A federal judge barred several Arkansas school districts from posting the Ten Commandments, declaring Act 573 unconstitutional and saying it violated Plaintiffs’ free exercise rights; Arkansas officials say they will appeal and this clash could join a circuit split that ends up before the Supreme Court.
A U.S. District Judge, Timothy Brooks, entered a permanent order preventing the display of the Ten Commandments in the classrooms of multiple Arkansas districts, finding the law violated the Establishment Clause and the free exercise rights of the plaintiffs. The decision targets every district named in the lawsuit, rather than issuing a statewide ban. Act 573, passed by the Arkansas legislature, is now effectively gutted for those districts named in the case.
Arkansas Attorney General Tim Griffin’s office signaled it will not accept the ruling without a fight; communications director Jeff LeMaster said the office is “reviewing the opinion and will appeal.” Good. They should. The promise of an appeal turns this into more than a local skirmish.
Judge Brooks wrote in stark terms about the law’s purpose before reaching his legal conclusions. He framed Act 573 as having a single objective and used those words to strike it down.
“Act 573’s purpose is only to display a sacred, religious text in a prominent place in every public-school classroom. And the only reason to display a sacred, religious text in every classroom is to proselytize to children. The State has said the quiet part out loud.”
Saying the “only reason” for displaying the Ten Commandments is proselytizing is a sweeping claim that flattens centuries of legal and cultural history. It asks a court to ignore the role the Ten Commandments have played as a touchstone for moral and civic law. It also requires a judge to proclaim a single legislative motive and then declare that entire motive illegitimate.
This ruling blurs the line courts have long tried to draw between acknowledging religion’s historical influence and endorsing a faith. Under Brooks’s logic, almost any public reference to a religious text becomes automatically disallowed as proselytizing. The Ten Commandments are even carved into the marble of the Supreme Court building, yet the context supposedly matters only in Washington, not in Arkansas.
The ACLU framed the decision as a win for inclusive classrooms and celebrated the ruling publicly. Their senior counsel cast the outcome as protection for students from coercive religious pressure.
“Today’s decision ensures that our clients’ classrooms will remain spaces where all students, regardless of their faith, feel welcomed and can learn without worrying that they do not live up to the state’s preferred religious beliefs.”
That picture of a poster creating intolerable coercion strikes as exaggerated. Students deal with peer pressure, social media, and ideological content embedded across curricula, yet a historic set of moral precepts on a wall is portrayed as uniquely crushing. The claim that a display of “Thou shalt not steal” renders classrooms inhospitable does not square with everyday education realities.
The ACLU’s model of religious freedom often reads like freedom from religion, not freedom of religion. It protects the right to avoid religious expression in public life while showing less concern for the rights of religious citizens to participate publicly without being treated like constitutional problems. That imbalance is a real constitutional question worth debating.
The legal fallout promises to be national, not local. The 5th Circuit upheld a nearly identical Louisiana law that required posting the Ten Commandments in classrooms, while Arkansas sits in the 8th Circuit where this ruling came down. Two circuits issuing opposing outcomes creates the exact sort of split that invites Supreme Court review.
The current Court has already signaled openness to revisiting settled Establishment Clause doctrine, and its decision in Kennedy v. Bremerton School District showed a willingness to reject rigid separationism. If this dispute reaches the Supreme Court, justices will have to decide how far that recalibration of religious liberty extends in public schools.
There is a larger argument at stake beyond courtroom procedure. One view treats public schools as spaces that must be cleared of visible traces of the moral traditions that informed our laws. Another view treats those traditions as part of the shared civic inheritance that can be acknowledged without endorsing a faith. Arkansas’s elected legislature chose the latter by passing Act 573; a single federal judge overruled that choice in a lawsuit that now threatens to reshape local control.
Griffin’s promised appeal and the existing circuit split give the state a real chance to push this into a national decision. For now, the classrooms in the named districts will remain without that particular display, and the case moves up the ladder where a broader resolution will decide whether historical religious texts can have a place in public civic education.
