IMMIGRATION Exodus sparked by fear of the gangs
Most people who try to enter U.S. illegally are desperate to escape some of the most violent places on Earth
SAN SALVADOR, El Salvador — Why did she do it? Why did she travel more than 1,600 kilometres by bus, then ford the Rio Grande with a small band of desperate voyagers? Why did she endure the arid Texas landscape, with nothing but her common-law husband’s black cap to shield her from the sun? It was simple, the woman said. She had already lost two children in the gang-ridden horror that is El Salvador. Her fear, she said, was that the killers “wanted to wipe out the whole family.”
So the couple set out for the United States on May 13, hoping to reach Houston and her only surviving child, who had slipped across the U.S. border a year ago.
They did not make it. Barely an hour after they crossed into Texas, they were captured by the U.S. Border Patrol, separated and locked up. Last week, the mom, her wrists and ankles in chains, was flown with about 100 other would-be migrants back to El Salvador.
Thousands of others are in the same situation, having fled from ultraviolent gangs in El Salvador, Honduras and Guatemala, only to be caught near the U.S. border and sent back under the Trump administration’s zero-tolerance policy.
U.S. President Donald Trump tweeted in June that “illegal immigrants, no matter how bad they may be, pour into and infest our country, like MS-13.”
Yet very few gang members try to get into the United States. In fiscal year 2017, the U.S. Border Patrol carried out 310,531 detentions of people who were in the U.S. illegally, but only 0.09 per cent of them belonged to the gangs operating in Central America, according to U.S. Customs and Border Protection statistics.
Instead, it’s often people fleeing gangs who are trying to get into the United States.
In 2000, U.S. border patrol agents caught 1.6 million immigrants on the southwest border. Of those immigrants, 98 per cent were Mexican, and only about 29,000 came from other countries.
Contrast that with 2017, when nearly 163,000 immigrants from El Salvador, Guatemala and Honduras were caught on the border — and about 128,000 Mexicans.
“These are people who are, for the vast majority, fleeing violence,” said Kathy Bougher, an American researching the human toll of migration. “And they need safety.”
They are people such as the woman who found herself in the immigration centre for “returnees,” plunged once again into the nightmare of being back in one of the world’s most violent countries. “I’m afraid,” she said as she waited to be processed for reentry.
A government official called the names of other returned migrants who were sitting in orange plastic chairs, so their possessions in small mesh plastic bags could be returned to them.
Because of safety concerns, the woman spoke on condition she not be identified. Her long hair twisted into a bun, wearing tight jeans and a white T-shirt smudged across the stomach from the chains she wore on the deportation flight, she said she had no option but to return to her house.
She dreaded returning to a town where a cold-blooded gang exerts control, to a place where gang members routinely force young women into being sex slaves, and kill those who refuse.
Even suspicion of being loyal to a rival gang is a death sentence. Many victims of gangs are often buried in mass graves, never to be found. One day last November, the woman’s 19-year-old daughter stepped out of their home. She was meeting a girlfriend, she said.
“She said: ‘I’ll be back. I’m not going far,’ ” the woman recalled. “But she didn’t return.”
The woman said she went to the police and prosecutors, but they never followed up.
Four months later, her 15-yearold son told her he was going to the store. He, too, never returned, and the mother resolved to leave before she and her partner disappeared, as well.
In El Salvador’s capital, the gang threat isn’t immediately apparent. The barely controlled chaos of traffic zips past hotels, American fast-food restaurants, concrete office buildings and grassy traffic circles.
But along the avenues are narrow streets leading into lowincome neighbourhoods of shacks with corrugated metal roofs, many built by refugees from the country’s 1980-1992 war. They are places where young men who joined gangs in Los Angeles, or formed their own to protect themselves and their community of war refugees, took root after they were deported from the United States back to El Salvador.
Today, youths loiter at these entrances with cellphones to send an alert if police or strangers enter. They’re called “posteros,” named after the cement utility poles, or posts, that are ubiquitous in San Salvador.
Even La Chacra, the neighbourhood or “colonia” where the immigration centre sits behind high stone walls, is controlled by Mara Salvatrucha.
MS-13, as the gang is also known, and the rival Barrio 18 gang have working-class neighbourhoods divided up. They extort money from those doing business in the neighbourhoods. Those who refuse to pay are killed.
Uber driver Jose Antonio Avalos knows better than to drive into one of these colonias.
“I pick up a girl every morning in front of the colonia,” Avalos said, pointing at a narrow opening into a section of La Chacra as he drove by on a main road.
“I can’t enter because they will ask for my ID card. If they see from your address that you’re from a part of the city of a rival gang, they’ll think you’re spying on them and could kill you. If you’re lucky, they’ll tell you to leave and warn you they’ll kill you the next time.”
Fifteen years ago, the Salvadoran government began a crackdown on gangs, resulting in thousands of members being imprisoned. Yet they continued to proliferate, even running operations from behind bars. El Salvador’s defence minister said in 2015 there were 60,000 gang members in the country, compared with a combined police and army strength of 50,000.
Members of the security forces contribute to the violence that is causing the northward migration. Police and soldiers, operating both officially and in some cases with clandestine “extermination groups,” are responsible for an estimated 10 to 15 per cent of the threats and violence, according to non-governmental organizations.
It is estimated that 90 per cent of people who were deported from the United States try to immigrate again within days, said Mauro Verzeletti, a priest who runs shelters for immigrants.
The woman flown back last week said she didn’t know if she’d try it again. First, she had to find out when her partner would be back. He was still detained in Texas.
She was going back to her small house that she thought she had left forever. Asked who was waiting for her there, she looked bereft and answered: “No one.”