Pope Francis said, “Heal the Wounds.”

Trump's America is doing the opposite.

The U.S. human rights report has served as a global benchmark for decades, naming abusers, defending the oppressed, and documenting uncomfortable truths. Now, it's being rewritten. Not to reflect reality but to protect a narrative. Key parts of the report, once dedicated to documenting systemic abuses, are being quietly erased before its public release. This isn't just bureaucratic editing; it's a calculated effort to reshape the moral compass of U.S. foreign policy. And it marks a dangerous turning point: we're no longer documenting abuses. We're burying them. This isn't some oversight. It's being done intentionally, and it reflects where we are right now under Trump's second term.

As the lead for the United Nations and Africa policy in Vice President Pence's office during Trump's first term, I witnessed firsthand how diplomatic priorities shift when no one's looking. What we're seeing now isn't theoretical—it's the logical endpoint of patterns I observed inside the first Trump White House. What's most alarming is that the same power brokers from the first term are now entrenched, operating with fewer constraints and far more experience in how to dismantle institutional guardrails. While Secretary of State Marco Rubio and Department of Homeland Security (DHS) Secretary Kristi Noem are the public faces of this administration's foreign policy and national security, the decisions still flow from the same inner circle I watched behind closed doors. The faces may have changed, but the hands pulling the levers remain the same.

We used to be the country that called out these abuses when they happened elsewhere. We used to stand up for people imprisoned for their political beliefs or for journalists silenced by their governments—people like Alexei Navalny in Russia, Mohamed Soltan in Egypt, or the Cuban journalists arrested during the 2003 "Black Spring." The U.S. once viewed it as our responsibility to defend political dissidents against dictators. Now? We're editing those very abuses out of our annual report. Why? Because we're now doing them too.

The Evidence: What's Being Erased

Let's walk through some facts.

Under Secretary Marco Rubio's leadership, the State Department has issued explicit instructions to strip out crucial details from its annual human rights reports, including references to prison conditions, political corruption, suppression of protests, violence against LGBTQ+ people, and the weakening of democratic checks and balances abroad. Press freedom? Political expression? Sanitized. These aren't just omissions; they're strategic erasures. The goal? To align the reports with the administration's political agenda and recent executive orders. 

When the U.S. government scrubs references to protest suppression from its own reports, we have to ask: is this just about what we say to the world, or is this about what comes next here at home? If we stop naming suppression abroad, what happens when Americans are the ones in the streets? This isn’t just bureaucratic. It’s a warning.

This quiet but profound redefinition of human rights, emphasizing "economic freedom" and religious liberty while ignoring state violence, censorship, and systemic discrimination, isn't just a shift in priorities. It's a message to the world: we no longer consider defending human dignity universal. We see it as optional.

And some omissions aren't just disturbing—they're damning.

The Trump administration recently negotiated the transfer of immigrants from the U.S. into El Salvador's notorious prison system despite well-documented histories of abuse and extrajudicial killings inside those facilities. Yet, the entire section on prison conditions has been erased in a draft of the forthcoming State Department report on El Salvador. The only remnants? A buried reference to prison deaths under "extrajudicial killings" and a vague mention of torture by guards. Let that sink in: we're outsourcing immigration enforcement to regimes known for torture, and deleting the evidence.

The report for Hungary, circulated internally as the model template for all country reports, had the entire “Corruption in Government” section struck out. Let’s not forget: Trump has openly praised Hungary’s authoritarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán as “a great man.” This is what happens when the U.S. government stops reporting on human rights and starts protecting the abusers we now call allies.

At the same time, the administration is still issuing statements condemning other countries. Just this week, the U.S. imposed visa restrictions on over 250 Nicaraguan officials for human rights violations. Having seen Stephen Miller in action firsthand, I’m confident these restrictions are about more than just the violations. And yet, we’ve pulled out of the United Nations Human Rights Council, again.

Let’s not pretend this is just about how we present ourselves to the rest of the world. While the State Department is hard at work scrubbing evidence of human rights abuses from reports aimed at foreign regimes, DHS has quietly dismantled the very office responsible for protecting the civil rights and civil liberties of the American people. That office once served as a check within DHS, monitoring racial profiling, religious discrimination, and abusive immigration enforcement. Its elimination isn't an isolated bureaucratic decision. It's part of the same authoritarian strategy: erase the documentation, dismantle the protections, and leave the public in the dark. Just like the edits to the human rights report and the restructuring of the State Department, this is part of the same strategic arc: dismantle accountability, concentrate loyalty, and erase protections, both at home and abroad.

Let's be real: the United States can't claim the moral high ground on human rights when we're actively undermining them at home.

The Strategy: Concentration of Power

These report edits aren't happening in a vacuum. They're just one piece of a much broader plan that's now coming into full view. While the public debates what's being removed from a report, behind the scenes, the Trump administration is preparing something even more sweeping: an executive order that would gut the very institutions responsible for human rights, diplomacy, and democratic engagement. The goal isn't just to rewrite a report, it's to rewrite the entire role the United States plays in the world. And that starts with hollowing out the State Department itself.

A leaked draft executive order, reported by The New York Times, outlines a sweeping plan to dismantle the State Department itself. Among the proposed changes:

• Eliminating the Bureau of African Affairs and replacing it with a "special envoy" focused primarily on "strategic extraction of resources" and counterterrorism—not diplomacy or development.

• Shutting down embassies and consulates across sub-Saharan Africa by October 1.

• Dissolving the bureaus for democracy, human rights, refugees, and migration.

• Terminating the State Department's climate envoy and cutting off its work on global climate diplomacy.

• Ending Fulbright scholarships unless tied to national security fields.

• Killing off recruitment pipelines like the Rangel and Pickering Fellowships, which gave underrepresented students, including those from historically black colleges and universities, historically a pathway into diplomatic careers.

The plan would eliminate the foreign service exam, a nonpartisan, merit-based entry point for diplomats, and instead base hiring on whether applicants' views "align with the president's foreign policy vision." Ask yourself: what does it mean when defending Ukraine’s sovereignty could get you sidelined—while admiring Putin’s tactics gets you promoted? That’s not diplomacy. That’s complicity.

This isn't restructuring. It's a purge.

A department once staffed with experts dedicated to global stability and democratic values is being replaced by political loyalists. The Foreign Service, USAID, and public diplomacy programs are being gutted. A new "Undersecretary for Transnational Threat Elimination" will take their place, focused not on peacebuilding but on control. The message couldn't be clearer: diplomacy is dead. Human rights are irrelevant. Loyalty is everything.

Why This Matters

Because human rights violations don't happen in a vacuum. They start with a slow erosion of norms. With the belief that "it can't happen here." But it is happening here. This isn't just about institutions. It's about people. It's about whether we still believe in justice, not just for ourselves, but for those without power, without a microphone, without protection.

However, even as the Trump Regime tries to erase decades of work, they haven't succeeded…yet.

There are still career diplomats fighting from within. Whistleblowers risking their futures across government agencies. Human rights lawyers holding the line. Activists refusing to be silenced. And millions of Americans, maybe you reading this, who still believe in what this country should stand for. I've worked in the rooms where policies are made. I've seen what quiet courage looks like. I've seen people speak truth to power even when the cost is high. That still exists. That still matters. And it's worth protecting.

A Legacy to Remember: Moral Leadership in Dark Times

As we reckon with what's being torn down in our own country, the world also mourns the passing of Pope Francis, who dedicated his life to the very values we're watching erode. His example stands in stark contrast to the leadership we're witnessing today.

He wasn't perfect, but his legacy is one of profound moral clarity. He stood with the poor, the refugees, and the outcasts. He spoke boldly against "the globalization of indifference." He reminded us that caring for people, especially the most vulnerable, is not a political act. It is a moral imperative.

Pope Francis came from the Jesuit order, a Catholic tradition known for its intellectual rigor, global outreach, and deep commitment to social justice. Jesuits have long championed the rights of the poor, advocated for peace, and taken bold stands on environmental stewardship and human dignity. As someone raised in a conservative Catholic household, and who has evolved in my views over time, I found great comfort and inspiration in his voice. He wasn't afraid to speak uncomfortable truths, to call out greed, exclusion, and indifference. I will miss him tremendously.

At a time when leaders build walls, Pope Francis built bridges. When powerful men opted for silence, he demanded justice. And when others clung to power, he chose humility.

The Path Forward

To the International Community: Don't give us a pass.

Don't assume the United States will hold the line. Question us. Pressure us. Support the American voices resisting from within. We need you now more than ever to call out the backsliding, and to keep fighting for global human rights standards, with or without U.S. leadership.

For Those of Us at Home:

These changes, from edited reports to dismantled departments, aren't isolated incidents. They form a coherent strategy to concentrate power, eliminate accountability, and redefine America's role in the world. What begins with erasing uncomfortable truths from reports ends with erasing rights themselves.

For those of us in the U.S., yes, it's getting darker by the day. But this isn't the end. Our values don't disappear just because they've been erased from a report. They live in us, in how we show up, in what we defend, in who we choose to be.

Pope Francis once said that the first thing we must do is stop the bleeding. "Heal the wounds," he told the church. His message was clear: stop leading with doctrine or rules. Start with mercy.

That's where we begin, too—by refusing to let the truth disappear.

-Olivia