Geostrategic Media Political Commentary, Analysis, Security, Defense
Dr. Shehab Al-Makahleh
Jordan is no longer approaching an economic crossroads—it is standing squarely in the middle of it. From Aqaba in the south to Irbid in the north, the numbers tell one unbroken story: a society increasingly surviving on debt, not building through opportunity. What we are witnessing is not a temporary liquidity issue, but a structural economic distress that has quietly become normalized.
The latest banking figures expose a troubling reality. In just the first nine months of last year, Jordanians borrowed tens of billions of dinars—not to invest, expand, or innovate, but to endure.
Aqaba alone recorded 600 million JOD in loans. Karak followed with 689 million, Irbid with over 1.08 billion, Zarqa with 1.26 billion, and Amman with a staggering 29.4 billion JOD. These are not loans financing factories, technology, or exports. They are consumer loans—used to pay school fees, repair aging homes, cover medical bills, and secure basic necessities.
When borrowing becomes a tool for survival rather than growth, the economy is no longer breathing—it is gasping.
Debt as a Symptom, Not a Choice
The scale of indebtedness is not a reflection of extravagance; it is evidence of insufficiency. In governorates such as Ma’an and Tafilah, borrowing is not optional. Tafilah—one of the poorest regions in the country—recorded 150 million JOD in loans despite high unemployment and limited economic activity. This alone should dispel the myth that debt is driven by consumption excess.
Even in Amman, the capital and supposed engine of growth, thousands of households are sinking under the weight of low wages and rising costs. A retired civil servant earning 850 JOD a month, supporting unemployed or underemployed university-educated children, is no exception—it is a recurring national story.
High interest rates compound the crisis. As government debt expands, borrowing costs rise for citizens, trapping both the state and households in a vicious cycle. The result is an economy that consumes tomorrow to survive today.
The Income Reality Behind the Crisis
At the core of Jordan’s debt problem lies a stark truth: incomes are too low to sustain dignity.
Government data shows average monthly wages ranging from 689 JOD in Aqaba and 683 in Amman, down to 444 in Irbid, 471 in Mafraq, and just 388 in Ajloun. These figures collide brutally with the cost of living.
More alarming still, 53% of Jordanians earn less than 500 JOD per month, and 28% earn below the legal minimum wage of 290 JOD. Among retirees, 68% survive on pensions below 450 JOD. In such conditions, borrowing is not mismanagement—it is inevitability.
Low income as the primary driver of indebtedness. But low income does not exist in isolation; it is reinforced by unemployment, weak labor markets, and a shrinking middle class.
Unemployment: The Crisis Within the Crisis
Official unemployment figures hover around 21–22%, but they mask deeper fractures. Among married individuals, unemployment reaches 24%. Youth unemployment stands at 35.9%, while 44% of university graduates are jobless. For female graduates, the situation is catastrophic: unemployment reaches an estimated 76.6%.
Independent research suggests that more than 1.33 million Jordanians aged 18 and above are unemployed—far exceeding official estimates of 430,000 to 485,000. Each year, universities produce around 70,000 graduates, while the economy formally registers only about 22,000 new jobs.
This is not a gap. It is a chasm.
The consequence is predictable: despair, debt, and a growing desire to leave. Surveys indicate that 42% of youth and 39% of young women would emigrate if given the chance. A nation that educates its people only to lose them is quietly exporting its future.
Poverty, Inequality, and a Vanishing Middle Class
According to the World Bank, nearly 4 million people—around 35% of Jordan’s population—live in poverty. The middle class, once the stabilizing backbone of the economy, has either shrunk dramatically or slipped into precarity.
Conflicting poverty thresholds deepen confusion rather than resolve it. While the World Bank estimates the poverty line at roughly 800 JOD per family per month, local estimates range from 360 to 500 JOD per individual. This lack of clarity undermines policy coherence and delays decisive action.
Accountability Cannot Be Deferred
Government narratives on employment and reform no longer align with lived reality. Promises of 100,000 new jobs annually contrast sharply with official records showing only 22,000 registered positions. When institutions rely on contested figures while households rely on loans to eat, trust erodes.
Jordan’s crisis is not statistical—it is social. It cannot be solved through isolated initiatives, fragmented reforms, or rhetorical optimism.
A Path Forward—If Chosen
What Jordan needs now is not austerity disguised as reform, nor growth measured only in spreadsheets. It needs a coordinated national strategy that prioritizes productive investment, decent wages, and job creation—especially for youth and women.
Academia, government, and civil society must work together to redesign economic priorities: shifting credit toward productive sectors, supporting small and medium enterprises, reforming labor markets, and restoring the viability of the middle class.
The data is clear. The warning signs are unmistakable. The only remaining question is political will.
Jordan is crying out—not for sympathy, but for action. If that cry continues to be ignored, it will soon become something far more dangerous: a collective shout of despair.
