Santa Tecla, El Salvador — In early May, the farming cooperative El Bosque received an eviction notice, reigniting a longstanding struggle for land rights. In an effort to seek help, members of the cooperative gathered for a peaceful sit-in outside the private residence of President Nayib Bukele. The demonstration, however, was met with a heavy police presence, resulting in the arrest of five individuals, including the cooperative’s president, José Ángel Pérez, and his lawyer, Alejandro Henríquez.
The detentions sparked widespread anxiety among the community. Pérez and Henríquez face charges of public disorder under the government’s extended “state of exception,” which has suspended certain constitutional protections, creating a climate of uncertainty for the people of El Bosque. “Our leaders were taken to send us a message: if we organize, we will be next,” said Douglas, a cooperative member who chose to remain anonymous.
Members of nearly 300 families at risk of displacement attempted to join the protest but encountered police barricades approximately six miles away. Those who tried to travel were either turned back or fined $150, leading many to continue on foot. The confrontation intensified as military and riot police intervened, reportedly using force against protesters attempting to defend their leaders.
El Bosque holds significant historical value, having been granted to landless peasants during El Salvador’s civil war that lasted from 1980 to 1992. The land redistribution initiative aimed to advance social justice but has left many communities without formal title deeds, placing them at risk of eviction amid ongoing development pressures.
On the same day as the sit-in, Bukele accused demonstrators on social media of being manipulated by “self-proclaimed leftist groups” and announced a tax change that would impose a 30% levy on all foreign donations to local NGOs. This policy, critics argue, could significantly hamper organizations dedicated to rural and human rights advocacy by limiting funding.
The ongoing state of exception—initially implemented as a measure against gang violence—has been extended over 38 times, now affecting land conflicts and environmental issues. Critics assert that the legal system is being weaponized to suppress dissent. “They have criminalized the right to defend our rights,” stated Ingrid Escobar, director of a humanitarian legal aid organization.
The legal justifications behind the charges against Pérez and Henríquez explicitly cite national security concerns, raising alarms among human rights advocates. The area surrounding El Bosque is not alone in its hardships; across the country, similar land disputes are affecting tens of thousands, as development projects continue to threaten local livelihoods.
Elmer Martínez, a farmer facing eviction by June 20, recounted how his six acres were taken without compensation. “We just want to live where we’ve always lived,” he said, indicating the dire situation for many in his community, which is among at least 45 ongoing similar disputes across the nation.
In Punta Mango, a community settled for over three decades, fisher Rosa Romero expressed frustration over newcomers claiming ownership amid rising tourism pressures linked to the Surf City 2 project. “We just want the government to recognize our right to stay,” she lamented.
Legal uncertainties surrounding land titles, particularly those from the civil war era, have become increasingly contentious. El Salvador’s recent foreign agents law compounds these issues, placing stringent requirements on NGOs and further restricting their ability to operate effectively.
Communities like El Bosque face heightened surveillance, with police presence increasing since the recent arrests. Activists warn that such actions contribute to an atmosphere of fear and despair among affected families. Ángel Flores from the rural advocacy group Milpa criticized the government’s actions, warning that a systematic effort is underway to centralize land ownership under the guise of modernization.
The struggles in El Bosque and similar regions highlight a broader national crisis regarding land rights, raising critical questions about the future of rural communities in El Salvador as they navigate these pressing challenges.
This article was automatically generated by OpenAI, and while it aims to reflect the facts and circumstances accurately, it may contain inaccuracies. Requests for retractions or corrections can be made via email at contact@publiclawlibrary.org.