By Natheer Aldalala'a

* The public anger which was initially viewed as the driving force behind the legitimate demands has evaporated. The concept of the ‘Public’ has in fact diminished, while the concept of ‘Anger’ has remained the modus operandi.


Perhaps a little provocatively, I would like to argue that the ‘Arab Spring’ is diminishing because protestors went far beyond their legitimate demands. Any attack on the state where there is parliamentary representation of some form, undermines the rule of law, and creates a space for criminal activities.

Protesting against economic and social injustice is, of course, legitimate and reasonable, as long as the voice of protest remains within a peaceful and guarded frame. The uprising in Egypt for the most part followed a peaceful path, and was supported by many people, not only in Egypt, but across the Arab world who felt associated with the protest, or sympathised with the central concerns of that movement. I also argue that the attacks on protestors by authorities work to disqualify and revoke the legitimacy of the relationship between the state and its citizens, especially in cases where parliamentary representation is operational. In many Arab states this was the case, the lines on both sides were crossed and thus, the lack of common ground is lost. Terms such as ‘Arab Spring’ and ‘Public Anger’ have lost their essence owing to the lack of creditable organisations through which the protestors can sustain the justifiable drive for reforms, and owing to the lack of genuine desire by governments to respond to the demands of the masses.

However, this article is dedicated to highlighting how protestors in Jordan did not mobilise their demands through a specific agenda, and how their continuing numerous (and ever increasing) sit-ins, marches, and in some cases the outlandish erecting of tents, has undermined the legitimate rights of these protestors. To elaborate on the claims I am making here, I provide an overview of the concept of the ‘Arab Spring’, and then offer a further explanation to illustrate my point.

Following the awakening of what became termed as the ‘Arab Spring’, uprisings or semi-revolutions swept across the Arab world indicating a fundamental change in the whole landscape of Arab politics. The embryonic moment may be located as December 2010 in Tunisia when a man burned himself to death. This resulted in mass demonstrations and lead to the ousting of former president Bin Ali in January 2011. This was, notably, followed by the success of the Egyptian uprising, which also led to the overthrow of its president, Mubarak, in February 2011. The victories of those popular protests in Tunisia and Egypt fuelled the hopeful desire, albeit with different mechanisms, for change across the Arab world - in Bahrain, Yemen, Syria, Jordan, Algeria, Morocco, and most importantly in Libya. A new concept dominated the news and became a symbol of hope: that is, the ‘Arab Spring’. Embedded within this concept is a dynamic which may be usefully termed as public anger.

The ‘Arab Spring’ is defined as a movement by the masses through peaceful means. It is a vehicle for protest, to voice, and to object to certain economic and social problems, primarily economic hardships, social injustice, and the widening gap between rich and poor. Yet, this ‘Spring’ seems to have plunged into gloom and its twilight is approaching. The intensity of the Tahrir Square protests, the way they were organised, and in particular, the availability of leadership from the youth population have played a major role in shaping and executing the outcomes of that uprising. The imprisonment of Wael Ghonim, and his subsequent interview on TV screens was played out as a romantic catalyst for the uprising. The personality and actions of Ghonim represented in effect the hearts of many aspiring Arab youths seeking change through peaceful means. The fashion in which events unfolded in Egypt was associated with Facebook, Twitter, and instant messaging. Ghonim’s Facebook page galvanised dissent and inspired a sense of belonging not only amongst Egyptians but in the wider Arab world. The events in Egypt generated a sense that protests belonged to “us all”, and especially to all Arab youths who dreamt of democratic changes, of reforms, and of restoring dignity to the ordinary Arab on the streets of any Arab city.

The term ‘Spring’ was attached to that of peace. Despite the fact that there were crackdowns on the protestors in both Tunisia and in Egypt, the notion of ‘Spring’ still carried the suggestion of a peaceful, harmonious end to all this. Tahrir Square, during the protesting period, became the centre of cultural activities: actors, poets, university professors, religious figures joined the uprising. Also, Muslims and Coptic Christians joined the prayers in the square with a single voice, a united demand that dignity be restored to the people, which in turn was a dignified call for justice. The message of the protestors was clear: they demanded freedom and justice which automatically invoked the rule of law. The case in Tunisia and Egypt indicated that there was no such “rule of law”. The populations of these two countries had been held hostage by the rule of the state of emergency for decades. The case applies to Syria, to Libya to lesser extent. However, other Arab protesting hubs differ in relationship to the State, and to other protesting factions. The wane of the meaningful ‘Arab Spring’ began when the protesters themselves miscalculated the very essence of their protests and the goal behind their demands. In Bahrain, the protestors were undecided about whether to call for the fall of the ruling monarchy, or to demand jobs for the unemployed. The sectarian nature of the demonstrating forces left them in-fighting rather than protesting. These protestors in Bahrain illustrated how such narrow demands lacked universality and sympathy and their demands quickly travelled a path from those of a social and economic nature towards that of religious one. This process could have left the ground especially fertile for carnage owing to the local and regional religious structures.

In Algeria protestors were swiftly cracked down on by the police, and with the start of demonstrations in Libya, the Algerians and Moroccans became spectators waiting for the ‘big thing’ to happen. While the situation remains a stalemate in Libya, their neighbours to the West wait to see what happens, as the outcome of the situation in there will influence any future action in neighbouring countries. In Yemen, immediately following the start of students protests in Sanaa, Saleh announced that he would not seek a new term in office, and he would not hand over power to his son. He stated, “no extension, no inheritance, no resetting the clock.” However, despite Saleh’s soothing measures of increasing the salaries of state employees and the armed forces, and ordering a 50% reduction in income tax, the control of basic commodity prices, and the release of prisoners who participated in the unrest, the protests continued but ultimately evolved into tribal rivalry. Not surprisingly, the uprising lost momentum when it turned tribal: Saleh was attacked and, to date, he is still in Saudi Arabia being treated, no new government has been appointed and no replacement of Saleh been made. Various explanations have been offered for this state of affairs, chief of which is that the blessing hand of America still hovers over Saleh. Thus, there is civil strife and a political stalemate, as in Libya – where there are no signs of Colonel Gaddafi being dislodged from power. The situation there has now escalated into a West-East confrontation which will allow for further division and future rivalry between the two, specifically after Ghaddafi’s eventual departure. Meanwhile, the appropriation of protest by religion sections in Bahrain, tribal conflicts in Yemen, and an East-West encounter in Libya, the ‘Arab Spring’, and what became termed as public anger is being undermined by the competing cries for representation.

Public anger became the catchphrase in Jordan, a country where parliamentary representation is fully operational. A government was sacked and a new one was appointed in an attempt to head off further public anger. The palace stated that the mission of the new government was to “take practical, quick and tangible steps to launch true political reforms, enhance Jordan’s democratic drive and ensure safe and decent living for all Jordanians.” In addition, the King’s decision to form a commission to “consider any constitutional amendments that are appropriate for the present and future of Jordan”, was a step forward to start the wheels of reform.

Amongst the members of that commission are the former prime minister Ahmed Al-Lozi, and Taher al-Masri, speaker of the senate and chairman of the National Dialogue Committee; Faisal al-Fayez, speaker of parliament; Fayez Tarawneh, a former prime minister; Rateb al-Wazni, president of the judicial council; Rajai Muasher, a former deputy prime minister; and former ministers Said al-Tal, Taher Hikmat, Marwan Dudin and Riad Shakaa. These are the key figures in the formation of the nation’s stable politics over several decades and they have an inclusive credibility amongst Jordanians. Furthermore, recommendations and suggestions to be made by this commission are intended to be submitted to the parliament for approval. The appointment of such a committee with its distinguished members should help to reinstate faith and hope on the street. Time is a determining factor in measuring reform and its impact at a wider and practical level, and time will also pronounce upon the sincerity of the intentions and objectives of both protestors and government.

Once the demands were intensified for the Al-Bakhit government to be sacked, it was then established that protests opposed rather ‘a’ government- any government that comes could expect dismissive voices on the street. The voices from the house of the Parliament were different from which the government was given the confidence vote in March 2011. Public anger which had once been channelled into a collective, unanimous, and legitimate demand for reforms and justice was transformed into a more bizarre practice of opposition for its own sake.

This opposition was factionalised while spreading across the country to all domains of life; protestors’ weight grew weaker amidst compartmentalisation and regionalisation. The initial demand for an inclusive mode of justice has evolved into a plurality of claims specifying a limited and self-interested justice. Where the ‘Arab Spring’ meant achieving ‘change’ for all, and in the name of all, the fashion of the protests in Jordan is distinguished by its increasingly diffuse and factional nature, which is exercised by a host of variously named groups. One such dubbed itself “24 March”, “Thabahtuna”, “Jayeen: Movement for Change”, trade unions: and these are far too many, leftist parties, student movements, on top of that is the Islamic Action Front (IAF).

This name itself is suggestive of confrontation owing to recent political history. The word “Front” does not designate much in the way of a peaceful mode of action, and hence for this group, any role less than a leading one would be unbearable and unacceptable. It is easy to see how these conflicting factions actually hinder the possibility of an organised and coherent message with which to represent the welfare of the masses. The potential for an orchestrated protest is undermined on a daily basis by the contagion of ‘sit-ins’ which promote evermore narrow demands of one kind or another. The strategy of the sit-in is taken up by a diverse range of groups, from the students at a private university to those who claim land-rights, or, by those who demand less interference in the market price of olive oil.

One could argue that the government would actually be a beneficiary from this state of affairs, but in effect no one gains from the situation. The government is not allocated the space and time within which it could “do things” whereby is may judged and the public itself does not achieve anything other than the actual space in which to protest, which becomes an end in itself. An example of these bizarre modes of protests can be seen in the recent calls for a member of parliament to erect a tent in front of the Agence France Press (AFP) offices, to object to a report by the AFP that the King’s motorcade was attacked in Tafilah, in the south of Jordan. One can only wonder how such behaviour helps to combat corruption in the country, or how it may contribute to reducing unemployment.

Such redundant actions harm the very nature of Jordanian society and the overall image of Jordan, to itself and to the world. It is always the case that an organised and peaceful protest reflects a mature and civilised society which is governed by the rule of law, and maintained by its civil institutions. In Jordan, all parties have been undermined by violence. On April 15th, the salafis protested in Zarqa while carrying swords and knives. This was a blatant incitement to violence. On Friday July 15th the riot police reacted aggressively in their confrontation with protestors, an action which resulted in a high number of injuries on both sides and also to journalists covering the event. The consequence of this action and reaction is manifold: first of all, the notion of a collective voice has vanished. The various factions have no unity, even when they have similar concerns. The common ground upon which all parties, including the government, meet is lost and thus protests do not serve any consequential end.

This is evidenced by the state of tension in which the country now finds itself. The sporadic clashes and expressions of anger undermine all parties. Furthermore, voices of protest should be restrained while guarding the overall interest of Jordan. The means of violence, be it by protestors, or by government agents, cause a loss to Jordan as an entity.

Besides being harmful to domestic economic and social stabilities, the images of violence in Jordan on the TV screens, here and in Europe, works to destabilise national identity and it also undermines one of the country’s major revenues - tourism. The protracted and prolonged fashion of the sit-in, accompanied with the indecisiveness of the government about how to act on major issues, and how to respond to the demands of the protestors, creates a gap between the capacity to trust and the willingness to trust. So far, the ‘Spring’ seems to be turning into a gloomy season of violence and dispersed loyalties.

The public anger which was initially viewed as the driving force behind the legitimate demands has evaporated. The concept of the ‘Public’ has in fact diminished, while the concept of ‘Anger’ has remained the modus operandi.