Abbott Cracks Down: Texas Bans Muslim Groups From Buying Land

Paul Riverbank, 11/19/2025Texas bans Muslim groups from land ownership, igniting legal, religious freedom, and discrimination debates.

Standing at the intersection of policy enforcement and showmanship, Abbott didn’t echo the standard bureaucratic caution. In his words, the Muslim Brotherhood and CAIR “have long made their goals clear: to forcibly impose Sharia law and establish Islam’s ‘mastership of the world’.” Abbott defended his decision as a matter of safeguarding the state. The rhetoric was direct, perhaps even incendiary: “These radical extremists are not welcome in our state.”

This act doesn't exist in a vacuum. It comes on the heels of a law passed earlier against alleged “Sharia compounds,” and fits into the broader narrative Abbott has built around his border security crackdown known as Operation Lone Star. If you ask state advisors, they point to a tangle of issues going back years, mentioning federal suspicions—claims that the FBI once regarded CAIR as fronting for Hamas. One Texan founder of CAIR, Ghassan Elashi, has cropped up frequently in their defenses; Elashi’s 2009 convictions on terrorism finance have been recited almost as a mantra.

Supporters say Abbott is aligning with precedents abroad. “You see bans on the Muslim Brotherhood in places like Egypt, Jordan, even Saudi Arabia,” an aide noted, suggesting that Texas couldn’t just leave the question to Washington’s pace.

Unsurprisingly, the backlash has been immediate—and sharp. CAIR’s response labeled the order “baseless and inflammatory,” emphasizing their record: “We denounce violence everywhere,” the organization said, pushing back against what they call conspiracy theories and fabricated quotes. They’ve beaten similar accusations in court before, and they’re ready for another legal showdown, resting their hopes on First Amendment guarantees.

Legal experts are now parsing the logic and authority behind Abbott’s move. “There are going to be some First Amendment questions about whether investigations here are really trying to find violators of the law or just trying to bother people that have a certain political perspective on some very touchy issues,” said Dallas attorney David Coale. Several legal scholars have pointed out a basic, almost glaring problem: while federal authorities maintain the official registry of foreign terrorist organizations, no state has the power to unilaterally add groups to that list.

Context only adds to the friction. Neither CAIR nor the Muslim Brotherhood appear on the U.S. government’s roster of terrorist groups. The Muslim Brotherhood is notoriously diffuse—depending on the country, its branches may run political parties that stand for elections, or exist as social movements. That inconsistency is precisely what’s stymied even seasoned analysts in the U.S. State Department for years.

On the ground, Abbott’s decision lands with a thud. Consider a North Texas construction project: several hundred acres, planned as a Muslim-led residential community anchored by a mosque. With the new order, everything stops. The state has launched a review to determine whether this project or others like it fall under what Abbott calls “subverting our laws through violence, intimidation, and harassment.” At stake isn’t just real estate; the very ability of faith-based communities to build homes or places of worship could hang in the balance.

The echoes reach further than one development. Civil liberties organizations and several state lawmakers have already denounced the policy. State Rep. Ron Reynolds described it as “state-sanctioned discrimination,” likening it to the era of Jim Crow. Yet on the other end, Abbott’s supporters are circling the wagons. Allen West, a prominent Texas Republican, framed the action as long overdue: “What the governor has realized is that this is all tied together. He’s taking a proactive stance to cut that tie of resourcing and support.”

The real test is likely to come not in the press but in the courts. Legal challenges seem inevitable, raising fundamental questions: Can a state government outlaw a religious group’s property rights? Does the line between national security and constitutional freedoms shift when tensions run high? The answers will not come quickly.

For now, Texas stands isolated, its approach both aggressive and untested. Whether the state’s gamble brings other governments to its side or lands in federal court as an object lesson in overreach, the story is only beginning. This week, as Abbott doubled down on the intersection of religious liberty and security, the rest of the country is left to reckon with the shadow cast by the Lone Star State.

Texas Governor Greg Abbott turned heads this week with a surprise move angling straight at two organizations: the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) and the Muslim Brotherhood. His directive—labeling both groups as foreign terrorist organizations—was as much a political statement as a practical order. In one stroke, not only are they now prohibited from purchasing or possessing Texas land, but a wider debate has burst into the open, with Abbott staking out a position few states have dared even to consider.Standing at the intersection of policy enforcement and showmanship, Abbott didn’t echo the standard bureaucratic caution. In his words, the Muslim Brotherhood and CAIR “have long made their goals clear: to forcibly impose Sharia law and establish Islam’s ‘mastership of the world’.” Abbott defended his decision as a matter of safeguarding the state. The rhetoric was direct, perhaps even incendiary: “These radical extremists are not welcome in our state.”This act doesn't exist in a vacuum. It comes on the heels of a law passed earlier against alleged “Sharia compounds,” and fits into the broader narrative Abbott has built around his border security crackdown known as Operation Lone Star. If you ask state advisors, they point to a tangle of issues going back years, mentioning federal suspicions—claims that the FBI once regarded CAIR as fronting for Hamas. One Texan founder of CAIR, Ghassan Elashi, has cropped up frequently in their defenses; Elashi’s 2009 convictions on terrorism finance have been recited almost as a mantra.Supporters say Abbott is aligning with precedents abroad. “You see bans on the Muslim Brotherhood in places like Egypt, Jordan, even Saudi Arabia,” an aide noted, suggesting that Texas couldn’t just leave the question to Washington’s pace.Unsurprisingly, the backlash has been immediate—and sharp. CAIR’s response labeled the order “baseless and inflammatory,” emphasizing their record: “We denounce violence everywhere,” the organization said, pushing back against what they call conspiracy theories and fabricated quotes. They’ve beaten similar accusations in court before, and they’re ready for another legal showdown, resting their hopes on First Amendment guarantees.Legal experts are now parsing the logic and authority behind Abbott’s move. “There are going to be some First Amendment questions about whether investigations here are really trying to find violators of the law or just trying to bother people that have a certain political perspective on some very touchy issues,” said Dallas attorney David Coale. Several legal scholars have pointed out a basic, almost glaring problem: while federal authorities maintain the official registry of foreign terrorist organizations, no state has the power to unilaterally add groups to that list.Context only adds to the friction. Neither CAIR nor the Muslim Brotherhood appear on the U.S. government’s roster of terrorist groups. The Muslim Brotherhood is notoriously diffuse—depending on the country, its branches may run political parties that stand for elections, or exist as social movements. That inconsistency is precisely what’s stymied even seasoned analysts in the U.S. State Department for years.On the ground, Abbott’s decision lands with a thud. Consider a North Texas construction project: several hundred acres, planned as a Muslim-led residential community anchored by a mosque. With the new order, everything stops. The state has launched a review to determine whether this project or others like it fall under what Abbott calls “subverting our laws through violence, intimidation, and harassment.” At stake isn’t just real estate; the very ability of faith-based communities to build homes or places of worship could hang in the balance.The echoes reach further than one development. Civil liberties organizations and several state lawmakers have already denounced the policy. State Rep. Ron Reynolds described it as “state-sanctioned discrimination,” likening it to the era of Jim Crow. Yet on the other end, Abbott’s supporters are circling the wagons. Allen West, a prominent Texas Republican, framed the action as long overdue: “What the governor has realized is that this is all tied together. He’s taking a proactive stance to cut that tie of resourcing and support.”The real test is likely to come not in the press but in the courts. Legal challenges seem inevitable, raising fundamental questions: Can a state government outlaw a religious group’s property rights? Does the line between national security and constitutional freedoms shift when tensions run high? The answers will not come quickly.For now, Texas stands isolated, its approach both aggressive and untested. Whether the state’s gamble brings other governments to its side or lands in federal court as an object lesson in overreach, the story is only beginning. This week, as Abbott doubled down on the intersection of religious liberty and security, the rest of the country is left to reckon with the shadow cast by the Lone Star State.