Several years ago I lost a pregnancy at about 13 weeks. I鈥檝e thought about that day over the years for all the obvious, sad reasons. But also because of one big 鈥渨hat if鈥: I had initially planned to be reporting in El Salvador that week.
Scores of women have been imprisoned following miscarriages in El Salvador, accused of murder under the country鈥檚 strict abortion laws. What would I have done if my trip dates hadn鈥檛 changed? Would I have been able to find a compassionate doctor?
Fleeing the country, which is likely what I would have done, isn鈥檛 a privilege most Salvadoran women have. Certainly, it hadn鈥檛 been on offer for the women defended by Dennis Mu帽oz, the human rights lawyer profiled among today鈥檚 stories. Mr. Mu帽oz has dedicated his career to fighting for lost causes 鈥 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鈥檚 story of injustice goes far beyond reproductive rights 鈥 and Mr. Mu帽oz鈥檚 work underscores that. He told freelance reporter Nelson Rauda Zablah that it feels increasingly like the justice system is designed 鈥渢o convict.鈥
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.
Homicide rates have fallen dramatically. There鈥檚 a new sense of freedom and safety as a result. But there鈥檚 also the risk of arrest, which the state of exception says can take place without explanation.
In theory, one shouldn鈥檛 have to choose between justice and freedom, but that鈥檚 an increasingly common point of tension in Latin America today.
I can see the short-term appeal of giving up some rights in return for more freedom, but not everyone has a Mr. Mu帽oz to defend them.聽