by Avi Shlaim
In the course of time King Hussein, now advancing into a stringy manhood, began to realize how unwelcome and how unfriendly were the jinns he had conjured… There were, of course, good arguments for the extinction of his monarchy and the absorption of Jordan in a wider Arab community: the State was unviable, the monarchy no longer commanded the loyalty of the majority, kings were out of date any way. Hashemite antecedents had lost their allure. Even the English, with their attachment to the regal and the nomadic, had lost interest in Jordan, and did not much care whether she sank, swam or blew the bubbles of desire. The Middle East surged with a yearning for unity and power, and to every Arab nationalist the useless little Jordanian monarchy seemed an irritating anachronism. The West, thwarted and divided by the Suez débâcle, was at the nadir of its prestige. Colonel Nasser, supported by the Russians, was rampant.32
The odds against the survival of the monarchy may have looked overwhelming but Hussein was not about to throw everything away. He was sustained by a firm belief in the manifest destiny of the Hashemite family that his grandfather had instilled in him. Nor did he stand alone in defence of the Hashemite regime. He received strong support and encouragement from his mother and uncle in what increasingly looked like a collective struggle for survival. Sharif Nasser persuaded his nephew to let him form a special Royal Guard contingent to safeguard the royal family.
Queen Zain, who had always seen the British as the protectors of the monarchy, worked behind the scenes to repair the damage of the Suez War. She extended a warm welcome to Charles Johnston, the new British ambassador, who found it extraordinarily difficult to establish any sort of close relationship with her son in the aftermath of Suez. In his memoirs, Johnston described Zain as a woman of charm, courage and considerable wit: ‘Listening to Her Majesty explaining the situation to me as she saw it, in her extremely outspoken and elegant Ottoman French, I had the impression all of a sudden that Britain and the West were not entirely friendless in the area.’33 Zain also played an important part in bringing about a rapprochement in Jordanian–Saudi relations, one based on a common recognition of the threat that fiery Arab nationalism posed to the conservative monarchies in the region. She prepared the ground for a meeting between her son and King Saud in Medina in mid January, at which the latter gave assurances of continuing financial support to the beleaguered monarchy. King Saud also offered to help Hussein in his efforts to rid his country of the influence of the Egyptian–communist agents.34 Hussein could now begin ‘the slow process of piecing together the fragments of his regime’.35
One factor that worked in favour of the palace was the division within the ranks of the government. The more radical among the ministers wanted to abolish the monarchy and turn Jordan into a republic, while the more moderate among them simply set their sights on moving Jordan closer to the radical Arab states and the Soviet Union. Nabulsi himself was all things to all men. He wasan opportunist rather than an extremist, a demagogue rather than an ideologue. But he was not strong enough to control the different factions within his cabinet or to give a consistent lead. He favoured political union with the radical Arab states in the long term, but his more immediate goal was to transform Jordan into a constitutional monarchy. ‘To this day,’ one observer has written, ‘the legacy of al-Nabulsi and the government he headed remains a symbol for both the best and the worst of Jordanian political life. To some, al-Nabulsi represents the promise of constitutional democracy and the rule of law; to others, al-Nabulsi is held up as the man who pandered to the jungle politics of the “Street” and nearly presided over the very dismemberment of the kingdom. There are, in fact, elements of truth in both characterizations, for al-Nabulsi was a complex and perhaps confused man.’36
Between January and April a series of clashes took place between Nabulsi and the king. The first was over the Eisenhower Doctrine, which was promulgated on 5 January and which aimed to fill the power vacuum created by the sharp decline of British and French influence. It offered American economic, political and military support to Middle Eastern states threatened by ‘International Communism’. The Eisenhower Doctrine was welcomed by the king but denounced by the Foreign Affairs Committee of parliament and categorically rejected by the prime minister. Other clashes were provoked by the permission Nabulsi granted for the publication of a communist newspaper and by his invitation to the Russian news agency TASS to open an office in Amman. Hussein picked up Nabulsi’s alleged sympathy for communism as the defining issue in the struggle between them. On 2 February, Hussein wrote a letter to Nabulsi and immediately issued it to the press. In it he spoke with great passion and intensity about his opposition to communism, warned against the dangers of communist infiltration and served notice of his determination to preserve Jordan’s independence. The royal ‘we’ rang loudly throughout the letter:
Imperialism, which is about to die in the Arab East, will be replaced by a new kind of imperialism. If we are enslaved by this, we shall never be able to escape or overthrow it. We perceive the danger of Communist infiltration within our Arab home as well as the danger of those who pretend to be Arab nationalists while they have nothing to do with Arabism. Our ranks must be free from corruption and intrigues. We will never allow our country to be the field for a cold war which may turn to a destructive hot war if the Arabs permit others to infiltrate their ranks. We firmly believe in the right of this country to live. Its foundations must be strong and built on the glories of the past and the hopes of the future. No gap must be left to allow the propaganda of Communism to ruin our country. These are our views which we convey to your Excellency as a citizen and as our Prime Minister.
The following day Nabulsi, Rimawi and Abu Nuwar asked for an audience with the king and tried to persuade him to tone down his letter. ‘Absolutely not!’ he replied. ‘What I wrote is a directive on policy, not only for this Government but for any that follow.’37 The sting in the tail was not lost on the protesters, but the real purpose of the long missive was to attract Washington’s attention. And in this respect the private-public letter met with instant success. The report from the US Embassy in Amman hailed the directive as the most important Jordanian political event in the previous few months, adding that it ‘publicly established his opposition to Communism and to alignment with the Western Camp’, and that in view of ‘rapidly expanded Egyptian-Syrian-Communist influence here King’s action involves him in critical battle with leftist elements which could result in loss of throne’. Dulles instructed the ambassador in Amman to inform the king that ‘we are highly gratified at his recent public action in pointing out Communist menace.’ Lester Mallory, who had previously opposed additional aid to Jordan, now recommended that aid be granted if the king requested it under the Eisenhower Doctrine. The reason for the change was that ‘The battle is now joined. At least one champion is in the lists in [the] person [of] King Hussein.’38
The royal assurances regarding Saudi financial backing and the prospect of American aid gave Hussein the confidence to proceed with the revision of the contractual relationship with Britain. The negotiations were conducted by the government, not by the palace. Both sides recognized that the treaty had outlived its usefulness. In the words of the British ambassador, ‘The Treaty régime sickened, lingered, sickened again and finally died when Glubb Pasha was expelled in March 1956. The agreed termination of the Treaty a year later was merely the delayed burial of a corpse.’39 The agreement terminating the 1948 Anglo-Jordanian treaty was signed by the British ambassador and the Jordanian prime minister in Amman on 13 March. In order to rid itself of a costly and largely obsolete commitment, Britain offered Jordan reasonable terms, and the two sides parted more or less amicably. The British were clearly demob happy. Jordanian conservatives, on the other hand, began to criticize Britain for leaving their country so soon. An unexpected new variation on the old anti-British theme was ‘Beastly imperialists, don’t go home.’ The British ambassador confessed in his memoirs that his side took advantage of the Arab aid agreement t
o extricate itself from its obligations, although it was obvious that Arab aid would not materialize on anything like the scale promised, if at all. The Jordanian government was left in the lurch. Its financial reserves were sufficient to pay the army until June or July but no longer. After that he expected chaos and confusion to follow and he was greatly relieved when this did not happen.40
Nabulsi and his left-wing colleagues had no such scruples. They claimed all the credit for liberating the country from the shackles of imperialism and sought to exploit their success in order to press further demands upon the king. Beyond disputes over specific issues, the king reached the conclusion that the programme of the government was incompatible with the survival of Hashemite rule over an independent kingdom of Jordan. He also began to suspect that he was the object of a conspiracy that involved extremist ministers, several senior officers in the army, Syria, Egypt and the Soviet Union. The major reform desired by the clique in power, it seemed to him, was to abolish the monarchy. Powerful propaganda, according to his account, spread the anti-royalist movement to left-wing sections of the army. Bribes were distributed lavishly, and the Soviets were promising arms to the army ‘once the traitor Hussein has gone’. Soviet and Egyptian agents infiltrated the army and directed key men, including the chief of staff, who had been Hussein’s close friend. Hussein received reports that Abu Nuwar was making regular visits to Damascus and holding meetings with the Soviet military attache there. It was also reported that Rimawi and other ministers were driving to Damascus at night, especially after important cabinet meetings, and returning with suitcases full of money for themselves and to use as bribes.41 No doubt some of these reports were inflated, and embellished further by Hussein in the retelling. Nevertheless, in the unhappy spring of 1957, the fate of the monarchy seemed to be hanging in the balance.
7
A Royal Coup
The year 1957 was critical in the reign of King Hussein. It was one of mounting internal opposition to the Hashemite monarchy and to Hussein himself. Nabulsi and his colleagues in the National Socialist Party saw Nasser as the stronger horse, and they backed him in the race against their own king. The Free Officers had pro-Nasser or pro-Syrian leanings, and some thought they could ease out the king by tactics of intimidation. Jordanian politics became polarized as both sides prepared for the inevitable crisis. The king began to gather support from the loyalists and the royalists on the right-wing of the political spectrum. He reckoned that in any showdown with the opposition, Ali Abu Nuwar’s support would be crucial, but he was no longer confident that he would get it. So he pursued a strategy of improving his hold on the army and increasing the pressure on the government but without bringing matters to a head. Meanwhile, under the influence of Abdullah Rimawi, Nabulsi was abandoning his centrist position and veering sharply towards communism. His triumph over the termination of the treaty with Britain went to his head: he came to see himself as indispensable and his behaviour became increasingly confrontational. The American ambassador reported that Nabulsi ‘continues to build demagogic straw men and then claims that he had to march with them’. Nabulsi seemed intent on destroying Jordan as presently constituted and throwing out the king in favour of a still undefined federation with Syria and Egypt. The king seemed determined to change the government as soon as possible, but he was uncertain how to bring this about. The ambassador concluded that the probability of some sort of a coup de palais was growing.1
In the event, the trial of strength was initiated by the government rather than the palace. On 2 April 1957 the government decided to establish diplomatic relations with the USSR. Moscow’s strong support for Egypt against the tripartite aggression at Suez increased its popularity in the Arab world. Staunchly anti-communist as he was, the king let this decision stand so as not to bring matters to a head. The government concluded that they had the king on the run and pressed their advantage further. On 7 April the government presented the king with a list of royalist officials to be retired from the government. Dictating to the king whom he should dismiss was a way of weakening and isolating him. The list included the stalwart pro-monarchist Bahjat Tabbara, the director of the public security. The king reluctantly agreed to retire Tabbara and to replace him with Mahmud al-Ma’ayta, a Free Officer. At this point the government overplayed its hand. Subsequent evidence suggested to the British ambassador that this degree of haste was not because of any special pressure from Russia or Egypt but because of the faulty judgement of Rimawi, ‘the most dynamic member of the government and its evil genius’. Rimawi developed close relations with Abu Nuwar, who came to share some of his Ba’thist ideas. But, again in the opinion of the British ambassador, Abu Nuwar was ‘an opportunist without stability of character or principles’, and even his associates in the Nabulsi government did not seem to trust him altogether.2
On 8 April a strange incident took place. The First Armoured Car Regiment, which was based in Zarqa, fifteen miles north of Amman, took up positions outside the queen mother’s palace and at other key points on the outskirts of the capital. The regiment was commanded by Captain Natheer Rasheed, who was a Free Officer, but it was made up mostly of Bedouin troops who were fiercely loyal to the monarchy. The exercise was named ‘Operation Hashim’ as a tribute to the royal family. Rasheed claimed later that the operation was connected with a contingency plan to move troops from the East Bank to the West Bank in the event of an Israeli invasion. It is hard to interpret it, however, as anything but a tactic to intimidate the king. Old-guard royalists, including Bahjat Talhouni and Sharif Nasser, used the manoeuvre to warn the king of an impending coup against him.3 In his memoirs, the king stated that when he heard the news, he was thunderstruck: ‘This could only mean one thing – imminent danger to Jordan, a possible attack on the Palace. Certainly it indicated that Abu Nuwar was plotting a military coup.’4 Hussein immediately summoned the chief of staff and demanded an explanation. Abu Nuwar told him that it was an operation to check the vehicles entering and leaving Amman. Hussein suggested withdrawing the armoured cars back to their barracks; Abu Nuwar readily agreed and left the room to carry out the order. In the British ambassador’s retrospective judgement this incident seemed to represent ‘a half-baked attempt by the Government’s supporters in the Army to put pressure on the King, possibly already with the intention of forcing him to abdicate’.5 At the time, however, Hussein was full of forebodings. ‘Now I was alone,’ he wrote. ‘Hour by hour the situation was deteriorating. I had few friends to help me and a Government openly hostile to me.’ The following day the armoured cars were withdrawn, but he knew that this might be only a respite.6
On 10 April the cabinet decided to dismiss another twenty-five officials, most trusted servants of the monarchy. The list included Bahjat Talhouni, the chief of the royal court and Hussein’s right-hand man. For the king, this was the last straw; the time for action had come. By challenging so overtly the royal prerogative, the cabinet provided him with the perfect pretext to carry out the coup that he had been planning for some time. In the afternoon of the same day the king sent Talhouni to the cabinet with a written request for their resignations. Confident of their command of the situation and of their popular support in the country, Nabulsi and his colleagues complied. Had they not done so, Talhouni would have given them another letter in which they were dismissed outright. A few hours later Nabulsi arrived at the palace to tender his resignation. He was convinced that the king would be compelled to recall him on his own terms. The following three weeks were the most crucial period in the history of the modern Hashemite monarchy.7
Hussein had carried out his coup, but the situation remained dangerous and full of uncertainty. After all, he had just forced the resignation of the first democratically elected government in the country’s history because he disagreed with its policies. This did not make him popular in the country. ‘The mob was testy, touchy and trigger-happy. The King never moved without a picked Bedouin escort, fierce and festooned. Jordan was on the very brink of a rev
olution, and many a political pundit picked up his newspaper that spring, stifled a nostalgic tear, sadly recalled an anecdote about Abdullah, and washed his hands of Jordan.’8
That evening Hussein’s uncle, Sharif Nasser bin Jamil, came to see him with other members of their family. Sharif Nasser was very worried about the grave turn of events, even though he did not know how close they were to a military revolt. The only two options he saw were abdication or fighting for survival. ‘I hate to say this to you, sir,’ he said, ‘but everything seems to be lost and the rumours and reports indicate that you are alone. Are you going to stand and fight or should we all pack our bags? Don’t you think we ought to think about our families and their future and try to move them out of harm’s way?’ ‘I can’t,’ Hussein told his uncle and the other family members. ‘I have to stay. You know I believe in what I am doing.’ The reason given by Hussein for this stand was that he understood the people of Jordan, trusted them and believed that when the crucial moment arrived he and his family would not necessarily lose. ‘No,’ he said to his uncle, ‘I cannot leave. You know that I believe in serving my country. I am going to stand and fight, whatever the consequences.’9
Hussein was not in fact as isolated as he made out in his over-dramatized and transparently self-glorifying reconstruction of events. He had the backing of two foreign powers, America and Saudi Arabia. And dismissing a popular, democratically elected government is a strange way of serving one’s country. In any case, the episode marked the end of Jordan’s dalliance with Egypt and Syria and the beginning of closer cooperation with Saudi Arabia, where dynastic interests also reigned supreme. The Jordanian monarch was now free to take his place in what one British official termed ‘the Monarchistic Trade Union’.10 Saudi-Jordanian antagonism went back to Abd al-Aziz ibn Saud, the founder of Saudi Arabia who had defeated King Hussein of the Hijaz and forced him into exile. For the Hashemites this was the dynasty that had taken away their birth-right and their patrimony, and the antagonism between the two dynasties was therefore deep and bitter. Ibn Saud, however, died in 1953 and was succeeded by his son Saud ibn Abd al-Aziz. With new rulers in both countries it proved possible to reverse the historic antagonism between the two ruling families, and Saudi Arabia became an ally that helped Hussein secure his position.
