Berkley Center

I am an American. I have an American passport, I was born to two American parents, and English is my first language. But I have a little bit of heritage in me, as my friends like to say. If you walked into my room, the first thing you would notice hanging on the top of my bulletin board is my “Proud to Be Syrian” sticker. A small Syrian flag stands among the pens in my pencil cup. Arabic children’s books line my bookshelf. My great-grandmother’s ragged Arabic Bible sits on my desk. Syrian history books are stacked on my bedside table. So, if you can’t tell by now, I am Syrian…and American.

Since I have the typical Arab features—big almond-shaped brown eyes, brown curly hair, and olive skin—when I am in the United States I am usually asked where my family is from. I proudly answer Syria. Now that I am studying in Amman, Jordan, the question remains the same. But I proudly answer America.

On a few occasions, taxi drivers, shop owners, or Jordanian students have mistaken me for a fellow Arab. Professors get excited when my Arab last name is first on the attendance sheet, and my friends are thrilled to go to restaurants so I can order a “mezzeh” of the typical Middle Eastern food.

So, in theory, I fit in. I have the look, the name, and the cultural background to be an Arab, but in reality in the Middle East, I am just as American as my roommate from Iowa.

Identity seems to be a defining issue in the Middle East. Who/what is an Arab? Merriam-Webster defines an Arab as “a member of the Arabic speaking people,” but asking somebody from Morocco, Egypt, Syria, Saudi Arabia, Yemen, or Algeria will likely result in six different answers, all of which will probably have nothing to do with speaking Arabic. Some Arabs consider themselves Muslims before anything else, while others consider nationality to be their principle identifier. Some identify themselves through their tribes, while others identify themselves through their country of origin.

Thus, the definition of Arab identity changes from person to person, based on how closely they relate to their tribe, religion, nationality, or ethnic origins.

Ethnically, Jordan is neither very diverse nor sectarian when compared to countries such as Syria or Lebanon. Since the 1948 Palestine War, however, the influx of Palestinian refugees into Jordan has tipped the balance of ethnicities in the country. Today, Palestinians account for more than half of Jordan’s population, and Jordan is currently home to almost half of the number of the total population of the Palestinian Territories.

As of January 2010, of the 2 million Palestinian refugees in Jordan, all but 167,000 have full Jordanian citizenship. Although Palestinians in Jordan have full citizenship (for the most part), their new passport does nothing to mitigate their sense of being Palestinian.

This ethnic mix is vitally important for both Jordanians and Palestinians when you consider that King Abdullah II is a Jordanian married to Queen Rania, a Palestinian. Their son, then, the future King of Jordan, is half Jordanian and half Palestinian, a mix of ethnicities, which may influence his future reign, especially since there have been recent intellectuals and politicians who would consider establishing Jordan as an “alternative” Palestine or the new Palestinian territory.

King Hussein, the previous king of Jordan, infamously made it clear with his statement in 1988 that “Jordan is not Palestine,” and his son King Abdullah II upholds that statement in his current rule. But those four words carry the baggage of a long and complex history that continues to weigh on current events.

“Let me put it this way, 'Let's say a couple owns a house and another couple comes to visit but they stay for 15 years. The other couple will still be considered guests in the house,” says one of my professors, a proud “pure” Jordanian as he likes to say. He is referring to the Palestinians who have fled to reside in Jordan since 1948. No matter how long they stay/reside in Jordan, they will be considered guests. But at what point (or will there even be a point?) will they no longer be guests? At what point will they too, be “pure” Jordanians?

Thus, even to Palestinian Jordanians, they are first and foremost Palestinian. The majority of the people with whom I interact on a daily basis, from my professors to cab drivers, from my landlords to the my Jordanian colleagues, the majority of them consider themselves Palestinians, even though they have only ever known Jordan to be their home. Their identity has little to do with their citizenship, but rather more to do with their heritage.

Currently, a large number of Palestinians have the education and business sense that has helped them achieve considerable economic status in Jordan. Their jobs range from engineers to government employees, from farmers to businessmen. Others, however, remain impoverished refugees, living in camps outside bigger cities.

No matter their social status in Jordan, however, the refugee identity is central to the Palestinian/Jordanian assimilation and is particularly so at this critical juncture, as the foundation and recognition of a separate Palestinian state is once again a very real possibility.