Trump and Bukele: A Dangerous Brotherhood in the Making

How the U.S. and El Salvador Are Quietly Crafting a Transnational Playbook for Authoritarian Power

A Calculated Encounter at the White House

In a Monday morning meeting that drew both headlines and alarm, Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele paid a highly symbolic visit to U.S. President Donald Trump at the White House—marking the first such invitation extended to a Latin American leader since Trump’s return to power. More than a diplomatic courtesy, this meeting signaled the deepening of a transactional alliance between two controversial leaders who were reshaping their nations through parallel authoritarian paths.

This bilateral chemistry is rooted in mutual needs. Trump seeks cooperation to execute sweeping deportation plans, often brushing against the edges of legality. Bukele, meanwhile, finds utility in Washington’s financial backing to maintain El Salvador’s overpopulated and internationally condemned prison system.

Human Rights Traded for Political Leverage

This convergence of interests has led to disturbing consequences. On March 16, El Salvador received a U.S. deportation flight carrying 238 Venezuelans and Salvadorans—some with protected legal status. Many were placed in El Salvador’s notorious mega-prison, CECOT, a facility known for its harsh conditions and widespread rights violations. In exchange, the U.S. is reportedly paying the Salvadoran government $6 million annually to house around 300 deportees.

One of those deportees was Kilmar Abrego García, a Salvadoran father from Maryland with no criminal background who had previously won his immigration case in a U.S. court. Despite a court ruling that his removal be withheld, García was mistakenly deported and locked in CECOT. Though the U.S. Supreme Court later ruled that his return should be “facilitated,” officials claim the decision ultimately lies with El Salvador, invoking the principle of sovereignty.

Instead of correcting this apparent injustice, Trump and top adviser Stephen Miller falsely labeled García an MS-13 gang member. They used his case to amplify anti-immigrant fear and justify mass deportations, regardless of individuals’ records or legal statuses.

Two Presidents, One Shared Playbook

Bukele and Trump represent a dangerous convergence of modern authoritarianism. Bukele—who once declared himself the “world’s coolest dictator”—has eroded democratic institutions through mass firings, militarized crackdowns, judicial purges, and sweeping states of emergency that have effectively suspended civil liberties. He won re-election with an 85% majority despite constitutional prohibitions on a second term.

Though lacking the same electoral popularity, Trump mirrors this model in ambition. After a polarizing 2024 victory, he returned to power with plans to fire tens of thousands of federal employees and dismantle labor protections. He continues to flirt with constitutional boundaries—joking about third terms and advancing nativist policies that include threats to deport even U.S.-born citizens.

Both leaders are real estate magnates who have used their presidencies to enrich themselves and their allies. Trump has faced backlash for awarding cabinet roles to business partners and promoting crypto coins tied to his name. Bukele, likewise, has quietly acquired prime beachfront property during his presidency while persecuting the press, especially the investigative newsroom El Faro, which was forced into exile in Costa Rica.

The U.S.-El Salvador Nexus of Far-Right Authoritarianism

The relationship between U.S. and Salvadoran right-wing politics stretches back decades—from U.S. support of El Salvador’s military regime during the civil war to the dollarization of its economy to the current dependence on remittances. These shared histories have paved the way for today’s ideological entanglement between Trump’s MAGA movement and Bukele’s populist authoritarianism.

Bukele’s state of emergency has now lasted over three years. His approval ratings remain high, but critics warn of growing disillusionment and political suffocation. Trump, by contrast, holds a far weaker popular mandate. His approval numbers remain underwater, and he governs a nation that is not facing the security crises that El Salvador has endured.

Nevertheless, Trump seems determined to import Bukele’s model. His administration’s recent policies—including university crackdowns, press restrictions, and targeting of international students—point toward the gradual normalization of a U.S.-style “state of exception.”

Democracy’s Slow Erosion—and the Cost of Silence

Both El Salvador and the United States now stand at a critical crossroads. When executive overreach becomes standard practice, and when public fear is exploited to justify indefinite detentions and mass deportations, democracy is no longer under threat—it is being actively dismantled.

While Bukele maintains his grip through popular consent—at least for now—Trump’s road to authoritarianism depends on a different formula: stoking chaos, scapegoating vulnerable populations, and reshaping democratic institutions through executive power.

If history has taught us anything, it’s that authoritarianism doesn’t arrive all at once. It creeps in under the guise of law and order, fed by apathy, fear, and political ambition. The world must pay attention. Because what begins in one hemisphere rarely stays there.