Top Quotes: “Voices of Jordan” — Rana Sweis
Introduction
“Bordered by Syria in the north, Iraq to the east, Saudi Arabia to the south, and Palestine and Israel to the west, Jordan sits in a tough and uncertain neighbourhood. And although most Jordanians are Arabs, there are also small communities of Circassians, Armenians, and Kurds. Since the 1950s, the population has increased tremendously — more than seven times over — because of natural growth and immigration resulting from conflicts in neighbouring countries.
Jordan is a Muslim-majority country, with over 90 per cent of the population following Sunni Islam while a small minority identify as Shia. Christians make up nearly 3 per cent of the country’s inhabitants, and are mostly Greek Orthodox or Catholic. There are also small numbers of Baha’is and Armenian Christians.”
“Jordan is just over the size of Scotland, and has a population of over 9 million people, nearly half of whom live in the capital, Amman. Much of even that figure comes from refugee influxes — well over half a million since the start of the Syrian conflict in 2011. While so many have entered Jordan to find a new life, others depart to seek a better one. Jamal Shultaf, a Jordanian, left his homeland behind as economic prospects were failing him. He wants a more hopeful future for his children. The country is largely economically dependent on its neighbourhood and as a result has sustained prolonged economic stagnation. In the wake of the Arab Spring, Jordan’s vital trade routes with Syria and Iraq were closed and regional instability turned some investors away.”
“In many parts of the country, joblessness amongst the youth feels like a social plague. It stems partly from a gap between the educational system and current job market requirements. The educational curricula are antiquated, and have hardly been reformed. They are government-led and unresponsive to the needs of a growing private sector. Similarly to other countries in the Middle East, Jordan suffers from a high rate of youth unemployment. More than 70 percent of the population is under thirty years old, and nearly a quarter of those are between the ages of fifteen and twenty-four.”
“In 2010, at the age of thirty-one, she became the country’s youngest member of parliament. She had won her seat partly because of a quota system promoting reserved gender-specific seats in the lower house. After serving for a full four-year term, the budding politician competed on equal footing with male candidates in the next election, and won.
During the Arab Spring, women were seen at protests in Jordan when the government temporarily scrapped an article in the Public Assembly Law requiring consent to hold rallies. They took to the streets to call for more personal rights — like the right of Jordanian women to pass on their citizenship to their non-Jordanian spouses and children.”
“I asked her why everyone comes to her office at
the same time, and she replied:
I feel that people in our society don’t know much about one another. Yes, we joke that outside of Amman people keep an eye on each other, that it’s a close-knit community, and they even meddle in other people’s business, but this is all changing with urbanization. People don’t know about the issues and problems affecting others anymore. Everyone thinks his or her problem is the most urgent. So I like that people are sitting with each other in this office. Many times individuals themselves conclude, ‘No, you know what, my problem is not a priority, my problem is not urgent.’ I like that I get them to see and feel that way. For them to come and listen to and witness the levels of injustice others are facing and the tough conditions they are enduring, that’s important to me. It increases empathy. Sometimes they help each other without my involvement. I only tell them to meet at my office. It forces people to be humble. Our society is accustomed to the idea that there are leaders and elites. When one of the elite has to wait outside like everyone else, he or she may feel that it’s unfair or that they are being marginalized, but the point is equality. So let the elites become aware of others and their problems. My office is open to all so they can get to know one another. I insist on that approach, even though it’s exhausting because people keep interrupting; they keep talking. But it’s okay, I am used to that.”
“Since 1993, voting in Jordan has largely been driven by individuals’ social standing rather than by their affiliation to a political party, a result of the country’s enshrined tribal history and the long period during which political parties were outlawed. In 2016, a new election law was passed with an emphasis on a more proportional system meant to improve and diversify representation in parliament. Despite widespread support for her work in the community, Wafa explained how the new process would take time. Tribal allegiances remain a powerful reality in Jordanian politics.
Sometimes tribes choose a woman to represent them because they think it will guarantee them a seat in parliament. ‘Our society is still patriarchal and tribal even in the political domain. Small tribes sometimes send a woman representative to run for parliament, but they still think it’s their domain,’ said Layla Naffa, project director at the Arab Women’s Organization.”
“Jordan is now one of eight countries in the Middle East and North Africa where more women than men attend university. Yet, their education is not yielding jobs. A disparity between male and female employment levels exists in several countries in the neighbourhood, but in Jordan it is higher than the regional average.”
“In Jordan, the king is authorized to approve amendments to the constitution, declare war, command the armed forces, and dissolve parliament. Although he also appoints the prime minister and members of the upper house of parliament, the lower house, in contrast, consists of 130 elected members, with fifteen seats reserved for women, nine for Christians and three for Circassian and Chechen minorities. In both assemblies, members serve four-year terms.”
The Refugee
“When the civil war began, many of the Syrians pouring over the border that I spoke to, like Iraqis and Palestinians before them, told me that they would be returning home as soon as the war ended. They waited, as their lives came to a juddering halt. But days turned to months, and then to years. As this brutal conflict enters its eighth year, thoughts of returning have evaporated for most. Navigating a dizzying humanitarian aid system, they sign up with the United Nations to officially be recognized as refugees instead. Some refugees register their children in schools, while adults continually learn new crafts and skills just to survive. Others are forced to work, sometimes illegally.
Chaotic and crime-ridden refugee camps have become idle and systematized, demonstrating the state of ambivalence and uncertainty that is becoming increasingly common with refugee displacements across the Middle East. Host countries prepare for short-term stays that end up stretching into years. I was impressed at the detailed planning that appears to have gone into Azraq [refugee camp,’ wrote Fabian Hamilton, UK parliamentarian and shadow minister for peace and disarma- ment, in an email to me when he visited Jordan in 2017 on an official mission. ‘The array of solar panels which ultimately aim to make the camp energy-independent; the bore holes which are tapping into water aquifers 500 metres below the surface to reduce dependence on water tankers delivering to the camp …
Months may have become years, but Amal has never forgotten her home. She was born and raised in Homs, the third largest city in Syria after Aleppo and Damascus. ‘I still think about my house in Syria.’ Amal, whose name means ‘hope’ in Arabic, slowly stirred a pot of thick black coffee on top of the propane heater and wistfully added, ‘I think about the life I had there.’
Once a diverse and industrial town, Homs became a stronghold for opposition groups against the Syrian government, which launched a massive assault on the city in May 2011. Prior to the war, this key agricultural town produced corn, wheat, cotton, fruit and vegetables and was home to Christians, Sunnis, and Alawites who all lived and worked together. Amal and her family lived through the bombardment and siege that left most of the city destroyed and thousands of its residents dead. In 2015, the government claimed victory after ousting the last remaining rebels, who evacuated the city.”
“According to a 2016 survey by the International Labour Organization (ILO), the number of child labourers in Jordan had doubled to nearly 70,000 since 2007 despite efforts to crack down on street peddlers and to enforce workplace regulations.”
“Many Syrian families send their children to work out of desperation, but also for fear that if the father or the adult in the family were caught working illegally, they would be deported back to Syria. At fourteen years old, Hamza risked being detained by police for working underage, but often Syrian refugee children would be released shortly after being taken to the police station.
Over 10 million Syrians have been displaced from their homes since the civil war began in March 2011, of whom more than 650,000 have registered with the UN Refugee Agency in Jordan. Amal and her family live in the northern town of Mafraq, close to the Syrian border and home to nearly 80,000 Syrians who fled the war. The town’s population has more than doubled with the new influx, straining the public school system and scarce water resources, further shelving any plans that aimed at ending the double shift school system. Typically, Jordanian children attend school in the morning, and Syrians in the afternoon.”
“By the time Amal arrived in Jordan, she had been internally displaced eight times since the war in Syria began, eight times in under two years. She entered the country carrying a small bag with undergarments for both of her sons, her own thin black wristwatch and a worn-out wallet. She was wearing a faded velvet robe with four diamond-shaped buttons and a zip. She still hangs it in her home behind the bedroom door as a reminder of the harrowing journey. In winter, she sometimes wears it.”
“Hope is perhaps the most powerful commodity in the Middle East. Around 82 per cent of Syrian refugees in Jordan are now living below the poverty line, including Amal and her family.”
The Bureaucrat
“The public sector makes up more than 40 percent of the labour force in Jordan. The system of employment goes back to the early years of the country’s formation when the ruling regime ensured support among elite groups and tribes through patronage in the public sector. It is precisely for this reason that reform in this sector is not only perceived as an economic issue but as a politically sensitive one as well. The country now has the largest public sector in the world proportionally to its population, according to a report published by the Jordanian government’s Economic and Social Council. The sector, the authors of the report conclude, is ‘inundated with red tape, low productivity, and waste (favouritism) that hinder the country’s competitiveness.’”
The Student
“A quarter of children in the Middle East and North African region are not enrolled in school or have fallen two grades behind.”
“Between 1980 and 2002, adult literacy rates for Jordanian women rose from 55 per cent to 86 per cent. Education in Jordan is compulsory from first grade to tenth grade.”
“In some Arab countries, including Jordan, the more educated the women are, the less of a chance they have of finding a job.”
“Because of the two-shift schedule, classes begin at 7 a.m. and end at noon, when classes begin for another batch of younger students. Lina’s lessons felt hurried: geometry and algebra, Islamic religion, science, and Arabic.”
