Last week, in a flurry of unprecedented actions, the Trump administration and its shadow advisor, Elon Musk, effectively shut down the United States Agency for International Development — the largest single foreign aid donor in the world. Paired with an onslaught of executive orders from President Trump taking aim at racial justice, trans rights, immigration, and reproductive rights, USAID’s planned closure has deeply shaken organizations fighting for human rights around the world.
In response, foundations are receiving an influx of requests for crisis grants from nonprofits facing a sudden loss of U.S. funding for long-standing work, as well as from groups shoring up resistance to the Trump administration’s anti-human rights agenda.
In this moment of intentional chaos, panic, and global fallout, what can philanthropy do?
To answer this question, funders must reassess their role in what some are calling a “post-aid world,” and unflinchingly reflect on the current — and future — state of philanthropy. Crucially, they need to ask what’s at stake. The unavoidable answer is democracy itself. Only then can the sector do what is required: significantly reimagine philanthropic power and responsibility.
The Big Picture
The dismantling of USAID follows a tried-and-true authoritarian strategy of weakening civic infrastructure. Around the world, far-right leaders are dismantling democratic institutions to restrict opposition.
Two strategies stand out in this authoritarian playbook. First, targeting LGBTQI communities, women’s rights, and gender equality to drum up far-right populist support. Second, obstructing financial support to civil society through foreign agent laws that monitor and restrict the work of organizations receiving international grants, often under the guise of national security.
Foreign agent laws have proliferated in India, Venezuela, Russia, and many other countries in the surrounding regions. As human rights lawyer Maxim Krupskiy explains, these laws “stigmatize and restrict law-abiding NGOs, independent media and individuals” and are “a threat to democratic values.”
The dual strategies are intentional. Authoritarian leaders know what we know: A robust, diverse, and justice-centered civil society is the last bulwark against authoritarian power.
As democracy hangs in the balance, supporting civil society and social movements is an important act of resistance.
A Double Funding Hit
Foreign aid and philanthropy comprise the two largest funding sources for human rights movements around the world. However, both fields are rapidly changing.
Despite the unique theatrics of USAID’s evisceration, the Trump administration is following a global trend of right-wing governments drastically cutting aid budgets. The Dutch government, the seventh-largest donor of foreign assistance, plans to slash $2.4 billion in aid by 2027, with ripple effects already hitting feminist and LGBTQI movements. Sweden is halving foreign assistance with strong indications that aid to Global South countries will be irreparably damaged. These cuts are as calculated as the foreign agent laws — the flip side of the same coin.
But just as the need has grown, human rights philanthropy has fallen into a state of flux.
Several top private foundations are effectively reducing direct support for human rights and democratic change. Wellspring Philanthropic Fund, one of the top 10 funders of human rights, announced last fall that it would close by 2028, taking with it more than $300 million a year in support for global movements.
Other large grant makers have limited their funding. Open Society Foundations, the second-largest human rights funder, reduced staff by 40 percent and narrowed its regional and thematic scope into a new “opportunities for impact” structure. Several private foundations have decreased or closed their women’s rights portfolios recently.
As other funders work to make up the difference, budgets are tightening across the board. Whether these changes are isolated or will spark a domino effect remains to be seen.
Between philanthropic and government funding, the impact will likely be a decrease of tens of billions of dollars over the next several years. Cuts to U.S., Dutch, and Swedish foreign aid will total nearly $78 billion a year — over a third of all foreign aid globally.
For human rights specifically, analysis from Human Rights Funders Network, which I lead, suggests that up to $1 billion a year could disappear by 2028, between foundation grants and foreign aid.
The double hit of shrinking foreign aid and unstable philanthropic support presents an enormous threat to civil society at the very moment organizations are fighting to preserve democracy around the world.
In this moment of democratic crisis, let me be clear: There is no way existing philanthropy can fill the financial gap left by government aid cuts in the coming years. However, there is reason to hope that the foundations committed to this work — along with new and emerging resources — can create powerful opportunities for solidarity and resistance. Here’s how to make that happen:
Develop new approaches to collaboration. Philanthropy is at its best when it solves problems with both creativity and collaboration. To do so, funders should spread the risk and increase their impact by working together on shared strategies. Tools such as Human Rights Funders Network’s Better Preparedness Crisis Coordination Playbook offer a roadmap for funder collaboration in crisis. Promising new models, such as Alianza Socioambiental: Fondos del Sur, a collaboration of Global South-based funds providing resources to environmental justice movements, showcase the power of local grant makers coming together across issues and geographies.
Act with purpose, not panic. A climate of fear and increased risk aversion has consumed the funding field. Deliberate attacks from conservative lawmakers and backlash related to support for Palestine have had a chilling effect. Meanwhile, Trump’s executive orders eliminating programs on DEI, abortion, and trans rights have sent foundations’ general counsels scrambling to understand the legal implications for themselves and for grantees receiving U.S. funding. Amid this panic, it’s possible grant makers may further shy away from funding trans rights, racial justice, immigrant rights, reproductive rights, and more.
But now is the time to double down on support for these movements. Foundation leaders — along with grant compliance and legal teams — should be honest about the amount of risk they’re willing to take, while ensuring fear doesn’t stifle their mission to support human rights and social justice. In this process, the activists who are most in danger should be engaged in determining funding priorities and brought into decision-making and program design.
Embrace new funding sources. While some human rights funding has moved away from traditional philanthropy, it could start appearing in new places. Funding for climate issues, for instance, is expanding rapidly, but often isolated from human rights funding. More active collaboration could mean both more support for human rights issues and a more effective approach to climate justice.
The face of wealth is also changing, with roughly $84 trillion predicted to be passed down to younger Americans in the next two decades. Philanthropy’s future depends on forming new alliances with new people. To make that happen, grant makers need to build narratives that speak to funders just entering the field, finding common goals and experimenting with collaborative efforts that quickly move resources where they’re needed.
Actively resist the rollback of rights. Just as movements are calling on funders to act, they are asking foundation leaders to use their power and voice. Fight back against this attack on democracy where possible. Undertake public advocacy or private outreach. Most of all, recognize this moment as a tipping point for democracy, and drive resources and political will toward protecting civil society.
It may not be time to panic, but it is time to come together. The clock is ticking.
