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Daily Mail
06-08-2025
- Politics
- Daily Mail
How El Salvador's brutal crackdown on crime transformed the country... and prompted US to declare it safer than Britain
El Salvador was once one of the most dangerous countries in the world, but today its murder rate has dropped by 98 per cent in a decade, and the US now considers it safer to visit than Britain or France. In 2015, there were 6,656 murders in the small Central American country, which has a population of just 6.4 million. But in 2024, there were only 114 killings. The dramatic change came after President Nayib Bukele, who brands himself as the 'world's coolest dictator', launched an aggressive crackdown on crime. In 2022, he declared a state of emergency, which remains in place. It gave security forces the power to arrest people without a warrant. At one point, around 1,000 people a day were being detained on suspicion of gang involvement. A year later, El Salvador opened a new prison called the Terrorism Confinement Centre - Cecot - to hold the growing number of detainees. It was built in a remote area and is now one of the most extreme prisons in the world. Inmates are banned from all contact with the outside world, and up to 100 men share a single cell. They sleep on bare concrete slabs with no mattresses, and food is limited. There are no visitors, and prisoners are often transferred in chains, surrounded by armed guards. Inmates are confined to their cells and are only allowed out for exercise in the prison's corridors or video link hearings. El Salvador now has the highest prison population per capita in the world, with nearly three per cent of all men in the country behind bars. US president Donald Trump has hailed Bukele's policies, and the two have become close allies. Before the crackdown, the country was dominated by two main gangs, MS-13 and Mara 18, which formed in California during the 1980s. Many members were deported back to El Salvador in the 1990s and took control of large parts of the country. Gangs extorted money from businesses, controlled entire neighbourhoods, and carried out brutal killings. But that has changed since the leader's rise. He campaigned on the promise to make the country safe, and his supporters say he has delivered. Criminal gangs are not the only ones in his crosshairs. He introduced tougher penalties for petty crimes - anyone caught drink driving, even with a trace of alcohol, can be jailed for 15 days before facing a fast-track trial and up to five years in prison. He has also surrounded entire towns with soldiers, doubled the size of the military, and expanded surveillance powers. Checkpoints with troops carrying rifles have been set up, and cops go door to door in search of suspected criminals. The tactic, which Bukele calls a 'security fence,' has been used in dozens of operations since 2022. Bukele has also pushed legal reforms allowing judges to try dozens of suspects at once. Evidence can include anonymous tips or online posts. In February 2025, Bukele signed a law which ordered children held for organised crimes to be sent to adult prisons. According to Human Rights Watch, over 3,000 minors have been detained with little or no evidence. The government has also introduced a national informant hotline, offering cash rewards to citizens who report suspected gang members. Posters and text messages encourage neighbours and even relatives to turn people in. Critics say this has led to false accusations and revenge reports. However, Bukele says the crackdown is 'an example for other countries … that we can live in peace'. Aside from his war on crime, he has launched policies like making his country the first nation to declare Bitcoin legal tender and has improved the country's infrastructure. Bukele's supporters argue that the results speak for themselves and say locals and tourists now walk the streets safely at night, even in areas that were once no-go zones Last year, he was re-elected with 85 per cent of the vote in a controversial election. His main opposition got less than 7 per cent. In a recent move, Congress abolished the limit on presidential terms, allowing him to stay in power for life if re-elected. Opposition congresswoman Marcela Villatoro said, 'Democracy died today,' after the reforms were passed by 57 votes to three. Bukele's supporters argue that the results speak for themselves and say locals and tourists now walk the streets safely at night, even in areas that were once no-go zones. But his huge transformations have not come at a cost. He has been heavily criticised by human rights advocates who say he has committed many atrocities, especially when it comes to detainees. In 2022, Amnesty International said: 'Under the current state of emergency, the Salvadoran authorities have committed massive human rights violations, including thousands of arbitrary detentions and violations of due process, as well as torture and ill-treatment.'
Daily Mail
05-08-2025
- Politics
- Daily Mail
How El Salvador's crackdown on crime - from gangs to petty offences - and mega prisons transformed the country... and prompted US to declare it safer than Britain
El Salvador was once one of the most dangerous countries in the world, but today its murder rate has dropped by 98 per cent in a decade, and the US now considers it safer to visit than Britain or France. In 2015, there were 6,656 murders in the small Central American country, which has a population of just 6.4 million. But in 2024, there were only 114 killings. The dramatic change came after President Nayib Bukele, who brands himself as the 'world's coolest dictator', launched an aggressive crackdown on crime. In 2022, he declared a state of emergency, which remains in place. It gave security forces the power to arrest people without a warrant. At one point, around 1,000 people a day were being detained on suspicion of gang involvement. A year later, El Salvador opened a new prison called the Terrorism Confinement Centre - Cecot - to hold the growing number of detainees. It was built in a remote area and is now one of the most extreme prisons in the world. Inmates are banned from all contact with the outside world, and up to 100 men share a single cell. They sleep on bare concrete slabs with no mattresses, and food is limited. There are no visitors, and prisoners are often transferred in chains, surrounded by armed guards. Inmates are confined to their cells and are only allowed out for exercise in the prison's corridors or video link hearings. El Salvador now has the highest prison population per capita in the world, with nearly three per cent of all men in the country behind bars. US president Donald Trump has hailed Bukele's policies, and the two have become close allies. Before the crackdown, the country was dominated by two main gangs, MS-13 and Mara 18, which formed in California during the 1980s. Many members were deported back to El Salvador in the 1990s and took control of large parts of the country. Gangs extorted money from businesses, controlled entire neighbourhoods, and carried out brutal killings. But that has changed since the leader's rise. He campaigned on the promise to make the country safe, and his supporters say he has delivered. Criminal gangs are not the only ones in his crosshairs. He introduced tougher penalties for petty crimes - anyone caught drink driving, even with a trace of alcohol, can be jailed for 15 days before facing a fast-track trial and up to five years in prison. He has also surrounded entire towns with soldiers, doubled the size of the military, and expanded surveillance powers. Checkpoints with troops carrying rifles have been set up, and cops go door to door in search of suspected criminals. The tactic, which Bukele calls a 'security fence,' has been used in dozens of operations since 2022. Bukele has also pushed legal reforms allowing judges to try dozens of suspects at once. Evidence can include anonymous tips or online posts. In February 2025, Bukele signed a law which ordered children held for organised crimes to be sent to adult prisons. According to Human Rights Watch, over 3,000 minors have been detained with little or no evidence. The government has also introduced a national informant hotline, offering cash rewards to citizens who report suspected gang members. Posters and text messages encourage neighbours and even relatives to turn people in. Critics say this has led to false accusations and revenge reports. However, Bukele says the crackdown is 'an example for other countries … that we can live in peace'. Aside from his war on crime, he has launched policies like making his country the first nation to declare Bitcoin legal tender and has improved the country's infrastructure. Last year, he was re-elected with 85 per cent of the vote in a controversial election. His main opposition got less than 7 per cent. In a recent move, Congress abolished the limit on presidential terms, allowing him to stay in power for life if re-elected. Opposition congresswoman Marcela Villatoro said, 'Democracy died today,' after the reforms were passed by 57 votes to three. Bukele's supporters argue that the results speak for themselves and say locals and tourists now walk the streets safely at night, even in areas that were once no-go zones. But his huge transformations have not come at a cost. He has been heavily criticised by human rights advocates who say he has committed many atrocities, especially when it comes to detainees. In 2022, Amnesty International said: 'Under the current state of emergency, the Salvadoran authorities have committed massive human rights violations, including thousands of arbitrary detentions and violations of due process, as well as torture and ill-treatment.'
The Guardian
04-08-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘We have to clear our names': Venezuelan make-up artist who survived Ice detainment tries to rebuild his life
Andry José Hernández Romero has already picked out the color of the suit he'll wear to the next celebration of the Three Kings festival in his home town in the Venezuelan Andes. The carnivalesque celebration of Epiphany inspired the tattoos that landed him behind bars in El Salvador, accused of belonging to Venezuela's most feared criminal gang, Tren de Aragua. The suit will be green, 'like hope', he said. Now free, and speaking over Zoom from his home, Hernández, 31, lifted his shirt to show two of the nine tattoos on his body: the words mom and dad, each inked beneath a crown. 'This is the big controversy that has caused me too much harm,' he says. Hernández, a make-up artist, was one of 251 Venezuelan men flown from Texas to the notorious Cecot maximum security prison in El Salvador as part of Donald Trump's crackdown on immigration. They endured months in a facility described as the 'cemetery of the living dead' before finally being repatriated in late July, following a deal between the US and Venezuelan governments. Now, they are trying to rebuild their lives – and for Hernández, that means planning his outfit for the festival of Three Kings Day in his hometown of Capacho – a celebration he has been fascinated by since he was a boy. 'I'm already working on my suit. My mom is happier. Everyone wants to help me with the design and the fabrics,' he said. 'What they still don't know is that in Cecot I had so much time to think. The suit is already designed.' He was arrested last August after crossing the US southern border to attend a prearranged asylum appointment. Hernández, who is gay, told agents he was fleeing persecution stemming from his sexual orientation and political views. He was held for six months in San Diego, and on 15 March, he was put on a plane in Laredo, Texas, which he thought was headed for Venezuela. But when it landed, the prisoners saw a foreign flag flapping in the wind. At first, Hernandez presumed it was a stopover, but the men were soon forced off the aircraft by screaming guards who quickly made it clear they were now prisoners of an authoritarian crackdown by the president, Nayib Bukele, in El Salvador. For four months, his family had no idea where he was. For them, he had been forcibly disappeared. There were no calls, no communication, no trace. Confirmation of his whereabouts only came on 20 March 2025, when CBS published a leaked list of 238 Venezuelans sent to El Salvador. Later investigations confirmed that 90% of those deported had no criminal record in the US. Life inside Cecot followed a bleak rhythm. There was no sunlight, no answers, no information. But always, there was the sound of handcuffs. 'I think they used it as emotional control – that sound of the cuffs and the doors,' he recalled. The yelling never stopped. 'For everything. Because we spoke. Because we asked questions. For everything. 'If that's how they treated us, knowing we were just migrants, I don't even want to imagine how they treat the regular inmates – the ones who've actually committed crimes,' he said. As a gay man, Hernández endured relentless harassment and taunting by the guards. 'In El Salvador, believe me, human rights don't exist. And LGBTQ rights? Even less. People in there who belong to the community have to be brave... we carry an extra burden. It's hard for a regular prisoner to accept that he shares a cell with someone from the community. Someone different. Someone who loves the same sex. Who sees the world differently.' In interviews after his release, Hernández described an episode of sexual abuse. His lawyers have advised him not to speak further until they gather all the necessary evidence to file a formal complaint. 'It's a very hard and delicate thing to talk about,' he said. Nobody told the men that they were going to be released, but last month the prisoners noticed that something had changed at Cecot. Doctors came to check on them. They were given hygiene products. Guards started to drop hints. Then, 18 July, Bukele released a video making it official: a prisoner swap had taken place, exchanging ten US citizens and several political detainees in Venezuela for the 251 Venezuelans held in the cages of Cecot. After 125 days locked up in El Salvador, the men boarded a flight home. Hernández arrived in Capacho early on 23 July. His mother was waiting with pisca andina, a traditional Andean soup. His younger brother had brought him his favorite comfort food – salchipapas, or fried sausages with chips. The return home was overwhelming. 'I've been amazed by all the solidarity,' Hernández said. 'All of Capacho, everything they've done. My parents never stopped fighting for my freedom. What they did for me – it was enormous. I'll be grateful to them for the rest of my life.' Now, alongside his lawyers, he is focused on seeking justice – which, in his words, means clearing his name and those of his fellow deportees. 'They have to clear our names. We were branded with legal ink. None of us belong to the Tren de Aragua. President Donald Trump and President Nayib Bukele must face the consequences of everything we went through in that prison. International authorities need to take action.' Hernández has started drawing again. Over Zoom, he scrolls through dozens of sketches of dresses – a lifelong hobby that helped him survive the darkest moments. But the trauma is still there: there are still sounds he struggles to process: keys jangling, doors closing, the fear that creeps in when he tries to sleep. 'I thought it was just me, but several of my friends have said the same thing – that they can't stand seeing a police officer or hearing the sound of keys or chains.' He had hoped to return to the world of art, makeup, design – and to pursue a dream he's had since childhood: launching a foundation called Ángel de Dios, to support children with HIV and cancer. For now, out of concern for his safety, he chooses not to speak about Venezuela's political context. 'I think Andry Hernández is still going to be the same Andry as always,' he said. 'I'm still the same person who cares deeply about the world of makeup – and about justice, especially when it comes to diversity and the LGBTQ community.'
The Guardian
28-07-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
Democrat urges hearing into ‘human rights abuses' at El Salvador megaprison
Congresswoman Delia Ramirez is 'urgently' requesting a congressional hearing regarding the use of federal funds to pay El Salvador to detain immigrants inside a secretive terrorism prison, according to a letter she sent to the US House's homeland security committee. Ramirez, an Illinois representative and Democrat who sits on the committee, is requesting a hearing to address 'human rights abuses' at the facility, where the US government sent nearly 300 immigrants after Donald Trump's second presidency began in January. The Guardian viewed Friday's request letter, sent by Ramirez to the homeland security committee chair, Andrew Garbarino, a New York Republican. Details continue to emerge regarding the treatment of Venezuelans by Salvadorian prison officials. On 18 July, the US, El Salvador and Venezuela engaged in a prisoner swap that released 252 Venezuelan men from the notorious Central American megaprison. According to press reports, Venezuelan immigrants who were sent by the US to El Salvador's Terrorism Confinement Center, known as Cecot for its Spanish acronym, have said they were subjected to horrific abuse, including beatings, torture, denial of food and, in one case, sexual assault. Lawyers for some of the men said they endured 'state-sanctioned torture', the Guardian reported. 'I am concerned that, in paying the Salvadoran government to detain immigrants at Cecot, the administration funded human rights violations with taxpayer dollars,' Ramirez's letter says. 'I urgently request that we hold a hearing on how US funds were used to enable these flagrant human rights abuses at Cecot.' Garbarino did not immediately respond to a request from the Guardian for comment about Ramirez's letter. The second Trump administration has designated a Venezuelan gang, Tren de Aragua, a foreign terrorist organization. In March, the Trump administration invoked the Alien Enemies Act and claimed that the Venezuelan government had sent members of Tren de Aragua to 'invade' the US. Intelligence agencies reportedly contradicted the administration's claims linking the gang to the Venezuelan government. But in mid-March, immigration officers quietly filled planes with Venezuelan and Salvadorian immigrants who were detained by the US and quickly sent them to El Salvador to be detained in the Cecot prison. A federal judge ordered the planes to return after they took off. Despite the court order, the flights arrived in El Salvador, setting the stage for a unresolved court battle between the Trump administration and the federal judiciary. See more of the Guardian's immigration crackdown charts and data here. The Trump administration sent more people to El Salvador's Cecot prison later in March. After the expulsions and deportations, news reports revealed that the US government relied on flimsy evidence to accuse the deported immigrants of gang membership. One case that gained significant media attention was that of Andry Hernández Romero, a 32-year-old gay make-up artist whose crown tattoos near the words 'Mom' and 'Dad' in Spanish were cited as evidence that he was a gang member. His attorney has said that one of the tattoos honored his favorite soccer team, Real Madrid, whose logo includes a crown. The Venezuelan men were detained in Cecot for months and released on 28 July in a prisoner swap. The Venezuelan men were sent back to Venezuela, while a number of US nationals detained in the country were returned to the US – among them a former US marine who had been convicted of a triple-murder. The Salvadoran men sent to Cecot by the US government were not released as part of the swap. After his release, Hernández Romero told journalists his time in Cecot was 'an encounter with torture and death', Reuters reported. 'Many of our fellows have wounds from the nightsticks; they have fractured ribs, fractured fingers and toes, marks from the handcuffs, others have marks on their chests, on their face ... from the projectiles.' In another interview with Venezuelan media, Hernández Romero said he was sexually abused by guards. The Venezuelan government has said it will investigate El Salvador's president Nayib Bukele, a close Trump ally, over the alleged abuses. Bukele's Cecot prison has been a defining centerpiece of his administration in recent years. In 2022, Bukele declared a state of exception, leading to a massive crackdown on gangs in the country and the construction of a network of secretive prisons, including Cecot. Bukele's government has invited US representatives, social media influencers and international media to tour the facility. Details of the deal between the US government and El Salvador to detain the nearly 300 immigrants are still mired in secrecy. The US frequently invoked the 'state secrets' privilege during court proceedings to avoid any disclosures regarding its deal with Bukele. In recent months, more questions have arisen regarding the deal between the Trump administration and Bukele. During the Alien Enemies Act expulsions, the Trump administration expelled a top MS-13 leader to El Salvador and is currently trying to return a second one, leading to accusations that the US is trying to do a favor for Bukele. Bukele reportedly requested the return of key MS-13 leaders from US custody, critics say, to allegedly prevent them from revealing further information about a controversial 2019 pact between his government and the gang.
The Guardian
27-07-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
Men freed from El Salvador mega-prison endured ‘state-sanctioned torture', lawyers say
Venezuelans that the Trump administration expelled to El Salvador's most notorious megaprison endured 'state-sanctioned torture', lawyers for some of the men have said, as more stories emerge about the horrors they faced during capacity. When José Manuel Ramos Bastidas – one of 252 Venezuelan men that the US sent to El Salvador's most notorious mega-prison – finally made it back home to El Tocuyo on Tuesday, the first thing he did was stretch his arms around his family. His wife, son and mother were wearing the bright blue shirts they had printed with a photo of him, posed in a yellow and black moto jacket and camo-print jeans. It was the first time they had hugged him since he left Venezuela last year. And it was the first time they could be sure – truly sure – that he was alive and well since he disappeared into the Centro de Confinamiento del Terrorismo (Cecot) in March. 'We have been waiting for this moment for months, and I feel like I can finally breathe,' said Roynerliz Rodríguez, Ramos Bastidas's partner. 'These last months have been a living nightmare, not knowing anything about José Manuel and only imagining what he must be suffering. I am happy he is free from Cecot, but I also know that we will never be free of the shadow of this experience. There must be justice for all those who suffered this torture.' The Venezuelan deportees were repatriated last week following a deal between the US and Venezuelan governments. Nicolás Maduro, the Venezuelan president, negotiated a prisoner swap that released 10 American citizens in his custody and dozens of Venezuelan political prisoners in exchange for the release of his citizens from Cecot. This week, after undergoing medical and background checks, they are finally reuniting with their families. Their testimonies of what they experienced inside Cecot are providing the first, most detailed pictures of the conditions inside Cecot, a mega-prison that human rights groups say is designed to disappear people. Ramos Bastidas and other US deportees were told that they were condemned to spend 30 to 90 years in Cecot unless the US president ordered otherwise, he told his lawyers. They were shot with rubber bullets on repeated occasions – including on Friday, during their last day of detention. In interviews with the media and in testimony provided to their lawyers, other detainees described lengthy beatings and humiliation by guards. After some detainees tried to break the locks on their cell, prisoners were beaten for six consecutive days, the Atlantic reports. Male guards reportedly brought in female colleagues, who beat the naked prisoners and recorded videos. Edicson David Quintero Chacón, a US deportee, said that he was placed in isolation for stretches of time, during which he thought he would die, his lawyer told the Guardian. Quintero Chacón, who has scars from daily beatings, also said that he and other inmates were only provided soap and an opportunity to bathe on days when visitors were touring the prison – forcing them to choose between hygiene and public humiliation. Food was limited, and the drinking water was dirty, Quintero Chacón and other detainees have said. Lights were on all night, so detainees could never fully rest. 'And the guards would also come in at night and beat them at night,' said his lawyer Stephanie M Alvarez-Jones, the south-east regional attorney at the National Immigration Project. In a filing asking for a dismissal of her months-long petition on behalf of her clients' release, Alvarez-Jones wrote: 'He will likely carry the psychological impact of this torture his whole life. The courts must never look away when those who wield the power of the US government, at the highest levels, engage in such state-sanctioned violence.' Ramos Bastidas has never been convicted of any crimes in the US (or in any country). In fact, he had never really set foot in the US as a free man. In El Tocuyo, in the Venezuelan state of Lara, and had been working since he was a teenager to support his family. Last year, he decided to leave his country – which has yet to recover from an economic collapse – to seek better income, so he could pay for medical care for his infant with severe asthma. In March 2024, he arrived at the US-Mexico border and presented himself at a port of entry. He made an appointment using the now-defunct CBP One phone application to apply for asylum – but immigration officials and a judge determined that he did not qualify. But Customs and Border Protection agents had flagged Ramos Bastidas as a possible member of the Venezuelan gang Tren de Aragua, based on an unsubstantiated report from Panamanian officials and his tattoos. So they transferred him to a detention facility, where he was to remain until he could be deported. Despite agreeing to return to Venezuela, he remained for months in detention. 'I think what is particularly enraging for José is that he had accepted his deportation,' said Alvarez-Jones. 'He was asking for his deportation for a long time, and he just wanted to go back home.' In December, Venezuela wasn't accepting deportees – so Ramos Bastidas asked if he could be released and make his own way home. A month later, Donald Trump was sworn in as president. Everything changed. Ramos Bastidas began to see other Venezuelans were being sent to the military base in Guantánamo Bay in Cuba – and he feared the same would happen to him. On 14 March, he shared with his family that maybe he would be able to come back to Venezuela after all, after officials began prepping him for deportation. The next day, he was flown to Cecot. 'They could have deported him to Venezuela,' Alvarez-Jones. 'Instead, the US government made a determination to send him to be tortured in Cecot.'
