King Abdullah II of Jordan, looking regal in army dress uniform, gazes down from a poster on the General Intelligence Department office near the Palestinian refugee camp at Baqa’a, where guards man new watchtowers flanking the metal gate and high wall across the front of the unmarked stone building.

Security has been tightened since the first day of Ramadan when a young man arrived at the local branch of what all Jordanians call the mukhabarat in the early morning and gunned down five employees before fleeing. The suspected killer, Mahmoud al-Masharfeh, was captured later that day.

And then, two weeks later, hundreds of miles away on the border with Syria, seven border guards died in a suicide mission claimed by Islamic State. Video footage showed a white pickup truck speeding across the desert and trailing a cloud of dust, before a huge explosion. It was Jordan’s worst terrorist incident in more than a decade. Thousands of Syrian refugees trapped in no man’s land suffered further misery when the Rukban crossing point was summarily closed.

There were significant differences between the two attacks. Masharfeh was apparently a lone wolf – though one with past form. Rukban was a sophisticated assault on an Arab country playing a frontline role in the US-led coalition fighting Isis – its stance hardened by the immolation of the captured Jordanian pilot Muadh al-Kasasbeh in 2015. And both have undermined the kingdom’s security and raised troubling questions about present performance and future prospects.

Masharfeh, 22, pleaded not guilty when he appeared in court on 14 July. Acquaintances described a young man who had radical religious views, spent two years in prison for links to a Salafi-jihadi group in Gaza and had been mistreated by the men he targeted. “He was very extreme and he was a loner,” recalled Hamza, who went to the same Baqa’a school and had heard of his interest in extremist preachers. “Everyone here was very shocked but people are afraid to talk because they are scared of the mukhabarat.”

Jordan’s King Abdullah II speaks to military personnel. Photograph: Khalil Mazraawi/AFP/Getty Images

According to one theory Masharfeh was a double agent who turned on his handlers – thus his apparent ease in entering the GID compound on 6 June; the more obvious explanation, say others, was that the guard was asleep at his post. No group claimed responsibility for the killings.

Masharfeh was caught after acting suspiciously in a mosque a couple of miles away, shooting one worshipper with his 7mm pistol before being overpowered. “Of course what’s happening in Syria and Iraq affects us here,” said Abu Safwan, the imam and a retired army officer who witnessed the drama. “We are used to dangers on our borders, but maybe we need to do more inside the country. I don’t think this guy was from Daesh [Isis]; maybe he was taking revenge.”

King Abdullah immediately appealed to his people to close ranks. “Our national unity is the weapon with which we confront all plots that target our stability,” he declared the following day. But senior Jordanians admit privately that something had gone badly wrong with both security procedures and vigilance. Heads, some predict, will roll after a decent interval.

And some also believe that the Rukban attack may have been a “false flag” operation mounted by Syrian intelligence – payback for Jordan supplying weapons to the rebels fighting Bashar al-Assad as well as a useful reminder of the dangers of Isis. “You can’t prove it, but you can’t refute it either,” argues Labib Kamhawi, a leftwing writer who describes Jordan as a country “walking on hot coals”.

Military and intelligence matters are one of half a dozen “red lines” Jordanian media must not cross. “There is shocking level of self-censorship,” admits one journalist. “No one wants to get on the mukhabarat shit-list,” sighs another. But these sensitive issues are still widely discussed. “The image of Jordan’s all-powerful security apparatus that can prevent any attacks has been shaken,” says Daoud Kuttab, director general of Amman’s Radio Balad. “For a while people were scared, but no one feels the country is falling apart. Jordanians are quite resilient. Still, there is a lot of worry about the future because of Syria and Daesh.”

Back in March, a serious incident in the northern city of Irbid left unanswered questions after an unprecedented 11-hour firefight between security forces and an Isis “sleeper cell” with links to drug trafficking. Seven terrorists and one army officer were killed and weapons and explosives seized. But an official gag order means very little is known about what happened.

Other serious security problems have been partially exposed since then. Last November, a police captain named Anwar Abu Zeid murdered two American security contractors and three others at a training centre before being shot himself. That was on the 10th anniversary of the 2005 Amman al-Qaida bombings, when 60 people died. Officials described the killer as psychologically disturbed and motivated by financial problems, not jihadi leanings. Isis praised him as one of the “martyred ‘lone’ knights of the caliphate” while – far more alarmingly – thousands attended his funeral chanting “Death to America, Death to Israel”.

And the gun used by Abu Zeid led to more troubling revelations. Last month, the New York Times and al-Jazeera exposed a story that was officially denied by the government in Amman but has still not been reported by Jordanian media: the sale on the black market of assault rifles, mortars and rocket-propelled grenades that were secretly purchased by Saudi Arabia for Syrian rebels and then stolen by mukhabarat officers, several of whom have since been dismissed or tried in secret.



Al-Zaatari refugee camp in the Jordanian city of Mafraq, near the border with Syria. Photograph: Muhammad Hamed/Reuters

On the Amman rumour mill the gossip is that these embarrassing details were leaked by the CIA, furious at the damage to its operation and the corruption at the heart of what was widely considered until recently to be the best intelligence service in the Arab world. “They saw money, not Daesh,” concludes Kamhawi.

Incidents like these matter because polling shows that most Jordanians are satisfied with the performance of their military and security forces, even when grumbling about the economy, a bloated state sector, high youth unemployment and all the problems created by the presence of 1.2 million Syrian refugees; an officer who posted the video of the Rukban attack on social media added a pointed comment about the dangers of welcoming too many “dirty guests”.

The war next door certainly looms large. “It is the fallout of the Syrian catastrophe that is destabilising the countries of the eastern Mediterranean, including Jordan’s demography,” said Prince Hassan, the king’s uncle and former crown prince. And everyone knows that the refugees – like the Palestinians and Iraqis before them – are unlikely to be going home any time soon.

Abdullah’s popularity does help contain dissatisfaction. “Unlike in Lebanon or Syria there is respect for the regime,” suggests Nabil, a recent graduate. “You can be disgruntled with the government, but you assume that the royal family will take steps to rectify the problem.”

Yet support for Isis – in Jordan and elsewhere – has been repeatedly linked to dissatisfaction, poverty and ignorance. “People join Daesh not because they believe its ideology but because they are offered jobs and a voice when the state has failed to deliver,” insists one veteran analyst. Large numbers have also joined the al-Nusra Front, al-Qaida’s Syrian affiliate, or been tried in Amman’s state security court just for praising it on Whatsapp or Facebook.

In one recent survey, 87% of those polled were unable to name a single positive achievement of the last parliament, which is notoriously open to manipulation by the mukhabarat. And with new elections due in September, no one is holding their breath in expectation of more accountable government. The race will also be another test for the country’s Islamists, who are tolerated to a degree unusual in the Arab world – as long as they remain weak and divided.



In the past few months constitutional amendments have given Abdullah greater power over key appointments, his position bolstered by the knowledge that the US, Britain and other western supporters need Jordan more than ever in a region racked by multiple crises. Stability and security are relative, but real change does not appear to be on the agenda. Loyalty to the king may not be enough.

“Isis is being squeezed on the ground and it will seek retribution in Jordan and elsewhere,” warns a European diplomat. “The GID has a phenomenal grip on internal dissent, but it can only do so much. Something is definitely brewing here but it’s hard to judge the pace of it.”

