It’s official: the temporary detention center for undocumented immigrants in the heart of the Everglades—which made headlines for nearly a year—officially closed its doors on Thursday, June 25. The wire-mesh cells under the white tents are empty. The guards have left, and the detainees have been transferred elsewhere.
Even the highly polluting generators—which the Center for Biological Diversity had been fighting against—have been dismantled. However, the group’s attorney, Ryan Maher, states: “The fight continues to ensure that the site is fully cleaned up and that the Trump and DeSantis administrations are held accountable.”
Officially, the authorities announced a “temporary” closure due to the onset of hurricane season, which the facilities could not withstand—even though the National Hurricane Center had predicted that the 2026 season would be relatively mild. This argument seems rather flimsy, however, since the center had opened on July 1, 2025—right in the middle of the 2025 hurricane season.
Human rights organizations had denounced the appalling detention conditions. Detainees had little access to their lawyers. The food served contained maggots, the toilets did not work, the floors were sometimes flooded with feces, and there were swarms of mosquitoes and other insects. Air conditioning was sporadic in the large tents, which housed rows of bunk beds surrounded by wire mesh, and detainees did not have access to daily showers. There are numerous allegations of beatings, pepper spray, and injuries (one individual had a broken wrist).
What are the legal consequences?
While some lawsuits have been dropped, others are continuing.
The Center for Biological Diversity has withdrawn its complaint—known as the “Clean Air Act lawsuit”—related to air pollution from the electric generators powering the detention center. These diesel-powered generators, installed without a permit, reportedly released benzene, formaldehyde, and nitrogen oxides into the atmosphere.
However, the group is continuing its legal action to protect the environment, as environmental studies had not been conducted prior to the installation of Alligator Alcatraz. Maher emphasizes: “We and our partners will not stop until every piece of infrastructure related to this facility has been permanently removed, the damage has been assessed, and Big Cypress has been restored.”
Meanwhile, two Cuban immigrants are filing a complaint against the authorities for assault and battery. They claim to have been brutalized by guards, including state employees as well as private contractors. Katie Blankenship, who heads the organization Sanctuary of the South, believes that “they really just want to close the doors, walk away, and pretend nothing happened. Yet lives have been upended.”
According to Governor DeSantis, Alligator Alcatraz facilitated the processing and deportation of 21,000 undocumented immigrants. But the negative public perception and the astronomical cost to the state of Florida—amounting to one million dollars per day for day-to-day operations, without receiving any federal aid—proved to be Alligator Alcatraz’s undoing.
Ultimately, it is the thousands of detained immigrants and their families who will carry the trauma of this center with them. The Florida Immigrant Coalition states that the only winners in this project are the companies that built and managed the site’s operations.
N.B. TRANSLATED BY DEEPL
