The Cost of Retreat When Aid Is Withdrawn

Let’s be honest. This year has been brutal, and the challenges we face are only getting harder. Our rights are under attack, human rights defenders are being targeted, and disinformation campaigns are spreading faster than ever. And, at the very moment these threats are rising, the funding our community relies on is disappearing. While Kaleidoscope Trust might be in some ways more sheltered than many of our partners, we are just as vulnerable to these existential threats.

Our work has taken us to new heights this year and we have a bold strategy for the future. But we cannot get through hard times fueled by hope alone. Financial resources are vital to supporting the movement, and right now, those resources are vanishing just when they are needed most. 

We know that UK foreign aid is going to be cut further, and we’re bracing ourselves for LGBTI+ funding to be disproportionately affected – just two years into what was meant to be a 5-year commitment.

We had every reason to believe that the £40 million pledged under the previous UK government was secure and would be honoured. That pledge was a landmark moment: a clear, public declaration of the UK’s commitment to global LGBTI+ rights, and something we should all be enormously proud of. Many in our movement have planned work around that five-year funding horizon, building programmes, supporting communities, and scaling initiatives with confidence and success. 

If the final two years of that funding are now withdrawn, it is more than just a financial setback. It is a breach of trust, a withdrawal of solidarity, and a blow to the lifeline that protects LGBTI+ people worldwide. Beyond the money itself, it would send a signal that the rights and lives of marginalised people are negotiable.

For the sake of £16m, the UK government should not jeopardise its strong reputation as an LGBTI+ ally.

The timing could not be more damaging because illiberal forces are not waiting. They are moving quickly, strategically, and often with significant financial backing – their impact, while deeply felt within our community, is destructive to the very fabric of society. And yet, despite the very real threats we now face, our movement is being asked to weather raging storms with fewer resources. 

The gap between what communities need and what organisations are funded to deliver is widening. This has consequences. 

We’ve seen services close, advocacy stall, and safety nets fray in many of the countries we’ve worked in. It’s been heartbreaking to see hard-fought progress be lost so quickly.

This is why funding matters. Not in the abstract, not as a line on a spreadsheet, but as the quiet engine that keeps our work moving. 

The truth is simple: resilience cannot operate on goodwill alone. Community support, legal assistance, emergency response, movement-building, leadership development, organisational strengthening, advocacy, and regional coordination are all important – now more so than ever. But they all require reliable investment. 

Every campaign, every convening, every safehouse, every rapid response intervention depends on the financial commitment of those who believe in this work.

But let’s be clear: funders are not just pocketbooks. Every contribution is a statement underpinned by an action that demonstrates that the work we do matters. Because our funders are not passive supporters; they are collaborators, strategists, and defenders. They give us the freedom to act boldly, support the infrastructure to respond rapidly, and fuel the confidence to resist retreat.

Some of the most transformative steps in our movement’s history began with small grants, local initiatives, and donors – many from within the community itself – who believed that even modest investment could create change. And they were right. A single contribution can determine whether a community support programme exists or disappears; whether a marginalised voice is amplified or silenced; whether an organisation survives the year or closes its doors. 

The reduction of international aid from many key governments this year, including the US, UK, and Canada, has left a vacuum that cannot be filled by sheer force of will – though we have this in spades. And that’s because funding is not simply a financial transaction; it is a declaration that LGBTI+ people are not optional. That our safety, dignity, and rights are non-negotiable. 

When we invest in activists, we invest in stability. When we fund community organisations, we build the infrastructure of hope. When we provide resources, we create momentum that cannot be easily overcome.

So I’m going to be direct and open with you all. Now more than ever is the time to step forward. To give boldly where others have stepped back.

Hope alone won’t carry us. But hope backed by support and action will.