Neighbours, but miles apart

By Kesava Menon

AQABA (JORDAN), DEC. 26. This Red Sea resort at the southern end of Jordan does not merely bespeak the benefits that peace in West Asia can bring, it screams of the need for the peace. Running in an apparently seamless continuum on the western part of the Gulf named after this town is the Israeli resort of Eilat. Aqaba and Eilat are virtually twin cities that have, and still could, benefit from the great potential for tourism in the region.

The bleak present - which fills the gap between a short, bright past and a hopefully far brighter and more durable future - reveals how politics has played havoc with the livelihood of the people. The insidious role of politics is all the more significant because its overt manifestations are hardly visible. Everyone knows that there is an international border between Aqaba and Eilat. But in the drive down into the rather narrow valley in which both cities are situated the border is just a thin ribbon of green by day and of lights by night. It looks more like a common ground linking the two halves of the same town rather than a border fence dividing two uneasy neighbours.

Paradoxically, even the contrasting physical aspects of Aqaba and Eilat speak more of the potentialities inherent in easy intercourse between them rather than of the necessity of keeping them apart. Aqaba is a quiet town, its Arab nature veiled by the ambience of a Mediterranean resort. Viewed from this side, Eilat is straightforward American with huge hotels and multi- storied condominiums dominating its appearance. By night, the contrast between dignified silent Aqaba and the brash, flashy Eilat is even more vivid.

It is easy to imagine the tourist staying in one of the compact buildings that constitute Aqaba's hotel industry looking to go across to Eilat for some action. It is just as easy to think of people in Eilat wanting to come across to this side to escape the sound and light. The political division looks all the more ridiculous and irritating when the area is looked at from the air or sea.

Planes to Eilat loop across the other end of the bay and land in plain view of Aqaba while the airport that serves this town (and incidentally the seaside palace of the King of Jordan) lies adjacent to the border itself. A trip on one of the glass- bottomed boats, that are used to view the abundant coral in th Gulf of Aqaba, brings out the irrationality of the political divide just as profoundly. There is nothing but the warning from the over-cautious crew of a police launch to indicate that the boat might be straying too close to the international border.

For a few bright years - when the negotiations between Israelis and Palestinians were making headway and after the treaty between Jordan and Israel was signed - the potential of the region was on the verge of being realised. Those who traversed the Negev desert in Israel to savour the pleasures of Eilat could cross into Aqaba and partake of the quite different experience that Jordan has to offer. For the pilgrims, Christian and Jewish, the Jordan side of the Arava valley (which both countries share), leads on to the site of Mount Nebo (associated with Moses) and Bethany (associated with Jesus Christ). It is difficult to imagine how a pilgrimage can be considered as complete if the full circuit cannot be made.

The potential for adventure, historical and religious tourism is only multiplied by the proximity of the Egyptian Sinai peninsula which forms the western border of the Gulf of Aqaba. Till protests broke out against the Israeli occupation in the Palestinian territories, in late September, the full potentialities of the tourist trade were being gradually extracted. With the outbreak of those protests the fulcrum of regional tourism has become almost defunct. Most tour groups originating from the developed world focus their travel plans on Israel with the Sinai or Jordan added on as optional extras.

With the tourist trade in Israel-Palestine having slackened off considerably, Aqaba and the rest of Jordan have suffered. The two months of October and November mark the high water points of the annual tourism tide. In these two months this year, there were hardly any tourists, complain the residents of Aqaba.

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