Trump’s Guantánamo Expansion for Migrants Reopens Old Wounds

Edited by Sam Thielman

JUST A QUICK NOTE FROM ME before we bring you this personal reflection on the revitalization of Guantanamo Bay from former Guantanamo detainee and FOREVER WARS friend Mansoor Adayfi. Right before Mansoor sent his draft, I read an explainer piece in the New York Times titled "Deportations Only Work if Countries Agree To Take Citizens Back." Its final third was a subsection titled "The Guantanamo Option" that came close to the point of expanding Guantanamo but, for reasons I won't speculate on, flinched. Here's the moment where the piece's imagination fails: 

[E]ven if the detention plan survives legal challenges, the utility of a Guantanamo facility would only go so far. A 30,000-person detention facility is enormous, compared with the 40,000 immigrants currently being held in private detention centers and local jails within the United States. But Guantanamo would hold only a tiny fraction of the millions of migrants that President Trump has pledged to deport, and would be costly to operate indefinitely. 

This is Guantanamo Bay and mass deportation as abstractions in a newsroom: shoehorned into an orderly, lawful, civilized frame when the point holding tens of thousands of migrants in cages where impunity reigns is to smash that frame into splinters. Better to listen to the warnings of human beings who have been demonized and locked up there.—Spencer 

On Thursday, President Donald Trump signed an executive order to expand the Migrant Operations Center at Guantánamo Bay, aiming to detain up to 30,000 migrants labeled “high-priority criminal aliens.” For many, including myself, this decision is a painful reminder of the facility’s dark history—a history marked by torture, indefinite detention, and systemic dehumanization.

Guantánamo Bay, a name synonymous with human rights abuses, was first repurposed in 2002 under President George W. Bush and Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld as a detention center for individuals branded as “the worst of the worst.” I was among those detainees—abducted, shackled, and transported like cargo, blindfolded and unaware of my fate. The memories of roaring military planes, soldiers barking orders, and the growls of attack dogs still haunt me.

The U.S. government justified our detention by branding us dangerous terrorists, a narrative that allowed for our indefinite imprisonment without charge or trial. Now, over two decades later, a similar narrative is being constructed. President Trump’s rhetoric, labeling migrants “the worst criminal illegal aliens,” is a deliberate and dehumanizing tactic that opens the door to further abuses under the guise of national security.

This decision is not just a policy shift, it’s a moral failure. Having endured nearly 15 years in Guantánamo without due process, subject to torture and inhumane conditions, I can attest to the facility’s capacity for cruelty. I shared those cages with innocent men and even children, all victims of a system designed to strip away their humanity.

Guantánamo Bay remains one of the world’s most secretive and expensive prisons. Its remote location and stringent security measures ensure that the atrocities committed inside its walls remain hidden from public scrutiny. By choosing to detain migrants there, the U.S. government is sending a clear message: It prioritizes deterrence over dignity, and punishment over compassion.

This move is the culmination of years of rhetoric. During his 2016 campaign, Trump vowed to keep Guantánamo open. In 2019, he floated the idea of classifying migrants as enemy combatants and sending them there. Today’s executive order makes those threats a reality. And at what cost? How many innocent people will be stripped of their rights and isolated from the world? How many families will be torn apart by conditions that defy common decency?

Guantánamo has long served as a symbol of injustice and the abuse of power. It has been a testing ground for torture, a place where the rule of law is dead, and justice is denied. The decision to repurpose it for migrant detention is a stark reminder of the U.S. government’s willingness to sidestep international norms in favor of political expediency.

The choice of Guantánamo for the new migrant detention facility is meant to instill fear, distract political opponents, and satisfy a base that thrives on exclusionary policies. By selecting a location synonymous with torture and human rights violations, the administration is doubling down on its commitment to sadism.

For years, even during my detention, I have fought for justice, the closure of Guantánamo, and accountability for its abuses. Today, I call on the international community, human rights organizations, and individuals of conscience to join this fight. We must demand the closure of Guantánamo and resist any attempts to use it as a tool of oppression.

The world cannot afford to look away. We must stand together to uphold the principles of human rights and dignity. The legacy of Guantánamo is one of suffering and injustice, and we cannot allow history to repeat itself.

In the words of the late Nelson Mandela, “To deny people their human rights is to challenge their very humanity.” Let us not deny the humanity of those seeking refuge and a better life. Let us choose justice over cruelty and compassion over indifference.

Together, we can ensure that Guantánamo becomes a relic of the past, not a blueprint for the future.

Mansoor Adayfi is a former Guantanamo prisoner, activist, and CAGE's Guantanamo Project Coordinator.