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Editorial: Two Wings, One Ugly Bird

Updated: Mar 28

How the CIA Has Covertly Run Both Political Parties Since the Church Committee




Picture this: two wings of the same diseased bird, flapping maniacally in opposite directions, yet somehow keeping the whole beast aloft. That’s the Democratic and Republican parties—or so the saying goes. But what if the bird itself is just a puppet, and a shadowy agency holds the strings with a three-letter name we all know too well?


Welcome to the world of the CIA and its various "cut-outs," the National Democratic Institute (NDI) and the International Republican Institute (IRI)—two outfits that sound like noble champions of democracy, but might just be the gears in a machine designed to control the game, no matter who’s sitting in the White House.


[A "cut-out" is a third-party contractor, subsidiary, or shell company used to handle sensitive tasks (e.g., payments, negotiations) so the main organization avoids direct association. For example, a corporation might use a cut-out firm to conduct dealings in a high-risk region, keeping the parent company’s name off the paperwork.]


For decades, whispers have circulated about the CIA’s meddling in foreign elections—toppling governments and propping up pro-US dictators, all under the guise of "spreading freedom" or “defending democracy.” But what if the real story isn’t just overseas? What if the same playbook has been running right here at home, shaping the very political parties we vote for?


The NDI and IRI aren’t just tools for foreign regime change—they’re the CIA’s way of keeping America’s political class on a leash, Democrat and Republican alike.


In this article, we’ll dive into how these so-called democracy promoters—funded by your tax dollars through the National Endowment for Democracy (NED)—turned the two-party system into a controlled opposition, all while selling the world a story.


As we hop from one institution to the next, this cutting-edge, high-production image should serve as a roadmap.


From Direct Action to Deniable Proxies


In the mid-1970s, the CIA’s dirty laundry started spilling out. Assassination plots, illegal wiretapping, and mind-control experiments hit the headlines, thanks to leaks and a growing distrust of government after Watergate and Vietnam.


By 1975, the public was fed up, and Congress couldn’t ignore it. Enter the Church Committee, officially the Senate Select Committee to Study Governmental Operations with Respect to Intelligence Activities, chaired by Idaho Senator Frank Church. Formed in January 1975, it was tasked with digging into decades of intelligence abuses by the CIA, FBI, and NSA.



Over nine months, the committee held 126 hearings, interviewed hundreds of witnesses, and churned out a six-volume report that shocked the nation: the CIA had tried to kill foreign leaders, spied on Americans, developed a “heart attack gun” and even opened civilians’ mail. Church called the agency a “rogue elephant,” arguing it had run wild beyond oversight or accountability.


The Cold War had turned the CIA into a shadowy powerhouse, and the 1960s and ‘70s exposed its overreach. Revelations like the 1974 New York Times scoop on domestic surveillance lit the fuse.


The committee’s goal wasn’t just to air grievances—it aimed to rein in the beast, leading to reforms like the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA) and permanent oversight committees. But the CIA didn’t just roll over. The scrutiny forced a pivot, and that’s where the cut-outs come in.


Post-Church, the CIA faced tighter leashes—Congressional oversight, public blowback, and a dented reputation. Direct ops, like assassination plots or coups, became riskier; the agency couldn’t afford another spotlight. So, it got creative. Enter the cut-outs—organizations that could do the CIA’s bidding while keeping its fingerprints off the gun.


By the 1980s, groups like the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), founded in 1983, popped up, billed as private NGOs, but bankrolled by government funds and aligned with U.S. interests. Its partisan offshoots, the National Democratic Institute (NDI) and International Republican Institute (IRI), took the stage, promoting “democracy” abroad—training political parties, shaping elections, and nudging regimes.


So, the CIA needed deniable proxies after the Church Committee clipped its wings—enter the NDI and IRI, also birthed in 1983 under the NED’s umbrella. As always, they appear noble on paper: training activists, funding elections, and preaching democracy to the heathens abroad. But peek behind the curtain, and they look more like tools to keep the American political machine humming in unison—two parties, one Langley-approved script.


The setup’s clever. The NDI, cozy with Democrats, and the IRI, tight with Republicans, split the labor. They’re sold as independent, partisan cheerleaders for liberty, but their funding—tens of millions annually from the NED, itself a taxpayer-funded creation—ties them to the same government spigot. And who’s got a hand on that spigot? The same intelligence community that learned to outsource its dirty work post-1975.


It’s a perfect loop: the CIA can’t meddle directly, so it bankrolls “NGOs” to do it instead, all while the parties think they’re calling their own shots.

Domestically, the control’s subtle but suffocating. The NDI and IRI don’t just export democracy—they import discipline. They train party operatives, shape platforms, and groom candidates under the guise of “capacity building.”

By funneling resources and expertise through these institutes, the CIA—or whatever shadow hands guide them—ensures the Democratic and Republican establishments stay within bounds. Maverick voices get sidelined; the unapproved don’t get the playbook. It’s not about rigging votes—it’s about rigging the options.


Examples from the Field: Abroad as a Mirror for Home


The NDI and IRI have flexed their muscles in dozens of countries, often with results suggesting an agenda. Take Ukraine in 2004—the Orange Revolution. The NDI poured cash into “voter education” and trained opposition groups, while the IRI coached pro-Western parties like Viktor Yushchenko’s bloc.


When protests erupted over a rigged election, their fingerprints were all over the “spontaneous” uprising that flipped the country into the U.S. orbit. Democracy? Sure, if you ignore the millions in NED grants and the cozy ties to State Department goals.


You could also rewind to Serbia in the 90s. The IRI funneled support to Otpor, the youth movement that ousted Slobodan Milosevic (with some help from their friends at George SorosOpen Society). Training camps, cash, and strategy sessions turned a ragtag resistance into a polished battering ram—all branded as “people power.” The NDI chipped in, too, shaping the opposition coalition that took over.


The result? A government friendlier to NATO and U.S. interests.

A happy coincidence, right?


Now pivot home. The same tactics—training, funding, nudging— only now apply them to the political parties and “grassroots” political organizations. In the ‘90s, the NDI worked with Democratic leadership to “modernize” organizing, pushing a globalist-friendly agenda while sidelining populist outliers like Jesse Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition, as one example.


The IRI, meanwhile, coached Republican hopefuls, steering the party toward neoconservative hawks over isolationist rebels like Pat Buchanan. By the 2000s, both parties were lockstep on endless wars and corporate handouts—funny how that worked out.


Consider 2008, when Barack Obama’s “hope and change” juggernaut rolled out a grassroots machine that felt like a revolution but smelled like a blueprint. The NDI, already pros at training activists overseas—again, think Ukraine’s Orange Revolution—had a hand in this domestic play.


Operatives like Derek Mitchell, NDI president by 2018 but a Democratic insider long before, and board members like Donna Brazile, a campaign vet, were in the orbit during Obama’s rise.


The NDI didn’t just cheer from the sidelines; it had spent years perfecting “voter education” and community organizing tactics abroad, which suspiciously mirrored Obama’s tech-savvy, door-knocking army.


Now lets look to 2012, with the IRI’s fingerprints all over the Tea Party’s metamorphosis from pitchfork-waving populists to neocon lapdogs. The movement started in 2009 as a grassroots howl against bailouts and big government, but by the midterms, IRI heavies like John McCain and Randy Scheunemann—masters at steering “people power” abroad—saw an opening.


The IRI, fresh off coaching pro-Western parties in Eastern Europe, turned its toolkit inward: training sessions for GOP candidates, strategy briefs for activists, and a flood of NED cash to “modernize” the Republican party. Tea Party firebrands like Michele Bachmann got the memo—less Ron Paul, more Marco Rubio.


By 2012, the movement’s anti-war, small-government spine was swapped for neocon priorities: endless wars, surveillance, and corporate tax cuts. IRI board senators like Lindsey Graham cheered as the Tea Party’s rage was redirected at Iran and Russia, not Wall Street. Another happy accident—or a calculated co-optation to keep the bird’s right wing flapping to Langley’s tune?


Grooming Political Operatives


As we’ve established, the NDI and IRI are twin pillars of America’s 'democracy promotion' apparatus and are more than just NGOs. Funded through the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), their boards, packed with ex-senators, ambassadors, and strategists, reveal the guts of the “uniparty” or Washington consensus—raising questions about whose democracy they’re really building.


National Democratic Institute (NDI)


The NDI, which we’ve shown is aligned with establishment Democratic Party circles, has operatives with deep ties to its mission of "democracy promotion." Its board and leadership reflect this:


  • Madeleine Albright: Former U.S. Secretary of State under Bill Clinton; she chaired NDI for years until her death in 2022. A heavyweight in Democratic foreign policy, she shaped NDI’s global outreach, often tied to U.S. interventionist agendas. Was a regular fixture in the Soros/Clinton circle and in the deep politics of the United Nations.

  • Stacey Abrams: Served on NDI’s board. Known as a Georgia political boss and for her voting rights work in that state, she’s a rising Democratic star. She’s also on the Bilderberg Steering Committee and the Council on Foreign Relations, two of the most exclusive think tanks in the deep-state milieu suite.

  • Donna Brazile: Longtime Democratic strategist and former DNC chair, she’s on NDI’s board. Her political career spans decades, including managing Al Gore’s 2000 campaign, linking party strategy to NDI’s efforts.

  • Derek Mitchell: NDI president from 2018 to 2023; he was Obama’s ambassador to Myanmar. His diplomatic and party ties underscore NDI’s blend of policy and politics.

  • Tamara Cofman Wittes: Current NDI president (since 2024), she worked in Obama’s State Department. Her Middle East expertise aligns NDI with Democratic foreign policy priorities.


NDI’s board also includes lesser-known operative figures like Harriet Babbitt (former USAID deputy) and Robert Liberatore (ex-Clinton Commerce official), Howard Dean, Paul G. Kirk Jr., and many others.


International Republican Institute (IRI)

The IRI, leaning Republican, mirrors NDI with its own roster of GOP operatives tied to its leadership and mission:


  • John (No Name) McCain: Late Arizona senator and IRI chairman from 1993 until his death in 2018. A neoconservative icon, he drove IRI’s hawkish democracy agenda, notably in Eastern Europe and the Middle East. He also enjoyed membership in the Council on Foreign Relations.

  • Dan Sullivan: Current IRI chairman and U.S. Senator (R-AK). His leadership continues IRI’s GOP alignment.

  • Mitt Romney: Utah senator and IRI board member. The 2012 GOP presidential nominee, he ties IRI to classic establishment Republicanism.

  • Marco Rubio: Florida senator and IRI director. Known for his hardline stances on Cuba and China. Classic Neocon until recently.

  • Lindsey Graham: South Carolina senator, IRI board member and quintessential neocon. A foreign policy hawk, his role reinforces IRI’s interventionist streak. (Munich, WEF, Bilderberg)

  • Tom Cotton: Arkansas senator and IRI director. Steve Bannon recently referred to him as “king of the Neocons,” though I could name several better candidates for that role. Requested the “prosecution of journalists,” largely backed by AIPAC.


IRI’s board has also featured figures like Richard S. Williamson (Reagan and Bush aide) and Randy Scheunemann (neocon strategist), but the current senators are the most active operatives.


It’s worth noting that prior to Donald Trump, if a Republican wanted to run for president, they would have to be of the IRI, or at least IRI-approved.


Both NDI and IRI draw from their respective parties’ elite. While NDI operatives like Albright and Abrams lean into progressive and electoral framing, IRI’s McCain, Rubio, and Graham push a more militaristic, anti-authoritarian line.


USAID’s Role


The CIA’s rebrand didn’t stop at NED and its partisan twins. Enter USAID, the U.S. Agency for International Development—a name that conjures images of food drops and schoolhouses, not spycraft.


On paper, it’s been around since 1961, tasked with doling out aid to win hearts and minds in the Third World. In practice? It’s been a shadow player with quite a rap sheet.


During the Vietnam War, USAID ran cover for CIA ops—think front companies like Air America, shuttling supplies and agents under the guise of “development.”


By the 1970s, Church Committee investigators flagged it as a frequent collaborator, channeling funds and logistics to back the agency’s dirtier deeds. The line between humanitarian aid and covert agendas was blurry at best.


By the 1980s, USAID started cozying up to the newly created NED family, co-funding “democracy promotion” projects in places like Eastern Europe and Latin America.


A 1988 GAO report dryly noted millions in USAID grants flowing to NED-backed initiatives—money that trained activists, propped up friendly parties, and shaped elections across the globe, all under the banner of progress.


Critics, including ex-insiders, saw the pattern: USAID supplied the cash and cover, while NED’s outfits handled the political dirty work. Together, they formed a pipeline—aid as a Trojan horse for influence, with the CIA and its proxies lurking in the shadows.


This wasn’t charity gone rogue; it was design.


Take Nicaragua in the ‘80s: USAID pumped funds into “civic programs” that just happened to align with the CIA’s anti-Sandinista push, while IRI worked the opposition parties.


Or look at Ukraine in the 2000s, where USAID and NDI tag-teamed election monitoring and youth movements ahead of the Orange Revolution—moves that smelled less like grassroots and more like Langley’s playbook.

The beauty of it? USAID’s do-gooder sheen kept the heat off. Why admit to a coup when you can call it capacity building?


With Congressional oversight sniffing around the CIA, outsourcing to USAID and its NED cousins let the agency keep meddling—global and, some argue, domestic—without the blowback.


Outward and Inward


The CIA’s cut-out game worked like a charm overseas—toppling regimes and propping up puppets, all while USAID and NED’s crew kept the spotlight off Langley. But here’s the kicker: those same tools didn’t stay abroad.


By the 1990s, the IRI and NDI weren’t just training foreign politicos—they were turning their sights inward, sinking roots into America’s own red and blue machines. What started as “democracy promotion” for export morphed into a feedback loop, with consultants, donors, and operatives from both outfits cycling back to D.C.’s power corridors.


USAID’s cash, funneled through NED’s budget, didn’t just build ballot boxes in Kyiv or Managua—it greased the skids for a quieter project: keeping both U.S. parties on the same leash. The bird’s wings might flap different colors, but the strings were starting to pull in unison.


Targeting the Working and the Business Classes


The CIA’s cut-out playbook didn’t stop with party politics—unions were next on the list.


The Solidarity Center, officially the American Center for International Labor Solidarity, launched in 1997 under the AFL-CIO’s banner. On the surface, it’s a noble outfit—training workers, boosting labor rights, and fighting sweatshops. Dig deeper, and it’s another spoke in the USAID-NED wheel, bankrolled to the tune of millions by the same crew that feeds IRI and NDI.


By the late ‘90s, NED grants—often sourced from USAID’s coffers—were flowing into the Solidarity Center’s “worker empowerment” projects, from Poland to Peru. But the real tell? Its knack for showing up where U.S. interests need a nudge, steering unions into line with Washington’s agenda.


In Venezuela, the Solidarity Center poured cash into labor groups opposing Hugo Chávez in the early 2000s—right as the CIA was plotting his ouster. Declassified cables from 2002 show NED funneling $154,000 through the Center to anti-Chávez unions, syncing with a failed coup that reeked of Langley. Back home, it’s subtler but no less real.


The Center’s trained U.S. union leaders—think AFL-CIO rank-and-file—in “organizing techniques” that just happen to align with Democratic Party priorities or GOP-friendly trade deals, depending on who’s cutting the checks. Critics argue it’s a cut-out with a twist: instead of rigging ballots, it rigs the working class, keeping labor a loyal foot soldier for the red-blue machine rather than a wild card.


Mike Benz sees it as textbook—another layer of the CIA’s domestic creep. He’s pointed to the Solidarity Center’s funding—over 90% from NED and USAID by some counts—as proof it’s less about solidarity and more about control. In his view, the Center’s global gigs double as a backdoor to U.S. unions, ensuring they don’t rock the boat when the uniparty needs stability.


Think of it: while IRI and NDI herd the parties, the Solidarity Center corrals the workers—two wings, one master, now with a labor arm.


By 2025, with unions toeing the line on everything from NAFTA 2.0 to overseas wars, the question looms: who’s this “solidarity” really serving?


The CIA’s cut-out empire wasn’t done with parties and unions—it had bigger fish to fry: the free market itself. Now we get to another pillar of NED’s influence: the Center for International Private Enterprise (CIPE), launched in 1983 as another NED offshoot, tasked with “promoting free enterprise” worldwide. CIPE is to the Chamber of Commerce what the Solidarity Center was to the Unions—training CEOs, lobbying for deregulation, and pushing U.S.-friendly capitalism from Bangkok to Budapest.


Like its siblings IRI, NDI, and the Solidarity Center, CIPE’s lifeblood is NED grants—millions traced back to USAID’s deep pockets. By the ‘90s, it was raking in cash to “strengthen private sector institutions,” a mission that sounded benign until you clocked where the money went: propping up business elites who’d play ball with Washington’s game plan.


Abroad, CIPE’s fingerprints are telling. In Russia after the Soviet collapse, it funneled NED funds—$3 million by 1995 alone—to “entrepreneur” networks that greased the wheels for oligarchs cozy with U.S. interests, all while the CIA watched the chaos unfold.


Authors Note - If you’re curious about NED’s grant-making activities in foreign countries over the years, just search ‘NED Annual Report’ plus the year you’re after—plenty of dirt waits for those who dig.


Closer to home, it’s quieter, but dirtier. CIPE’s partnered with the U.S. Chamber of Commerce and trade groups, shaping policies like tax cuts or trade pacts—think TPP or NAFTA 2.0—that both parties mysteriously cheer despite the populist noise.


Critics say it’s no coincidence: CIPE’s “market education” programs train corporate players who bankroll GOP and Dem campaigns alike, ensuring the economic script stays on track no matter who’s in power.


Donald Trump and Elon Musk’s DOGE are ostensibly outsiders to this colossal monstrosity, and are attempting to remedy some of the excesses of this system. While they have drawn a significant amount of public scrutiny toward this gruesome amalgam—thanks in large part to the stellar work of Mike Benz—they are receiving considerable pushback, both in the narrative war and legally.


The Supreme Court just threw a lifeline to the beast.


On March 5, 2025, a 5-4 ruling gutted Trump’s bid to freeze $2 billion in USAID cash—supposedly payments for work already done by the “amalgam” of USAID, NED, and their CIA shadow.


The justices, with Roberts and Barrett flipping to the liberals, upheld a lower court’s order, forcing the admin to cough up despite the fact that most Americans approve of what Trump and DOGE are doing.


NDI, IRI, and the whole cut-out crew breathe easier—furloughs off, grants flowing—while the bird’s wings flap on, fueled by your tax dollars.


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