This past February, a celebratory announcement appeared on the Arabic-language Facebook page of the Israeli Embassy in Jordan: “Save the date! On June 29, the national teams of Israel and Jordan will meet in the Under-19 Basketball World Cup. This distinguished event reflects the friendship between our countries and the power of sports to bring nations together.”
However, following intense pressure from Islamist elements opposed to normalization, and after prolonged deliberations that lasted almost until the last minute, the Jordanian national team announced yesterday that it would not participate in the match.
In an interview with the television channel Al-Mamlaka, the president of the Jordanian Basketball Association claimed that the decision was made to protect the players from potential harassment. When asked by the host about the message this sends to the “Zionist occupying entity,” he avoided assigning political meaning to the move—likely out of concern over potential sanctions from the International Basketball Federation (FIBA).
The Jordanian boycott is not entirely surprising, given the deep crisis in Israel–Jordan relations during the war, mounting public pressure on the Jordanian monarchy to act more forcefully in support of the Palestinians, and the monarchy’s need to appease public opinion. Still, the implications of the move are serious and troubling:
First, the boycott sets a problematic precedent that highlights Israel’s growing regional isolation and signals a setback in its relations with neighboring states. In recent years, a norm has taken hold whereby athletes from Arab countries with diplomatic ties to Israel—and sometimes even from those without—don’t boycott Israeli competitors in international competitions, opting instead for symbolic gestures such as avoiding handshakes.
In such cases, “normalization” is often justified by appeals to professional sportsmanship, national pride, or even the desire to face and defeat Israel on the playing field. Jordan, which qualified for this prestigious tournament for the first time in nearly three decades, could have used these same arguments—had it wished—to justify a different decision.
Second, the boycott underscores the growing gap between the Jordanian regime and public opinion regarding Israel—especially at this sensitive time, just days after the two countries reportedly cooperated (and possibly coordinated) in intercepting missile launches from Iran.
Third, the decision signals weakness, suggesting that the street is leading the Jordanian government rather than the other way around. Israel has a clear interest in a Jordanian regime that can steer the kingdom based on its national interests, not on the agendas of radical Islamist forces that seek to dismantle the peace with Israel and strip it of all meaning.
In conclusion, while the Jordanian boycott granted Israel a technical basketball victory, it dealt a painful blow to bilateral relations. It should serve as a warning sign: Before pursuing new normalization agreements, Israel must ensure it doesn’t lose the ones it already has—and should prioritize rebuilding its relationship with its eastern neighbor.
This past February, a celebratory announcement appeared on the Arabic-language Facebook page of the Israeli Embassy in Jordan: “Save the date! On June 29, the national teams of Israel and Jordan will meet in the Under-19 Basketball World Cup. This distinguished event reflects the friendship between our countries and the power of sports to bring nations together.”
However, following intense pressure from Islamist elements opposed to normalization, and after prolonged deliberations that lasted almost until the last minute, the Jordanian national team announced yesterday that it would not participate in the match.
In an interview with the television channel Al-Mamlaka, the president of the Jordanian Basketball Association claimed that the decision was made to protect the players from potential harassment. When asked by the host about the message this sends to the “Zionist occupying entity,” he avoided assigning political meaning to the move—likely out of concern over potential sanctions from the International Basketball Federation (FIBA).
The Jordanian boycott is not entirely surprising, given the deep crisis in Israel–Jordan relations during the war, mounting public pressure on the Jordanian monarchy to act more forcefully in support of the Palestinians, and the monarchy’s need to appease public opinion. Still, the implications of the move are serious and troubling:
First, the boycott sets a problematic precedent that highlights Israel’s growing regional isolation and signals a setback in its relations with neighboring states. In recent years, a norm has taken hold whereby athletes from Arab countries with diplomatic ties to Israel—and sometimes even from those without—don’t boycott Israeli competitors in international competitions, opting instead for symbolic gestures such as avoiding handshakes.
In such cases, “normalization” is often justified by appeals to professional sportsmanship, national pride, or even the desire to face and defeat Israel on the playing field. Jordan, which qualified for this prestigious tournament for the first time in nearly three decades, could have used these same arguments—had it wished—to justify a different decision.
Second, the boycott underscores the growing gap between the Jordanian regime and public opinion regarding Israel—especially at this sensitive time, just days after the two countries reportedly cooperated (and possibly coordinated) in intercepting missile launches from Iran.
Third, the decision signals weakness, suggesting that the street is leading the Jordanian government rather than the other way around. Israel has a clear interest in a Jordanian regime that can steer the kingdom based on its national interests, not on the agendas of radical Islamist forces that seek to dismantle the peace with Israel and strip it of all meaning.
In conclusion, while the Jordanian boycott granted Israel a technical basketball victory, it dealt a painful blow to bilateral relations. It should serve as a warning sign: Before pursuing new normalization agreements, Israel must ensure it doesn’t lose the ones it already has—and should prioritize rebuilding its relationship with its eastern neighbor.