What is MS-13, and How Did the U.S. Help Create It?
In our last post, we explored how the language we use—"undocumented" vs. "illegal"—shapes how we treat immigrants. But words are just one piece of the puzzle. To truly understand today’s immigration crisis, we also need to look at the deeper forces that push people to flee their homes in the first place. One of the most common explanations we hear is "gang violence." And one gang in particular gets all the headlines: MS-13.
You may have heard MS-13 described as a foreign threat, a violent force from Central America invading U.S. cities. But the truth is far more complicated—and far more uncomfortable. MS-13 didn’t come from El Salvador. It came from the United States. And U.S. policy played a major role in making it what it is today.
What Is MS-13?
The gang known as MS-13, short for Mara Salvatrucha, began in Los Angeles in the 1980s. "Mara" is Central American slang for gang. "Salvatrucha" likely combines "Salvadoran" with "trucha," a slang term meaning clever or alert. The "13" refers to their allegiance to the Mexican Mafia, also known as "La Eme."
MS-13 was formed by young Salvadoran immigrants, many of them refugees fleeing a brutal civil war back home. In L.A., they faced violence from other established gangs and little protection from law enforcement. Banding together for protection and identity, these youths started what would become MS-13. At the time, it was a small, local street gang—not the international criminal network it would later become.
The U.S. Role in the Salvadoran Civil War
To understand why so many Salvadorans fled to the U.S. in the first place, we have to look at the Salvadoran Civil War (1979–1992). During this conflict, the U.S. poured billions of dollars into supporting El Salvador's right-wing military government, viewing the conflict as part of the global Cold War fight against communism.
The Reagan administration, in particular, funneled aid and weapons to Salvadoran forces despite widespread reports of human rights abuses. U.S.-trained military units like the Atlacatl Battalion were responsible for massacres, including the infamous 1981 El Mozote massacre, where over 800 civilians were killed. Even after this, U.S. support continued.
These policies prolonged the war, destabilized the country, and left tens of thousands dead and even more displaced. Many of the refugees from this war ended up in Los Angeles, where MS-13 was born.
How Deportation Spread the Gang Internationally
In the 1990s, U.S. immigration policy took a sharp turn. The 1996 Illegal Immigration Reform and Immigrant Responsibility Act (IIRIRA), signed by President Bill Clinton, expanded the list of crimes that could lead to mandatory deportation. Even legal immigrants with minor convictions were now subject to removal, often with no chance to plead their case before a judge.
Thousands of young people with gang ties were deported to El Salvador, a country still recovering from war and lacking the institutions to reintegrate them. In this chaotic environment, MS-13 evolved. What started as a U.S.-based street gang became a transnational criminal organization with a foothold in El Salvador, Honduras, and Guatemala.
Militarization and the Politics of Fear
After 9/11, the U.S. increasingly treated gang violence as a national security issue. MS-13 became a symbol used to justify tough-on-crime and anti-immigration policies. Successive administrations—Republican and Democrat alike—poured funding into militarized police, detention centers, and border security.
Meanwhile, U.S.-backed anti-gang crackdowns in Central America, like El Salvador's "Mano Dura" (Iron Fist) policies, often backfired. They filled prisons with young people, deepened gang identities, and gave MS-13 the structure and space to become more organized and violent.
A Bipartisan Legacy
The rise of MS-13 is not the fault of one party. It's the product of decades of decisions:
Reagan and Bush Sr. funded the Salvadoran war effort and ignored atrocities.
Clinton signed the 1996 deportation law that exported gang violence.
George W. Bush framed MS-13 as a national security threat.
Obama continued large-scale deportations while trying to stabilize the region.
Trump used MS-13 as a political weapon to justify stripping asylum rights.
Each of these steps contributed to the conditions that allowed MS-13 to thrive.
Why It Matters Today
MS-13 is often cited to justify harsh immigration crackdowns. But many of the people arriving at our southern border today are fleeing the very violence that U.S. policy helped create. Instead of treating them as threats, we should be asking what it would take to stop the cycle of violence and displacement.
Toward Solutions: What Real Reform Looks Like
We can’t undo the past, but we can stop repeating it. Here are a few ways forward:
Reform Deportation Laws
End mandatory deportation for minor, non-violent offenses.
Restore judicial discretion and case-by-case review.
Expand Legal Migration Pathways
Create regional asylum processing centers.
Increase access to Temporary Protected Status (TPS).
Invest in Central America—Beyond Police and Prisons
Prioritize education, healthcare, and economic development.
Fund anti-corruption efforts and civil society organizations.
End the Criminalization of Migration
Make unauthorized border crossings civil, not criminal, offenses.
Restore Asylum Protections and Due Process
Reinstate fair asylum interviews.
Expand access to legal representation.
Fund Local Violence Prevention
Support youth outreach, gang exit programs, and trauma care.
Invest in Root-Cause Solutions—They Cost Less and Work Better
Detaining an immigrant in the U.S. costs about $165 per person per day (source).
Vocational training in El Salvador can cost as little as $0.25 per hour (source).
That means for the cost of one day of detention, we could provide 660 hours of job training—a far better investment in long-term safety and stability.
Conclusion: Accountability and Responsibility
MS-13 didn’t just appear out of nowhere. It was shaped by U.S. foreign policy, immigration law, and decades of political choices. We destabilized El Salvador, exported our gang problems, and then used the fallout to justify fear-driven policies.
But we have the power to break that cycle. By investing in people, not prisons, and by treating migration as a human challenge—not a criminal one—we can build a safer, more just future for everyone.
And let’s be honest: compassion isn’t just the right thing to do. It’s also cheaper.