(Fort Bliss, TEXAS) The former World War II internment site at Fort Bliss has been converted into the nation’s largest immigrant detention center, opening inside the sprawling Army base and drawing sharp criticism from civil rights groups and local leaders. As of August 21, 2025, the tent-based facility—costing an estimated $1.2–$1.26 billion—is built to hold up to 5,000 detainees, many under final orders of deportation. Supporters say the move speeds removals and adds capacity; critics call it a dangerous return to past abuses and a model that hides detention from public view.
Senator John Cornyn (R‑Texas), who toured the site, said detainees there are under final deportation orders and “have no legal right to remain.” The Trump administration frames Fort Bliss as part of a broader push to use military installations and personnel to support Immigration and Customs Enforcement operations nationwide. According to analysis by VisaVerge.com, this approach marks a major expansion of detention capacity tied to enforcement, with more base-based camps reportedly planned.

The camp sits deep inside the base perimeter, away from easy public access. Activists say the location reduces oversight, blocks regular visitation, and limits press scrutiny, especially given the site’s tent housing and the desert climate. El Paso summers often top 100°F, and sandstorms are common. Advocates warn that tents, evaporative coolers, and temporary infrastructure won’t protect people from heat stress, dehydration, or respiratory problems.
Historic echoes and new scale
Fort Bliss, home to about 38,000 soldiers, is not new to confinement. During World War II, the base detained roughly 70 first‑generation Japanese‑Americans (Issei) and also held German and Italian immigrants under Executive Order 9066 (signed by President Franklin Roosevelt in 1942). It was not a primary internment camp, but it was an internment site tied to a national system that uprooted families.
After the war, the base also played a role in the early U.S. space program, including work by former Axis scientists. For many locals, the return to detention at Fort Bliss feels like history echoing in painful ways. Community leaders and historians note that using a military base to hold civilians adds symbolic weight beyond the barbed wire—reminding residents that wartime fear once justified mass detention and that present-day policy can repeat it.
The new immigrant detention center is marketed as a temporary, flexible solution with tents that can scale up or down. Opponents argue that “temporary” often becomes permanent policy. They also question the price tag: with operating costs of roughly $1.2–$1.26 billion, critics say large contracts will flow to private vendors while local communities see few benefits and shoulder moral and social costs.
Local pushback and legal questions
Representative Veronica Escobar (D‑El Paso) and Representative Jasmine Crockett (TX‑30) have condemned the facility, pointing to the overlap between past internment and present‑day detention. Local officials in El Paso have passed resolutions demanding:
- Regular reporting
- Public access
- Clear standards for care
The American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) called Fort Bliss a “shameful detention legacy” and a “dystopian” expansion of militarized immigration enforcement. On August 21, 2025, the ACLU and Rep. Crockett hosted a press conference urging closure of the camp and warning that conditions could drive “self‑deportation,” a term advocates use for people who give up legal options because the system feels unbearable.
DHS and ICE say the facility complies with detention guidelines and medical protocols, and that the location improves logistics for transfers and removals. Officials cite advantages such as:
- Faster construction on military land
- Secure perimeters and controlled access
- Proximity to support services and transport hubs
They argue that those housed at Fort Bliss have already received due process and are awaiting removal.
Advocates dispute that picture. Their concerns include:
- Base access rules that curb attorney visits and slow family contact
- Tents that cannot meet medical needs for vulnerable people (chronic illnesses, heat sensitivity)
- The potential repeat of problems reported at a new facility in Florida’s Everglades: unsanitary conditions, overcrowding, and scarce medical care
The ACLU and partner groups are preparing lawsuits aimed at closing the camp or forcing stronger safeguards, including:
- Independent medical checks
- Daily temperature monitoring
- Guaranteed legal access
“Oversight remains the core fight.” Placing a civil detention site inside an Army base restricts public entry and can limit monitoring by local watchdogs. While ICE points to its detention standards, available at https://www.ice.gov/detention-standards, advocates say standards on paper don’t protect people unless inspectors, journalists, lawyers, and family members can see conditions up close and report problems without delay.
Operational pressures and human costs
Inside the economy of detention, contracts grow while timelines shorten. Removing people quickly reduces ICE bed pressure and cuts transfer costs, but speed can also erase legal paths such as motions to reopen or fear-based protection claims that arise from new threats back home. Attorneys warn that the combination of heat, isolation, and fast‑track scheduling can push people to sign removal papers even if they might qualify for relief.
The human toll reaches beyond the wire:
- A parent moved to Fort Bliss may be hundreds of miles from a child’s school, a spouse’s job, and a trusted lawyer.
- Weekend visits can become day‑long drives, and base delays or denials can prevent entry altogether.
- Families face missed rent, lost wages, and children who wake up wondering if a parent will ever return.
Supporters of the Fort Bliss model argue that the United States 🇺🇸 must carry out final orders and that secure, scalable sites help avoid releasing people who will not qualify for relief. They maintain that detention near air hubs and major highways makes removals safer and cheaper. Opponents counter that safety and cost do not excuse:
- Heat risks
- Limited access
- A setting that echoes wartime internment
- The channeling of public money into private hands
Political outlook and next steps
Policy watchers expect more base‑based sites to open under President Trump’s enforcement plan. VisaVerge.com reports that the administration sees military support as key to detaining and deporting millions, with troop deployments and infrastructure at the center of that effort.
In Congress:
- Border-region Democrats want hearings, inspections, and funding limits tied to public reporting.
- Republicans emphasize enforcement, finality of orders, and the need to move quickly.
At Fort Bliss, the tents now stand where a wartime system once held families who had broken no law. Today’s detainees are mostly adults with final orders. The echoes differ, but they are loud.
Whether the camp becomes a short chapter or a lasting feature of immigration enforcement will hinge on:
- Court rulings
- Congressional oversight
- The lived reality inside those tents when the mercury hits triple digits
This Article in a Nutshell
Fort Bliss reopened as a tent detention center on August 21, 2025, housing up to 5,000 people. Critics cite WWII echoes, $1.2–$1.26 billion costs, isolation behind base perimeters, heat risks above 100°F, limited legal access, and potential privatization of contracts—raising calls for oversight, independent checks, and congressional hearings.