Everyday Ecuadorians in the Country’s Crime Crackdown
Ecuador was rocked with a wave of extreme steps from both criminal syndicates and the government, headed by President Daniel Noboa, early this January. The environment of drug-trafficking, murder, and organised crime that has been gripping the country increasingly in recent years came to a head with the disappearance of the leader of the Los Choneros gang from jail. In response to the escape of Ecuador’s “most-wanted prisoner”, President Noboa declared a state of emergency on 8 January, giving the Armed Forces “all the political and legal support for their actions.”
The following day, Ecuadorian citizens were horrified to witness masked gunmen storm a live news broadcast in Guayaquil, threatening news staff with long-range guns over an uninterrupted feed.
With tanks deployed on the streets and persistent back and forth violence, Ecuadorians have found themselves experiencing the heavy hand of law enforcement in attempts to curtail criminal activity, in addition to continued threats of gang violence and drug issues. Modelling after El Salvador’s President Nayib Bukele, who took a hardline approach to the drug cartels and crime in his country, Ecuadorian police and military detained 3,611 people in the seventeen days following the news channel attack. Of these, 237 were charged with terrorism—reflective of the government’s labelling of gangs and drug traffickers as narcoterroristas. The measures seem to have had an immediate effect, with rates of murder significantly declining, dropping 70 percent across the country in the month following the state of emergency. However, these steps raise questions for the everyday lives of Ecuadorians.
The heavy presence of gangs in Guayaquil, Ecuador’s largest city, and others throughout the country has led some citizens to readily embrace the extreme policies.
In Guayaquil, some residents can be seen clapping and giving soldiers the thumbs-up as they pass by, seemingly indicative of the appreciation that something is finally being done. Never Martinez, a truck driver in the city, said of the changes: “We’re on the right path; I hope they don’t let up. The mafia advanced so much that they terrorized the entire country. We’re still anxious, but not as much as before”.
One woman, named Maria, said of the presence of armed forces, “I have seen no more killings nor shooting. I can finally walk on the streets of my community again. We will need soldiers in the street forever.” Despite her approval, Maria’s comment about the need for everlasting militarization reflects another issue that has arisen from the hard-line approaches.
Billy Navarrete, head of the Permanent Committee for the Defense of Human Rights in Guayaquil has cautioned that “you can temporarily control the situation with militarization, but in the long term it will boil over again”. Navarrete’s comments reflect the sentiments of teacher and social researcher Blanca Rivera, who feels community investment and providing youth with options to avoid gangs is a better solution.
The question of tactics for approaching these issues extends beyond asking whether prevention is better than crackdown—some are calling attention to the restriction of liberties in pursuit of these mano dura or iron fist policies.
Navarrete’s organisation has documented incidents of abuse from security forces towards those who are not involved in gang activity but were drug users. In another incident, a 19-year-old, Carlos Vega, was shot and killed by military forces after his car accidently bumped into a military vehicle, who claimed they had been firing on “terrorists”. Online videos have also shown men and boys subjected to rough tactics by authorities.
On a similar line of concern, an Ecuadorian judge ordered an investigation by the Ombudsman’s Office into “alleged acts of torture” by the miliary in prisons around the country. With pictures of stripped and handcuffed prisoners, once again reminiscent of El Salvador, fears of human rights violations are reasonable.
Perhaps the measures taken by Noboa are drastic and may lead to rights violations. Some Ecuadorians seem to accept that possibility: in the words of Andrea Tello, a teacher, “We have to continue with this until all of these groups fall, all of them are eradicated […] We lost our civil rights a long time ago—but because of these criminal groups, not the armed forces.”
For Ecuadorians fed up with persistent gang violence, afraid to walk their neighbourhoods and go about their daily lives, these measures seem to provide respite. Fewer families must venture to the Guayaquil morgue to collect the bodies of murdered loves ones, less people are visiting the hospital for gunshot wounds, and many seem to approve of mano dura policies: the government’s approval rating has risen to 76 percent.
The fears of human rights groups and experts on the region also carry weight—crackdowns on crime can only accomplish so much when “there are entire neighbourhoods that don’t even have access to water”, as stated by Blanca Rivera. Ecuador’s youth deserve the opportunities to live safely and not resort to the tumultuous world of gangs and drug-trafficking. While hard-line policies might provide some safety, risks stem both from the authorities themselves and the vacuum that may be felt when they leave. A lack of viable physical and social infrastructure will perpetuate these issues; one can only hope that President Noboa, with his claimed commitment to democracy, will see greater investment realised alongside his iron-fist tactics.
Image courtesy of Agencia de Noticias ANDES via Wikimedia Commons, ©2017. Some rights reserved.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the wider St. Andrews Foreign Affairs Review team.
