The Centre for Strategic Studies polled 1,950 Jordanians on the state of the country, and the results were quite interesting. I won’t go in to the gritty details but some of the numbers that stood out for me included one where 60% of those polled believe the country is going in the right direction and 25% believe the opposite is true. I don’t much stock in that particular question, whatever the result may be, given that it is usually too broad and yields too conventional a response. But the more interesting numbers had to do with the judicial system.

According to the survey, 63 per cent of Jordanians believed that the executive authority and its bodies interfered in judicial rulings in 2011, compared with 56 per cent in 2010. Moreover, 61 per cent of the polled sample said individuals with political and economic influence also interfered in court decisions, compared with 55 per cent in 2010.

With court cases and rulings regarding corruption being the center piece of events in the past year, it is quite interesting to see how many Jordanians believe that our judicial system is not independent, and that such cases were politically-motivated or driven. That consensus does not bode well for the state of the rule of law in Jordan.

As for free speech and expression:

Around one-third (32 per cent) of the 1,950 respondents believed they could criticise the government in the open, a 13 per cent increase over last year’s figure. Regarding the best way to change government policy, 33 per cent of the respondents said demonstrations were the best option, 10 per cent favoured dialogue with the government and 7 per cent favoured using the media. Also, 78 per cent of the polled sample believe that public rallies are the most appropriate way to change a government should the need arise, although more than 90 per cent said resorting to violence to achieve this goal was not acceptable.

Even after a year of demonstrations and public criticism, the overwhelming majority of those polled still believe they cannot criticize the government openly (but I suppose it depends on what you mean by “government”). Moreover, the majority also do not favor demonstrations as a means of changing government policy, but an overwhelming majority also believe that demonstrations are the best way to change the government in its entirety!

The poll also seems to point out the utter loss in confidence in the Lower House of Parliament as a legislative body, with a significant number believing that parliament is not combating corruption or really influencing public policy, or, for that matter, truly independent from the executive branch.

A slim majority of 52 per cent said the Lower House was carrying out its role in terms of monitoring the government and holding it accountable, drafting laws and supervising public expenditures. In terms of the House’s ability to combat corruption and influence public policy, however, the percentage saying they were capable of doing so fell to 48 per cent and 46 per cent, respectively. As for the Parliament’s independence from the executive authority, 45 per cent of respondents said it was, but only 41 per cent believe that the House was doing a good job in connecting with the people.

Conclusion? The majority seem to think protests are not the way to go, unless you want to overthrow the government that is (non-violently), and the majority also seem to think that neither the judicial branch nor the legislative branch are truly independent of the executive.

Last Tuesday, upon flipping through a hardcopy issue of Al Ghad newspaper, I fell upon a strange article, which, loosely translated, was titled: “Kissinger: Deaf is he who does not hear the drums of war”. The piece is apparently based on an interview conducted by Alferd Heinz, reporting for an entity dubbed Global Research, and subsequently translated to Arabic by Al Ghad’s Ala’aldeen Abu Zeina. In it, Kissinger predicts an all out third world war taking place in the region, the result of which will see the American military taking over seven countries in the Middle East, whereby Iran will tip the balance and create a situation where – and I quote – “Israel will have to fight with all its might and weapons to kill as many Arabs as it can. Hopefully if all goes well, half the Middle East will be Israeli.”

The article is also filled with quotes from the Kissinger interview that include:

“Control oil and you control nations; control food and you control the people.”

and of course..

“If you are an ordinary person, then you can prepare yourself for war by moving to the countryside and building a farm, you must take guns with you, as the hordes of starving will be roaming”

“Our young have been trained well for the last decade or so on combat console games, it was interesting to see the new Call of Duty Modern Warfare 3 game, which mirrors exactly what is to come in the near future with its predictive programming.”

I thought these images were quite interesting and worth posting up. While the Baptism site is considered one of Jordan’s national treasures, and rightly so, to say nothing of a symbol of co-existence – every time I see an event like this take place I’m reminded of the fact that this body of water may not be around very long. These images of people holding up empty plastic bottle waiting to be filled are quite metaphorical. The river has been sucked dry over the decades (mostly by Israeli farms) to nothing more than a trickle of murky water, which has been polluted several times with sewage water. These images are a reminder of a piece of heritage that is currently in the process of being lost.

Photos by Reuters.

A pilgrim walks past a Jordanian flag after filling a plastic bottle with baptism water following a mass on the Jordan River.

Christian pilgrims wait to fill plastic bottles with baptism water after a mass at a baptism site on the Jordan River.

As an adjective, “pop” is typically defined as something that is sudden in nature; a phenomenon in a sense. It is often short-lived, but its transient shelf-life can last upwards of a decade (e.g. reality tv for instance). I’ve taken to using the term “pop patriotism” to help me personally define and understand the kind of patriotism that has erupted in Jordan over this past year. Patriotism and nationalism have always been around in Jordan, and have seeped in to our mainstream culture in various shapes or forms over the decades. From patriotic songs, to Jordan TV montages of people in fields (while patriotic songs play), to more nationalistic events like Independence Day, and more.

What has unfolded in the past year is quite different. It is the regular dose of patriotism, but on steroids. Primarily in response to the Arab awakening and its feared impact on the Kingdom, the kind of pop-patriotism that we’ve seen this past year is more along the lines of a “with us or against us” offense, than as an expression of love for country. In other words, it has become a weapon used to threaten and intimidate other citizens. The phenomenon is understandable, given that people who feel threatened themselves will always resort to safe ground, become increasingly xenophobic in nature, and feel the need to take on a warlike mentality towards those who disagree with them in opinion.

Pop-patriotism is difficult to put in words, and those who live in Jordan have likely experienced it one way or another. But I think the creative minds behind Kharabeesh have managed to articulate it quite well (with a healthy dose of comedy) in the above video. At the end of it, you kind of have to stop and say to yourself: wait, what happened? How did we get here?

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Footnote: for those unfamiliar with it, Kharabeesh is a local creative company that is home to some of the most creative minds in the country. Much of their work commenting on the Arab awakening, specifically with animations, has gone viral throughout 2011 and helped put Jordan on the map when it comes to regional, original, creative production, in ways that multi-million dollar animation companies have not. They sit comfortably on my personal top-100-things-I-love-about-Jordan list.

image courtesy of tareeq

I’ve always felt that the pillar that tends to hold a country together is it’s justice system. Ours, while better than most, is far from perfect. The independence of the judiciary is constantly being tested by our executive (and legislative) branch, and often, high profile cases are immersed in the blurry gray, rendering it difficult to distinguish between who exactly is giving orders. This distorted relationship has been tested extensively this past year in the context of this ongoing domestic reeling, where combating corruption is at the top of protester demands.

Reading up on the Omar Maani case, both online and offline, I’ve managed to come to a few conclusions that have helped shape my opinion. The first is the fact that this entire conversation about Maani’s jailing has centered on subjective voices. They relate to the man, rather than the issue. Those that deem him innocent are his supporters, and those that deem him guilty are his opponents or even enemies. This subjectivity is to be expected, for the court of public opinion rarely takes in to consideration the broad spectrum of issues, nor their intricate details unless of course the media dictates otherwise. This subjectivity, or focus on the “man” over the issue, is also due to the second reality: a media blackout on the case. Realistically speaking, no one knows anything. We don’t know specifically what this case entails other than the ambiguous charge of “failing to carry out his official duties,” which was leaked to the media. Any details we “hear” from people who are “in the know” are at best, unverifiable, and at worst, rumors.

These two realities alone seem to paint a picture where no one really knows anything, and despite the knowledge gap, most of those vocal about the case are fairly subjective. And in Jordan, subjectivity takes on a whole new meaning, especially when a rally calling for your release is lead chiefly by your tribe. Even online, discussions taking place or groups being formed, are rather subjective.

Like everyone else, I have my own feelings with regards to Maani. I do think he was a relatively good mayor, especially compared to his predecessors. I do believe he did good things for the city, or at least sought to – which, again, is more than one can say about his predecessors. He is also somewhat noted for having “saved” the city from inevitable urban planning doom it was due to face from the influx of foreign investment (aka money laundering in some cases), which would have likely seen menacing towers going up in the middle of dense urban areas. Thanks to Maani and his team, much of Amman now has sidewalks, numbered buildings, clear street names, and bus stops. But I do believe like most Jordanian officials he was a terrible communicator. As many incidents in these past few years have shown, many of the policies undertaking by the Greater Amman Municipality, which impacted local communities in the Capital, tended to shut out those very communities from a public discussion.

However, personal feelings aside, looking at this case I see two things. I see a government that is scrambling to quell the domestic discontent, and the endless call for holding the corrupt accountable, and I see a judicial process influenced by the executive in an effort to meet those demands. In other words, there is a show being put on and we, as citizens, are all audience members. This approach isn’t something novel for the Jordanian state, nor most governments in most countries for that matter. When things get tough and the local discontent rises, people want to see heads roll, and any government interested in remaining in power (which is essentially the goal of any government, anywhere) will always be more than willing to make that happen; to march a sacrificial lamb to the guillotine in an effort to appease the hungry, maddening crowd below. Today, the guillotine is simply the justice system and the courtroom. Even in the US, for instance, we tend to see incumbent mayors, governors or even presidents, sporadically cracking down on crime around election time, in an attempt to gain favor with voters who see crime as a priority. It’s pre-emptive policy making, as opposed to our more domestic variety, which tends to be reactive; a half-measured afterthought.

I do not have a problem with holding people accountable or prosecuting the corrupt. In fact, I would argue that having mechanisms of accountability is at the core of my personal vision for Jordan. But in my mind, accountability comes through instilling a set of practices that ensure citizens, and officials are held accountable for their actions by systematic mechanisms, which are applied to everyone. It is a system based on social justice, where everyone is treated equally before the law, and no one is above it, or falls between its cracks. However, what we are seeing today is a far cry from such a reality. What we are seeing today is an arbitrary sacrifice; a showcasing, as opposed to a genuine pursuit of systems of accountability. And like most shows, it is designed to be crowd-pleasing, grandiose in nature, and more importantly, short-lived. The evidence of this is as clear as day. Accountability and the prosecution of corrupt officials has never been systematic, and if it was we would see a whole lot more of it, and we would likely see it in a more timely fashion rather than several years after the fact. Instead, it’s very, very recent. It’s also very, very rare. Especially when it comes to the more high-profile variety.  Continue reading ‘Why Omar Maani’s Corruption Case Is Of National Concern’

As the year draws to a close, I’ve been forcing myself these past few days to reflect on the events of the last 12 months. It’s extremely difficult to put everything in to words, or even in to context, and I wouldn’t even know where to begin. As I write this, I struggle to be conscious of my mood. See, one of the biggest critiques thrown around these days is that people are “too negative”, as if emotions have suddenly become the foundations of public discourse. It is of course an incredibly silly charge, and stems mostly from a populace that is not accustomed to seeing critique as a tool of progress but rather as a weapon bent on destruction, upheaval and even disloyalty. This has forced upon us an environment where not only does your fellow citizen disagree with what you say, but they do not respect your right to say it, or even you for that matter. Regardless, of the ailing conversational atmosphere, the charge of “being negative” does force one to think about the light at the end of the tunnel. In this bipolar social discourse, where people divide each other in to optimist and pessimist, negative and positive, black and white, with us or against us, loyal or disloyal, this or that – I’ve tried my best to straddle the middle ground; allowing realism to triumph above all else. It is perhaps the one major lesson I can personally derive from the Hashemite leadership over the past half century or so.

In that sense, realistically speaking, 2011 in Jordan has been akin to running wildly through a maze only to find yourself back at the start again with that eerie sense of having spend the past year running in an endless circle. If I were to describe it emotionally, that would be exactly it. That’s the feeling. The realist in me looks at these 12 months as more of the same. From the public missteps to the political theater, it is incredibly difficult to identify something one could consider to be a major step towards progress on the political front. Looking back, I think some of the biggest highlights of the year have been largely driven by the people and non-state actors. Whether it is innovation, entrepreneurship, civil empowerment, or media, much of the advancement on these fronts has been driven from the bottom-up, and fortunately, there have been quite a few. But my focus is naturally on the public sphere rather than the private.

And in the public sphere, there is much to say.

A non-representative parliament that was voted in by a flawed election law – a law that the King himself has said requires reform – this parliament continues to speak in the name of the people. It is this same parliament that has spent much of the past year squabbling with itself and with two different government it has given a vote of confidence to. It is this same parliament that gets to amend reform-minded laws and the constitution – both processes which continue to take place behind closed doors. We’ve had two governments, the former of which spent a great deal of time trying to deal with a 2007 corruption case, the apparent smuggling of a convicted corrupt tycoon, while attempting to pursue other corruption cases. In fact, corruption seems to be the most discernible flavor of the year, and is a word seen on the majority of placards posters have held up since January 2011. Media blackouts on these cases have meant that assumptions are made by the public, many of them wrong, but moreover, it has meant that decisions and process have remained behind closed door, far from public consumption. Even the discourse that emerged from the most memorable “reform efforts” of 2011 were, at best controversial, and at worst, a waste of time. From whether public officials can carry dual citizenship, to fines imposed on media for corruption reporting, GCC membership (or lack thereof), etc.

Increased foreign aid. Increased expenditure on public sector salaries. Increased royal patronage. Increased tribal discontent and grumblings. Increased threats. Increased violence on university campuses. Increased blackmailing of the government. Increased government acquiescence. People shutting down entire towns to demand certain perceived rights.

All in all, we’ve seen an expansion of the status quo really, mostly in an effort to stabilize and maintain it. The biggest moves that paint a picture of something progressive have originated from statements issued by the King. But unless you’re someone who believes that this country’s problems can only be solved by the King’s magic verbal wand, then speeches don’t seem to be a good indicator of reform or progress.

On the street, people are scattered. Protesters continued to be dispersed, with scattered messages. The only purpose protesters have really served is to inadvertently act as pressure groups. I think by now everyone has a clear understanding of the fact that was quite evident nearly a year ago: toppling a government is fairly easy, but asking for reform is a whole other ball game. It requires organizing and a sense of consensus that is fairly limited in a country like Jordan where a public conversation has never really been part of the country’s discourse. Reform has always been (and continues to be) something that is perceived to be strictly in the hands of the state, and more specifically, in the hands of the King. Both loyalists of the status quo and those calling for reform – two groups at odds with each other – tend to see it this way. Unfortunately, they are largely correct in their perception. In a country where royal patronage and dependency thrives and dominates every institution – the environment that emerges is one where reform is seen as the King’s domain, because the King is the only one who can really deliver.

So, where are we? We’ve lost opportunities, time, and effort this past year. But what have we gained? As a people? As a country? Where is the light at the end of that tunnel? Where does the glimmer of hope lie? What has the Arab awakening really given us?
Continue reading ‘Looking Back At 2011 And Jordan Amidst The Arab Awakening’

Lands registered in the HM King Abdullah’s name. It’s been an issue that is often talked about, just not in any documented fashion. Few in media want to touch a subject where the “King” and “public lands” are mentioned in the same breath, and so much of the public discourse has relied on fire breathing critics like Laith Shbeilat and the likes, to fan the flames. This also come on the heels of that infamous tribal letter that was issued last February at the advent of the Arab Awakening, whereby 36 tribal leaders essentially accused the King of giving public land to HM Queen Rania and her family.

So it was a rather predictable move by the Royal Hashemite Court to call a press conference a few days ago to essentially tell everyone that everything is ok, and that nothing fishy is going on. Reading the Petra news press release tells you everything you need to know about how the state is attempting to tackle this story. Another press release seems to have mistakenly found its way in to the Jordan Times editorial section (someone should contact them about that), but is also a good indication of what the state’s approach is. Upon reading the Petra piece, one gets the feeling that they’ve been had. That some sort of magic trick has just occurred and everyone in the audience is expected to nod their heads and go on.

According to the Royal Court Chief, Abu Karaki, this whole move to come forward and present information to the masses about these lands is an attempt to be “transparent” and “open”. Never mind that we are talking about land registrations that took place between 2000 and 2003, roughly eight years ago, but first of all, coming forward simply because people are talking about it isn’t being transparent; it’s being reactive. In fact, marketing this as an attempt at being transparent makes me wonder if the state has its own definition of transparency. The process is what needs to be transparent; presenting the people with “facts” eight years later because you can’t shake the story is closer to a confession than anything else.

What this demonstrates, if anything, is that nothing has changed in this domain.

The state still waits until stories build up steam, remains quiet, allows that steam to manifest in anger, frustration, accusations and even violence sometimes – and then coming out saying: “Here’s the real story. See! We’re being transparent!”. This formula is one we’ve seen happen over and over and over again. In 2008, we saw accusations building up regarding the sale of public lands for “private investments”, which in Jordan is a euphemism for “corruption”. The issue was left unaddressed until it spiraled out of hand and the King spoke up in an interview with Petra news to clear things up, specifically about rumors of the sale of Medical City lands. I would even argue that the 2008 case laid the groundwork for the present day, even those regarding Queen Rania’s brother, who has been accused of public land deals for over a year now. All of the stories refuse to go away, and the state’s response has not changed. I’m not sure why that is. There’s a possibility that they think this approach is a winning strategy.

As for the specific lands and why they were registered in the King’s name in the first place, well, that’s where it gets interesting. According to the Royal Court, a total of 4,827 dunums were all registered in His Majesty’s name during the 2000-2003 period only, with the vast majority of those lands being located outside Amman.

Why?

The only reason to register those lands in His Majesty’s name was to expedite and facilitate implementation of development and service programmes and projects in the regions where those lands are located, and was not intended in any manner for material or personal benefit, but rather for national developmental projects, Adaileh stressed. Concerned officials at the Royal Hashemite Court during that period proposed to register those Treasury lands under His Majesty’s name in order to speed up implementation of projects to improve the level of public services and directly benefit citizens in those areas

The reason given, nearly eight years later after the fact, will no doubt polarize opinions. There will be those who reject it outright and those that accept it completely, with the truth lying some where in the middle. The problem is, when you’re not being transparent from the start, it’s hard to convince people you were doing something for the public good nearly a decade later.

But regardless of what people choose to believe, in my opinion, the holy grail of this answer lies really in the fact that it was given as a valid answer at all. What this answer says to me is basically: there is usually a process whereby public lands are developed for the public benefit or used for investments, but because that process is either broken, slow, bureaucratic or what have you, the country’s treasury thought that things could get done quicker if they just registered the land in the King’s name. That’s essentially what this offered reason boils down to. The lands that belong to the public were registered in the King’s name in order to get things done; in order to bypass process. In order to cut through red tape and procedures. This is the reason they’re choosing to go with. That to me is far more important and interesting than whether one believes their offered reason or not. The fact that they offered it is a bold and public declaration of how the state thinks about transparency.

And thus, eight years later, in the name of “transparency and openness”, the public is informed that these lands were registered in the King’s name, in order to bypass the conventional system, in a manner that is far from transparent or open. The irony is self-evident.

I am positive that this will do little to quell or curb criticism, or those who have used this issue as a reason to hold a witch-hunt in search of corruption. But for me, the issue that is more important and more worthy of debate is that of transparency. Indeed, if there’s anything this entire ordeal has demonstrated it is the disconnect between the state’s definition of transparency, and the actual meaning; the actual manifestation. Transparency must be a mechanism that is immersed in the process, and that process must be law; it must be adhered to, not bypassed in the name of “getting things done”. If there’s something wrong with that process, the solution isn’t to go around it, and it isn’t to dodge transparency: the solution is to fix it. Transparency is not the act of offering people information nearly a decade after an event, motivated solely by the fact that it has become a lingering controversial issue. Transparency is a pillar that comes naturally with the process the state chooses to pursue, or doesn’t.

I am positive that there are those in the state who understand this completely. But, based on this case and others, we have yet to see any evidence of it.

One can only hope that some place, some where, a shift will happen.

September 6th, 1977: Jordan’s King Hussein holds a press conference in Paris, France.

Every year, HM King Hussein is quietly remembered on the day that he was born. If he had lived, he would have been 76 today. And while in past years throughout this last decade or so, such a day would have either gone unnoticed by me (I have trouble remembering my own birthday some times) this year is a bit different. This year it is almost impossible for me not to stop and reflect, even for a brief moment on King Hussein and ask myself the only question I cannot help but think about: what would Hussein have done?

In context of this Arab Awakening it is a pertinent question for most Jordanians. Far from the worshiping complexes that some in the Arab world have of their leaders, King Hussein, even in an objective light, was simply a man who had unmatched skills. In other words, whether it’s the lingering sycophants or the most abrasive critics, whether it was those closest to whom or those who considered him an enemy – most cannot reject the fact that he was a skilled leader. He often took strategic decisions considered unpopular by most, but did so with such passion, force and eloquence that it was difficult not to feel even a little inspired. When I think of a legacy of leadership, an entire body of work, I often think of King Hussein. I think of him on television during the bread riots in Karak during the mid 1990′s – sitting behind a desk, shirt sleeves rolled up, cigarette in hand, chastising rioters like a father to his misbehaving sons. It was a scene that has been marked on my memory.

The man had skills. The kind you get when you are able to survive through the most turbulent decades in the region’s history. If politics is a game, and the history of this region affirms that, then he was closest to a chess master as I’ve ever seen. And with that, one cannot but wonder if things would have been different today. Not only in Jordan, but maybe even the region. There have been numerous times this past year when I would reflect on an event here at home and wonder how King Hussein would have acted, in the same way that I find myself wondering in everyday personal situations how my father would act, react, behave, and respond. What decisions would he have taken?

Every leader faces the world in his own time, and in his own way. But on today of all days, I have to wonder: what would King Hussein do?