jordan pulse -
By Dr. Amer Bani Amer
A question has frequently resurfaced in the Jordanian public sphere recently: How do we distinguish between genuine patriotism and opportunism? How do we separate someone who raises their voice out of real concern for the country from someone who does so merely to climb into office? How do we differentiate between a critic aiming to reform the state, a former official who only discovered its flaws after leaving power, and an opposition that knows exploiting public anger is the fastest route to an audience?
I do not claim to possess definitive answers or read anyone's intentions, but we have every right to ask. When we read a former official harshly criticizing state dysfunction today, we must ask: Did these flaws exist when decision-making power was in their hands? If so, what did they do about them, and was their voice equally clear back then? Likewise, when we hear a politician attack public policy, we must ask: Would they say the exact same thing if they were part of the government today?
When a political movement singles out the most provocative public issues and escalates its rhetoric as public anger rises, we must ask: Where does patriotic opposition end and populism begin? Where does legitimate oversight end and political exploitation of anger begin? Yet these questions cannot be one-sided. When an official or politician defends every government decision and rationalizes every mistake, we also have the right to ask: Is this a defense of the state, or a defense of one's position and ambition?
The core problem lies neither in criticism nor in defense, but in standards that shift whenever a person's position changes. We defend institutions while inside them, only to discover their flaws after departing; we reject populism when our rivals employ it, yet borrow its tools when it offers the shortest path to public popularity; and we demand that others take responsibility, while offering ourselves excuses when responsibility falls on our shoulders.
Has the state changed, or has our position relative to it changed? Perhaps one word captures the entire issue: consistency. Consistency means saying outside office what you would say inside it, demanding of yourself what you demand of your opponent, and upholding a principle when it serves you as well as when it carries a personal cost.
Therefore, the question that should confront every official, deputy, political party, opponent, and aspiring public figure is this: Would you say the exact same things if you were sitting today in the very seat you are criticizing? And conversely: Would you defend the exact same decision if you were sitting outside that seat?
This brings us to political parties and movements. I firmly believe that any movement has the right to oppose the government, use parliament for accountability, and mobilize public opinion; that is the essence of politics. However, every Jordanian has the right to ask: What comes after the rhetoric? Where is the viable alternative? Are we facing a political project with a clear plan should it reach power, or merely rhetoric that excels at opposition without ever explaining how it would govern once in office?
As for other political actors: Why leave the public square to others and then complain about their expansion—whether a movement or an individual? Where is your own discourse? Where is your organization? Where is your presence among the people? Politics and public service do not wait for absentees, and the public will not wait for those who fail to reach them. Those who abandon the arena cannot blame others for stepping forward. Calling a discourse populist is insufficient; you must offer a superior alternative. Warning against the rise of a movement is not enough; you must build a movement capable of competing with it.
The danger does not lie in opposition itself. It arises when grandstanding replaces policy, or when blind applause replaces constructive criticism. Not every attacker is a hero, not every defender is a patriot, not every critic is an adversary, and not every former official is an opportunist.
The true criterion is simultaneously simpler and far more challenging: What did you say while in office, and what did you say after leaving it? What did you say when a stance benefited you, and what did you say when it carried a cost? Perhaps that is why the crucial question is no longer "Who is a patriot?", but rather the far more difficult one: "When were they a patriot?" Before taking office or after? When decision-making was in their hands, or when they began criticizing it? When the answer shifts depending on the chair, we have every right to ask—without accusing anyone—has the homeland changed, or has our position relative to it changed?