(LOUISIANA, USA) The American Civil Liberties Union is accusing the Trump administration of placing immigrants in inhumane conditions at Angola Prison, focusing fresh scrutiny on the reopening of Camp J and the launch of a new facility, Camp 57, inside the Louisiana State Penitentiary. The ACLU of Louisiana calls the move a “dangerous escalation,” saying it blurs the line between civil immigration detention and criminal incarceration by holding people who often have no criminal convictions in a maximum-security setting designed for the most serious offenders.
Camp J, once known for strict isolation and harsh discipline, was shut down after repeated findings of abuse and preventable deaths. The ACLU argues those findings should have ended any discussion of using the unit for civil detainees. According to the group, immigration detention is a civil process, not criminal punishment, and placing civil detainees in a prison like Angola is a “horrendous abuse of executive power.” The organization also notes that public records requests seeking contracts and communications tied to Camp J’s reopening have gone unanswered, raising red flags about transparency.

Officials have said the Angola complex will house “the most dangerous of criminals.” Yet the ACLU counters with state-level detention data showing that over 70% of immigrants held in Louisiana have never been convicted of a crime. That statistic cuts to the heart of the debate: whether the government is turning to a punitive model for a population that, in most cases, is involved in civil proceedings before an immigration judge rather than criminal court.
Reopening of Camp J and the launch of Camp 57
The controversy gained new momentum in September 2025, when the Department of Homeland Security and Louisiana Governor Jeff Landry announced the opening of Camp 57, an Immigration and Customs Enforcement unit inside Angola with capacity for over 400 undocumented immigrants convicted of serious crimes.
Officials described the new facility as housing only “high-risk alien individuals and criminals,” pointing to cases with serious convictions to justify the setting and security level. The announcement has not calmed civil rights groups.
They argue Camp 57 does not erase the broader problem: the government’s willingness to place civil detainees—many of whom have no criminal record—within or adjacent to a prison long tied to abuse claims. The ACLU says Camp 57’s debut inside Angola signals a policy shift that treats immigration as a public safety threat first and a civil matter second.
According to analysis by VisaVerge.com, the move reflects a broader federal focus on building detention capacity while pushing faster removals. From Washington, the policy push is backed by money: the Trump administration’s newly approved budget includes a $170 billion increase for immigration enforcement.
Key components of the funding and policy push:
– Expansion of detention beds and facilities
– Growth of programs such as 287(g), allowing local law enforcement to partner with ICE
– Emphasis on faster removals and broader enforcement
Supporters say this improves custody of people with criminal histories. Critics say it risks funneling people with minor infractions—or none—into harsh facilities like Angola.
Legal objections and civil liberties concerns
The ACLU maintains that housing immigrants in such conditions violates constitutional protections, including due process and the right to counsel. The group points to past litigation over prison-like detention, citing earlier lawsuits that challenged the government’s decision to hold immigrants in federal prisons under conditions described as unsafe and unlawful (including at FCI Victorville in California).
The organization warns that placing civil detainees behind prison walls can:
– Limit access to attorneys
– Hinder family contact
– Lead to gaps in medical care
– Exacerbate problems in isolated rural facilities
The ACLU’s specific claims and concerns:
– Reopening Camp J exposes civil detainees to settings shaped by punishment rather than civil custody
– Public records requests about Camp J have not been answered, fueling questions about oversight and accountability
– Louisiana officials insist the Angola units will hold only people who pose serious risks, emphasizing public safety
What happens inside the facility matters beyond the prison gates. People held at Angola often face:
– Long distances to immigration legal help
– Fewer community ties
– Scarce visitation options
Families often live hours away, and lawyers must spend more time and money to reach clients. Those realities can slow bond hearings and make it harder for people to prepare their cases. The ACLU argues that this setup—especially at a site with a documented history of harsh treatment—raises the risk of rights violations that are difficult to catch in real time.
Standards, oversight, and practical implications
Immigration detention rules are supposed to follow civil standards, not criminal prison norms. ICE policy, including the agency’s national detention standards, sets requirements for medical care, legal access, and grievance systems. The ACLU says those standards cannot be met in a setting like Camp J’s legacy of isolation.
An official resource describing detention standards is available through ICE’s detention standards, which sets the baseline for facility operations. The debate in Louisiana is whether a maximum-security prison can meet those civil standards in practice, not just on paper.
Immediate practical questions for people detained in these units include:
1. Will detainees be able to see a lawyer when needed?
2. Can they call and communicate with family?
3. Will they receive timely and adequate medical care?
In a rural, maximum-security environment, those basic needs can become hard to meet.
The ACLU’s demand is clear: full transparency, public oversight, and a halt to placing civil detainees in units tied to punishments never intended for immigration cases. As the group put it, Louisiana should not “outsource human suffering behind closed doors.”
Political stakes and broader implications
Supporters of the Angola plan argue:
– The government needs space to hold people with serious criminal records
– High-security units are appropriate for individuals who pose significant risks
– Communities deserve protection
Opponents counter:
– The state’s record on incarceration should give pause, especially where Camp J was closed amid abuse findings
– Labeling detainees as “criminals” can obscure the fact that many have no convictions
– Expanded enforcement (including more 287(g) partnerships) increases the risk that low-level or non-criminal contacts lead to detention and removal
The ACLU’s broader warning is about direction: the organization says the administration is moving toward mass detention and removal strategies that risk eroding civil liberties on a wide scale. With expanded 287(g) partnerships, more traffic stops and local arrests could lead to ICE holds—even for people with old or low-level offenses—or none at all. That raises the chance that families will be separated and that people seeking asylum or other relief will be rushed through the system.
Conclusion and outlook
The issue sits at the intersection of public safety, civil rights, and immigration policy. Whether Camp J’s legacy and Camp 57’s launch mark a durable shift—or face legal and political pushback—will shape how the United States 🇺🇸 treats people in civil custody in the months ahead.
This Article in a Nutshell
The ACLU of Louisiana accuses the federal government of subjecting civil immigration detainees to inhumane conditions by reopening Camp J and opening Camp 57 inside Angola Prison. Camp J was previously closed after findings of abuse and preventable deaths; critics say using it for civil detainees blurs the line between civil immigration custody and criminal incarceration. Officials insist Camp 57 will house high-risk, convicted individuals and point to public safety needs. The ACLU counters that over 70% of immigrants detained in Louisiana have no criminal convictions, raising due-process, legal-access, medical-care and transparency concerns. The dispute occurs amid a federal push to expand detention capacity and a $170 billion increase for immigration enforcement, prompting legal and oversight challenges that could shape detention policy.