Eviction, for downtown street vendors here, was no surprise. It was a sentence they’d been waiting for.

Maritza Trejo first heard the rumors three years ago. As a safeguard, she managed to rent a place that she used as a warehouse for her merchandise. But it was still jarring when, in late February, she and other vendors received notice that they must vacate downtown within 72 hours. The notice came from the mayor’s office, part of a multiphase initiative to revitalize the area. The vendors were told that they’d be relocated, but that hasn’t happened.

Trejo has sold costume and antique jewelry, keychains and magnets in the downtown area for 25 years. But her bestsellers? Anything with President Nayib Bukele’s face on it.

Trejo knows firsthand that extortion and death once reigned over San Salvador. Bukele, who was mayor from 2015 to 2018, promised to end all that. When he ran for president in 2019, Trejo’s decision was easy.

“Who else would I vote for?” she asks.

Evictions that can happen any time

Since Bukele’s election — and reelection in 2024 — the city center has transformed. Expensive restaurants have opened, and China donated $54 million for a futuristic reconstruction of the National Library.

Vendors say Bukele has cleaned up the streets. They’re grateful that they no longer fear for their lives. But now, they fear for their livelihoods.

In her new location, Trejo struggles to attract customers.

“We sell every day, but before the eviction on a bad day we would sell $300,” she says. “Since we moved, on the best day, we sold $199 and on a bad day, $11.”

So far, at least 2,500 vendors have been evicted in six of the 200 blocks that make up downtown. The remaining vendors know their notices will come any day.

“In making these decisions, there has been no discussion with the vendors, who have been there for decades,” says political scientist Carlos Monterroza.

Trejo’s eyes well as she recalls how Mario Durán, San Salvador’s mayor, campaigned on a promise that he’d support businesses like hers. His grandparents worked as vendors.

Weeks after she was forced out of the downtown, Trejo says the mayor’s words feel like a betrayal.

The heart of El Salvador

Light meets shadow in downtown San Salvador. Locals and tourists visit historic sites like the Metropolitan Cathedral and the National Palace, and sip beer in storied bars. Alongside souvenir vendors are those who sell produce, clothing, natural medicines and much more. Salvadorans from other neighborhoods used to come downtown to stock their own businesses.

“When I think of the center, I am not referring to the physical space; I am referring to what the center represents: the heart of El Salvador,” says Belén Goca, who promotes downtown businesses on TikTok. Vendors know that if she posts about them, the customers will come.

For decades, downtown was one of the most violent areas in the country. Gangs fought for control, and walking the wrong street could mean death. But in March 2022, after gang members killed 87 people, gunning down bystanders in streets across the country, Bukele declared a state of emergency, which severely curtailed civil liberties in the name of security. It’s still in effect.

A shift toward authoritarianism

Since the state of emergency began, the government reports that it’s detained more than 85,000 people. According to Human Rights Watch, 109,000 people are being held in a prison system meant for 70,000.

Since the mid-1980s to mid-1990s, when many countries in the region transitioned from military dictatorships to democratic governments, Latin Americans have associated democracy with the popular vote, says Monterroza, the political scientist.

Under El Salvador’s regime, it’s easy for a person to be captured by police, processed and taken to a penal center — likely for good.

Decades in, he says, it’s clear that some leaders who win elections shift toward authoritarianism once they’re in office. Under El Salvador’s regime, it’s easy for a person to be captured by police, processed and taken to a penal center — likely for good.

“This becomes,” Monterroza says, “a scheme to intimidate the population.”

Protests and fears

In the early hours of Feb. 22, a vendor called Goca in tears over their eviction order. So she published a video of the vendors, talked about the impending evictions and encouraged shoppers to help.

“For me, it was not a political statement. It was not a protest,” Goca says. “It was in the hope that they wouldn’t take them down. Really, the only thought that went through my mind was, ‘How many people who love this place don’t know what’s going to happen?’”

Her videos made national news. That weekend, thousands came downtown to buy from the vendors, who auctioned their products for whatever they could get.

Vendors don’t feel ready to fight back, Goca says. They’re scared.

Two months ago, Salma Hernández’s daughter, a vendor, was evicted from the downtown area. Now, Hernández, who has a grocery stall, worries that the same will happen to her. She’s 59 and cares for her 70-year-old brother. Her business hasn’t been the same since the government launched the revitalization initiative. Where she once earned $200 a day, she says, she might bring in just $20.

At the same time, she says, she lives peacefully now, thanks to Bukele. She no longer lives with the uncertainty and danger that once pervaded downtown.

“Here, there’s democracy,” she says, “because democracy is when you’re happy.”

World Crunch: https://worldcrunch.com/business-finance/clean-streets-empty-stalls-street-vendors-pay-the-price-of-peace-in-el-salvador/

Calles limpias, puestos vacíos: los vendedores ambulantes pagan el precio de la paz en El Salvador

El desalojo no tomó por sorpresa a los vendedores; era una sentencia largamente esperada. Maritza Trejo oyó los primeros rumores hace tres años y, como salvavidas, alquiló un local que hoy le sirve de bodega. Aun así, quedó atónita cuando, a finales de febrero, ella y otros comerciantes recibieron una notificación de la alcaldía: tenían 72 horas para abandonar el centro histórico. La misiva, parte de un plan en varias fases para “revitalizar” la zona, prometía reubicarlos. Esa promesa sigue en el aire.

Trejo lleva veinticinco años vendiendo bisutería, llaveros y pequeños imanes. Sus productos estrella, sin embargo, son los que llevan el rostro del presidente Bukele. Sabe por experiencia que la extorsión y la muerte reinaron alguna vez en San Salvador; cuando Bukele, exalcalde de la capital (2015-2018), se postuló a la presidencia en 2019, no dudó: “¿Por quién más iba a votar?”, recuerda.

Desalojos que pueden llegar en cualquier momento  

Desde la llegada de Bukele al poder —y su reelección en 2024— el centro ha mutado: florecen restaurantes de lujo y China donó $54 millones para una Biblioteca Nacional futurista. Los vendedores reconocen que Bukele “limpió” las calles y ya no temen por la vida. Ahora temen por el bolsillo.

En su nuevo punto, Trejo apenas atrae clientela. “Vendemos todos los días; antes, en un mal día hacíamos $300. Desde que nos movieron, el mejor día fue de $199 y el peor, de $11”.

Al menos 2 500 vendedores han sido desalojados en seis de las 200 manzanas que conforman el centro. Los que quedan saben que su notificación puede llegar en cualquier momento. “No hubo diálogo con quienes llevan décadas allí”, señala el politólogo Carlos Monterroza.

A Trejo se le quiebra la voz al recordar que el alcalde de San Salvador, Mario Durán, hizo campaña prometiendo apoyar negocios como el suyo; sus abuelos también fueron vendedores. Hoy esas palabras le suenan a traición.

El corazón de El Salvador 

En el centro, la luz se mezcla con la sombra. Turistas y locales visitan la Catedral Metropolitana, el Palacio Nacional o se toman una cerveza en bares históricos. Entre vendedores de recuerdos conviven quienes ofrecen frutas, ropa, medicinas naturales y mucho más. Durante años, comerciantes de otros barrios abastecían allí sus propios negocios.

“Cuando pienso en el centro no me refiero al espacio físico, sino a lo que representa: el corazón de El Salvador”, explica Belén Goca, promotora de negocios en TikTok. Los vendedores saben que, si ella publica un video, los clientes llegan.

Durante décadas, el centro fue una de las zonas más violentas del país. Las pandillas se disputaban cada calle y un paso en falso podía costar la vida. Todo cambió el 27 de marzo de 2022, cuando, tras el asesinato de 87 personas en un solo fin de semana, Bukele decretó el régimen de excepción, todavía vigente, que recortó libertades civiles en nombre de la seguridad.

Un giro autoritario 

Desde entonces, el Gobierno afirma haber detenido a más de 85 000 personas. Según Human Rights Watch, 109 000 reos se hacinan en cárceles diseñadas para 70 000. “En América Latina se asocia la democracia con el voto popular”, apunta Monterroza. “Pero hay gobernantes que, una vez electos, viran hacia el autoritarismo”. En el El Salvador de hoy, basta una patrulla de la Policía (Policía Nacional Civil) para que alguien acabe en un penal, quizá para siempre. “Es un esquema para intimidar a la población”, sentencia el académico.

Protestas y temores 

A las tres de la madrugada del 22 de febrero, una vendedora llamó llorando a Goca: acababa de recibir la orden de desalojo. La tiktokera publicó un video, alertó sobre lo que se avecinaba e invitó a la gente a comprarles. “No era un pronunciamiento político ni una protesta —aclara—. Era con la esperanza de que no los tumbaran. En realidad, lo único que me pasaba por la cabeza era: ‘¿Cuántas personas que aman este lugar no saben lo que va a pasar?’”.

El video se volvió noticia nacional. Ese fin de semana, miles de personas abarrotaron el centro y los vendedores remataron su mercancía al mejor postor.

Pero, según Goca, los comerciantes no se sienten preparados para plantar cara; el miedo pesa. Hace dos meses, la hija de Salma Hernández fue desalojada. Ahora ella, que administra una miscelánea y cuida de un hermano de 70 años, teme correr la misma suerte. Antes, ingresaba $200 diarios; hoy, a duras penas llega a $20.

Con todo, reconoce que vive en paz gracias a Bukele: “Aquí hay democracia —afirma—, porque democracia es cuando uno está feliz”.

World Crunch: https://worldcrunch.com/business-finance/clean-streets-empty-stalls-street-vendors-pay-the-price-of-peace-in-el-salvador/