What Did Donald Trump Do Today?
March 19, 2025 Recap
Donald Trump’s executive order, Achieving Efficiency Through State and Local Preparedness, presents a sweeping vision of emergency management reform rooted in the belief that states, local governments, and even individuals are better suited than the federal government to lead national preparedness efforts. While the order frames this decentralization as “commonsense” and efficient, it raises significant concerns about its ideological motivations and the potential erosion of cohesive national strategy. The assertion that preparedness is “most effectively owned and managed” at non-federal levels disregards the interconnected nature of modern threats such as cyberattacks, pandemics, and grid failures—crises that demand strong, coordinated federal leadership rather than fragmented, localized responses.
A central feature of the order is its aggressive effort to rewrite or reverse key policies implemented by previous administrations. By directing reviews of numerous executive orders and memoranda from the Biden and Obama years—especially those related to supply chain resilience, food and agriculture security, and emergency preparedness—Trump’s directive appears to prioritize political score-settling over evidence-based reform. The decision to abandon the “all-hazards” approach in favor of a “risk-informed” strategy sounds reasonable on its face, but without clear metrics or a framework for risk prioritization, it opens the door to selective, ideologically driven decision-making.
Perhaps most troubling is the explicit exclusion of any policies concerning “misinformation,” “disinformation,” or “cognitive infrastructure.” This carve-out, tied to Trump’s earlier executive order on “Restoring Freedom of Speech,” is a partisan maneuver that ignores the national security risks posed by coordinated information warfare and domestic radicalization. In doing so, the administration effectively declares such threats unworthy of inclusion in the national preparedness conversation—an omission that weakens the very resilience the order claims to bolster.
Despite its sweeping language, the executive order largely kicks action down the road. It sets a series of deadlines for strategies, reviews, and reports that extend months into the future, delaying immediate implementation and creating bureaucratic churn. These timelines, paired with vague mandates like “streamlining” and “modernizing,” risk making the order more performative than productive—especially in an election year where continuity of leadership is uncertain.
Finally, while the order critiques the current system as “overlapping” and “overbroad,” it offers little in the way of specific structural reform. By promising improved communication and understanding between the federal government and local actors, it substitutes rhetorical assurances for concrete policy changes. In short, this executive order serves more as a political statement than a substantive roadmap for national resilience. It reduces the federal role at a time when centralized coordination is critical, and it undermines preparedness by inserting partisan ideology into what should be a nonpartisan mission to safeguard the nation.
President Trump’s executive order, “Removing Discrimination and Discriminatory Equity Ideology From the Foreign Service,” is a politically charged and ideologically aggressive directive that seeks to dismantle diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility (DEIA) efforts under the false banner of restoring “merit-based” governance. Rather than addressing any legitimate unfairness in federal hiring, the order constructs a strawman argument by recasting equity-focused policies as inherently discriminatory. It cynically rebrands long-standing efforts to address systemic bias and promote representative leadership as unconstitutional conduct—without offering substantive evidence or examples to justify such a sweeping claim. In doing so, it substitutes ideological grievance for reasoned governance, targeting DEIA not as a flawed tool needing reform but as a malignant ideology to be eradicated.
The order’s most damaging provision is its directive to strip DEIA from the Foreign Service’s promotion and tenure criteria, effectively erasing any institutional incentive to cultivate diverse leadership or cultural fluency—both vital in global diplomacy. By eliminating the “Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Accessibility” core precept from evaluations, the administration signals that these values are no longer considered assets but liabilities. This is not a neutral administrative tweak; it is a calculated reversal that prioritizes ideological purity over effectiveness, and it could severely hinder the State Department’s ability to reflect and engage with the diverse world in which it operates.
More troubling is the order’s punitive posture. It empowers agency heads to investigate and potentially discipline employees for promoting what it vaguely labels “discriminatory equity ideology.” This term is never clearly defined in the order itself, relying instead on referencing a separate executive order—an intentionally opaque move that invites arbitrary enforcement. Such ambiguity creates a dangerous precedent: federal employees could now face professional consequences not for discriminatory behavior but for advocating inclusion, attending DEIA training, or supporting recruitment efforts aimed at correcting historical imbalances. This weaponization of executive authority against an imagined ideological enemy resembles the tactics of authoritarian governance more than the deliberative processes of a functioning democracy.
The order claims to uphold equal opportunity, but its substance suggests the opposite. It conflates the existence of race- and gender-conscious policies with discriminatory intent, ignoring the deep-rooted inequities those policies are designed to mitigate. It also promotes a narrow and ahistorical understanding of meritocracy—one that disregards how access, privilege, and structural bias shape opportunity in the first place. Rather than leveling the playing field, this order reinforces existing hierarchies and calls it fairness.
Ultimately, this executive order is less about civil rights and more about signaling allegiance to the anti-DEI backlash that animates much of the contemporary right-wing agenda. It is performative, punitive, and regressive—more interested in erasing the language of equity than in addressing actual discrimination. It risks politicizing the Foreign Service, marginalizing underrepresented voices, and diminishing America’s credibility abroad.
The statement from Secretary Marco Rubio and National Security Advisor Michael Waltz regarding President Trump’s call with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy is less a diplomatic briefing and more a political narrative crafted to elevate Trump’s image as a global peacemaker. The language is notably effusive, with repeated references to Trump’s “fantastic” leadership and central role in pushing for peace. This overpersonalization of a complex international crisis diminishes diplomacy's multilateral nature and casts Trump as the sole architect of progress. While acknowledging his involvement is appropriate, framing the entire advancement of peace efforts around his persona comes off as more campaign rhetoric than credible foreign policy communication.
The statement also raises red flags, suggesting that American ownership of Ukrainian nuclear power plants would be the “best protection” for energy infrastructure. Such a proposal carries major implications for Ukrainian sovereignty and risks being perceived as opportunistic rather than supportive. Equally troubling is the vague mention of Trump’s call with Vladimir Putin. The lack of transparency surrounding the content of that conversation, coupled with no indication of prior Ukrainian input, calls into question the diplomatic integrity of such unilateral engagement with an adversary.
Further, the announcement of a “partial ceasefire against energy” with future plans to extend it to the Black Sea is intriguing but poorly defined. The term itself is ambiguous—what exactly constitutes a ceasefire limited to “energy”? The plan to continue technical discussions in Saudi Arabia adds another layer of complexity and geopolitical ambiguity, given Saudi Arabia’s limited stake in the conflict.
Humanitarian topics, including the exchange of POWs and the plight of abducted Ukrainian children, are only briefly mentioned toward the end of the statement. Their placement feels almost like an afterthought despite their emotional and diplomatic importance. Meanwhile, the statement's tone is overwhelmingly optimistic yet lacking in substantive detail. There are no concrete timelines, measurable goals, or verifiable outcomes, only vague references to technical work and ongoing talks.
The statement is a strategic effort to portray Trump as the driving force behind peace in Ukraine, but it falls short of offering meaningful insight or transparency. It glosses over complex issues, introduces questionable policy suggestions, and fails to outline a convincing path to peace. While it may be effective as political messaging, it lacks both rigor and credibility as a serious diplomatic document.
White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt held a briefing that exemplified the Trump administration’s familiar style of aggressive, hyper-partisan messaging, prioritizing political narrative over policy clarity. The session opened with the dramatic return of astronauts Butch Wilmore and Suni Williams, which Leavitt quickly turned into a partisan jab, blaming the Biden administration for their extended stay in space. She credited their return to President Trump and Elon Musk, offering no concrete evidence beyond anecdotal praise and overlooking the complex logistics of space missions coordinated by NASA and international partners. It set the tone for a briefing more concerned with scoring political points than communicating factual, actionable information.
Leavitt’s discussion of Ukraine and Russia further amplified this pattern. She claimed that under President Trump’s leadership, the world had “never been closer to peace,” citing phone calls with Vladimir Putin and Volodymyr Zelensky as breakthroughs. However, the readouts she provided were heavy on optimism and light on verification. There was little mention of long-term diplomatic strategy, third-party verification, or the geopolitical realities of brokering peace in an active war zone. The administration appeared to oversell these developments as a monumental achievement despite negotiations and partial ceasefires often being fragile and reversible.
In a move seemingly intended to appease conspiracy-driven segments of the Trump base, Leavitt touted the release of nearly 880,000 pages of previously classified JFK assassination documents. While transparency is generally welcome, this announcement felt like a calculated distraction from more pressing domestic concerns, especially given its lack of immediate relevance to current governance. Similarly, economic claims made during the briefing—such as a dramatic manufacturing rebound and plunging gas prices—were presented without data context, independent analysis, or any acknowledgment of broader market conditions. These announcements were more about bolstering Trump’s economic image than delivering credible economic assessments.
Immigration policy took center stage, with Leavitt touting a sweeping “mass deportation campaign” under the Alien Enemies Act. She highlighted multiple ICE arrests with graphic descriptions of criminal offenses, using these examples to defend controversial deportation flights and attacks on federal judges. Her tone was alarmist and dehumanizing, offering no nuance about immigration law, due process, or humanitarian concerns. Leavitt’s open condemnation of judges as “partisan activists” who deserve impeachment signaled a dangerous willingness to undermine judicial independence. The administration’s legal justifications remained vague and politically charged, leaning more on emotional appeal and vilification than constitutional reasoning.
Further chaos was evident in her account of events at the U.S. Institute of Peace, where she accused career civil servants of “barricading themselves” in defiance of Trump appointees. This sensationalized account painted federal employees as rogue resisters while dismissing the possibility of legitimate institutional pushback against abrupt or unlawful personnel changes. Meanwhile, Leavitt’s framing of the judiciary as an obstacle to Trump’s agenda reflected a consistent pattern of grievance politics, where any institutional resistance is portrayed as sabotage. Statistics she cited—such as 92% of injunctions against Trump coming from Democrat-appointed judges—were delivered without sources or context, suggesting a narrative built for outrage rather than truth.
Throughout the briefing, Leavitt defended questionable executive overreach, including plans to deport alleged foreign terrorists and designate Venezuelan gang members as national security threats. When pressed on legal concerns, she insisted the administration was within its rights and attacked critics as soft on crime or unpatriotic. These exchanges underscored a growing authoritarian impulse to conflate legal scrutiny with disloyalty. Even on issues like Tesla vehicle arson or online doxing, Leavitt’s responses focused more on partisan blame and media condemnation than solutions or law enforcement strategies.
Leavitt’s briefing was less an update on national policy and more a campaign-style performance designed to project strength, dominate headlines, and perpetuate a culture war narrative. Her tone was combative, her assertions often lacked evidence, and her framing of institutional resistance as a coordinated conspiracy painted an alarming picture of governance.
The Trump administration has suspended about $175 million in federal funding to the University of Pennsylvania, citing issues related to transgender athlete Lia Thomas, who swam for the school and won a Division I title in 2022.
This funding freeze follows President Trump’s February 5 executive order, which bans transgender athletes from competing in girls’ and women’s sports and redefines Title IX protections to apply strictly based on sex assigned at birth. The next day, the Education Department launched a civil rights investigation into Penn’s swimming program. However, the funding suspension stems from a separate federal review and affects discretionary funds from the Defense and Health and Human Services Departments.
Penn stated that it has not been officially notified of any funding suspension and emphasized its compliance with NCAA and Ivy League policies.
Meanwhile, the NCAA has shifted its policy, ending sport-by-sport evaluations and now only allowing athletes assigned female genders at birth to compete in women’s sports, aligning more closely with Trump’s order.
Other institutions, including San Jose State University and the Massachusetts Interscholastic Athletic Association, are also under federal review for similar reasons.
U.S. District Judge James Boasberg warned the Trump administration it could face consequences if it violated his temporary order halting the deportation of hundreds of Venezuelan migrants. The order, issued over the weekend, blocked deportations based on the 1798 Alien Enemies Act. Despite this, three planes with deportees landed in El Salvador—two left before the written order was docketed, and one departed afterward.
Boasberg questioned whether the administration deliberately violated his order and extended the deadline for the government to respond. He rejected the administration’s claim that his inquiry was an unjustified overreach, stressing it was necessary to determine compliance.
The administration defended its actions, suggesting national security concerns and invoking executive authority. Boasberg resisted, noting that Secretary of State Marco Rubio had already publicly shared details, undermining the secrecy claim.
Former President Trump called for Boasberg’s impeachment, labeling him a "troublemaker." Chief Justice John Roberts rebuked Trump, stating that appeals—not impeachment—are the proper way to challenge judicial decisions.
Boasberg emphasized he was not on a "judicial fishing expedition" but trying to determine if his orders were defied. He has not specified what penalties might be imposed if the administration is found in contempt.
Jeremy Lewin, a senior official from Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), has been appointed to a top leadership position at the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), further cementing DOGE’s growing influence in the federal government under the Trump administration. Lewin, who played a key role in DOGE’s efforts to shrink the federal workforce and cut government programs, will now serve as USAID’s deputy administrator for policy and programs and its chief operating officer. The appointment was announced in an internal email from Pete Marocco, a Trump appointee and former deputy head of USAID, who also revealed he will now serve as the State Department’s director of foreign assistance. DOGE’s involvement in dismantling federal agencies has been highly controversial, drawing criticism for its aggressive cuts and lack of oversight while earning praise from those who see it as a long-overdue government streamlining.
This leadership shake-up at USAID comes amid legal turmoil. On the same day Lewin’s appointment was announced, a federal judge ruled that Musk and DOGE likely lacked the constitutional authority to oversee the shutdown of foreign assistance programs, terminate staff, and eliminate contracts at State and USAID. The judge indefinitely blocked DOGE from making further cuts, siding with USAID employees and contractors who sued, arguing that Musk and his team were exercising powers reserved for elected or Senate-confirmed officials. While the ruling halts DOGE’s direct involvement, it leaves room for similar actions to proceed if carried out by properly appointed officials like Lewin.
Despite this legal blow, the Trump administration continues to formalize DOGE’s role across agencies. In February, DOGE-affiliated official Tom Krause was given assistant secretary-level responsibilities at the Treasury Department, raising concerns over his access to sensitive financial systems. This week, Kenneth Jackson, another DOGE associate, was named USAID’s chief financial officer and administrator for management and resources. He was also recently appointed acting president of the U.S. Institute for Peace. These moves signal that, regardless of legal challenges or public backlash, the administration remains committed to embedding DOGE personnel throughout the federal government to execute its agenda of radical government downsizing.