The United States Agency for International Development (USAID) presents itself as a beacon of humanitarian relief—a vessel of American generosity spreading prosperity and peace across the globe. Yet beneath this carefully manicured facade lies a far grittier reality: USAID functions not as a charitable force but as a political instrument, covertly advancing American geopolitical interests under the guise of altruism. From Latin America to Eastern Europe, its operations leave behind a trail of destabilization and suspicion, eroding the very credibility it claims to promote. President Trump, committed to exposing Washington’s bureaucratic rot, must seize this opportunity to dismantle USAID, an institution as deceptive in its purpose as it is dangerous in its execution.
USAID: A Cold War Relic in Modern Times
The creation of USAID in 1961 was no accident of goodwill. Its birth coincided with the zenith of the Cold War—a period when Washington, gripped by fear of communism, sought non-military methods to counter the Soviet Union’s ideological advances. As Thomas Jefferson once warned, “History, in its proper use, furnishes principles for judging the future,” and USAID’s early decades prove the point. Under the cloak of development aid, the agency became a tool for soft power infiltration, facilitating influence where bombs and bayonets would fail.
From Latin America to Southeast Asia, USAID was deployed to win hearts and minds—but always on America’s terms. Grants for “civil society” programs doubled as political levers, propping up opposition factions aligned with U.S. interests. In Bolivia, the early 2000s saw USAID funds directed toward groups antagonistic to the populist leader Evo Morales. Far from fostering democracy, such interventions destabilized already fragile societies, ensuring American leverage at the cost of local sovereignty. As in so many cases, USAID’s benevolent branding served as cover for overt interference.
Shadow Diplomacy and the Illusion of Neutrality
To the untrained eye, USAID’s initiatives often appear unimpeachable. Programs championing “election integrity” or “democratic governance” sound laudable, but the outcomes tell another story entirely. Ukraine offers perhaps the most glaring example. Prior to the 2014 Maidan protests, USAID poured resources into media outlets and non-governmental organizations critical of Viktor Yanukovych, a leader who balked at Western overtures. What followed—Yanukovych’s downfall and Ukraine’s spiral into geopolitical chaos—is a masterclass in how USAID’s so-called neutrality masks its true purpose: tilting foreign politics to align with Washington’s agenda.
Similar patterns emerge in Venezuela, where USAID’s “democracy assistance” conspicuously benefitted opposition forces antagonistic to Hugo Chávez. One cannot help but see USAID as a 21st-century version of Caesar’s legions—a quieter invasion, perhaps, but an invasion all the same. There is no charity in meddling with another nation’s sovereignty, and there is no neutrality in choosing sides.
The bureaucratic architects of USAID will protest: These efforts are about ‘empowerment,’ not influence. But their own actions betray them. Why else would USAID’s footprint so frequently overlap with America’s geopolitical battlegrounds? Its programs are not coincidentally partisan—they are deliberately designed to serve as instruments of shadow diplomacy.
USAID and Information Warfare: A Modern Weapon
Today, USAID has extended its operations into the digital realm, advancing not just influence but outright censorship. Under the guise of combating “disinformation,” the agency bankrolls media outlets and tech platforms that promote Washington’s preferred narratives while suppressing dissent. In Ukraine, USAID-backed initiatives systematically censored voices deemed “pro-Russian,” manipulating public perception to favor the West. This pattern repeats itself across regions where American influence is at stake—a quiet, Orwellian effort to mold truth into a weapon of statecraft.
USAID’s $50 billion annual budget underscores its significance not as a humanitarian force but as an apparatus for narrative control. Such immense financial power allows it to influence information ecosystems worldwide, blurring the line between aid and propaganda. Marcus Aurelius, in his Meditations, reminds us to “look beneath the surface; never let a thing’s intrinsic quality escape you.” When viewed with clarity, USAID’s activities reveal less about charity and far more about manipulation.
The CIA’s Silent Partner
The most damning evidence against USAID lies in its marriage of convenience with America’s intelligence community. During the Cold War, USAID openly worked in tandem with the CIA—funding informants, funneling resources to sympathetic organizations, and even enabling covert operations. Today, this relationship is more covert but no less insidious.
Consider USAID’s failed attempt to create a Cuban social media platform, ZunZuneo, in the early 2010s. Marketed as an innocuous digital service, it was revealed to be an operation designed to mobilize anti-Castro opposition. Far from development aid, this was espionage cloaked in connectivity—proof that USAID’s methods have evolved but its motives remain unchanged.
Mike Benz, a former State Department official, sheds further light on USAID’s activities. He describes the agency as “an infrastructure for geopolitical control,” operating with plausible deniability while advancing Washington’s strategic goals. Whether funneling resources to opposition factions in Venezuela or partnering with for-profit enterprises like Burisma in Ukraine, USAID’s actions undermine its own claims to neutrality and humanitarian intent.
The Tools Turned Inward: USAID Tactics on American Soil
The U.S. government, through agencies like USAID, has long employed “soft power” strategies abroad to influence foreign governments, particularly under the banner of promoting democracy. In Ukraine between 2010 and 2014, these tactics focused on shaping public perception by funding media networks, NGOs, and digital platforms that amplified opposition narratives. Western-backed campaigns framed the Yanukovych regime as corrupt and illegitimate, fostering unrest and ultimately leading to regime change. The tools were familiar—propaganda dressed as reform, messaging crafted to delegitimize state authority, and coordination with sympathetic media outlets. These methods succeeded because they capitalized on perceived crises to undermine the moral legitimacy of a sitting government.
Following Trump’s 2016 victory, a similar pattern emerged domestically. Trump’s election was seen as a crisis, not just for political elites but for the ideological forces invested in globalism and the “rules-based order.” The apparatus of soft power—media, NGOs, and digital platforms—turned inward. Traditional and online media became instruments of opposition, framing Trump’s presidency as an existential threat to democracy. Big Tech platforms, echoing tactics honed overseas, actively moderated and censored dissent under the guise of combating “disinformation.” Just as USAID-backed narratives in Ukraine positioned opposition forces as defenders of European values, American elites reframed Trump’s populist movement as authoritarian and anti-democratic, legitimizing extraordinary countermeasures.
By 2020, these tactics reached full maturity. A coordinated narrative emerged that cast Trump and his supporters as enemies of the republic, creating moral cover for unprecedented actions. Legacy media saturated the airwaves with apocalyptic messaging about Trump’s handling of COVID-19 and threats to electoral integrity, while Big Tech suppressed damaging stories, such as the Hunter Biden laptop scandal, labeling them “Russian disinformation.” The alignment of government-aligned NGOs, media networks, and Silicon Valley echoed foreign interventions where messaging control was key to regime change. What had once been exported to fragile states became the playbook for maintaining elite control in a divided America.
At its core, this argument suggests continuity: the same tools used abroad to shape foreign outcomes were deployed domestically to influence perception and political behavior. Trump’s presidency triggered a moral panic among elites who viewed his populism as a threat to the global order. In their eyes, suppressing dissenting voices and delegitimizing his administration was not merely politics but a defense of “democracy”—an ironic justification that mirrored interventions overseas. The consequence, however, was the erosion of core democratic principles on American soil: free speech, media impartiality, and the neutrality of public institutions.
A Trumpian Solution: Dismantling USAID
President Trump has long made clear his disdain for Washington’s bloated bureaucracies and their duplicity. USAID stands as a prime example of both—a Cold War relic operating with a modern veneer, advancing policies antithetical to America’s principles of transparency and sovereignty. To leave it untouched would be to perpetuate a dangerous illusion.
Eliminating USAID would send a powerful message: American foreign policy will no longer hide behind humanitarian rhetoric to justify intervention. In its place, a leaner, more focused Office of Humanitarian Assistance could emerge—one devoted solely to apolitical disaster relief, medical aid, and education. By stripping away the subversive mission, President Trump can restore integrity to America’s global outreach.
Critics will wail that dismantling USAID cedes influence to rivals like China. Yet the counterargument is stronger: Real power lies not in covert manipulation but in principled diplomacy. America’s strength comes from its ideals—not its ability to meddle in foreign politics. The fact that USAID’s tactics were turned inward against President Trump after his 2016 victory makes the case even more urgent. If an agency originally tasked with foreign influence can weaponize its methods against a sitting U.S. president, it represents not just a policy failure but a clear and present danger to the United States. The tools honed to destabilize foreign regimes are incompatible with democratic governance at home, and dismantling USAID would remove this dangerous apparatus before it can be further abused.
Conclusion
USAID’s record is one of quiet subversion, cloaked in the language of progress and charity. From Latin America to Ukraine, its interventions have destabilized nations, eroded trust, and turned humanitarian aid into a tool of influence. President Trump’s mandate to “drain the swamp” provides the perfect opportunity to dismantle this agency and rebuild American foreign policy on a foundation of honesty and sovereignty. To preserve USAID is to perpetuate a dangerous fiction—one that weakens America’s moral standing and betrays its foundational principles. Real charity does not require camouflage, and true strength does not fear transparency.
A. Muse is an entrepreneur and social media influencer.