In a dramatic turn for Florida’s controversial immigration policies, a federal judge has ordered the shutdown of the “Alligator Alcatraz” detention facility in the Everglades, sparking legal battles, political backlash, and a flurry of questions about the future of immigrant detention in the United States.
On August 21, 2025, U.S. District Judge Kathleen Williams in Miami issued an 82-page order mandating that the Alligator Alcatraz detention center wind down operations within 60 days. The ruling came as a result of a lawsuit filed by Friends of the Everglades, the Center for Biological Diversity, and the Miccosukee Tribe, who argued that the facility’s construction and operation in the heart of sensitive wetlands posed significant environmental threats. According to AP, Williams found that Florida officials failed to conduct the required environmental review and never adequately explained why the center needed to be built in such a location. She wrote, “Plaintiffs have provided extensive evidence supporting their claims of significant ongoing and likely future environmental harms from the project.”
The judge’s order not only halts further expansion but also requires the removal of fencing, lighting, generators, and other temporary equipment within two months of detainee transfers. New detainees are barred from entering, and only safety-related repairs are permitted. The facility’s population, which was fewer than 1,000 at the time of the ruling (though it was designed for up to 3,000), is expected to be relocated to other centers in and outside Florida, such as the Krome North Processing Center in Miami, Broward Transitional Center in Pompano Beach, and the Baker County Detention Center.
Environmental concerns were at the heart of the ruling. As reported by CBS News Miami, Judge Williams highlighted issues like increased light pollution, the addition of 800,000 square feet of asphalt paving (with another million planned), harmful water runoff, and frenetic human activity that was previously absent from the Big Cypress National Preserve area. “The light pollution is far worse now than before the camp’s construction,” Williams noted, emphasizing the adverse effects on the recreational, conservational, and aesthetic interests of environmental groups and the Miccosukee Tribe.
Florida officials have pushed back, disputing claims of environmental harm by pointing to the site’s former use as a flight training airport. However, Williams dismissed these arguments, stating, “While the defendants repeatedly espouse the importance of immigration enforcement, they offered little to no evidence why this detention camp, in this particular location, is uniquely suited and critical to that mission.”
Governor Ron DeSantis was quick to respond, criticizing what he called “an activist judge” and vowing to appeal the decision. “We knew this would be something that would likely happen,” DeSantis said at a press conference in Panama City. “We will respond accordingly. You either have a country or you don’t.” Florida’s administration wasted no time, filing a notice of appeal to the 11th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in Atlanta the same day the ruling was issued. The appeal did not specify the arguments the state would make, but the governor’s office and the Florida Division of Emergency Management have remained tight-lipped about the fate of the hundreds of millions of dollars in contracts tied to the facility.
Financial stakes are high. In July 2025, Florida signed contracts worth at least $245 million with private vendors to set up and operate Alligator Alcatraz, with annual costs projected at $450 million. It remains unclear whether taxpayers will be liable for these contracts if the facility closes, as state officials have not addressed the question publicly.
The legal challenges to Alligator Alcatraz extend beyond environmental concerns. Civil rights groups have filed separate lawsuits alleging that detainees were denied access to attorneys and immigration courts. Eunice Cho, lead attorney for the detainees, told AP that “our case addresses the lack of access to counsel for people detained at Alligator Alcatraz, and there are still people detained there.” While part of the lawsuit was dismissed after the Krome North Processing Center was designated as the court for detainees’ cases, other counts continue to be litigated.
Stories from inside the facility paint a grim picture. Jose Castro, a former detainee originally from Honduras, described medical neglect during his two-week stay, telling CBS News Miami through his wife, “He’s 100% happy because he says they’re not equipped to care for human beings there.” Castro suffered severe swelling in his feet and hands and now uses a wheelchair. His wife, Tania Lambur, added, “His feet are all swollen, so they got so swollen that he’s in a wheelchair and he can’t walk. His hands are swollen too.”
Miami-Dade Mayor Daniella Levine Cava voiced strong support for Judge Williams’ decision, calling it “a victory for the families who have endured unimaginable hardship because of what happens at this facility.” She added, “From the beginning, this detention center was reckless and dangerous. It threatened our precious Everglades and clean drinking water, and it put the safety and well-being of detainees at risk, and it exposed Miami-Dade taxpayers to costs that we should not have been asked to bear.”
The closure of Alligator Alcatraz comes as the Trump administration touts the facility as a model for expanding immigration detention nationwide. According to The Guardian, similar state-federal partnerships are underway, including the “Speedway Slammer” in Indiana, the “Cornhusker Clink” in Nebraska, and plans to use the infamous Angola prison in Louisiana. These developments mark a new, more direct role for states in immigration detention, with the federal government leveraging the controversial 287(g) Program to allow local and state officials to operate large-scale facilities.
Earlier in August, DeSantis announced another state-initiated facility—the “Deportation Depot”—at a former prison west of Jacksonville, slated for 1,300 beds with potential to expand to 2,000. Civil rights advocates and legal experts warn that this blurring of lines between civil immigration detention and criminal incarceration could worsen already dire conditions and create further confusion about detainees’ legal status and rights. “It’s absolutely unprecedented,” said Eunice Cho of the ACLU’s National Prison Project, adding that officials are “very much pushing the boundaries” of their legal authority.
Meanwhile, the number of people in U.S. immigration detention has hit historic highs, with more than 59,000 held nationwide—excluding those at facilities like Alligator Alcatraz, which are omitted from official data. The federal government has set aside funds for 80,000 more beds, but questions remain about oversight, transparency, and the treatment of detainees as more states join the effort.
For now, Alligator Alcatraz stands as both a cautionary tale and a flashpoint in the ongoing debate over immigration, environmental protection, and the role of states in federal enforcement. As the appeals process unfolds and similar projects advance elsewhere, the eyes of the nation—and many concerned Floridians—remain fixed on the Everglades.
