A chilling warning echoes through the corridors of power: "Jordan is next." The annexation of the West Bank by Israel signals a sinister plan, a "silent transfer" that threatens to upend the delicate balance in the region. This is not just a distant nightmare or a conspiracy theory; it's a reality unfolding before our eyes.
For decades, the idea of Jordan becoming the Palestinian state, known as the "alternative homeland," was dismissed as a conspiracy theory. But today, with a far-right Israeli government and the devastating war in Gaza, this nightmare has become a chilling operational reality.
The Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan is in a state of high alert. The Israeli cabinet's recent decision to register vast areas of the occupied West Bank as "state land" under the Israeli Ministry of Justice has sent shockwaves through the kingdom. This move, described as a "settlement revolution" by Israeli Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, effectively bypasses the military administration that has governed the territory since 1967, treating it as sovereign Israeli land.
Jordan sees this bureaucratic annexation as the death knell for the status quo. With the Israeli military's "Iron Wall" operation crushing refugee camps in Jenin and Tulkarem, the political and military establishment in Jordan is no longer asking if a forced transfer will happen but how to prevent it.
"The transfer is no longer a threat; it's moving towards execution," warns Mamdouh al-Abbadi, Jordan's former deputy prime minister. "We are witnessing the practical application of this plan. The alternative homeland is not just an idea anymore; it's becoming a reality. After the West Bank, the enemy will turn their attention to the East Bank, to Jordan itself."
The fear in Amman is not just about a military invasion but about a "soft transfer," making life in the West Bank unbearable to force a gradual exodus towards Jordan. The decision to transfer land registration authority to the Israeli Justice Ministry is seen as a critical step in this process. By erasing the historical land registries that have protected Palestinian property rights, Israel is paving the way for massive settlement expansion.
Al-Abbadi, a seasoned political voice, points to dangerous shifts in Israeli military terminology. "There's a new brigade in the Israeli army called the Gilead Brigade. Gilead is a mountainous region near Amman, our capital. This indicates that the Israelis are proceeding with their strategic plans from the Nile to the Euphrates."
He argues that the 1994 Wadi Araba Treaty is effectively null and void in the eyes of the current Israeli leadership. "Smotrich's ideology is not just the view of one person; it has become the doctrine of the state. The Israeli consensus has shifted, and they are the ones who killed the Wadi Araba treaty before it even had a chance. If we don't wake up, the strategy will be an either-or situation: either us or them. There is no middle ground."
As diplomatic avenues narrow, Jordan's military options come into focus. The Jordan Valley, a fertile strip of land separating the two banks, has become the front line of what Jordanian strategists call an "existential defense."
Major-General (retired) Mamoun Abu Nowar, a military expert, warns that Israel's actions amount to an "undeclared war" on Jordan. He suggests that if the displacement pressure continues, Jordan must be prepared to take drastic measures. "Jordan could declare the Jordan Valley a closed military zone to prevent displacement. This could lead to conflict and ignite the entire region."
While acknowledging the disparity in military capabilities, Abu Nowar dismisses the idea of Israel easily overrunning Jordan. He cites the kingdom's unique social fabric, with its tribes and clans, as a formidable force. "The Jordanian interior, with its tribes and clans, is like a second army. Every village and every governorate will be a defensive line for Jordan. Israel will not succeed in this confrontation."
However, he cautions that the situation is highly volatile. With the potential for the West Bank to erupt into a religious conflict, he warns of a "regional earthquake" if certain red lines are crossed. "Our army is professional and ready for all scenarios, including military confrontation. We cannot leave things as they are."
Jordan's anxiety is compounded by a deep sense of abandonment by its oldest ally, the United States. For decades, the "Jordanian option"—the stability of the Hashemite Kingdom—was a cornerstone of US policy. But Oraib al-Rantawi, director of the Al-Quds Center for Political Studies, argues that this "strategic wager" has failed.
"The bet on Washington has faltered, if not collapsed," al-Rantawi says. He points to a "paradigm shift" during the Trump administration, where Washington shifted its regional focus from Amman and Cairo to the Gulf capitals, lured by the promise of money and investments. Even under the Biden administration and now with Trump's return, the US has shown a willingness to sacrifice Jordanian interests for Israel.
"When push comes to shove, Washington will inevitably choose Israel without hesitation," al-Rantawi asserts. He describes Jordan's position as precarious, caught between the fire of US aid and the existential threat posed by Israel.
General Abu Nowar shares this skepticism about US protection. He questions whether Jordan's status as a key non-NATO ally holds any real weight. "Will they apply Article 5 of NATO to us? This lack of credibility from the Americans is concerning."
In the face of this isolation, voices in Amman are calling for a radical shift in Jordan's alliances. Traditionally, Jordan has maintained a cold peace with the Palestinian Authority (PA) in Ramallah while distancing itself from Hamas and other resistance factions. Al-Rantawi believes this has been a strategic mistake.
"Jordan shot itself in the foot diplomatically," he explains. By exclusively dealing with the weakened PA in Ramallah, Jordan has lost leverage. He contrasts this with Qatar, Egypt, and Turkiye, which maintained ties with Hamas and thus retained influence. "Cairo, Doha, and Ankara kept their ties with Hamas, which strengthened their presence even with the US. Jordan gave up this role voluntarily, or perhaps due to a miscalculation."
Al-Rantawi suggests this reluctance stems from internal fears of empowering the Muslim Brotherhood within Jordan, but the cost has been a loss of regional influence at a time when Amman needs it most.
The elite consensus is that the era of "diplomatic warnings" is over. The language in Amman has shifted to mobilization and survival.
In early February, Jordan officially resumed its compulsory military service program, known as "Flag Service," ending a 35-year hiatus. The Jordanian armed forces stated that this move aims to "develop combat capabilities to keep pace with modern warfare methods" in response to complex regional conditions.
Al-Abbadi goes further, calling for universal conscription to ensure total readiness. "We ask the state for compulsory conscription; everyone in Jordan must be able to bear arms."
He also emphasizes the need for cultural mobilization. "We must teach our children at least the Hebrew language, for he who knows the language of a people is safe from their evil."
Calling for strict monitoring of the King Hussein (Allenby) Bridge crossing, he adds, "If there is a slow, camouflaged transfer, we must close the bridges immediately and without hesitation."
As the Israeli Justice Ministry begins rewriting the land deeds of the West Bank, erasing Palestinian ownership, Jordan finds itself in its most precarious moment since 1967. The buffer is gone, and the kingdom stands alone in the path of the storm.
"The world gives speeches, everyone condemns... and Israel acts," al-Abbadi says. "If we do not wake up, the strategy will be an either-or situation. There is no third strategy."
This is a critical moment for Jordan and the region, and the world must take notice.
