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GUEST COMMENTARY - For decades, Guantanamo Bay has been a symbol of injustice, human rights violations, and the U.S.'s willingness to circumvent international law in its pursuit of control. While the facility is primarily associated with the detention of "terrorists" under the guise of national security, a new and disturbing chapter is emerging. The U.S. is now considering expanding Guantanamo Bay’s role—to detain migrants in a new and troubling iteration of American detention policy.
The story of Guantanamo Bay as a migrant detention site stretches further back than many realize. In 1991, over 32,000 Haitian men, women, and children fled a violent military dictatorship in Haiti, seeking refuge from a brutal regime that had ousted President Jean-Bertrand Aristide. Intercepted by the U.S. Coast Guard, these desperate refugees were taken to Guantanamo Bay, where they were detained in overcrowded, barbed-wire camps while their asylum claims were processed. The majority were soon classified as "economic migrants" and returned to Haiti; despite the dangers they faced.
U.S. courts of the time ruled that these Haitian detainees had "no substantive rights" under American law. Many endured inhumane treatment, including solitary confinement and beatings. A female detainee recalled: "When we protested, I was beaten… made to sleep on the ground like animals, like dogs, not like humans." These words still reverberate across time, signaling the uncomfortable truth: Guantanamo Bay has long been a place of anguish for marginalized people seeking refuge.
On January 29, President Trump signed an executive order directing the secretaries of the Department of Defense and the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) to "expand the Migrant Operations Center at Naval Station Guantanamo Bay to full capacity." This facility, separate from the high-security prison holding al-Qaeda detainees, has been used to detain individuals intercepted trying to reach the U.S. by boat, primarily Haitians and Cubans.
Currently, the "Migrant Operations Center" is a small, isolated part of the base with limited capacity. However, the executive order signals a significant expansion, suggesting that the U.S. government may transform Guantanamo into a focal point for a larger, more militarized immigration detention effort. "There's a lot of space to accommodate a lot of people," Trump said in the Oval Office. "So we're going to use it."
The administration is framing the expansion as a response to "the worst of the worst." U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) Director Thomas Homan, along with Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem, has described the expanded facility as a space for securing dangerous individuals. Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth also confirmed that the U.S. military would play a significant role in “expulsions and mass deportations” of undocumented migrants. Already, 150 service members have been deployed to GITMO in preparation for the facility’s expansion.
Despite its small size, the Migrant Operations Center has been notorious for its harsh conditions. Descriptions from organizations like the International Refugee Assistance Project have painted a bleak picture, describing the facility as "prison-like" with little accountability. Deepa Alagesan, a senior attorney with the group, voiced concerns about the expansion, calling it "a scary prospect."
The new policies underscore the troubling trend toward a more militarized, punitive approach to immigration. Thousands of migrants are already detained in facilities across the U.S., many of which are private detention centers or local jails. These facilities are often ill-equipped to accommodate families, which make up nearly a third of all migrant arrivals. During Trump’s first term, the use of military bases to house detained migrant children mirrored similar actions under the Obama administration. These detention practices are a continuation of policies that have historically targeted refugees fleeing war and poverty, including those from Vietnam, Cuba, Haiti, Kosovo, and Afghanistan.
What does this mean for the future of U.S. immigration policy? If Guantanamo becomes the hub for mass detention, it risks setting a dangerous precedent for how the U.S. processes and detains migrants. The expansion of military-run facilities to house undocumented individuals would strip detainees of legal recourse and potentially open the door for indefinite detention.
The lessons from Guantanamo’s past should not be ignored. The mistreatment of Haitian refugees in the 1990s should serve as a reminder of the dangers of expanding these detention operations, particularly in a system that already prioritizes punishment over humanity. But history also teaches us that we are not powerless to change this future.
The proposed expansion of Guantanamo Bay as a detention center for migrants would not only entrench a system of inhumane treatment but also send a troubling message about how the U.S. views refugees and immigrants. This is not just an issue for the U.S.; it is a global one that must be addressed by standing up against militarized deportations and mass detention policies.
We must recognize the humanity of those seeking refuge. Behind the headlines of "national security" and "the worst of the worst" are individuals and families fleeing violence, persecution, and poverty. The decision to flee one’s home is never easy, and the responsibility of welcoming them should not be taken lightly.
This is an issue that will define the moral character of the U.S. for generations. It’s time we take a stand—against the militarization of immigration policy, against the dehumanization of migrants, and for a future that prioritizes human rights over fear and control. As the late President Jimmy Carter once said: “The true test of a nation's character is how it treats those who are most vulnerable.”
What kind of country do we want to be? One that upholds the dignity and rights of all people, or one that continues to use military and detention centers as tools of oppression. The choice is ours.
(George Cassidy Payne is a writer, educator, counselor, and social justice advocate. Payne has worked in the non-profit sector for over 25 years. He has Liberal Arts degrees from St. John Fisher University, Colgate Rochester Crozer Divinity School, and Emory University. He lives and works in Rochester, NY.)
