"Women, 'las buscadoras', have become a very strong reference for courage" | A Special Women's Month Conversation with Ana Lorena Delgadillo Pérez

For Women's Month, we're releasing a special episode of Latin America Today featuring a conversation with Ana Lorena Delgadillo Pérez — a Mexican human rights lawyer with over two decades of experience working on enforced disappearances, femicides, migrants' rights, and women's rights across Mexico and Central America.  In this episode, Ana Lorena speaks with WOLA's Corie Welch about what the crisis of enforced disappearances looks like today, the outsized role women have played in confronting it, and what enforced disappearances in the context of U.S. immigration enforcement tells us about the state of democracy and rule of law.  About Ana Lorena Delgadillo Pérez  Ana Lorena Delgadillo Pérez is a Mexican human rights lawyer with over two decades of experience working on enforced disappearances, femicides, and the rights of women and migrants across Mexico and Central America. She is the founder and former Executive Director of the Foundation for Justice and Democratic Rule of Law, a regional NGO working in Mexico, El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras, where she has helped shape landmark legislation and build forensic and search mechanisms for disappeared migrants. She has litigated historic cases before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, including serving as an expert witness in the Cotton Field case — one of the most significant rulings on femicide in the hemisphere. She currently serves as a member of the United Nations Expert Working Group on Enforced or Involuntary Disappearances.  In this episode:  The context of enforced disappearances in the region — who is disappearing, who is responsible, and what impunity looks like on the ground  How women across borders are supporting each other in the search for their loved ones  The link between femicide and disappearances, and lessons from the landmark Cotton Field case  Enforced disappearances in the context of U.S. immigration enforcement 

This episode assesses the "transition"—if that is the correct word—in Venezuela nine weeks after the January 3 U.S. military operation that extracted Nicolás Maduro. This conversation with Laura Dib, director of WOLA's Venezuela program, and Francisco Monaldi, director of the Latin American Energy Program at Rice University's Baker Institute for Public Policy, focus particularly on the role of oil, the country's largest source of foreign exchange by far. Dr. Monaldi acknowledges that oil revenues have increased significantly. However, these revenues now flow into a U.S.-controlled account. The lack of transparency around this fund—including unknown balances and unclear disbursement rules—is deeply concerning. Dib emphasizes that ordinary Venezuelans have yet to feel material improvements. Over 12.4 million out of perhaps 29 million Venezuelans facing severe humanitarian needs, and "when Venezuelans go to a supermarket right now, they don't really feel a change." While more than 600 political prisoners have been released since January, over 700 remain detained, and the repressive apparatus that sustained Maduro's government remains largely intact under Delcy Rodriguez's control. Dr. Monaldi explains that Venezuela needs approximately $100 billion in oil sector investment to restore production to levels seen twenty years ago. Yet the recent reform of Venezuela's hydrocarbons law grants the oil minister enormous discretion over tax rates and contract allocation, creating precisely the kind of uncertainty that deters serious investment. Monaldi and Dib note that Venezuela currently lacks even a published national budget, and its ranking as the third most corrupt country on Transparency International's Corruption Perceptions Index reflects the dismantlement of democratic institutions. Dr. Monaldi draws a parallel to post-Soviet Russia, warning that how oil contracts are allocated in the coming months could determine the country's trajectory for decades—either creating a transparent system or enriching a new class of oligarchs. Both guests stress that sustainable economic recovery is impossible without meaningful progress toward the rule of law. "Oil companies do not care about democracy... they do focus on the rule of law. And in the case of Venezuela, I don't think we will see any stable rule of law unless we get a transition to democracy," Dr. Monaldi says. With their current leverage, oil firms should push for democratic reforms as a condition of investment, Dib suggests. She calls on the U.S. Congress to exercise oversight and notes that the administration's stated goals—regional security and reducing migration—cannot be achieved without addressing the humanitarian emergency and rebuilding institutions. Both guests express concern that the Trump administration appears focused narrowly on oil production rather than the broader institutional reforms necessary for Venezuela's long-term stability. " I don't see any indication that a system is being built for this to happen in the proper way," Monaldi warns. Expectations are rising in Venezuela, but they will not be met without transparency, accountability, democracy, and the rule of law.

This episode features Mark Ungar, a professor of criminal justice and political science at Brooklyn College and the City University of New York. Ungar has written extensively on the rule of law, policing, and human rights in Latin America, and more recently has focused his research on environmental organized crime across the Amazon basin. Ungar notes that environmental organized crime—illegal gold mining, logging, cattle ranching, and land grabbing—has become the third largest criminal enterprise globally and is now deeply intertwined with narcotrafficking operations. Rather than existing as separate phenomena, these activities share infrastructure, routes, and personnel. Criminal networks carrying out environmental organized crime are deeply intertwined with state actors and the legal economy. The nexus involves governors, military officials, environmental ministry personnel, and municipal authorities at multiple levels. Even when good laws exist, implementation remains weak because investigations rarely lead to prosecutions of major figures. The episode turns to Venezuela's Orinoco Mining Arc, a zone covering roughly 12 percent of national territory that then-president Nicolás Maduro established in 2016. Ungar describes it as a "criminal state project" in which the Maduro government effectively legalized destructive extraction in a geologically unique and biodiverse area that includes nature reserves and indigenous territories. The zone is controlled by a confluence of Venezuelan military officials, Colombian armed groups including the ELN and FARC dissidents, Brazilian garimpeiros, and local criminal organizations called sindicatos and pranes. Violence is extreme, and environmental and health consequences are devastating, with ninety percent of pregnant women and schoolchildren showing elevated mercury levels in their blood. Ungar explains how the gold and minerals extracted from this area enter legitimate international markets. Between 2016 and 2021, the Mining Arc generated approximately $2.2 billion in gold revenue, but an estimated 86 percent was mined illegally, and roughly 70 percent was smuggled through shell companies and opaque supply chains. The zone also contains big deposits of coltan, iron, bauxite, and other sought-after minerals. Ungar shares concern about the Trump administration's current approach to Venezuela. While the administration has focused on oil access, counternarcotics, migration, and excluding Chinese influence, there appears to be no priority given to addressing environmental organized crime. Ungar suggests that Washington's willingness to work with the current Venezuelan government—the Maduro regime minus Maduro himself—likely means business as usual for state-sponsored extraction intertwined with organized crime. Consumer countries must stop looking the other way about the origins of products that end up in legitimate commerce.

This episode is a conversation with John Walsh, WOLA's director for Drug Policy and the Andes, about the ongoing U.S. military attacks on civilian boats in the Caribbean and Pacific Oceans. When Walsh and host Adam Isacson recorded this episode, on February 13, 2026, 35 attacks had killed at least 131 people since September 2, 2025—an average of four killings every five days—and another attack later that day killed 3 more people. Walsh and Isacson just published a WOLA commentary, "The Boat Strikes are Still Happening: Five Things You Need to Know," warning against the dangerous normalization of extrajudicial executions carried out directly by the U.S. military. Five months into this campaign, the strikes are fading from public attention despite their illegality. Media coverage has dwindled from the intense scrutiny of September and the revelations about "double tap" strikes on survivors in December to a trickle of stories. This normalization poses dangers: the justifications being used could extend to other victims in other contexts, and elements of the U.S. military appear to be accepting unlawful orders. There is no congressional authorization for military force against drug traffickers. Under international law, the United States is not engaged in an armed conflict with drug cartels—designating groups as foreign terrorist organizations does not confer wartime authorities. From a drug policy perspective, Walsh argues these strikes are futile. After five months, there is no evidence of a disruption to cocaine supplies. Drug trafficking organizations are highly adaptive, with alternative routes readily available. The administration's own recognition that traditional interdiction didn't work led them to this extreme escalation, but killing traffickers at sea will not fundamentally alter market dynamics driven by constant demand and enormous profits under prohibition. The boat strikes, if "normalized," could prepare the ground for grave future outcomes. The administration's willingness to label anonymous victims as "narcoterrorists" creates a template for applying similar labels to domestic opponents—something already visible in the characterization of ICE critics and the victims of Chicago and Minneapolis shootings as "domestic terrorists." Walsh notes that President Trump has expressed his desire to deploy military forces against "the enemy within" on U.S. streets, and the compliance of Southern Command with these illegal orders suggests obedience to the president over the Constitution. "The illegality is not a bug, it's a feature," Walsh concludes. Walsh concludes by emphasizing the importance of litigation on behalf of victims' families, the moral voice of faith leaders, and continued media attention to prevent normalization. These strikes, he argues, are not a peripheral story but central to the administration's declared strategy of dominating the Western Hemisphere through coercion.

Following the Trump administration's January 3, 2026 military operation in Venezuela and its lethal strikes on boats suspected of carrying drugs, its threats of unilateral U.S. military action inside Mexico and Colombia have taken on new urgency. WOLA's Gimena Sánchez-Garzoli and Stephanie Brewer join Adam Isacson to examine what such actions would mean for two of Washington's most important partners in the hemisphere. The conversation opens with a sobering parallel: days before recording, Border Patrol agents killed Alex Pretti on a Minneapolis street in what appears to be another grossly unjustified use of lethal force. Both guests draw on their countries' painful experiences with security force violence to illuminate patterns now emerging in the United States: the demonization and victim-blaming, the battle over evidence and documentation, and the long struggle for accountability. The episode then turns to the mounting threats of U.S. military intervention. Trump has floated drone strikes and Special Forces operations in Mexico since his first term; now, after Venezuela, he has spoken of "hitting cartels on land." President Claudia Sheinbaum has drawn an absolute red line on sovereignty while simultaneously making unprecedented concessions. The fear, Brewer notes, is that the threat of unilateral action could coerce Mexico into accepting operations before or after the fact. In Colombia, the relationship has deteriorated dramatically. Once the strongest bipartisan partnership in the region, it has been battered by aid cuts that gutted programs built on decades of hard-won lessons and by counter-drug sanctiones aimed at President Gustavo Petro. A February 3, 2026 White House meeting between Trump and Petro now carries enormous stakes. Both governments need each other—on counter-drug cooperation, on managing Venezuelan migration, on regional stability—but both leaders are volatile and prone to escalation. The guests close with a clear-eyed assessment: militarized tactics against drug trafficking have failed for 40 years. Killing kingpins, striking labs, and adding groups to terrorist lists have never ended the drug trade. What actually works is building capable civilian justice institutions, reducing impunity, addressing corruption, and investing in the social and economic conditions that make organized crime attractive in the first place. A unilateral U.S. strike wouldn't end drug trafficking—but it could destroy the cooperation that any realistic strategy requires.

January 20, 2026 is the first anniversary of Donald Trump's second inauguration. As we pass this milestone, WOLA President Carolina Jiménez Sandoval and Vice President for Programs Maureen Meyer join Adam Isacson to take stock of a year that has fundamentally transformed U.S. policy toward Latin America—and not for the better. This episode is a companion of a review analysis that Meyer published on January 15, 2026, tracking how the past year saw U.S. policy undermining democracy and human rights promotion, interfering in elections, hitting immigrants from the region quite hard, and taking the "war on drugs" to new extremes. This episode's conversation traces a dramatic shift: during the period following the Cold War, U.S. policy in the region, despite critical flaws, moved gradually toward cooperation, partnership, and at least rhetorical support for democracy and human rights. That trajectory has reversed. As Meyer explains, democracy promotion has "all but disappeared" from the administration's foreign policy framework. The State Department's Bureau for Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor has been gutted. Over 80 percent of U.S. assistance to Latin America has been cut, including funding for civil society organizations and independent journalists. In place of cooperation, the administration has embraced coercion. A new doctrine designates Latin America as a top U.S. military priority. Nineteen organizations in the region are now listed as foreign terrorist organizations, up from four in early 2025. Most alarmingly, 32 U.S. military strikes on civilian boats in the Caribbean and Pacific have killed at least 124 people—a level of extrajudicial violence that, as Meyer notes, goes "beyond the traditional war on drugs." The guests examine how different leaders are navigating this moment. Populist leaders like El Salvador's Nayib Bukele and Argentina's Javier Milei have aligned themselves closely with the Trump administration. Mexico's Claudia Sheinbaum has walked a careful line, cooperating extensively on security while drawing firm boundaries around sovereignty. Brazil's Lula, drawing on decades of political experience, has managed a pragmatic relationship despite ideological differences. The conversation is not without hope. Jiménez emphasizes that democratic backsliding is not the same as authoritarianism: there remains space for resistance. The U.S. Congress has shown signs of reasserting its role: a recent war powers resolution attracted five Republican votes at one point, and proposed foreign aid legislation would restore significant funding for democracy and human rights programs over the administration's objections. The episode closes with a call to action. Civil society organizations throughout the hemisphere continue documenting abuses and advocating for change under increasingly dangerous conditions. U.S. citizens, the guests argue, have a responsibility to remember that their political choices affect millions of lives across Latin America. As Jiménez Sandoval puts it, the decisions Americans make about their own democracy will reverberate far beyond their borders.  

After midnight on January 3, 2026, the Trump administration bombed Venezuelan military sites and extracted the country's authoritarian leader, Nicolás Maduro. President Trump declared that the United States is now "running" Venezuela and emphasized access to its oil reserves. The rest of Maduro's government—the key political figures, the generals, the intelligence chiefs, the colectivos—remains in place. In this episode recorded January 6, as shockwaves from this historic intervention spread across the hemisphere, host Adam Isacson speaks with WOLA President Carolina Jiménez Sandoval and Venezuela Program Director Laura Dib about what just happened, the serious risks ahead, and what comes next. The conversation covers: The immediate humanitarian situation: continued repression, a looming economic crisis, and uncertainty about who is actually in charge. Why Washington appears ready to work with Chavismo—the same authoritarian structure it claimed to oppose—while sidelining Venezuela's democratic opposition. The dangerous precedent this sets for U.S. relations with the rest of Latin America, where the Trump administration's new security strategy presents governments with a stark choice between alignment with Washington or being labeled a threat. What solidarity with the Venezuelan people actually looks like when their agency has been pushed aside by both their own government and the intervening power. "International law exists precisely to limit the naked power of states," Jiménez Sandoval says. "To have one of those superpowers, under President Trump, disregard those basic rules of engagement is very alarming." "Human rights standards provide us with lenses that are universal," Dib adds. "That means going beyond condemnation—thinking about what can be done to stand in solidarity with Venezuelans, reclaiming their agency, and providing support to democratic forces."

In this series from the Washington Office on Latin America (WOLA), prominent decision-makers from across the Americas—those who have been at the heart of democratic governance—share personal reflections and insights on the meaning, challenges, and future of democracy in the region. In each episode, members of the WOLA team sit down with a current or former political figure from the Americas to explore democracy through different lenses: what it means to them, the challenges it faces, and why it remains essential today. Each conversation pairs democracy with a new dimension—transition, justice, leadership, and beyond.  

WOLA presents a new episode about El Salvador, coinciding with our awarding of our 2025 Human Rights Award to MOVIR, El Salvador's Movement of Victims of the Regime, which supports victims and families of arbitrary detentions carried out by President Nayib Bukele's government. In this conversation, Ricardo Valencia, assistant professor of public relations in the Department of Communications at California State University, Fullerton, explains why the current popularity of El Salvador's authoritarian president rests on a surprisingly fragile foundation. Dr. Valencia, a former journalist in El Salvador and an expert on political and activist communications, explains that Bukele is facing several challenges to his rule that even a slick propaganda operation cannot paper over. These include a lackluster economy, mainstream voters' discomfort with the regime's celebrations of cruelty and imprisonment, Bukele's relations with just one political party in the United States, the loss of emigration as an "escape valve" and a likely increase in deportations, and discontent with corruption. While Dr. Valencia doesn't foresee Bukele's downfall as imminent—he is very popular because of security gains and effective communications—the Salvadoran leader, he argues, is planting the seeds for a sharp drop in popularity. In the meantime, Valencia calls for constant, energetic accompaniment and defense of El Salvador's beleaguered civil society, independent media, and others fighting for democratic institutions and rights.

A special episode as part of WOLA's 2025 Human Rights Awards Month President Nayib Bukele's government has jailed nearly 2 percent of El Salvador's entire population—the highest incarceration rate in the world. Still, because violence has dropped sharply, political figures across Latin America speak about emulating Bukele's "security model." But behind the videos of mega-prisons and tweets about plunging homicide rates lies a darker, less sustainable reality. In this WOLA Podcast episode, Adam Isacson speaks with Beatriz Magaloni (personal site / Stanford site), a political scientist at Stanford University and co-author (with Alberto Díaz-Cayeros) of a Foreign Affairs article published September 11, 2025: "Does the Bukele Model Have a Future?" Their conversation reveals what Magaloni calls "a system of state terror and resource extraction," and explores why El Salvador's experiment in mass incarceration may ultimately collapse under its own weight. In fieldwork conducted since last year, Dr. Magaloni interviewed the families of hundreds of victims of the security crackdown, many aided by MOVIR, the Movement of Victims of the Regime, which WOLA is honoring with its 2025 Human Rights Award. "Our crime is to be poor," families told her. Police and soldiers face monthly arrest quotas, Magaloni explains. Civilians can denounce neighbors by calling a hotline—and are sometimes paid $300 bounties. Poor Salvadorans, many in communities with little or no gang presence, end up seized and jailed in prisons like Izalco and Mariona, where conditions amount to systematic torture. This, Magaloni says, has turned the carceral system into "a machine that milks the poor." Bukele's ongoing emergency decrees, renewed 42 times, now serve dual purposes: silencing critics and funding repression. Despite its popularity, Bukele's "model" rests on brittle foundations. Poverty remains over 30 percent and is not declining. The economy depends on remittances from abroad, not job creation. Corruption persists, while transparency laws and data access have been erased. Bukele's control of the media, polished propaganda videos, and rapid-fire social-media presence drown out criticism. Civil society's challenge, Magaloni argues, is to build equally powerful counter-narratives that humanize victims and expose hidden abuses. Drawing on decades of field research in Mexico and Brazil, Magaloni concedes that effective citizen security sometimes does require force, but points to past experiments that achieved short-term safety without repression, human rights abuse, or democratic dismantlement. These include efforts like community-based policing in Medellín or Rio de Janeiro's early UPPs, which showed progress before political will and funding eroded. Bukele "could have stopped six months in, admitted mistakes, freed the innocent—and he'd have deserved credit," Magaloni says. "Instead, he institutionalized terror."