Berkley Center

Both Jordanians and outsiders often describe the Hashemite Kingdom in relative terms. Jordan is seen as a beacon of stability in a region plagued by war and violence. Perhaps the starkest comparison is drawn between Jordan and its northern neighbor, Syria. The Jordanian relationship with Syria and the arrival of over a million Syrian refugees since the beginning of the Syrian Civil War (euphemistically referred to as the “events” in Arabic) remain contentious and complex political topics in Jordan. In the past weeks, however, the Syria issue has featured even more prominently in the national conversation. On October 15, 2018 the Nasib border crossing between Jordan and Syria was reopened for the first time since its closure in 2015. The decision was greeted with relief from Jordanians who rely on the crossing for commercial purposes. Many Jordanians are hopeful that the opening will encourage some Syrians refugees to return home and thus alleviate the perceived strain refugees have caused on the country. As evidenced in these responses, the war in Syria has taxed Jordan economically, socially, and politically in a myriad of ways.

Obviously, as a student and tourist, I have little direct exposure to most of these challenges. However, I have noticed the overwhelming tendency of Jordanians to extol the relative stability and security of the Hashemite Kingdom in order to allay the concerns of current or prospective tourists dismayed by media coverage of regional events. Through these statements, I have observed the consequences of a state defining itself largely in comparative terms. Furthermore, as a Jordanian visitor of Syrian heritage, I have at times felt wistful at these supposedly reassuring comparisons.

Typically, my last name betrays my Arab heritage. I am asked multiple times a week if my family is Jordanian. When I respond that my family is Syrian, the responses typically include some balance of sorrow, admiration, and reassurance. I often hear “Syria was so beautiful.” However, these same friendly and inquiring Jordanians often feel the need to reassure me or any other nearby eavesdroppers that although Syria and Jordan share a border and there is much to admire in the Syrian people, Jordan, unlike Syria, is a completely safe and stable country. In this way, the comparison is meant to convince me that studying and traveling around Jordan is a worthwhile and safe pursuit. I cannot fault my new Jordanian friends for these statements. The Jordanian economy relies heavily on tourism; Jordanians from all walks of life feel the need to mollify the fears of visitors intensely influenced by a Western media which paints the entire Middle East as an undifferentiated zone of danger and strife.

On a personal level, however, the comparison between Jordan and Syria—and the reassurance that one is not the other—takes on the quality of a lament. Growing up, I always wanted to visit my father’s home country of Syria. Visiting Syria was never feasible for a multitude of reasons. Perhaps this was naive, or worse, downright ignorant on my part, but I viewed coming to Jordan for the semester as the next best thing to visiting my family’s homeland. Thus, in a different way, I fell into the trap of viewing the Arab world as a monolith. For this reason, I have been surprised since my arrival to more regularly experience the assertion of contrast rather than the affirmation of solidarity from Jordanians.

One day last month, however, after an exhausting day of hiking Petra, I stopped at a small cart to purchase a bottle of water. I struck up a conversation with the man operating the cart. Impressed by my Arabic, this man refused to believe I was American. After a few minutes, I admitted to him that I had Syrian roots. He was intrigued and called over his friend. “He is from Syria!” the water salesman announced proudly about his friend. The friend told me that he was from Idlib, and we exchanged the exuberant pleasantries typical of the Arabic language. Walking back to the bus, I could not hide my pride, nor my relief. For the first time since my arrival in Jordan, I had a conversation with a Syrian about Syria. In this conversation, Syria was not defined in comparative terms nor by its politics, nor by its refugee population in Jordan. Syria was simply a place connecting the two of us.

Indeed, Jordan is not Syria. For better or worse, Jordan is Jordan, and Syria is Syria. I suppose comparison is a natural practice, but without context, it is at best unhelpful and at worst patronizing. As I embark on my last two months here in Jordan, I intend to appreciate Jordan for what it is rather than for what it is not. Yet, one day, inshallah, I will be able to appreciate Syria for what it is with my own eyes, not simply through the eyes of the friend of a water salesman at Petra.