It was only a matter of time before a disaster struck to test the real-world effects — and the U.S. foreign policy cost — of President Donald Trump’s and Elon Musk’s chainsaw approach to foreign assistance “reform” and realignment. With this past weekend’s earthquake in Burma (Myanmar), we now have clear evidence that the gutting of the U.S. Agency for International Development has not only left that country worse off than it might be with American aid, but also that America itself is morally impoverished, its global leadership is in question, and its security is strategically at risk.
Despite the mistakes the United States has made around the globe over its lifetime – and in part because it often has acknowledged them, even if belatedly — when disaster strikes, the world looks to the United States, not just for its resources but for its leadership. For decades, the United States has been at the forefront of humanitarian response and disaster assistance, recognizing that such efforts are not just acts of generosity but vital tools of diplomacy and national security.
But in the wake of the March 28 earthquake in Burma, the United States has been largely absent, belatedly sending $2 million and a small emergency response team for an assessment. It’s a failure that carries not only profound moral consequences but also strategic costs that may create aftershocks for years to come. To add insult to injury, President Donald Trump, in announcing his tariffs this week, slapped a 44 percent tariff on Burma, deepening its economic and humanitarian crisis.
For decades, the United States has been the “indispensable nation” for the international community in times of crisis — a position that has, in turn, allowed it to both help those in need, living up to the values that have animated the nation since its founding, and also to assure that U.S. interests, along with American values, are well-served. Humanitarian aid was one of the few areas of assistance in which the United States had a comparable advantage vis-a-vis its adversaries.
Yet just 70 days or so into the Trump administration, the U.S. ability to respond — and to lead — is “in shambles,” as former USAID Assistant to the Administrator for Humanitarian Affairs Sarah Charles put it. The U.S. capacity to mobilize resources, coordinate international relief efforts, and set a moral example has saved countless lives in the past, but in Burma this week, that leadership is missing. The earthquake has left thousands dead and many more without shelter, food, or medical care. And all that is playing out in the midst of a civil war. The conditions are so bad that even Myanmar’s military, which long has rejected the international community’s calls to end the war against its own people, is pleading for assistance, though it’s a plea to take with a grain of salt given the reports that the junta continued to bomb its own people even after the earthquake struck until finally matching the unilateral ceasefires of the armed resistance with a temporary truce on April 2.
Scenes of Suffering
Aid workers have described horrific scenes of suffering, yet Washington’s response has been tepid at best. And in one of those twisted ironies of history — the sort that would get you thrown out of a college creative writing class — on the very day that the earthquake devastated Burma, USAID disaster response personnel in the region were receiving notices telling them they were fired.
The moral cost of this inaction is clear. Human suffering on this scale demands a response from those with the means to alleviate it. While local and regional actors have stepped in, their capacity is limited. The United States has the logistical power, financial resources, and diplomatic influence to make a difference. By failing to act, we send a message that American leadership is conditional, selective, and, in this case, absent.
Beyond the immediate humanitarian cost, the absence of U.S. leadership in Burma is a strategic blunder. Disaster response is not just about aid; it’s about influence. In past crises, U.S. humanitarian assistance has not only saved lives but also built goodwill, deepened alliances, and strengthened regional stability. Recall the U.S. response to the tsunami that swept across Indonesia and the Indian Ocean in 2005. In responding — immediately and unconditionally — we did good, and found that in doing good, we did well. The tsunami response turned around negative views of America in that part of the world following the invasions of Iraq and Afghanistan, and opened pathways for diplomatic engagement and partnership that paid dividends for years to come. In other words, it’s a vital tool for our national interests.
China, eager to expand its influence in Southeast Asia, has already moved into Burma to fill the vacuum left by American inaction. Pictures of relief workers in brightly branded “China Search and Rescue” and “China Aid” attire are all across the press (and maybe more importantly, on social media) in Burma and the region. Beijing’s relief efforts are not simply acts of charity; they are strategic investments. By stepping in where the United States is absent, China is positioning itself as the dominant regional power, further entrenching its influence in Burma’s politics, economy, and military affairs.
Washington’s absence also weakens its credibility among allies in the region. Nations such as Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines have long relied on U.S. leadership in times of crisis. If they see America retreating in Burma, where it had been so active in the past to support its nascent democracy before the war, these U.S. allies and partners will question whether they can count on Americans in their own moments of need or on crucial joint strategic issues, including the competition with China that the Trump administration claims is a priority.
Not Too Late
It is not too late for the United States to step up. A robust humanitarian response — led by USAID, in coordination with regional partners such as the Quad (a grouping of the United States, Australia, India, and Japan), or ASEAN (the 10-member Association of Southeast Asian Nations) — would demonstrate that American leadership is not in retreat.
Indeed, the administration’s belated recognition of the imperative to deploy emergency aid, logistical support, and financial resources to ensure that relief reaches those in need can be seen as an acknowledgment that the work of USAID isn’t “waste, fraud, and abuse,” as they’ve too often alleged even as they struggle for evidence, but that it actually serves the national interest. The United States supports people abroad in part so they do not have to be migrants fleeing to U.S. shores in the future. This response should be paired with diplomatic pressure on the Burmese junta to allow full humanitarian access and, ultimately, to end the war and return power to an elected civilian government.
Getting Burma right — both in terms of strategic context and in supporting the people of Burma in building a genuine, inclusive federal democracy — has long been an elusive goal for U.S. policymakers. And it remains a challenge. But there can be no question that the gutting of USAID programs, the lack of a robust response to the earthquake, and now, the imposition of tariffs, is what it looks like to get Burma wrong.
If Washington fails to act, the consequences will be long-lasting. The United States will have ceded both moral authority and strategic influence to adversaries who will not hesitate to use this moment to their advantage. In the end, America’s absence in Burma will not just be remembered as a failure to help those in desperate need; it will be seen as a retreat from the global stage, one that weakens both America’s values and its interests.
Musk has stated several times that he recognizes that DOGE will make mistakes, and that, when those mistakes are pointed out, DOGE will move fast to correct them. The earthquake in Burma has made clear the cost of DOGE’s error-prone attack on U.S. foreign assistance. The only question now is whether Trump, Secretary of State Marco Rubio, and Musk and his acolytes will recognize it and correct it. Or whether the costs will continue to compound. The Burma earthquake may be the first disaster that tests the Trump administration’s approach. But it surely won’t be the last.
Editor’s note: This piece is part of the Collection: Just Security’s Coverage of the Trump Administration’s Executive Actions