Guilty as Not Charged: Trump, the ‘World’s Coolest Dictator,’ and 238 Venezuelans

Philip Wade
13 minutes ago
9 min read

Philip Wade | 21 March 2025

A great number of Prisoners with white tshirts and slacks crowded into a cell. All have short hair, some have prominent tattoos and all are wearing disposable medical masks — Prison in El Salvador, 2019. Photo by Thiago Dezan / Farpa.

On March 16th 2025, in defiance of a court order, 238 Venezuelan citizens were deported from The United States to El Salvador. None of the 238 had been formally charged with a specific crime. Rather, under the auspices of an emergency act from 1798, last used in World War 2, the Venezuelans were declared to be Enemy Aliens. The justification for the arrest and deportation of the Venezuelans is that they were judged by the United States government, who have not released any proof, to be members of the transnational Venezuelan based criminal gang Tren de Aragua. Reports from the Venezuelan’s families claim that football tattoos and social media posts were the basis of this decision for at least one of the deportees. Another Venezuelan deportee Kilmar Abrego Garcia, who Vice-President JD Vance falsely claimed on X to be a “convicted” gang member, has since been discovered to be the victim of an administrative error and was deported by mistake, having been granted protected legal status in 2019.

The gang Tren de Aragua itself, like the US/El Salvadorean MS-13 before it, has become the new bogeyman of alarmist politicians in the US, the discussion and fear mongering of which far outweighs the material reality of the gang’s presence on US soil. Tren de Aragua has become increasingly prominent in right-wing discourse in the US. In March 2024, Senator Marco Rubio and Representative Maria Elvira Salazar, undersigned by a further 21 Republican members of congress sent a letter to then President Joe Biden declaring the gang an “Invading Foreign Army,” and demanding it be designated a terrorist organization, an act completed by Trump on arrival in office.

Much of the discussion regarding the deportations has focused on the legality of ignoring the court order. Yet it is important to note that the deportations themselves provide a chilling and dangerous reminder of the increasing security hysteria when it comes to discussing undocumented migrants, as well as the extreme danger and violence they are being subjected to. The presence of Latin American Maras (transnational gangs) within the US’s criminal economy goes back decades, with pitiably small percentages of violent crimes being attributable to them despite their heavy presence in public discourse. Yet since the 1990s at least, their perceived foreignness (MS-13 was in fact, formed in the US) and brutality has been used by US politicians to turn undocumented migration into a national security issue.

Yet, particular to the 238 Venezuelans, is the treatment of the deportees after deportation. Deporting migrants to third countries (i.e. not to their country of citizenship) is an increasingly common tactic by Western countries. The US has long been accused of dumping undocumented migrants found near the southern border in Mexico, regardless of their nationality. However, the UK, Sweden, Denmark and Italy have all recently declared their intention to deport undocumented migrants to willing third countries, such as the UK and Italy’s abortive schemes to send asylum seekers to Rwanda and Albania respectively. In these cases the intention is to circumvent human rights laws that forbid the forced repatriation of people in danger. However, the US’s reasoning for deporting Venezuelans to a third country appears to be as a punishment to the Venezuelan government for not accepting a high enough rate of deportation flights. The Venezuelan government for its part has accused the US government of refusing to allow direct deportation flights to Venezuela which the US has denied. A current report claims that Venezuela has now agreed to accept additional flights. This is particularly timely considering the US government’s decision to revoke the visas of over half a million migrants, including thousands of Venezuelans.

Yet despite the apparent petulance of sending the Venezuelans to El Salvador, the extremity of this case must be recognized. Not only have the deported Venezuelans (who we must remember have neither been convicted nor formally charged with any particular crime) been sent to a third country, they were immediately incarcerated upon arrival in El Salvador. This was confirmed by The President of El Salvador, Nayib Bukele, who announced that the Venezuelans would be kept in prison for an initial period of one year, which could be extended.

The arrival of the Venezuelans in El Salvador in March 2025 coincided with another momentous event. Rodrigo Duterte, former president (2016-2022) of the Philippines, and the architect of an extra-judicial ‘war on drugs’, arrived in the Hague Netherlands on March 12th to stand trial for crimes against humanity. Duterte’s war on drugs was a street level campaign of extra-judicial killings and imprisonment, led by security forces and vigilantes, both acting as paramilitaries outside of the justice system. Duterte’s war on drugs is estimated to have killed 30,000 people in the country. Critics have pointed out that only low level, dealers and addicts were targeted (when the victims weren’t simply personal enemies or rivals of members of the security forces). The crackdown was described as a war on the poor with the leadership structures of gangs, political networks etc. who, being deeply integrated into the structure of the state, were untouched.

Why the Venezuelans were sent to El Salvador in particular, and why the country accepted them, is down to the country’s own Duterte-style crackdown on drug gangs. Bukele, after winning the 2019 election was confronted with a stagnant economy and the need to lower the sky-high homicide rate of 3346 murders in 2018 (51 per 100 000). The new president secretly and illegally released a number of leaders from prison as part of a pact made with the country’s gangs. Yet, after a new round of violence in March 2022, Bukele declared a month-long state of emergency, which has been endlessly extended 14 times, with Bukele’s allies in congress stating that they will continue to extend the state of emergency until all gang members are arrested. Bukele’s crackdown focuses on a dragnet approach, with little interest in legal norms. The state of emergency gave license to the state security forces to unleash a wave of arbitrary detentions, and state sanctioned violence against anyone suspected of being part of a gang.

In February 2025, in the midst of the state of emergency, the now US Secretary of State, Marcos Rubio announced a new deal with Bukele. El Salvador had agreed to incarcerate US deportees accused of being members of transnational criminal gangs such as MS-13 and Tren de Aragua. Additionally, Rubio explained that US citizens and residents who are given jail sentences could be outsourced and serve their sentences in El Salvadorean prisons—an announcement widely decried as illegal under US law. President Trump recently fantasized about sending anti-Tesla protestors to El Salvadorean prisons in a March 21st 2025 Truth Social media post. For El Salvador’s part, El Pais reports that the US pays the Bukele administration 20 000 dollars a head per year for the incarcerated deportees.

The prison itself where the Venezuelans have been sent is a brand-new construction, a ‘mega-prison’ completed in 2023 with room for 40 000 inmates. Called CECOT (Centre for the Confinement of Terrorism), the prison is the centerpiece of Bukele’s crackdown. CECOT is rather more of a concentration camp that a standard prison. I say this not as a lazy reference to the Nazis, but rather in reference to its purpose, use and architecture. The cells are built to contain around 45 inmates, with four-storied bunk beds without mattresses. Visitation, recreation and education are forbidden. Shorn of all the vestiges of rehabilitation and in the context of an increasingly permanent state of emergency the long-term purpose of CECOT and the future of its inmates is unclear. The lack of contact and transparency, as well of stories of inmates dying and the corpses being left for long periods of time has led to some NGOs referring to the prison, and the prison system in general, as being a structure for disappearance.

There has been an outcry against such blatant violations of basic human rights as well as reports of appalling conditions within the prisons as well as systematized torture. The UNHCR and Amnesty International amongst others have condemned the policies. However, Bukele can point to an important success, in that the murder rate in El Salvador has collapsed. From those 3346 murders in 2018 to 114, or 1.9 homicides per 100,000, in 2024. This is the lowest rate of homicides in the Western Hemisphere, with the second lowest, Canada, having a rate of 2.5 per 100,000.

Such numbers are incredible. If we ignore for a moment that the country’s prison system is in places operating at over 300% capacity, the numerous accusations of human rights violations and a lack of transparency regarding deaths in custody. Of course, the problem with such numbers is that they aren’t true. The homicide rate is likely at least undercounted by 20%, as deaths involving state security forces are now omitted, as are bodies found in mass graves. Additionally, the social cost of the national emergency is stark, with 1.8% of the population being incarcerated. Amnesty international reports that human rights violations have become systemic, with mass trials, anonymous judges and little to no access to defense for detainees. Three hundred deaths have been recorded in custody, which is a figure that is likely much higher. As with Duterte’s crackdown in the Philippines, it is the most marginalized in society which have born the burden, whilst simply having tattoos is often sufficient to justify incarceration. This is an extra cruelty for anyone who has been able to leave a gang, as they are liable to be picked up by state security forces if they have not removed their tattoos.

With the arrival of the Venezuelans from the US, Bukele’s crackdown has also become transnational, both an export of Bukele’s policy, and an importation of the hemisphere’s problems. Hailed by many on the right wing across the Western Hemisphere, and further abroad, a number of Latin American states have declared their interest in pursuing similar policies and infrastructure. In June 2024, the right-wing National Security minister of Argentina, Patricia Bullrich visited CECOT, declaring an intention to replicate Bukele’s policies. Ecuador is building its own version of the prison, despite local protests.

Bukele, who has referred to himself, perhaps ironically, as the ‘world’s coolest dictator’ has also become extremely popular in US right-wing circles, having spoken at 2024’s conservative CPAC event. This is an impressive turnaround, considering that in 2023 a New York court unsealed a US indictment that explicitly accused the Bukele government of making deals with gang leaders, asking for a reduction in violence as well as support in congress. In exchange they offered reduced sentences for gang members, economic benefits and to ignore US extradition requests. Bukele’s codename in the documents released with the indictment, apparently self-chosen, is Batman. Perhaps an example of his contempt for legal norms.

However, despite the crackdown on gang members, the clientalistic links and pacts between gangs and political leaders endure in the country, while the immense political structure—of which the gangs leaderships are a part—remains intact. It should be noted that along with the 238 Venezuelans, a recently convicted (in the US) leader of MS-13 was also deported to El Salvador. César Antonio López Larios (one of the aforementioned leaders illegally released under Bukele) has had his conviction in the US waived for “geopolitical and national security concerns of the United States.” This is ostensibly in order for him to be prosecuted in El Salvador.

The future for human rights in El Salvador is uncertain. Duterte’s arrival in the Hague is a victory for human rights defenders, however despite modelling his own crackdown on Duterte, Bukele’s position seems rather secure, with the explicit support of US president Trump, and high levels of domestic support. However, considering the changing winds of US administrations, we can perhaps look to Juan Orlando Hernandez, who was the president of neighboring Honduras when Bukele took power. Accused of grave human rights violations himself, Hernandez was sentenced in 2024 to 45 years in prison in the US for his connection to drug deals and smuggling operations. This is despite having been a favorite of the Obama and the first Trump administration. Hernandez, somewhat tragi-comically had intended to request Trump, Biden and Obama as defense witnesses during his trial.

Like Duterte in the Philippines however, Bukele maintains high levels of support in El Salvador, with a recent Gallup poll suggesting an approval rating of 91%. It cannot be understated how important a reduction in endemic violence has been for El Salvadoreans. Gang fueled violence has plagued much of Central America in the past few decades, stemming from the civil wars of the 1970s and 1980s. Whilst the poorest in society bear the brunt of the crackdown, it can’t be denied that many in the country feel that human rights are a price worth paying for the security offered. However, the crackdown has not helped in other arenas, with El Salvador still suffering from a struggling economy after an unsuccessful adoption of bitcoin and the percentage of the population in poverty rising from 24.6% to 26.6% between 2021 and 2024.

For the 238 Venezuelans, who languish in CECOT, without being charged with a crime, the future looks particularly bleak. The Venezuelan government has described them as victims of kidnapping, demanding their release and declaring that they have begun speaking to lawyers in the country. However, at least some of the deportees have previously fled Venezuelain fear fortheir safety, such as the aforementioned Kilmar Abrego Garcia. Despite the US government admitting their mistake in deporting Kilmar, there is no intention or mechanism to facilitate his return to the US, as “US courts do not have jurisdiction [in El Salvador] to secure his release.” For now, it seems there is little hope of justice or safety for the 238 Venezuelans deported to El Salvador, nor for others deported to the country as an ongoing policy.