jordan pulse -

By: Faris Karama / Rum News Agency
​AMMAN
​There are men whose worth is not measured by the positions they held, but by the distances they bridged, the doors they opened, and the hearts they managed to reach. Yousef Al-Issawi, "Abu Hasan," is one of them—a man who chose to be a bridge and the shortest path between the Hashemites and Jordanians, carrying the trust of connection between the leadership and the people, not merely as the Chief of the Royal Hashemite Court, but as a faithful servant of the Hashemite Throne, an eye seeing what is in the Jordanian street, an ear listening to the pulse of the people, and a chest accommodating their pains and stories.
​This task was neither easy nor was the path paved with roses; rather, it required a man made of oak timber—buffeted by winds yet unbroken, subjected to changing seasons yet never losing his roots. He is a man who combined the sternness of a soldier with human warmth, and the majesty of an official with the simplicity of a hometown son. Thus, he was present wherever Jordanians were, a pillar of support wherever there was need, and a familiar face in times of joy and sorrow.
​As for Jordan, it came to know him as an untiring Sinbad, roaming the governorates, badia regions, cities, towns, and refugee camps, carrying the King's message to the people and returning to the leadership with their stories, hopes, and pains. To him, the map of the homeland was not merely geography, but a large family whose paths, faces, and stories he knew intimately. He was present in houses of mourning as well as celebratory occasions as a delegate of His Majesty, and among ordinary people and those in need just as he was in official gatherings, until his presence became an integral part of the Jordanian social landscape.
​Abu Hasan was a faithful servant of His Majesty the King and the Hashemites, loyal to the house to which he dedicated decades of his life, and firmly believing that the greatest form of loyalty to the leadership is to be close to its people. He was not merely a messenger; rather, he was the eye that saw the pain of Jordanians, the ear that listened to their complaints, and the voice that carried their concerns and needs to His Majesty the King. He realized that his mission was not complete merely by delivering the leadership's message to the people, but by returning from among the people with the hopes, pains, and aspirations they carried. Therefore, he was the true bridge of connection between the Hashemites and their people—a bridge of trust and loyalty that earned the love and appreciation of the leadership, with the medals and honors he received serving as an expression of pride in his career and giving.
​Perhaps the finest aspect associated with his experience is that he did not treat the Royal Hashemite Court as an institution with doors and barriers, but rather as a large Jordanian home whose rooms accommodate all Jordanians, regardless of their backgrounds, origins, or categories. He believed that the value of the institution lies neither in its walls nor in the luxury of its offices, but in its capacity to embrace the people, and that the Court bearing the name of the Hashemites must remain close to their people, listening to them and embracing their causes.
​In Abu Hasan's character lies a paradox worthy of contemplation: a man accustomed to carrying the sorrows of others and standing beside those in need and affliction, yet who tasted the bitterness of loss himself when his cherished son, Hatem, passed away. There, where words fail and all attempts at consolation fall short, he faced a pain that positions cannot alleviate nor years erase. Yet, he remained patient and steadfast, carrying his grief in his heart while proceeding with his duty, as if the man accustomed to patting the shoulders of the bereaved chose to hide his pain from the eyes and continue standing beside the sorrows of others.
​His career was not immune to the storms of rumors, attacks, and criticisms, but he was not one to be changed by the winds or exhausted by the noise. He remained steadfast as an oak, calm in the face of storms, neither bending nor abandoning his mission. He paid little heed to what was said, being far more preoccupied with what needed to be done—as if he realized early on that responsibility is a long path that cannot afford to stop at every stumbling block.
​When we return to the beginning of the story, we find that Abu Hasan did not reach his position via a shortcut, nor was the chiefdom of the Court a fleeting station in his career; rather, it was the culmination of a journey spanning nearly seven decades in the service of the Jordanian state. The story began in 1958, when he enlisted in the ranks of the Jordanian Armed Forces – Arab Army, served in military attachés in Damascus and Beirut, and contributed to establishing the Jordanian military attaché in the Sultanate of Oman, before moving to the Royal Hashemite Court in 1993.
​Since that date, the Court has been a new chapter in the man's journey, as he moved between positions and responsibilities—from managing administrative affairs and human resources to the general secretariat, then advisory roles and following up on the implementation of Royal initiatives—until a Royal Decree was issued appointing him Chief of the Royal Hashemite Court in June 2018. This journey was not merely professional progression, but an accumulation of experience, expertise, and loyalty, during which he bore various responsibilities and remained ever-present in the details of public service.
​Today, as he celebrates his eighty-fourth birthday, his years of life resemble milestones in the book of the Jordanian state: from the military fields to the halls of the Court, from foreign missions to Jordanian villages and badia regions, all the way to the chiefdom of the Court. Throughout this career, he has been decorated with high-ranking Jordanian and Arab medals, including the Order of Independence and the Order of the Star of the First Class, the Lebanese National Order of the Cedar with the rank of Knight, and the Omani Order of Safety.
​Yet medals, regardless of how high their value, do not encapsulate the story of a man, and positions, no matter how elevated, alone cannot narrate the biography of a human being. There is another medal that protocols do not grant and state treasuries do not preserve: the love of the people and the imprint of presence in their memory.
​May Abu Hasan be well every year. Eighty-four years of life and nearly seven decades of giving: a Jordanian oak unbroken by winds, a Sinbad never tired of journeying across the paths of the homeland, a faithful servant of the Hashemites, a bridge remaining extended between the leadership and the people, and a man who realized that the greatest legacy an official leaves behind is not the chair upon which he sat, but the doors he opened, the hearts he reached, and the unwavering loyalty he maintained.
​Source: Rum News Agency