Choosing between justice and freedom

For one human rights lawyer in El Salvador, it feels increasingly like the justice system is designed "to convict." Yet he continues to defend even the riskiest cases.

|
Salvador Melendez/AP/File
Evelyn Beatriz Hernandez sits in court during her second trial, after her 30-year sentence for murder was overturned in 2019 in San Salvador, El Salvador. Ms. Hernandez was prosecuted under the country’s strict abortion laws.

Several years ago I lost a pregnancy at about 13 weeks. I've thought about that day over the years for all the obvious, sad reasons. But also because of one big "what if": I had initially planned to be in El Salvador on a reporting trip that week. Scores of women have been imprisoned following miscarriages in El Salvador, accused of murder under the country's strict abortion laws. What would I have done if my trip dates hadn't changed? Would I have been able to find a compassionate doctor? 

Fleeing the country, which is likely what I would have done, isn't a privilege most Salvadoran women have. Certainly, it hadn't been on offer for the women defended by Dennis Muñoz, the human rights lawyer profiled in the cover story of the Oct. 23 print edition. Mr. Muñoz has dedicated his career to fighting for lost causes – the cases hardest and often riskiest to defend in El Salvador, whether due to draconian laws or the social or economic standing of his clients. El Salvador’s story of injustice goes far beyond reproductive rights – and Mr. Muñoz’s work underscores that. He told freelance reporter Nelson Rauda Zablah that it feels increasingly like the justice system is designed "to convict."

For more than a year and a half, El Salvador has been under a so-called state of exception. The rule suspends the constitutional rights of anyone arrested, going beyond the gang-related cases it is meant to apply to. But homicide rates have fallen in what was considered, not so long ago, the deadliest country in the world. And many Salvadorans are relieved. There’s a new sense of freedom, in which people can visit family across town, attend school, or run a small business without the risk of extortion or violence at the hands of powerful criminal groups. But now there’s the risk of arrest, which the state of exception says can take place without an explanation from the police.

In theory, one shouldn’t have to choose between justice and freedom, but that's an increasingly common point of tension in Latin America today. Initiatives to crack down on climbing levels of crime and violence frequently clash with the protection of citizen rights. Mr. Muñoz's clients, such as a woman he defended who was pardoned following a miscarriage, praise his relentless approach to fighting for the protection of human rights. I can see the short-term appeal of giving up some rights in return for more freedom, but not everyone has a Mr. Muñoz to defend them.

You've read  of  free articles. Subscribe to continue.
Real news can be honest, hopeful, credible, constructive.
What is the Monitor difference? Tackling the tough headlines – with humanity. Listening to sources – with respect. Seeing the story that others are missing by reporting what so often gets overlooked: the values that connect us. That’s Monitor reporting – news that changes how you see the world.

Dear Reader,

About a year ago, I happened upon this statement about the Monitor in the Harvard Business Review – under the charming heading of “do things that don’t interest you”:

“Many things that end up” being meaningful, writes social scientist Joseph Grenny, “have come from conference workshops, articles, or online videos that began as a chore and ended with an insight. My work in Kenya, for example, was heavily influenced by a Christian Science Monitor article I had forced myself to read 10 years earlier. Sometimes, we call things ‘boring’ simply because they lie outside the box we are currently in.”

If you were to come up with a punchline to a joke about the Monitor, that would probably be it. We’re seen as being global, fair, insightful, and perhaps a bit too earnest. We’re the bran muffin of journalism.

But you know what? We change lives. And I’m going to argue that we change lives precisely because we force open that too-small box that most human beings think they live in.

The Monitor is a peculiar little publication that’s hard for the world to figure out. We’re run by a church, but we’re not only for church members and we’re not about converting people. We’re known as being fair even as the world becomes as polarized as at any time since the newspaper’s founding in 1908.

We have a mission beyond circulation, we want to bridge divides. We’re about kicking down the door of thought everywhere and saying, “You are bigger and more capable than you realize. And we can prove it.”

If you’re looking for bran muffin journalism, you can subscribe to the Monitor for $15. You’ll get the Monitor Weekly magazine, the Monitor Daily email, and unlimited access to CSMonitor.com.

QR Code to Choosing between justice and freedom
Read this article in
https://www.csmonitor.com/Commentary/From-the-Editors/2023/1114/Choosing-between-justice-and-freedom
QR Code to Subscription page
Start your subscription today
https://www.csmonitor.com/subscribe