U.S. aid suspension is a COVID-19 for Civil Society
What the U.S. Aid Freeze Reveals About Fragile Systems, and the Road Ahead
The abrupt suspension of the U.S. foreign aid has sent shockwaves across the globe, dismantling civil society structures almost overnight. This unprecedented move, likened to the disruptive force of the COVID-19 pandemic, has left thousands of organizations and millions of lives in limbo. From Ukraine's war-torn communities to global human rights advocates, the effects are profound.
What happened?
The global humanitarian system exploded by a sudden move: the U.S. State Secretary has suspended all foreign aid and ordered an audit for every program, based on the new Administration’s executive order on foreign aid. On Monday, January 27, thousands of grant recipients from Ukraine to Bangladesh and from Israel to exiled communities elsewhere, as well as international media development organizations like Free Press Unlimited received freeze letters saying that their activities and budgets had been suspended for a minimum of 90 days. U.S. government is now issuing Stop Work orders for all contracts, grants, and cooperative agreements.
Thousands of projects powered by the American tax payers money started suspending all activities, with some of them projecting they will probably have to stop working completely if they do not get alternative support.
The decision to freeze USAID money for minimum 90 days came as sudden as once COVID-19 started spreading across the globe, killing thousands. Though, it was not as surprising. President Donald Trump and his allies were pretty vocal through years about their plans to cut off foreign aid, especially the programs targeting freedom of speech, gender equality, human rights, and diversity. Now that they took over Presidential Administration, such initiatives are in a full swing.
How it affects life, war, and power balance in Ukraine and Eastern Europe?
According to the Financial Tracking Service, United States is number one in the foreign aid: in 2024, American tax payers contributed $13.80 billion to humanitarian efforts globally, representing 43% of the total funding. For instance, French government contributed only 1,9% of global funding, and European Commission had 8,1%.
Screenshot from the Financial Tracking Service
Such aid impacts the way countries develop their policies and build strategies. It shapes cultures and decision-making processes. It means a world to some communities, enabling, for instance, LGBTQ people advocate for their rights in Ukraine or Georgia.
For countries in active war such as Ukraine, it also means that the foreign aid covers some of the governmental activities and services, like reconstruction of schools destroyed by Russian missiles, or support for internally displaced citizens (and there are more than 3 millions of them).
Right after the USAID program managers sent freeze letters to their recipients, thousands of people have lost their jobs, a lot of highly qualified professionals among them. This is a big blow to the whole economy, not only to the pockets of the citizens working in the America-supported projects.
Ukrainian government relied on the American tax payers aid on a massive scale. Everything from reconstruction of schools to the nation-wide mental health program “How are you?” by First Lady Olena Zelenska was funded by USAID. Now it’s gone. Some projects that played vital role for governmental institutions simply stopped working.
What This Disaster Tells Us About?
The suspension of U.S. foreign aid underscores a critical vulnerability: the over-reliance of civil society organizations on a single donor. This dependency created a precarious ecosystem where political decisions can lead to instant destabilization. The collapse mirrors the effects of COVID-19 on healthcare systems, where the fragility of existing structures became painfully evident. The U.S. decision was not just financial but ideological, marking an intensification of the war on civil society.
This problem also highlights the inadequacies of current funding models. Many intermediary organizations consume a significant portion of aid budgets, leaving minimal resources for communities on the frontlines. This inefficiency raises legal and ethical questions about the mechanisms of international aid distribution. Moreover, it points to the need for diversified funding sources, sustainable practices, and stronger domestic support systems to buffer against such shocks.
The broader picture is alarming: the attack on civil society is a deliberate strategy aimed at eroding spaces for advocacy, accountability, and community resilience. When foreign aid disappears, it’s not just programs that vanish—it’s an entire ecosystem of support for marginalized voices, democratic governance, and humanitarian relief.
What’s Next?
Facing this crisis requires adaptive strategies reminiscent of the global response to COVID-19. The immediate priority is survival: organizations must stabilize their operations, explore alternative funding sources, and collaborate to pool resources effectively. Diversification of donors and revenue streams is no longer optional—it’s a necessity for resilience.
This moment also calls for civil society to rethink its role and methods. Transparency in how aid is allocated and used is critical to rebuilding trust. Additionally, fostering partnerships with local councils, private sectors, and multilateral organizations can create more robust systems less dependent on single-source funding.
Information dissemination plays a key role. Just as accurate data guided pandemic responses, the civil society sector must leverage technology and communication to adapt to this new reality. Collaboration with tech innovators can bridge gaps in resources, while advocacy efforts may target global audiences to pressure governments and institutions for renewed support.
Ultimately, the lesson is clear: civil society must evolve to withstand shocks, resist ideological warfare, and protect the most vulnerable. It’s a daunting path forward, but with innovation, unity, and persistence, it’s one we can (probably!) navigate.
Katerina Sergatskova, journalist and head of the 2402 Foundation (Daily Humanity).
Connect With Us:
Website: 2402.org
Email: eka@2402.org
Instagram: @2402Foundation
LinkedIn: 2402 Foundation
We also run a brand new Safe&Sane newsletter, check it out:
