In Summary
Labelling criminal groups as international terrorist organisations acts as a licence for unfounded deportations.
The history of migration from fragile Central American states is in danger of repeating itself. Gang violence and migration are caught in a vicious circle.
The US is externalising its responsibilities through, amongst other things, a highly dubious migration deal between El Salvador’s Bukele and Trump.
“[There are people with a lot of prejudice, a lot of fear of the unknown. They think that immigration is a danger, when in reality it is a solution. It is an interesting topic, because it will become a central issue of our time.] Hay gente con muchos prejuicios, mucho miedo a lo desconocido. Piensan que la inmigración es un peligro, cuando en realidad es una solución. Es un tema interesante, porque será una cuestión central de nuestro tiempo.” – Mario Vargas Llosa, 2002
On 13 April 2025, one of Latin America’s most highly regarded writers, Mario Vargas Llosa, passed away. In the quote above, Vargas Llosa argues that migration is, in essence, a solution – first and foremost for the migrants themselves in their search for safety or a better life – but that people view it as a danger or threat because of prejudice and fear of the unknown.
This quote could not be more timely, for just one day later, Nayib Bukele, President of El Salvador, sat in the White House alongside Trump – who endorsed his views – to refuse the court-ordered return of Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia, who had been wrongfully deported. The reason: President Bukele – who has systematically dismantled every form of checks and balances on his power – claimed, in his own words, that he did not possess that power. The Trump administration states that it will not interfere in a sovereign state. A historically unprecedented event.
Deportations
“We must not allow ourselves to be intimidated by those who wish to take away the freedom we have gradually acquired in the course of civilisation.” – Mario Vargas Llosa, 2010, Nobel Lecture
This call for vigilance against fear, intimidation and the authoritarian tendencies that these can engender takes on new relevance in the light of recent developments surrounding US immigration policy. Trump promised voters mass deportations, but contrary to how the situation may be portrayed in the media, the number of deportations in the first few months of his presidency has fallen compared with the term of his predecessor, Joe Biden.
The tone has, however, changed significantly, as has the nature of the deportations. This is partly due to the designation of eight criminal organisations as international terrorist organisations in February. These include six groups operating primarily in Mexico, the Tren de Aragua from Venezuela, and MS-13, which focuses mainly on Central American countries such as El Salvador.
The ‘terrorist’ label can therefore be a means of curtailing freedom. And this despite experts pointing out that, for example, Tren de Aragua operates very little in the US.
Indirectly, the consequences of labelling organisations as terrorist may be far-reaching in geopolitical terms. After all, terrorism could serve as a motive – or an excuse – for political interference or even military intervention. What appears to be a measure to tackle migration could thus have far-reaching consequences, particularly in a context where US expansionism is no longer taboo.
One direct consequence is that anyone who can be linked to such an organisation may be deported. However, it appears that the threshold for the burden of proof is not particularly high. Simply having a tattoo can sometimes be reason enough. The US Supreme Court, for example, ruled that there was a lack of evidence in the case of Abrego Garcia. Nevertheless, the Salvadoran is being held in the notorious CECOT prison in El Salvador. Bukele is said to have received $6 million for detaining prisoners.
The CECOT mega-prison is a project by Bukele to imprison terrorists, with a capacity for 40,000 prisoners. Over the past three years, some 85,000 individuals have already been detained in El Salvador, often without due process or concrete evidence. International organisations and NGOs, such as Amnesty International, speak of large-scale human rights violations.
It was already known that many Venezuelan refugees are also being detained under such conditions in El Salvador. Now that Bukele has offered his prisons to Trump, deportees from Venezuela and other countries are also being detained in El Salvador as terrorists. The US is outsourcing its migration policy – and with it, its responsibility – to El Salvador and thus, in effect, to Bukele.
“Uncertainty is a daisy whose petals are constantly being plucked.” – Mario Vargas Llosa
Of course, a stricter migration policy consists not only of deportations, but also of regulating the influx of migrants. In this regard, Trump has rejected Biden’s policy, which ensured that migrants from Ukraine and four Latin American countries – namely Venezuela, Nicaragua, Cuba and Haiti – would not gather at the US-Mexican border, but would enter the US legally via prior registration and be allowed to stay for two years.
The policy also stipulated that migrants had to have a sponsor in the US and that both the sponsor and the migrants themselves had to undergo thorough vetting. The policy was initially devised for Ukrainians in response to congestion and problems at the border, and, due to its success, was subsequently extended to Latin American migrants. That is now off the table again. Migrants who have entered the US legally are living in uncertainty.
A repetition of history?
“I abhor every form of nationalism, a narrow-minded ideology – or rather, a religion – that is short-sighted and exclusive, which limits intellectual perspective and harbours ethnic and racist prejudices, because it elevates the mere coincidence of one’s place of birth to a supreme value, a moral and ontological privilege. (…) Nothing has contributed as much to the Balkanisation of Latin America and the bloodshed caused by senseless wars and conflicts as nationalism, whereby astronomical sums have been squandered on arms purchases rather than on building schools, libraries and hospitals.” – Mario Vargas Llosa, 2010, Nobel Lecture
A popular uprising brought an end to the military dictatorship in Guatemala in 1944, after which Juan José Arévalo introduced, amongst other things, universal suffrage and a minimum wage. In his 2019 book Bitter Times, Mario Vargas Llosa describes how Arévalo’s successor, Jacobo Árbenz, attempted to develop a modern, capitalist economy on that foundation. However, his reforms – such as allowing landless farmers to cultivate unused land (a threat to the United Fruit Company, a symbol of economic imperialism and the origin of the term ‘banana republic’) and permitting a communist political party – led to opposition from the US.
The CIA carried out a covert operation that ushered in a decades-long authoritarian regime under Carlos Castillo Armas. The repression and instability led to a civil war from 1960 to 1996, characterised by serious human rights abuses, including genocide against the Maya population, with the government responsible for these acts being supported by the US under the guise of anti-communism. Unsurprisingly, many Guatemalans fled their country.
The US became, in part, a victim of its own actions – or, to echo the quote: its nationalism – by setting in motion a cycle of violence, deportation and migration. A similar scenario unfolded in much of Central America. El Salvador, Nicaragua and Honduras are well-known examples. The refugees often ended up in ghettos in major American cities, such as Los Angeles. The Mara Salvatrucha or MS-13, now designated as a terrorist organisation, was founded there by Salvadorans.
The term maras refers to the transnational origins of these gangs, in contrast to the local origins of the pandillas. When civil wars ended, gang members sometimes returned voluntarily and were sometimes deported to their country of origin. Although it is an exaggeration to claim that the gangs were entirely ‘exported’ to Central American countries – as gangs were already active within those countries – it has been conclusively demonstrated that the gang culture of the US spread to those countries. The young democracies lacked the institutional capacity or the socio-economic conditions to deal with this. As Mario Vargas Llosa pointed out, there were too few schools, libraries and hospitals, but there was an abundance of weapons.
The question is whether the current and forthcoming deportations – particularly where it turns out that the individuals in question are indeed gang members – will now have a different outcome to those in the 1980s and 1990s. The debate on the deportation of migrants now regularly centres on evidence of criminal activity, whether or not linked to gangs. The ubiquitous dichotomy of whether or not deportees are criminals or terrorists diverts the discussion significantly from the question of what the consequences are of deportations and the closure of migration routes, both legal and illegal.
In countries such as El Salvador and Nicaragua, heavy-handed rule is once again the order of the day. I have previously argued that la mano dura will only work in the short term. In Guatemala, the son of the aforementioned Juan José Arévalo, César Bernardo Arévalo de León, is the current president. The president obtained his PhD from Utrecht University with a thesis entitled ‘From violent state to political army: violence, state-building and the army in Guatemala, 1500–1963’. His policies are taking shape with a stronger focus on combating socio-economic inequality and tackling corruption.
Furthermore, his potential disqualification was condemned by Joe Biden, amongst others, due to the threat it posed to democracy. Above all, it indicates that the institutions in these countries are still weak or short-sighted and will need time to strengthen themselves and become more democratic. It is highly questionable whether this time will be granted. Trump, at any rate, does not seem willing to grant other countries that time. Moreover, due to fragmentation and differing policies, there appears to be little cooperation between Central American countries in formulating a response to these events. Mexico could take the lead in this regard.
Lessons for Europe and the Netherlands
“What an extraordinary privilege it is for a country not to have an identity, because it has them all!” – Mario Vargas Llosa on Peru, 2010, Nobel lecture
There may also lie a role for the EU here. Now that global multipolarity has gathered pace, countries such as Mexico and regions such as Europe will have to fill the gap created or left open by the US. There are therefore opportunities for the EU or European countries to forge stronger relations with Central America, particularly now that Central American countries are facing serious challenges as relations with the US become strained. For Mexico specifically, it remains somewhat unclear what the new dynamics will look like (see also: Update March 2025: Mexico). Nevertheless, Europe would be well advised not to wait too long, as China, from the other side of the Pacific, will be keen to fill the gaps left by the US.
A repeat of the historical cycle of deportations, violence and migration, combined with a highly repressive immigration policy in the US and the fragility of Central America, will cause many Central Americans to turn their eyes towards Europe. In particular, Spain will be a logical destination, where Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez still pursues a relatively open immigration policy.
Due to its colonial past, migrants from most Latin American countries are entitled to Spanish citizenship after two years of work and registration with the Spanish local authorities where they live. So far, the Spanish economy has benefited from migration from the continent, but the question is to what extent this system remains sustainable in the face of a very large influx. In any case, it is wise for people – both in Spain and the rest of the EU – to prepare for such a scenario.
Migration deals in Europe are also a topic of discussion. Deals with autocratic regimes, in particular, are under scrutiny. A comparison with El Salvador is therefore easy to make. Europe and the Netherlands are attempting to externalise responsibility through such deals and are also funding autocratic regimes. Just as one might expect the US to scrutinise carefully whether human rights violations are taking place and what the conditions are like, the same should be expected of the EU. If not, violence and insecurity will, in the long term, lead to more rather than less migration, as was also the case in Central America in the past.
Following its highly dubious role in Central American countries, the US has, for example, made a positive contribution to supporting liberal democratic reforms in Guatemala since 1996. It is no coincidence that it was the most dictatorial countries in the region for which Joe Biden had to formulate policy due to capacity issues at the Mexican border. The only structural way to prevent irregular migration in the longer term is to ensure that conditions on the ground are good enough that people do not wish to emigrate. Migration deals must therefore be critically assessed and complemented by socio-economic progress. Turning a blind eye to problems – both internal and external – is not an option.
“Hay, hermanos, muchísimo que hacer [There is, brothers, so much still to be done]” – César Vallejo, 1939, in Poemas humanos