Jordan waits nervously as vultures circle

AS THE solemn procession of world leaders walked past the body of King Hussein yesterday, many must have remembered they had attended a similar ceremony 60 miles away across the Jordan river in Jerusalem just over three years ago.

It is an ominous precedent. In 1995, it was King Hussein himself who was among the leading mourners to stand by the coffin of Yitzhak Rabin, the assassinated Israeli prime minister. Yesterday it was his turn to receive the same tributes to a "visionary and peace-maker".

One Jordanian said nervously that he hoped King Hussein's political legacy would last longer than Mr Rabin's.

Six months after the latter's death, Israelis chose Benjamin Netanyahu - a man Mr Rabin detested - to be premier and elected a parliament opposed to peace terms with the Palestinians that Mr Rabin had signed.

People in Jordan were flattered by the sight of President Bill Clinton and three former United States leaders at their king's funeral, along with President Boris Yeltsin of Russia and a host of world figures.

In the longer term, however, Jordanians have an acute sense of the vulnerability of their country. While cameras zoomed in on weeping mourners, the real mood is of anxiety about the future as much as grief for the dead monarch.

Jordanians understand that King Hussein never had much room to manoeuvre. He ruled a small country surrounded by more powerful neighbours. When asked once why he had grown a beard, he replied: "I grew it because it's one of the few decisions I can take without having to ask somebody else if it's OK to go ahead."

His ceaseless diplomatic activity stemmed from this position of weakness. He needed to insert himself into every problem in the Middle East, win for Jordan an influence it could not command through its own strength, and prevent his country becoming the victim of events it could not control.

His dilemma was the same as that of Yasser Arafat, although the king escaped the Palestinian leader's reputation for untrustworthiness. Neither had many political cards in his hand. Both balanced uneasily between the needs of their own people and the demands of outside powers. Both switched alliances repeatedly. They cultivated the US, but tried to avoid becoming its pawn. Neither was entirely successful.

The King sought to hold the line between Arab nationalism and the need to conciliate Israel and keep the US friendly. It was ultimately a defensive policy. He needed to ensure that Jordan was not cut out of Israeli-Palestinian negotiations, but not to the point where Palestinians thought he was presenting himself as their sole leader.

His ambivalent policies were not only the result of the ever-present threats facing Jordan from Israel, Iraq, Syria and Saudi Arabia. About 60 per cent of its population is of Palestinian origin. Some years ago, an academic survey found that Palestinians resented the fact that citizens of Jordanian stock controlled most government jobs and all sensitive military and security posts. They felt under-represented and discriminated against.

Jordanians, meanwhile, resent Palestinian control of business. They fear a further influx of Palestinian refugees, following the 350,000 expelled from Kuwait who came to Jordan in 1991. They see Palestinians with Jordanian citizenship as ungrateful and having dual loyalty to Jordan and the Palestinian leadership.

In Jordan, every change in its complicated relations with its neighbours has the potential to create a crisis between its two main population groups.

There is a further problem. Broadcasts yesterday stressed that King Hussein was much loved by his people. This is true. But the commentators forbore to mention that his popularity was at its peak in 1991 when he maintained a friendly neutrality towards President Saddam Hussein of Iraq during the Gulf War. Official policy and the popular mood were for once at one.

It could not last. Jordan was diplomatically isolated. The US president, George Bush, would not even see King Hussein. James Baker, the then secretary of state, told the monarch: "It's a tough row to hoe to repair Jordan's relationship with the United States."

In fact it was repaired more quickly than he thought. The US needed Jordan to deal with Israel and the Palestinians. King Hussein signed a peace treaty with Israel in 1994. A year later, he broke definitively with Saddam. He felt, rightly, that he had no choice. But neither move was popular at home. The treaty with Israel was commonly called "the King's peace" and was seen as an Arab defeat.

An anti-Iraqi and pro-Israeli policy abroad meant less tolerance of dissent at home. In 1989, the King had granted greater freedom of expression and more democracy. From the mid-1990s, these policies went into reverse. In the past two years, a stringent press law and government ownership of part of the media have resulted in many Jordanians turning again to foreign broadcasts for their information.

King Hussein could get away with veering between democracy and repression - mild though it was by regional standards - because Jordanians believed at heart that he knew what he was about. He was personally moderate and skilful at conciliating enemies. It is by no means clear that his son, King Abdullah, will have such leeway to conduct such an unpopular foreign policy.

Jordan sees itself as surrounded by vultures, with those from Israel and Iraq considered the most predatory. Yesterday, these powerful neighbours were on their best behaviour. But both are quick to sense political weakness and equally merciless in exploiting it.