A secret ICE directive is testing one of Florida’s strongest traditions: open government

A new directive from U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, issued in secrecy, bars local law enforcement agencies across Florida from answering questions about their role in immigration enforcement, raising concerns about transparency and whether public records are being lawfully observed.

The protocol, which federal sources say is rolling out across the country, deals with ICE’s 287(g) program, which authorizes specially certified local law officers to carry out certain federal immigration enforcement functions. The program has rapidly expanded, with some departments implementing as much as an eightfold increase in the number of officers authorized under the program, according to an investigation by the newsletter Two Can Be True.

The directive, emailed to hundreds of participating Florida and Texas agencies between April 19 and May 5, says that “information obtained or developed” through the arrangement — including any document created by local law enforcement — is “under the control of ICE” and cannot be released without federal approval.

ICE refused various requests to comment for this story.

That secrecy arguably applies to the written directive itself, which was initially obtained on background only from several Florida police departments for fear of retaliation from federal authorities. 

The directive runs counter to Florida’s long tradition that records are assumed to be public unless specifically shielded, although legislatures have carved a slew of exclusions into that law over the years. It also exacerbates uncertainty for residents vulnerable to ICE enforcement.

But it is in keeping with the practices of ICE and its parent, the Department of Homeland Security, whose opacity has extended to hiding the names and status of agents who have shot and killed demonstrators who appeared to pose little threat. 

For “Carla,” an undocumented South Floridian who is hungry for information about enforcement activity in her community, the shroud of secrecy creates a heightened sense of unease.

“It makes me feel more invisible. More vulnerable, like I could just slip through the cracks and nobody would ever know,” she said in Spanish.

John Sandweg, a former director of ICE, said the free flow of information is essential.

 “The public has a right to know who’s being arrested, how they’re being arrested, how many people are being arrested … what kind of criminality, what kind of offenses,” he said. “You can’t deprive the public of that opportunity to make their own judgment by hiding data or restricting access to data.”

But the current administration in Washington has exerted control over what was once a local matter.

“If your agency receives FOIA requests, [S]unshine [L]aw requests, or other similar requests … you should immediately consult with the ICE FOIA office … or your local Field Office Director,” the ICE memo states. “Please keep it in mind particularly in situations when information sharing might otherwise take place, such as press conferences, press releases, media ride alongs, social media postings, and in response to FOIA requests.”

In practice, the memo could prevent agencies from answering even basic questions about their immigration-related operations. 

Katie Blankenship, an immigration attorney and co-founder of Sanctuary of the South, which provides legal services to immigrants navigating detention and deportation in the region, said limiting access to information only deepens the fear of those she represents.

“This is as unconstitutional as it gets, and the bottleneck of information and lack of transparency only allow these unconstitutional acts to proliferate,” Blankenship said, asserting that “officers are acting with impunity, stopping and unlawfully detaining individuals without probable cause or due process.”

“The result: families ripped apart, human beings suffering and dying in ICE detention, economic instability, and communities living in fear,” she added. She said her firm has clients who were picked up by Florida law enforcement “without due process, never charged, and with no paper trail, but were taken to jail and held for ICE to pick up.”

Multiple law enforcement agencies across South Florida confirmed receiving the memo, but would not provide it to a reporter pending clearance from ICE. Federal officials have not publicly announced the directive. ICE did not respond to multiple requests for comment.

Before the directive was issued, local departments could provide straightforward information about their participation in the ICE program — including fulfilling basic requests such as how many officers had been federally certified to conduct immigration enforcement. 

Now, agencies must weigh whether to adhere to federal dictates or comply with state transparency rules, with some directing records custodians and media spokespersons to acknowledge public records requests but not fulfill them unless ICE grants approval, records show.

In one case, legal guidance by the city attorney of Sweetwater– a tiny municipality in South Florida – directs staff to avoid discussing 287(g)-related information publicly, including on social media and at press conferences, without prior clearance from ICE, citing a provision of Florida law as support for that approach.

“We have some cover…Call me when in doubt,” the attorney, Ralph Ventura, wrote. 

But that Florida statute, Chapter 119.071(2)(b),, applies specifically to certain types of criminal intelligence or investigative information — a narrower category than the broad range of data covered under the 287(g) program, which can include civil immigration enforcement actions such as routine encounters — traffic stops, car accidents, responses to noise complaints, or even when someone is reporting a crime as a victim, experts say.

Adam Marshall, director of national litigation at the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press, emphasized that federal agencies cannot override state public records laws.

“The general rule is that state entities cannot contract out of their obligations under state public records laws,” he said. “If a state entity is refusing to respond to a records request simply by citing a DHS policy, I do not think that that is going to pass legal muster.”

Marshall noted that the problem becomes more acute when that consultation with ICE results in denial or extreme wait times. He said even if departments believe they are complying with federal rules, the legal and financial consequences fall on the local agency, and, by extension, local taxpayers who could have to pay attorney and legal costs if the result is litigation over records.

“Government transparency laws exist to remove discretion from officials about what is public and what is not,” Marshall said. “Anything that tries to upset that is outrageous.”

The guidance spreading across the region reflects a broader shift already taking hold across the state. 

The directive was circulated to police departments and sheriff’s offices a few days after Two Can Be True pressed the Miami-Dade Sheriff’s Office — one of the largest law enforcement agencies in the United States — to explain why it had taken more than a month to provide updated figures on how many of its officers had been deputized by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

When the department, following the new policy, attempted to seek clearance from ICE, federal officials indicated ICE would not respond, citing limited funding during the partial government shutdown, according to a source at Homeland Security.

“This is a prime example of ICE-ification of local records. The reasons ICE cited for the silence is absurd: If ICE has the resources to continue implementing its 287(g) program, it has the resources to provide the public with information about it, said Lauren Harper, who advocates for government transparency with the Freedom of the Press Foundation.

Given a recent federal spending boost provided by the One Big, Beautiful Bill Act,  the agency’s lack of transparency reflects a “deliberate policy decision, not a resource constraint,” Harper said.

“The fact the [ICE partnership] program is inherently tied to local communities and local policing, and ICE is giving local law enforcement a gag order, is a slap in the face of taxpayers and the public at large,” she added.

Two Can Be True notified both the Miami-Dade Sheriff’s Office and ICE on April 22 that a story would be published about the new policy blocking access to basic information about immigration enforcement, along with its response citing a lack of funding.

The next day, ICE authorized the release of the information, and the sheriff’s office provided some of the requested figures, but not all the requested documents and information. The reversal highlights how access to information can hinge on federal approval rather than a standard public records process.

Sandweg, who served as acting ICE director in 2013 and 2014,  reviewed the memo sent to Florida law enforcement agencies. He described it as “unusual,” questioning both its scope and justification.

“I can’t think of any operational reason why the department would assert control over any data,” he said. “There are no law enforcement safety reasons or operational security reasons why you would need to keep that data confidential.”

Access to information about how the ICE partnership program operates is narrowing even as the program’s footprint continues to grow nationwide, with more than 1,744 agreements between ICE and local law enforcement agencies, according to ICE data from early May.

The numbers are fluid, but as of May 5, Florida alone accounted for 345 of those agreements, behind only Texas, with 376. The scale makes any shift in how information is controlled far-reaching.

In some departments, that growth has been dramatic.

Though ICE will not disclose how many immigration-certified officers each department has, the Miami-Dade Sheriff’s Office increased its number of certified officers from about 100 to 971 in under four months. 

The surge in participation, which can come with money for detention, is not just about scale, it seeks to reshape how immigration enforcement is carried out in everyday policing.

In November, the Miami-Dade Sheriff’s Office quietly added a 12-page policy to its standard operating procedures, embedding immigration enforcement into routine policing.

Under the policy, deputies who develop “reasonable suspicion” that someone is undocumented can run immigration checks through federal databases. If the person is flagged, a designated immigration officer must be contacted, and once an administrative warrant is confirmed with ICE, deputies may carry out a civil immigration arrest — even if no criminal charges are filed.

The policy also introduces a new processing step: individuals taken into custody are brought to police headquarters for an immigration status check before being transported to jail, where federal authorities may be contacted.

These changes have produced growing fear in immigrant communities, advocates say.

Attorneys and advocates say more undocumented parents are drafting wills and guardianship papers, preparing for the possibility that they could be detained, deported or die during enforcement.

At least 29 people have died nationally in ICE custody since October, marking the highest number of deaths in a single fiscal year since recordkeeping began, according to government data.

The consequences are already being felt beyond the policy itself — including in the cost of accessing public records.

A public records request by Two Can Be True seeking information about the increase in immigration-certified officers was met with a $48,394 estimate from the Miami-Dade Sheriff’s Office —  effectively blocking access altogether. The department ignored messages aimed at narrowing the ask and closed out the records request. 

Under Florida law, local agencies are generally required to produce records in their possession unless a specific exemption applies. 

But the directive places federal authorities between the public and those records when local agencies are acting under federal authority, Sandweg, the former ICE chief, said.

He added: “Generalized restrictions of data can increase the risk of wrongdoing. So yes, transparency is an important tool toward combating misconduct,” he said. “It creates a conflict; these agencies are operating under state public information laws.”

For Carla, the South American immigrant woman in her 40s living in South Florida, the news is not abstract.

She follows it daily, including investigations into immigration enforcement that can lead to children being separated from parents.

Some of her friends have been deported after what started as routine traffic stops. The idea that those moments — and the rules that govern them — could become harder to scrutinize only deepens her own fear, she said.

The woman’s true name and other identifying characteristics are being withheld out of fear that she could be detained.

Carla grew up in Venezuela, where she said the media could not be trusted — where information was controlled, and accountability was limited. 

“In the U.S., the media is here to protect us,” she said. “There are laws that are supposed to protect that freedom. That’s what makes people like me feel safe.”

Without that, she said, the uncertainty becomes overwhelming: “It’s hard not to spiral.”

Monique O. Madan is the founder of Two Can Be True, a newsletter grounded in nearly two decades in newsrooms that explores the intersection of investigative reporting, narrative writing, and lived experience.

This story is available for republication only by express agreement. If you wish to republish, please reach out to Deirdre Conner at deirdre.conner@floridatrib.org or Monique O. Madan at contact@moniqueomadan.com.