El Salvador / Impunity

Montaña: The Prison Guard Identified as Torturer of Mariona Prison

Víctor Peña
Víctor Peña

Monday, August 19, 2024
Carlos Martínez

El Faro first published this article in Spanish in October 2023.

Inside Mariona Prison in El Salvador, there is an individual who appears recurrently in the testimonies of those who were imprisoned under the state of exception. Someone who everyone remembers by his nickname, Montaña, and who is singled out as a torturer and as the head of prison guards who commit torture. Ex-prisoners describe him as a corpulent and violent man, with the prerogative of giving orders to the guards and strutting up and down different sectors of the prison without any restrictions.

Montaña’s name is William Ernesto Magaña Rodríguez. He is originally from Turín, Ahuachapán, and, according to sources familiar with the internal operations at El Salvador’s Bureau of Prisons, began working as a security employee at Izalco Prison in 2006.

William Ernesto Magaña Rodríguez is a guard at the Mariona prison, known by his nickname, Montaña. Multiple testimonies from former prisoners point to him as a torturer and as the head of torturers at that prison. Photo taken from Facebook.
William Ernesto Magaña Rodríguez is a guard at the Mariona prison, known by his nickname, Montaña. Multiple testimonies from former prisoners point to him as a torturer and as the head of torturers at that prison. Photo taken from Facebook.

During the 29 months that the state of emergency has been in effect, authorities have acknowledged the capture of more than 81,000 people, of which 7,000 have been released––according to the last official figures provided in August 2023 by the Minister of Justice and Security, Gustavo Villatoro––after no connection was found between these people and gangs.

Since the beginning of the regime, complaints of mistreatment inside prisons continue to grow: torture, humiliating treatment, withholding of food and medicine, isolation, and even murder have been documented by civil human rights organizations and the independent press.

During the first year of the state of emergency, enacted in March 2022, the human rights organization Cristosal documented at least 153 people who died inside prisons, of which at least 75 had signs indicating that their deaths had been violent. Through July 22, 2024, 309 people had died in prison under the state of exception: 305 adults and four babies, according to data from Socorro Jurídico Humanitario.

However, no one has ever been held responsible for these actions, partly because prison guards do not wear identification on their uniforms, and most wear balaclavas that cover their faces. That is why Montaña’s case is exceptional: his moniker is mentioned in testimonies collected by Cristosal and Socorro Jurídico Humanitario, as well as in the investigative work of El Faro.

Since there is no public record of people captured under the current exception regime and visits to prisons by independent non-government-affiliated organizations are not permitted, the only official records are posts made by some public officials on social media or the occasional statements they offer to media outlets. For example, Gustavo Villatoro, the Minister of Public Security assured in a television interview in November 2022 that deaths inside prisons were a “normal” situation, arguing that all were due to natural causes. Later, in March 2023, the head of the ruling party, Christian Guevara, said that although the deaths inside prisons were murders, they were the result of violence between inmates and assured that this was proof that those captured were not “kindergarteners.”

People detained under the state of emergency wait to be transferred from the Mariona prison to the Isidro Menéndez judicial complex. Outside, many people crowded together trying to identify their detained relatives. Photo Víctor Peña
People detained under the state of emergency wait to be transferred from the Mariona prison to the Isidro Menéndez judicial complex. Outside, many people crowded together trying to identify their detained relatives. Photo Víctor Peña

Ingrid Escobar, director of Socorro Jurídico Humanitario, affirms that Montaña has appeared frequently in the cases that the institution follows: “They describe him as a big, stocky man who everyone is afraid of and who rules in Mariona,” she said. At least three people have mentioned his name in the testimonies collected by the organization. In all three stories he appears as the leader of those who commit abuses in the prison.

Montaña is also mentioned in a report put together by Cristosal from a series of interviews with people captured and imprisoned between March 2022 and March 2023. According to the report, Montaña would threaten to kill inmates and actively participated in torturing prisoners. A 20-year-old claimed that a guard named Montaña would constantly warn the inmates, “Only if you are lucky will you get out of here alive.”

“While they were kneeling, they were given electric shocks,” the report also says.

“[The people who gave their testimony] describe him as a dark, broad man. He appears to be ordering torture and threatening to torture others. There is one case in the report that clearly highlights him telling inmates that they are going to die. And they saw him ordering the others to be beaten,” says Zaira Navas, Cristosal’s legal director. She sums it up as such: “He appears to us to be the one who orders and commands.”

Dozens of testimonies collected by this newspaper and by human rights organizations point to the security staff of Salvadoran prisons as the main torturers under the state of exception. In Mariona, the name repeated by those who leave is Montaña, described as a ruthless man whose mere presence instills panic in the halls of the prison. Photo Víctor Peña
Dozens of testimonies collected by this newspaper and by human rights organizations point to the security staff of Salvadoran prisons as the main torturers under the state of exception. In Mariona, the name repeated by those who leave is Montaña, described as a ruthless man whose mere presence instills panic in the halls of the prison. Photo Víctor Peña

El Faro has also collected testimonies from people who spent months inside prisons under the state of exception. Montaña’s name is a throughline.

“The man they call Montaña is a large man. A tall man. I can tell you that every blow he gave them was a deathly one, that’s why so many people died… He would tell the boys, ‘It smells like rats in here and I like to kill rats.’ From our cell they would take them out to beat them and when they got to the cell they would have to be dragged around. They couldn’t even walk and we would take care of them for up to two days just so they could get up,” says a 50-year-old peasant from the east of the country, who spent 13 months in prison.

Another person recounts his own experience with Montaña: “They took us to an interview in Sector 5, where there is a guard that they call Montaña, who lifts weights because he is like a gorilla, strong, with big arms, and he wears a black, long-sleeved, striped shirt that says Montaña in big white letters. I remember that Montaña arrived, stood in front of me, and said: ‘Where are you from?’ And though he may not have liked the answer I gave him, what I was telling him was true. He grabbed me and hit me seven times, and then after that I got up. His fellow guards can’t help you because if any get involved, he’ll hurt them, too. I got up, stood up again, and he left. I remember him asking another guy what he did for a living and he said he was a mechanic, he was really young. And he said: ‘How do you calibrate valves…?’ And [the guy] didn’t answer. He hit the guy with his chest, he was pretty small, and he sent him flying about four meters. He is in charge of intimidating you,” recalled this man who spent 11 months in prison.

The journalist Víctor Barahona, who was detained for nearly a year, met Montaña in Mariona: “Montaña is a jackal, he is the head of the guards. His companions were afraid of him, because they said that he would beat you to death with sticks and nobody said anything to him there. All the prisoners are afraid of Montaña. He was a stocky man, like a bodybuilder. Imagine: If when a thin guard hits you and it hurts, just imagine this guy,” he recounts.

Marco Tulio Castillo Reyes, known by his friends as Teco, played soccer and, according to Professor Alexander Guzmán, with whom he was incarcerated, was not a gang member or collaborator, but rather his employee. He died in May 2022 from a beating he received from the guards in a prison, according to Guzmán’s testimony, published by El Faro in May 2023. Photo courtesy.
Marco Tulio Castillo Reyes, known by his friends as Teco, played soccer and, according to Professor Alexander Guzmán, with whom he was incarcerated, was not a gang member or collaborator, but rather his employee. He died in May 2022 from a beating he received from the guards in a prison, according to Guzmán’s testimony, published by El Faro in May 2023. Photo courtesy.

A day laborer from Ahuachapán, who was captured along with his father and grandfather, recalls “a fat, muscular man who is the executioner there, whom everyone calls Montaña. He is a guard who is angry to death. He is not in any sector, he seems different, he walks around in a black sweater and black pants. He walks around with big tear gas canisters. He moves from one sector to another. I feel like he’s not a guard, because they are distinguished by their uniform, whereas he walks around in all black. He was the angriest of them all.” This man testified to sexual abuse committed by prisoners who had already been convicted against people captured and awaiting trial under the state of emergency. He claims that Mariona’s guards were aware that rapes were occurring inside the prison and that they did not stop them.

On September 27, 2023, El Faro contacted Montaña via cell phone and had the following conversation. The man said that he would be willing to grant an interview, but that he had to consult with higher-ups:

“Hello, Mr. William. We have been covering the state of exception and in several testimonies you appear mentioned under your codename: Montaña… I would like to know if we can talk…”

“What would you like to discuss with me?”

“Many people who have been in prisons recall a very strong guard who was nicknamed Montaña. They say that you have acted aggressively with people inside Mariona or that you have been the coordinator of guards who have been accused of abuse. We have heard quite a few testimonies in which your name appears, but we do not publish anything without offering the person we are going to mention the opportunity to offer his side of the story.”

“Remember that the majority of those who have appeared under the regime are… These issues are very complicated and with respect to what you mention, they may be deprived of their freedom because they are hurt by the regime or the system. I have worked in prisons for several years, but what they tell you is complicated. I don’t know who is giving you this information, I don’t know if it is a gang member who is giving you this information. I couldn’t give it to you. If there are legal issues, why don’t those guys file a complaint?”

“These are people who have been released by the regime after it was proven that they had no ties to gangs. That’s also what the minister told us, that all the people they release are innocent.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to talk about this in person?” Montaña asked.

“Of course. I can go wherever you tell me and I can go into more detail about what these people have said. I agree: it’s better to talk in person.”

“I’m not interested in what those people say. Whoever is deprived of liberty... I mean, I’m not interested in what they say about me, there are thousands of prisoners, in fact that’s my job in prisons. I have defended them from harassment or extortion by gang members inside prisons... but yes, I’m interested in meeting you in person.”

“Tell me what day.”

“Let me assess the situation because I am not solely in charge. I have superiors and I must consult them if I should give a testimony. Let me consult with my boss. I am free to express myself according to the law, but since these are complicated and delicate issues and since you are from El Faro… it’s complicated… I have my own perspective, I cannot depend on a comment from a prisoner who is uncomfortable with how they live. I also don’t know if he behaved badly in prison. It does not affect me… I know about the law and I am recording this call anyway. For my part, I will gladly give you the interview, for every question there is an answer, yes, without throwing hate at the government. As they say, I am neutral, I follow justice and righteousness.”

“There are those who say that you’ve hit them or that other guards hit them with your authorization.”

“I understand. I cannot answer those questions if they do not fall within regular conduct. If my boss gives me the go-ahead, sure, but I want you to understand that I am under authority and that I cannot get carried away.”

After that conversation, he promised to respond to the interview request two days later. However, on September 29, 2023, El Faro called his cell phone and the calls were cut off after the first ring. He was also contacted via WhatsApp, but no response was received.

This newspaper also contacted Alejo Carbajal, head of communications for the Bureau of Prisons (DGCP), to request an official reaction, but there was also no response.

As an inmate is released from Mariona, his family claps outside. In many cases, due to the lack of information for families of the detained, nobody is present to greet those released from custody. Many families prefer to camp outside the prison facilities in the hopes that their relatives will be released into their care rather than relying on other families present in order to make their way back home. Photo Carlos Barrera
As an inmate is released from Mariona, his family claps outside. In many cases, due to the lack of information for families of the detained, nobody is present to greet those released from custody. Many families prefer to camp outside the prison facilities in the hopes that their relatives will be released into their care rather than relying on other families present in order to make their way back home. Photo Carlos Barrera

The Salvadoran government maintains a triumphalist narrative around the effects of the state of emergency, even promoting the “Bukele model” that managed to dismantle the gangs and dismissing the multiple accusations of torture and murder inside prisons. In May 2023, the president swore in Andrés Guzmán, a Colombian lawyer and expert in digital security, as presidential commissioner for human rights and freedom of expression. Guzmán has categorically denied that abuses are being committed in Salvadoran prisons.

El Faro interviewed the commissioner in August 2023. During the interview, he again repeated that there is no torture in El Salvador’s prisons, supporting his claims by saying that no formal complaints have been filed before the Bukele-controlled Attorney General’s Office. On that occasion, however, he also claimed that he had not interviewed anyone who had been captured during the state of emergency.

*Translated by James Langan

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