Bedouin Tribes of Jordan Rise to Power

Photo: A meeting of the southern Shaykhs, March 2006

February 10, 2011 - The short note on page A11 (“Jordanian tribes criticize the queen”, Globe and Mail, February 10, 2011) understated the significance of the tribes’ criticism of Queen Rania. It was not just the breaking of a taboo, but signaled a shift in geopolitics that could have much wider implications. At its heart, the joint statement, allegedly by the sheikhs of 36 tribes, was not about the Queen per se, but about land and power. His Majesty King Abdullah II was quick to angrily deny the accusations, to point out that the authors of the “joint statement” were not tribal leaders, just members of the 36 tribes, and to threaten the reporter with legal action. Nevertheless, the fact that such a statement could be written and published signals some kind of change, or at least the threat of it.

Since the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan shares dynastic ties with Iraq’s tribes (the former King Faisal was also a Hashemite), this issue extends far beyond Jordan’s borders. How far was shown during the first Gulf War. When Saddam Hussein’s army attacked Kuwait, Kuwaiti pastoralists had to flee with their livestock, but where? They could not legally cross into Saudi Arabia or Iraq, and Saddam had made it mandatory on pain of death for all adult males of Kuwait to join the Iraq army. But Kuwaiti Bedouins had tribal connection in Jordan, and the Iraq and Saudi tribes gave them safe passage as they walked across the 1000 km of desert. Although it was also illegal for them to enter Jordan, in 1990-1991 about 6000 Kuwaiti families brought 1.4 million sheep, goats and camels across the border. They followed ancient camel routes and watered at oases known only to the Bedouins, travelled at night, and hid in wadis during the day. When they arrived in Jordan, the local tribes, who were already squabbling among themselves over grazing rights, made room for the newcomers and their flocks.

Jordan is the eye in the storm of the Middle East. Like Canada, Jordan is a constitutional monarchy with a parliamentary government; the main difference is that in Jordan, the King can prorogue Parliament, while in Canada the Prime Minister has that power. Jordan is the closest Arab country to a democracy, the most open socially, the most peaceful, the most religiously pluralistic, and the most lawful. Jordan and Egypt are the only Arab states formally at peace with Israel. Too often, news about the Middle East that mentions “tribes” contains “lawless” in the same sentence. It’s true in Jordan that tribal law is strong and exists alongside government law, but that does not make it lawless. Tribal leaders in Jordan are struggling to adapt their laws and customs to the 21st century. The nomadic lifestyle is disappearing, leaving an economic and social vacuum.

Jordan and the other Arab states are governed by two parallel systems: constitutional laws and tribal laws and customs. These two systems come together in the person of King Abdullah II. All the tribes owe allegiance to the King, who in turn ensures the tribes’ financial and political security. But this is a two-edged sword: The tribes are more cognizant of their ancestral territories than modern country borders and often take their flocks into Syria, Iraq, or Saudi Arabia in search of pasture. Although illegal without export/import permits and fees, the authorities condone it. If the tribes’ loyalty to the King were to be somehow sundered, there would be nothing keeping them from offering their loyalty to other emirs.

Bedouin society is organized in a traditional family-clan-tribal hierarchy. Each evening, the clan chiefs get together with the sheikh and decide the affairs of the tribe. One of the routine decisions is: Which bright young men and women will be sent to Amman for education? The tribal elders know that they need representatives among the business leaders and politicians of the country. in 2002, I was out on the trackless desert, meeting with Bedouin elders wearing their flowing robes and headdresses in a tent that appeared to reek of poverty, when the chief’s son arrived in a brand new SUV. Individual families might not have money, but the tribe has money.

Much of their cash flow comes from the well-armed Badia (“Desert”) Force, whose members, recruited from the Bedouin tribes since the country was created, patrol the kingdom’s borders on camels. As well, many or most members of the army are Bedouin. Therefore, the tribes are linked to power not only through tribal loyalties, but through the military.

The Bedouin traditions are strong and their culture persists. They comprise about 40% of the country’s population. Outside of the cities, about 98% of the people identify themselves as “Bedu,” (French Bedouin: “people of the desert”) and identify with one of the 40 or so Jordanian tribes. Almost all have at least a few sheep or goats, while those better off still count their wealth in camels. More than 60% are semi-nomadic, spending at least a season away from their homes in search of pasture, and 5%–10% are fully nomadic, with no permanent homes. They have a deep attachment to the land and all whom I talked to in four years of working with them professed to love the lifestyle.

The tribes’ joint statement is itself historic. They live in villages mostly deserted in summer as they wander with their flocks in search of grass across vast stretches of desert, and some of the tribes are traditional enemies. In 2006, to plan a country-wide rangeland restoration project, I helped organize two meetings, one with the sheikhs of all the northern tribes of Jordan, and one with all the southern sheikhs. During the meetings, the enmity between certain of the sheikhs was palpable. My boss, a member of the Higher Council for Science and Technology, commented, during the obligate feast that followed, “this is a historic meeting, you know. Some of these sheikhs have never met each other and never have they all met together.”

The joint statement came at a moment when the regimes in Egypt and Tunisia had fallen and there were demonstrations in half a dozen other Arab and North African countries. To forestall foment in Jordan, the King had already announced constitutional and other reforms, and soon after he charged Parliament with implementing them.

Their beef with Queen Rania—whose family is from Palestine—is more about her humanitarian support for Palestinians in Jordan than with her alleged lavish lifestyle. One of the ways that the King has sought tribes’ loyalty is apportioning seats in Parliament partly by land, rather than by population, with the result that the tribes’ representatives currently control parliament. This gives them not only the usual perks and power of politicians, but more important to them, the power to regulate affairs critical to their communities, such as land and water rights. But between 2005 and 2010 the Queen's office has helped many Palestinians obtain Jordanian citizenship (the Joint Statement gave a number that the subsequent Royal statement said was wrong); as well (or as a result), Palestinian businessmen are gaining an increasing share of the economy. Jordanian tribes feel threatened, not only by the Palestinians, but since 2003 by the huge influx of Iraqi refugees and other immigrants. If the tribes were to lose faith with the Jordanian monarch, the political consequences in the Middle East would be enormous.

Independence of South Sudan

January 11, 2011 - In our euphoria over the emerging independence of South Sudan, we should not forget that European countries caused Sudan’s grief to begin with; and that southern Sudan has many natural resources besides oil that, if well managed, can help the people recover. The roots of this crisis are in the Ottoman, French, Belgian and British colonial enslavement in the 19th Century, and in misguided international aid efforts that began in the 1960s. Prior to these western interventions, the northern nomads moved their flocks with the seasons in a relationship with their dry environment that had been stable for at least five millennia. They herded sheep and goats and used camels for transport, since their semi-desert environment would not support the cattle and farming economy of the southern tribes, who lived in a moister environment of grassland and shrub forest. The colonial masters forced southern farmers to move north and to settle around water sources that had formerly been the seasonal domain of the nomads. Their livestock overgrazed the land around these oases forcing the nomads into more marginal environments. After independence in 1956, mis-guided aid agencies drilled wells to ease poverty and encourage farming, further disrupting the pastoral patterns and causing large-scale desertification and loss of wildlife habitat. This resulted in repeated famines in various parts of the Sahel since 1968. The famines of 1973–1975 and 1984 were especially severe and burned into our minds the plight of starving people in Ethiopia, Eritrea, Sudan, Biafra (now returned to Nigeria) and other Sahelian countries. Climate change that began to be felt in the 1980s made it worse. The connection with climate change has been known for more than two decades and was discovered by Canadian wildlife biologists. But Southern Sudan still has its grasslands, shrub forests, swamplands and water sources to support the tribal societies that are still largely intact. After the peace treaty in 2005, wildlife biologists re-discovered massive wildlife migrations rivalling anything anywhere else in the world, including over 753,000 white-eared kobs, over 278,600 Mongalla gazelles and 155,460 tiang antelopes, even a few elephants—together more than 1.2 million big game animals. This is an ecotourism gold mine that, if well managed, would help the people rebuild their lives and societies

Canada's Failures in Middle East Policy

Photo: Al Hussein Mosque, in the souk, Amman

January 28, 2011 - In all the commentary following Canada's recent Middle East debacles, the failure to secure a UN Security Council seat and our military getting kicked out of the United Arab Emirates, commentators and politicians have failed to find the causes. It is not just our policies and actions that arouse enmity, but also official government statements, especially those of Prime Minister Stephen Harper.

Now, with demonstrations spreading through Arab capitols, we should take closer cognizance of the Middle East view of Canada. Make no mistake, Canada’s position is known on the Arab street, and it matters.

Working in Jordan in 2002, before the latest Gulf War, through 2006, I had a chance to hear and feel the changing attitude of Jordanians towards Canada. From what I read in the newspapers, Jordanians’ view of Canada is representative of the Gulf States generally. In 2002, on the street, seeing my Canadian flag bag tag, people called out a friendly “Hey Canadi!” I learned enough Arabic to introduce myself and always added, “...from Canada.” This never failed to start a conversation.
I was close enough to the seat of power to have a UN security badge that identified me as a representative of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan. I regularly met with government Ministers, and among my close colleagues was a member of the royal family. In 2002, wherever I went, whether in the boardrooms of Amman, the souks of date-palm shaded villages, or sitting on colourful carpets in Bedouins’ goathair tents far out on the desert, they asked me the same thing: “Will America attack us?”
America, of course, had already attacked Afghanistan, and in 2002 was sabre-rattling against Iraq. “Us” meant Arabs; Muslims. Jordan’s monarch is a Hashemite, as was the former King Faisal of Iraq. The countries’ Bedouin tribes are blood relatives, their history is intertwined, and their ruling elites are Sunni Muslims. Canada was well-known, even to the tea-boys and street vendors, as a country of peace, a counter-point to our aggressive neighbour, America.

In 2002, I lived in a hotel a long mile from our office. I enjoyed the walk, picking up some fruit, dates and nuts for lunch each day on the way to work, and falafels or a shwarma on the way back in the evening, stopping along the way to look at wares in the shops and chat with the police who guarded every villa and government office. That fall, the terrorist Abu Musab al Zarqawi was indicted for the murder of an American diplomat in Amman, but I felt safe: I’m Canadian.

Sadly, our reputation had changed for the worse by 2003 and has gone downhill ever since. The first big drop from grace was when we sent troops to Afghanistan, prompting Osama bin Laden to put Canada on the list of countries, the citizens of which should be killed in the name of God. Bin Laden’s enmity with America-supported Gulf State dictators resonates with mainstream Arabs, even though most decry his methods and abhor violence. In 2002, my environmental work took me and my Jordani colleagues—ecologists—all over Jordan, right up to the Syrian, Iraqi, Saudi, and Israeli borders. We drove out alone in a rented 4x4, wherever and whenever we wanted. In 2003, with the Iraq war raging, we never went anywhere without armed guards that, outside of Amman, consisted of two soldiers in a pickup truck with a .50 calibre machine gun in the back. We needed permits and an itinerary approved by two Ministries, who sent an advance emissary to all the Bedouin tribes saying that the strangers were not to be molested. We stopped at each military command posts to have a de rigueur tea with the commandant to explain our scientific mission, even though he had been briefed.

By 2006, when my wife and I had an apartment in Amman, our personal feeling of safety and camaraderie with the locals had largely vanished. We felt eyes staring at us. No one called out “Hey Canadi” in the souks. Being Canadian was no longer a plus.

In August 2005, terrorists had fired a rocket at a US warship in Jordan’s Gulf of Aqaba, missed their target, and hit a ferry, killing one Jordanian. In November, bombs simultaneously ripped through three hotels frequented by foreigners, killing 57. My wife and I daily walked to work and back—our client, a high-level Crown agency Director, repeatedly urged us to take a taxi—past a court house where the trial of the alleged hotel bombers was taking place. The lawyers and others who were chatting outside the building seemed to scowl at us: foreigners, Canadian, American, all the same. The big change, even from 2003 had, I believe, a lot to do with Stephen Harper’s continual pro-Israeli/anti-Palestinian statements, first as Leader of the Opposition, and from early 2006 on, as Prime Minister.

These comments are noticed in the Arab world. We read about them in the Jordanian Times newspaper, and heard them on BBC, Al-Jazeera and Al-Arribiya television news. They don’t make us any friends. They reveal our government as biased against Arabs and Muslims, and our leader as being not well informed on the background and history of the region.

It therefore came as a surprise to me last summer to read that Canada would dare to seek a seat on the UN Security Council, which Gulf States and their allies would surely, and did, defeat. The United Arab Emirates’ expulsion of Canada’s air base, used in the war against Afghanistan, although it caught our bureaucrats and politicians by surprise, was a logical consequence of Canada’s continual acerbic comments about issues important to Arabs. Nor have we learned: just yesterday (January 27), www.thestar.com reported that “The United Arab Emirates’ top diplomat says he’s been ‘insulted’ by Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s war of words aimed at his country”.

Demonstrations are spreading through Arab capitols. Even in the Amman neighbourhood where my wife and I once strolled and bought pastries from friendly vendors, 3,000 marched today changing “We want change.” This is a critical time for the region, and it matters what our leaders say. Canada should follow the advice of Walt Disney’s cartoon rabbit Thumper: “If you can’t say somethin’ nice, don’t say nuthin’ at all.”