Towards the Disappearance of the Rule of Law
We are living in dangerous times. Times in which discourses that were once considered marginal or belonging to the far right have moved to the center of public debate with alarming speed and acceptance. Times in which human rights —the most fundamental pillar of any democratic society— are being treated as burdens, as obstacles to "order," "progress," or "security."
Today, from many corners of the world, we are witnessing an unprecedented campaign of delegitimization. It's not just about criticizing a specific judicial decision or pointing out flaws in public policies. No. It's a direct and sustained attack on the very concept of human rights. A discourse fed by political sectors —especially from the right— but that has found echoes in wide swaths of society. Because it has been normalized. Because it has been internalized.
And that is the greatest threat.
The idea has taken root that minority rights are privileges or threats to economic stability.
That workers' rights are obstacles to development. That women's rights are excesses or “woke whims.” That criminal guarantees are accomplices of crime. That the rights of migrants are not as valid as those of native citizens.
That international organizations like the UN or the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights are useless bureaucracies.
That human rights organizations are just “leftist scams,” as if defending human dignity were a business rather than an urgent necessity.
This discourse is not innocent. It is not a spontaneous reaction. It is functional. It serves those in power, those who want fewer limits, fewer controls, less accountability. Because human rights, by definition, exist to put a check on the State —to prevent abuse, arbitrariness, and impunity.
The new consensus —because yes, it is becoming one— holds that rights must be sacrificed to feel safe. That we must give up legal guarantees to achieve justice. That repression is more effective than prevention. That prisons are too empty, and must be filled —even if it’s with the poor, the Black, the migrant, the dissenter.
And with that logic, the rule of law begins to crumble. Because it is no longer the law that guarantees freedom and equality, but power that decides what is legal, who is a full citizen, and who deserves rights —and who doesn't. Justice itself is turned on its head.
We are witnessing it.
In El Salvador, where Bukele builds mega-prisons while basic guarantees are suspended with popular approval.
In the United States, where thousands of migrants face inhumane conditions in detention centers, And face degrading treatment and unequal conditions as they are deported —and, hopefully, returned to the country they actually belong to.
(The “hopefully” reflects the fact that there have been cases where migrants are deported to countries they are not originally from.)
And it’s easy to see why this discourse gains support. It feeds on fear, on pain, on frustration in the face of real insecurity, in the face of structural violence. It presents itself as a solution. As order. As quick justice. But it is not.
It is never acceptable, under any circumstances, to give up rights in exchange for the promise that the State will “protect” you. Giving up your freedom for a false sense of peace is not security. Surrendering others’ dignity for an illusion of economic stability is not progress.
Because when human rights are seen as a luxury, as a nuisance, as an obstacle, we are not building a stronger society. We are, unknowingly, helping dismantle it.
The discourse that erodes human rights doesn’t discriminate in the end. Today it may target a migrant. Tomorrow, a woman. The day after, you. Or me. No one is safe in a world where rights are negotiable.
Defending human rights is not an ideological stance. It is an ethical necessity. A survival act.
