Senator Ted Cruz and Governor Greg Abbott used a Republican midterm convention in Dallas to declare that Sharia law "has no place in America," drawing sharp pushback from Muslim American scholars and advocacy groups who call the rhetoric a misrepresentation of their faith.
Cruz drew some of the loudest cheers at the convention when he told the crowd, "We need to stand together and stop it now." Moments later, Abbott took the stage and vowed to "fully ban Sharia law in Texas." The back-to-back speeches put the issue squarely in the midterm spotlight, and set off a public exchange between Republican officeholders and Muslim civic leaders over what Sharia actually means, whether it poses a legal threat, and who benefits from the fight.
The convention speeches are the latest escalation in a campaign that now stretches across Congress, the Texas attorney general's office, and the campaign trail. For conservatives, the question is straightforward: American law should govern American life, and any parallel legal system that claims authority over citizens, particularly one rooted in foreign religious codes, deserves scrutiny. For Muslim Americans, the rhetoric lumps ordinary religious practice together with the coercive state enforcement seen in a handful of nations overseas, and they want voters to know the difference.
The congressional arm of the effort is the Sharia-Free America Caucus, co-founded last December by Texas Representatives Keith Self and Chip Roy. At last count the caucus had more than 60 members, all Republicans. It has introduced several anti-Sharia bills, though none have been successful so far.
Roy framed the stakes in civilizational terms earlier this year.
"Sharia is a direct threat to our Constitution and Western values and seeks to replace our legal system and erode our basic freedoms. Our immigration system must be prepared to confront this challenge and defend our Judeo-Christian values."
The Council on American-Islamic Relations responded by designating the caucus an anti-Muslim hate group. CAIR's research and advocacy director, Corey Saylor, told the AP the comparison he sees is historical, not hypothetical.
"The bigoted rhetoric used by this caucus resembles the hatred that anti-Catholic politicians once unleashed against Irish Americans. No one who wrote the Constitution or enforced it since has empowered these legislators to pick which religions get to exist in America."
Saylor also asserted that "Islam is an American faith, present for over 250 years." That claim puts CAIR on familiar ground, the organization routinely frames anti-Sharia legislation as a First Amendment issue. But supporters of the caucus counter that the concern is not private worship; it is the emergence of quasi-judicial bodies that could function outside American courts.
Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton moved the debate from rhetoric to enforcement in August, when he demanded documents from the Dallas-based Islamic Tribunal. His office issued a news release stating the investigation sought to determine whether the tribunal was engaged in illegal activity, specifically, whether it was acting as a court, applying foreign laws that conflict with Texas or federal law, or issuing rulings that imply government authority.
"This is America, and we will not be governed by sharia law," Paxton said in the release.
The Islamic Tribunal subsequently updated its website with a "Clarification of Mission and Activities." The statement drew a line between the tribunal's work and the legal system, saying it "complements, and never replaces, the legal, social, and professional services available in American society." It added that the tribunal "does not function as a court of law and does not issue legally binding judgments," and described its role as "limited to mediation and religious arbitration requested by members of the Muslim community in matters related to faith, family guidance, and internal religious affairs."
The tribunal likened its work to Jewish Beth Din courts and Catholic ecclesiastical tribunals, both of which operate in the United States as private religious bodies without the force of law. Whether Paxton's investigation has resulted in any formal legal action, findings, or charges remains unclear from available reporting.
Sabeel Ahmed, director of the Illinois-based outreach project GainPeace, has made three trips to Texas this year alone. He travels the country speaking at mosque-sponsored workshops and open houses, and his recent focus on Texas is no accident. After a midsummer visit to a mosque in Plano, a suburb north of Dallas, Ahmed posted on Instagram.
"Sharia is often misunderstood. Many people think Sharia is only about punishments, but in Islam it is Allah's guidance for living with faith, justice, mercy, and responsibility."
Ahmed told the AP he views the political rhetoric as calculated. "They gain popularity by saying it," he said. But he urged fellow Muslims to respond with education, not anger. "It's the job of the Muslims to educate what is the proper meaning of the word Sharia. We cannot be angry or hateful."
He plans a trip to Houston in the coming weeks for another mosque open house and is working on a book he intends to mail to Christian clergy across the country. "Islam is not to be feared," Ahmed said. "People should meet a Muslim, go to the mosque, reach out to us. Let's emphasize the commonalities we have."
Abdullahi Ahmed An-Na'im, a Sudanese-born Islamic scholar who taught for many years at Emory University's School of Law in Atlanta, has spent much of his career criticizing the relatively small number of governments in Muslim nations that coercively enforce Sharia. He said the American anti-Sharia push displays "a shocking ignorance of what Sharia means."
An-Na'im drew a distinction between state-imposed Sharia, which he has publicly opposed, and the voluntary personal practice that most Muslim Americans follow. He and other Muslim Americans embrace Sharia willingly, he said, as a guide for prayer, charity, and daily conduct. The political campaign, in his view, collapses that distinction entirely.
"It's a total dehumanization of the other, the rejection of their right to be human."
Asma Uddin, a professor at Michigan State University's College of Law, has argued in her writings that many American politicians depict ordinary Muslim religious practices as evidence of a political danger. She described the current wave as "fearmongering by politicians who view the issue as advantageous for them."
"When politicians use this, it's giving them exactly what they're looking for," Uddin told the AP. "They're looking for a scapegoat... and this gets people riled up."
The current push is not new. Anti-Sharia rhetoric in American politics dates back more than 15 years, and state-level bills targeting foreign or religious law have surfaced repeatedly since the late 2000s. What has changed is the institutional weight behind it: a formal congressional caucus with more than 60 members, a sitting attorney general wielding investigative authority, and two of Texas's highest-profile Republicans making the case from a convention stage weeks before a midterm election.
Supporters see the effort as a necessary guardrail. If private tribunals stay private, voluntary, and transparent, the argument goes, there is no conflict. But if any body begins issuing rulings that participants treat as binding, particularly in family law, where power imbalances can be acute, the state has a duty to investigate. Paxton's move against the Dallas tribunal fits that logic, regardless of the tribunal's own claims about its limited role.
Critics counter that singling out Islamic institutions for scrutiny that Jewish and Catholic bodies do not face reveals the real motive. CAIR's designation of the caucus as a hate group signals that the organization intends to fight the effort on civil-rights grounds, not just in the court of public opinion.
None of the caucus's bills have become law. The Islamic Tribunal still operates. Ahmed is still booking mosque open houses. And the midterms are still ahead. The political question is whether voters see anti-Sharia legislation as a defense of constitutional order or as a solution in search of a problem.
Americans have every right to insist that one legal system governs this country, and elected officials have every right to make sure it does. The test is whether that principle is applied evenly, or whether it becomes a campaign prop that generates heat without producing a single enforceable law.
