Intersecting Roots: A Lost Sense of Authority
Jordanian Protests Against Water-Energy Deal
Gathering in protest, hundreds of people marched in downtown Amman, Jordan, on November 26, 2021. They carried signs that read “Normalization is treason” and chanted, “No to the agreement of shame” to protest against the country’s water-energy deal with Israel. As a study abroad student in Amman, I was unable to attend the protests. However, observing the protests from afar, I saw the unity and heavy desire of the Jordanian people to seek political reform and dissolve the current regime.
Under this Water-Energy Deal with Israel, Jordan would receive 200 million cubic meters of desalinated water from Israel. In return, Jordan is to give 600 megawatts of electricity generated from a UAE-funded solar energy plant located on Jordanian land.
The picture above shows the exact width of the area that separates Israel and Jordan. Standing on the Jordanian side, you can see the Israeli border right on the other side. On this day, there was an Ethiopian party taking place on the Israeli side along with tourists taking pictures of the river and people walking down to the river to dip in the “holy” water. By contrast, the Jordanian side was clustered with military officials holding rifles and signs illustrating how fatal it would be to “cross-over” beyond the allowed point in the water. The Israeli side had military officials, but they were stationed up high in guard towers, and cameras surrounded their perimeters.
The location of guards is particularly interesting, since the Jordanian guards are visibly on foot, showing the austerity of the situation and the potentially fatal threat that any violators might face. Israeli securitization is more hidden, illustrating to their visitors a more utopic and less threatening view of the situation. All in all, however, the short distance and “open-layout” of the two borders facing one another conveys the fragile relationship between Israel and Jordan.
While the water-energy deal may seem practical, to locals it only provides a facade of security that leaves Jordan more dependent on Israel without truly resolving the country’s intense water crisis. Jordan is a water-scarce country. During my semester abroad in Amman, many of my peers on the program utilized gym memberships for their shower benefits. I witnessed countless families run out of water (which sits in tanks on top of buildings), sometimes for weeks at a time. Locals are dependent on this water for showering, cleaning, drinking, cooking, and countless other daily commitments that come to a halt when the water rations run out. And, those fortunate enough to purchase an additional water tank could spend upwards of US$500 for just a two-week supply of water. This is a highly challenging cost for many families and individuals in the country, especially in an already vulnerable economy known for its high unemployment rates.
In their protests against the deal, Jordanian locals rejected the agreement because, they argued, it moves towards normalizing ties with Israel while wholly ignoring the fact that Israeli settlers continue to occupy Palestinian territories. Additionally, Jordanians are angry that the country’s economic dependence on the United States would be further compounded by this new dependence on Israel for water. Given that the Jordanian regime’s survival is closely intertwined with the West, any disagreement with either the United States or Israel could be detrimental to the country’s stability. The water-energy deal would exacerbate this relationship, and locals were quick to reject it.
While aggravated by this deal with Israel, the loss of autonomy felt by Jordanian citizens has been an ongoing issue in the kingdom. Although Jordan did not have a major Arab Spring movement like in many of its neighbors, Jordanian citizens did stage some demonstrations against the regime in 2011-2012 and again during the summer of 2018, following the Arab Spring. But there was little reform addressing the people’s needs, sparking further protests and a month-long strike in 2019 by teachers calling for higher wages. In 2020, leaders of the Teacher’s Syndicate were detained, permanently dissolving the organization, and local media coverage of the story was severely restricted.
The Story of Handala
The Palestinian cartoonist, Naji Al-Ali, illustrated the character of a young refugee boy by the name of Handala in 1969. Handala represents a Palestinian refugee, with his hands in shackles and his back to the world. To Al-Ali, Handala symbolizes a childhood stolen after the Palestinian mass exodus of 1948, where Al-Ali himself and hundreds of thousands of others were forced out of their homeland in what Palestinians call the Nakba (catastrophe).
Since then, Al-Ali’s art, and Handala in particular, have remained relevant within political efforts in the region to criticize governments and geopolitical strife - particularly that stemming from normalized relations with the U.S. and other western states. And, while I did not see the character of Handala in Amman as often as I saw Saddam Hussein memorabilia, I did see the societal interactions between the different generations living in Amman, of all citizenships. Those who recognize the symbolism of Handala feel as if their childhoods and lives have been stolen, that the “good-old times” have passed, and that these new times have robbed them of their sense of authority.
Similarly, the encounter with the fruit market owner downtown that I described in my last article exhibits these dynamics and displays the prominence of anti-American sentiments. The man’s opinion reflects the ways that foreign involvement in local policies have polarized public opinion. In this charade of politics, the reality is that American policy endorsements can do more harm than good in local affairs. A study conducted by the Pew Global Attitudes Project determined that foreign influence in Jordan is not entirely welcome in the region — even though Jordanian citizens have relished the stability that US aid has provided for years.
Despite this anti-Western front, many Arabs living in Jordan want to move, study, and live abroad. I have seen this urgency and desire for the “better-abroad life” in many families in Amman - some of whom are host families for international students in my program. As an Iraqi-American student who is already familiar with many Arab cultures and practices, and who is fluent in conversational and written Arabic, I was able to read into the reality of some social situations without dismissing personal agency or applying incongruous beliefs. Through cultural competence and relativism, I was able to sharpen my communication skills through casual conversations with some families. I reached the conclusion that some families host American students partly to enhance their children’s visa applications to migrate and study abroad later on.
In this context, we have to think deeply about the meaning of American, and what the United States means in the region. Between their economic allyship with Jordan, the American dream for the youth of the region, and the symbolism of a robbed local authority, as we see with Handala, the United States is perceived with mixed feelings. In addition, the US invasion of Iraq in 2003 and the war, which proved no connection to Al-Qaeda or WMDs, harmed US credibility worldwide and in the region. In my next article, I will further describe the case of Palestine in Jordan and contextualize these “anti-American sentiments” in the Arab world.