PJP writers react to Trump’s proposal to send incarcerated U.S. citizens to the infamous mega-prison in El Salvador.
by Patrick Irving, Lucretia Stone, Cesar Hernandez, Angelo Sedillo, James Mancuso and Jamie Silvonek
[This article first appeared on Prison Journalism Project.]
In the early months of his second term, President Donald Trump has already made dramatic changes to the United States’ deportation policies. He has sent hundreds of people alleged to have gang affiliation or lack legal status to a mega-prison in El Salvador that has been accused of violating human rights.
But in mid-April, when meeting with President Nayib Bukele of El Salvador, Trump went one step further, suggesting that he supported sending U.S. citizens convicted of violent crimes to foreign prisons — an unprecedented step for a U.S. president. Bukele said he would accept these incarcerated U.S. citizens, and Trump said he instructed U.S. Attorney General Pam Bondi to examine whether his idea was possible.
“If it’s a homegrown criminal, I have no problem,” Trump said in April. “Now, we’re studying the laws right now — Pam is studying. If we can do that, it’s good.”
Experts have said Trump’s proposal is unconstitutional and illegal.
Prison Journalism Project asked several writers for their thoughts on Trump’s proposal. One writer in New Mexico questioned the legality of Trump’s suggestion: “His words seem disconnected from the country’s founding principles.”
Most writers said that as bad as conditions in U.S. prisons can be, they prefer staying on U.S. soil to being shipped off to the prison in El Salvador, where phone calls and visits are prohibited and there has been evidence of systemic beatings and torture.
“I know another country will not provide what an American prison gives me,” wrote Cesar Hernandez, in Texas. “The grass is not always greener on the other side.”
Read their full responses and more from other writers below.
It came as no surprise to me that an acting president voiced the idea of extending the U.S. prisoner business to other countries.
Idaho, like other states, has a history of outsourcing incarceration to for-profit corporations that notoriously know how to stretch a dollar. Having served time in several privately-run facilities, I used to have recurring nightmares of being sent to a U.S.-owned Mexican prison.
My nightmares nearly came true when, in 2018, I was transferred to a private detention center in Eagle Pass, Texas, as result of prison overcrowding in Idaho. I watched from behind barbed wire as helicopters patrolled the Rio Grande river. Far away from home, I held tight to every remote interaction with my family.
— Patrick Irving, Idaho
If President Donald Trump’s administration does decide to send U.S. citizens to El Salvador, or other countries, who is going to stop them? No one has so far.
— Lucretia Stone, New Jersey
When I first heard that President Trump wanted to send inmates to other countries, my first thought was: “No way!”
America’s prisons might not be good, but it’s well known that prisons in many other countries are much worse. I would like to think I will not be sent away, but I have no guarantee.
I hope the president is not allowed to execute this suggestion. I have no idea what criteria would be used. One neighbor told me he hopes Trump sends him to a Mexican prison. I told him I’ll gladly stay in an American prison. I know another country will not provide what an American prison gives me. The grass is not always greener on the other side.
— Cesar Hernandez, Texas
When President Donald Trump said he was considering sending U.S. citizens to foreign prisons, people at this northeastern New Mexico prison asked: Was it legal?
His words seem disconnected from the country’s founding principles. We’ve already watched our government send Kilmar Armando Abrego Garcia to El Salvador, despite a judge ruling that he could stay in the country because of the dangers posed to his life in El Salvador.
In early April, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Abrego Garcia’s deportation was illegal, and that the Trump administration is required to “facilitate” his return. But almost a month later, the administration has claimed that they don’t have the authority to make El Salvador return Abrego Garcia.
This scenario is frightening because it seems to show how little power our courts have in overriding the president’s orders. As another prisoner told me: “We need to question the legality of these mass relocations. [So] should the random soccer mom in Indiana, because [Trump’s actions] set a dangerous precedent that leads toward authoritarianism.”
Not only was Abrego Garcia sent to another country, but he was also sent to a prison that human rights groups have accused of torture, denial of water and food and health care, and closed off to visits and phone calls.
America isn’t new to tyrants, but our constitutional system was framed as a check against tyranny. And yet this premise seems to be under threat as the Trump presidency unfolds. The question is: What can we do about it?
— Angelo Sedillo, New Mexico
When I’ve heard other prisoners make light of the CIA waterboarding suspected terrorists, I’ve cringed. Precedent is a powerful thing. If torture in a military context turns into a norm, then that opens the door to implementing torture within the borders of our nation.
The same applies to the conditions at the Terrorism Confinement Center, or CECOT, the mega-prison in El Salvador. If we are comfortable sending people to prisons in other countries, might we eventually become comfortable making our country’s prisons more like CECOT?
— James Mancuso, Idaho
My roommate and I were watching CNN together, drinking coffee and trying to wake up, when we heard an audio clip of President Donald Trump entertaining the notion of deporting incarcerated American citizens to El Salvador.
I laughed when I heard him refer to incarcerated people as ”home-grown terrorists.”
”S—, he can deport me,” I quipped to my roommate, as I got up to make a second cup of coffee. ”At least someone can probably buy their way out of an El Salvadoran prison. Pennsylvania isn’t even willing to show mercy to the people who deserve second chances.”
My roommate gave me a look. ”You’d seriously rather be there?” she asked me. “Jamie, you wouldn’t last a day.”
I knew my roommate had a point. My conditions of confinement are significantly better than most people incarcerated in the U.S., which is to say nothing about people incarcerated in El Salvador. I live in an incentive unit, where I’m allowed out of my cell most of the day; have access to college courses and educational materials; and can talk to my support system on the outside at least twice a day.
Later that day, my roommate entered our room after a phone call with her mother.
”Dude, my mom’s freaking out,” she said. ”She thinks I’m going to get deported.”
I laughed. As they say, if you can’t laugh about something, you’ll go crazy — and that was especially true that day.
”Listen, no one is getting deported,” I said, attempting to reassure my roommate as well as myself. ”There are limits to these things. He can’t just completely ignore due process.”
My roommate shrugged: ”Well, I won’t put anything past him at this point.”
I chose to remain silent. I didn’t want to acknowledge that my roommate was voicing my very own fears.
— Jamie Silvonek, Pennsylvania
