In El Salvador, tattoos have turned into a double-edged sword. On the other hand, they are a blight on the area and a challenge to public safety. On one, they mitigate police suppression and result in accusations of gang affiliation. Now, Belarmino García—director of the Cecot supermax prison—may have just shot that logic to ribbons. He proactively uses tattoos to flag suspects affiliated with infamous gangs such as Tren de Aragua and MS-13. Tattoos are pretty much everywhere in contemporary society. This trend gives them new literal and symbolic currency and makes their implication for defenders who don them so important to understand.
Hector Hernandez, a tattoo artist and prisoner at Cecot, raises a significant concern among tattooed persons. He outlines how so many of them inadvertently fall in with gangs, making their lives more complicated than they ever expected. Although some people pursue tattoos strictly for artistic expression, some people expect them to signal future delinquency. This mismatch between perception and reality perpetuates the friction felt in the neighborhoods today.
Tattooists such as Alejandra Angel are finding their way in this new terrain. Angel observes a major change in public perception about tattoos. She says the stigma surrounding body art has diminished greatly. Today, tattooed Americans find it much easier to gain employment across a variety of industries, including service jobs at restaurants and retail conglomerates like Walmart. She thinks that some designs just invite police attention, making already hard lives more difficult for her clients.
Tattoos Identify Gang Affiliations
Given García’s focus on tattoo meanings in gang culture, it may not be surprising he has stressed the need for cultural competence. He points out that certain symbols signify warnings to “see nothing, hear nothing, and do nothing” against gang activities. Indeed, tattoos are frequently used to memorialize fallen brothers in arms or to express the bond developed with loved ones through tattooing itself.
“Authorities are searching for members of terrorist organizations who have specific tattoos that identify them with that type of organization,” says García. He delves into the connection between tattoo art and gang affiliation. As he put it, a man with 90 tattoo marks associated with MS-13 is considered an active MS-13 member.
Arturo Suarez Trejo, a Venezuelan singer, demonstrates this apprehension through his neck bird tattoo. Tattoos such as his can easily be misinterpreted, resulting in arresting and prosecuting him based on his body art alone. Jerce Reyes is a retired Venezuelan professional soccer player. He wears a distinctive crown over a soccer ball representing Real Madrid. For many of the tattooed, these tattoos are closely tied to specific personal trauma. In a country where tattoos are heavily stigmatized, that’s not always the case.
“He has various tattoos on his body related to MS-13. He is an active member,” – García
Changing Perceptions of Tattoos
Even societal perceptions continue to be an obstacle when it comes to tattoos. As body art gains more acceptance, people are looking at it with new eyes. A small, talented tattoo artist was once interrogated by police over his own tattoos. Today, he reaps the rewards of a flood of clients from all ethnicities and cultures. His clientele soon began to include teddy bear-hugging professionals like the doctors and lawyers who have fully embraced tattoo culture.
Alejandra Angel reflects on this transformation: “Never in the history of this country would you see a guy with tattoos working in a restaurant or in a Walmart, never.” She explains this shift to greater government control to the desire to reestablish order in the country from widespread gang violence.
That landscape shift has opened the door for tattooed folks to navigate the mainstream workforce without the stigma that they previously faced. Yet, despite the documentary project’s hopeful progress toward inclusion, Angel cautions that the presence of tattoos does not guarantee protection from prejudice or misinterpretation of someone’s motives.
“After they ‘cleaned up’ the country everything has changed (with) the visibility of tattoos,” – Alejandra Angel
The Struggle for Identity
Tattooed people in El Salvador contend with all of this, and battle for their identity. This fight is larger than the art; it is a fight for existence within a society that incorrectly associates body art with criminality. Hector Hernandez articulates this dilemma well when he states, “We’re mixed up, and that’s the hardest thing.” The culture surrounding the tattooed body remains a microcosm of other social struggles realized through the lens of crime, identity, and acceptance.
García doesn’t deny the complex reality of tattoo culture in El Salvador. “This isn’t a hunt just because a person has tattoos,” he stresses while reiterating that not every tattooed individual is linked to gang activity. As he describes, previously, people had to commit violent felonies in order to go to a trial. Sadly, today it is the presence of these now-legal tattoos – dozens of them – that can have sometimes tragic legal repercussions.
“In the past, they had to kill someone, kidnap someone, extort someone to be brought to trial. Now, having tattoos for these organizations is a crime,” – García
The ongoing conversation about tattoos in El Salvador encapsulates a society grappling with its identity amid a backdrop of violence and reform. As perceptions evolve and more individuals express themselves through body art, the challenge remains: how to navigate a world where skin deep meanings can have profound implications.
