Camp 57, Mustang Republic, Alligator Alcatraz and the Crusade of Deterrence

The backdrop could hardly be more symbolic: barbed wire, scorched grass, the flag above, Governor Jeff Landry in front, flanked by Secretary of Homeland Security Kristi Noem. In the images released by his press office, black Ford Raptors and GMC Yukons gleam with gold ICE logos, as if this were the premiere of a new SUV model and not the opening of an internment camp. But that is exactly what it is: Camp 57 – now officially "Louisiana Lockup" – is the new showpiece of Donald Trump's immigration policy. Here, in the middle of the Louisiana State Penitentiary, better known as Angola, more than 400 men are to be interned, "the worst of the worst," as Noem put it.

Angola is a place with a heavy history. The 18,000-acre facility bears the name of the African country of origin of those enslaved who were forced to work these fields. Later Angola was notorious as the "bloodiest prison in the South." In 1962 the number of stabbings was so high that the nickname became known nationwide. In the 1970s inmates sued against forced labor, in the 2020s human rights groups documented that prisoners had to harvest vegetables by hand in over 100-degree heat – for pennies. In 2021 a federal judge ruled that medical care was unconstitutionally inadequate. Instead of drawing consequences from this history, Landry makes it the core of his brand. Noem said it openly: "This prison is notorious. That is exactly why we chose it."

The project is not isolated. In Florida the Trump administration operates "Alligator Alcatraz" – a converted airfield in the middle of the Everglades. A federal judge had ordered its closure, but an appeals court recently stayed the ruling. In Nebraska the "Cornhusker Clink" is being built, in Indiana the "Speedway Slammer." It is a veritable franchise policy: detention camps with marketing names that sell toughness as a lifestyle. Landry put it bluntly at the opening: "Louisiana will be an example for the rest of the country. If you are here illegally, your time in America ends."

But while the government stages toughness, human rights fall by the wayside. Camp 57 is being built in a part of the prison that used to be called "The Dungeon" because it was used almost exclusively for solitary confinement. International standards such as the UN Standard Minimum Rules for the Treatment of Prisoners ("Nelson Mandela Rules") warn against such practices because they are considered inhuman. Now people, many of whom have not even been convicted, are being brought to exactly this place. Critics speak of a modern "black site" – only without secrecy.

Fitting this mixture of penal zeal and PR is the fleet of vehicles ICE purchased for its show. Internal documents we were able to view bear the sober title "Justification & Approval" J&A-25-0306. In them ICE explains why within three days two Ford Mustang GTs had to be procured for $121,450 – without a call for tenders, allegedly due to "extraordinary urgency." The purpose: recruitment videos. At the same time two GMC Yukon AT4S were ordered for almost $190,000 and several Ford Raptor 4×4 Light Duty Pickups for $196,220 – all marked "for recruitment purposes." On August 29, 2025 we published our investigation on this under the link: https://kaizen-blog.org/en/die-mustang-republik-wie-ice-steuergelder-in-trumps-showcars-verbrennt/

The captured statements about the new prison in Louisiana are accordingly angry: "Other countries celebrate innovations. We celebrate new prisons." – "This is a concentration camp, call it what it is." – "How many millions of taxpayer dollars are flowing into these videos?" And a man from St. Francisville summed up the political economy behind it: "It's not about locking up bad people, it's about filling beds so the system makes a profit."

Particularly cynical is Jeff Landry's religious choreography, designed to present him as a virtuous Christian. On the Mississippi he had trumpets sound before an oversized cross, prayers recited, and stood with his head bowed while around him Republicans in cowboy hats performed the same ritual – a spectacle that turns piety into the absurdity of a policy. To his supporters he is the "Christian governor" who defends law and order. To critics it is sheer religious mania: preaching grace while sending people to a prison that uses forced labor.

Camp 57 is thus more than a new detention facility. It is the symbol of a policy that aestheticizes deterrence, relativizes human rights, and celebrates itself. It connects the history of slavery with the present of mass deportations, PR strategies with incarceration, and ultimately leaves open the question of whether this really brings security – or merely a new normal of dehumanization.