Since 2021, El Salvador’s cultural sector has tightened under the consolidation of personal rule by President Nayib Bukele. The shift coincided with the dismantling of judicial independence, constriction of civil society, and transformation of democratic institutions into instruments of executive control. Following Bukele’s legislative landslide in May 2021, the National Assembly—dominated by his New Ideas party—purged the Supreme Court’s Constitutional Chamber and the Attorney General’s Office, eroding oversight and enabling the legal reinterpretations that framed dissent as disloyalty .wikipedia

By 2022, journalists, educators, and artists critical of the government faced dismissal or intimidation. Official discourse branded critics as “foreign agents” or “gang sympathizers,” an ideological foundation that equated cultural independence with treachery .hrw

Cultural purges and political alignment
In June 2024, the Ministry of Culture announced mass dismissals of around 300 employees for pursuing “incompatible agendas,” a term applied to staff linked with feminist and community programs . The dismissal—executed on June 27, 2024—was confirmed by Reuters and multiple domestic outlets as one of the largest public sector purges in recent years. Vacancies were filled with political appointees loyal to the presidency. State cultural institutions were re‑tasked to “project national unity and security achievements,” reflecting a shift from artistic support to strategic communication.whtc+1

Rather than direct budget diversion to party campaign accounts, the Ministry’s 2025 budget—estimated at US $27 million—was used for high‑visibility state projects such as urban monuments and digital archives, while independent funding streams were curtailed . Officials framed these as “investments in cultural infrastructure,” endorsing initiatives that visibly aligned with the government’s security and identity narrative.latinarepublic

Constitutional reconfiguration
On July 31, 2025, El Salvador’s Legislative Assembly approved sweeping constitutional amendments that removed presidential term limits, extended the presidency from five to six years, and abolished runoff elections . The vote—57 in favor, 3 against—was completed in under four hours and ratified on the same day. International bodies including the Inter‑American Commission on Human Rights warned that these changes eroded the balance of power and enabled indefinite presidential re‑election . By centralizing authority, the reforms made the Ministry of Culture a de facto extension of the executive’s media apparatus, mirroring declines in press and academic freedom.constitutionnet+3

The 2025 Foreign Agents Law
The Foreign Agents Law—adopted on May 20, 2025, formalized government control over international funding for civil and cultural activity. Presented as a “transparency” measure, it requires any person or organization receiving foreign support to register as a “foreign agent,” imposes a 30 percent tax on foreign income, and grants the Interior Ministry authority to suspend entities deemed to “threaten public order” . Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International described the law as a direct attack on free expression.amnesty+2

The law’s passage followed a week of politically charged arrests. On May 13, 2025, police detained community artist José Ángel Pérez and lawyer Alejandro Henríquez during a peaceful art‑based protest against evictions in the El Bosque neighborhood of San Tecla . Human Rights Watch found no evidence to support charges of “public disorder.” Days later, on May 18, 2025, Cristosal’s anti‑corruption director Ruth López was arrested on baseless embezzlement allegations; Amnesty International subsequently named her a prisoner of conscience for her work as a rights defender (Amnesty International, July 2025). The contrast between her designation and the “baseless” cases of Henríquez and Pérez illustrates the law’s political use without suggesting uniform Amnesty recognition.hrw

Administrative censorship and cultural risk
The Foreign Agents Law was rapidly implemented through administrative pressure. Independent galleries and community centers—including spaces such as La Casa Tomada, referenced by civil‑society monitors—were named as potentially at risk of compliance investigations if they continued foreign‑supported projects . Organizers of arts festivals and academic events reported losing permits for failing to register as foreign agents, a requirement that would have subjected content and budgets to Interior Ministry approval. Civil‑society analysts framed this as shifting artistic practice from freedom of expression to state‑licensed activity.cejil+1

International actors described the law as a codified mechanism to silence criticism. Amnesty International called it “a law to silence civil society,” and Human Rights Watch identified it as part of a broader attempt to use legal pretexts to criminalize expression . The timeline of arrests and the law’s immediate approval revealed how activism and culture were regulated through legislation.amnesty+1

RAEX: Bureaucratic surveillance and deterrence
Implementation rests with the Registry of Foreign Agents (RAEX), a centralized bureau within the Ministry of the Interior. RAEX was tasked with monitoring both organizations and individual artists receiving foreign resources . Registration requires sworn declarations, monthly financial reports, and a list of foreign‑backed projects. Officials may approve, deny, or inspect entities without judicial authorization. The International Center for Not‑for‑Profit Law (ICNL) warned that this system “opens the door to intrusive inspections and arbitrary sanctions in violation of international norms” .icnl+1

RAEX also enforces the 30 percent tax on foreign grants and may fine unregistered groups up to US $250,000. Though some state‑aligned humanitarian projects qualify for exemption, most independent human‑rights and cultural initiatives do not. CEJIL and other rights groups argue that the registry creates a climate of coercive surveillance across civil and artistic sectors .cejil

National identity and propaganda
These legal and bureaucratic controls have been reinforced symbolically through Bukele’s branding as the “world’s coolest dictator.” His administration merges populist modernity with militarized nationalism, saturating public space and media with imagery of order and technocratic success. CNN, the Harvard Gazette, and NPR have chronicled this narrative, in which security forces and infrastructure projects are celebrated in murals, festivals, and digital media as symbols of national renewal . Conversely, museums and cultural events are discouraged from addressing the civil war, gender violence, or human rights histories, further narrowing the boundaries of public artistic expression.cnn+2

The transformation of artistic freedom
The erosion of artistic freedom in El Salvador is inseparable from the erosion of democratic checks. Judicial capture, constitutional rewriting on July 31, 2025, and the Foreign Agents Law together have transformed artistic expression from a right into a conditional privilege. Cultural institutions once fostered public dialogue; today, they amplify state branding. Independent artists and organizations navigate a landscape where creative autonomy is measured against loyalty. As legal, financial, and ideological controls converge, El Salvador’s artistic sphere has become not only a mirror of political power but one of its most carefully engineered tools.

In El Salvador, creativity now carries political risk.
Since 2021, President Bukele’s government has redefined the arts as instruments of loyalty—through mass dismissals, constitutional reform, and the 2025 Foreign Agents Law.
This investigation examines how cultural spaces, artists, and educators are navigating censorship, surveillance, and the loss of democratic checks.

#ElSalvador #HumanRights #FreedomOfExpression #Culture #Authoritarianism #ArtsAndPolitics #Democracy #CivicSpace #LatinAmerica