Theodore Dalrymple has observed that any nation earning praise from the Economist is a surer sign than any of its imminent demise. By extension, then, damnation from the same publication must stand as a certainty that a nation is doing something very, very right.
In this case, it’s El Salvador and its stunning crackdown on rampant, violent crime. Homicides in El Salvador are down 92 per cent. Naturally, the Economist is aghast.
It is a recipe to make strongmen salivate. Nayib Bukele, El Salvador’s president, has worked out how to chop away democratic restraints while keeping an approval rating of 80-90 per cent. One ingredient is his mastery of social media. The main one is locking up huge numbers of young men.
Crime – violent crime especially – is almost entirely the preserve of young men. Male violent criminals outnumber females four to one. Male violent offending rises sharply in adolescence, peaking at around 20 and rapidly declining from 30 and beyond.
But being young and male is not ipso facto proof of violent criminality, of course. There are other signs, though, especially in the deadly milieu of Central America’s crime gangs.
Since March last year, when Mr Bukele imposed a state of emergency, he has arrested more than 71,000 people, equivalent to seven per cent of male Salvadoreans aged 14-29. Anyone suspected of ties to a criminal gang can be thrown into a crowded jail – indefinitely. Little evidence is required: a suspicious tattoo or an anonymous accusation will suffice.
Here’s the thing: as some have pointed out, gang tattoos are essentially a confession. Certainly, as some have objected, anyone can get a tattoo – but the gangs take a very dim view of such ‘stolen valour’. A non-gang member sporting a gang-related tattoo is going to end up in a ditch or hanging from an underpass, very quickly.
No one, but no one, can wear a gang tattoo, such as are favoured by the likes of MS-13, unless they are a member. And the price of admission to a gang is often murder. “You may never know exactly WHO they killed, but the tat is a confession that he killed someone.”
The courts will eventually find that out. In the meantime, tens of thousands of almost-certain gang members are behind bars.
Mr Bukele glories in brutality, tweeting photos of suspects cuffed, half-naked and packed tighter than battery hens.
Ask Salvadorans who have lived under a reign of gang-imposed fear how much they care.
Outraged liberals must admit that his crackdown has brought benefits. Most touted is a plunge in the homicide rate, which fell from 51 per 100,000 the year before Mr Bukele took office in 2019 to 18 in 2021 (before the state of emergency began) and just eight last year. Analysts dispute how much credit to give Mr Bukele, but he can surely claim some.
More important, he has changed the balance of fear in El Salvador’s extortion-plagued neighbourhoods. Before, if a gangster demanded protection money, civilians paid up or braved a bullet. Few called the police, since gangsters were seldom convicted without testimony that hardly anyone was brave enough to offer. Now, it is the gangsters who are scared. Knowing that an anonymous tip-off can put them behind bars indefinitely, those still at large are in hiding. Their absence has improved countless lives. A study in 2016 found that the annual cost of gang violence in El Salvador was 16 per cent of GDP. Today neighbourhoods are calm and businessfolk have mustered the optimism to open new shops.
Crime down, ordinary citizens free from fear, business peacefully thriving? No wonder the mainstream media are outraged.
Their outrage, though, is notably selective.
He has kept the country in a state of emergency for over a year. He has purged judges who resist him. He is shrinking parliament and tweaking election rules to entrench his party’s majority. He intimidates the press: a new law prescribes jail terms of 10-15 years for journalists who repeat messages from gangs and spread “anxiety”.
Now do the Democrats flooding Washington with hand-vetted National Guardsmen for months, or lockdowns and “misinformation” laws across the Western hemisphere.
Meanwhile, from the US and NZ, the media’s preferred policies for dealing with crime are encouraging a wave of lawlessness. Indeed, the Economist sees Britain’s crime and disorder as a cheering sign that Britain’s class system is being dismantled.
Presumably, the Economist would prefer Bukele buy MS-13 members some KFC and appoint the leaders to oversee drug and domestic violence programs.