The Burgeoning Regional Appeal of Mano Dura Crime-Fighting Strategies

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The security context in Latin America and the Caribbean (LAC) is shaped by paradox: while the region has no active large-scale conflicts, it experiences some of the highest homicide rates in the world. According to the UN Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC) Global Study on Homicide 2023, LAC has a homicide rate of 20.9 per 100,000 people, well above the global average of 5.8 per 100,000. The violence is predominantly fueled by organized crime, drug trafficking, and gangs, particularly in countries like Colombia, El Salvador, Honduras, and Mexico, but also increasingly in countries considered safe havens like Chile and Costa Rica. Weak law enforcement institutions, widespread corruption, and social inequality contribute to an environment where criminal organizations thrive, leading to high levels of violence that surpass even those of war-torn regions.

In just about every LAC country, citizens rank security as one of their top concerns, as the constant threat of violence affects daily life. For example, in Mexico 70 percent of citizens cited crime or violence as a top concern in 2023, in Costa Rica 63 percent, and in Chile 62 percent. These numbers show that even countries with relatively stable political systems face persistent challenges from violent crime. In such contexts, political platforms that emphasize a tough-on-crime approach, with the promise of punitive measures restoring order, have often resonated with voters. In LAC, citizens have long held a fascination with strongman leaders, or caudillos, who often erode democracy, weaken institutions, and violate human rights.

But even in a region where a tough-on-crime and often militaristic approach to curbing crime and violence has been historically popular, the rise of El Salvador’s president, Nayib Bukele, has been unprecedented. The so-called Bukele model, though often ambiguous, is increasingly capturing the imagination of Latin American politicians and citizens alike. Indeed, Bukele’s actions and his improvements to El Salvador’s security have made his name synonymous with mano dura, or iron-fisted approaches to security. However, citizens often fail to understand what the model truly does, what citizens must sacrifice to implement it, and the significant societal costs involved in pursuing the illusion of quick solutions—an approach that has never proved sustainable or effective.

Bukele’s actions and his improvements to El Salvador’s security have made his name synonymous with mano dura, or iron-fisted approaches to security.

The Rise of Bukele

President Bukele portrays himself as a cool and relatable leader who is a political outsider. At the same time, he controls a propaganda machine that allows him to remain popular despite actions that might be less palatable to voters under a different leader. In February 2020, after less than nine months in office, Bukele demonstrated his first autocratic tendencies when he called for a special congressional session, stormed congress with heavily armed military personnel, and demanded funding for his Territorial Control Plan (PCT), implicitly threatening to dissolve the congress or even stage a coup. Throughout Latin America, such an act would have caused an uproar, and few leaders could have survived the backlash. Not only did Bukele survive, but Salvadorans applauded him.

A key reason the congress hesitated to approve the budget for the PCT was that the plan was poorly defined and contained strategies similar to other mano dura policies pursued in the past. Nonetheless, Bukele’s government forged ahead. The official website of the president states that the first phase, “preparation,” includes controlling the territory and repressing criminals but does not detail how the government would go about this. The phase includes measures attempted in the past—namely, deploying the military and relying on it to police the Salvadoran people. The concept of phases suggests defined start and end dates for certain policies. However, since the state of emergency declared in March 2022 remains active, it is evident that the initial phase, which brought the military and police in full force, was not a temporary measure but Bukele’s method of governance.

Bukele credits the reduction in crime and homicide rates during his first years in office to his PCT. However, two key factors were likely more influential: the Covid-19 pandemic and gang negotiations. Just one month after Bukele stormed congress with the military, the World Health Organization (WHO) declared a global pandemic, presenting a perfect opportunity to restrict civil liberties under the guise of public health concerns. On March 21, 2020, just 10 days after the WHO declared a global pandemic and with only one confirmed Covid-19 case in the country, Bukele mandated a countrywide lockdown. While quarantines were common during this period, it was unusual for such a small country with only one confirmed case to impose such strict measures so early. By June 2020, El Salvador began easing restrictions, but certain lockdown measures continued throughout much of 2020. The government’s strict enforcement of quarantine rules, including the controversial detentions of those accused of violating the lockdown, lasted until around late August, even after the supreme court had ruled that further extensions of the lockdown without legislative approval were unconstitutional. In reality, Bukele’s extreme response to the pandemic was driven less by public health concerns than by an effort to reduce civil liberties and limit mobility, with the aim of lowering homicide rates to cement his popularity.

In September 2020, El Faro reported that, according to government records, the Bukele administration had been negotiating with MS-13 to reduce homicide rates and gain electoral support. However, Bukele continues to deny those allegations and credit his administration and his PCT as the reasons for the sharp decline in crime and violence. Bukele’s strategy included behind-the-scenes negotiation with gangs, which aimed to influence voter turnout in gang-controlled areas, helping him secure the congressional majority needed to advance policies that would otherwise face legislative or judicial resistance. In February 2021, Bukele’s party, Nuevas Ideas, secured a supermajority in congress, which enabled him to take significant steps to undermine democratic institutions. He used this power to attack the judiciary by removing the attorney general and constitutional court judges who had previously ruled against some of his pandemic-related actions. Bukele replaced them with judges he expected would be loyal to him, further consolidating his control over the legal system. Demonstrating quick results and attributing them to his policies was crucial for Bukele’s administration to gain public support. This support allowed the government to continue implementing antidemocratic measures and violating human rights, all while justifying these actions under the guise of a popular mandate.

A key feature of the Bukele security model is a state of exception that has become the norm. In March 2022, after a breakdown of negotiations with gangs, El Salvador experienced an extremely violent weekend when over 92 people were killed. This sudden surge gave way to the first declaration of a state of emergency, which has been extended monthly, a total of 30 times as of September 2024. Under this state of exception, constitutional rights, such as freedom of assembly and the right to a legal defense, have been suspended. States of exception inherently concentrate power in the hands of the executive, often eroding democratic checks and balances. This has been evident in Latin America, where a pattern of weakening democratic institutions has allowed sitting leaders to consolidate power, often transforming into elected autocrats. As these exceptions become increasingly routine, they risk fostering authoritarian rule under the guise of maintaining public security. If public sentiment shifts, these same powers could be turned against dissenting citizens.

A striking aspect of the Bukele administration is its remarkable popularity. Despite the erosion of democratic norms under his leadership, Bukele enjoys some of the highest approval ratings of any elected official globally—80–93 percent, depending on the survey. Paradoxically, even as El Salvador experiences democratic backsliding, a 2023 survey revealed that most Salvadorans still value democracy, with 64 percent expressing satisfaction with the current system. This contrast may be largely attributed to Bukele’s highly effective public relations strategy, which aggressively targets his critics while framing his actions as both legitimate and in line with democratic principles. This narrative, however, stands in stark opposition to the views of experts, human rights organizations, and activists, who frequently denounce his policies as undermining democracy.

The Bukele Model: Charisma, Centralized Power, and the Suspension of Civil Rights

While many leaders endorse the Bukele model in their rhetoric, they often overlook the practical challenges of implementing such policies. They also fail to acknowledge that El Salvador’s situation has unique characteristics that may not apply to other countries, such as the popularity of its leader, its small geographic size and population, and the focus on gangs rather than on transnational criminal organizations. The core components of Bukele’s approach—his manipulation of legislative and judicial systems, backdoor negotiations with gangs, and a perpetual state of exception—make it clear that what he presents as a security solution is, in reality, a pathway to authoritarianism. This analysis delves into the strategies Bukele uses, not as a blueprint for others to follow but as a cautionary tale about the dangers of sacrificing democratic norms for short-term security gains.

The Bukele model has three major components: a charismatic leader, an overhaul of democratic governance, and a suspension of civil rights. Each element is crucial for successfully implementing these hard-line approaches to crime. The success of this model relies on a cult of personality in which the leader carefully crafts and maintains his public image, in part, through his domination of social media and control of the media narrative. As president, Bukele leverages his marketing experience to promptly address any opposition and maintain a firm grip on his messaging. In doing so, he presents himself as the solution to the country’s violence. Bukele’s marketing strategy includes a series of documentary-style video clips that promote his image as a “modern strongman,” reinforcing the idea that his hard-line approach is forward thinking, necessary, and effective. More recently, Bukele has adopted the title of “philosopher king,” a concept derived from Plato’s Republic, which argues that the ideal state is governed by philosophers and lovers of truth.

Bukele’s legislative support has been a key factor in his success. His party, Nuevas Ideas, shifted the political landscape, which was historically dominated by the Nationalist Republican Alliance (ARENA) and Farabundo Martí National Liberation Front (FMNL) parties. In the 2021 election, Nuevas Ideas won 46 seats and with its coalition partners secured an additional 15 seats, giving them a majority and reducing the opposition to just 23 seats. By the 2023 election, ARENA had only two seats, and the FMNL had none. Minor parties collectively secured just four seats, allowing Nuevas Ideas to obtain a supermajority in the legislative assembly and further consolidating Bukele’s grip.

To cement his party’s dominance, Bukele has redefined the country’s municipal boundaries, consolidating El Salvador’s 262 municipalities into 44 and further centralizing control in the hands of the executive. This move reduces the number of elected officials and weakens local governance by concentrating power in the executive branch. With fewer municipalities, each becomes larger, making it harder for opposition parties to win seats. Previously, opposition parties could secure victories in smaller municipalities, but the consolidation has diluted their influence. In the larger municipalities, minority parties are less likely to win elections, as their power is spread too thin, leading to consistent losses in local elections.

A strong grip on the judiciary is also a key element. In 2021, Bukele initiated a “purification of the judicial system” supposedly aimed at rooting out corruption within the judicial branch. The legislature mandated that judges aged 60 or over or those with 30 years of service retire from their positions. This forced one-third of the country’s judges into retirement, allowing Bukele to fill approximately 200 vacancies with loyalists. The supreme court was not spared from the purge; five judges were removed from their positions. Further, the attorney general was forcibly dismissed for his alleged affiliation with an opposition party. With control over both the legislature and the courts, Bukele bypassed the constitution to secure his reelection despite six articles prohibiting a president from serving more than five years. Through strategic maneuvering of the political system, Bukele has not only solidified his power but also circumvented constitutional limits.

Another key component of the apparent success of the Bukele model has been holding unofficial negotiations with criminal organizations and gangs. This symbiotic relationship means the control of violence becomes a strategic game, with each move—whether by the state or the gangs—potentially destabilizing security. Another important component is the willingness of a country’s criminal organizations to engage in negotiations and present demands the state can address. More importantly, the feasibility of negotiations depends significantly on the organization type and size, the scope of criminal activities, and whether those activities extend beyond national borders.

Under this model, the executive branch can suspend civil liberties and carry out mass incarceration missions without due process. Authorities can arrest individuals based on vague grounds such as suspicious appearance or anonymous accusations, bypassing judicial oversight. This has led to the incarceration of over 77,000 people, accounting for 1.22 percent of the country’s population of 6.3 million. Another aspect of this operation is the severe overcapacity of prison facilities, some of which are running at 300 percent capacity. To contextualize the situation, the United States, which ranks second to El Salvador in terms of incarcerations per capita, has approximately 2.1 million incarcerated people; that number would need to rise to 6.62 million to match El Salvador’s rate. Brazil’s prisons are operating at 147 percent capacity, while Bolivia’s prisons are even more overwhelmed, running at 264 percent capacity. The South American continent has jailed more than twice as many inhabitants as any other region.

Additionally, the Bukele model requires significant investment, with the estimated total cost of the PCT around $575 million. The primary expense of the investment is the Terrorism Confinement Center (CECOT); the facility alone costs around $70 million to build. However, the cost of construction of the CECOT is only the initial expense. Operational expenses, including maintenance of technology, salaries of security personnel, infrastructure maintenance, and the logistics of transporting 40,000 inmates, add up to a hefty amount, though exact figures are unknown. During Bukele’s first term, his government relied on $7.77 billion in loans from international organizations, bonds, and private loans to support roughly 20 percent of its budget between 2019 and 2023. While avoiding default, the administration used high-interest loans and postponed some payments, like pension fund contributions. As Bukele begins his second term, plans for further borrowing have raised concerns about the country’s financial sustainability.

Finally, the success of this model hinges, in part, on El Salvador’s relatively small population of 6 million. The country’s crime landscape is dominated by two gangs, MS-13 and Barrio 18, both of which are highly localized and lack significant transnational economic strength. MS-13’s annual revenue in 2016 amounted to $31.2 million, making the average wages for each member around $65 a month. This environment allows for less complex security measures than in countries where crime is driven by complex transnational criminal networks. For example, in Mexico, a cartel’s revenue ranges from $6 billion to $29 billion. As a result, Bukele’s model is a poor approach to effectively combating crime in the long term. Moreover, the geographical size of El Salvador allows for rapid territorial control, as well as terrain that is not as prohibitive as other mountains and valleys in the region.

Burgeoning Regional Appeal

Plan Bukele not only is popular in El Salvador but also has emerged as the most important version of mano dura currently in Latin America. Indeed, it has been discussed in myriad contexts and across a vast ideological spectrum. According to a recent profile in the New York Times, “The ‘Bukele model’ is now the talk of Latin America. Bureaucrats from across the region troop back and forth to San Salvador to study policing methods and visit President Bukele’s sprawling showcase prison, where they gaze upon defanged prisoners, skin scrawled with tattoos, but eyes drained of obvious emotion.”

While Bukele has not actively promoted his plan in the region, he has welcomed Latin American leaders to solicit his advice and has basked in the invocation of his name as synonymous with security in domestic political contexts. More recently, officials in his government appear to welcome the idea of exporting the model. One security minister stated, “What we have achieved in El Salvador is available to all countries.”

Plan Bukele not only is popular in El Salvador but also has emerged as the most important version of mano dura currently in Latin America. Indeed, it has been discussed in myriad contexts and across a vast ideological spectrum.

Across Latin America, Bukele’s style of mano dura appears to have regional appeal along three main groups. The first includes those who genuinely want to emulate Bukele’s security model and understand its trade-offs and details well. They have studied the context deeply and believe it will translate into tangible security gains in their home country. The second group comprises those who want to reap the electoral benefits of campaigning on Plan Bukele. Many in this category are less convinced of the plan’s efficacy or have not thought sufficiently about it. The third group is perhaps the most capacious: those who do not understand what Plan Bukele entails and naively want to transplant the Bukele security model into their domestic context. While it may be too early to determine definitively which leaders fall into which camp, fault lines are beginning to emerge.

In neighboring Guatemala, citizens have held pro-Bukele marches, cheering the Salvadoran president’s visits to the country. During one of those visits, some held signs asking Bukele to be president of Guatemala. In the most recent election, which saw Guatemala elect Bernardo Arévalo in an election marred by democratic deficits, the president’s opponent referenced Bukele as a model for addressing crime and enforcing stricter security measures. Arévalo also squared off against Zury Ríos, who channeled Bukele on the campaign trail. Political figures across Guatemala have increasingly modeled themselves after Bukele, seeking to capitalize on his popularity. Political analyst Renzo Rosal from Universidad Landívar notes that Guatemalan politicians’ admiration for Bukele stems from their authoritarian tendencies and lack of substantive policy proposals. Even fringe candidates, like Amilcar Rivera of the Victoria party, have adopted Bukele’s physical appearance, with Rivera sporting a dark, trimmed beard and baseball cap. While these candidates were ultimately unsuccessful against Arévalo, they have set the stage for future campaigns to adopt Bukele’s tactics in Guatemala. In the 2023 presidential election, corruption and governance were the top concerns for voters, followed closely by security. However, in future elections, if progress is made on corruption, voters may shift their focus toward security, making Bukele’s hard-line approach an appealing strategy for candidates seeking votes.

In neighboring Honduras, President Xiomara Castro has implemented a state of exception covering 158 of the country’s 298 municipalities and granting the military control over public security, purportedly patterned on Bukele’s model. Notably, Castro’s state of exception has not achieved the same results as Bukele’s, with extortion reportedly still frequent. Gangs have adapted by integrating into taxi and bus driver groups, using middlemen to collect extortion payments and establish networks to continue their criminal activities. These measures have been ineffective in fully addressing the country’s systemic corruption and entrenched criminal networks. As in Guatemala, Bukele’s visit to Honduras occasioned a standing ovation. Following the visit, Castro announced the building of a prison to house 20,000 prisoners, presumably modeled after the one Bukele built. Castro has implemented several Bukele-like measures including the suspension of civil liberties, such as freedom of movement and assembly, and the deployment of 20,000 police and military personnel. These measures have led to numerous arbitrary arrests and an increase in human rights abuses. Between December 2022 and September 2023, nearly 300 complaints were filed. The Honduran military forces have acted with impunity, making arrests without sufficient evidence. Moreover, the security crisis within the prison system has deteriorated under military control. Measures such as withholding food and banning family visits have been implemented to address prisoners controlling businesses from inside the prisons.

Castro initially ran on a security strategy emphasizing a community-oriented approach to public safety, reducing the army’s involvement, and combating corruption. These promises marked a significant shift from previous efforts to tackle crime in the area, as they focused on addressing the underlying causes of crime rather than relying solely on a militarized approach. However, Castro ultimately rescinded her campaign promises and implemented a strategy centered on mano dura in response to external pressures to address the crime crisis. The absence of power consolidation in the country hinders the effectiveness of the Bukele model in Honduras. The Honduran government is plagued by corruption within its law enforcement, judiciary, and political institutions. The infiltration of criminal groups into political circles, as exemplified by former president Juan Orlando Hernández, complicates the implementation of such a model without addressing corruption or ensuring institutional autonomy. In Honduras, the economy is smaller, and a larger percentage of the population lives in poverty than in neighboring El Salvador. Security efforts alone will not be effective without simultaneous actions to improve economic conditions, education, and social services. These steps are necessary to address the root causes of participation in criminal activities.

Costa Rica has witnessed a near doubling in its homicide rate in recent years. The country has become part of drug trafficking networks heading north to the United States, and its unique lack of a national army makes it particularly vulnerable to criminal groups’ expansion in the region. Costa Rican security minister Jorge Torres has called for his government to follow in Bukele’s footsteps, and President Rodrigo Chaves maintains a close relationship with Bukele. In 2023, Costa Rica recorded 907 homicides, a 42 percent rise compared to the previous year. Authorities report approximately 340 criminal organizations employing over 200 identified hitmen in Costa Rica, as well as approximately $4 billion being laundered in illegal proceeds. President Chaves has urged Congress to pass laws that ensure the effective dismantling of organized crime groups, as the current laws are too lenient on criminals.

In Colombia, leftist president Gustavo Petro has brought a paradigm shift to questions of public security. However, the country’s narrowly defeated presidential runner-up, the late Rodolfo Hernández, made a preelection pilgrimage to San Salvador to study Bukele’s policies firsthand. The clash of ideas regarding public safety is evident in national and local politics, with increasing backing for integrating aspects of Bukele’s approach. Mayoral candidates in Bogotá and Cali have advocated implementing the Bukele model in Colombia. One of the candidates, Jaime Arizabaleta, announced via X plans to construct “two Bukele-style mega-prisons in Colombia, one in Bogotá and another in Cali” to incarcerate criminals and corrupt individuals. The other candidate, Diego Molano, a defense minister in former president Iván Duque’s administration, emphasized the urgent need for a mega prison in Bogotá with the capacity to hold at least 3,000 criminals. Although neither candidate won their election, their campaigns indicated a growing desire among certain segments of the Colombian population for more aggressive measures to combat crime. The clash of security philosophies will likely remain a key issue in Colombia’s political landscape. As Petro’s unpopularity grows, the chances of a right-wing candidate who advocates mano dura tactics winning the 2026 presidential election increase significantly.

In response to a miasma of violence in January 2024, Ecuadoran president Daniel Noboa declared an “internal armed conflict” against 22 criminal groups he labeled terrorist organizations. Noboa has had a strange relationship to Bukele. The two are not personally close, with Noboa disparaging Bukele as an “egomaniac” to New Yorker reporter Jon Lee Anderson in June 2024. But Noboa is clearly taking notes from Bukele. In short films diffused widely on social media, he seems to mimic Bukele’s rhetoric and even his leather jacket and casual look. Moreover, when Noboa announced he would build a new prison in Ecuador, he declared he would work with the same people and companies that built Bukele’s infamous Terrorism Confinement Center.

In Peru in the summer of 2024, during mayoral races in Lima, the mayor of Lima and center-right presidential hopeful Rafael López Aliaga promised a “Bukele plan” to tackle urban crime in the capital city. Aliaga sent a letter to the Ministry of Defense requesting it deploy national police and military forces to Lima and Callao, urging a “declaration of a state of emergency” to protect citizens. He initially expressed admiration for Bukele’s approach but later shifted his postelectoral security rhetoric, stating that Peru needs a different approach than Bukele’s. When asked about Bukele, Aliaga responded, “Es un tema completamente distinto, el Perú tiene su propia dinámica” (It’s a completely different issue, Peru has its own dynamic).

Argentine security minister Patricia Bullrich has developed a close personal relationship with Bukele. As a response to the difficult security situation in the country’s port city of Rosario, Bullrich made a pilgrimage to El Salvador and spent four days studying the Bukele model. After she returned to Argentina, she removed its security secretary and hired someone more experienced in the Bukele model. While in El Salvador, Bullrich signed a cooperation agreement on security matters between the two countries. President Bukele later visited Argentina, but details on the security-related focus of the visit are scant. According to press reports, the two governments agreed to exchange information on security matters, establish legal instruments, and conduct joint training of security forces.

As far as Chile, which is in the grips of a crime surge, pro-Bukele street parades have made waves on social media. Security has become a major issue in Chile, inextricably linked to rising migration from Venezuela and discussions of the transnational criminal group Tren de Aragua. Chileans now report higher rates of insecurity than residents of Colombia or Mexico—countries historically plagued by high crime rates. Recent opinion polls reveal that 71 percent of Chileans believe crime should be the government’s top priority and are frustrated with President Gabriel Boric’s handling of crime. The main areas plagued by these high spikes are regions such as La Araucanía and Biobío, where a state of exception has been in place since 2023. This measure was first introduced under President Sebastian Piñera and extended under the Boric administration through legislative efforts. These regions have high poverty levels and a significant population of indigenous Mapuche. Crime in these areas is often linked to long-standing grievances between the Mapuche and the Chilean state.

President Boric, who supports the Mapuche cause, initially promised to end the state of exception in Mapuche territory during his campaign. However, since taking office, he has requested multiple extensions, arguing that the ongoing military presence is necessary to maintain law and order. His administration continues to renew the state of exception every 60 days, citing the need to ensure public safety. Despite these efforts, criminal activity in these regions is sometimes hidden under the guise of indigenous activism. Thus far, President Boric has resisted calls for adopting Bukele-style crackdowns, but the political left in Chile has lost popularity, in part due to the impression that it is too lenient on crime. In response to the growing crime crisis, Boric introduced the Nain-Retamal Bill, which expands police powers, increases penalties for crimes against the police, and grants broader self-defense rights. However, this bill has not been enough to address critics who argue Boric is slow to address the crime crisis. One strong critic has been Evelyn Matthei, the mayor of Providencia and the presidential front-runner, who has advocated for appointing a “crime czar” to tackle growing insecurity. However, it is unlikely Chile will adopt or replicate the Bukele model in its entirety, primarily due to the country’s robust institutional framework, President Boric’s pronounced left-leaning rhetoric and policies, and Chile’s historical experience with authoritarian governance.

Beyond these individual politicians, political parties in Argentina, Ecuador, Honduras, Peru, and Uruguay have explicitly incorporated Bukele’s name into their platforms and echoed his tough-on-crime language. Indeed, across all three categories of politicians, the mention of Plan Bukele has become shorthand for successful and popular security policies. In particular, Plan Bukele is synonymous with a rapid decline in homicides, the category of violent crime that politicians typically care about most. Often lost in translation are the differences in context between El Salvador and other countries, the status quo ante in El Salvador, and the role of El Salvador’s two most prominent criminal groups—MS-13 and Barrio 18—in transnational criminal networks. MS-13 and Barrio 18 play only minor roles in transnational drug networks, surviving primarily through the practices of contract killing and extortion. The incongruity between the pre-Bukele criminal landscape of El Salvador and that of, say, Ecuador renders the comparison or any attempt to transplant Plan Bukele into a new context highly suspect and difficult. Nevertheless, these nuances usually escape the political sphere, meaning Latin America is likely to witness many more campaigns and political contexts where the invocation of Bukele’s name in security matters is frequent.

Lessons Learned and Recommendations

Given growing concerns about transnational criminal organizations in LAC, security will likely remain of paramount importance to voters in the region. LAC elections will continue to feature homages to Bukele and his ideas and promote mano dura solutions. The conclusions of this brief demonstrate that how the Bukele model is discussed in LAC is just as important as the details of the plan itself, since the latter are scarcely known by LAC politicians. For now, the Bukele model continues to appear novel and, as such, benefits from being juxtaposed with failed security policies of past eras. The experience of El Salvador indicates that appeals to human rights and the rule of law are unlikely to yield alternatives that successfully attract voters, at least compared to the accomplishments of states of exception. Bukele has made politically effective arguments that the entire country of El Salvador was a prison before he enacted his policies and that insecurity in the streets is a prison in itself. Frequently, he has used the metaphor of a metastasizing cancer requiring an aggressive treatment plan. Further, he has lamented how policymakers previously cared more about criminals’ rights than society’s right to live freely.

Security will likely remain of paramount importance to voters in the region. LAC elections will continue to feature homages to Bukele and his ideas and promote mano dura solutions.

It is important to develop mano dura policy alternatives that acknowledge the dynamic of violence within the region and the need for occasional short-term states of exception but also plan mid- and long-term capacity-building solutions. Without a set of alternatives, policymakers will lack a democracy-preserving solution for growing security threats.

Recommendations

Reduce information asymmetry about the Bukele model. An overabundance of information about the achievements of Plan Bukele will continue to make it a popular approach. There is comparatively less information about the costs associated with the Bukele model: human rights abuses, skyrocketing debt, increases in policy and military budgets, and permanent states of exception. To balance the narrative around the Bukele model, it is crucial to highlight the hidden costs alongside the perceived achievements. While the successes of Plan Bukele, such as crime reduction, are widely promoted, less attention is given to the significant downsides.

Diffuse information about the non-exportability of the Bukele model. LAC countries must have greater appreciation for the unique nature of their security environments. The Bukele model is not transferable to other countries given that El Salvador’s criminal landscape is sui generis. Furthermore, there must be more education about how a key source of the plan’s “success” is to first soften gangs by negotiating with them. Not every LAC country can negotiate with transnational criminal organizations, and voters generally dislike politicians who propose negotiating with gangs.

Invest in rehabilitation. Plan Bukele lacks significant investment in social prevention, particularly in rehabilitation and reintegration programs. Due to mass incarceration, 40,000 children in El Salvador are without one or both parents. This looming crisis may not directly affect Bukele’s administration, but it will create significant challenges for future governments. Investing in rehabilitation, education, and community support is critical to prevent this cycle from worsening.

Promote transparency in security spending. Establish clear mechanisms for tracking and reporting on police and military budgets to prevent corruption and ensure effective utilization of resources. This transparency includes publicly accessible reports on spending, independent audits, and accountability measures for mismanagement. Additionally, the economic impact of unchecked security spending must be considered. Massive investments in security can divert funds away from critical areas such as education, healthcare, and social services, potentially stunting long-term economic growth and deepening inequality. Balancing security with sustainable economic development is essential for future stability.

Expose corruption to highlight the Bukele model’s shortcomings. Exposing the reality of corruption within Bukele’s government is crucial, as one of his primary tactics has been to paint his opponents as corrupt while he positions himself as a reformer. Despite promises to eliminate crime and corruption, evidence shows that high-ranking officials in Bukele’s administration have been implicated in corrupt activities, including money laundering and secret deals with gang leaders. Investigating and exposing these corrupt practices will reveal that Bukele’s model is not a true break from past governance; rather, it perpetuates a system where political favors and illicit activity thrive under the guise of a security crackdown. Transparency mechanisms and investigative journalism are key in revealing these inconsistencies, providing the public with a more balanced understanding of Bukele’s administration.

Base alternatives on tangible security gains instead of appeals to human rights. As a recent profile of President Bukele argues, “The philosophical conundrum presented by Mr. Bukele is that his supporters are, in a sense, eager sponsors of their own oppression, having essentially swapped their rights for quiet streets.” The campaign for alternatives cannot be about protecting human rights, since giving up rights is less tangible than feeling security in the streets. Alternatives must admit the failures of past models and people’s right to feel safe. It must also admit the right of the state to crack down during intense periods of violence while moving away from mano dura in the medium to long term. Medium- and long-term solutions must focus on human rights and rule-of-law concerns, even if the messaging campaign around them does not focus on those elements.

Juliana Rubio is the associate director of the Americas Program at the Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) in Washington, D.C. Andrea Casique is an intern with the Americas Program at CSIS.

This report was made possible by the support of the Bureau of International Narcotics and Law Enforcement Affairs at the U.S. Department of State.

Andrea Casique

Intern, Americas Program