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Women, the State, and Political Liberalization: Middle Eastern and North African Experiences
Laurie A. Brand
1998
4. God, Homeland, King
The society and politics of Jordan, a small country located strategically in the Eastern Mediterranean between Israel and the Arab world, have been profoundly marked by a series of regional conflicts and crises. The ever–present threat of war is a major reason why, unlike Morocco, where political history since independence has been marked by cycles of opening and repression, pre–1989 Jordan witnessed only two brief political openings. Much of the rest of the explanation for the kingdom’s economic and political development may be traced to the policies of its monarch since 1953, Husayn, who has demonstrated a considerable degree of skill both in cultivating external patrons and in riding the waves of regional (and occasionally domestic) turmoil. In part because of the continuing security threats it faced, the Jordanian state that was gradually consolidated under Husayn developed a strong security apparatus and as a corollary was suspicious of attempts at popular organizing. Of the activity that was permitted, most was based on family, clan, or tribal ties, relations which have, both through deliberate action and unintended outcome, developed as basic to power relations in the kingdom. The discussion below and in the next two chapters will explore how such a context shaped the status and place of Jordanian women during periods of repression and liberalization.
The Jordanian Political System
Transjordan (later renamed Jordan) was carved out of the territory assigned to Britain as part of the Palestine mandate imposed following World War I. Established to serve imperial interests, the amirate’s relatively small administrative bureaucracy was subsidized by the British, who also handled all matters related to defense, finance, and foreign affairs. In no small part due to the Europeans’ legacy in the area, regional conflicts or upheavals have regularly buffeted and profoundly affected the kingdom: Arab–Israeli wars in 1948, 1956, 1967, 1973, 1982; civil strife in Jordan in 1970–71; the Palestinian intifada beginning in 1987; the Iran–Iraq war and the Gulf war of 1991; and major influxes of Palestinian refugees in 1948 and 1967, and of those displaced by the invasion of Kuwait in 1990–91.
Jordan is a monarchy in which the king both reigns and rules. The kingdom has long had a functioning parliament, comprising both an upper (appointed) and a lower (elected) house, but with only brief exceptions prior to 1989, the parliament had little more than a rubber stamp function. Political parties were outlawed in 1957, martial law was imposed and political oppositional activity of any sort was forced underground. In the realm of so&-;called civil society, only professional organizations, such as doctors’, engineers’, lawyers’ and similar unions succeeded, despite state coercion, in maintaining an independent and at times vibrant existence during the martial law regime. 1
The role of family, clan, and tribal (‘asha’iri) ties are basic to understanding the kingdom and may be observed on many levels, from everyday interactions in bureaucratic and judicial procedures, to government policy and appointments. Prime ministers are often chosen because of the family or region from which they hail. The cabinet is regularly shuffled as a means of cultivating patronage ties as well as preventing alternative centers of power from developing. Moreover, the composition of any given cabinet is determined, not so much by areas of competence, but rather by a set of political considerations, generally domestic in nature. For example, there must be representation from all parts of the country; there must be at least one Circassian and one Christian; 2 and there are generally several ministers of Palestinian origin.
The balance between Palestinians and Transjordanians (East Bankers), the two major communal groups in the country, has been particularly sensitive over the years and has changed over time. Prior to 1970, there was an attempt to balance representation of Transjordanians and Jordanians of Palestinian origin. While Transjordanians had always been the major recruiting ground for the military, many Palestinians had served in important civil service and ministerial positions. Following the civil war of 1970–71, this began to change, as Transjordanians began to be preferentially recruited into all parts of the military and civilian bureaucracies. Thus, largely excluded from the state, Palestinians came increasingly to form the backbone of the private sector. A division of labor of sorts emerged—Palestinian private sector/ Transjordanian public sector—which has shaped or influenced all Jordan’s citizens’ understandings of their role and possibilities in the kingdom.
The Jordanian Economy
Although possessing important mineral reserves as well as agricultural land in the north and in the Jordan Valley, Jordan has long relied upon external subsidies to remain solvent. Over the years, for reasons related to the security role the kingdom has filled, Jordan was able to collect substantial “strategic rents” from Great Britain and the U.S. After 1967, and to a greater extent after the conclusion of the peace treaty between Egypt and Israel in 1979, the Arab oil–producing states became the primary aid donors. These rents, combined with state policy toward their use, produced oversized civilian and security bureaucracies as well as an economy dependent upon regular infusions of aid from abroad, rather than domestic productive activity, to finance expansion.
This heavy reliance on external sources of income and employment made the country even more vulnerable than most small economies to the impact of external shocks. To be fair, the shocks that the Jordanian economy has had to endure have been more numerous and serious than those suffered by almost any other small economy: the loss of critical agricultural land and the addition of some 250,000 new refugees as a result of the 1967 war; the regional recession brought on by the Iran–Iraq war and the drop in oil prices; and the gradual termination (well before their expiration date) of Arab states’ payments of subsidies promised at the 1979 Baghdad summit. More recently, the 1990–91 Gulf crisis triggered an influx of refugees both Jordanian and foreign, the loss of Iraq as a market, the expulsion of Jordanian expatriates from Kuwait (leading to a drop in remittances and increased strains on domestic services), and the termination of Saudi and Kuwaiti aid.
While the Jordanian economy has shown itself to be amazingly resilient in the face of such crises, it has often been aided by the appearance of new sources of economic assistance to replace those just lost. The kingdom’s receipt of high marks from the IMF for progress toward structural adjustment goals along with its participation in the Arab–Israeli peace process have brought debt forgiveness, rescheduling, and additional aid and investment promotion from the West and Japan. Nevertheless, although unemployment, which may have reached 30 percent during the Gulf crisis and war, has dropped, the percentage of Jordanians living below the poverty line has continued to rise, as has the gap between rich and poor.
The Role of External Factors
The previous sections have already alluded to the impact of certain external factors on the kingdom’s development. As a result of Jordan’s location in the midst of several more powerful (militarily, economically, politically) Arab neighbors, Husayn has had to calculate carefully how his policies will affect his regional relations. 3 The close ties with the West, especially Britain and the United States, begun by Jordan’s first king,‘Abdallah, and continued by his grandson Husayn, exposed the country to the wrath of some of Jordan’s neighbors (notably Egypt, and subsequently Syria and Iraq). All of these relationships, of course, were constructed and realigned in the context of Jordan’s place in what was/is the Arab–Israeli conflict. Jordan has the longest border with Israel of any Arab state, and its long sovereignty over the West Bank (1950–1988), as well as its claims to Palestinian loyalty, have meant that Arab–Israeli wars have played a major role in shaping the kingdom’s social, economic, and political development. Most recently, the United States’ insistence upon progress in the peace process has served as an additional incentive to the kingdom to keep the negotiations moving forward. So, too, however, has been the image of Jordan the king has long cultivated—that of a forward–looking country interested in good ties with the West. Positive reviews from U.S. State Department human rights evaluators as well as high marks from the IMF for moving ahead with structural adjustment are all part of preserving this image and what is assumed will be attendant (financial) interest from the West and Japan.
Political history: Early Liberalizations
Jordan has experienced three identifiable periods of political opening. The first, 1954–57, came shortly after Husayn’s assumption of the throne and was precipitated by a number of factors. In the first place, the young monarch was seeking to set his own course, and in so doing often differed with the advisers inherited from his grandfather. 4 In addition, socioeconomic pressures resulting from the incorporation into the kingdom of the West Bank and its refugees (some 900,000, many of whom were destitute and resented the Hashemites, whom they accused of participating in their dispossession) militated economically and administratively for change. Finally, regional ferment owing in part to the Arabs’ defeat in the 1948–49 Palestine war and in part to the rise of pan–Arabism also played a role.
In 1955, Husayn faced the first real crisis of his reign, as the announcement of his intention to join a pro–Western defense grouping, the Baghdad Pact, pushed by both Britain and the United States, triggered street demonstrations throughout the kingdom. The army restored order, but the king retreated from his pledge to adhere to the pact. Within this context, political parties, which were never officially licensed, began to operate openly in the kingdom, appealing to both Transjordanians and Jordanians of Palestinian origin. In October 1956, in the wake of Egyptian president Gamal ‘Abd al–Nasir’s nationalization of the Suez Canal Company, and the surge of Arab nationalist sentiment in the region, the kingdom witnessed its first free elections, which brought in a nationalist government that sought to strengthen Jordan’s ties with its Arab neighbors at the expense of its longstanding ties to Britain.
Whatever changes the king may have introduced, the clear differences between his goals and those of his new government eventually led to a crisis. In April 1957 Husayn dismissed his prime minister, Sulayman Nabulsi, who had gone so far as to begin negotiations to open diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union. Shortly thereafter what has been portrayed as an attempted coup against the king was foiled, and martial law was imposed. Dissident elements were rounded up, while political parties were banned and their members imprisoned or exiled. Scores of military officers and civilian officials were dismissed and some were tried by military courts. The government reimposed censorship on the press. The opening was clearly over.
The development of the Palestinian national movement and the founding of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) in 1964 served as the backdrop to the second opening, a decade later. Following the Arab states’ defeat in the 1967 war, the Palestinian guerrilla organizations began to attract substantial numbers of followers in the kingdom. The war had weakened the army and security apparatus, just as the regime’s loss of legitimacy made it difficult if not impossible to maintain the same tight controls on popular organizing. Thus, the opening of this period was triggered by a defeat in war, loss of territory, and an influx of refugees. The result was a swift and extensive expansion of a variety of organizations, most of them affiliated with one of the Palestinian resistance organizations.
All of this came to an end with the brief war of September 1970 and the eventual expulsion of the Palestinian resistance from the country in July 1971. These events not only marked the end of a period of greater freedom of organizing and expression in the country, although that was certainly severe enough. They also served to reinforce the distinction between native East Bankers, or Transjordanians, and those Jordanian citizens of Palestinian origin. 5 Following the 1974 Rabat Arab League summit’s designation of the PLO as the sole legitimate representative of the Palestinian people, the king dissolved the parliament, in which half of the seats represented West Bank (Palestinian) constituencies, contending that were it to continue to function as constituted it would be a violation of the Rabat accord. However, parliamentary elections were also postponed—indefinitely—so as to avoid an electoral legitimation of the 1967 Israeli occupation of the West Bank and its consequent separation from Jordan.
Parliament remained suspended until 1977, when the king assembled what was called a National Consultative Council, empowered to debate issues but not to legislate. While its membership was expanded in 1981 from 60 to 75 in response to rising public dissatisfaction with the lack of public political process in the kingdom, its practical impact was minimal. Therefore, in 1984, again in response to societal pressures, the king recalled the parliament.
There was, however, nothing else of a particularly liberal nature during this period. The country’s relations with Syria had been deteriorating, triggering a tightening of security in the country. Student demonstrations at Yarmouk University in 1986 were suppressed bloodily by the military, and the outbreak of the Palestinian uprising in December 1987 led to a further tightening of domestic controls as the regime feared a spillover effect. Exacerbating the situation was the fact that the economy had been suffering from the effects of the regional recession brought on by the Iran–Iraq war and the sharp decline in oil prices.
The value of the Jordanian dinar plummeted in early fall 1988. By the end of January 1989 Jordan, no longer able to service its external debt, was forced to negotiate with the IMF to reschedule its debt repayments. The government accepted a program similar to those agreed to by other countries: cutting domestic spending, including subsidies; curbing domestic demand; encouraging exports; and the like. In mid–April 1989, an announced reduction of subsidies on petroleum and petroleum products triggered rioting that began in Ma‘an in the south, and eventually spread to all the major cities of the kingdom with the exception of the capital. The king, who was in the United States at the time, hurried home to address the crisis which, according to Amnesty International, left twelve dead and hundreds wounded and injured. 6
This then was the backdrop to and the immediate catalyst of the liberalization of 1989. The discussion now moves on to a detailed examination of this most recent and most extensive opening in the kingdom’s history. It explores the key issues addressed as well as the changing balance of political forces in the legislature from 1989 through 1995 in order to set the stage for a later analysis of the import of the various discussions and realignments on issues of special concern to women. Several themes emerge as key to shaping the period and hence to framing the discussion. First is the power and position of the Islamists (as demonstrated in their positions on confidence votes and the budget, and their participation in the cabinet and in various legislative initiatives). Second is the relationship between the Islamists and other blocs (especially other conservative forces on the one hand, and leftists on the other). Third is the general weakness of parties of the left, including Arab nationalists of various stripes. As the discussion details, issues of special concern to Jordanian women were directly used or affected in the jockeying for power position among these political forces—including the state—during this period of power reconsolidation.
the Unfolding of the Liberalization: 1989–1994
The most immediate product of the April riots was the resignation of long–time prime minister Zayd al–Rifa‘i on April 24. A cousin of the king’s, Zayd bin Shakir, then Chief of the Royal Court, was tapped to replace Rifa‘i on April 27. By late July Husayn had ordered preparations to begin for parliamentary elections, the first in 22 years, scheduled for November. In the meantime a tentative opening began. 7 Political prisoners began to be released, and as the elections approached, the long (and at that time still officially) illegal political parties began to resurface with impunity, although an article of the Jordanian electoral law banning those with political pasts from running for election was not lifted until three weeks prior to the elections. By mid–September, unprecedented public debate had begun about the upcoming voting and the candidates. 8 The major themes of the campaign were the lifting of martial law (in place since 1967), legalizing political parties, relaxing security measures, supporting the Palestinian intifada and fighting corruption. Among the field of candidates were twelve women, a development openly questioned only by some Islamists. However, their reservations regarding women’s attempts to enter national political life were greeted with numerous criticisms in the press. 9
As had been predicted, none of the women candidates won, although the king did subsequently appoint Layla Sharaf, the former Minister of Information (1984–85), to the Senate. Nevertheless, the election did produce a few surprises. In the first place, the turnout was quite low, about 54 percent of registered voters, 37 percent of eligible voters. Skepticism regarding government intentions deterred some, but the complex processes of registering and voting may well have discouraged others. There were also rumors that PLO chief Yasir ‘Arafat had urged Jordanians of Palestinian origin not to vote, so as not to provide the Israelis with any evidence for their “Jordan is Palestine” case. Whether true or not, the Palestinian turnout was even lower than the national average. 10 Thus the overall participation rate was disappointing, although observers were in accord that the elections had been clean.
The second surprise was the success of the Islamists 11 , who, in various stripes, took more than 30 of the 80 seats. 12 The reasons for their success were clear. Over the years, the Jordanian regime had allowed them a great degree of freedom of action, if not active encouragement. The Muslim Brotherhood, 13 the oldest and largest group in the Islamist camp, had been recognized as a social organization, and hence was not subject to the same restrictions as political parties, which had been declared illegal in 1957. As a result, it was able to expand its network of mosques as well as social, medical, and educational services, and in the process develop a positive reputation as well as a tangible presence on a popular level. The fact that outside Amman women were among the fundamentalists’ strongest base of support is quite telling in this regard. 14 In addition, in contrast to many who had run for parliament, the Islamists generally had no prior governmental experience, no direct association with the corruption that was perceived to have characterized the previous regime. For many average Jordanians there was little reason not to embrace the Islamists’ slogan “Islam is the answer.”
The question then arose as to whether the regime would allow the Islamist successes to stand. 15 The long years of positive association between the regime and the Ikhwan had laid a foundation for, at worst, loyal opposition. Second, the presence of this large “oppositional” bloc in the parliament seemed to attest to the freedom of the elections and to the legitimacy of the representation they produced. 16 This was a positive step in further defusing the tensions that had led to April 1989 and in reinforcing Jordan’s image abroad as a country that was slowly democratizing. The regime opted for inclusion.
Following the elections, on December 4, Mudar Badran was chosen by the king to be prime minister. A former head of the intelligence services, Badran seemed perhaps a strange choice to lead the country’s first liberalization government. However, he was known for his good relations with the Ikhwan, cultivated during an earlier (1980–1984) tenure as prime minister when Jordanian support for them, especially their Syrian members, had played a role in the deterioration of relations between Amman and Damascus. At this stage, aside from Western concerns, there was no reason for the government to seek to exclude them, and Badran held discussions with members of the Brotherhood as part of his consultations aimed at forming a government. In the end, their insistence upon receiving the Education portfolio was not acceptable to Badran and, therefore, he ultimately included six independent Islamists, not Ikhwan members, as ministers of justice, labor, health, social affairs, awqaf, and a minister of state for government affairs. Just as significant, four ministers from the previous government were retained in their posts—foreign affairs, the interior, finance, and energy and mineral resources—thus limiting the break from the past in the most sensitive areas of policy. 17
A harsh debate on whether to accord Badran’s government confidence preceded the vote which, perhaps surprisingly after all the uproar, Badran won easily, with 65 of 80 votes. Many of the MPs’ concerns were addressed in Badran’s rebuttal speech; however, demands of the Ikhwan (a 14–point program that began with the demand for the implementation of shari‘a) figured particularly prominently. The new prime minister stressed the importance of Islam and the fact that it should be reflected in the public information system and in education. Badran also promised to ban alcohol from government functions and public institutions, along with issuing a commitment to repeal the Anti–Communist Law, end martial law within six months, and review the Political Parties Law. In the confidence vote, in addition to the support of the twenty–member Ikhwan bloc, Badran managed to obtain the abstention of six leftists, a success attributed to his responsiveness on the issues of ending martial law and easing restrictions on personal freedoms. Indeed, in these demands, the leftists and Islamists made common cause, 18 although the Islamists were ultimately outmaneuvered by the leftists and other non–Islamists in the vote for speaker of parliament. 19
With a strong confidence vote behind him, Badran had little difficulty passing the new budget, the greatest challenge after the confidence vote. In the debates, the deputies criticized the policies of the past, especially those that had led Jordan to be so heavily indebted. But in the end, aside from calling upon the government to tackle the economic crisis and in particular unemployment, there were few concrete suggestions, and the budget, drafted by the previous government, passed with 52 MPs (18 of them Islamists) voting in favor. 20
Badran then began to make good on his promises related to relaxing martial law. Confiscated passports began to be returned, many who had required official permission to travel were allowed to travel freely, and more political prisoners were released. Ministries were also directed to begin rehiring those who had been dismissed over the years for political reasons. On February 15 the national airline, Royal Jordanian, confirmed a ban on alcohol on all flights to Arab and Islamic destinations. Badran’s government also began moving to end martial law, the defense laws, the military courts, and the anti–communism law. And, for the first time, demonstrations in support of the Palestinian intifada were permitted. While the progress made was promising, there was resistance to some of these measures from certain politically conservative quarters. The move from martial law required not only a decision to change policy at the top, but also a gradual change in mentality and custom, as well as a reassurance that those whose positions had been an integral part of the martial law regime would not be jeopardized. Such an evolution required time.
In February work began on the National Charter, a document called for by the king and intended to be a supplement to the constitution. Husayn argued that the realities of the new period required a reformulation of state–civil society relations. A royal commission was announced on April 9, headed by former prime minister and former head of the mukhabarat Ahmed Obeidat. It comprised sixty members from across the political spectrum, including four women (lawyer Asma Khadr, educator ‘Eida Mutlaq, senator Layla Sharaf, and civil servant and columnist Muna Shuqayr), and ten Islamists (including six members of the Muslim Brotherhood). While work proceeded on the document, its completion was delayed by the Gulf crisis. Finally ratified on June 9, 1991, it guaranteed a pluralist political system, but also required acceptance of the Hashemite monarchy, thus depriving the Arab nationalist and leftist parties of one of the traditionally central planks of their program, and thereby removing from discussion what had been a central and contentious issue in the liberalization of the mid–1950s: the question of the legitimacy of Jordan as an entity and of the Hashemites as rulers of it. 21
In the meantime, with a plurality in parliament, the Islamists began to flex their muscle. In early May 1990 the press reported that the Ministry of the Interior would begin to enforce a ban on male hairdressers. Initially the Ministry denied that such an order existed, but later admitted that it was in keeping with the “general feeling in the country.” The issue had evidently been raised in parliament without fanfare and had been referred to the Administrative Committee of the lower house. It had not yet been presented to the full house, which was in recess at the time, yet the Ministry apparently felt compelled to move ahead with implementation. While never officially taking credit for advocating the ban, the Ikhwan did state that they welcomed it because “it increased women’s employment chances.” 22
Reaction in the press and among the intelligentsia was strongly negative. Some charged the government with following a policy of appeasement toward the Ikhwan, 23 while a group of women met to plan a strategy to pressure the authorities not to enforce the order, arguing that this was just the first step in a longer term strategy against mixing the sexes. 24 Despite an announced scaling back of the application of the ban, by May 18 the Ministry was forced to rescind it altogether. It is unclear whether the outcome owed to the popular lobbying against the measure or to the fact that a similar attempt in Irbid in 1980 had ultimately been overturned in court. Nevertheless, in the meantime Islamists scored victories on other fronts: in a number of student elections, as well as in municipal elections in Aqaba and Zarqa.
The beginning of the Gulf crisis in August 1990 triggered a huge outpouring of popular emotion in the form of demonstrations, meetings, and rallies—a larger mobilization than had taken place before the elections. This was in part because the liberalization had in effect opened up the space for such mass expressions, but also because, on a major and contentious foreign policy issue, the king had taken a position in keeping with the feelings of most Jordanians. Although the king was actually far more cautious in his pronouncements than the Jordanian people, this did not diminish the domestic support he enjoyed. At the same time, however, the mass mobilization pushed off the agenda issues related to moving the liberalization forward, as everyone’s attention was turned toward the Gulf.
The new parliamentary session began in November 1990, in the shadow of the continuing crisis. Its first task was to select the speaker, who would be responsible for guiding house discussions and setting agendas. This time, Islamist ‘Abd al–Latif ‘Arabiyyat bested Badran ally Sulayman ‘Arar for the post (41–28–11). Several factors had produced this outcome. In the first place, the leftists, the so–called Democratic Bloc in parliament, who had not expected a clear victory by ‘Arabiyyat in the first round, had cast blank ballots. Second, ‘Arabiyyat had benefitted from the votes of all the deputies from his electoral district (Balqa) regardless of political affiliation. In addition, ‘Arabiyyat received the support of the powerful Dhuqan Hindawi, a traditional ally of Zayd al–Rifa‘i, a Badran nemesis. Thus, a combination of ideological and tribal solidarities, combined with the Ikhwan’s support for the government in the previous session and their adoption of policies that could bridge the gap with some nationalists enabled them to win the speaker’s post. 25 This changed the face of the government, and negotiations began between Badran and the Islamists over the shape of the next cabinet.
In the meantime, the new budget was presented. Intense debates ensued, with the Islamists arguing for a variety of shari‘a–related economic policies. Their demands were ultimately scaled down, however, and in the end 22 Islamists voted for the budget, which passed 50–25. Then again, quietly, as had happened with the hairdresser ban, the Legal Committee of the house approved a law changing the formula according to which Miri (state) land could be inherited. Up to this point, women and men had been eligible to inherit equal shares of such land. The new law made such lands subject to shari‘a, thereby reducing a Muslim woman’s share to one–half that of her brother’s. The law was proposed and passed by the house so quickly that there was no public reaction until after the fact, when it went to the senate, where it also passed, virtually unchallenged. The Islamists had been joined by a cohort of non–Islamist deputies, including Christians, who reportedly saw nothing detrimental to their interests in a proposal that compromised women’s rights. 26
In early January 1991 an expected cabinet reshuffle was finally announced. This time it was not independent Islamists, but five members of the Muslim Brotherhood who were included in Badran’s cabinet: ‘Abdallah ‘Akaylah, Education; ‘Adnan Jaljuli, Health; Majid Khalifeh, Justice; Yusuf al–‘Athm, Social Development; and Ibrahim Zayd al–Kilani, Religious Affairs. The inclusion of the Ikhwan in the cabinet was described by observers as reflecting both the group’s power and the government’s desire to coopt it. 27 The relationship took on particular importance as the clock ticked down to what seemed inevitable armed confrontation between Iraq and the international coalition, for despite its long–standing support from Saudi Arabia, like the rest of society, the Brotherhood was supportive of the king’s stance in the crisis.
The Islamist ministers, especially ‘Akaylah and al–‘Athm proceeded over the next few months to implement a number of policies, including sex segregation of employees in their respective ministries. The details of these initiatives are elaborated upon in chapter 6, but the importance of the uproar the policies triggered should not be underestimated, for it is credited in part with bringing down the Badran government. On June 17, only six months after the cabinet shuffle, Badran resigned and Tahir al–Masri was tapped for the premiership. The appointment of Masri, known as a liberal, was certainly reassuring to a politically and economically significant sector of Amman society which had been alienated by Badran’s ministers’ controversial policies.
At the same time, however, critical foreign policy considerations were at work. It seemed increasingly likely that a Middle East peace conference was on the horizon, a development the Ikhwan would have been expected to oppose. Masri, a liberal, and the first prime minister in decades to identify himself and be identified by others as a Jordanian of Palestinian origin, was viewed as a natural choice to lead the country at this juncture: only a Palestinian would have the necessary legitimacy to undertake such a step, and no Transjordanian wanted to be in this position, lest he be charged by Palestinians with being a traitor. (Indeed, Foreign Minister ‘Abdallah Nsour, from the northern city of Salt, resigned before the October 1991 Madrid conference.) Masri’s appointment also made more likely the formation of a joint Palestinian–Jordanian delegation to peace talks, the only form of Palestinian participation that the Americans and Israelis were willing to accept at the time. Finally, Masri’s political liberalism enabled him to secure the support of a group of leftist and Arab nationalist deputies known as JANDA (Jordanian Arab National Democratic Assembly) after he promised to work to lift the remaining restrictions on political freedom in the country and not to attempt to infringe on PLO policy. 28
Hence, from the point of view of both domestic and foreign concerns, the stage was set for at least a reduction, if not an exclusion, of Ikhwan influence from the cabinet. One observer also noted that the support of the Ikhwan for infiltration attempts across the Jordan River had so alienated the king that there was no way he would have allowed them to continue to participate in the cabinet at this point. 29 For their part, in response to the disquiet some of their policy initiatives had triggered during their six months in the cabinet, the Ikhwan complained that the Jordanian political system (a non–Islamic government) had prevented them from achieving many of their goals. 30 They also ultimately declared themselves opposed to participating in the Masri government, unwilling to join a government that intended to participate in a Middle East peace conference. Masri then proceeded to assemble a cabinet described by observers as the most liberal in years. It was a coalition of centrists as well as slightly left– and slightly right–leaning politicians, including several independent Islamists.
Yet the change that many viewed optimistically began shakily. One reason was the coalescing of a new parliamentary group, the thirteen–member Constitutional Bloc, which represented the Transjordanian bureaucratic elite. While it initially took no position on the Masri cabinet, its Transjordanian composition led to fears that it would not support a prime minister of Palestinian origin. The Ikhwan had, not surprisingly, made clear they would withhold confidence. In the end, Masri was able to win the confidence vote, 47– 31 , having secured all of the votes of the JANDA group, as well as 6 independent Islamists, and 10 members of the Constitutional Bloc. But it was an unstable coalition, the support of whose members derived from expectations that were incompatible in important respects.
The new prime minister first moved to fulfill his promise regarding expanding public freedoms by repealing (through royal decree) on July 7 most of the martial law regulations in force since 1967. This move was greeted with wide public approval. But trouble was brewing as the convening of a peace conference appeared more and more likely. Masri’s coalition looked increasingly fragile, and there were rumors of a potential cabinet shuffle to include members of the Constitutional Bloc and release those whose position on the peace process was unclear. By late September, deputies Fakhri Qa‘war and Mansour Murad (leftists who under other circumstances should have been natural allies of a Masri government) were calling on the prime minister to resign because of his government’s commitment to attend the Madrid conference. On October 4, the cabinet was reshuffled, but hardly in way that promised long life: no members of the Constitutional Bloc were included, and three key Transjordanian members of the lower house were ousted.31
At the same time, the Islamists were beginning to feel the brunt of a government offensive aimed at reining in those opposed to the peace process. They insisted that they did not want a disruption of democracy and warned that an attempt to curb democratic freedoms might lead to an Algeria–like situation. While they apparently did not believe that Masri himself was encouraging a violation of freedoms, the Ikhwan did feel that the prime minister was not carefully overseeing the activities of the security services. 32 By early October a contraction in political freedoms was clear, as the regime apparently wanted to take no chances as the country moved closer and closer to the Madrid conference. As a result, when the new cabinet was announced, expressions of no confidence were rampant and calls from deputies for Masri’s resignation were raised.
With the peace conference on the horizon, the regular parliamentary session had been postponed and there was no framework within which to raise a no–confidence motion. Nevertheless, shortly after the Madrid conference, parliament began its fall session and a temporary, and in other circumstances unlikely, alliance of Islamist and Constitutional Bloc MPs put forward and won a no–confidence vote. The Islamists’ grievances related both to the peace conference and to their recent harassment by the government. Challenging Masri with a no–confidence vote was a way of sending a message to the regime that they were ready to confront it, if not head–on over the peace process. 33 The Constitutional Bloc’s opposition derived, not from the government’s negotiations with Israel, which this bloc formally supported, but from this powerful constituency’s reported alarm with the implications of Masri’s Palestinian identity and his alliance with the Jordanian left. “Both factors threatened to undermine the status and influence of the traditionalists in the system, especially when they could not secure a dominant role in Masri’s cabinet.” 34 These two groups were then joined in their opposition to Masri by leftists who were both opposed to the government’s participation in the Madrid conference and unhappy that the development of public freedoms had been curtailed by this “liberal” government.
Once Masri was forced out, the atmosphere changed. The Ikhwan did cooperate with the successor government headed by Zayd bin Shakir, 35 although they did not join the cabinet. Whether they had not wanted to join or simply were not asked is not clear. Bin Shakir’s conservatism certainly made him more acceptable to the Ikhwan than Masri; in addition, as the king’s cousin he could not be challenged in the way Masri or Badran had been. Bin Shakir also had the advantage of having the Madrid conference behind him. It was no longer the sitting prime minister who was responsible for having taken Jordan to the negotiating table.
Political observers contended that the Constitutional Bloc had also played a crucial role in bringing about a tacit understanding between the government and the Ikhwan: the government would respect and recognize the role of the Ikhwan in exchange for the latter’s toning down of its opposition. 36 The fact that the Islamists’ candidate, ‘Arabiyyat, won the speakership of the house again, was also significant. Given that their large bloc in parliament was not represented in the cabinet, holding the speakership kept them in the fold, preventing them from constituting total opposition. 37 The Ikhwan’s MPs were among the 27 deputies who withheld confidence from the bin Shakir government, but both the confidence (46–27) and the budget vote (45–20) were easy victories for the government.
Feeling empowered by the dismissal of Masri and the capturing of the speakership, the Ikhwan returned to its favorite targets. On February 28, 1992 the lower house passed a resolution 34–20–26 recommending a ban on the consumption, sale, and manufacture of alcohol by Muslims. Despite their personal inclinations, many legislators feared taking an opposing position on such a sensitive religious matter. Moreover, the vote simply imposed an obligation on the government to prepare a draft law and present it to the house before the end of the next parliamentary session. 38 The Senate then proceeded to delay any further movement on the issue, but the Islamists had won a moral victory.
In April, as the country awaited the promulgation of the new Political Parties Law, the Islamists (the Ikhwan plus independents) announced the formation of the Islamic Action Front (IAF). Following the promulgation of the new law in late July 1992, a number of groups began to submit applications for licenses. In general the process went smoothly; however, in the cases of a Ba‘thist and communist party, initial requests for licensing were denied by the Ministry of the Interior. (The parties appealed the decisions and, after minor changes in name and program, were granted licenses.) On the other hand, the law’s requirement that the parties not be extensions of external organizations—a stipulation that could have obstructed the transnational Ikhwan’s attempt to register itself in Jordan as the IAF—was not applied in this case, and the IAF was licensed in early December 1992.
In the meantime, there were a number of developments that energized the Islamists. The first was the case of MP Ya‘qub Qirrish and the popular MP and engineer Layth Shubaylat. These two Islamists were arrested in September 1992 along with a group of others and charged with illegal possession and transport of weapons and belonging to an illegal organization. While initially the charges of subversion alienated people, as it became clear that at least some state evidence had been manufactured or doctored, popular sympathy turned to the accused. Furthermore, the timing of the arrests—as Shubaylat was heading an anti–corruption campaign that came close to indicting the king’s long–time friend and former prime minister Zayd al–Rifa‘i—led some to speculate that the entire episode had been fabricated as a way of punishing the MP. Although the two were convicted and sentenced to twenty years at hard labor, a few days later as part of a broad royal pardon, both were amnestied. However, in a November 23 speech the king made clear that Jordan would not tolerate “those elements that seek to impair our country’s image and take us back to the past.” 39 His message was clear, as he declared his continuing support for pluralism and democracy.
In late November, Islamists won student elections in Irbid and municipal elections in Karak. Although a crack in the Islamist bloc occurred in late December, as independents expressed their dissatisfaction with their representation in the IAF’s consultative (shura) council, this did not seem to severely damage their influence. In January 1993, the Islamists received a boost with the Israeli expulsion from the occupied Palestinian territories of 415 so–called Hamas (Islamic Resistance Movement) activists to southern Lebanon. The stage was then set for renewed muscle flexing in the parliament.
After the relatively painless passage of the proposed budget for 1993 (by a 58–11 vote, with only a handful of Islamists opposed), the first legislative skirmish of the season came with the vote in the house on an Islamist–sponsored amendment aimed at segregating the sexes in sports and recreational facilities governed by the Ministry of Youth. In late January, the lower house of Parliament passed a draft law (the idea for which had in fact first been introduced in 1992), 34–19, banning the government from licensing recreational centers, sports clubs, and swimming clubs that did not separate men and women. The vote took place when a number of deputies had left for the afternoon, which may explain the vote’s success; however, as was the case with the bill on alcohol, some deputies supported the legislation (or absented themselves) so as not appear to be taking a position in opposition to Islamic law. Islamist MPs had already succeeded in requiring the investments of the Civil Defense Martyrs Fund to be accord with shari‘a. 40
The Islamists did not fare so well on their next project, which was an attempt to force sex segregation in schools. On March 10, the lower house defeated the proposal, which had come from the Islamist–dominated Education Committee and been endorsed by the Judiciary Committee. Only 16 of the 59 deputies present voted for the bill. One deputy, Faris al–Nabulsi, who had read a statement citing sayings of the Prophet Muhammad which he claimed proved there was no clear call for sex segregation, was nearly physically assaulted by Islamist deputies following the vote. One called him a “promoter of corruption [who sought] to prostitute Jordan.” Others shouted similar insults, while one had to be physically restrained. The government position, presented by Deputy Prime Minister and Education Minister Dhuqan Hindawi, opposed the bill, but on the grounds of the economics, not the principle, of the position. Hindawi argued that most Jordanian schools were segregated and that co–education was resorted to only in remote areas where there were insufficient numbers of students to open separate schools for boys and girls. To ban co–education, he claimed, would deny many citizens their constitutional right to an education because the government could not afford to build the additional facilities required by the adoption of such a measure. 41
By this time it appeared to some observers that the government had been making concessions to the Islamists on social is sues as a way of softening their opposition to the peace process. 42 The government was in fact criticized in the press for remaining silent or aloof on the contentious issues of coeducation and mixed swimming pools. 43 At the same time, however, as we have seen, the leftists generally failed to take a strong position in opposition to the Islamists on certain key issues, because their own ranks were in disarray and they were struggling to prevent further marginalization. They did not want to be seen as both bad Muslims and marginalized politicians, yet, virtually anything they said, particularly on issues related to the family or women, would constitute an open challenge to the shari‘a. Their solution was to keep silent or to side with the Islamists.
By spring 1993, the regime was already planning for the fall 1993 elections and considering ways to diminish the Islamists’ influence. The primary goal was to ensure that they would be in no position, whether from parliament or from local governing bodies, to challenge the next stage in the peace process, which many assumed would soon produce a Jordanian–Israeli treaty. In late May the king asked medical doctor and former president of Jordan University ‘Abd al–Salam al–Majali to head a new government. Since the parliament was—not coincidentally—not in session, there was no need for a confidence vote. Comprising ministers of different political orientations (except the Brotherhood) the government was presented as temporary, intended to run the country until elections were held. The appointment of Majali, who also headed Jordan’s delegation to the peace conference, was a clear reaffirmation of the kingdom’s commitment to the peace process. And, although the call was indirect, his mandate also included a reexamination of the electoral law, the goal of which—although denied by the government—was to reduce the numbers of Islamists in parliament.
At a June 10 press conference the king stated that it was still too early to discuss a revision of the Electoral Law, but that any modification would be based on dialogue and democratic principles. Nevertheless, rumors about how the law might be changed began to swirl. One proposal—a quota for women—was widely discussed. The IAF opposed this idea, but also seemed likely to run women candidates were the provision adopted. There was also wide debate of the one–person, one–vote proposal, which would have constituted a simplification of Jordan’s electoral law. The Islamists and others had benefitted from the kingdom’s multiple–vote per elector system, which lent itself to vote swapping. A one–person, one–vote system threatened to put an end to such deals. The Islamists, quite rightly, saw such a change as intended to cut their power, and threatened to boycott elections if the law were so amended.
By late July, sixteen of the country’s political parties had announced their support of the IAF position to boycott elections if parliament was dissolved and the law changed. On August 4 the king dissolved parliament, but announced that elections would be held without electoral modification. Yet two weeks later, he announced his ratification of a temporary amendment of the Electoral Law instituting the one–person, one–vote principle. It was presented as if it were Majali’s law, but there was no question that the order had come from the palace. The king had obviously wanted to take no chances that a combination of Islamists, Arab nationalists, and leftists might muster sufficient votes to make passage of such a measure problematic. Despite initial threats, the IAF announced its intention to run candidates after 85 percent of its consultative council members voted in favor of participation in the elections. 44
Then came the truly unexpected. Without warning, the PLO announced that it had reached a draft peace accord with the Israelis. Husayn was reportedly furious that he had not been consulted before the results of these secret negotiations were announced. His anger was then echoed by Transjordanians, who felt that this was exemplary of PLO (and by extension, general Palestinian) lack of gratitude to and respect for the king and the kingdom over the years. Some argued that if, as a result, Palestinian elections were around the corner, then Jordanian elections should be postponed; otherwise, Jordanians of Palestinian origin might vote in Jordanian elections and then return to Palestine to vote in elections there as well. After wide debate in the kingdom, all indications were that the king had decided to postpone the elections. Yet, at the last minute, to everyone’s surprise, he allowed the elections to go ahead as scheduled. But much of the excitement and fanfare that had accompanied the election period in 1989 were absent. Part of the explanation lay in the fact that for several weeks it had been unclear whether elections would be held or not. In addition, at the beginning of the official campaign period, the Ministry of the Interior had issued a ruling—directed primarily at the Islamists—that no rallies could be held in public places. (In Jordan there are very few private spaces large enough for real rallies.) This ban was overturned by the Higher Court of Justice before the elections, but the damage was done.
The electoral outcome was in line with what the regime had sought: a 50 percent reduction in the Islamist presence in parliament. However, trouble within Islamist ranks had also hurt their chances. Problems first arose as it had become clear that, despite the IAF’s pretensions to be more than the political party extension of the Muslim Brotherhood, that was what it was. Independent Islamists began to desert it, and a major split occurred in late May 1993. Then, some IAF members refused to abide by party discipline and accept the party’s choices for candidates in their districts. Some of those not chosen pursued their parliamentary aspirations without official support, thereby diluting the impact of the Islamist vote.
In addition, however, the new law had led, if not to a resurgence then to an increased prominence, of the tribal factor. With only one vote to cast, Transjordanians were unlikely to vote for someone outside their own tribe. And Palestinians, with no vote to lose, were likely to vote for the person who could best deliver to his/her constituency. That meant someone with good connections with the government, usually a Transjordanian. 45 Hence the new parliament was characterized by an increased number of tribal/politically conservative/pro–government deputies. Fewer than a fifth of those elected were Palestinians, and of those, the majority belonged to the Islamic Action Front. The other notable outcome of the elections was that a woman was elected for the first time to the Jordanian parliament: Toujan Faisal, the former broadcaster whose campaign for parliament in 1989 had been marred by Islamist intimidation. 46
The new parliament comprised four major blocs: the IAF, the National Action Front (the Transjordanian al–‘Ahd party), the Jordanian National Front (centrist/liberal), and the Progressive Democratic Alliance (leftists and pan–Arabists). Tahir al–Masri, who had won his parliamentary reelection bid, overwhelmingly defeated the IAF candidate, ‘Abdallah ‘Akaylah, for the speakership of the House (57–22). The king asked Majali to continue as prime minister and to form a new government, which again included no Islamists, since they had indicated that they would not participate in a government involved in peace talks with the Israelis. Rima Khalaf, who took over the Trade and Industry portfolio, became the first woman to serve as minister in nine years. Also notable about Majali’s cabinet was the complete absence of MPs. This was unprecedented and in part explains why the confidence vote was hardly overwhelming (41–29–9). Nevertheless, when it came time for the budget vote only five weeks later, it was won 56–20, with opposition coming from an increasingly common combination of IAF members and leftists.
The Islamists undertook no new legislative initiatives during this period. However, the law on segregating sports facilities was finally sent back to the house after the senate introduced several changes. The senate had deleted the clause stipulating that the Ministry of Youth segregate sexes at public pools, but the house insisted on reintroducing it. 47 However, the deputies did agree that the law would not apply to hotels, public beaches or clubs, since these facilities fell outside the realm of jurisdiction of that ministry. The Islamists had seemed most concerned that the newly booming business of sports clubs be regulated, but also that swimming pools be included. In the end, 37 of 64 deputies present voted for the bill; and, in what was becoming a tradition on such issues, many of the liberal deputies simply absented themselves from the vote. 48
The Opening Closes
By late spring 1994, the political liberalization, which had suffered its first major setback in the fall of 1991 prior to Madrid, was grinding to a halt. Renewed, if indirect, restrictions began to be placed on the press, based on the new Press and Publications Law. Jordanian courts at the time had some twenty cases before them, raised by the government and government agencies, against journalists representing a range of publications: Al–Ahali (leftist weekly), Jordan Times (semi–official), al–Bilad (weekly tabloid). The clamp on freedom of expression tightened even further as summer began, and as it suddenly became clear that Jordan soon intended to sign its own peace agreement with Israel. This move also exacerbated Palestinian–Jordanian tensions in the kingdom as Yasir ‘Arafat reacted with displeasure to the Jordanian move.
In a related development, in late spring 1994, the government had presented a draft Municipal Councils Law. The draft law called for the dissolution of all municipal councils and the holding of new elections on July 1, 1995. Eight municipal councils were subsequently dissolved and replaced with committees headed by appointed governors. The Islamists felt this law was aimed at them, since the government had chosen to dissolve such councils as that of Zarqa, many of whose members were Islamists. 49
On June 28, 1994 there was yet another cabinet reshuffle. Majali had come under increasing attack for being too removed from parliament, because of the absence of deputies from his cabinet. Not wanting to risk the development of further parliamentary opposition at this critical juncture, Majali replaced nine ministers with ten (non–Islamist) parliamentarians. Less than a month later, Jordan signed a preliminary peace agreement with Israel. In response, by August 1 the anti–peace treaty content of the Friday sermons of some of the IAF MPs had led three to be detained and summoned to appear in court. The following day, the IAF announced that its deputies would quit the parliament. They quickly withdrew this threat, but on August 10 they called for the formation of a National Islamic Front to oppose normalization of relations with Israel. In the meantime, a number of Islamist deputies were called in by Crown Prince Hassan and lectured to (televised after the fact to the public) regarding how they were expected to behave. The Crown Prince emphasized that their using the mosques as a political forum would not be tolerated. For their part, the IAF MPs reiterated their rejection of the peace process and complained of what they saw as a government crackdown on opposition. 50
Shock over the suddenness of the move toward peace was clear. Then, in quick succession, additional evidence of normalization appeared: direct phone lines to Israel and the occupied territories, and the king’s return to Jordan through Israeli airspace, escorted by Israeli jets. While some were excited and optimistic, many were simply stunned. Among others—Islamists, Arab nationalists, and leftists—the anti–normalization battle cry began to be raised. There was also heated discussion in the parliament, but there was no question, given the balance of forces, that the king would have his way. On October 26 the treaty was signed, and on November 6 the lower house ratified it by a 55–23 vote.
Although Majali had little trouble getting the 1995 budget passed (52–22, with the traditional combination of Islamists and leftists opposed), there was little doubt in December that a cabinet reshuffle was on the horizon. 51 In the event, Majali was dismissed and bin Shakir was brought back. The crown prince met with the Ikhwan on January 3 on the need to keep the lines of communication open, and they expressed their optimism regarding an improvement in relations with the new government. Bin Shakir met their leader, ‘Abd al–Majid Dhunaybat, and they appeared amenable to joining the cabinet under certain conditions. But bin Shakir wanted no potential opposition, and therefore the Islamists were excluded from the consultations aimed at forming the government. One analyst argued that the Islamists were losing their support in parliament and among the public at large. The regime, which had been working for such an outcome both directly and indirectly, was therefore not inclined to provide them with an opportunity to regain their strength through government offices and access to state funds. 52 In any case, the new cabinet was sworn in on January 8, 1995. Bin Shakir kept Rima Khalaf (although she was moved to the Ministry of Planning) and added Salwa Damen–Masri as minister of Social Affairs, thus giving the kingdom its first ever two–woman cabinet. The confidence vote was 54–22–1, with those opposed again the IAF and the leftists.
Building upon the October 1994 peace accord and expanding relations with Israel (while distancing Jordan from Iraq) became the clear government priorities. With serious economic stakes involved (debt forgiveness, foreign investment, bilateral aid), the government was not about to take any chances that the peace process might be sabotaged. The king would drag the Jordanian people kicking and screaming, if necessary, although the opportunities for screaming openly were increasingly circumscribed. Such policies would have put it on a collision course with a substantial number of deputies in the 1989 parliament. But the attempts through parliamentary elections and dissolution of municipal councils to cut the Islamists’ power on the one hand and to bolster center/right traditionalists on the other had paid off. Whatever popular dissatisfaction might arise, the government (the king) did not have to worry about being challenged significantly from within elected state bodies.
Counting on the July 1995 municipal elections to reassert their strength, the Islamists billed the vote as a referendum on the peace process and appealed to people’s dissatisfaction and fears regarding the peace accords. Contrary to their expectations, however, the “anti–peace process referendum” elicited little popular interest. The turnout was low and the Islamists won only 8 mayorships of 259 contested, although among the eight were several important ones, including Madaba, Irbid, and Kerak. Indeed, active or vocal opposition to normalization remained limited, with the most notable example that of the various professional associations that took anti–normalization stands and banned their members from visiting Israel or having professional contacts with Israelis. This angered the king and on more than one occasion he took the professional associations or some of their leaders to task for their involvement in politics. Attempts to organize anti–normalization rallies were also largely quashed.
In January 1996, to put an end to the growing sense of dissatisfaction and to curb corruption, the king announced a White Revolution and appointed a young former minister, ‘Abd al–Karim Kabariti, to lead a government charged with cleaning house. Kabariti promised to work to protect public freedoms (a concern of all) and to fight corruption. The group of ministers finally assembled by the new prime minister left people unimpressed at best, although Kabariti himself seemed to generate optimism and support. 53 Although he included no Islamists in his cabinet, prior to the confidence vote, the IAF had been making very positive noises about the 40–something prime minister. In the event, he won a sweeping 57–19–2 victory, with two IAF deputies breaking ranks by abstaining and another by absenting himself from the session, signaling a possible new split in the Front. During his first 100 days in office, a number of potentially important governmental reforms were begun, but Islamists complained of growing numbers of arrests among their ranks. The general sense of drift continued, as many people, including increasing numbers of Transjordanians, were more openly expressing dissatisfaction with the economic situation (which exploded in bread riots in August 1996), the “peace process,” the regime’s new anti–Iraq tilt, the seeming omnipresence of the royal family, and on top of the entire system, the king himself.
Conclusions
By 1996, the episode of regime transition and reconsolidation following the events of 1989 had clearly ended. The country had passed from a period of free elections and significant widening of public freedoms to a gradual reassertion of some of the pre–1989 boundaries and practices.
The primary theme of the period is that of the changing fortunes of the Islamists, as they emerged from the November 1989 elections with more than a third of the seats in parliament, only to lose nearly half of those seats by 1993 and by 1995 to have their presence in municipal councils seriously reduced as well. Although the scale of their success in 1989 was evidently not anticipated by the authorities, of all the parties that might have emerged victorious from these elections, the Islamists had a history of the closest association with the regime. As a result, from the beginning, the inclination toward inclusion or cooptation was present, although there was certainly concern that the Islamists not be able to use their weight to work against policies that were seen as critical to the regime. In the early period of the liberalization, the possibilities for expression were quite broad, thus giving the Ikhwan and others a wide margin for activity. Certainly until the end of Badran’s government, and even until the election of the 1993 parliament, this meant that they were able to lobby for a number of laws or amendments that they saw as critical to their social program, among them, several notable examples that were or appeared threatening to women. On the other hand, although the Islamists have actively criticized government economic policies past and present, at no time have they attempted to organize real opposition to any aspect of the IMF agreement or structural adjustment, nor have they ever asked for any of the economic portfolios. Prior to the signing of the Jordan–Israel peace treaty, they seemed to prefer to invest their political capital in the social and educational realms. Tahir al–Masri even contended that the Islamists did not want to win enough to seats to have a majority in parliament because they knew that would not be allowed to push for much of their program. 54
Because the process of reconsolidation within a more open political framework was still under way, because Jordan is a conservative society, and because of the tremendous support the Islamists appeared to command at the time, following the 1989 elections, it made pragmatic sense to cultivate Islamist support through various forms of inclusion. At the same time, those organized political forces that might otherwise have been expected to counter the Islamists were uninterested in the issues under discussion or too weak openly to challenge the “party of God.” In several cases, as we shall see in chapter 6, opposition came from outside the parliament.
Although the Islamists’ representation in parliament was not cut until fall 1993, a number of factors began to whittle away at their power, which had reached its zenith with their inclusion in Badran’s second cabinet. First and foremost, Jordan’s move toward peace negotiations began to close the door on freedom of expression, as reining in the critics of the peace process required reviving some of the martial law practices which had, to that point, been on the decline. It was one thing if Islamists wanted to ban the licensing of new male hairdressers—an issue in which the regime could have had only passing interest. However, as decisionmakers understood it, the kingdom’s participation in the peace process was based on a number of domestic, regional, and international imperatives, the most important of which were the presumed economic benefits that would attend achieving a settlement. No political group was going to be allowed to obstruct a key foreign policy initiative of the king’s. Coming more than two years after the riots of April, and in the wake of the popular shock that the swift defeat of Iraq had triggered, the legitimacy of the regime was no longer an issue, the population was demoralized, and the balance of political forces in the kingdom was better understood and could therefore be more easily managed. 55
By marginalizing the Islamists’ ability to play the role of partners of the regime, the peace process offered other groups, which were smaller but eager to become or return to the role of central players by demonstrating their loyalty, a chance to (re)assert themselves. At the same time, as a continuation of the king’s long–standing, successful strategy of reforming his opponents, the regime undertook a variety of policies—primary among them offering ministerial and other prominent posts—to coopt leftists and Arab–nationalists. Hence, the Islamists were increasingly under a form of national house arrest, and the only other opposition, already seriously weakened by the more general decline of the left and of pan–Arabism, was either coopted or, if it insisted upon opposition to the peace, relegated to the same house arrest as the Islamists. The door was therefore open for the centrists/rightists to return to prominence.
This is not to imply that the situation of public freedoms in Jordan is as it was prior to April 1989. There is no question that there is now greater freedom of expression and movement, just as there are fewer political arrests and detentions. But the level of freedom of expression is not what it was during the summer of 1991, for example. Battles to prevent further encroachment on public freedoms continue, certainly on the margins, sometimes more centrally. But it is as if the regime, which was willing to entertain a variety of suggestions and critiques while it was on life support and in the intensive care ward, has, once recovered, dismissed the vast majority of consulting physicians, and while resigned to some modifications in behavior, nonetheless remains largely unreformed.
It is perhaps ironic, but certainly in keeping with experiences elsewhere, that the period of greatest uncertainty regarding the possible extent or results of the liberalization was also the period of greatest opening. It was during this time that the Islamists’ surge and the state’s desire to reconsolidate through cultivating their support or at least through not antagonizing them on issues it viewed as secondary, led to some negative developments for women in the legislative realm. In addition, however, one cannot overlook the role of the king, who is very concerned with maintaining Jordan’s forward–looking image. 56 His inclinations, combined with the reining in of the Islamists because of the peace process, no doubt also played a key role in forestalling proposals of more conservative changes in the realm of women and the family.
This is in no way to suggest that the king is a feminist: a number of specific examples of the precarious nature of women’s rights or the state’s dubious policies toward half of its citizens will be provided in chapter 6. First, however, using this presentation as background, the chapter that follows provides a summary of the history of the women’s movement, women’s legal status, and the role that foreign institutions have played recently in these areas.
Endnotes
Note 1: For a discussion of the political role of these unions, see Laurie A. Brand, Palestinians in the Arab World: Institution Building and the Search for State (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), pp. 177–79. Back.
Note 2: Circassians are a minority group from the Caucasus that was offered refuge in what is now Jordan and other parts of the Ottoman empire in the late 1880’s. Christians are an indigenous minority that make up about 5–6% of the Jordanian population. Back.
Note 3: See Laurie A. Brand, Jordan’s Inter–Arab Relations: The Political Economy of Alliance Making (New York: Columbia University, Press, 1994). Back.
Note 4: See Robert Satloff, From Abdallah to Hussein (New York: Oxford, 1995). Back.
Note 5: The breakdown of population between Transjordanians and Jordanians of Palestinian origin is a subject of great sensitivity as well as speculation. The results of the 1995 national census, which would have provided answers to this question, have not been released, for political reasons. Palestinians tend to overestimate their numbers, while Transjordanians have a tendency to underestimate the numbers of Jordanians of Palestinian origin. On the basis of my own calculations and observations, and the results of sampling that was part of public opinion surveys conducted by the Center for Strategic Studies of Jordan University, I am convinced that the breakdown is within a couple of percentage points of 50–50, with the balance tipping slightly to the Palestinian side. Back.
Note 6: “Jordan,” Amnesty International 1990 Report (New York: Amnesty International Publishing, 1990), p. 137. Back.
Note 7: Malik Mufti, “Elite Bargains and Political Liberalization in Jordan,” draft article accepted for publication by Comparative Political Studies, pp. 7–9. From interviews with the small circle of advisors to the king at this time, Mufti argues that the opening was viewed as tactical. He also shows just how fragile the initial decision to liberalize was. Back.
Note 8: Middle East International (hereafter, MEI) September 22, 1989. Back.
Note 9: Pascaline Eury, Jordanie: Les Elections Législatives du 8 Novembre 1989 (Beirut: Centre d’Etudes et Recherches sur le Moyen Orient Contemporain,CERMOC, 1991), p. 43. Toujan Faisal, who directly addressed their insults and criticisms, was targeted with an unprecedented campaign of harassment, including charges that she was an apostate and could therefore be killed. The Faisal affair, which became famous well beyond Jordan, is examined in detail in chapter 6. Back.
Note 10: Eury, Jordanie, pp. 55–57. Back.
Note 11: Mufti, “Elite Bargains,” p. 11. He cites high–level interviewees who told him that although government–commissioned polls had “accurately predicted the election results, the intelligence services remained convinced that the Islamists would win only 8–15 seats . . .” Back.
Note 12: The numbers of Islamists vary, depending upon which source one consults. The problem derives from defining who is an independent Islamist. I found the number of Islamist MPs given to be as many as 34, and as few as 28. Most often 28 or 30 is cited. What seems most important is that even if one takes the lowest figure, Islamists controlled more than one–third of the 80–seat house. Back.
Note 13: The Muslim Brotherhood in Jordan is an offshoot of the movement of the same name founded in Egypt in the 1930s. While it accounts for the majority of Islamists in Jordan, struggles internal to the movement as well as approaches outside the Ikhwan have meant that there are a significant number of independent Islamists as well. Back.
Note 14: MEI, 25 May 1990. Back.
Note 15: Mufti argues that Husayn was not inclined to reject the election results so soon after the opening and accepted the arguments of the pro–liberalization group among his advisers that oppositional voices could be contained—through various forms of cooptation and implication in the system. Mufti, “Elite Bargains,” p. 13. Back.
Note 16: Eury, Jordanie, p. 67. Back.
Note 17: Louis–Jean Duclos, “Les Elections Législatives en Jordanie,” Maghreb–Machrek 129 (Juillet–Septembre 1990): 66. Mufti argues that the Ikhwan was not interested in cabinet participation at this point. Mufti, “Elite Bargains,” p. 15. Back.
Note 18: Jordan Times (hereafter, JT), January 3, 1990. Back.
Note 19: The Islamists’ candidate, Yusuf Mubayyidin, lost to a Transjordanian political conservative, Sulayman ‘Arar, 44–36. Back.
Note 20: JT, February 6, 1990. Zakat is a form of tithing in Islam. Back.
Note 21: Eury, Jordanie, p. 68. Back.
Note 22: JT, 15 May 1990. Back.
Note 23: While the category “Islamists” is broader than the Ikhwan, the word “Ikhwan” is often used by Jordanians to refer to all Islamists. Back.
Note 24: JT, May 8, 1990. Back.
Note 25: Sultan Hattab, “The Muslim Brotherhood: The Road to Government,” JT, November 19, 1990. Back.
Note 26: The details of a number of such laws and deals are provided in one of the cases in chapter 4. Back.
Note 27: MEI, January 11, 1991. Back.
Note 28: MEI, June 28, 1991. Back.
Note 30: JT, June 22, 1991. Back.
Note 31: In the Jordanian political system, members of the lower house may also serve simultaneously as cabinet ministers. Back.
Note 32: JT, December 19–20, 1991. Back.
Note 33: See the series of JT articles written by Lamis Andoni analyzing the failure of the Masri government, November 23, 24, and 27, 1991. Back.
Note 34: MEI, January 24, 1992. Back.
Note 35: Interview with Tahir al–Masri, May 11, 1993. Back.
Note 36: JT, December 19–20, 1991. Back.
Note 37: JT, December 1, 1991. Back.
Note 38: JT, March 23, 1993. Back.
Note 39: “Chronology: Jordan,” Middle East Journal 47 (2) (Spring 1993): 327. Back.
Note 40: JT, March 11–12, 1993. Back.
Note 42: Interview with Senator Layla Sharaf, July 1, 1993; interview with Professor of Psychology at Jordan University and women’s activist Arwa al–‘Amiri, May 10, 1993. Back.
Note 43: Commentary by Walid Sa‘adi, JT, March 1, 1993. Back.
Note 44: JT, August 28, 1993. Back.
Note 45: It should be noted here that, owing to the existing electoral district boundaries, which do not capture comparable numbers of voters in each district, the urban areas—especially Amman and Zarqa—are grossly underrepresented. Given that Palestinians live in greatest concentration in just these urban areas, this means that the kingdom’s citizens of Palestinian origin are underrepresented in parliament. Back.
Note 46: As noted earlier, this story will be dealt with in depth in chapter 6. Back.
Note 47: JT, May 30, 1994. Back.
Note 48: JT, May 31, 1994. Back.
Note 49: JT, June 4, 1994. Back.
Note 50: See editorial by Musa Keilani, JT, August 6, 1994. My recollection of the broadcast differs markedly from that of Keilani. Back.
Note 51: JT, December 6, 1994. Back.
Note 52: MEI, January 20, 1995. Back.
Note 53: A survey conducted by Jordan University’s Center for Strategic Studies, “Formation of the New Government, February 1996,” indicated that among the public at large, 51.7% were optimistic about Kabariti himself, but only 32.2% were optimistic about his cabinet selections. Back.
Note 54: Masri interview. Back.
Note 55: It has been argued that the king was in fact in control from the beginning and that the legalization of political parties (particularly the leftists) was undertaken to counterbalance the power of the Islamists, since it was believed that these two groups would not support the same position on any issues. See Eury, Jordanie, p. 68. However, this seems to assume more control and knowledge of the balance of forces than, at very least, the regime’s expectations of the 1989 election results would have suggested. Moreover, if correct, it would represent another mistaken assumption, since the leftists and the Islamists were in accord on the issue of expanding public freedoms, and some of their members continued to vote together in opposition to the various government–proposed budgets as well as the peace treaty. Back.
Note 56: MEI, January 24, 1992. Back.
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