Monday, Aug. 27, 1990
The Beleaguered Messenger
By William E. Smith
For almost four decades, the diminutive ruler has been exceptionally successful at one thing: survival in an unforgiving and violent region. But last week Jordan's King Hussein sped off to the U.S. in hopes of extricating himself from one of the most dangerous crises of his reign. His mission: to initiate a solution to the gulf confrontation that would also free his country from the irreconcilable demands of two old allies, the U.S. and Iraq.
Washington seeks Jordan's cooperation to close the economic noose around Iraq, starting at the Red Sea port of Aqaba. But Saddam Hussein, who has taken the vulnerable King under his protection during the past two years, just as urgently wants Jordan to keep the Aqaba-to-Baghdad lifeline open. The King has teetered from one crisis to another for years, but this time his predicament is awesome. And his ability to survive is of crucial importance to the long- term disposition of the Middle East.
In the past it was the monarch's considerable diplomatic skill that saved him. That, plus his habitual reluctance to define his own position too clearly, served to make him the Mercury of the region, the messenger who could talk to all sides. Not surprisingly, he has emerged in this crisis as the only Arab leader who can meet on intimate terms with both Saddam and President Bush.
But a week of whirlwind travel from one capital to the other did not work well for the King. In Baghdad he was believed to have obtained a letter from Saddam for the U.S. President, widely regarded as a possible sign that Iraq might be interested in negotiation. In fact, the King came to Washington with nothing more than his own urgent pleas.
He was met with a correct but chilly reception. The coolness reflected American displeasure at Hussein's refusal to denounce Iraq's aggression and to enlist firmly in the international coalition ranged against Saddam. Bush was particularly angered when the King praised Saddam as an "Arab patriot." While Jordan pledged to uphold the U.N. sanctions against Iraq, Hussein has dallied in putting them into effect. He said his country is "studying" how and when to implement an embargo and questioned whether it should cover food.
That was not good enough for Bush. During their two-hour conversation in Kennebunkport, Me., he made it clear to the King that the U.S. expects Jordan to close the port of Aqaba to all Iraqi cargo, in or out -- and that if he fails to do so, the U.S. will interdict the cargo outside the port. As his trade is cut off elsewhere, Saddam desperately needs Aqaba to remain open if any Iraqi oil is to slip out and vitally needed supplies of food and manufactured goods are to get in. Bush wanted ironclad assurances that Jordan would halt all shipments to Baghdad.
After the meeting, Bush said he was "pleased" that the King will cooperate. Hedging, Hussein carefully repeated Jordan's more equivocal position: it will abide by the United Nations sanctions endorsed by the Security Council on Aug. 6 but is seeking "clarification" about the exact meaning of those sanctions, as it has the right to do under the U.N. charter.
The issue is a crucial one for the King. If Jordan can continue to send food supplies to Iraq as part of the medical and other emergency shipments permitted by the U.N., Hussein just might be able to finesse his obligations to both sides by technically adhering to the sanctions while still modestly servicing his friendship with Iraq.
Even minimal cooperation in the embargo will cost Jordan dearly. It is entwined in a tight economic embrace with Iraq: 40% of Jordan's exports go to Iraq, while the kingdom receives 90% of its oil from Baghdad. The crisis has disrupted the lucrative remittances from the nearly 300,000 Jordanians working in the gulf states. With unemployment already climbing above 15%, Jordan will suffer severe economic dislocation if it cuts trade ties with its main partner. If Jordan blocks its port, Bush has offered to help offset the cost of its losses, estimated at $2 billion a year, with contributions from the U.S. and its allies.
In any case, the U.S. can offer no antidote to the virulent Arab nationalism that has drawn much of Jordan's population to Saddam's side since the crisis erupted. Saddam's appeals to Arab pride, resentment and xenophobia have exposed a deep vein of sympathy among the mostly poor populace, at least half of which is Palestinian. The Jordanian man in the street has responded eagerly to Iraq's depiction of the crisis as a war against foreign interference and greedy gulf-state rulers who have kept Arab oil wealth to themselves. Frustrated by the stalled peace process and fearful of the influx of Soviet Jews into Israel, many Jordanians see in Saddam a bold ruler who is willing and able to stand up to the West. As if to prove it, thousands of Jordanians are signing up to join the Iraqi army. Organizers of the Popular Front in Support of Iraq say 80,000 -- including boys as young as seven -- have volunteered to go into battle against the U.S.
$ Jordanians deeply resent the disparity between their poor nation and the lavish lands of the gulf. Kuwait's per capita income last year was more than $13,000, while Jordan's was just $1,500. Jordanians are shamed by the handouts their country accepts from the gulf yet angered that the annual dole from such states as Kuwait has dwindled.
Characteristically, the King has managed to keep in stride with popular sentiment. During the Iran-Iraq war, his country stood firmly behind Iraq, trucking much of its military supplies and consumer goods up the road from Aqaba. When riots shook the kingdom last year, Hussein sacked his Prime Minister and boyhood friend Zaid Rifai and for the first time since 1967 allowed parliamentary elections, in which large numbers of Islamic fundamentalists were voted in. While the King's own popularity remained fairly strong, and although he has won overwhelming support in this crisis for his firm opposition to foreign intervention, he is still insecure.
If the King tilts into the U.S. camp, his popularity could swiftly erode. And he is clearly torn. In recent years his close relationship with Washington has withered. He was hurt by Congress's refusal in 1985 to authorize the sale of sophisticated weapons to replace his aging arsenal. He has been frustrated by Washington's failure to nudge Israel into peace talks. He has watched the U.S. shift its big-dollar aid to Egypt. While his head may tell him to side with the U.S., his heart is less willing to trust so unreliable a friend.
Before the Kennebunkport meeting, Hussein said he hoped the crisis would now "begin to de-escalate." But it does not appear to be nearing a peaceful solution, and the King's position remains dire. "He is playing a very dangerous game," says Asher Susser, head of the Dayan Center at Israel's Tel Aviv University. "He is geopolitically sandwiched between Iraq and Israel." If he should fall, no fewer than four regional powers -- Israel, Syria, Saudi Arabia and Iraq -- would all want a say in Jordan's future, while the Bedouin elite might prefer to fight rather than submit to Palestinian dominance.
Whatever the outcome of the immediate crisis, the emotions it has unleashed are certain to have a lasting effect on Jordan. Analysts warn that the U.S. should not take the King's political survival for granted. It may be in America's long-term interests not to press him too hard to declare himself publicly, and to give Jordan some leeway in adhering to the boycott. "Jordan is finding it extremely difficult to balance conflicting pressures," says Susser. "I don't know whether Hussein will survive this, but I'll bet he can if the U.S. shows understanding of what he can and can't do."
The King looked drawn and weary as he boarded his plane to fly home. Reporters asked whether his visit to Kennebunkport had given him any reason for hope. "I suppose one has to have hope," he said softly. "Without hope you can't get anywhere." His best hope is that the parties to the conflict will somehow resolve their differences, and soon. For a man accustomed to survival by dint of his own maneuverings, it is an unnerving prospect.
With reporting by Dean Fischer/Cairo and James Wilde/Amman