by Fr. Matthew Kirby
Recently I became aware of the Abrego Garcia deportation case in America, and this initially due to two conservative commentators' pushback against President Trump's actions. Their objections were based not only on the contempt for the due process required by the rule of law that was shown, but the intrinsic injustice of the treatment of Mr Garcia (and others). But looking into this then sent me down the rabbit hole of CECOT and El Salvadoran prisons more generally. I realise that Fr Hart has preceded me in discussing these events, and wish to add my voice to his, but also to discuss at greater length the situation in El Salvador, a country literally named after our Saviour.
The fact that there has been a crackdown on gangs in El Salvador is not the issue. Even the fact that membership of a criminal gang is effectively treated as sufficient for some imputed guilt is arguably defensible, based on a RICO-style approach. This is perhaps especially the case with gangs like MS-13 that usually have a modus operandi, internal expectations and even initiations which guarantee frequent murder, rape, extortion and more, causing a culture of violence and fear to be imposed upon their host communities.
However, the fact that young men often are coerced into membership initially, including via threats to their family, should still affect the degree and imputability of guilt in any fair trial. But what if trials are indefinitely delayed during incarceration, and the trials themselves are rushed travesties? Those questions bring us closer to the real issues.
So, what are the main issues? The government of El Salvador instituted a "state of exception" that went well beyond the mass arrests of gang members for the purpose of gaining genuine convictions. The judiciary's independence had already been completely undermined, then normal legal safeguards were lifted and prisons were deliberately made more inhumane. Non-accountability in those prisons due to a deliberate denial of access and scrutiny was combined with arrest quotas, the suspension of habeas corpus, limited or no access to lawyers, and remand into custody based at best on procedurally defective mass hearings by compliant judges. There is no doubt that, as a result, the "price" of President Bukele's anti-gang and prison policies, with their corollary gutting of judicial oversight, is accepting that many who are not guilty have been subjected to what amounts to torture, and that only some of these have won or will win their release due to the bias and other deficiencies of the legal system. And even those who do deserve punishment ought not to be tortured or placed in concentration camp conditions either.
No nation that claims any kind of Christian heritage can do these things without falling under God's judgement. The fact that there have been many genuine benefits to the rest of El Salvador's people from its government's approach, for example, much lower murder rates, does not change this truth. And, of course, there is no reason to believe that turning prisons into torture chambers is at all necessary for reducing the murder rate in the wider community. Getting the gangs off the streets is of itself sufficient for that. Whatever extra social benefit by way of deterrence the government feels it gets from the gratuitous infliction of suffering is bought at the price of mortal sin.
Christians are not utilitarians. Good ends do not justify intrinsically evil means. Compare Bukele's actions with the philosophical thought experiment of a happy,utopian city maintained by the suffering of one innocent, miserable little child. This idea is mentioned in Dostoyevsky's The Brothers Karamazov and explored in the short story "The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas", written by Ursula K. Le Guin. People still argue about whether the latter author was trying to condemn utilitarianism through heavy irony or simply challenging readers to face the ethical dilemma without intending her own answer. But, whatever the author's intentions, Christians can have only one assesssment of Omelas and only one decision about how they should respond if, like the young citizens of that city, they were brought to the lonely, suffering child and told it's supposed significance for the city. They must condemn the city and its "happiness" as a bastion of Hell, and proclaim its purported compassionate sensibilities to be shallow sentiment that hides a substance of complacent evil. And they must say, with all their heart, "Let Omelas and its pleasures fall into dysfunction and ruin, let its people face their own messy futures, but I will reach out to this little one with love and rescue it from Hell." To do otherwise would risk being a child of Hell oneself, under God's holy curse.
The statements of the government in defence of their policies prove that they are aware many innocent people have been and some are still being subjected to their vicious incarceration regime. And the President has also made statements that evidence a deliberate vindictiveness in his approach to managing those prisons. The recent arrests of two human rights advocates critical of regime seem to provide more evidence of this vindictiveness.
CECOT is the prison recently built to house the worst criminals, and deliberately constructed to be as stark and hopeless as possible. Ironically,it has more international scrutiny than other Salvadoran jails, more out of curiosity than compassion, but even this access is tightly controlled, and so grossly inadequate. A priori, absent oversight, and given the governmental labelling of inmates as terrorists and equivalent to Nazis, we can more or less guarantee that this approach ensures abuses will occur in these places. And the evidence that has come in (despite restrictions such as no interviewing of prisoners) from those who have been released and from deaths in custody that have been investigated confirms this abusive environment. What are some of these abuses?
In the general prison system:
- beatings,
- overcrowding sometimes to the point of forcing sleeping standing up,
- deficient diet deliberately causing malnourishment,
- insufficient medical care causing or exacerbating disease,
- and deliberately withholding medication.
In CECOT particularly:
- no meat whatsoever in the diet,
- no access to family visitation or lawyers
- no outdoor activity or exposure,
- indoor release from cells limited to half an hour per day,
- minimal and unhygienic toilet and washing facilities,
- no provision of mental or physical recreation materials (e.g., books, sporting facilities),
- torturous isolation cells for punishment with no light at all,
- and deliberate dehumanising of inmates.
What should Christians do? I believe the churches there, with the backing of their international brethren, should unite to demand genuine access into these places both for ministry and as mediators of other aid: legal, medical, and food. And we should persistently advocate for the restoration of fair and competent legal processes and the rejection and reform of the system of "prison-as-torture" which has been fostered. Indeed, it would be a wonderful thing if the new Pope were to urgently seek permission to visit CECOT and other prisons in the country, to bring a beacon of hope.
I am "Neville Nobody" and so I do not know how my small voice from another country, another continent, can make a difference in this matter. But I feel I must at least speak up in this public forum, hoping that this cri de coeur will join with that of others and spread, until both justice and mercy flow forth.
If the churches were successful in gaining proper access to CECOT and other Salvadorian prisons and I were tasked with addressing those detained therein, I think it might go something like this:
"Many of you may have done vicious things causing untold suffering. Some of you shouldn't be here at all. But in either case, I am here to tell you that, whatever you have or haven’t done, you are not refuse, you are not animals, you are not forgotten and you are not abandoned. You are human beings, made in God’s image, and you matter. If you have not already repented of your sins in genuine sorrow, I appeal to you to do so, but I think many, perhaps most of you, have already asked God to forgive you. We come to bring grace, not further judgement, and to bring hope. We do not know what influence we can bring to bear, but we will advocate for you, including for better food and medicine, more recreation and healthy activity, more access to Nature outside these walls and to family, and more humanity. And we will, if we are not prevented by sinful men, keep coming back here to help you. Though it may seem impossible to believe, especially as things are right now, you are loved, you are in our hearts."
Pax et bonum.
