Vance Unleashes Pro-Life Revolution: Trump Team Cuts Off Billions to Abortion Giants

Paul Riverbank, 1/24/2026Vance's administration drives massive funding cuts and regulatory shifts, reshaping America's abortion battle.

From a makeshift stage muffled by cheers and the sound of megaphones, Vice President JD Vance’s steady voice cut through with promises his audience had waited decades to hear. “We’re going to start blocking every international NGO that performs or promotes abortion abroad from receiving a single dollar of U.S. money,” Vance declared, touting a newly expanded scope for the Mexico City Policy. The policy’s reach, the administration says, now stretches beyond global health to tens of billions in foreign aid—and it now covers American and international organizations advancing diversity, equity, and inclusion. That detail alone rippled through the crowd: for some, an overdue course correction; for others, a jarring shift in American global outreach.

The March for Life has always drawn a spectrum, from jubilant teenagers wrapped in school scarves to older activists who could tick off the landmark court cases from memory. But this year, the air carried a new tension. Many in the movement have pressed for more rapid results and were wary, even as legislative victories accumulated. “I understand there will inevitably be debates. I hear you,” Vance offered, nodding to the doubts that swirl even amongst allies.

In the past, skepticism might have slowed momentum. Instead, a string of policy decisions unfolded—sometimes abruptly, sometimes with legal entanglements that left everyone scrambling. Take, for example, the so-called “One Big Beautiful Bill,” passed early in the year, which swiftly blocked federal funding for any clinic associated with Planned Parenthood. Even backers described it as a “temporary” measure, perhaps hedging their bets, but by spring, the effects were concrete: more than fifty clinics had either shuttered entirely or stopped performing abortions, pro-life groups claimed, and 36 of those belonged to Planned Parenthood itself.

For Troy Newman, who heads Operation Rescue, it was “a gloriously bad year for Planned Parenthood, which means a banner year for the preborn.” The data sounded dramatic, but the actual fallout brought quieter moments of reckoning in places like Houston and New York, where major clinics closed almost overnight. Alexis McGill Johnson, Planned Parenthood’s president, called it a “targeted attack,” pointing out that nearly two-fifths of the group’s income had depended on public money.

The saga didn’t stop with funding cuts. When a federal appeals court sided with the government in withholding nearly $800 million from Planned Parenthood, staff and patients alike were abruptly left recalculating their options. Meanwhile, more subtle policy shifts rippled outward: NIH, under new leadership, ceased all support for research involving fetal tissue from abortions, and further restricted it from grants and contracts. The announcement came wrapped in the language of scientific progress—NIH Director Jay Bhattacharya promising “breakthrough technologies” reflecting the "values of the American people"—but for some researchers, it felt like the door closing on entire lines of inquiry.

Congress, sensing the moment, weighed in by passing fresh laws aimed squarely at educational institutions. Now, federally funded universities are required to notify pregnant students about carrying a pregnancy to term, not just about abortion access—a move hailed by some as expanding choice, critiqued by others as a nudge with political undertones.

Much of the new debate, of course, circles around the abortion pill, now the most widely used method nationwide. Pro-life advocates have seized on this front, pressing the Food and Drug Administration to bring back in-person doctor visits and older safety regulations for prescribing mifepristone. “The FDA should revoke the approval of mifepristone as an abortifacient,” Live Action’s Lila Rose insisted, pointing to a mismatch between reported adverse events and official data.

These concerns aren’t purely academic. Dr. George Delgado, who pioneered a controversial “reversal” protocol for the abortion pill, has spoken out about stories from the field: women, lacking ultrasounds, unaware of ectopic pregnancies. “Their tube ruptures, and they will die,” he warns, the gravity underscored by years in the ER. Others—like Ryan Anderson at the Ethics and Public Policy Center—argue that the FDA has understated risks and neglected critical follow-up care.

The issue comes into even sharper relief through the stories of those on the front lines. Mayra Rodriguez, once a director for Planned Parenthood, recounted calls from women in the middle of the night—distressed and unprepared for what medical abortion actually looked like. “It doesn’t look like a clot, it looks like a baby,” some told her, in those moments between alarm and grief.

Together, these policy reversals, funding shifts, and regulatory battles have stitched a new—and, in places, fraying—quilt for American reproductive policy. Supporters of the White House’s approach describe it as a long-awaited correction to decades of drift, while critics warn darkly of unintended harm to women’s health and autonomy. For now, the fight appears less reliant on courtroom drama and more dependent on federal agency decisions, clinics’ responses, and the untroubled determination of activists—both those who crowd the Mall each January and those who never leave the neighborhoods their clinics serve.

If anything is certain, it’s that the old battle lines have smudged, leaving both sides peering toward another winter—one in which nobody seems quite sure what the temperature will be when the sun rises again on Capitol Hill.

It was just past dawn on a chilled Friday in Washington, but the National Mall was already stirring—the kind of morning where you can see your breath and the low sun turns the Capitol’s steps gold. This year’s March for Life, number fifty-three if anyone’s been counting, arrived with the theme “Life is a Gift” and, somehow, the crowds seemed to carry that idea with the way they huddled together, signs hoisted at all angles, almost defiant against the wind.From a makeshift stage muffled by cheers and the sound of megaphones, Vice President JD Vance’s steady voice cut through with promises his audience had waited decades to hear. “We’re going to start blocking every international NGO that performs or promotes abortion abroad from receiving a single dollar of U.S. money,” Vance declared, touting a newly expanded scope for the Mexico City Policy. The policy’s reach, the administration says, now stretches beyond global health to tens of billions in foreign aid—and it now covers American and international organizations advancing diversity, equity, and inclusion. That detail alone rippled through the crowd: for some, an overdue course correction; for others, a jarring shift in American global outreach.The March for Life has always drawn a spectrum, from jubilant teenagers wrapped in school scarves to older activists who could tick off the landmark court cases from memory. But this year, the air carried a new tension. Many in the movement have pressed for more rapid results and were wary, even as legislative victories accumulated. “I understand there will inevitably be debates. I hear you,” Vance offered, nodding to the doubts that swirl even amongst allies.In the past, skepticism might have slowed momentum. Instead, a string of policy decisions unfolded—sometimes abruptly, sometimes with legal entanglements that left everyone scrambling. Take, for example, the so-called “One Big Beautiful Bill,” passed early in the year, which swiftly blocked federal funding for any clinic associated with Planned Parenthood. Even backers described it as a “temporary” measure, perhaps hedging their bets, but by spring, the effects were concrete: more than fifty clinics had either shuttered entirely or stopped performing abortions, pro-life groups claimed, and 36 of those belonged to Planned Parenthood itself.For Troy Newman, who heads Operation Rescue, it was “a gloriously bad year for Planned Parenthood, which means a banner year for the preborn.” The data sounded dramatic, but the actual fallout brought quieter moments of reckoning in places like Houston and New York, where major clinics closed almost overnight. Alexis McGill Johnson, Planned Parenthood’s president, called it a “targeted attack,” pointing out that nearly two-fifths of the group’s income had depended on public money.The saga didn’t stop with funding cuts. When a federal appeals court sided with the government in withholding nearly $800 million from Planned Parenthood, staff and patients alike were abruptly left recalculating their options. Meanwhile, more subtle policy shifts rippled outward: NIH, under new leadership, ceased all support for research involving fetal tissue from abortions, and further restricted it from grants and contracts. The announcement came wrapped in the language of scientific progress—NIH Director Jay Bhattacharya promising “breakthrough technologies” reflecting the "values of the American people"—but for some researchers, it felt like the door closing on entire lines of inquiry.Congress, sensing the moment, weighed in by passing fresh laws aimed squarely at educational institutions. Now, federally funded universities are required to notify pregnant students about carrying a pregnancy to term, not just about abortion access—a move hailed by some as expanding choice, critiqued by others as a nudge with political undertones.Much of the new debate, of course, circles around the abortion pill, now the most widely used method nationwide. Pro-life advocates have seized on this front, pressing the Food and Drug Administration to bring back in-person doctor visits and older safety regulations for prescribing mifepristone. “The FDA should revoke the approval of mifepristone as an abortifacient,” Live Action’s Lila Rose insisted, pointing to a mismatch between reported adverse events and official data.These concerns aren’t purely academic. Dr. George Delgado, who pioneered a controversial “reversal” protocol for the abortion pill, has spoken out about stories from the field: women, lacking ultrasounds, unaware of ectopic pregnancies. “Their tube ruptures, and they will die,” he warns, the gravity underscored by years in the ER. Others—like Ryan Anderson at the Ethics and Public Policy Center—argue that the FDA has understated risks and neglected critical follow-up care.The issue comes into even sharper relief through the stories of those on the front lines. Mayra Rodriguez, once a director for Planned Parenthood, recounted calls from women in the middle of the night—distressed and unprepared for what medical abortion actually looked like. “It doesn’t look like a clot, it looks like a baby,” some told her, in those moments between alarm and grief.Together, these policy reversals, funding shifts, and regulatory battles have stitched a new—and, in places, fraying—quilt for American reproductive policy. Supporters of the White House’s approach describe it as a long-awaited correction to decades of drift, while critics warn darkly of unintended harm to women’s health and autonomy. For now, the fight appears less reliant on courtroom drama and more dependent on federal agency decisions, clinics’ responses, and the untroubled determination of activists—both those who crowd the Mall each January and those who never leave the neighborhoods their clinics serve.If anything is certain, it’s that the old battle lines have smudged, leaving both sides peering toward another winter—one in which nobody seems quite sure what the temperature will be when the sun rises again on Capitol Hill.