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On July 30, El Salvador’s Congress—controlled by President Nayib Bukele’s Nuevas Ideas party—approved indefinite presidential reelection through an express constitutional reform.
It’s an old tactic used by the dictatorships of Venezuela and Nicaragua to justify keeping their strongmen in power, but in El Salvador’s case, Donald Trump’s administration in the United States considers it a democratic mechanism — despite the fact that it violates the Inter-American Democratic Charter and contradicts a ruling by the Inter-American Court of Human Rights.
In an interview on Esta Semana, broadcast on CONFIDENCIAL’s YouTube channel, we spoke with political analyst Daniel Zovatto, director of Radar Latam 360, about the implications in Latin America of Bukele’s indefinite presidential reelection with Donald Trump’s political backing.
“It’s serious because of the mirror effect it has in Latin America: El Salvador under Bukele is a laboratory for building the new 21st-century authoritarianism, which I call efficracy — built on popularity driven by results,” said Zovatto.
“It’s a populist authoritarian system, highly sophisticated in terms of communication,” Zovatto explained, in which these leaders “gradually colonize all other branches of government from within the state to secure absolute control. From there, they reform the Constitution to allow themselves to remain in power indefinitely,” he summarized.
The Salvadoran Legislative Assembly, controlled by President Nayib Bukele’s party, approved a constitutional reform establishing indefinite reelection. What does this indefinite presidential reelection mean for El Salvador and for Latin America?
It’s terrible news for El Salvador, for Salvadoran democracy, and it’s also very bad news, because of the mirror effect, for Latin America — especially due to the shameful complicity of the Trump Administration, which, far from condemning a reform that enables indefinite presidential reelection.
The reform shortens the presidential term that was supposed to end in 2029 to 2027. This could be interpreted as a democratic gesture — but no, it moves it to 2027 to align the presidential election with congressional and local elections, using the president to create a coattail effect. It also replaces the runoff with a single-round vote, which makes it easier to win by a narrow margin in the first round, and it extends the presidential term from five to six years. The Trump Administration congratulates Bukele and El Salvador for this reform, which it considers to be a reform carried out within democracy.
Taking into account President Bukele’s enormous popularity in El Salvador and in other Latin American countries, why is indefinite reelection undemocratic? Bukele said that most developed countries — which are parliamentary regimes — allow indefinite reelection. And he says: They’re questioning me because it’s an attempt to limit El Salvador’s self-determination.
How many times have we heard this argument? Remember Evo Morales, who even claimed that prohibiting his indefinite reelection was a violation of his human rights.
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From a political standpoint, popularity is not synonymous with legitimacy. Bukele is a president who lacks legitimacy of origin — he was unconstitutionally reelected in 2024 — and only has legitimacy in the exercise of power. He has concentrated all branches of power, even if they are formally maintained, but he controls them entirely. He is more like a sheikh than a democratic president. He has violated a core principle of the Inter-American Democratic Charter in Article 3: the separation of powers. On this point, Trump and his Secretary of State, Marco Rubio, should have taken note.
There is an advisory opinion from the Inter-American Court of Human Rights — 28/21, issued four years ago — on indefinite reelection. It was requested by the Colombian government at the time, and the Court made three key findings. First, indefinite reelection is not a human right recognized in the American Convention on Human Rights. Second, limiting reelection to only one additional term — which is generally the standard — does not violate the guarantees of the Convention. Third, indefinite reelection is dangerous because it strengthens hyper-presidentialism, further concentrates power in the Executive, weakens the separation of powers, reduces the possibility of alternation in power, and undermines pluralism.
Another false argument from Bukele is that 90% of developed democracies have reelection. That’s true, but 90% of developed democracies do not have presidential systems; they have parliamentary systems. Reelection in a parliamentary system is not the same as in a hyper-presidentialist regime. In parliamentary systems, a vote of no confidence can change the government, constitutional courts are fully independent, and the military maintains complete autonomy from the Executive. In Bukele’s system, there is no independent judiciary, the military has been co-opted and is one of his main allies, and the separation of powers has been blatantly broken.
The last argument came from his cousin Xavier Zablah, president of the ruling party Nuevas Ideas, who invoked the syndrome of the indispensable leader: “Bukele is the only leader who can take El Salvador down the path it’s on.” A kind of savior of El Salvador, an indispensable man. We’ve heard all these arguments before in Latin America—they’re false and always end the same way: consolidating an increasingly authoritarian regime that sooner or later falls into crisis, like Fujimori, Chávez, and a long list of other leaders.
Another justification the Trump administration gave to support Bukele’s indefinite reelection was that it originated from a democratic decision by the Salvadoran Congress. Secondly, they said it’s different from the dictatorships in other parts of Latin America where reelection is defined and limited. We see that in Nicaragua with the Ortega-Murillo dynasty, and in Venezuela. It was imposed in Bolivia at one point but was later reversed. What’s the difference today between Bukele’s dictatorship and those in Nicaragua and Venezuela?
From a political regime perspective, the essential characteristics are quite similar. Obviously, in El Salvador you still don’t have the same level of political persecution or number of political prisoners that you see in what I consider the worst case, Nicaragua, where the Ortega-Murillo marital dictatorship has not only imprisoned political opponents but carried out brutal repression resulting in over 350 deaths in April 2018, expelled more than 400 prominent figures—including yourself—and stripped many of their nationality. When you compare the situation in El Salvador to Nicaragua, it clearly isn’t at that level yet. But that doesn’t mean Bukele hasn’t already begun his repression. He’s not just going after criminals; he’s targeting human rights activists. Ruth López, one of the main human rights defenders and a highly qualified lawyer exposing corruption within the regime, is imprisoned completely arbitrarily. Cristosal, a highly respected NGO, had to close its offices in El Salvador due to persecution. Many journalists had to leave the country between May and June 2025 to avoid imprisonment. El Faro has been the target of harassment, persecution, and surveillance. Civil society’s space is closing down under the so-called “foreign agents” law, which requires NGOs to get permission and pay a 30% tax if they want to operate—very similar to a law Russia passed in 2012, which has also been adopted recently by countries like Nicaragua and Venezuela.
The regime clearly has all the characteristics of an authoritarian government. The United States says it was approved by Congress. Yes, Congress did approve it, but the U.S. overlooks that in January 2025, that same Congress made a very important decision—abusing its majority of 60 deputies (down from 84 before reforms in 2024, which were precisely designed to increase control over Congress). With this fully controlled Congress, in January 2025 they changed the process for amending the Constitution. Originally, Bukele’s plan was to adopt a new Constitution. But then someone apparently told him, “Why go through all that trouble? If you just change the way constitutional reforms are made…” Until January, one legislature would pass a reform, and the next legislature would have to ratify it. Now it’s a fast-track reform—like what happened—where in just minutes, using the absolute majority’s steamroller, a single legislature can amend the Constitution. All these changes were made in just 15 minutes. That’s the real problem.
With the Trump Administration’s endorsement of Bukele’s indefinite re-election, what can we expect from the Organization of American States (OAS), which has traditionally been the forum for Latin America and the continent to debate these issues? You just mentioned that this clearly violates the Inter-American Democratic Charter. Could the OAS today actually apply the Democratic Charter to Bukele for this blatant violation and for contradicting what the Inter-American Court of Human Rights has ruled? With the current leadership, the Trump presidency, and the political balance in Latin America, can the OAS respond to the establishment of this new dictatorship?
The serious problem is that it’s not only the OAS under the new secretary, Albert Ramdin, with Trump in the White House and Marco Rubio at the State Department, but also the previous OAS leadership. I actually had conflicts with the previous Secretary General, Luis Almagro, because he accused me of seeing authoritarianism everywhere—I’ve been warning for a long time that Bukele was heading down an authoritarian path. The Inter-American Democratic Charter should have been applied to him. The Inter-American Democratic Charter should have been applied to him. In 2021, when Bukele’s party won the majority in Congress, on the very first day and within hours, with that majority, Bukele removed the Attorney General and replaced all the members of the Constitutional Chamber—the very chamber that later reinterpreted its own prior rulings and allowed him to seek an unconstitutional re-election in 2024.
This all happened right in front of us, in front of the previous Biden administration, and the former OAS Secretary General—and now it has culminated in this deadly blow, this absolute turning point.
Christopher Landau, the U.S. Deputy Secretary of State, at the recent OAS meeting in Antigua and Barbuda with new Secretary Ramdin, told him: “You are not doing anything in favor of democracy.” He mentioned the situation in Venezuela and the tragedy in Haiti, but at that moment he did not mention El Salvador.
Mr. Landau, Mr. Rubio, Mr. Trump — what is democracy? Because for the entire hemisphere, there are a series of requirements. Those requirements are not met in El Salvador; therefore, what you’re doing is really applauding your own jailer in Central America.
In transactional foreign policy, of international bullying, blackmail, and constant negotiation, Trump is trading democracy for detention at the CECOT (Center for the Confinement of Terrorism). —“I send you the undesirables, and the good friend Bukele has offered himself to his friend Trump — I’ll take everyone you send me and act as your jailer.” That’s how Bukele became the only Latin American president invited in these 200 days since Trump’s return to the White House, the only leader officially received and met with Trump at the White House, with both showering each other with praise.
This sends a message of utmost concern. To me, it’s the most serious situation because the other dictatorships are completely delegitimized and discredited. They only hold on through bayonets and repression. But in El Salvador’s case, it’s dangerous because Bukele has significant popular support — though that popularity is not the same as democratic legitimacy.
In these contradictions between Trump’s presidency and the OAS itself, if the OAS lacks the ability to deliberate and enforce the Democratic Charter on El Salvador, it would simply be confirming the total irrelevance of this democratic institution. You mentioned the contagion effect from El Salvador. For example, here in Costa Rica, there are elections in February 2026, and the outgoing president, Rodrigo Chaves, is calling to dismantle democratic institutions. What difference would such actions have in Costa Rica compared to El Salvador?
A very negative and dangerous element in this Salvadoran laboratory for building 21st-century authoritarianism is what I’ve called “eficracy.” It’s a populist authoritarian system, very modern and sophisticated in communication and social media, that takes advantage of the complete discredit of previous political parties and the public’s justified disdain for the party system. From that emerges these leaders who deliver results on the issues that matter most to the population—in El Salvador’s case, public insecurity.
Based on that, they build popularity and support, and then turn that popularity into electoral backing, gradually colonizing all the other branches of government from within to gain absolute control. From there, they reform the Constitution to allow themselves to stay in power indefinitely. Bukele is 44 years old—meaning if things go well for him, he could be in power for the next 40 years. Bukele built his authoritarian regime between 2019 and 2025, in just six years, whereas it took others many more years because he found a way to deliver results—and now he’s found a new advantage in solid support from Donald Trump. That’s why the situation is extremely dangerous.
In the case of Costa Rica, we’ll have to see how it ends. The current president (Rodrigo Chaves) now faces an investigation by a Legislative Assembly Commission, which must decide whether to strip him of his immunity. If they do, he’ll have to face trial. He has said he won’t leave Costa Rica, that he will face whatever comes, and that he won’t stay silent. It’s important to remember that Chaves didn’t just receive Bukele in 2024—he also awarded him a decoration. So, what until recently was one of the highest-quality democracies in the region, alongside Uruguay, ends up honoring an authoritarian like Bukele, as if to say, “This is the example, this is the direction we should go.” That’s the serious part of what we’re seeing—not just that another authoritarian regime applauds Bukele, but that a democracy like Costa Rica’s pays tribute to and decorates an authoritarian leader like him.
