Dan Rodricks: Holy season in a less charitable, less humane nation

At a banquet in Baltimore years ago, a man handed me a printout of a speech he wanted me to read. I found it to be an incisive reflection on America in the 20th Century — “the American Century” — and the part I remember best was the ending: “It’s what makes us not only the world’s richest and most powerful nation, but also the most humane and decent.”

Memory fails on the identity of the writer (or what we had for dinner), but the phrase stuck with me in a profound way. Wishful thinking maybe, but it’s how I wanted to think of my country — a global economic power that provides for our elderly, our poor and disabled while enjoying admiration for helping less fortunate nations and their people.

That last bit — foreign aid for suffering strangers in far off lands — constitutes the part of America that the long-forgotten speechwriter meant as “humane and decent.” It’s unwise (and unconstitutional) to religionize government, but a Christian might call it the most Christian part of our national priorities; a Jew might call it the tzedakah in our federal budget. 

I mention those two religions because it’s Holy Week for Christians and the week of Passover for Jews, a time for reflections, even if you’re not particularly reflective or observant, or even if you’re thoroughly finished with religion.

But, this spring, I wonder how any of us can reflect on the ancient stories — the inspiring life and lessons of Christ or the liberation of the Israelites from slavery — without noting the historically stunning conflict with our current reality. 

We have a presidential administration that has cut off foreign aid to some of the most desperate people in the world, alienated allies and subjected human beings to cruel abuse. 

Fundamentalist Christians praised and supported Donald Trump, but I can’t think of a president who has been less christian — small “c” — than this one. 

By small-c christian, I mean, in the most simplistic terms, anyone who keeps the Golden Rule at their core, anyone who is loving and charitable, who protects the weak and vulnerable, who welcomes the stranger and seeks communion with others. 

None of that is evident in the Trump administration.

One of the president’s first executive orders was to stop our refugee programs and end foreign aid that had been fully authorized by Congress through the U.S. Agency for International Development. That had immediate ramifications for people being served by several agencies with headquarters in Baltimore, including Catholic Relief Services and Global Refuge, formerly Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Service.

“There was an executive order suspending refugee resettlement and then a stop-work order, and then the termination of our contracts,” says Krish O’Mara Vignarajah, CEO of Global Refuge, an agency with more than 50 resettlement sites across the country. “It’s been incredibly difficult. Every day has felt like triage.”

Trump’s order caused the stranding of thousands of refugees — some from Afghanistan, for instance — who had gone through an extreme amount of vetting before being deemed eligible to enter the U.S.

“They had sold off their personal belongings,” Vignarajah says. “They had given up temporary housing because they had plane tickets in hand. Even for those approved refugees, it meant that their travel was canceled.”

Some Baltimore foundations — Abell, France-Merrick, Middendorf, Aaron & Lillie Straus, Leonard & Helen R. Stulman, Jacob & Hilda Blaustein— as well as St. David’s Church, the Episcopal congregation in Roland Park, made significant and timely donations to help Global Refuge continue its work assisting refugees with housing, employment, access to health care, enrolling their children in public schools and learning English.

And the federal courts have put a stop to some of the draconian measures taken by Trump’s billionaire supporter, Elon Musk. By court order, agencies like Global Refuge were paid for contracts in effect before Trump took office in January. 

But USAID has been gutted, with foreign aid stopped and thousands of employees laid off, even as political crises, ethnic violence and natural disasters create more refugees and hungry children.

And the Trump administration continues to take a torch to programs for refugees and immigrants. On April 11, the Department of Homeland Security said it intends to end temporary protections for more than 10,000 people from Afghanistan and Cameroon; they could be deported as early as May and June.

Commenting in The New York Times, Vignarajah called the action “unconscionable,” especially for Afghan women and girls: “Forcing them back to Taliban rule, where they face systemic oppression and gender-based violence, would be an utterly unconscionable stain on our nation’s reputation.”

This week brings news that the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops has decided to shut down its refugee resettlement efforts, some of the largest and longest-serving in the nation. In an op-ed in The Washington Post, Bishop Timothy P. Broglio, the president of the conference, blamed cuts by “the federal government,” but, oddly, never mentioned Trump and Musk.

But Trump and Musk are the reasons our federal budget and government is less charitable now, less christian with a small-c. They are the reasons this nation of ours seems less powerful, less humane and decent.