From Tattoos to Deprivation: The Extraordinary Journey of a Venezuelan Man Detained in El Salvador
In March 2025, over 200 Venezuelan men were deported from the United States to El Salvador under the rarely invoked Alien Enemies Act of 1798, revived by the Trump administration to expedite removals. Many of these individuals were accused of affiliation with the Venezuelan criminal group Tren de Aragua, often based solely on their tattoos and social media activity—despite having no criminal records or evidence of wrongdoing (AP News, Wikipedia).
One of the most high-profile detainees, Andry José Hernández Romero, a 31‑year‑old gay Venezuelan makeup artist, had his asylum case suspended and was sent to El Salvador’s notorious Terrorism Confinement Center (CECOT). Authorities reportedly identified him as a suspected gang member due to crown tattoos associated with family reverence and local cultural ritual—not criminal loyalty (American Immigration Council).
He endured 125 days in detention, separated from legal or family support, before being released in July 2025 as part of a diplomatic prisoner swap involving the U.S., Venezuela, and El Salvador (Them).
The Role of Tattoos in Deportation Decisions
The decision to deport Hernández Romero—and dozens of others—hinged on a controversial, point-based “validation” system developed by U.S. immigration authorities to assess possible Tren de Aragua affiliation. Key criteria included tattoos, symbolism, and social media posts, which carried assigned point values. A total of 8 points or more typically led to classification as an affiliate, while 6 or 7 could trigger oversight review (Wikipedia).
Tattoos featuring crowns, soccer balls, roses, or even the Michael Jordan logo were flagged as gang indicators. But forensic criminologists, Venezuelan experts, and civil rights attorneys warned these symbols are popular across Venezuelan culture and bear no official connection to Tren de Aragua membership (Wikipedia).
In Hernández Romero’s case, the crowns inked above the words “mamá” and “papá” were interpreted by immigration officers as loyalty symbols to the gang. In truth, they related to the traditional crown imagery of El Día de los Reyes Magos (Three Kings Day), a prominent celebration in his hometown—an event where crowns are hallmarks of local culture and religious tribute (EL PAÍS English)
The Legal Void: No Criminal Charges, No Court Hearings
Although most deportees had no criminal records in the U.S. or Venezuela, their asylum claims and legal proceedings were abruptly stalled. Instead, many were detained immediately after check-in with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and swiftly deported—even when U.S. federal judges had previously halted deportation flights pending individualized hearings (The Lexington Times).
Hernández Romero, for instance, had undergone a fear interview and had an asylum court date scheduled, yet was removed without a hearing or opportunity to contest the decision. His attorney raised alarms over the lack of due process, describing his client’s transfer to CECOT as a “forced disappearance”—absent legal recourse or communication (Them).
Conditions at El Salvador’s CECOT: A Human Rights Nightmare
CECOT, the megaprison built by Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele, houses alleged gang members—especially members of MS‑13 and Tren de Aragua. Reports from released detainees and advocates describe inhumane conditions: prisoners with heads shaved, shackled wrists and ankles, exposure to abuse, starvation diets, inadequate medical care, and isolation from counsel or family (American Immigration Council).
Human rights organizations like the ACLU, Immigrant Defenders Law Center, and Human Rights Watch have condemned these operations, stating the deportees were treated as “ghosts in the U.S. system”, completely omitted from legal oversight or transparency (Them).
Family members only recognized some detainees through leaked videos showing inmates in deplorable conditions, identified by unique tattoos, body marks, or posture. One mother described seeing her son kneeling with a shaved head and tears streaming—an image she likened to a silent plea for help (EL PAÍS English).
Diplomatic Negotiation and Release: What Led to Freedom
By July 2025, mounting legal pressure, media scrutiny, and congressional advocacy—led in part by U.S. Representatives Seth Magaziner and Robert Garcia—culminated in a three-country prisoner exchange deal involving more than 200 Venezuelan detainees and 10 U.S. citizens or permanent residents held in Venezuelan custody (Them).
On July 21, 2025, Venezuela confirmed the release of 48 political prisoners, while the Salvadoran government repatriated over 250 Venezuelan men, including Hernández Romero, who had spent 125 days incarcerated at CECOT (Reuters).
Despite his release and return to Venezuela, Hernández Romero remains in potential peril—having been deported back to a country he fled due to persecution for being gay and having expressed dissent. His legal team continues advocacy efforts for lawful asylum processing or relocation options (AP News).
Venezuela Launches Investigation into Alleged Abuses
On July 21, 2025, Venezuela’s Attorney General Tarek Saab announced a formal investigation into Salvadoran officials, including President Bukele, for alleged abuses endured by Venezuelan detainees in CECOT. Allegations include sexual violence, physical beatings, contaminated food, and denial of medical care. Venezuelan authorities also intend to interview returnees and document evidence for accountability (Reuters).
The Salvadoran government has not formally responded to the allegations. Meanwhile, critics argue the deportation policy under the Alien Enemies Act represents a diplomatic and humanitarian crisis, with rights advocates branding detained Venezuelans as victims of systemic dehumanization and legal neglect (Reuters).
Broader Implications: Immigration Enforcement and Due Process
This case crystallizes several urgent policy and moral questions:
- Reliability of tattoo-based profiling: Using tattoos—even culturally-rooted or artistic ink—as criteria for suspected gang affiliation raises concerns over bias, stereotyping, and wrongful conviction by association (The Guardian).
- Bypass of legal safeguards: Invoking an 18th-century wartime statute to deport asylum seekers without hearings has drawn widespread rebuke. U.S. judges have ruled the removals violated constitutional due process, yet many deportations proceeded anyway (Politico, American Immigration Council, Wikipedia).
- International accountability gaps: The use of CECOT as a holding center for deportees without oversight underscores the peril when diplomatic arrangements sidestep domestic legal frameworks.
- Vulnerability of marginalized migrants: LGBTQ+ individuals like Hernández Romero faced compounded risks: fleeing homophobic violence in Venezuela only to endure intimidation and abuse in El Salvador.
Conclusion: A Story of Survival and Ongoing Struggle
Andry Hernández Romero’s journey—from fleeing persecution, to claiming asylum in the United States, to wrongful deportation under faulty tattoo profiling, through harsh incarceration, and finally eventual release via diplomatic exchange—is emblematic of a broader miscarriage of justice affecting hundreds of Venezuelans.
Though released, many remain in limbo—cut off from legal asylum rights, forced back into potential danger, or left stranded in bureaucratic purgatory. While the July 2025 prisoner swap achieved temporary reprieve, the underlying human rights violations—reliance on subjective profiling, legal evasion, denial of due process—point to systemic failure at the intersection of immigration enforcement and civil liberties.
Moving forward, advocates urge full judicial review, transparent admission of wrongful deportations, formal redress for survivors, and stronger protections for asylum seekers—especially those targeted for cultural expressions, tattoos, or identity markers. This episode reminds us that behind geopolitics and executive orders are real people with lives, families, and stories that demand justice and dignity.
Key Details at a Glance
| Detail | Description |
|---|---|
| Name | Andry José Hernández Romero, 31-year-old Venezuelan gay makeup artist |
| Tattoo in question | Crowns over “mamá” and “papá,” tied to cultural tradition, not gang affiliation |
| Basis for deportation | Point-based validation system linking tattoos and social media to alleged Tren de Aragua membership |
| Detention facility | CECOT high-security prison in El Salvador |
| Duration of detention | Approximately 125 days, held without judicial hearing |
| Release mediated by | U.S.–Venezuela–El Salvador prisoner exchange, July 2025 |
| Post-release status | Repatriated to Venezuela; ongoing legal risk persists |
| Government investigation | Venezuelan Attorney General probing alleged abuses of deportees at CECOT |
| Wider concerns | Use of tattoos as profiling, disregard for asylum process, lack of oversight |
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