TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/082790/0827012.000

Text File | 1992-08-28 | 8.6 KB | 183 lines

                                                                                THE GULF, Page 28

COVER STORIES

The Beleaguered Messenger


Squeezed by the conflicting demands of two old allies but well
versed in the art of survival, Jordan's King struggles to keep
his balance

By WILLIAM E. SMITH -- Reported by Dean Fischer/Cairo and James
Wilde/Amman


    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.