I Saw What Religious Law Looks Like in Practice. Texas Must Never Fund It.

By Dewey Collier, Retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel, Candidate for Texas House District 5

I spent 26 years in the United States Army.

I deployed to the Middle East. I did not watch conflict on television. I stood in it.

And during one deployment, I witnessed something I will never forget:

Christians being publicly stoned.

Not because they committed violence.

Not because they harmed anyone.

But because under the governing religious law in that region, they were guilty of existing outside the dominant faith.

That moment clarified something for me forever:

There is a difference between private belief and enforced religious authority.

America was built to protect the first — and to reject the second.

Faith Is Protected. Religious Governance Is Not.

Let me be absolutely clear.

The United States Constitution protects the free exercise of religion.

Every private person in Texas — Muslim, Christian, Jewish, atheist, or anyone else — has the full right to worship, fast, pray, or abstain according to conscience.

Freedom of religion necessarily includes freedom from religion.

No person may be compelled by the State to practice a faith.

No person may be punished by government for refusing belief.

That principle is not negotiable.

But the Constitution protects private worship.

It does not authorize the State to fund, endorse, institutionalize, or enforce religious legal systems.

That distinction matters.

Where the Constitutional Conflict Actually Lies

There is another reality that must be addressed honestly.

Some religious systems — not merely as spiritual traditions, but as comprehensive legal frameworks — include doctrines governing civil conduct, penalties, and public order. Some include prescriptions concerning apostasy, dissent, or non-adherence.

Under American constitutional order, coercive authority over belief is forbidden.

The Constitution does not regulate theology. It regulates government power.

Private doctrine may teach many things.

Public law may enforce none of them if they violate constitutional liberty.

So when a belief system presents itself as a religion — which entitles it to protection of private worship — but also contains legal doctrines that historically operate as governance, the issue becomes legally complex.

That complexity is real.

It is not an excuse. It is a hurdle.

And hurdles require structure, not slogans.

This Is Not About Ramadan.

It Is About Government Entanglement.

The recent calls from CAIR-Texas urging accommodation and partnership within government detention facilities must be examined through that structural lens.

This is not opposition to fasting.

This is not an attack on private faith.

It is a constitutional inquiry.

Where does accommodation end and entanglement begin?

Where does private worship end and state partnership with religious governance begin?

When advocacy organizations that articulate religious legal frameworks seek formal partnership, taxpayer funding, or institutional accommodation beyond individual rights, Texans have a duty to ask hard constitutional questions.

That is not prejudice.

It is jurisprudence.

Many Are Talking.

Few to none Have Written Law.

Here is where leadership is tested.

Across Texas, you will hear elected officials and candidates speak about these tensions.

They raise concerns. They signal awareness. They issue statements.

But talking about constitutional conflict is not the same as resolving it.

Have they offered legislation that can withstand constitutional scrutiny?

Have they drafted text that clearly protects private religious exercise while prohibiting state recognition of parallel legal systems?

Have they performed the hard work of writing structure that will survive judicial review?

I have.

After nine years in the Legislature, my opponent continues to produce press releases and positioning.

I have legislation ready.

That is the difference between commentary and command.

This Is Why We Wrote the Sword & Shield Acts

The Sword & Shield Acts were written precisely because this issue demands constitutional precision.

They do not target a faith.

They do not restrict prayer, fasting, worship, or private belief.

They do something more disciplined:

• They affirm full protection of private religious exercise.

• They prohibit the State from recognizing or enforcing parallel legal systems.

• They prevent taxpayer funding from entangling government with coercive legal authority.

• They reinforce that no foreign, religious, or ideological code may displace or subvert constitutional secured guarantees.

This is not symbolic legislation.

It is structural legislation.

It anticipates challenge. It is textually grounded. It is built to hold under scrutiny.

I Did Not Fight Religious Oppression Abroad to Subsidize It at Home

When I saw Christians stoned under religious law overseas, I understood what happens when government authority and religious governance merge.

It does not produce liberty.

It produces hierarchy.

It produces coercion.

The American constitutional system exists to prevent that merger.

As someone who carried fellow soldiers to safety after a helicopter crash, who has seen what ideological governance looks like in practice, and who has sworn the oath to defend the Constitution repeatedly, I will not treat this as theoretical.

It is not.

The American experiment depends on one structural truth:

No parallel legal authority may compete with the Constitution.

Not foreign law. Not religious law. Not ideological law.

That principle protects everyone — including Muslims — because once government begins privileging or enforcing religious governance, liberty becomes conditional.

Texas Must Be Clear-Eyed

The constitutional terrain here is complex.

That is not a reason to retreat.

It is a reason to lead.

We can respect private beliefs without funding governance by faith.

We can protect private religious exercise without institutionalizing religious legal authority.

We can defend liberty without surrendering structure.

That is the line.

And I will hold it.

— Dewey Collier.