The human cost of El Salvador’s new political model

The fear did not disappear in El Salvador. According to journalists, lawyers, activists, and human rights defenders, it simply changed shape. For years, fear came from gangs. People learned which streets they could cross, which buses they could take, and which neighborhoods could turn deadly after dark. Entire communities lived under extortion, surveillance, and the constant threat of violence.

Today, many Salvadorans acknowledge that those fears have diminished.

The government’s security strategy — particularly under the state of exception implemented in 2022 — dramatically reduced homicide rates and weakened gang control over large parts of the country.

But for critics of the government, a new kind of fear has emerged. Not the fear of gangs.

The fear of speaking.

“My mother has always asked me not to publish under my real name,” said Adriana, a Salvadoran journalist who requested anonymity due to concerns about retaliation.

For her, the atmosphere surrounding journalism in El Salvador has changed significantly over the last several years.

“There’s fear,” she said. “People are afraid of speaking publicly, afraid of criticizing the government, afraid of being identified.”

Adriana recalled moments while reporting in communities where residents lowered their voices before discussing politics or avoided speaking altogether.

She also described increasing pressure surrounding independent journalism and the growing feeling that critical reporting could eventually carry consequences.

“The only information that will be allowed to circulate will be the information dictated by the government,” she warned.

That perception is shared by other voices interviewed for this investigation.

For lawyer and human rights defender Ivania Cruz, the current climate in El Salvador reflects a broader transformation in the relationship between citizens and the state.

“There is surveillance. There is monitoring. There is fear,” Cruz said.

Cruz, one of the country’s most visible human rights lawyers, has spent years documenting alleged arbitrary detentions, abuses under the state of exception, and cases involving people she argues were wrongfully imprisoned.

According to her, the environment for activists, lawyers, and organizations critical of the government has become increasingly hostile.

“The resources of the state that should protect citizens are being used to silence critical voices,” she said.

In recent years, several journalists, activists, lawyers, and human rights defenders have either left the country or reported persecution, surveillance, intimidation, or criminal investigations.

Among the most high-profile cases are Ruth López, Cristosal’s former anti-corruption and justice director, constitutional lawyer Enrique Anaya, activist Fidel Zavala, and other public figures who have openly criticized the government. López and Anaya were arrested in 2025 and remain in detention awaiting trial, while Zavala was re-arrested after previously denouncing abuses linked to the state of exception.

The climate of fear has also extended beyond El Salvador’s borders.

One of the most visible recent cases involved Salvadoran photojournalist Diego Rosales, who requested asylum in Spain after denouncing harassment and persecution linked to his journalistic work.

While attending an asylum-related appointment in Seville, Rosales was detained after Spanish authorities activated an Interpol alert requested by the Salvadoran government. Spain’s National Court later ordered his release after finding no sufficient grounds to keep him detained while his asylum process continued.

Organizations such as Reporters Without Borders described the case as part of a broader pattern of transnational pressure and intimidation targeting Salvadoran journalists and critics abroad.

A similar situation unfolded for Salvadoran human rights lawyer Ivania Cruz and fellow UNIDEHC lawyer Rudy Joya, who also sought asylum in Spain after denouncing political persecution in El Salvador. Both had documented arbitrary detentions, alleged abuses under the state of exception, and legal irregularities linked to the government’s security policies.

In 2025, Salvadoran authorities issued arrest warrants against both lawyers while they were outside the country, later requesting Interpol red notices against them. United Nations experts warned that the measures could constitute “transnational repression,” arguing that international legal mechanisms were allegedly being used to pursue human rights defenders beyond El Salvador’s borders.

Spanish authorities eventually allowed both lawyers to remain in the country under asylum protections while their cases continued.

Kalev, a Salvadoran who spent years involved in an opposition political party, says he began experiencing harassment from authorities in 2023 because of both his political affiliation and his sexual orientation.

According to him, soldiers and police officers repeatedly stopped him in the street and demanded that he lift his shirt to check for tattoos.

“The threat was always there,” he recalled. “If they found any tattoo, regardless of what it was, they could detain you.”

At the time, multiple Salvadorans with no criminal records or proven gang connections had already been detained under the state of exception.

Fearing detention, Kalev eventually left El Salvador intending to study English in Ireland. But while passing through Spain, he presented his case before Spanish authorities, who ultimately granted him asylum protection.

For critics of the government, cases like his illustrate how fear under the state of exception extended far beyond gang structures and began affecting ordinary citizens, political dissidents, and marginalized communities.

For Cruz, these cases cannot be viewed in isolation.

“This is not about individual cases anymore,” she said. “It is about a message.”

According to her, the message is clear: criticizing the government can carry personal consequences.

That atmosphere has also contributed to growing self-censorship.

Journalists interviewed for this series described newsrooms becoming increasingly cautious about language, sources, and coverage involving security, corruption, or state institutions.

Others spoke about family members urging them to leave journalism altogether.

The fear extends beyond reporters.

Human rights organizations say ordinary citizens have also become increasingly reluctant to publicly criticize authorities or discuss politics openly.

For Malcolm Cartagena, an electoral analyst and former official of the Supreme Electoral Tribunal currently living in exile, the consequences of this climate go far beyond politics.

“Exile destroys your life in many ways,” Cartagena said.

According to him, leaving the country means abandoning family, work, emotional stability, and social identity all at once.

“You lose your routines, your relationships, your emotional support systems,” he explained.

Cartagena announced his departure from El Salvador after publicly denouncing political persecution.

Since then, he says he has watched the country’s democratic deterioration continue from abroad.

“The institutional damage is already done,” he said.

But exile itself has become increasingly common among people critical of the government.

Human rights defenders and journalists interviewed for this project described a growing number of Salvadorans quietly leaving the country out of fear.

For Cruz, the scale of the phenomenon is unprecedented in recent decades.

“El Salvador had not experienced this level of exile in years,” she said.

She herself eventually faced international legal proceedings linked to accusations promoted by Salvadoran authorities while outside the country.

According to Cruz, the experience reinforced fears that persecution no longer ends at national borders.

Critics of the government argue that the state of exception — initially justified as a temporary anti-gang measure — also accelerated this climate of fear.

Under the emergency regime, constitutional guarantees were suspended, mass arrests became common, and anonymous reporting mechanisms encouraged citizens to report alleged gang collaborators.

Human rights organizations estimate that thousands of detainees have no proven gang connections.

Lawyers and activists also warn that weak judicial oversight, restricted access to case files, and prolonged detentions have become normalized.

Still, despite criticism from international organizations and human rights groups, Bukele’s popularity remains extraordinarily high.

For many Salvadorans, the reduction in violence outweighs concerns about democratic erosion.

The country that once ranked among the most violent in the world now projects an image of security, order, and territorial control.

That contrast — between international praise and the experiences described by critics inside and outside the country — has become one of the defining tensions of Bukele’s El Salvador.

For Adriana, the fear lies not only in possible persecution, but in the gradual normalization of silence.

“The dangerous thing,” she said, “is when people stop speaking because they believe nothing can change.”

Even so, many continue speaking.

Journalists continue publishing. Lawyers continue documenting cases. Activists continue denouncing abuses.

For Cruz, that resistance matters.

“The government has not achieved the silence it wanted,” she said.

But the cost, according to those living through it, continues to grow.

And in today’s El Salvador, critics say fear no longer only comes from criminal groups.

It also comes from the possibility of becoming a target for speaking out.