On the 9th of February 2020, the President of El Salvador, Nayib Bukele, invaded the Salvadoran Legislative Assembly, backed up by armed military and police in an attempt to pass his Territorial Control Plan. “Now, I think it is very clear who has control of the situation,” Bukele declared before beginning a prayer. Perhaps he meant God.
Unfortunately, he almost certainly did not. There is a new cadre of autocratic Presidents across Latin America who perceive themselves to be blessed by God, and therefore entitled to rule with impunity — or perhaps they merely cloak themselves in the political gossamer of God’s good graces. Although differing from country to country, there is a growing trend of authoritarianism across Latin America which poses a dire — in some cases existential — threat to democracy, human rights, and the rule of law.
Venezuela continues to flounder in the face of a Presidential crisis, with two Presidents self-declared as the sole legitimate executive. Mexico’s human rights policy remains contradictory, particularly over migration and security strategies. Now Nayib Bukele may be leading El Salvador to top the list, crippling democratic institutions, eroding the rule of law, flirting with authoritarianism, and seriously violating human rights, all at once.
A Millennial for President
One year before the invasion of the Legislative Assembly, Bukele became the first millennial in all of Latin America to win an election for President. Running under the banner of the Gran Alianza por la Unidad Nacional (GANA) party, he swept the ballots with over 53% of the total vote, soundly defeating the right-wing Alianza Republicana Nacionalista (ARENA) (31.8%) and trouncing the then-governing left-wing party Frente Farabundo Martí para la Liberación Nacional (FMLN) (14.4%). The victory was hailed as a triumph of democracy and heralded as the dawn of a new age for El Salvador.
Coming at the heels of three former Presidents facing allegations of corruption, the 38-year-old politician debuted on the Salvadoran political scene as a populist outsider and a promising alternative to crippling state corruption. He promised to bring an end to corruption through thorough investigation and prosecution of those responsible, and bring down the country’s soaring murder rate — a bold and challenging promise to keep for anyone seeking to govern in a country so plagued by gang violence.
Bukele came to revolutionize. Adamant to gain approval of his request for $109 million to implement his so-called #PlanControlTerritorial (Territorial Control Plan), he pressured legislators to approve the legislation. Arriving in person and accompanied by an armed group of military and police personnel, Bukele abruptly interrupted legislative proceedings and called for an exceptional emergency session of the Legislative Assembly — which is expressly forbidden by the Constitution. Despite what many of Bukele’s supporters claim, legislators have not yet made a decision to approve or deny the loan, as Bukele has not answered their demand for an account of the expenditures for the funding his administration has already received at his behest.
Evidently, he does not plan to answer. After publicly "asking God for wisdom,” he claimed that the people have the right to insurrection, threatening that if the Ministers did not approve the loan for his plan, there would be rebellion.
Territorial Control Plan
Bukele's march on the Legislative Assembly was prompted by the withdrawal of legislative support for funding of Bukele’s multiphase national security strategy, the Territorial Control Plan. The objective of the strategy is to counter gang violence and improve security in the country. (El Salvador is considered one of the most violent places to live and is home to one of the most notorious gang squads in the world, Mara Salvatrucha-13 (MS-13), and its biggest rival, Barrio 18.)
The plan allegedly has seven stages, but Bukele has only publicly released the first three phases, which carry an estimated cost of $575 million by 2021. The first step, “Preparation”, consisted of an armed occupation and surveillance of municipalities with the largest gang and crime presence, focused on dismantling their financial underpinnings. The second phase, “Opportunity”, focused on building community-centered preventive strategies to create opportunities for youth, targeting mainly those predisposed to criminal activity. Bukele's administration was only able to secure a $91 million loan from the Central American Bank for Economic Integration (CABEI) for the phase — just shy of $70 million less than the $158 million it requested.
The third phase, “Modernization”, aims to modernize the national security forces, the National Civil Police (PCN) and the Armed Forces of El Salvador (FAES) by providing them with new equipment and designing a new policing apparatus. CABEI approved a second loan to the tune of $109 million for this third phase, and the Treasury Commission of the National Assembly ruled in favor of moving the loan forward, with only FMLN party representatives in dissent. However, three days later, ARENA legislative representatives began to question the effectiveness of the Territorial Control Plan and voted against the resolution, sending the loan back to the Treasury Commission for a second analysis, where it remains intractably stuck.
The failure of the loan approval for the third stage led to the “attempted coup” in Congress and prompted a constitutional crisis between the President and the National Assembly. In the aftermath, the Constitutional Chamber of the Supreme Court demanded that Bukele cease and desist from the use of armed forces for purposes other than those provided by the Constitution — warning that the use of such forces against Congress threatened both democracy and the separation of powers. The Court also ordered that Bukele’s Council of Ministers refrain from calling another special legislative session and that the defense minister and the director of the National Civil Police perform their duties within the confines of the constitutional mandate. The President has ignored it.
Two Sides of the Same Coin
Despite the odds, since Bukele assumed office, homicides in El Salvador have bottomed out to their lowest recorded rates since the 1992 Peace Accord. The Central American nation went from 9 homicides per day in 2018 to 3.6 as of October 2019, marking a decrease from 51 homicides per 100.000 inhabitants in 2018 to 35.8 in 2019. As a result, Bukele’s approval ratings shot up to nearly 90% at the end of December 2019. MS-13 is even showing signs of willingness to open new peace negotiations (though the request includes a demand for political legitimacy in return).
On the surface, the strength of the rule of law in El Salvador seems to be making steady progress under Bukele. In reality, the decreased murder rate is not the result of strengthening democratic institutions and good governance on the part of the Bukele administration. Rather, the decrease is the result of a drastic spike in the number of police and military personnel on the streets. Poverty and unemployment — the main societal drivers of violent crime in El Salvador — remain a stark and very real challenge for the country.
Despite the Constitutional crisis and lagging socioeconomic agenda, the decrease in the murder rate and temporary (if perhaps false) sense of security have stymied widespread public criticism of Bukele. His persona as a young outsider and man of the people continue to drive support for Bukele from most Salvadorans. Yet, despite Bukele’s currently stable public support, neither the current hyper-policed state nor the status quo ante is sustainable in the long term. Without addressing the root challenges, El Salvador will eventually devolve back into a state of corruption and violence.
There is a chance that the net outcome of Bukele’s term is positive, and that he leaves office with an overall decrease in gang violence and a reduced murder rate, a lower emigration rate, and a small rise in economic growth and quality of life for El Salvadorans. The U.S. State Department has even lowered travel-safety warnings for El Salvador and is looking to invest in the country, which could be of great assistance for creating new job opportunities.
However, Bukele’s plan so far relies solely on combatting gang and drug activity through policing and decreasing emigration via negotiation with the United States to shore up border security and patrolling. These measures will likely prove insufficient, as they focus on mitigating the externalities and symptoms of underlying social and economic challenges. There is a fine line between the productive and counterproductive presence of expanded police forces in the streets. The conduct and mindset of police is crucial and integral to decreasing violence. If that line is crossed, the plan could have the complete opposite effect, and amplify the violence. It remains to be seen how successful and durable Bukele's strategy of maximum force will be.
There is a very real possibility that the Bukele administration’s actions worsen an already grim scenario. His constant calls for excessive use of force, repeated violations of human rights, policies encouraging arbitrary arrests and the omnipresence of police and military forces, and continued flouting of rulings from the Supreme Court are incompatible with a democratic system and the rule of law. Emigration will undoubtedly remain a challenge, as thousands of Salvadorans seek asylum in the United States every year. Bukele’s plan to hold back emigrants by enhancing border control — arresting any and all who attempt to cross it — is not the answer.
Despite assertions to the contrary, the current Territorial Control Plan appears to be more of the same — a dressed-up version of previous administrations' attempts to address the issues through increased security. Bukele is working with the same police force, the same army, the same prosecutors, and the same judicial system as his predecessors. Beefing up the budget while retaining the same security procedures and judicial apparatus under which corruption flourished will not end corruption.
Moreover, at the same time that the implementation of phase one lowered the number of homicides, it also demonstrated a spike in violence from the police, which confirms the criticism that heavy policing is not going to solve the problem of gang violence. Also, the results of phase two will not be visible in a short period, and there is no consent for the continuity of phase three yet since Bukele does not hold a majority in Congress.
In the case of El Salvador's COVID-19 response, too, the President resorts to methods violating human rights and the rule of law. The Bukele’s administration remains strict in its enforcement of quarantine, escorting people caught on the streets to police stations and detention centers — which are overcrowded and house detainees in unsanitary and inhumane conditions — and arresting citizens in circumstances beyond the legal scope of that which the decree identifying quarantine measures provides.
Bukele has already ignored three rulings from the Supreme Court on this issue, having replied to the Court in his Twitter account — where he makes almost all of his public statements — that “five people will not decide the death of thousands of Salvadorans.”
At a minimum, for the sake of the separation of powers and the rule of law, the Judiciary needs to continue to comply with rulings from the Supreme Court even if the President elects to disregard it. The future is still very uncertain, but regardless of the path it follows, El Salvador has an international obligation under the Protocol of San Salvador and the Inter American Convention on Human Rights to respect, protect, and prevent its people from violations of democracy and human rights.
Shrouded in Uncertainty, One Thing Remains Clear
Although the uncertain, there is hope for the future if the President takes sensible and reasonable actions. Despite the fact that this might be another dangerous episode of foreign intervention in Latin America, and since the U.S. is willing to invest in the country, Bukele should forget about arming the border and rather channel foreign direct investment into development, improving infrastructure and generating employment.
In addition to that, Bukele’s administration must work with the Legislative Assembly to address the underlying socioeconomic issues — poverty, joblessness, inequality, and corruption among them — which drive organized crime and gang violence that ultimately force people to abandon their homes in search of a better life. Only then can El Salvador begin to stem the tide of emigration and make real progress.
This nuance is likely lost on the average Salvadoran, however. Bukele’s public prayers, on the other hand, are not solely an exercise in vanity; he knows the power of public prayer to elicit sympathy and support from Salvadorans. With a population of more than 80% Christian — the words “God, Union, and Liberty” are the national motto and appear in the state flag — El Salvador is among Latin America’s most devoutly Catholic countries. As such, Bukele’s political chorus may sing in millennial overtones, but it remains much the same religiopolitical chant that Latin America’s ostensibly devout populists have always sung.
Charming crowds with the notion that someone was "clearly" in control of the situation following his abrupt invasion of the Legislative Assembly, Bukele shrouded himself in the veneer of faith — but he was not referring to God and it was not the introduction to a prayer. Behind the apparent act of faith lies a very real threat to those that would oppose his rule. Standing with the military and the police behind him, Bukele was sending a message to El Salvador’s legislative representatives that he has the power, will, and means to call an unconstitutional extraordinary session of the Assembly. It was political blackmail. Bukele is implicitly threatening the Assembly to support his Territorial Control Plan or risk unleashing “popular rebellion” — and no doubt El Salvador’s armed forces — to forge ahead with the plan Bukele has tied to his political credibility.
If El Salvador’s institutional champions of democracy fail, its checks and balances lose their level, and the rule of law becomes rule by force, El Salvador might just need divine intervention to avoid becoming yet another Latin American democracy to fall the way of authoritarianism. For now, El Salvador awaits its Savior.
Diana Sposito
Staff Contributor
Edited by: Cameron Vaské, Torge Bartscht
All views expressed in this article are solely those of the author, and do not represent the views of The International Scholar or any other organization.
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