February 7, 1999
Building Modernity on Desert Mirages
By JOHN KIFNER
H USSEIN IBN TALAL, a pivotal and sometimes heroic figure in the
Middle East, will be laid to rest with all the pomp and pageantry of
royalty: the Bedouin desert warriors in their red-checked keffiyahs
and smartly crossed leather ammunition belts; the Circassian palace
guards -- Muslims uprooted from the Caucasus -- in high-booted,
fur-hatted uniforms like cossacks; the crown, the banners, symbols
of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan, a dynasty stretching back
through the mists of time to . . . May 25, 1946.
In the Middle East, the Egyptian diplomat Taseen Bashir likes to
say, only Egypt and Iran are real countries, places with a cohesive
history of nationhood; the rest are "tribes with flags." And of all
the artificial countries created by the victorious European powers
who drew arbitrary lines on maps after World War I, none was more
artificial than the tiny, poor, lawless leftover patch of desert
that would become Jordan.
Even the flag was artificial. The green, red, white and black banner that fluttered over Arab
raiders led by the Hashemite family against the Ottoman empire --
the basis for today's flags of Jordan and the Palestine Liberation
Organization -- was designed by a British Foreign Service officer
named Sir Mark Sykes and produced by his army's supply shop in
Cairo.
But he is not remembered as the Betsy Ross of Arabia. He is better
known as half of a secret double-cross -- the Sykes-Picot agreement
of 1916 -- in which the British effectively sold out their Arab
allies by recognizing French interests in the Middle East.
And yet, from this unpromising land, King Hussein and has
grandfather, King Abdullah, forged, largely by sheer force of
personality, the most modern nation in the Arab world. They did it
through dangerous decades of war with Israel and the frequent
hostility of their fellow Arabs.
Even while clinging tenaciously to the old symbols -- Hussein's
personal aircraft is named the Qureish for the tribe of the Prophet
Mohammed, from whom he claims descent -- these unlikely survivors
developed a legitimacy far more in tune with the 20th century, one
that rests on a social contract with the royal family's people.
"It is a social contract that harks back to the monarchy of older
times," said Fouad Ajami, a leading scholar of the region.
"The record of the Hashemites stands out as one of great moderation
and tolerance; they were temperate, merciful rulers.
"It was always a turbulent realm, and when necessary there was an
iron fist in the velvet glove.But there was a legacy of forgiving; even assassins were forgiven
and rehabilitated.
They made a going concern of this modest realm and helped their
people escape the furies of the region around them."
The back story of the Hashemite monarchy begins on the eve of World
War I, in which the decaying Ottoman Empire would be allied with
Germany and Austria-Hungary. At the center of Ottoman rule was the
Caliph, the supreme religious leader of Islam. But in the Arab lands
there were secret stirrings of nationalism, chafing against Turkish
rule.
The British military commander, Lord Kitchener, and his fledgling
Middle East experts wanted to fan the flames of Arab resistance;
they hit on a scheme to create a new Caliph, beholden to them, in
hopes that Britain could control the region after the war. Their
candidate was King Hussein's great-grandfather, Emir Hussein of the
Hejaz, the Sharif of Mecca, or guardian of Islam's holiest places at
the far southern edge of the Arabian Peninsula.
He duly declared the Great Arab Revolt in 1916 -- an affair of
machinations, blunders and betrayals all around that is told in
admirable detail in "A Peace to End All Peace" by David Fromkin
(Avon Books, 1989). For the less rigorous, this is the tale told in
the movie "Lawrence of Arabia."
The Arab revolt was actually not all that great, historians now say.
It enlisted only a few thousand tribesmen and its exploits were
inflated by two master storytellers, the American correspondent
Lowell Thomas and Capt. T. E. Lawrence himself.
Nevertheless, the Arab army under Hussein's youngest son, Feisal
(Omar Sharif in the movie), led the victorious allies into Damascus,
the regional capital, on Oct. 1, 1918.
The Arab nationalists planned for Feisal to become King in Damascus
and his older brother, Abdullah, to be King in Baghdad.
But the European powers, carving up the Ottoman remains, had other
ideas.
Feisal reigned in Damascus only momentarily, until the French took
control there under the Sykes-Picot understanding.
Then, with British help, he moved his franchise to Baghdad, where
his family ruled until they were killed in a 1958 military coup.
Back home in the Hejaz, the Hashemite dream of ruling as Caliphs
failed too. Sharif Hussein proclaimed himself Caliph on March 5,
1924, two days after the secularizing Young Turks now ruling
Istanbul abolished the office. But Abdul Aziz Ibn Saud, who bore
Hussein's family many grudges, led the Wahhabis -- the Muslim
fundamentalists of their day -- out of the desert and kicked Hussein
out in 1925, seizing the guardianship of the holy places and
creating Saudi Arabia.
Many years later, when King Hussein would not line up against Iraq
in the Gulf War against the Saudis, he would refer to himself as the
Sharif, in echo of his great-grandfather's claim.
Meanwhile, another wartime promise -- the Balfour Declaration of
1917, anticipating a Jewish homeland in the British mandate in
Palestine -- would shape events in the region for decades.
I N early 1921, Abdullah turned up in the unpromising sands in the
eastern part of the mandate with an armed entourage, announcing he
was on his way to conquer Syria. Abdullah had been the original
architect of the alliance with the British, but Captain Lawrence had
shunted him aside as charming and wily -- "a tool too complex for
such a simple purpose" -- in favor of Feisal.
It was the beginning of the process by which Abdullah and his
grandson, King Hussein, would remain in the desert and create the
Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan.
Winston Churchill, then Colonial Secretary, claimed he created
Jordan "in an afternoon," by splitting off the territory in the
Palestine mandate east of the Jordan River into Transjordan in 1923
(although it continued to be administered as a mandate territory
until independence in 1946).
This split avoided confrontations with France over who would rule
Damascus. And by naming Abdullah Emir, or Prince, and later King,
Churchill said, the British could "repair the damage done to the
Arabs" and the Hashemites.
More important, Transjordan could serve as a safety valve for Arabs
who might leave the Palestine mandate as Jews streamed in. The
British subsidized Transjordan with millions of dollars, and
organized, trained and officered its army, the Arab Legion.
This force became the strongest in the Arab world. In 1948, it alone
held against the nascent Israelis, crossing the Jordan River to take
the West Bank and the holy sites in East Jerusalem.
For both Abdullah and Hussein, ruling Jordan was always a complex
and potentially deadly balancing act. They had to satisfy their
Western patrons (first Britain, then the United States) while
keeping at bay their enemies (mostly Arab) and, above all, coping
with the vexing problem of the Palestinians.
Urbane by upbringing and nature, they nevertheless appeared at home
among the desert tribes who formed the backbone of their army and
their political base.
As King, Hussein would find the balancing act even more difficult.
He was only 15 in 1951 when he saw his grandfather gunned down next
to him on the steps of al-Aqsa mosque in Jerusalem by a Palestinian
nationalist.
He struggled, more than his grandfather had, to balance his own
modern and Western impulses with Arab traditions and, often, anger.
Still, in a land without natural resources, he was able to build an
educational system that turned the population into a resource, able
to work abroad in the oil states.
Under his rule, Jordan did not evolve into a full democracy but it
built a freewheeling Parliament and a relatively open press, in
sharp distinction to its Arab neighbors. King Hussein commanded an
effective intelligence service, or Mukhabarat, but ruled by a kind
of mass popularity rather than the fear of the secret police that
characterizes Syria and Iraq and is mitigated in Egypt only by
inefficiency and corruption. Palestinians numbered two-thirds of the
population of his country, swollen by refugees from the wars in
Israel and the Gulf.
Sometimes the decisions were costly: joining in the disastrous Six
Day War against Israel in 1967 and choosing not to join the fight
against Iraq in the 1991 gulf war.
Mr. Ajami believes that "history will judge these survival calls,"
for the King could not withstand the mood of his own subjects.
But in 1967 he lost the valuable West Bank and holy sites, and in
1991, the desperately needed subsidies and support from the oil-rich
Gulf countries, compounding his economic difficulties.
A T other times, there was raw, physical courage, as when he led his
army to expel the Palestinian commandos in the Black September of
1970, earning him the nickname of "P.L.K.," which stood for Plucky
Little King.
There were secret meetings over the years with Israel's leaders.
There were assassination attempts; once Syrian jets tried to shoot
down his private plane.
And, at the end, he struggled most of all to find some peace for the
Middle East.
Copyright 1999 The New York Times Company