Khaberni - What happened in the Jordanian House of Representatives during the first session of the new ordinary session was not a procedural incident or a failure in coordination between the blocs, but a deep political manifestation of a silent struggle about defining national consensus, and who owns the right to engineer it inside the parliamentary dome.
The scene, which outwardly appeared as competition over committee seats, was fundamentally an early declaration of the power struggle between two directions within the political system; one seeks to keep party participation under a controlled ceiling, and the other aims to break this ceiling while remaining within the institution.
Since the moment any deputy decided to nominate himself, defying the acclamation agreement, the idea upon which the session was built—that everything could be pre-arranged under the title of coordination—fell apart. But the question that opened up afterward was bigger than the procedure itself: who defines the rules of the new party game? And who is allowed to be an actual player in it?
On the other hand, the official authority, apparently, does not want to completely exclude anyone, but it also does not want a partner who is difficult to control. In the mind of the state today, there is a precise equation (we want pluralism, but we do not want competition).
This makes it wary of any current that owns a real social base or a discourse that goes beyond the usual bureaucratic language.
Meanwhile, the other party has realized that the message is clear, participation is welcomed as long as it is formal, and objections are acceptable as long as they are calm. And because symbolic presence no longer convinces its audience, it decided to move its battle from the pages of debate to the heart of the legislative institution (the parliament) in a smart political step that shifts the confrontation from a level of discourse to a level of procedure.
Parliamentary committees are not an administrative detail. They are the real kitchen where laws are cooked and policies are monitored. And whoever holds an influential position in the Legal or Financial Committee, owns the ability to draft laws under the cover of institutional work. That's why the competition for them was not a struggle for a seat, but for a position in the political consciousness.
Conversely, it seems that the official mind still manages the idea that controlling the parliament is necessary to control the street, and that opening the field to uncertain voices could disrupt the internal system's balance.
But what has recently happened showed that this safety management model no longer guarantees results. Every attempt to tightly pull the strings generates a counter-reaction that redistributes the cards in unexpected ways.
It is notable that everything that has unfolded in recent weeks from articles, analyses, and leaks about the future of party participation has been like political trial balloons. Messages intended to convince some that the margin of play is narrow, and that silence is the safe choice.
But the response practically came from within the parliament, in a symbolic moment that flipped the equation and embarrassed the entire political middle.
In this sense, the committee crisis turned into something resembling an undeclared referendum on the viability of the political reform project itself.
So, is the requirement for parties to complete the state’s picture, or for parties that contribute to decision-making?
And is the parliament a space for dialogue or an echo chamber that repeats the official stance in a different voice?
The observer of what happened will notice that the tension was not only between the deputies but, let's say, between two philosophies,
a philosophy that considers that the political system is capable of renewing itself from within, provided it remains tightly controlled, and another philosophy that sees that any reform cannot pass through a real test of the legislative power will remain mere cosmetic on a fragile surface.
Thus, the crisis was not about the names of the committees or their seats, but about who monopolizes the right to speak in the name of the state, and who is granted the right to speak on behalf of the people. And between these two voices is formed the thin line that separates political participation from formal representation.
It will later be said that things returned to their proper place, and that the acclamation restored calm.
But the truth is that what broke this time was not a parliamentary agreement, but the full control aura that surrounded the parliamentary scene for years.
Today, Jordan is facing a true moment of testing. Either the political reform project is completed with daring that opens the door to real participation, or the project remains governed by a management mentality of form over substance.
And the parliament is not just a mirror of the state, but one of its pillars, so if it deliberately sees itself with one eye, it will not succeed in reading the future.
In the end, the committees may be reshaped away from the limelight, but the message is delivered,
Jordanian politics can no longer be managed forever with yesterday’s tools, nor can any party monopolize the meaning of national consensus.
Under the title (Khaberni), the people no longer just read the texts, but what is said behind them.
