by Avi Shlaim
According to Majali, in the first month at the Mayo in July 1998 the subject of the succession was not talked about because everybody wanted to believe that the king would make a complete recovery. It was not exactly taboo, but those close to the king did not feel like talking about it. It was only in October/November, as a result of the serious deterioration in the king’s health, that the subject began to feature more prominently in their thoughts and discussions. The only official with whom the king discussed the matter directly was General Batikhi. Batikhi would go to Rochester for two days at a time to report to the king, and every meeting would last an hour or two, longer than any of the king’s other appointments. Majali’s guess is that the decision to remove Hassan began to take shape in the king’s mind in October or November, but he did not hear that from the king himself. Even as he was moving towards a decision, the king preferred to keep all his options open. Rather than tell Majali directly, the king would say to him, ‘Has General Batikhi told you and Ayman?’ without specifying what the general was meant to have said. The Majali brothers surmised that their master was planning to change the succession, but they could not be absolutely certain.23
Hussein’s decision not to allow matters to take their natural course appears to have been reached in two stages. In the first Hussein made up his mind that Hassan should not succeed but had not yet determined the structure of the succession. In the second he settled on the final disposition, namely, that Abdullah was to replace Hassan. Abdullah made no move of his own to unseat his uncle. But when the first signs appeared that his uncle’s fate was sealed, he saw no reason to rule himself out as a possible successor.24 In November, Abdullah paid a visit to his father at the Mayo. Six months previously Abdullah had commanded a daring attack on Iraqi terrorists in Sahab and won his father’s respect. At that time he told his father that he needed to know whether he had a career path in the army because, if so, he wanted to go on a course in Monterrey. Hussein advised him to go and held out the prospect of promotion to deputy chief of staff afterwards. In the Mayo, the two men had a breakfast that lasted about three hours. Abdullah recalls:
The first time was when he said, ‘I have great things in mind for you. I think you kind of learned it the hard way. I think I’ve let you down. You never asked for help and I never gave it to you. And I feel as a father looking back that I’ve let you down.’ I said, ‘A couple of years ago I would have said yes, but looking back at things, if I hadn’t gone through the hardship that I did, I don’t think I would have the experience and the knowledge that I have now. So, I am actually grateful.’ He said, ‘How is Sidi Hassan doing?’ And I said, ‘You know it is very difficult. You’re away and everybody’s terrified. In all honesty, people don’t think that there’s going to be a Jordan without you there. God forbid if something happens to you.’
He said, ‘I’m happy that when we get back you and I are going to have some talks. I need you to help me out on certain issues.’ I still didn’t connect it with… I mean, I always thought great people like my father were not going to succumb to such a thing as cancer. So I expected that what he meant was again chief of staff. But then he said, ‘I want reforms as well as a lot of change and I want you there to assist me to change those things.’ So I thought: he’s going to listen to what I’ve been saying on certain social issues and some of the army issues.25
Hussein and his wife spent Christmas in the hospital with their children. They marked the occasion with their extended family of nurses, doctors and the rest of the medical staff. Their time at the Mayo finally came to an end. They issued another press release, saying that they were leaving the hospital with the king’s cancer in remission, but that it would take five years for this to be considered permanent. They greeted the New Year 1999 at River House with six of their children. Hussein was still very weak and took only occasional walks in the garden with Noor and their daughter Iman – wearing his English shooting cap to keep his head warm and his mask against infection. He had also taken to using a cane again, partly because of his weakness and partly because of an enduring fondness for walking sticks, which he collected. With a profusion of apologies he admitted to his family that he had started smoking again. All in all, he was showing more signs of his old self.26
Despite all the meticulous care and attention that Hussein received at the Mayo Clinic, it is possible that the doctors underestimated the seriousness of his illness. They diagnosed a low grade of lymphoma when he might have been suffering from a higher one that was basically incurable. Whatever the grade, Hussein clearly needed a long period of time for convalescence. The doctors advised him to stop off for a week in London on his way back home because they knew he would be swamped once he arrived in Amman. On 5 January 1999 Hussein himself flew his plane to London, where, on 9 January, he received a surprise visit from his younger brother. The fact that Hassan had not visited Hussein at the Mayo even once was used by enemies as evidence of callousness and even disloyalty, but each time he had proposed a visit he had been discouraged. Hussein told Hassan that it was imperative that he stay put in Jordan, as he felt that a visit would feed the rumours that he was critically ill. He also felt the political situation was too uncertain to have them both out of the country at the same time. He was effusive in his praise for his younger brother, frequently referring to Hassan as the cornerstone of the Hashemites and the tree trunk that supported them all. Hassan for his part was now seriously troubled by the rumours that his brother was contemplating changes to the succession and had made the trip to London without clearing it in advance with his brother. Princess Sarvath, Hassan’s wife, made three attempts to see the king, all of which were thwarted. On one occasion, she waited for several days in the United States, but even then was not allowed to visit him.
Hussein and Hassan spent a couple of hours on their own in the king’s house in London. When the two brothers met, they fell into each other’s arms. According to Sarvath, it was a most moving reunion, and the conversation was conducted in a completely cordial atmosphere. Hussein laughed and joked, but he also confided that he was still not at all strong, that he hoped to stay longer in England, and that he wanted Hassan to stay in charge after he returned home. The question of the constitutional arrangements governing the succession was not even raised on this occasion. In the past Hussein had made various suggestions for change, notably the setting up of a family council, but Hassan had had his doubts. He was of the opinion that if the Pandora’s Box of constitutional change was opened, there were many detractors of the Hashemite monarchy who might take the opportunity to make other, more serious moves. He therefore preferred to leave things open, and Hussein knew this. As the brothers were chatting, Queen Noor and Prince Abdullah arrived suddenly. It was evident that Hassan’s arrival in London was unexpected and not wholly welcome. Hassan got up and said that perhaps he ought to be on his way. He got into his car and drove to the airport.27
The private meeting between Hussein and Hassan in London prompted a fresh round of press speculation. So did the meeting between Hussein and Prince Abdullah. Abdullah was already in London, and Hussein asked him through Majali to stay there for another day or two so they could meet and talk. Majali believes that it was at this meeting the king first intimated to his son that he had him in mind as his successor.28 Abdullah himself was not entirely certain, but he could tell that his father was very tense after the meeting with Prince Hassan. Abdullah said that he had to go back to Jordan because, as the commander of Special Operations, he was directly responsible for the security arrangements and for the motorcade on Hussein’s return. Hussein was sorry that they did not get a chance for a serious talk. He made comments on some members of the family with whom he was displeased and added cryptically: ‘I have issues with these people that I want dealt with together with you when I get back.’29 Abdullah’s account suggests that Hussein was planning to return home sooner than he told Hassan.
Hussein’s unexpected meeting with Hassan in London remains something
of a puzzle and reveals the evident complexity in Hussein’s attitude towards his brother. On the one hand, Hussein conveyed confidence in his brother and even gratitude for sharing the burdens of kingship. He spoke of him to the prime minister, for his report to parliament, as qurrat al-’ein, ‘the apple of his eye’, something precious and indispensable. On the other hand, the possibility of dropping Hassan was present in his mind, although he did not breathe a word about it. Was it kindness, the emotion of reunion or calculated ruthlessness that led Hussein to dissemble so comprehensively with his brother? Could he just not bring himself to tell him the truth to his face and so thought it kinder to indulge him with talk of plans for the future that would never be realized? Was Hussein afraid that Hassan would take steps to forestall a change in the succession and therefore cunningly lulled him into a false sense of security? Was Hussein a ruthless dissembler and the master of the multiple agenda? Or had his illness so confused him by this point that he could not maintain a clear strategy? We shall probably never have a clear-cut answer to these questions.
A few days before his departure to Jordan, Hussein taped a televised address to announce his imminent arrival. The next day he became slightly feverish. A doctor from the Mayo Clinic who was travelling with them recommended that, at the last scheduled visit to St Bartholomew’s Hospital, the king should be given not only the usual blood transfusion but also a bone-marrow tap. The suggestion had a depressing effect. ‘Hussein’s spirits and demeanor plummeted,’ Noor wrote in her journal. ‘He seemed to sink into himself with dread, especially after having publicly announced his arrival home.’30 The succession was constantly on her husband’s mind. ‘One of the most burdensome tasks he had set for himself’, she writes, ‘was to put the family and the country’s future on a confident path. He had been thinking aloud about the subject for years, and naturally it became a paramount concern at Mayo. He wished that his brother, Crown Prince Hassan, had supported his idea for a Hashemite family council to recommend Hussein’s successor on the basis of merit, a change that would have required an amendment to the Constitution, which at the time provided for the eldest son or, since 1965, a brother, to succeed the King.’31
On 19 January the royal party left England aboard a Jordanian Gulf-stream 4. On the way they were picked up by RAF, French and Italian fighter escorts. Despite his immense fatigue, Hussein piloted for the entire trip, with a break for lunch. In Amman a hero’s welcome awaited him. He descended from the aircraft unaided, and on touching Jordanian soil knelt down and prayed. Noor was by his side and joined him in reciting the Muslim prayer known as the ‘Fatiha’ to thank God for his safe return home. They were greeted by their relatives, courtiers and Arab VIPs waiting on the tarmac and then moved on to a hangar reception for government officials, the press and other guests. Adnan Abu-Odeh, the long-time political adviser, was one of the officials waiting on the tarmac. He had been a communist in his youth, but his feelings towards his monarch verged on hero-worship – just one example of the deep affection and loyalty that Hussein inspired in so many of the people who worked for him. Abu-Odeh’s description of the encounter on the tarmac is therefore worth quoting in full:
On arrival at the airport in Amman Hussein looked very frail. We were all instructed not to kiss him and not to talk to him because his body was so weak. We obeyed. But he held my hand. In November 1998 I had left a happy birthday message at his home in Washington. At Amman airport, he said, ‘Abu Sa’id, I am sorry I was not at home when you called on my birthday. How is Umm Sa’id and how are the kids?’ I replied, ‘We are all well and thinking of you and hope you get better soon.’ This was the sincere, the humane King Hussein, a man with the most wonderful manners. He was so kind, so considerate and so noble. He was dying and yet he was the one who was giving sympathy instead of being the one to receive sympathy. He was a great man. That was Hussein – sympathetic, truly sympathetic.32
The ride from the airport to the royal residence at Bab al-Salam was euphoric but foolhardy, given Hussein’s frailty. Hundreds of thousands of people came out to greet their king in spite of the driving rain and wind. Hussein asked that the sun roof of the car be opened so that he could wave to the crowds that lined the streets. Noor tried to dissuade him, but he was adamant: if his people were going to stand in the bitter rain, so would he. Noor braced his legs inside the car to give him support. By the time they got home he was completely soaked, and Noor’s orders made the nightly news: ‘Yella, Hamaam’, meaning ‘Time for a hot bath.’33
The next day Hussein gave an interview to Christiane Amanpour, who was covering his return home for CNN. She asked him about his plans, and he replied that he had always been a fatalist, that he always knew that there was a beginning and an end to life, and now he felt it more than at any time in the past. His concern, he said, was not for himself but for Jordan and its people, for its stability and progress. Amanpour asked whether this meant a change in the current plan for crown prince Hassan to be his successor. Hussein was evasive. He said that Hassan had done much good during the years spent by his side, but he also implied, in a very convoluted way, that Hassan was perhaps not the most suitable member of their family to succeed him. ‘So, sir,’ persisted Amanpour, ‘is that a yes or a no? Are you going to change the line of succession?’ King Hussein: ‘I’m not prepared to say anything, so please don’t commit me to anything whatsoever because I really haven’t come up with anything – I have only thoughts and ideas, and I’ve always had to take the final decisions and, although this has been contested at times, it is my responsibility and I will come to it at an appropriate time.’34
Significantly, Hussein did not give any clues as to other possible candidates for the succession. He did not mention even indirectly any of his sons. He could have been thinking of either Abdullah or Hamzah, but he kept all his options open. Hassan was feeling less and less secure in his position as crown prince by the hour. He wanted to see his brother as soon as possible, but he was kept waiting either by his brother or by his brother’s entourage for three days. On 21 January, Hassan sent a letter to his brother that, without saying so in so many words, sought confirmation of his position as heir-apparent. The letter was written in the flowery classical Arabic of which Hassan was a master and ended with the following words: ‘O father, brother, and friend, and venerable king, after having served as crown prince of your auspicious reign since my early youth and until now, which brought grey streaks to my hair, I find myself in this position, and I place myself in your hands and abide by your sublime and noble order.’35
Hassan was summoned to Bab al-Salam to see the king the following day, Friday, 22 January. Three days later a royal decree removed him from his position as crown prince. Most observers assumed this was the meeting at which the king informed Hassan for the first time of his decision to designate Abdullah as crown prince. This was not the case. A letter written by Hassan to Hussein three days after his dismissal is the only first-hand account we have of what actually transpired at the meeting. The letter describes Hassan’s joy at Hussein’s return to Jordan on 19 January, which was the second day of Eid al-Fitr, when the fast is broken at the end of Ramadan:
Subsequent to this joyous event, three days passed without us meeting. During that time, the media spoke of an impending decision by Your Majesty to relieve me from my responsibilities as Crown Prince, levelling all sorts of allegations and accusations against me, and attributing those allegations to both official and unofficial sources. On Friday evening, 22nd January 1999, I had the honour of meeting with Your Majesty. It was a brotherly and frank conversation and I recollect mentioning the media reports to Your Majesty. Your Majesty directed me not to pay any attention to such news. I also asked Your Majesty what I should do with respect to my duties as Crown Prince. Your Majesty instructed that I should proceed with my duties as normal, reiterating your unwavering confidence and trust in my loyalty and faithfulness. In spite of that, I handed Your Majesty a letter in which I put myself at your disposal; a
letter which you subsequently ordered published.
A few days later, on 25th January, Your Majesty’s decree to relieve me from my duties as Crown Prince was announced. On that same evening, I received a Royal letter from Your Majesty.36
All the evasions and equivocations of the previous year had suddenly come to an end. Prime Minister Fayez Tarawneh was summoned and informed of Hussein’s decision to replace Hassan with Abdullah as crown prince. Hussein also showed the prime minister a draft of the letter he had written to Hassan. It was a brief and friendly letter, thanking Hassan for his services. Despite the devastating impact that the decision to replace him must have had, Hassan accepted it calmly and with good grace. He told the king that he was his humble servant and that he would abide by his decision. Hassan’s options were: to try to foil the change in the succession; to go into exile in London; or to stay at home and maintain a dignified silence. From the very start he opted for the last. To stage a counter-coup went against his nature, and he never even considered it.37 Throughout the crisis, Hassan behaved in a calm, measured and statesmanlike manner. He even offered his help in smoothing over the process of transition. Both the king’s ADC and the prime minister were impressed by the manner in which Hassan conducted himself following this cruel reversal in his fortunes.38 Eventually, after the meetings with Hassan and Tarawneh, Hussein called his son over. It was an emotional and poignant encounter, as Abdullah recalled:
