead, over the past six decades, it became precisely the sort of permanent, self-perpetuating bureaucracy the Framers would have abhorred: expensive, redundant, and structurally unaccountable. Its agents abroad frequently contradicted presidential policy; its programs multiplied beyond oversight; and its purpose drifted into abstraction.
To be clear: the issue is not whether the United States should offer life-saving aid. It should, and it will. The issue is whether that aid should be aligned with coherent national interests, subjected to fiscal restraint, and delivered by a government apparatus capable of speaking with one voice. The answer, now decisively, is yes.
Consider, for a moment, what USAID had become. A foreign aid agency should be a tool of diplomacy, one that strengthens alliances, alleviates suffering, and advances national interests. Instead, USAID became an ideological export factory—shipping out cultural fashions under the pretense of humanitarianism, with a price tag courtesy of the American taxpayer.
In Serbia, for example, USAID allocated $1.5 million to promote Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) in workplace settings. Not food, not medical aid, not infrastructure—DEI. In Ireland, the agency spent $70,000 to fund a musical production aimed at promoting “Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility.” If it seems unclear why a federal agency should bankroll Broadway-lite in the Eurozone, it is because no reason exists—other than the inertia of progressive piety. In Colombia, USAID granted $47,000 for a transgender-themed opera, a cultural indulgence indistinguishable from satire. Meanwhile, $2.5 million was sent to Vietnam—not for clean water or basic health services—but to promote electric vehicles, a pet fetish of climate technocrats. And then there is the $20 million “Sesame Street” localization in Iraq. Presumably, Grover and Elmo are to be deployed as instruments of Middle East stabilization. One struggles to imagine John Quincy Adams approving the appropriation.
These are not caricatures. They are actual USAID programs, documented and disbursed. And they are precisely why the agency had to go. None of these projects served strategic interests. None contributed to American security. And all reflected an insular, progressive worldview that treats every foreign society as a blank canvas for Western cultural reprogramming. If that is what humanitarianism has become, it is neither humane nor helpful.
The question, then, is not whether USAID failed. The question is how it survived for so long.
This is the core of the transformation announced in Jeremy Lewin’s March 28 memorandum to USAID staff. The agency, he explains, is no longer sustainable as an “independent establishment.” Its core functions—particularly those related to life-saving assistance and strategic programming—will henceforth be administered by the Department of State. The rest will be sunset. The process will occur in two phases, with the majority of USAID’s personnel receiving formal Reduction-In-Force (RIF) notices specifying separation dates of July 1 or September 2, 2025. Those dates are not arbitrary. They mark the culmination of a phased transition wherein the State Department will assume control, and USAID as a freestanding institution will cease to exist.
The finality of this decision is notable, not only because it ends a 64-year bureaucratic experiment, but because it does so with precision, legality, and respect. In the memorandum, Lewin expresses gratitude for those who continued to serve “amid considerable personal and professional uncertainty.” He outlines a clear hiring pathway into State for eligible employees and offers those impacted a dignified exit—complete with PCS travel, retention of earned benefits, and flexibility around administrative leave. This is not ideological vandalism. It is constitutional housekeeping.
What explains the timing? The political answer is simple: Donald Trump won the 2024 election with a mandate to bring discipline, clarity, and cost-effectiveness to the federal government. The ideological answer is deeper: conservative governance rests on the principle that policy must serve national interests, not bureaucratic inertia. If foreign aid contradicts the President’s stated agenda, or operates independently of diplomatic strategy, it becomes not merely inefficient, but undemocratic. It functions as a rogue polity within the federal structure—unaccountable to voters, Congress, or the executive. This cannot stand.
The deeper justification is fiscal. According to the March 28 press guidance, the agency had 898 active programs costing an estimated $78 billion—with over $8.3 billion in unobligated funds. These are staggering figures, particularly when juxtaposed with the $75.9 billion in terminated awards since January 20, 2025. That termination tally—5,341 awards—represents not a gutting of humanitarianism, but a return to sanity. Consider the logic: if $27.7 billion in unobligated funds can be redirected or saved simply by curating program relevance, then what was their purpose to begin with? Musk’s DOGE team, often caricatured as technocratic arsonists, in fact acted more like surgeons—removing bloat while preserving the vital organs of America’s aid posture.
Some will object: Isn’t this an abdication of global responsibility? Quite the opposite. As the official fact sheet explains, this transition “is not about ending foreign aid, but rather reorienting how we deliver aid to maximize impact, adopt a returns-oriented mindset, and center American strategic interests.” Aid remains a tool. But now, it is a tool with a hand behind it, and a mind guiding it.
One might analogize this reform to the consolidation of command in a military campaign. A general cannot fight a war with multiple field commanders issuing conflicting orders. Nor can a diplomat represent national policy when another agency conducts its own, often contradictory, operations under the same flag. In dissolving USAID and consolidating its essential functions under State, the Administration is not retreating from the world. It is sharpening its message, clarifying its values, and ensuring consistency in its conduct abroad.
Indeed, the deeper philosophical justification emerges here. A sovereign republic has a right—indeed, a duty—to align its expenditures with its interests. That includes foreign assistance. To suggest otherwise is to treat America as a kind of abstract NGO, beholden to all but accountable to none. The notion that humanitarianism must exist apart from, or in tension with, American interests is not ethically pure—it is politically incoherent. For any state to persist, it must prioritize its own coherence.
President Trump’s vision is clear: align government functions with executive policy, reduce duplication, spend taxpayer dollars prudently, and assert national interest without apology. These are not merely Republican ideals. They are constitutional ones. USAID’s dissolution is a practical enactment of that theory. The same logic undergirds the appointments of Marco Rubio, Pete Hegseth, Scott Bessent, and others—a Cabinet chosen not for symbolic optics, but for strategic alignment. The Trump Administration is not interested in governing from the margins of its authority. It is reclaiming the core.
The final mission fact sheet underscores this shift. Gone is the apologetic tone of past transitions. In its place is clarity: “We are not walking away from foreign aid; we are working to do foreign aid right.” The document anticipates every conceivable objection, from congressional authorization to overseas personnel logistics, and responds with specificity. There is nothing haphazard here. Everything has been architected for smooth transition, employee dignity, and policy alignment.
Some questions remain unresolved—what exactly the new aid architecture will look like inside State, or how interagency collaboration will function post-September. But these are practical matters, not conceptual defects. As the memo notes, structural realignments within State are forthcoming. What matters is the principle: foreign assistance must serve foreign policy, not the other way around.
Let us be clear-eyed about what has ended. USAID, once a symbol of American magnanimity, became over time a cathedral to managerialism. It replicated itself endlessly, reported to no one in particular, and issued grants as though benevolence were an entitlement. In restoring aid to its rightful place under the Department of State, the Trump Administration has done what previous presidents feared to attempt: shut down an agency not for scandal, but for strategic misalignment. This is a precedent that deserves to be studied, replicated, and celebrated.
At bottom, the story of USAID’s dissolution is a story of restoration. Not of dismantling American generosity, but of returning it to the care of American interests. Not of shrinking from the world, but of speaking to it with purpose. In an age of bureaucratic metastasis, restraint is the true radicalism. And in an era where governments often forget their constitutional bounds, this is what good governance looks like.
If you don't already please follow @amuse on 𝕏.