Frank Viviano Writes
 
Jordan anxious to avoid fallout from terrorism war
Volatile neighbors, politics make country vulnerable

Al-Baka'a, Jordan -- Silence descends on the marketplace at Al-Baka'a the moment a foreigner begins asking questions, and the words "American reporter" ripple through the crowd in a collective whisper.
Al-Baka'a, set in an arid valley 14 miles from the Jordanian capital, Amman,
is one of the world's largest refugee camps, the squalid home to 120,000 people who fled the West Bank of the Jordan River after the Arab-Israeli war of 1967. Since Sept. 11, its residents have been ordered not to speak with journalists -- especially those from the United States.
"Do you have a permit from the Ministry of Information to visit this place, sir?" a policeman asks. "If not, you must leave immediately."
The government, an official later explains off the record, is traumatized by the possibility that Palestinians in Jordan might be seen celebrating the terrorist assault, as some did in the West Bank.
"The whole nation is under stress, thanks to the events of Sept. 11," wrote Dureid Mahasneh, a prominent Jordanian intellectual and newspaper columnist. "People are increasingly worried and pessimistic."
The anxiety is born of circumstances that make Jordan deeply vulnerable to the aftereffects of the terrorist attacks on New York and the Pentagon -- and to the fear of what may come next.
No Arab leader moved faster to condemn the attacks than King Abdullah, Jordan's young ruler, who rushed to Washington last week, offering President Bush his country's "full, unequivocal support to you and to the people of America."
But the political and military fallout from a U.S.-led war on terrorism -- should it spread to Iraq, for example -- could destroy the fragile Jordanian economy, upset the country's delicate internal political balancing act and fatally weaken the king's authority.
More than any other Arab state, Jordan has opened its doors to Israel, welcoming tens of thousands of Israeli businesspeople and tourists per year. But with a population that is more than 60 percent Palestinian, it has also openly supported the current uprising on the West Bank and in the Gaza Strip, an uprising that Israel calls "terrorism."
In addition to Israel and Iraq, Jordan is surrounded by other volatile neighbors who could be caught up in America's declared "war on terrorism." It shares borders with Syria -- the headquarters of several organizations the U.S.
State Department has labeled as terrorist -- and Saudi Arabia, Osama bin Laden's birthplace and his principal financial base.
The cloud of fear in Jordan has produced some improbable conspiracy theories. The real culprits, according to some Jordanians, were Israeli agents of Arab origin, determined to force the United States into a war with Islam. Others say that Washington itself orchestrated the hijackings to set the scene for a takeover of the Persian Gulf oil fields.
"Hardly anyone really believes these things, but almost everyone wants, desperately, to believe that someone else must be responsible," said Michel Nayim, a taxi driver.
That some Arabs might indeed have been capable of such acts was clearly recognized by the hordes of missing vacationers who usually turn up by the planeload in the balmy Jordanian autumn.
The Amman Intercontinental, the capital's most luxurious hotel, has reduced its room rate from $275 per night to $125 in an attempt to attract clients. The Oriental, a favorite restaurant of foreign residents in the chic Jebel Amman district, had exactly six diners interspersed in its several hundred seats Sunday night.
However, Jordanians have shown far more sympathy than hostility toward Westerners since the attacks. A much-publicized fatwa, or decree, from a small group of extremist clerics declaring holy war on Americans in the event Afghanistan is invaded produced furious public criticism and embarrassment.
But the fatwa underscored the most troubling of Jordan's nightmares: that like the West Bank and Gaza, Saudi Arabia and nearby Lebanon, it too might be caught up in the extremist religious fervor that cast a pall of death on the United States and may bring catastrophe to Afghanistan.
Among the things the police were anxious for Americans not to see in Al- Baka'a were large, hand-scrawled banners in Arabic exhorting residents to immerse themselves in the Koran. Virtually all of the women in the marketplace are now veiled.
The growing religious fervor has seldom crossed the line into violent extremism. A near exception was a plot to bomb Jordanian tourist sites on New Year's Eve, allegedly coordinated by Osama bin Laden but detected and crushed in advance by the Jordanian secret service.
The government has imposed draconian "emergency measures" on legal opposition groups, demanding several days' notice for all protests and assigning them to sites that make large gatherings impossible.
"Instead of seeing thousands go out to the streets in solidarity with the (Palestinian uprising), we find ourselves confined to this small area," said Abdul Latif Arabiyat, secretary general of the Islamic Action Front, an opposition political party.
"I am being oppressed, not from America, but from my own government officials," said Bahjat Abu Gharbiyeh, another militant leader. "Is it right at such a time when the U.S. declares war against Arabs and Muslims that we be cornered here? For the sake of Allah, we won't give up the struggle and martyrdom."

back to index page
 
 
back to