Venezuela's earthquake and the USAID reckoning

Twin earthquakes of magnitude 7.2 and 7.5 struck northern Venezuela within one minute of each other last Wednesday evening, killing at least 1,430 people, injuring 3,200, and leaving approximately 68,900 unaccounted for as of June 27. The hardest-hit areas include La Guaira and Caraballeda, coastal communities where buildings were flattened. The UN Development Programme has issued a preliminary damage estimate of $6.7 billion — approximately six percent of Venezuela’s GDP — and noted that figure does not include wider economic disruption. Simón Bolívar International Airport in Caracas was badly damaged, stranding international search teams. More than 14,000 military and police personnel have been deployed. The US has sent two eighty-person search teams and a Navy transport ship, and international rescue workers from the Netherlands, Turkey, the UK, Mexico, Brazil, El Salvador, and France have arrived or are en route. The Guardian’s reporting frames the disaster as a direct test of the Trump administration’s new western hemisphere policy — specifically, whether emergency response can function with USAID hollowed out.

The received wisdom

The humanitarian framing is urgent and warranted: 1,400 dead, tens of thousands unaccounted for, a country already economically shattered before the earthquakes, now facing $6.7 billion in damages. The international community has mobilised with genuine speed. The US response — two large search teams, a Navy ship, coordination of military flights for rescue workers and mobile hospitals — is more substantial than the administration’s critics might have predicted. The specific concern about USAID, on the mainstream reading, is that the agency’s gutting in early 2025 eliminated much of the pre-positioned humanitarian capacity, local knowledge, and partnership networks that make rapid disaster response possible. Aid workers from other countries have noted that the stranded British charity Serve On, stuck at Madrid airport for over 24 hours because of damaged connecting infrastructure, is emblematic of the logistical complexity that USAID’s local presence was designed to navigate. The implicit argument is that ideological cost-cutting in foreign aid has made the US slower and less effective in a crisis where speed means lives.

This framing is honest and the factual core is not in dispute.

A different read

But the Venezuela case is more complicated than the standard USAID narrative allows, for reasons that go beyond partisan defence of the Trump administration. Start with the underlying political context. Venezuela’s Maduro government — or rather, the interim government of Delcy Rodríguez — had systematically blocked or complicated US humanitarian access for years before USAID’s restructuring. The authoritarian state’s control over incoming aid, its political use of disaster relief as a tool of patronage, and its historic hostility to independent NGO operations in the country were well-documented problems that USAID navigated with increasing difficulty even before 2025. The question of whether more USAID funding would have translated into meaningfully faster relief on the ground in a country whose government regards aid transparency as a political threat is genuinely contestable.

The more serious and traceable problem is institutional capacity. USAID’s regional disaster response infrastructure — the pre-positioned supplies, the standing contracts with logistics firms, the relationships with local partners who know the terrain and the bureaucracy — does not reconstitute itself quickly. The US State Department spokesperson Jeremy Lewin’s comment that “the priority is to get the search and rescue teams and the medical professionals and others to them as quickly as possible” is entirely correct, and the US is doing it. But the operational speed of that response, compared to what might have been possible three years ago, is a legitimate question that deserves honest evaluation rather than either partisan cherry-picking or institutional defensiveness.

There is a broader pattern here that runs across the Trump administration’s foreign policy restructuring. The theory of the case — that soft-power institutions like USAID had metastasised into vehicles for progressive ideology rather than strategic national interest — has some legitimate empirical support. There were real examples of USAID programmes that prioritised ideological content over developmental effectiveness. But the correction of those excesses was pursued with the institutional finesse of a wrecking ball rather than a scalpel. The result is that the US enters a major hemispheric disaster with a degraded rapid-response capability in a region where it is competing for influence with China, which has its own disaster response and infrastructure investment tools and seven Chinese nationals among the confirmed dead.

Venezuela is also geopolitically significant in ways that compound the stakes. It sits between Colombia — where a fragile security situation remains — and the Caribbean, and the population displacement effects of a prolonged recovery crisis, layered on top of the existing Venezuelan migration pattern that has sent millions across the region since 2015, could reverberate through US immigration politics within months. The Trump administration’s instinct to cut foreign aid as a budget measure runs directly against its stated goal of reducing irregular migration from the western hemisphere. You cannot simultaneously defund the conditions that produce migration and then be surprised when people migrate.

What to watch

The death toll’s trajectory over the next ten days will determine the scale of international attention. Watch whether the Maduro-adjacent government allows independent damage assessment that would unlock faster international reconstruction financing — the $6.7 billion UN estimate needs granular validation to mobilise multilateral lending. Watch also whether this disaster becomes a forcing function for any policy rethink on USAID operational capacity in the western hemisphere, or whether it is simply absorbed as one more crisis and forgotten by the weekly news cycle.

— J