Under the governance of President Nayib Bukele, El Salvador has morphed almost overnight into a global case study in repressive model autocracy. This important change is an indicator of the growing convergence of domestic and international penal policies. With the highest incarceration rate in the world, El Salvador’s approach to crime and punishment has garnered attention, particularly during Bukele’s recent visit to Washington, D.C. The trip served to further cement the growing collaboration between El Salvador and the United States. Collaboratively, they address some of the most complicated subjects within the fields of immigration and criminal justice.
El Salvador’s innovative, albeit controversial, strategies include the establishment of the Terrorism Confinement Center (Cecot), a maximum-security prison that symbolizes Bukele’s hardline stance on crime. Under his administration, El Salvador has remained under a “state of exception” for three consecutive years. This measure not only suspends indigenous constitutional protections but it grants the federal government unprecedented powers to detain people. This increasingly militarized environment has caused human rights advocates nationwide to ring alarm bells—telling lawmakers such measures violate civil liberties.
During his time in Washington, Bukele touted the success of his collaboration with the U.S. He underscored the importance of how El Salvador’s fight against crime is in line with American interests. Once again the United States is pressuring El Salvador to build more prisons. This change is meant to facilitate the repatriation of U.S. citizens who commit crimes abroad. U.S. courts have been consistently reluctant to accept pieces of this deportation agenda, causing conflict between branches of government and presidential prerogative.
The effects go well beyond national borders. Former President Donald Trump has touted his punitive approach in the U.S. as similar to the one that’s been instituted in El Salvador. Like those in Guantánamo Bay, he has used legal loopholes to address problems created by his war on immigration and incarceration. Even more extreme, El Salvador’s “mega-prison” underscores the emergent and evolving nature of incarceration itself. Yet it signals a significant expansion of American deportation practices, all deeply connected to Bukele’s authoritarian regime.
Turkish PhD student Rümeysa Öztürk, who had fled persecution in Turkey, was arrested on the outskirts of Boston. Her case serves as an example of how U.S. immigration policies and enforcement practices greatly affect lives in our communities. Öztürk’s punishment for her honest and bold criticism of the Turkish government is yet another indicator of a government more intent on excluding dissenting voices than accepting criticism. Similarly, Kilmar Ábrego García’s arbitrary detention and designation as a terrorist by both U.S. and El Salvadoran authorities exemplify how punitive measures can transcend borders and entangle individuals in complex legal predicaments.
Bukele’s model has proved alluring to leaders throughout Latin America, regardless of their ideological orientation. His illiberal governance style has emerged as an aspirational model for some, even as critics warn that it is increasingly authoritarian. El Salvador’s state of exception is based on brute force. It creates an atmosphere where opposition has dangerous consequences and a high price tag.
As this situation unfolds, the judicial aspect may serve as a litmus test for Trump’s interpretation of the Bukele method. The U.S. has increasingly outsourced its most severe immigration enforcement tactics to private entities and foreign governments, creating what some view as a system of legal black holes where accountability is obscured. This outsourcing brings urgent ethical concerns regarding human rights and the role of government in enforcing immigration laws in general.