For decades, life choices were bleak for many in El Salvador: Leave or die. Dubbed the “murder capital of the world,” there was an average of a homicide an hour in early 2016, in this country of just 6 million people — two million fewer than call New York City home. Gang warfare drove an exodus of Salvadorans, mostly north to the US. But now, the security situation is so different that people are returning, even after building good new lives over decades in the US.

Deported, and now grateful

When Victor Bolaños and his wife, Blanca, lost their asylum case in a US immigration court, their ‘American dream’ came crashing down. When they agreed to accept a voluntary departure order, the couple knew they had to leave behind the life they had been building for over 15 years in Denver and return to their native El Salvador and the conditions that had made them flee.

“We came back 6 years ago, and everything was unsafe,” Victor recalls, seated in the modest home the couple now shares in the capital, San Salvador. At 65, his voice carries the weight of what they faced upon their return in 2018. “When we came back the situation seemed difficult because of the insecurity, lots of robberies, lots of gangs.”

But a couple of years after their return, something unexpected happened. The relentless daily violence eased, and streets began to calm. The suffocating fear that had defined daily life started to fade.

El Salvador, once synonymous with violence and waves of emigration, saw a dramatic drop in crime. For many citizens, this shift offered more than just safety — it offered much needed hope. The world, too, took notice. Suddenly, the small Central American nation seemed to be reinventing itself under Bukele, who was elected President in 2019 at the age of 37. When his New Ideas party later took control of Congress, it was easier for rules to be bent or broken. Bukele won re-election, even though the country’s constitution had barred anyone standing for a second term. A “temporary” state of emergency granting authoritarian powers of detention is now more than two years old. Human Rights Watch says that even children are being caught up in “severe human rights violations.”

Yet in San Salvador, Blanca sits in her living room, carefully crafting handmade jewelry. “Now, one feels safe, freedom is felt in our country,” she says.

She and her husband, Victor, say the improved security has allowed them to start a small jewelry business from their home, something that once seemed impossible. “Now you can have a business, if you look, there are entrepreneurs everywhere in the country,” Blanca says, reflecting on how, not long ago, gang extortion would have crippled any such venture.

For decades, people from Central America, particularly from the Northern Triangle of El Salvador, Honduras and Guatemala, have fled violence and insecurity, seeking protection and opportunity in the US. But new data from US Customs and Border Protection (CBP) reveals a surprising trend — fewer Salvadorans are now heading north.

In 2022, CBP recorded more than 97,000 encounters with Salvadoran citizens at the Southern Border. By 2023, that number fell to just over 61,000, and 2024 is on track for an additional decline compared to 2023.

While these numbers may appear promising, the root causes of migration remain complex.  Many Salvadorans still leave their country due to economic hardship and lack of opportunity. Although El Salvador’s economy has shown slow, steady growth since Bukele took office, according to the World Bank, the nation still struggles to provide sufficient opportunities for its citizens.

Leaving Houston to build a beach resort

For the past 27 years, Diego Morales has built a life far from home. The 48-year-old real estate investor, husband, and father of three left El Salvador in 1997, chasing the safety, stability, and opportunity that the US had to offer. The idea of returning had never crossed his mind — until the grim stories of violence that had haunted his homeland for so many years were replaced by tales of newfound safety.

Diego’s childhood was marred by a constant sense of danger.  “I’d wake up, go to school and find dead people on the street,” he recalls, his voice bearing the burden of the painful memories as he sits inside his well-kept, suburban Houston home.

But today, El Salvador is no longer the country he fled. “Now it’s safe and many people are going back,” Diego says, his words a reflection of the optimism spreading among Salvadorans and others abroad.

The country’s reputation has dramatically shifted. Once known for violence, El Salvador is now attracting waves of investors. “Many people, even Americans … we have friends from Florida, from Austin, from Hawaii, looking to buy (property),” he says, a sign of just how far the nation has come.

Diego himself is preparing for a return to the land he once left behind. He has already invested in Tamanique, his hometown about an hour’s drive from the capital, where he built a beach resort that he now runs remotely.

Along the Salvadoran coastline, you can find beach towns like El Tunco, El Zonte, and La Libertad buzzing with new construction, capturing the attention of tourists and real estate developers eager to capitalize on the country’s rebirth. Cliffs that were once gang lookouts are now being considered scenic locations for hotels.

“As soon as President Bukele brought security to this country, everything went up (in value),” Diego says, adding that land that cost around $100,000 five years ago is now going for ten times that price.

And the Salvadoran dream is not just his — his 23-year-old son, Jairo, a natural-born US citizen also plans to follow in his father’s footsteps. “We’ve had conversations… it’s already starting,” Jairo says, his eyes lit with the promise of returning to his roots.

El Salvador’s government is courting those who left with a program of tax exemptions on belongings and vehicles for citizens who return home. Since 2022, nearly 19,000 Salvadorans have moved back under this initiative, according to government figures.

‘No mercy’ for gang members

A decade or so ago gangs like MS-13 and Barrio 18 terrorized communities, extorting businesses and waging brutal turf wars over control of neighborhoods, and El Salvador was the most violent nation in the Western Hemisphere, according to InSight Crime.

But something extraordinary has happened since then. By 2022, the number of murders began to drop dramatically, and the next year there were 154 homicides — a staggering 97.7% decrease compared to 2015, according to government figures. Bukele even tweeted that his country’s homicide rate was the lowest in all the Americas.

The sharp decline followed Bukele bringing in emergency measures giving police the power to detain suspects without charges for up to 15 days and deploying the military across the nation. The new rules, which are still in effect, allowed an unprecedented crackdown on gang activity, with more than 80,000 people detained since the state of emergency began in March 2022.

Central to this effort is the newly constructed “Terrorist Confinement Center,” or Cecot, a massive prison complex with the capacity to hold up to 40,000 inmates. The maximum-security prison currently holds 14,000 gang members — all accused of having murdered at least one person. Images from Cecot show tattooed men with their heads shaved in a warehouse-sized concrete room filled with metal bunks, or sitting in tight rows on the ground, wearing nothing but white shorts, their heads bowed and hands behind their backs. And, according to Salvadoran authorities, those sent to Cecot will never be released.

Villatoro’s words echo the brutal reality El Salvador has faced for years. He claims that gang members were required to kill at least one person as part of their initiation into groups like MS-13 or Barrio 18.

“Imagine a serial killer in your state, in your community, being released by a judge, how would you feel as a citizen?” he asks. “We don’t have facts that someone can change the mind of a serial killer, and we have more than 40,000 in El Salvador.”

The government’s hardline approach was not spontaneous; it was meticulously planned. Villatoro and members of Bukele’s cabinet had begun studying the gangs as early as 2017.

“Before you start a war, you have to know your enemy,” he explained.

While the government’s relentless campaign has been praised by many for restoring peace, it has also attracted significant criticism. Human rights groups have accused the Bukele administration of widespread abuses in its battle against the gangs. Villatoro, however, dismisses these claims, asserting that the focus should be on the victims, not the criminals.

“What about the society, the good citizens that you have in the country … Where were (these human rights groups) when we lost 30 Salvadorans in our country a day?” he asks pointedly.

Bukele himself has been unflinching in his rhetoric. In 2022, he famously challenged human rights advocates, telling them to “take” the gang members if they cared so much. “Come pick them up — we’ll give them to you, two for the price of one,” he declared.

The president’s iron-fist approach to security has earned him praise from some US conservatives, who have openly applauded Bukele’s tactics. However, at this year’s Republican National Convention, former US President Donald Trump took an unexpected swipe at Bukele when addressing the country’s newfound safety.

“In El Salvador, murders are down 70 percent. Why are they down? They’re down because they’re sending their murderers to the United States of America,” Trump claimed, offering no evidence to support his statement.

“No,” Villatoro replied. “The problem with that, you (Trump) don’t have facts, you don’t have evidence, but instead, we have evidence of where we put our terrorists,” the minister said, referring to Cecot, the massive prison where thousands of gang members are held

In other detention centers, lower-ranking gang members and other criminals are tasked with fixing what the gangs broke and erasing their presence. Some inmates are sent to rebuild homes while others smash tombstones commemorating underworld leaders.

Jailed ‘for having long hair and tattoos’

In early 2024, Juan Carlos Cornejo found himself swept up in Bukele’s mass arrests after an anonymous call to the police accused him of “illicit association.” Hours later, he was in jail, confused and terrified.

Juan Carlos believes he was targeted simply because of how he looked.

“I was accused of illicit association, but I have nothing to do with that. I like music, rock, so my appearance was different. I had long hair,” he said from his dimly lit, mosquito-ridden home in Santa Ana, a city about 35 miles from the capital. “I have tattoos, but these are artistic expressions,” he said, his frustration palpable.

“There was no investigation, nothing,” he claims.

Juan Carlos was in prison for five long months. Before his detention, he had been working as a veterinary assistant, treating sick or injured pets, and he insists he had never been arrested before.

His release came only after Socorro Jurídico Humanitario (SJH), a group dedicated to providing legal counsel in cases of human rights violations, successfully filed a writ of habeas corpus on his behalf. But Juan Carlos’ story is far from unique. According to SJH, between 33,000 and 35,000 people have been “detained in an arbitrary manner without any justification” since the state of emergency began.

Despite widespread criticism of these tactics, the Bukele government stands firm. Officials argue that these measures — though harsh — are done lawfully and are necessary to secure the country’s future. And they highlight efforts to rehabilitate tens of thousands of inmates convicted of lesser crimes.

Armed soldiers on the streets — and thanked

Critics argue that Salvadorans have traded freedom for security, but the people we met say they have never felt so free. There’s the mother laughing as she takes her skipping toddler to the park, not afraid of getting caught in a gun battle or stumbling over a corpse or having to pay the gang extortion “rent” to simply enter her own neighborhood. There’s the father, no longer worried his son will be recruited by gangs. Unlike in places like Cuba or China, where residents can seem nervous to criticize repressive regimes, in El Salvador the optimism appears real.

Teresa Lilian Gutierrez is caught in the middle, and her experience shows the many complexities of life in El Salvador today.

“Now it’s safe, it’s calm,” she told us on a street in La Campanera, once among the most dangerous neighborhoods in San Salvador. “Before no one would visit, not even family.”

But her son who helped her financially is not able to visit, she said.

“He’s been detained for two years in Mariona (prison). He is not a gang member, he was taken in the state of emergency,” she said, showing pictures of her son working as a cashier in a restaurant.

“I ask the government to get him out, please … I spoke to the lawyer last year because they were going to release him, but she said no, they’re not going to give him to me,” she said.

President Bukele enjoys one of the highest approval ratings in Latin America, a sentiment echoed by the people we meet while with the Salvadoran army touring a once gang-infested area outside San Salvador.

Armored cars and uniformed soldiers are no longer terrifying reasons to run but chances for curious children to ask questions or for supporters to grab a selfie.

“It was so bad before, you couldn’t go anywhere,” one woman says, beaming as she snaps a picture with Defense Minister René Merino, who has become a symbol of the government’s hardline security strategy. A few years ago, no one in this area would have looked members of the police or army in the eye, Merino said, but now it’s all changed. Moments later, another resident steps forward, and thanks the minister and poses for a photo, apologizing for interrupting our interview.  In what feels more like a victory parade  than a law enforcement patrol, we stop dozens of times over the course of a couple hours as residents excitedly relay their gratitude.

But the looming question is: what happens after 2029, when Bukele’s term comes to an end? In a recent interview, the president declared he would not seek a third term, leaving many to wonder about the future.

For some, like Blanca Bolaños, the answer is already clear. “I voted for Nayib this time, and the last, and if he runs again, I will vote for him,” she says with unwavering conviction.

As the country grapples with its transformation, Bukele’s legacy and controversial tactics will be tested. Whether El Salvador’s newfound stability endures or falters, only time will tell. But for now, among those who say their lives have been changed, there is little doubt: they believe in Bukele, and they would follow him again.

Russian President Vladimir Putin told reporters Thursday that allowing Ukraine to use long-range missiles to strike inside Russia would be seen by Moscow as NATO’s direct entry into the war.

“This will mean that NATO countries – the United States and European countries – are at war with Russia. And if this is the case, then, bearing in mind the change in the essence of the conflict, we will make appropriate decisions in response to the threats that will be posed to us,” he said.

According to the Russian president, “the Ukrainian army is not capable of using cutting-edge high-precision long-range systems supplied by the West” without Western assistance in targeting.

The United States already does provide intelligence to Ukraine, and has previously assisted in the targeting, although not with the long-range systems currently being considered.

According to Center for New American Security Senior Fellow Dr. Stacie Pettyjohn, there may also be other intelligence resources available to Ukrainian forces, including commercial satellite imagery, depending on the target.

In a press conference on Thursday, Secretary of State Antony Blinken reiterated that, as part of continuing military assistance to Ukraine, the United States provides intelligence to Ukrainian forces, but declined to answer whether the US would increase its intelligence sharing.

The United States first provided Ukraine with long-range Army Tactical Missile System (ATACMS) missiles, which have a maximum range of approxmiately 186 miles, in October of 2023. Kyiv has long advocated its backers to allow the use of weapons systems that would provide a longer reach inside Russian territory.

Michael Callahan, Natasha Bertrand, and Oren Liebermann contributed reporting.

The Israel Defense Forces (IDF) said Brigadier General Yossi Sariel, who led its 8200 intelligence unit, has informed them he will “conclude his role in the near future.”

The country’s public broadcaster Kan and several other media outlets have published excerpts of his resignation letter stating he feels personally responsible for not preventing Hamas from launching the deadliest attack on Jews since the Holocaust.

“On October 7th at 06:29 I did not fulfill the task as I expected of myself, those at my command and commanders expected me and the citizens of the state I love so much,” the letter said, according to Kan.

“Today, in accordance with the state of the war, the processes of the gathering ranks and the building of the unit’s resilience, and after the completion of the initial investigative processes, I request to fulfill my personal responsibility as the commander of the unit on October 7 and at a time to be determined by my commanders to pass the baton to the next shift,” Kan reported Thursday.

Shortly after the attack, a number of top defense and security officials came forward to take responsibility, to some extent, for missteps that led to Hamas’ attack on Israel, which left 1,200 people dead and another 250 taken hostage.

On October 16, the head of Israel’s domestic security agency, Shin Bet, tasked with combating terrorism, wrote a statement saying: “The responsibility is on me.”

“Despite a series of actions we carried out, we weren’t able to create a sufficient warning that would allow the attack to be thwarted,” Shin Bet chief Ronan Bar said.

Later that month, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu also received sharp public criticism after he accused security chiefs in a later-deleted social media post of failing to warn him about the impending attack.

In a May interview with Dr. Phil McGraw on the “Dr. Phil Primetime” show, Netanyahu admitted there were political and military failures. “The government’s first responsibility is to protect the people. That’s the ultimate enveloping responsibility. People weren’t protected. We have to admit that,” Netanyahu told Dr. Phil.

When asked if he held himself to that standard and failed in some way he added, “I hold myself and everyone on this. I think we have to examine how it happened. What was the intelligence failure?”

South Korea has for decades been known as the world’s largest “baby exporter” – sending hundreds of thousands of children overseas after the country was ravaged by war and many mothers left destitute.

Many of those adopted children, now adults scattered across the globe and trying to trace their origins, have accused agencies of corruption and malpractice, including in some cases forcibly removing them from their mothers.

A report released earlier this week by a Korean government commission supports those claims and uncovers new evidence on the coercive methods used to force mothers to give up their children.

The Truth and Reconciliation Commission, tasked in 2022 with investigating the claims, found that more than a dozen babies in several government-funded care facilities in the 1980s had been forcibly taken to adoption agencies, sometimes “on the day of birth or the next day.”

It examined three care facilities in the cities of Daegu and Sejong where, in 1985 and 1986, 20 children in total were transferred to adoption agencies. Most of those children were adopted overseas in the United States, Australia, Norway and Denmark.

The commission is still investigating cases allegedly involving falsified paperwork. An interim report is expected to publish later this year.

Searching for their roots

More than 200,000 South Korean children have been adopted overseas since the 1950s following World War II and the Korean War, according to authorities. Many of those children were adopted by families in the US and Europe.

While adoptions continue today, the trend has been declining since the 2010s after South Korea amended its adoption laws in an effort to address systematic issues and reduce the number of children adopted overseas.

For a generation of adoptees who have grown up in often homogenous, majority-White populations, some say they feel both disconnected from their Korean roots and unable to fit in. It’s what prompted a search for their biological families.

Some of those adoptees say they have mixed emotions over the commission’s findings, feeling both horror and hope that the investigation will shed light on what many long suspected.

“It’s truly terrifying to hear how systemic these issues were, but I wouldn’t say it’s necessarily surprising,” said Susanné Seong-eun Bergsten, who was adopted from South Korea and grew up in Sweden.

Bergsten’s biological family found her when she was a young adult, and while there was no sign that her paperwork was falsified, she says she can understand the struggles having been involved in advocacy for Korean adoptees.

“Us adoptees, we’re all kind of told, these adoptions are for our own good and we should all feel grateful for escaping poverty,” she said, calling the reality “far more complex.”

“Our adoption papers often lack important information which could give us more context for adoption, like our cultural background, stigma, and the individual struggles that our parents faced in the post-war era,” she said.

“[It] validates what Korean adoptees have known for decades within our community: The narrative that Korean mothers chose of their own volition to relinquish their children is, in all too many cases, a fiction,” he said.

While both Zastrow and Bergsten said it marked a promising step in the right direction, Bergsten urged the government to continue taking accountability and offer reparations to adoptees and their families.

“Adoption touches every level of Korean society, every economic class,” said Zastrow. “There is still much about Korean adoption that has not been formally acknowledged.”