They gathered on screens, not a stage: two former presidents and a rock star staring into webcams at shell-shocked civil servants. USAID, born in the optimism of the Kennedy era, was being folded into a State Department suddenly recast as an instrument of “national interest” first, last, always. Bush clung to numbers that sounded like a plea—25 million lives saved—as if statistics could outshout a closure order. Obama spoke to the staff as if they were combat veterans returning from a war no one at home had followed.
Outside that virtual room, the narrative was cleaner, harsher: DOGE, Elon Musk, and Trump’s ledger of “waste”—scholarships in Burma, LGBTQ programs in Lesotho, empowerment funds in Latin America—reduced to punchlines at a rally. Inside, Bono’s line hung in the silence: “They called you crooks. When you were the best of us.” The agency disappeared with a bureaucratic memo; the grief did not.
