Violence Against Guantánamo Detainees, Again

Just weeks after the Trump administration began sending immigration detainees to Guantánamo, the detainees report windowless solitary confinement for up to 23-hours-a-day; denial of drinking water as a form of punishment or retaliation; verbal and psychological abuse, including guards "threatening to shoot detainees"; and "never [being] permitted to contact family members."

These allegations are from a lawsuit filed by the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) on March 1 to prevent new transfers to the offshore prison. The mistreatment is not surprising.

In 1991, U.S. military personnel dressed in riot gear and carrying "rifles with fixed bayonets" attacked Haitian asylum-seekers at Guantánamo—while the Haitians were sleeping.

ICE detention has long aspired to the lawlessness which Guantánamo makes possible.

That's according to an official military history of the detention of thousands of Haitians at the U.S. Naval Station in Cuba. Some of the Haitians had protested delays in their cases, as well as their mistreatment in U.S. custody, after fleeing U.S.-sponsored political violence in their country.

"The stunned migrants offered no resistance," writes the Marine Corps historian in his account of this "humanitarian mission."

In 1993, an American soldier at Guantánamo was angered when a Haitian child urinated in the dirt. The soldier "took the little boy's hand and rubbed it in the urine and mud, and then wiped it in his face and in his mouth," according to a fellow service member who later spoke to documentary filmmakers about his refusal to violently suppress nonviolent protests (see Crowing Rooster Arts, Guantánamo Notes, at 21:29).

In 1995, Haitian children unaccompanied by adults reported being "cracked" by U.S. military guards at Guantánamo: "their hands cuffed behind their back, their feet cuffed and then stepped on... The cuffings often occur[ed] in conjunction with other punishments, such as... being forced to kneel for hours on hot cement or beds of ants," according to the newspaper Haïti Progres.

After a 15-year-old Haitian girl threw food on another girl's bed, American soldiers handcuffed her to a cot in solitary confinement for a day-and-a-half, the girl told a visiting attorney. (You can read more about those imprisoned Haitian children in this pamphlet, published as part of "Ghosts of Guantánamo," a 1995 exhibit in Miami Beach organized to bring attention to those children in a time before social media.)

A brigadier general who acknowledged these incidents said they were not "abuse" but merely the result of "poor judgment and improper disciplinary techniques." A press release from the U.S. Atlantic Command said that the "conduct" of the military was being "closely monitored" by the U.S. immigration service.

Today, as the U.S. military collaborates with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) at Guantánamo, "degrading conditions and extreme isolation have led to several suicide attempts," according to the ACLU.

Remember that these "administrative detainees" are being held for alleged civil violations, and their past crimes are either exaggerated or non-existent.

The conflation of "immigrant" and "criminal" by anti-immigrant movements preceded the Trump administration by decades, of course, but the Trump-Vance campaign took mere lies to a new level, claiming outright that even legal immigrants are "illegal." On January 28, White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt picked up the line, saying that all undocumented immigrants are criminals. (That's not true, either.) Then Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem and Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth parroted the slogan that the immigration detainees sent to Guantánamo are the "worst of the worst." The phrase was popularized by former Vice President Dick Cheney in his justification for sending post-September-11 prisoners to the U.S. base in Cuba, and it was misinformation then, too.

So what is the real point of Guantánamo detentions?

In the 2004 Supreme Court arguments in Rasul v. Bush, concerning the post-9/11 detainees, attorney John Gibbons called the U.S. naval base at Guantánamo a "lawless enclave." That lawlessness had already been tested on the immigration prisoners. It's now more widely understood that the point of imprisoning Haitians—and others, including Cubans and Chinese—in offshore camps on foreign territory controlled by the U.S. was to keep them isolated from the U.S. justice system. Attorney Gibbons was referring to this lack of access to courts and due process.

ICE detention has long aspired to the lawlessness which Guantánamo makes possible. That's part of what the oft-quoted "taking the shackles off" of ICE really means, and it's why the Trump administration has ordered legal organizations to stop helping detained noncitizens within the U.S. even to understand the laws they're accused of breaking, much less to know their own rights under the law. (That order has been blocked by a federal judge for now.)

It's also worth remembering, with all the propaganda about borders and invasion, that the executive's backwards rationale for its claim to unlimited detention authority in Cuba has been that the U.S. is holding the prisoners outside U.S. borders. But Escalona v. Noem, the ACLU lawsuit, argues that the very transfer of immigration detainees from the U.S. to Cuba is illegal under U.S. immigration law. (The 1990s immigration detainees at Guantánamo had been picked up at sea, not transferred from the mainland U.S.)

At Guantánamo, as in ICE detention centers here, the lawlessness of procedure and the brutality of daily mistreatment are part of the same fabric. Isolating the detained persons—from lawyers, family, and the media—is crucial to that project. Trying to break the prisoners' isolation is therefore paramount.