Amid the bustling streets of San Salvador, where the hum of commerce intermingles with the chatter of a hopeful citizenry, President Nayib Bukele’s audacious vision has taken center stage. El Salvador, once branded by headlines as a haven for gangs and violence, now seeks a new identity—not just as a safer country but as an economic powerhouse. However, as grand as this dream may sound, it prompts the critical question: Is it too good to be true?
A Modern Glow Amid the Shadows
Take, for instance, the gleaming central library in San Salvador, a building so futuristic it might make a spaceship blush. This glass structure, situated snugly between the city’s cathedral and the presidential palace, is more than just a repository of books—it is a symbol of transformation. Children delight in colorful stories, parents quietly observe, and the shelves groan under the weight of an impressive literary collection.
Yet, here lies the twist. This beacon of progress, this jewel in the crown of San Salvador’s modernization, was funded entirely by China—a detail that invites its own complexities. For all the architectural splendor, one cannot help but wonder if this partnership brings progress or entanglement (a polite way of saying strings attached).
Bukele’s Bold Vision
President Bukele, ever the confident statesman, has grander ambitions. “The world must see El Salvador not just as a security miracle but as an economic one,” he proclaims with the fervor of a preacher. His optimism is infectious. Who wouldn’t want to cheer for a country that seeks to rise above its struggles? But the road he envisions, paved with sweeping reforms, requires more than determination—it demands scrutiny.
A Safer El Salvador—But at What Cost?
The foundation of Bukele’s economic plans lies in the stabilization of El Salvador’s security. Official numbers paint a startlingly positive picture: from nearly 4,000 murders in 2017 to fewer than 80 in the early months of 2024. This drastic shift is largely credited to the government’s aggressive state of emergency, introduced in 2022, which led to the arrest of over 80,000 suspected gang members—primarily from the infamous “Mara” groups.
Now, imagine a nation where once-dangerous streets feel walkable again and neighborhoods reclaim their peace. This is the El Salvador Bukele promises. Yet, as the saying goes, every silver lining has its cloud. Human rights organizations and NGOs allege that thousands of innocents have been swept up in this crackdown, their lives disrupted by the heavy hand of justice. The state’s emergency powers, critics argue, have not only targeted gangsters but have also dented the democratic freedoms of ordinary citizens.
Beyond Security: The Economic Leap
Bukele’s vision doesn’t stop at silencing guns. He dreams of an economy that turns heads globally. But to build this, one must ask: where will the funding come from? The library stands as a glittering metaphor for the kind of foreign investment Bukele seems to welcome. Yet reliance on external powers, particularly those with geopolitical motives like China, often comes at a cost that is paid long after the ribbon-cutting ceremonies are over.
The Confident Yet Controversial State of El Salvador’s Industry
It seems that for many in El Salvador, the weight of fear has finally lifted. The Mara gangs, whose reign of extortion once crippled livelihoods, are no longer collecting their infamous “protection money.” Small and medium-sized businesses, in particular, have breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Liberated Businesses and Renewed Optimism
Karla Klaus, director of the German-Salvadoran Chamber of Commerce, paints a picture of hope. “Small businesses were forced to part with a chunk of their income for security. That money could have been used to grow their operations,” she said in a candid remark to DW.
The cost of fear wasn’t just borne by small players. Major German companies, wary of the security situation, packed up and left, leaving a void in investment and innovation. Yet, Klaus notes a shift in the air. A survey conducted among the chamber’s 150 members revealed a palpable confidence spreading through the Salvadoran business community.
“Now, companies are eager to invest in renewable energy, upgrade their machinery, and expand their workforce,” Klaus added. She described this mood as a “spirit of optimism,” a phrase that seems to encapsulate the nation’s current economic atmosphere.
Even Google has joined the bandwagon of hope. In April 2024, the tech giant inaugurated a sleek new headquarters in San Salvador. Its glass-clad structure, glinting in the sun, stands as a modern-day symbol of El Salvador’s aspiration to digitize and modernize.
Riding the Tourism Wave
The government isn’t just banking on businesses to turn the tide. Tourism, with all its glittering potential, has become the next great hope. One flagship initiative is “Surf City II,” a project designed to entice water sports enthusiasts from every corner of the globe.
“We have one of the most spectacular beaches in the world,” declared Bukele with characteristic gusto. Surfers, he claimed, rank it among the best globally—though, in a somewhat Dickensian twist, there isn’t even a proper road leading to it.
The government has pledged $100 million to develop Surf City II, from accessible roads to expanded infrastructure. Additionally, plans for a second Pacific airport aim to lure tourists directly to the sandy shores, bypassing the more tedious routes. Investors are already eyeing the area for new hotels, particularly catering to the global surfing crowd.
The Darker Side of Ambition
However, not everyone is waxing lyrical about these grand plans. Ines Klissenbauer, a Central America expert at the Latin American aid organization Adveniat, is one such voice of dissent. “The ecological damage from this project is staggering, making sustainable development almost impossible,” she argued.
For Klissenbauer and others, Bukele’s tourism ventures echo a familiar misstep: the nation’s infamous Bitcoin gamble.
Bitcoin: A Risky Bet?
Signs that Bitcoin is accepted as legal tender are scattered throughout El Salvador, yet the average citizen has little use for it. Public funds were poured into the cryptocurrency experiment without the transparency such a high-stakes endeavor demanded. Critics, like Ortiz from Adveniat, see it as part of a broader authoritarian project.
“Bitcoin doesn’t address El Salvador’s economic struggles or the real needs of its people,” Ortiz asserted. While it may shine as a symbol of modernity on paper, its utility in lifting everyday Salvadorans out of financial hardship remains dubious.
A Balancing Act Between Hope and Skepticism
El Salvador is at a crossroads. On one hand, there’s an undeniable energy in the air—a sense that change is finally within reach. Businesses are optimistic, the government is investing, and even global giants like Google are setting up shop. On the other hand, the road to an “economic miracle” is fraught with challenges, from ecological concerns to the haunting lessons of failed policies like Bitcoin.
Perhaps Bukele’s El Salvador is like a ship venturing into uncharted waters. The destination might promise riches, but the journey itself is riddled with storms. As the waves rise and fall, one can only hope that optimism doesn’t capsize under the weight of its own ambition.
