El Salvador’s most prominent human rights organization, Cristosal, announced on Friday that it is suspending its operations in the country, citing an escalating campaign of government harassment and legal threats. The decision comes after months of mounting tension between the organization and President Nayib Bukele’s administration, which has drawn international scrutiny for its hardline approach to crime and its controversial alliance with former U.S. President Donald Trump.
"The clear targeting of our organization has made us choose between exile or prison," Noah Bullock, Cristosal’s executive director, told the Associated Press. According to Bullock, the climate for civil society has worsened as Bukele has grown more emboldened, particularly through his partnership with Trump. Cristosal, which has spent 25 years defending human rights and promoting the rule of law in Central America, now finds itself forced to leave the country it has long sought to protect.
In a statement, Cristosal explained its decision: "After 25 years of defending human rights in El Salvador, Cristosal announces it is suspending its operations in the country in response to the escalating criminalization of human rights defenders, the imposition of the Russian-style Foreign Agents Law (LAEX), and the weakening of institutional independence." The organization accused the Bukele regime, with the support of the president’s brothers, of dismantling the basic principles of democracy. "Under a permanent state of exception and with near-total control over all institutions, El Salvador has ceased to be a state governed by the rule of law," the statement continued. "Today, expressing an opinion or demanding basic rights can land you in jail. Freedom of expression, peaceful protest, and civic participation have become acts punished and restricted by those in power."
Cristosal’s withdrawal comes against the backdrop of a sweeping anti-gang crackdown that has dramatically transformed El Salvador’s security landscape. Since taking office in 2019, President Bukele has overseen an approximately 95% decrease in homicides, according to Salvadorian crime data, turning what was once the most violent country in the Western Hemisphere into one of the least violent. This stunning turnaround has garnered both praise and alarm. While many Salvadorans credit Bukele for restoring safety, critics argue that the crackdown has come at a steep cost to civil liberties and the country’s democratic institutions.
One of the most contentious elements of Bukele’s security strategy is the Terrorism Confinement Center (CECOT), a sprawling mega-prison that has become notorious for its secretive operations and allegations of abuse. The center has played a central role in El Salvador’s partnership with the Trump administration, particularly in the detention of deported Venezuelan migrants. Cristosal has been an outspoken critic of this partnership, condemning what it describes as widespread human rights abuses at CECOT.
Firsthand accounts from former detainees paint a harrowing picture of life inside the prison. In an exclusive interview with The Advocate on August 17, 2025, Andry Hernández Romero, a gay Venezuelan makeup artist, recounted his ordeal at CECOT. "I want the world to know that being Venezuelan is not a crime," he said. Andry described being subjected to repeated physical abuse, including beatings so severe that he suffered from rib and kidney pain and spat blood. He was taken to CECOT more than ten times, often as punishment for singing.
More disturbingly, Andry reported that guards sexually abused him, which he believed was because he is openly gay. "We all decided to remain silent out of fear that something much worse would happen," he said, reflecting the pervasive climate of intimidation within the prison. According to Andry, he and other detainees endured not only physical violence but also psychological torment, choosing silence over the risk of retaliation.
Other Venezuelan deportees have shared similar stories. Arturo, a singer from Caracas, told BBC News that after one beating, he was unable to sit because his ribs and kidneys hurt so much. "Twice I spat blood. My head was like a punch bag," he recalled. Prisoners were routinely forced to kneel, slapped, hit, kicked—sometimes with sticks—and sprayed with pepper spray. One detainee fainted and struck his head during an episode of abuse.
After about a month of such conditions, the prisoners staged a revolt. Joén, another detainee, described how inmates threw soap and water at their jailers and created a banner using their own blood. The message was stark: "We are immigrants, we are not terrorists. Help. We want a lawyer." The protest escalated into a hunger strike that lasted three to four days, as prisoners demanded better conditions. Yet, according to the detainees, nothing changed.
These accounts have drawn sharp criticism from human rights advocates, but the Bukele administration has consistently denied any wrongdoing. President Bukele has publicly dismissed accusations of human rights violations at CECOT and other prisons. Requests by BBC News Mundo for interviews with the prison’s director and the justice minister went unanswered.
The U.S. government, for its part, has expressed support for the partnership with El Salvador. White House spokesperson Abigail Jackson told BBC News, "The Trump Administration is grateful for our partnership with President Bukele to help remove the worst of the worst violent, criminal illegal aliens from American communities." She added that any further questions should be directed to El Salvador and CECOT.
Within El Salvador, the crackdown has also targeted those who speak out. Cristosal condemned the recent arrest of Ruth López, a lawyer and activist with the organization, who was charged with embezzlement. The Salvadorian attorney general alleged that López "collaborated in the theft of funds from state coffers," according to Reuters. Cristosal, however, framed her arrest as part of a broader campaign of intimidation against those demanding transparency and denouncing corruption. "Ruth is imprisoned for demanding transparency and denouncing corruption. Like her, many others have been criminalized for their work or forced into exile," the organization said.
The exodus of civil society leaders, professionals, and even businesspeople from El Salvador underscores the depth of the current crisis. As Cristosal’s statement put it, the basic freedoms that once defined Salvadoran democracy are rapidly disappearing. For many, the choice is now between exile and imprisonment—a stark reality for a nation that only recently emerged from decades of violence and instability.
Despite the dramatic drop in homicides and the restoration of public order, the cost has been steep. Freedom of expression, peaceful protest, and civic participation—hallmarks of any functioning democracy—have become dangerous acts. As El Salvador’s leading human rights organization leaves the country, the future of civil society and democratic governance hangs in the balance.
For those who have suffered inside CECOT and for the activists who have risked everything to speak out, the message is clear: the struggle for human rights in El Salvador is far from over. But with organizations like Cristosal forced to withdraw, the space for dissent and accountability grows ever smaller.
