Despite current tensions in the Middle East, this reporter remains optimistic about that area, having observed cooperation between opposing soldiers during an initial trip to that area some 25 years ago.
It started when the editor of a daily newspaper handed over a junket to Jordan for a potential energy story. But Jordan is not a significant oil producing country and couldn't even be used as a stepping-stone into a major producing country like Saudi Arabia. In fact, the only other Middle Eastern country open to reporters without special invitation was Israel. That provided an angle for a different story—how two Middle Eastern countries with the least oil and natural gas resources were coping with the then-rising cost of energy.
It raised a second major problem. Jordan had not then signed a peace treaty with Israel after the 6-Day War of 1967; technically, they were still at war. Yet there had to be a way to cross from Jordan to Israel and back again. But when the flight touched down in Amman some weeks later, there was no solution yet in sight and only the slight hope that the local US embassy could be of service. "There is a local travel agent who might help you," said an embassy official. After a week of interviewing Jordanian officials, the quest led to this miracle worker.
Miracle worker
The travel agent looked like Hollywood's idea of a Middle Eastern spy—a large man in a light-colored suit, with a big mustache favored by area strongmen and a nose like the predatory beak of a falcon. He listened silently to the problem, then commanded, "Give me your passport." He thumbed through it, checked its photo against the face before him, and dropped it into a desk drawer. "Come back tomorrow morning," he said. However, the next stop was back at the embassy to report the apparent confiscation of a US passport. "Don't worry," said the official. "He's probably legitimate."
The next morning, the agent produced the passport along with two letters written in Arabic. "When you get to the border, give the army officer this letter," he said, holding up one. "Don't give him the other letter until you come back across." The two letters were carefully stashed in separate pockets for safety, and soon the wandering reporter was in a dilapidated bus loaded with Palestinians and a few other Westerners, bouncing across the desert.
The bus seemed to be the only thing moving through that rugged landscape. But as it passed through a seemingly deserted village, passengers caught glimpses of soldiers, artillery, and tanks down side streets. The bus rounded a corner and screeched to a halt among soldiers manning sandbagged machineguns. There was another passport inspection, and a young army officer collected the first of the two mysterious letters. Following those formalities, the bus and its passengers rattled across the Allenby Bridge to the Israeli-occupied West Bank.
Security tightened immediately on the Israeli side. Passengers and their luggage were subjected to a rigorous inspection that makes present Homeland Security measures at US airports seem childlike by comparison. New arrivals were required to point cameras at the ceiling and click the shutters, squeeze toothpaste from the tubes, and spray shaving cream and deodorants from cans to make sure everything was what it appeared to be and not some secret weapon.
Return trip
It was a different story, however, a few days later at the end of the visit when the reporter raced back to the Allenby crossing just moments before the bridge was to be closed for 36 hr in observance of the Jewish and Muslim Sabbaths. This time the passport rated only a cursory glance from Israeli guards as the government car was waived through the checkpoint. The escort from the government's public relations office delivered passenger and luggage to the bridge, offered one last handshake, and waved the visitor toward the Jordanian side. But wait a minute—how is a monolingual, Western pedestrian to obtain transportation back to Amman after he reaches the other side?
The public relations officer stepped aside to confer with one of the military guards, who then walked out on the bridge. On the opposite shore, a Jordanian soldier stepped from behind sandbags and came our way. The two soldiers met at the middle of the bridge, exchanged remarks, then started back to their respective sides. "It's okay," said the returning Israeli soldier. "They're calling a cab."