The US administration assault on DEIA is an assault on the humanitarian principles of humanity and impartiality

We know that humanitarian responses are less effective when they don’t involve the participation of affected people, or don’t engage people in their own language.

We know that humanitarian responses that don’t take into account existing inequalities of gender or ethnicity end up making things worse.

We know that humanitarian responses that ignore the specific needs of the most marginalised people – invariably among those most severely affected by crises – leave them behind.

However, any effort to acknowledge or address these dynamics now finds itself squarely in the crosshairs of the new US administration’s obsessive, scorched-earth campaign to eliminate anything and everything related to Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Accessibility (DEIA).

DEIA is essential to principled humanitarian action

The recent order from the US Agency for International Development (USAID) to all of its partners to immediately stop work on billions of dollars of programming needlessly exacerbates the suffering of people in crisis-affected settings worldwide. Bundled into this was the demand that USAID’s partners also ‘cease all DEIA activities’, posing a direct challenge to the core principles of humanitarian action. Declaring that efforts to identify and address marginalisation in crises are now off limits is a demand that we abandon the principle of impartiality – that humanitarian assistance identifies and addresses the most urgent cases without discrimination. Insisting that we no longer focus on the specific needs of women, people with disabilities, or people with diverse sexual orientations, gender identities and expressions, and sex characteristics (SOGIESC) is a rejection of the principle of humanity, that human suffering is met with a compassionate, dignified response wherever we find it.

Even before this current attack on DEIA, humanitarian responses have struggled to reach certain marginalised population groups adequately. The recent and worsening funding situation in the sector will continue to push for prioritisation and ‘back to basics’ approaches. But these ‘back to basics’ approaches must not succumb to the temptation to ignore questions of equity and inclusivity in humanitarian assistance, services and protection. DEIA is not a nice-to-have add-on, or the niche obsession of a handful of activists – it is the essence of principled humanitarian action. It is not an option and cannot be compromised to access future funding.

If and when US funding flows again to the sector, humanitarian organisations may be faced with a serious ethical and moral conundrum. The humanitarian imperative to provide aid – and, most certainly, organisational survival and self-preservation – risks being used as an excuse to accept gender-ignorant, disability-excluding assistance and other discriminating conditions that will likely come with accessing any US funding. And yes, there is some rationale to do something rather than nothing. But instead of watering down our collective ethics and morals, we can also act coherently, defending both the humanitarian principles we commit to as professionals, and the ethics we uphold as human beings committed to solidarity with one and other. Acting and advocating together to support those that are continuously pushed behind is also a humanitarian imperative.

What can we do?

Prioritisation cannot throw the most marginalised and most at-risk under the bus. As humanitarians, we must not give up, give in or compromise on diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility. We’re all in different positions but we can all do something – though the weight must necessarily fall on those of us who are better insulated from the impact of the current cuts, and not left to marginalised people already struggling to protect themselves and their communities.

For some, this might involve forcefully defending the values of DEIA within their own organisations or spheres of work, calling out backsliding and standing in solidarity with colleagues and aid-programme participants who now find themselves in the firing line.

For others, it might involve foot-dragging, obfuscation, and throwing sand in the gears of newly hostile institutional environments.

For those in a position to do so, it will involve continuing to give space, support and funding to minority rights organisations and organisations run by and for marginalised population groups, making sure their voices are not drowned out.

And for non-US institutional donors and governments, it’s time to step up and show the way by maintaining support to gender-responsive programming and inclusion efforts, advocating for principled humanitarian action, and refusing to normalise efforts to dismantle them.

Véronique Barbelet is a Research Associate with the Humanitarian Policy Group at ODI Global. Her co-author is currently working at an organisation subject to USAID’s funding freeze. Due to a fear that expressing negative views of US policy in public may affect the organisation’s ability to restart its programming if this freeze is lifted, they have requested to remain anonymous.