Berkley Center

According to the average taxi driver in Amman, about 80 percent of Jordanians are actually of Palestinian descent. That’s a lot of people and what it means, more importantly, is that the average Jordanian is up in arms lately because of the closing of Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem—a unilateral decision that Israel undertook because of the increasing tensions since Eid al-Adha.

Last week when I visited Jerusalem, I was only able to see the Western Wall, a holy site for Jews to pray at. I didn’t see any Muslims praying and, perhaps more tellingly, I saw dozens of soldiers and policemen (and women!) around the area, surveilling for any possible problems. Israelis allege that Palestinians are violent.

Last week, while I was in Jerusalem, a teenager holding a knife ran at police (Palestinian bystanders assert that he was weaponless and was running after receiving a phone call) and was subsequently shot and killed in front of Damascus Gate, about an hour after I walked through it with my family. There was a crowd of Palestinians huddled in the middle of the small plaza, with soldiers controlling the flow of traffic in and out of the gate and television crews set up all around. When I asked a soldier what was happening, or what happened, his only response was “Yes, something was happening, but it’s over now.”

Last week, while I saw the aftermath of a shooting, some of my friends in Amman saw protests, especially those living close to the Israeli embassy. I haven’t heard of any violent riots exploding—thankfully Jordan is fairly stable at the moment—but I have spoken to individuals who don’t just fear that this is a third intifada (Palestinian revolt), but hope that it is. To them, an intifada is the only way to stop the expanding Israeli settlements on what is occupied land: “We need an intifada. There are no more options.”

How does a country, in which a vast majority of its citizens identify as Palestinian, politically handle diplomatic relations with Israel—especially when nearly all of its other neighbors are involved in wars or political instability? The government of Jordan has maintained a neutral, if not friendly, relationship with Israel, the reason for protests from Palestinian-Jordanians (or most Jordanians, since the conflict has enveloped the Arab world). How does a government serve its people’s desires while also keeping stability? For Jordan to forsake Israel means that Jordan would be surrounded by unstable regimes on nearly all sides. Saudi Arabia is Jordan’s most steady neighbor, but the culture in Saudi Arabia seems farther from Jordan’s than even Israel. Furthermore, if Jordan publicly denounces Israel, many of Jordan’s future plans for water collaboration go down the drain; a country as water poor as Jordan can’t afford to let any possible water sharing agreements fall apart. And let’s not forget the part the United States—Israel’s staunchest ally—plays in all of this. Jordan certainly can’t afford to forego US aid or support. Instead, Jordan’s government is stuck between a rock and a hard place, destined to tread a narrow path full of hurdles in order to keep the country safe and keep its people happy.

There isn’t one “right” and one “wrong” side in the Israel-Palestine conflict. There have been problems on both sides, even if after a month and a half of living in Amman it’s much easier to sympathize with the Palestinians. Regardless, for many Jordanians, Palestine is a home—a home they have been denied access to and a home that they want back. Will there be a third intifada, will the protests in Jordan escalate? I hope not. The Middle East has seen enough violence. Will there be peace? As they say here, InshaAllah (God willing), but if religion continues to devour people as an obstinate ideology instead of as a set of values, morals, and a creed to live by, the future looks bleak.