In an unparalleled move by President Nayib Bukele, El Salvador has witnessed a spike in its incarcerated populace, imprisoning approximately 1.6% of its citizens. Under Bukele’s stringent measures against gangs, the nation’s penal population burgeoned to roughly 100,000, marking a threefold increase in under two years, revealed Gustavo Villatoro, the nation’s Justice and Public Safety minister.

These figures render El Salvador’s incarceration rate a staggering three times that of the US and twice that of Cuba, the closest contender. Interestingly, this data emerges from the World Prison Brief, a UK-based initiative. Since 2020, the Salvadoran government had refrained from unveiling numbers tied to its penal institutions, an era predating Bukele’s use of emergency powers to mount his aggressive stance against gang activities. While human-rights advocates express concern over Bukele’s drift toward authoritarianism, his anti-gang initiatives have indisputably enhanced domestic safety, garnering him acclaim amongst Salvadorans.

As arrests multiplied, the nation saw its prison infrastructure expand. El Salvador’s most recent and expansive correctional facility, the Terrorism Detention Center or Cecot, was constructed to accommodate 40,000 prisoners, Cecot currently houses a mere 12,000.

Yet, this aggressive drive hasn’t been without its critics. Abraham Abrego, an advocate associated with the human rights entity Cristosal, opines that Bukele’s measures have inadvertently led to the unwarranted confinement of countless innocents. The procedures, he states, lack any preceding investigative measures or judicial mandates.

Sequestered in El Salvador’s remote outskirts, Cecot stands as an imposing edifice. Entry is closely guarded and inmates are denied visitations. During a media tour, inmates were directed to display their tattoos, many indicative of gang affiliations — evidence, as per government officials, potent enough for conviction. Inside this facility, living conditions are austere. Nearly 80 prisoners are crammed into single cells, furnished with rigid bunks sans mattresses or cushions. Health concerns, including tuberculosis, have also surfaced among the detainees.

Human Rights Watch and Cristosal’s joint assessment reveals that, since the onset of this aggressive campaign, nearly 90 fatalities have transpired within the national prison system, although Cecot remains untainted by such incidents.

Villatoro lauds Cecot, equating its stature to the most significant edifice of justice since El Salvador’s inception. This facility, in his words, caters to “serial killers”, destined to be its residents indefinitely. To address the ballooning inmate population, Villatoro indicates a forthcoming overhaul of El Salvador’s judicial framework, aiming for swift sentences. Existing prisons, he notes, are grappling with their capacities, housing 88,000 inmates, a stark leap from the 30,000 prior to Bukele’s initiatives.

Villatoro emphasizes the government’s commitment to upholding human rights at Cecot. However, he laments that certain human rights entities appear fixated on criminal rights, often downplaying their human identity. He acknowledges their entitlement to rights but insists on certain limitations.

Ubence Naomi Caceres Bermudez