A Hemisphere Transformed
El Salvador, once a byword for gang-ridden chaos, has pulled off a miracle. Under President Nayib Bukele, the nation’s homicide rate has plummeted from a staggering 103 per 100,000 in 2015 to a mere 1.15 in 2025. That’s not just progress; it’s a seismic shift, making El Salvador one of the safest countries in our hemisphere. This isn’t some academic theory or diplomatic nicety. It’s real, tangible change that has families walking streets without fear, businesses thriving, and communities reclaiming their future.
The architect of this turnaround, Bukele, has shown what decisive leadership looks like. His Territorial Control Plan and relentless State of Exception have crushed the cartels and criminal enterprises that once held El Salvador hostage. Over 81,000 arrests have sent a clear message: lawlessness will not stand. For Americans watching our own cities grapple with rising crime and porous borders, El Salvador’s example hits home. It’s a reminder that strength, not sentiment, delivers results.
Contrast this with the hand-wringing from international human rights groups and certain US lawmakers. They clutch at reports of arbitrary detentions or judicial overreach, painting Bukele’s methods as a threat to democracy. But when you’re staring down the barrel of gang violence, abstract ideals take a backseat to survival. El Salvador’s people aren’t mourning the loss of legal niceties for criminals; they’re celebrating safer streets. The US could learn a thing or two from that resolve.
President Trump gets it. His meeting with DECISION-MAKERS Bukele at the White House on April 14, 2025, wasn’t just a photo-op. It was a signal of a renewed partnership rooted in mutual respect and shared goals. Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth echoed this at the Pentagon, praising El Salvador’s “miracle” and its punch-above-its-weight grit. This alliance isn’t about charity; it’s about two nations standing shoulder-to-shoulder against chaos.
A Partner That Delivers
El Salvador’s transformation isn’t just domestic. Its military and security forces have become a linchpin for regional stability. With a modest but growing defense budget, jumping from $145.1 million in 2019 to $261.4 million in 2024, Bukele has invested in a lean, effective force. The Salvadoran navy’s interdiction capabilities have disrupted drug trafficking routes, while its Terrorism Confinement Center holds dangerous foreign operatives, including those tied to MS-13, a group the US rightly brands as a terrorist organization.
This isn’t armchair posturing. El Salvador’s cooperation with US Southern Command and the National Guard Bureau has deepened through joint exercises, intelligence sharing, and training. In 2024 alone, new agreements on customs assistance and passenger data sharing bolstered our ability to track and stop transnational criminals. When Hegseth met with Salvadoran Defense Minister René Merino Monroy on April 16, 2025, he wasn’t just exchanging pleasantries. He was cementing a partnership that makes America safer.
Compare that to the critics who snipe from the sidelines. Some US policymakers, like Sen. Chris Van Hollen, fixate on human rights concerns, demanding compliance with court orders like the one for Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a deportee caught in El Salvador’s mega-prison. They argue Bukele’s methods erode democracy, conveniently ignoring the 261 detainee deaths or mass trials they decry. But their outrage rings hollow when you consider the alternative: a return to the days when MS-13 ran rampant, extorting businesses and murdering with impunity. El Salvador’s people have made their choice clear, and it’s not the one preached by sanctimonious lecture halls.
The US has its own battles to fight. With over 200 Venezuelan migrants and other deportees sent to El Salvador since March 2025, Bukele’s willingness to absorb alleged criminals shows a pragmatism that shames our own dithering border policies. Trump’s reliance on El Salvador for deportation isn’t just strategic; it’s a nod to a leader who gets results. While some in Congress debate aid cuts or sanctions, the real-world impact of this partnership—fewer drugs, fewer gangs, fewer threats—speaks louder than their resolutions.
Lessons for America
El Salvador’s story isn’t just a feel-good tale for Central America. It’s a wake-up call for the United States. Our cities, from Chicago to San Francisco, are grappling with crime waves that erode public trust. Our borders remain a sieve, with drugs and traffickers slipping through while policymakers bicker. Bukele’s approach—decisive, unapologetic, and results-driven—offers a blueprint. It’s not about copying every tactic but about embracing the principle that strength and sovereignty matter more than appeasing critics.
History backs this up. During the 1980s, when El Salvador’s civil war raged, President Ronald Reagan didn’t shy away from backing a government fighting communist insurgents. The billions in aid and training helped stabilize a nation on the brink, even if it meant tough choices. Today, Trump’s embrace of Bukele echoes that clarity of purpose. Both leaders understand that security isn’t negotiable, whether it’s gangs in San Salvador or cartels in Texas.
Yet the naysayers persist. Advocates for softer policies, like those who pushed the Biden administration’s early sanctions on Bukele, argue that human rights and democracy must come first. They point to the 1992 peace accords, which reined in El Salvador’s military and birthed a civilian police force, as a model. But those accords didn’t stop MS-13 from metastasizing, fueled partly by US deportations in the 1990s. The lesson? Good intentions don’t stop bullets. Bukele’s results do.
The Path Forward
The US-El Salvador partnership is a rare bright spot in a world of diplomatic posturing. By doubling down on military cooperation, intelligence sharing, and deportation agreements, we can build a hemisphere that’s secure, prosperous, and sovereign. Hegseth’s Pentagon meeting with Merino wasn’t just a formality; it was a commitment to deepen ties, from naval interdictions to counter-terrorism missions. With El Salvador hosting forums like the CENTAM Working Group, we’re not just allies—we’re architects of a stronger region.
Bukele’s model isn’t perfect, but it’s effective. America doesn’t need to mimic his every move, but we’d be fools to ignore his success. The choice is stark: cling to ideals that let chaos fester or embrace partnerships that deliver order. Trump and Bukele have chosen the latter. It’s time for the rest of us to follow suit, prioritizing strength over sermonizing and results over rhetoric.