Geostrategic Media Political Commentary, Analysis, Security, Defense
Eng. Salem Al-Batayneh
I often find myself puzzled when I sit down to write an article. I wonder how certain scenes, events, and reckless slips of the tongue suddenly emerge in public discourse—expressions so careless and so intellectually shallow that they reveal how far rationality has sometimes been pushed aside.
I am not someone who normally favors harsh language. But this is hardly the first time that certain voices have stepped outside the bounds of responsible public discourse. What is more troubling is that the same mistakes continue to be repeated, accompanied by an apparent willingness to ridicule aspects of our history, customs, and social life.
The problem is not criticism itself. Societies must be capable of criticizing their past, questioning their traditions, and debating their future. But there is a fundamental difference between constructive criticism and contempt. There is an equally important difference between modernization and the rejection of one’s own historical identity.
In recent days, Jordanians have witnessed a series of public scenes and expressions that many found deeply offensive. Some of the language—mocking Jordanian history, social customs, clothing, and everyday life—appeared to reduce an entire national experience to a caricature.
That should concern us.
A nation does not become modern by being ashamed of its history. Nor does a society become progressive by ridiculing the traditions that shaped it.
Human dignity is not inherited automatically; it is built through conduct, responsibility, and a sense of belonging. The same is true of national dignity. A country earns respect not simply because of its geography or political status, but because its people understand their history, protect their institutions, and possess enough confidence to distinguish between genuine reform and empty provocation.
There have always been people who attempted to distance themselves from their own history, replacing memory with fashionable slogans and substance with spectacle. But history cannot simply be discarded because it has become inconvenient.
This is where the debate over language becomes important.
Words matter.
When we were taught grammar and sentence construction, we were taught that precision in language reflects precision in thought. Choosing one word instead of another can completely change the meaning of a sentence. Public figures, commentators, and influencers therefore carry a particular responsibility when they speak about a nation’s identity and collective memory.
Terms such as “brain rot” have increasingly entered contemporary political and cultural vocabulary to describe intellectual deterioration, distraction, or the erosion of meaningful thought. Whatever terminology we use, the phenomenon is recognizable: serious questions are increasingly replaced by spectacle, and thoughtful debate by provocation.
The deeper problem is not ignorance alone. Ignorance has always existed.
What is new—and considerably more dangerous—is the transformation of ignorance into a form of fashionable confidence.
Lack of knowledge, poor judgment, and intellectual excess are no longer necessarily treated as weaknesses to be overcome. They can instead be packaged attractively, amplified through social media, and presented as evidence of a supposedly “new consciousness.”
This is not necessarily modernity. Sometimes it is simply insecurity dressed up as sophistication.
A society can modernize without humiliating itself.
It can reform its institutions without insulting its ancestors.
It can embrace technology without abandoning its cultural memory.
And it can look toward the future without declaring war on its own past.
Jordanian society, like every society, is not perfect. It has contradictions, economic difficulties, political frustrations, social problems, and historical debates that deserve serious examination. Jordanians should be able to discuss all of these issues openly. But openness should not be confused with contempt, and freedom of expression should not be reduced to the freedom to insult.
The current controversy should therefore not be dismissed as merely another cycle of angry reactions on social media.
It has become a matter of public opinion because it touches something deeper: the relationship between Jordanians and their national identity.
People become angry when they believe that their history is being treated as an embarrassment, their traditions as evidence of backwardness, and their way of life as something that must be mocked before it can be replaced.
That anger deserves to be understood rather than simply dismissed.
At the same time, anger cannot be allowed to become an excuse for intolerance. The appropriate response to irresponsible speech is not another form of irresponsible speech. The stronger response is argument, evidence, historical knowledge, and public accountability.
I expected those responsible for the offensive remarks to recognize the reaction they had provoked and, at the very least, offer an apology. An apology would not necessarily diminish anyone. On the contrary, acknowledging a mistake can be a sign of confidence and maturity.
But whatever happens next, there is a larger lesson.
We may not be able to silence every provocative voice, nor should a democratic society seek to silence legitimate disagreement. But we can decide which voices deserve our attention. We can refuse to reward triviality with endless publicity. We can choose not to amplify every provocation simply because it generates clicks, controversy, or social-media engagement.
The real challenge facing Jordan is therefore not a few offensive expressions.
It is the emergence of a culture in which provocation can become more valuable than knowledge, spectacle more attractive than substance, and contempt more profitable than serious discussion.
That is the real “Jordanian fantasia.”
It is the fantasy that a society can become modern by forgetting where it came from.
It is the fantasy that national identity is an obstacle rather than an asset.
It is the fantasy that ridicule constitutes intellectual courage.
And it is the fantasy that the louder a person speaks, the more enlightened that person must be.
Jordan does not need to choose between its past and its future.
It needs to understand that its future will be stronger when it knows its past.
Modernity should not require cultural amnesia. Reform should not require humiliation. And criticism should never require contempt.
The answer to intellectual shallowness is not silence. It is knowledge.
The answer to historical amnesia is not nostalgia. It is memory.
And the answer to those who turn public discourse into spectacle is ultimately the most powerful response of all: we simply stop listening.
Eng. Al-Batayneh was a member of the Jordanian Parliament.
