Texas Draws Line: Abbott Demands Ban on Sharia Law, Targets CAIR

Paul Riverbank, 1/16/2026Arizona and Texas grapple with surveillance, religious freedom, and who’s trusted to protect our rights.

To law enforcement, this is gold. Catch a stolen SUV, nab a fugitive, maybe even solve an Amber Alert faster — that’s their pitch. But Payne's proposal goes beyond just drawing up some ground rules. The bill aims to tightly lock down all the data these devices gather, shrouding it from anyone outside the police circle. To hear Payne tell it, the measure carves out a “clear line,” shielding citizens from the reach of Big Brother. Yet, it raises a basic question: if the watchers answer only to themselves, who, if anyone, is left to hold them to account?

Folks queasy about unchecked monitoring haven’t forgotten recent scandals. Take Glendale, for instance: cops there used an anti-Romani slur while combing through plate-reader archives. Elsewhere, in cases that are hard to ignore, authorities have deployed these tools to map out the comings and goings of protesters. Worse yet, some of this sensitive data — including footage and license logs — has surfaced online, out in the open, thanks to Flock’s security gaps. The American Civil Liberties Union, never shy about weighing in on privacy, warns this system comes dangerously close to keeping a running log of every journey we take.

It’s not just Arizona where the lines are being redrawn. Over in Texas, Governor Greg Abbott has doubled down on a pledge to squash Sharia law in the state, insisting it’s a matter of national security. Speaking on a Blaze Media broadcast, Abbott lumped mainstream Muslim groups — the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) and the Muslim Brotherhood — into the realm of foreign terror threats. CAIR, now fighting back in court, argues this crusade tramples on basic First Amendment liberties.

Abbott’s not backing down. And the Texas GOP, by nearly every account, is likely to sign off on a ban. His plan? Assign the attorney general to root out any vestige of Sharia and enforce a single system of state law. Critics worry this opens the door to wider religious discrimination — and the courts may end up as the battleground for that.

Stepping back, both states are grappling with the same dilemma: safety versus scrutiny, liberty versus oversight. In Arizona, the new bill all but blocks the public from knowing how, and when, surveillance tools get used. Instead, we’re told to trust that confidential audits — somewhere out of view — will sort things out. Police unions claim it helps focus on the real criminals, nothing more.

Those on the other side are less willing to take it on faith. When mistakes happen — or bias enters the picture — will anyone notice? “When (not if) government officials use this data for nefarious purposes, it is unlikely that they will be held accountable,” the critics insist. It’s tough to argue with that kind of skepticism.

And Texas is wrestling with a loaded question of its own: does one group’s freedom put another’s security at risk? Abbott says there’s no room for alternative legal systems. Supporters point to a long history of courts, not churches or mosques, deciding legal matters. The First Amendment, of course, remains a fierce battleground — both shield and weapon, depending on who’s arguing.

Each fight boils down to trust. Who’s watching whom? And who gets to say where the lines are drawn? When politicians and police insist they alone can guard the gates, citizens are left to wonder whose rights truly make the cut. For Arizona, Texas, and all the communities in between, the answer may reveal more about our future than any single vote or surveillance camera ever could.

Arizona's at a juncture that’ll determine how police tap into high-tech surveillance — and who actually gets to see behind the curtain. Senate Bill 1111, spearheaded by Republican state Sen. Kevin Payne, is stirring up a real debate over those plate-reading cameras rapidly multiplying on city streets. Odds are, if you’ve driven through enough neighborhoods, Flock Safety’s automatic license plate readers (ALPRs) already have your car on file, somewhere. These cameras aren’t rare gadgets anymore; they’re scattered through 5,000 communities, spanning almost every state.To law enforcement, this is gold. Catch a stolen SUV, nab a fugitive, maybe even solve an Amber Alert faster — that’s their pitch. But Payne's proposal goes beyond just drawing up some ground rules. The bill aims to tightly lock down all the data these devices gather, shrouding it from anyone outside the police circle. To hear Payne tell it, the measure carves out a “clear line,” shielding citizens from the reach of Big Brother. Yet, it raises a basic question: if the watchers answer only to themselves, who, if anyone, is left to hold them to account?Folks queasy about unchecked monitoring haven’t forgotten recent scandals. Take Glendale, for instance: cops there used an anti-Romani slur while combing through plate-reader archives. Elsewhere, in cases that are hard to ignore, authorities have deployed these tools to map out the comings and goings of protesters. Worse yet, some of this sensitive data — including footage and license logs — has surfaced online, out in the open, thanks to Flock’s security gaps. The American Civil Liberties Union, never shy about weighing in on privacy, warns this system comes dangerously close to keeping a running log of every journey we take.It’s not just Arizona where the lines are being redrawn. Over in Texas, Governor Greg Abbott has doubled down on a pledge to squash Sharia law in the state, insisting it’s a matter of national security. Speaking on a Blaze Media broadcast, Abbott lumped mainstream Muslim groups — the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) and the Muslim Brotherhood — into the realm of foreign terror threats. CAIR, now fighting back in court, argues this crusade tramples on basic First Amendment liberties.Abbott’s not backing down. And the Texas GOP, by nearly every account, is likely to sign off on a ban. His plan? Assign the attorney general to root out any vestige of Sharia and enforce a single system of state law. Critics worry this opens the door to wider religious discrimination — and the courts may end up as the battleground for that.Stepping back, both states are grappling with the same dilemma: safety versus scrutiny, liberty versus oversight. In Arizona, the new bill all but blocks the public from knowing how, and when, surveillance tools get used. Instead, we’re told to trust that confidential audits — somewhere out of view — will sort things out. Police unions claim it helps focus on the real criminals, nothing more.Those on the other side are less willing to take it on faith. When mistakes happen — or bias enters the picture — will anyone notice? “When (not if) government officials use this data for nefarious purposes, it is unlikely that they will be held accountable,” the critics insist. It’s tough to argue with that kind of skepticism.And Texas is wrestling with a loaded question of its own: does one group’s freedom put another’s security at risk? Abbott says there’s no room for alternative legal systems. Supporters point to a long history of courts, not churches or mosques, deciding legal matters. The First Amendment, of course, remains a fierce battleground — both shield and weapon, depending on who’s arguing.Each fight boils down to trust. Who’s watching whom? And who gets to say where the lines are drawn? When politicians and police insist they alone can guard the gates, citizens are left to wonder whose rights truly make the cut. For Arizona, Texas, and all the communities in between, the answer may reveal more about our future than any single vote or surveillance camera ever could.