Weeks after U.S. President Donald Trump froze foreign aid, The Rockefeller Foundation finally responded. In a vague statement, the foundation’s president, Rajiv Shah, praised USAID’s legacy and promised: “The Rockefeller Foundation is dedicated to doing our part.” But with billions of dollars on hold, vague isn’t enough.
After the gutting of foreign aid, most major philanthropies remain silent. Bloomberg Philanthropies pledged to fill the Paris Climate Agreement gap, the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation condemned Trump’s cuts, and the Novo Nordisk Foundation stayed out. Rockefeller’s response sparked frustration: “You have $6.2 billion in assets. What specifically are you doing to meet this moment and catalyze change?” asked a LinkedIn commenter.
Trump’s hostility to foreign aid isn’t new — his 2018 budget wanted to slash it by a third. This time, he acted almost overnight. “All indicators were pointing to the fact that it was going to be a lot worse,” says philanthropy consultant Tatyana Margolin. Foundations aren’t built for emergency response, but inaction now means collapse for front-line organizations, Devex contributor Lauren Evans writes.
Can philanthropy fill the gap? No. USAID spent $40 billion in 130 countries in 2023, far beyond what private philanthropy can match. But it isn’t just about replacing lost aid — it’s about rethinking the system. Calls to decolonize aid were growing even before this crisis. The long-term shift? More flexible, trust-based funding and bigger risks.
“We have relied on one country, one group of countries, one person, to bankroll an entire system. And when they change their mind, there’s collateral damage everywhere,” says Solange Baptiste of ITPC Global.
Read more: US foreign aid has collapsed. How should philanthropy respond?
