Khaberni - Dr. Maisa Al-Masri wrote - in Amman, where leaves fall on sidewalks abandoned from hope, autumn does not knock on doors alone, but also opens the door to a seasonal cosmetic surgery for a political system that has exceeded the shelf life of national makeup. We live in the season of (democratic Botox), where wrinkles are pulled from the face of the parliament, and life is injected into stiffened arteries, only to be said that something (changed).
Indeed, the postponement of the House of Representatives session is not by chance in the state's schedule, but a necessity in the production diary, where the roles of the actors are rearranged, and some faces are changed, not because the phase requires competencies, but because the audience is tired of the same faces.
On Sunday, the deputies will gather in their new session and the Jordanians will not be surprised at all by the name of the council's president and his deputies because the new democracy is not important in the approval of who uses the street but who engineers it.
In the corridors of the state, someone is rewriting the script. The decor will change slightly, the lighting will be improved, and perhaps a three-dimensional background is added to create an illusion of depth, but the stage itself has not changed, and the scenarios are written far from any audience, and ratified in closed rooms, then presented to us as if they are the will of the people.
What about the upcoming election law? It is not the fruit of dialogue, but a synthetic plant watered with international, not national, water. A law that does not produce true representation, but role-assured actors, more suitable for boring news bulletins than for addressing issues of poverty, unemployment, and political deficit. A law stuffed with terms of change, but tailored specifically for (safe responsibility), not popular participation.
And what about party life? Oh fate. After a long wait and artificial labor, five parties announced a merger. And the event, in form, is like the announcement of a new political serum,
But in essence, it is a collection of yellow leaves that fell in previous seasons, then glued together with international adhesive, in the hope that they will convince us that it is a (growing party tree).
What we are experiencing is not a natural merger of intersecting ideas or unity of programs, but closer to a forced marriage between disparate currents, hastily assembled to meet legal requirements, not people's aspirations.
Parties without an audience, without real institutions, some fear a press release, and some are confused by a tweet. And what can we expect from a party that does not dare to object? Or from an (opposition) that decorates the dialogue table but is not invited to the decision meal? So the scene is like a match held without a referee, without an audience, without a result.
And the government of Dr. Jaafar Hassan? It does not move as an executive authority. It is not a government of action, but a government of postponement. A government that masters budget language and reports, but stutters in front of the question, (When does real reform begin?)
And the citizen? Appears in the scene as a democratic accessory, summoned every four years, to participate in a ceremony called elections, then returns to his seat, with his card, and his accumulated concerns.
Therefore, when titles such as (party empowerment) and (political restructuring) shine, many Jordanians smile bitterly, because they know well the difference between artificial Botox and real reform, between recycling failure and building a new path.
Will the next parliament after the new law be a platform for accountability, or a facade for official silence?
We fear that what is happening is not a preparation for a new phase, but a continuation of an old one… with less pale faces, but the same wooden language. Does the one who writes political scenarios actually read the street? And does he hear the voice of those who do not reach decision-making centers, but are buried under its results?
We do not ask for much. We only ask that popular representation not be replaced by representational distribution, and that laws not be exchanged for the approval of financial institutions, and that political disappointments not be covered with electoral foundation cream.
We want a law that reflects us, not a law that dresses us.
In the autumn of Amman, not only leaves fall. But also the trust. And doubts are planted.
But perhaps, even for once, we break the pattern, and give this country a parliament that resembles its pain, not its cracked mirror.
