The End of USAID? Marco Rubio Just Redefined Global Aid. Senator Marco Rubio is firing back at the critics.
The End of USAID? Marco Rubio Just Redefined Global Aid. Senator Marco Rubio is firing back at the critics.
While alarmists mourn the closure of USAID, Rubio reveals a bold new vision for American foreign assistance – one that officially cuts ties with wasteful NGOs and ideological agendas. Is this the start of a “People First” era or a global diplomatic shift?
Those worried about shuttering the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) were wrong, according to Secretary of State Marco Rubio, who touted the agency’s record in delivering support in the wake of Hurricane Melissa that ravaged the Caribbean in October.
Although USAID historically functioned as an independent agency to deliver aid to impoverished countries and development assistance, the State Department announced in March that it would absorb remaining operations and functions in an effort to streamline operations to deliver foreign assistance amid concerns that USAID did not advance U.S. core interests. The move resulted in cuts for thousands of USAID employees.
Critics including Sen. Bernie Sanders, I-Vt., said that upending the agency would “lead to millions of preventable deaths,” while a group of House Democrats wrote a letter to President DᴏпɑʟԀ Тгᴜᴍρ in February as USAID cuts got underway that changes would lead to increased maternal and child mortality.
But Rubio now claims those skeptics’ fears were unfounded.
Those worried about shuttering the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) were wrong, according to Secretary of State Marco Rubio. (Jose Luis Magana/The Associated Press)
“Alarmists in politics and the media forecasted that the closure of USAID would result in catastrophe. Now, nearly a year later, they’ve been proven wrong,” Rubio said in a statement to Fox News Digital.
“The State Department has realigned foreign assistance with the interests of the American people, streamlined disaster response capabilities, and leveraged the ingenuity of American companies to save lives.”
Specifically, Rubio pointed to the assistance the State Department provided in the aftermath of Hurricane Melissa, which hit Jamaica as a Category 5 hurricane and was the strongest to strike Kingston since the island started tracking its storms 174 years ago.
The State Department deployed a regional disaster assistance response team (DART) and activated U.S.-based urban search and rescue (USAR) teams to support response efforts in the region as part of recovery efforts.
Likewise, the State Department allocated roughly $1 million to go toward administering food and other resources to those in need, using predesignated supplies housed in 12 different warehouses across the region.
Ultimately, the State Department coordinated with the United Nations World Food Program to distribute 5,000 family food packs to families in Jamaica.
A man looks at a fallen tree in St. Catherine, Jamaica, shortly before Hurricane Melissa made landfall Oct. 28, 2025. (Ricardo Makyn/AFP via Getty Images)
“This new era of foreign assistance eliminates extreme ideological projects that previous administrations forced the American people to subsidize, cuts out the wasteful NGO industrial complex, and puts the American people first,” Rubio said.
The Council on Foreign Relations, a nonpartisan think tank, evaluated the State Department’s response to Hurricane Melissa looking at key performance indicators including speed, logistics, funding, and interagency coordination, and concluded that the U.S. “delivered a textbook surge of humanitarian aid in the wake of a natural disaster of historic magnitude.”
Sanders’ office did not immediately respond to a request for comment from Fox News Digital.
The Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) targeted USAID in its push to eliminate wasteful spending during a review earlier in 2025. The agency attracted scrutiny for a series of funding choices, including allocating $1.5 million for a program that sought to “advance diversity, equity and inclusion in Serbia’s workplaces and business communities” and a $70,000 program for a “DEI musical” in Ireland.
USAID was officially closed down in July — a move that attracted criticism from Democrats and former Presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama.
“Gutting USAID is a travesty, and it’s a tragedy,” Obama said in a video that was shown to departing USAID employees, according to The Associated Press. “Because it’s some of the most important work happening anywhere in the world.”
Obama labeled the decision to upend USAID “a colossal mistake,” and said, “sooner or later, leaders on both sides of the aisle will realize how much you are needed.”
“Gutting USAID is a travesty, and it’s a tragedy,” former President Barack Obama said in a video that was shown to departing USAID employees. (Spencer Platt/Getty Images)
Meanwhile, the State Department is undergoing its own transformation. In addition to absorbing USAID, the State Department has undergone a massive overhaul as part of the largest restructuring for the agency since the Cold War.
Additionally, it rolled out an America First Global Health Strategy in September to deliver health aid worldwide by working directly with recipient country’s governments instead of through non-governmental organizations and other aid programs.
In December, Kenya became the first country to sign a five-year, $2.5 billion Health Cooperation Framework agreement with the U.S. in alignment with this new strategy, which also aims for recipient countries to eventually bear more responsibility for their own health expenditures.
A Harsh Label, a Softer Voice — Why Kennedy’s Reply Hit Harder Than the Attack
Calling it a verbal clash does not fully explain what unfolded in that room, because what followed was not a collision of voices, but a reversal of momentum that few expected.
Ilhan Omar’s accusation arrived bluntly, delivered with the confidence of someone expecting friction, resistance, and a headline friendly exchange of force.
The language was sharp, intentionally framed to draw a reaction and to define the moment on her terms.
For a split second, the room braced for escalation.
History has trained audiences to expect retaliation in moments like this, a louder counterpunch, a sharper insult, a spiral of raised voices that feeds the cycle of outrage.
John Kennedy did not oblige.
Instead, he paused.
That pause mattered more than any immediate response could have.
It interrupted the rhythm of confrontation and forced everyone listening to reset their expectations.
Kennedy’s posture did not change dramatically.
His expression did not harden.
He did not lean forward as if preparing for combat.
He simply allowed the accusation to exist without rushing to crush it.
Observers later noted that this moment of restraint quietly shifted the balance of power in the exchange.
When Kennedy finally spoke, his voice was noticeably softer than the accusation that preceded it.
He did not deny disagreement, but he refused to perform outrage.
That choice alone unsettled the dynamic.
Rather than answering Omar on the level of insult, Kennedy reframed the exchange entirely.
He spoke about disagreement as something to be examined, not weaponized.
He addressed the substance beneath the label rather than the label itself.
In doing so, he deprived the accusation of its intended fuel.
The room reacted almost immediately.
The tension that had been coiled tightly began to loosen, replaced not by relief, but by attention.
People leaned forward instead of stiffening.
Whispers stopped.
The energy shifted from anticipation of conflict to focus on meaning.
Kennedy’s words were not dramatic.
They were measured, almost conversational, yet they carried a quiet authority that cut through the noise.
Political analysts later pointed out that restraint can be more destabilizing than aggression, especially in an environment conditioned to expect spectacle.
By refusing to escalate, Kennedy changed the terms of engagement.
The exchange was no longer about who could strike harder.
It became about who could command the room without raising their voice.
Omar’s accusation, designed to provoke, suddenly felt less central than Kennedy’s response to it.
Not because he dismissed it, but because he contextualized it.
He spoke about responsibility, about the weight of words, and about how labels can obscure more than they reveal.
That framing forced listeners to reconsider not just the exchange, but the broader habit of political discourse built on outrage.
Supporters of Kennedy praised the moment as an example of discipline under pressure.
They argued that his reply demonstrated confidence rooted in control rather than dominance.
To them, the softer voice signaled strength, not weakness.
It showed an understanding that authority does not always need volume to assert itself.
Critics, while disagreeing with Kennedy’s broader positions, acknowledged the effectiveness of the response.
They noted that calm delivery often lands more deeply than sharp rebuke, especially when the audience is fatigued by constant confrontation.
Even those inclined to side with Omar admitted that the exchange did not unfold as expected.
The harshness of the initial label faded quickly in memory, while the restraint of the reply lingered.
What made the moment resonate was not applause or outrage, but silence.
A silence that followed naturally, not awkwardly.
It was the kind of quiet that signals processing rather than discomfort.
In political settings, such pauses are rare.
They suggest that something has broken through habitual reaction and forced genuine consideration.
Commentators later remarked that Kennedy’s response illustrated a broader shift occurring in public debate.
Audiences are increasingly skeptical of performative outrage and more receptive to moments that feel grounded and deliberate.
In that context, restraint becomes a powerful rhetorical tool.
Kennedy did not seek to win the exchange in the traditional sense.
He did not aim for a viral soundbite or a cutting line.
He aimed for recalibration.
By lowering the temperature, he forced the conversation onto terrain where volume mattered less than substance.
That recalibration exposed the limits of the original attack.
Without escalation to feed on, the accusation lost momentum.
It became something to be examined rather than reacted to.
This is why the reply hit harder than the attack.
Not because it was more aggressive, but because it refused to play by the expected rules.
Kennedy’s softer voice created contrast, and contrast sharpened impact.
In a space saturated with loudness, quiet stands out.
Observers also noted the psychological dimension of the moment.
Aggressive accusations often rely on the opponent’s reaction to validate their force.
When that reaction does not come, the accusation hangs in the air, exposed and incomplete.
Kennedy allowed that exposure without exploiting it.
He did not press the advantage.
He let the moment speak for itself.
That restraint gave the exchange a gravity that shouting never could.
It suggested confidence not in dominance, but in position.
The aftermath of the exchange reflected this shift.
Media coverage focused less on the accusation and more on the response.
Clips circulated highlighting Kennedy’s tone rather than Omar’s words.
The narrative became about contrast rather than conflict.
Why did the softer voice resonate more.
Why did restraint feel more powerful than attack.
Those questions drove discussion long after the exchange ended.
Political strategists pointed out that moments like this can redefine public perception.
They show voters not just what a politician believes, but how they behave under pressure.
In that sense, Kennedy’s reply functioned as a character statement as much as a rhetorical one.
It signaled that he was willing to absorb criticism without reflecting it back as heat.
Whether one agrees with Kennedy’s politics or not, the exchange offered a lesson in tone and timing.
It demonstrated that power in discourse does not always belong to the loudest voice.
Sometimes it belongs to the one that refuses to shout.
The harsh label sparked the moment, but it did not define it.
The softer voice did.
By choosing restraint over retaliation, Kennedy shifted the exchange from spectacle to reflection.
And in doing so, he left an impact that outlasted the attack itself.
