How Washington mastered the art of looking the other way

WASHINGTON — In what may be the federal government’s most impressive demonstration of institutional indifference since the invention of the bureaucratic hold button, the Biden administration has apparently perfected a novel approach to foreign aid oversight: don’t.

The formula is remarkably simple. Step one: dump billions of taxpayer dollars into one of the world’s most notoriously corrupt regions. Step two: ignore detailed warnings from someone actually trying to help. Step three: act surprised when it all goes sideways. Step four (optional): have a spokesperson later admit you knew it was a problem all along.

It’s efficiency, really—if your goal is to make money disappear.

The Man Washington Couldn’t Hear

 For nearly three years, Dr. Abdillahi Hashi Abib, a Somali lawmaker with the quaint notion that American taxpayers might appreciate knowing where their money goes, tried an experiment. Between February 2023 and July 2024, he sent 16 letters to the Biden administration. Not emails that could get lost in spam filters. Not tweets that could be ignored. Actual letters. With documentation. With specifics. With evidence.

He might as well have been sending messages in bottles.

These weren’t vague complaints about “concerns regarding financial practices” written in the carefully neutered language of diplomatic correspondence. Abib documented $2 billion in World Bank-managed projects rigged through predetermined bidding—corruption so systematic it practically came with instruction manuals. He identified a $370 million gap between what donors reported giving and what actually showed up in Somalia’s Treasury. He presented evidence that the Central Bank’s General Manager was moonlighting as an arms dealer, using official resources to purchase AK-47s on the black market.

You know, the kind of details that might interest, say, the Treasury Department. Or the State Department. Or literally anyone whose job involves the phrase “fiduciary responsibility.”

Deputy Secretary of the Treasury Wally Adeyemo was carbon-copied on three letters, including documentation of billions in World Bank-facilitated fraud. One can only imagine these letters provided excellent insulation for his inbox, stacked high enough to muffle any sound of alarm bells.

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Humanitarian Aid: Now With 60% Less Humanity

Perhaps the administration’s crowning achievement was its handling of food security aid. According to Abib’s allegations, approximately 60% of assistance managed by the World Food Program was systematically diverted.

Let that sink in for a moment. We’re talking about food for hungry children—children in one of the world’s hungriest places—being stolen at a rate that would make a Vegas casino blush. The Biden administration’s contribution to fighting world hunger, it turns out, was feeding a different kind of appetite: corruption.

But surely someone noticed? Surely alarm bells rang somewhere in the sprawling apparatus of federal oversight?

Well, yes. Eventually. A State Department spokesperson later acknowledged that the administration had “dumped billions of dollars into assistance to Somalia with few restrictions, leading to dozens of well-documented instances of aid diversion, theft and corruption.”

“Dumped billions.” “Few restrictions.” “Well-documented instances.”

It’s the kind of confession that might raise questions—like whether anyone in charge had actually read the job description. Or passed a basic civics class. Or possessed opposable thumbs capable of picking up a phone.

The Trump Card

What finally broke through Washington’s wall of strategic deafness? A change in administrations.

After nearly three years of writing letters into the void, Abib finally got his response—from the Trump administration. A Treasury spokesperson didn’t mince words: “Under President Trump, this administration is taking decisive action to clean up the rampant welfare fraud allowed by Joe Biden and Tim Walz.”

The new administration suspended aid to Somalia in January and began installing actual oversight mechanisms—the kind of revolutionary concepts like “checking where the money goes” and “verifying that food aid feeds people.”

Abib told reporters the State Department’s assessment was “the right thing to do.” Which is diplomatic-speak for “it’s about damn time.”

Black Holes and Taxpayer Dollars

A State Department spokesperson offered perhaps the most accidentally perfect metaphor for the whole debacle: “Somalia has long been a black hole of poorly overseen U.S. assistance.”

A black hole. A phenomenon from which nothing, not even light, can escape.

At least they’re self-aware. Though one might wonder: if you know something is a black hole, why do you keep throwing money into it? That’s not foreign policy—that’s performance art.

The World Bank, which managed much of this assistance, maintains it takes allegations seriously and follows “many risk management procedures.” If those procedures allow billions to vanish through rigged bidding and systematic corruption, one shudders to imagine what “not taking it seriously” would look like. Perhaps they’d just load cash onto pallets and airdrop it over Mogadishu with a note saying “please use responsibly.”

The Minnesota Connection

Buried in this mess is a particularly colorful detail: the Treasury Department’s reference to “Somali fraud rings” in connection with programs meant for “feeding hungry children, housing disabled seniors and providing services for children in need.”

The article suggests—with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer—that this might involve “probably left wing Minnesota politicians.” Because apparently when billions go missing in Somalia, the real scandal is in Minneapolis.

It’s like a mystery novel where the detective solves the bank robbery by arresting someone three states away who once drove past a bank.

One Senator vs. The Machine

To his credit, Senator James Risch, Chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, has been pushing legislation to hold international peace operations accountable for U.S. taxpayer funds. He’s aware of “credible allegations of diversion of humanitarian food aid” and has been taking action.

One senator. Out of one hundred. Taking action on billions in documented fraud.

The ratio speaks volumes.

The Bottom Line (No, Really This Time)

Here’s what happened: The Biden administration poured $3.6 billion into a system it knew—by its own later admission—was “a black hole of poorly overseen assistance.” A whistleblower sent 16 detailed letters documenting systematic fraud. Those letters were ignored for years. Aid meant for hungry children was diverted. Arms were purchased on the black market. Corruption flourished.

And the response was… silence.

Until it wasn’t. Until a new administration took office and decided that maybe, just maybe, American taxpayers deserved better than having their money vanish into a documented pit of corruption while officials perfected the art of not returning phone calls.

This isn’t a partisan talking point. It’s a case study in governmental negligence so profound it borders on parody. The kind of failure that would get any private citizen fired, investigated, and possibly prosecuted.

But in Washington? It’s just another day at the office. Another black hole. Another few billion that got away.

At least now we know: if you want the federal government to pay attention to fraud, don’t send letters. Change administrations. It’s more efficient.

The American people deserve accountability. They deserve to know how their government let this happen. But more importantly, they deserve a government that reads its mail.