A new chapter in the American immigration debate is unfolding deep within Florida’s Everglades, where a remote detention site—dubbed “Alligator Alcatraz”—is being developed to house up to 5,000 detainees. This facility, planned for the Dade-Collier Training and Transition Airport, has become a flashpoint for environmentalists, local officials, Indigenous tribes, and immigration rights advocates alike.
With federal support and a clear push from state authorities, the proposed center is quickly becoming one of the most controversial projects in recent Florida history. While the state frames it as a necessary step for immigration enforcement, critics view it as a dystopian symbol of overreach, ecological destruction, and humanitarian negligence.
The Location: A Prison in the Middle of the Wild
Located in one of the most remote and ecologically sensitive parts of Florida, the detention center is set to span 39 square miles of wetlands and wilderness. The area is part of the Big Cypress National Preserve, a federally protected region that harbors a vast array of plant and animal life, including endangered species. Bordered by swamps, alligators, invasive Burmese pythons, and difficult terrain, the site’s isolation is seen as both a feature and a flaw—depending on which side of the debate one stands.
Florida Attorney General James Uthmeier was blunt in his description of the site’s strategic advantage. “There’s really nowhere to go,” he said, citing the natural barriers as part of the security infrastructure. That very description, however, has only deepened the unease among critics who argue that such remoteness is not only impractical but inhumane.
Dubbed “Alligator Alcatraz” by activists and media outlets, the term itself evokes images of a prison cut off from the outside world, akin to the infamous island prison in San Francisco Bay. Unlike the original Alcatraz, however, this facility will not hold hardened criminals but immigration detainees—many of whom may have no criminal history and are merely awaiting hearings or deportation proceedings.
Alligator Alcatraz: the one-stop shop to carry out President Trump’s mass deportation agenda. pic.twitter.com/96um2IXE7U
— Attorney General James Uthmeier (@AGJamesUthmeier) June 19, 2025
What’s more, the plan to use temporary tents and trailers raises concerns about the conditions under which detainees will be held, especially given the swampy, humid, and insect-ridden environment of the Everglades. The facility’s proximity to wildlife, including alligators and pythons, seems almost symbolic of how perilous the situation could become for those confined within its perimeters.
Environmental and Indigenous Uproar
While security concerns are dominating the official narrative, the most passionate opposition is coming from environmental and Indigenous groups. The construction site falls within Big Cypress National Preserve, a region with a long history of resistance to development. Previous attempts to commercialize or repurpose the Dade-Collier site have been halted due to environmental concerns, and activists are determined not to let this latest project succeed either.
Eve Samples of Friends of the Everglades, a longtime conservation group, warned, “We fought this 55 years ago. It remains an extremely dangerous idea.” She refers to past efforts to industrialize or militarize the area, most notably during the Cold War era when the site was proposed as an international airport.
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Those projects never came to fruition, thanks largely to environmental pushback. But this time, state and federal cooperation—backed by the Department of Homeland Security and FEMA’s Shelter and Services Program—appears to be fast-tracking the development.

Tribal members have also joined protests outside the site, warning of irreversible harm to lands that are sacred to Indigenous communities. Many of these lands are historically and spiritually important, containing burial sites, medicinal plants, and wildlife habitats that have been protected for generations. The presence of bulldozers and construction equipment, now under state law enforcement control, has ignited fears that the damage may already be underway.
In addition to ecological devastation, environmentalists warn that constructing a high-capacity facility in such a delicate zone could disrupt the water flow that sustains the Everglades. Altering the land’s hydrology may cause long-term consequences for a region already under stress from climate change and rising sea levels.
Political Motives and Civil Rights Concerns
At the heart of the project lies an unmistakably political agenda. Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem has confirmed that the federal government is largely bankrolling the project under FEMA’s Shelter and Services Program, signaling that the facility is a centerpiece in the broader national crackdown on undocumented immigration.
In a widely shared tweet, Florida Attorney General Uthmeier described the site as a “one-stop shop to carry out President Trump’s mass deportation agenda.” This declaration, while rallying support from conservatives, has deeply alarmed immigration rights organizations and civil liberties advocates.
They argue that turning the Everglades into a massive detention complex is a drastic escalation in immigration enforcement and risks normalizing indefinite detention without adequate oversight. The lack of transparency is another source of contention.
Miami-Dade County, which owns the land, says it was not given sufficient time or information to properly review the project. In a letter to the state, Miami-Dade Mayor Daniella Levine Cava stated that the parcel’s location in a critical ecological zone demands “considerable review and due diligence.” Yet, state officials appear to be sidestepping local input, raising concerns about accountability and governance.

Civil rights groups are now sounding alarms over the potential for abuse, citing the already documented problems with detention facilities across the country, including overcrowding, medical neglect, and poor living conditions. Placing such a facility in a remote, difficult-to-access area only increases the likelihood that abuses will go unnoticed and unreported.
There are also logistical concerns. Transporting detainees, legal representatives, medical personnel, and supply chains through miles of swampy terrain presents serious challenges. Without easy access to legal services and humanitarian aid, detainees could find themselves completely cut off, in both a literal and figurative sense.
As of now, protests are growing outside the site, drawing a coalition of environmentalists, local residents, tribal representatives, and immigration advocates. Despite this, construction continues, and the state remains committed to beginning operations as early as July.
The development of the “Alligator Alcatraz” detention center is a flashpoint at the intersection of immigration policy, environmental conservation, and civil liberties. On one hand, the state of Florida and federal authorities argue that the facility is a necessary response to rising immigration numbers and logistical challenges.
On the other, critics argue that the project is a dangerous, politically motivated venture that threatens both human rights and one of the most ecologically sensitive regions in the United States.
The stakes are high—not just for the detainees who may one day be held within the facility, but for the Everglades ecosystem and the communities who rely on and revere it. As bulldozers press forward and protests mount, the battle over “Alligator Alcatraz” is shaping up to be a defining struggle over the soul and priorities of America’s immigration and environmental future.