Among this year's 2025 World Press Photo winners is Carlos Barrera, a documentary photographer and photojournalist. His photo story, titled ‘Life and Death a Country without Constitutional Rights’, won the North America and Central America Long-Term Projects category, and hits particularly hard as a Salvadoran and journalist.
El Salvador has long been synonymous with violence. The Salvadoran Civil War, which raged from 1980 to 1992, is still fresh in many people's memories. The military, right-wing death squads, and guerrilla groups terrorized Salvadorans. After the civil war ended, corrupt governments and the gangs terrorized Salvadorans. Despite several right-wing and left-wing governments led by the two most powerful parties in the country, nothing really changed.
In 2022, President Nayib Bukele declared a “state of emergency” that suspended rights to freedom of association, assembly, and privacy in communications. It’s been renewed numerous times since then and has led to mass incarcerations and overcrowding in jails. Barrera’s photo story highlights the struggles of those incarcerated, many jailed without due process, and their families.
Growing up in El Salvador, the war, what happened, and who the actual villain was were subjects that were rarely brought up. An American teacher at my school summarized that everyone had suffered, but that the right had caused the most damage. It was true, but it struck a nerve. There was no debate, not for my classmates. One girl in particular was furious. She had family members who had been kidnapped by the leftist guerrilla that later became the FMLN.
Most of my classmates and I grew up in the outskirts of the capital, removed from much of the violence, but there was a constant perception of danger, an undercurrent of hatred and fear left over from the war. We lived in gated communities, drove places rather than walked, and mostly mixed with others of the same social class as us.
But the version of El Salvador that is being presented to the world is changing. The war and its gang violence used to be what people associated with El Salvador. Now, whenever I tell people that I’m from El Salvador, they immediately ask for my opinion of Bukele and Bitcoin. They even express a desire to visit a country I spent my teenage years endeavoring to leave.
When I went back to El Salvador last year for New Year’s Eve. For the first time, I walked around the city centre with my family. A Christmas town and an ice rink had been installed for Christmas. I stood in awe of the immense and futuristic Chinese-funded library, with its huge amount and variety of books. There were also a number of PlayStation consoles on the top floor. It was a communal space, and one we could all share.
Inside the library and outside on the streets were people from different walks of life. I felt safe in a place I’d been repeatedly and truthfully told was unsafe. I could see why some people were so willing to give up their freedoms. To turn a blind eye to Bukele’s more murky actions.
This trip only served to reaffirm to me why Carlos Barrera's imagery is so important. In a time when dictatorial leaders are rising, belittling the role of journalists, silencing critics, and using their political power to spread hate – freedom of the press is needed more than ever to tell the stories that those in power would rather not be told. Barrera’s photo story shows the very real harm still being done to Salvadorans, and I hope El Salvador and the world listen.
You can see Carlos's work and all the other winners at the World Press Photo Exhibition at the MPB Gallery in London until Monday, 25 August, or at Amsterdam's De Nieuwe Kerk until September 21.
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