The Enduring Appeal of “The Rock”: From Alcatraz to France’s New High-Security Prison
A century after its inception, the debate over the effectiveness of maximum-security prisons continues as France revives arguments for isolating criminals, echoing the rationale behind the infamous Alcatraz.
On May 27, 1934, Homer S. Cummings, the newly appointed Attorney General of the United States, took office with a stark assessment: existing detention facilities were insufficient to contain the far-reaching influence of incarcerated criminals. This realization sparked a bold, and ultimately controversial, idea – to repurpose the abandoned military barracks on Alcatraz Island, in the bay of San Francisco, as the nation’s most secure prison. Alcatraz, isolated by the frigid waters of the Pacific and perceived as inherently forbidding, was deemed the perfect symbolic and practical solution.
The prison operated on the premise that criminals were akin to a “virus,” dangerous and contagious, requiring absolute containment. As one official stated at the time, the goal was to create a system where the walls themselves were an impenetrable barrier. Director Johnston, appointed to oversee the facility, ruled with an iron fist, establishing strict internal regulations and dispensing harsh punishments for any infraction. He held the sole power to determine when, or if, an inmate’s isolation would end.
Al Capone and the Brutality Within “The Rock”
Al Capone, the notorious “King of Chicago,” arrived at Alcatraz on August 22, 1934, assigned prisoner number 85 – a designation that would become his final identity. Initially, Capone was granted the privilege of forming an orchestra and acquiring musical instruments. However, this brief respite from the harsh realities of prison life was abruptly shattered when a fellow inmate used a saxophone and a lead weight to inflict a brutal attack, crushing another prisoner’s skull. As the account reveals, “music does not soften customs everywhere!”
The conditions within Alcatraz were far from humane. In 1936, an incident involving a chisel discovered embedded in Al Capone’s rib cage – where it remained lodged – prompted an inspection that exposed the “terrible and inhuman conditions of detention” at the facility. The prison, dubbed a “Tarpéienne rock” – a reference to a site of capital execution in ancient Rome – quickly devolved into a place of modern torture. The prevailing philosophy was chillingly direct: the enemy of the law was to be systematically broken, with no prospect of rehabilitation or reintegration. “A grave for the lucky ones,” as one observer described it.
Capone himself succumbed to the harsh environment, dying on February 5, 1938, ravaged by syphilis that had been diagnosed but left untreated. His decline served as a symbolic victory for James Herbert Wilkerson, the magistrate who had convicted him for tax evasion. The case underscored a clear message: even the most powerful criminals would be held accountable for financial transgressions.
Echoes of the Past: France’s Vendin-le-Vieil
Nearly a century later, on July 30, 2025, France announced the reopening of the Vendin-le-Vieil detention center, resurrecting the very arguments that underpinned the creation of Alcatraz. The justification centered on “absolute waterproofing,” high security, and the need for a demonstrably severe punishment to deter organized crime. The project, replete with helicopter transfers and extensive security measures, was presented as a firm stance against escalating criminal activity. As one commentator noted, “The Republic in Citizen arms maturing crime. This is another beautiful parade!”
The rhetoric employed in 2025 mirrored that of 1934 – a relentless, unforgiving approach to dealing with major offenders. The prevailing sentiment was that both the punishment and the confinement must be as severe as the crimes themselves. This reflects an intolerant societal stance, prioritizing self-protection over the individual fates of those deemed “aristocrats of organized crime,” whether within the walls of Vendin-le-Vieil or, historically, Alcatraz.
A Cycle of Ineffectiveness
Despite the unwavering commitment to these high-security models, there remains a fundamental question: do they actually work? Critics point to the fact that Alcatraz, despite its formidable reputation, did not demonstrably reduce the overall crime rate. Across the Atlantic, the crime rate had not dropped “with an iota” due to the confinement of the hundred detainees. The prison, it is argued, served only as a symbol – a potent, but ultimately ineffective, display of judicial power. It was, as one analyst put it, “a perlimpinpin powder, one more!”
In 1963, Alcatraz was closed and transformed into a museum, a testament to its failed promise. The hope, as expressed by many, is that a similar fate awaits Vendin-le-Vieil in the years to come. Because, as history demonstrates, this detention regime, much like the death penalty, fails to fulfill its purported role of deterrence.
