The security came bundled with something else: the dismantling of democracy itself.
In the years since El Salvador's President Nayib Bukele suspended constitutional rights and began mass arrests in 2022, a nation of roughly six million has traded one form of terror for another — gang violence for state violence. International legal experts now conclude there are reasonable grounds to believe crimes against humanity have been committed, with ninety thousand people detained, hundreds dead in custody, and democratic institutions systematically dismantled. The world watches as the 'Bukele model' spreads across Latin America, forcing a question as old as governance itself: at what point does the pursuit of order become the very disorder it sought to end?
- A landmark legal report by international human rights experts formally concludes El Salvador's mass incarceration campaign — sweeping up 1.4% of the entire population — meets the threshold for crimes against humanity, including torture, murder, and forced disappearances.
- Over 400 people have died in custody, thousands with no gang ties were arrested, and 85 political prisoners — including human rights investigators — remain jailed, while the mega-prison Bukele built has also held deported Venezuelan migrants who reported systematic abuse.
- Bukele's methods genuinely shattered gang control and collapsed homicide rates, earning him a second term from voters who experienced real relief — creating a democratic paradox in which a population freely chose the dismantling of its own democratic protections.
- The 'Bukele model' is now being studied and praised by leaders across Latin America, from Chile's incoming president to governments of both left and right, spreading an authoritarian template dressed in the language of public safety.
- El Salvador's leading human rights organization has fled into exile in Guatemala, its chief investigator remains imprisoned, opposition judges have been fired, term limits abolished, and congress is now a near-total extension of presidential will — the architecture of indefinite rule is in place.
In four years, El Salvador's President Nayib Bukele imprisoned roughly ninety thousand people without trial — 1.4 percent of the entire population — under a state of exception declared in 2022 to crush the MS-13 and Barrio 18 gangs that had terrorized the country for decades. A new study assembled by international legal experts and human rights organizations now concludes there are reasonable grounds to believe crimes against humanity are being committed, documenting arbitrary detention, torture, murder, and forced disappearances as the result of policy promoted at the highest levels of government. The authors are calling on the United Nations to open an international investigation.
The human cost is documented and specific. More than four hundred people have died in custody. Thousands arrested had no gang ties. The sprawling mega-prison Bukele constructed for gang members also held over two hundred fifty Venezuelan migrants expelled by the Trump administration, who later reported systematic abuse before being returned to Venezuela in a prisoner swap. Most detainees remain in pretrial detention in a system stripped of due process.
And yet the policy achieved what Bukele promised. Homicides collapsed. Gang territorial control disintegrated. Ordinary Salvadorans experienced something like safety for the first time in years — and in 2024, they rewarded Bukele with an unconstitutional second term. Santiago Canton, co-author of the report and general secretary of the International Commission of Jurists, captured the dilemma plainly: the state must protect citizens from organized crime, but it must do so within the law.
The model is now spreading. Chile's incoming president has called El Salvador a lighthouse for a world battered by organized crime. Leaders across Latin America, left and right alike, are studying the approach. But the security arrived bundled with authoritarian consolidation — Bukele fired opposing judges, rewrote electoral rules, persecuted critics, and abolished presidential term limits. Cristosal, Central America's leading human rights organization, relocated to Guatemala after its chief anti-corruption investigator, Ruth López, was arrested; she remains imprisoned alongside eighty-five other political prisoners.
Canton's warning reaches beyond El Salvador's borders: it took decades to build democracy across these countries, and the Bukele model that regional politicians are now celebrating ultimately implies its destruction. Whether that warning lands before the template does remains the open question.
In four years, El Salvador's president locked up roughly ninety thousand people without trial. That figure—1.4 percent of the entire population—now sits at the center of a legal reckoning that may reshape how the world understands the cost of security.
A new study by international legal experts, assembled by human rights organizations, concludes there are reasonable grounds to believe crimes against humanity are being committed. The report documents arbitrary imprisonment, torture, murder, and forced disappearances under the state of exception that Nayib Bukele declared in 2022, when he suspended constitutional rights and sent security forces after MS-13 and Barrio 18—gangs that had terrorized Salvadoran society for decades. The authors describe these abuses as "the result of a policy known and promoted by the highest levels of government" and are calling on the United Nations to launch an international investigation.
The human toll is concrete and documented. More than four hundred people have died in custody. Thousands arrested had no gang ties at all. Many are held in the Terrorism Confinement Centre, a sprawling mega-prison Bukele built specifically for gang members—the same facility where the Trump administration detained more than two hundred fifty Venezuelan migrants it expelled, who later reported systematic abuse and torture before being returned to Venezuela as part of a prisoner swap. Most detainees remain in pretrial detention under grim conditions, their cases stalled in a system stripped of due process.
Yet the policy worked, at least by the metric Bukele promised. Homicides plummeted. Gang territorial control collapsed. For the first time in years, ordinary Salvadorans experienced something like freedom from daily violence. In 2024, they voted to give Bukele an unconstitutional second consecutive term—a choice rooted in genuine relief and gratitude for the security his methods delivered. Santiago Canton, co-author of the report and general secretary of the International Commission of Jurists, acknowledged the bind: "The state must protect citizens from organised crime—but with the law, and with respect for human rights."
The "Bukele model" has become a blueprint. José Antonio Kast, Chile's incoming president, recently called El Salvador "a lighthouse in a world roiled by organised crime." Across Latin America, both right-wing and some left-wing leaders are studying the approach, seeing in it a solution to the gang violence that has plagued their own countries. Canton noted the model's spreading appeal: "Governments are using it as an example. Go to any country that has elections and Bukele is there on the streets."
But the security came bundled with something else. Bukele has dismantled the institutional checks meant to constrain executive power. He fired judges who opposed him. He rewrote the electoral system in his favor. He persecuted critics in civil society and the press, many of whom are now in exile. Cristosal, a leading human rights organization in Central America, relocated to Guatemala last July after its chief anti-corruption investigator, Ruth López, was arrested. Nearly a year later, López remains imprisoned alongside eighty-five other political prisoners, according to Cristosal.
Meanwhile, Bukele's party dominates congress almost entirely. They have scrapped presidential term limits, clearing the path for indefinite re-election. Canton sees in this trajectory a warning that extends far beyond El Salvador: "It took us decades to build democracy in all these countries. And the Bukele model that these Latin American politicians are lauding ultimately implies its destruction." The question now is whether other governments will heed that warning, or whether the appeal of order—achieved through the suspension of law—will prove too strong to resist.
Notable Quotes
The state must protect citizens from organised crime—but with the law, and with respect for human rights.— Santiago Canton, co-author of the report and general secretary of the International Commission of Jurists
It took us decades to build democracy in all these countries. And the Bukele model that these Latin American politicians are lauding ultimately implies its destruction.— Santiago Canton
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
How do you square the fact that Salvadorans actually voted for Bukele again, knowing what he'd done?
They voted for the absence of fear. When gangs control your neighborhood, when you can't let your children play outside, when violence is the background noise of daily life—the promise of safety becomes almost everything. The vote wasn't a blank check for authoritarianism. It was a desperate choice.
But ninety thousand people arrested. Over four hundred dead in custody. Surely people knew that was happening?
Some did. Human rights groups documented it. But for many ordinary Salvadorans, the trade felt worth it. They could walk to work without being extorted. They could sleep without gunfire. The violence that had defined their lives for decades was gone. The cost was abstract to them—it was happening to other people, people they didn't know, people the government said were gang members.
And now other countries are watching and thinking, maybe we should try this?
Yes. And that's the real danger. Because the security part works. It actually does reduce homicides. But it only works if you're willing to dismantle democracy to do it. You can't have mass detention without due process and also have an independent judiciary. You can't have both.
So Bukele solved one problem by creating a bigger one?
He solved a problem that was destroying the country. But he did it in a way that gives him permanent power and removes the mechanisms that could ever remove him. That's not a solution. That's a trap.
What happens now?
The UN investigation, if it happens, will document what happened. But documenting crimes against humanity doesn't automatically stop them or reverse them. Bukele has the support of his people and the backing of other governments who like what he's done. The legal reckoning and the political reality are moving in opposite directions.