Jordan

By Lisa Beyer/Amman

They both know that the time will come when the younger brother will have to step into his older brother's role as King. And they both dread it--Hussein, 62, because it will mean his time on this earth will be over; the younger man, Crown Prince El-Hassan bin Talal, because he will inevitably be compared with his suave, preternaturally charming brother, because he will have lost not just his sibling but his mentor and closest friend, because succeeding as King of Jordan will become a test of the national unity and identity that is virtually synonymous with his brother, the man who built modern Jordan during 46 years on the throne. Most difficult of all, it will mean that Hassan must rule without the kind of utterly trustworthy, self-abnegating second-in-command he has been for his brother. He will have to do it alone.

With Hussein in an American hospital for treatment of lymphoma and not expected to return to the Middle East for at another two more months, despite a good prognosis, Hassan is currently running the country, but in close consultation with the ailing king. In a way, it is a kind of practice run for his succession, although he and the rest of the royal family believe that the king will resume the throne after successful medical treatment. The crown prince is weary of the inevitable comparisons with his charismatic older brother. He acknowledges that he is not as smooth and radiant as Hussein but, he wonders, why should he be? "What are we?" Hassan was recently overheard to ask: "A family of clones?"

They are not that, though the prince has stepped carefully in the King's shadow for the 33 years he has served as official understudy. The two share the same basic political values: moderation, a Western bent, a fervent embrace of peace. But as individuals, they are more disparate than kindred. While the King is a master of instinct, the prince is a bookish sort. Hussein is patient and given to indirection, Hassan restless, driven and blunt.

The latter qualities may have something to do with a life spent in the second chair. By law, Hussein's heir should have been his eldest son. In the first decade of Hussein's rule, however, his first two sons were considered ineligible because their mother was British. Anxious for an heir apparent, Hussein amended the constitution in 1965 and on Hassan's 18th birthday, named him crown prince. Later Hussein had three more sons, all potential Kings, stirring speculation that the succession remained open. But speaking in August from the U.S., the King declared the matter closed, muting the rumors by again declaring that Hassan will be his successor.

Despite his early call to duty, Hassan, 51, managed to obtain a formidable education. That was a privilege denied Hussein, who was proclaimed King at age 16 after his father Talal, was dethroned because of mental illness. In the absence of Talal--hospitalized in Istanbul, where he died in 1972, Hussein took on a paternal role in the life of Hassan, who was only five when their father departed. Hussein sent Hassan to England's prestigious Harrow School and then to Oxford University's Christ Church College, where he received a B.A. and an M.A. in oriental studies, specializing in Arabic and Hebrew. Hebrew was an unorthodox choice at the time but a farsighted one, given Jordan's 1994 peace treaty with Israel. Hassan also knows English, French, German and Turkish.

After the disastrous Six-Day War in 1967, Hassan took charge of rebuilding Jordan's economy and settling Palestinian refugees. On economic issues, he is passionate and smart. "He likes to call people in to talk about tariff reduction," says a Western diplomat in Amman. "He's fascinated by details, whereas the king's eyes will glaze over." In 1972, Hassan established the Royal Scientific Society, a think tank that has produced some of Jordan's leading economic experts. A proponent of IMF-style adjustments, Hassan currently oversees a program of cautious reform, including price decontrols and bank liberalizations.

Ever since Hussein's previous cancer scare, in 1992, which cost him a kidney, the King has turned over more responsibility to his brother. The palace has worked on showcasing Hassan and improving his aloof image. No longer does the prince approach crowds with his hands behind his back, as he once did. Now, his arms are outstretched in the manner of the King--and a politician. "These days he can glad-hand like the best of them," says the diplomat. But, says a palace official, "the King relates to the people instinctively, while Hassan tries to understand them always through his mind. When Hussein goes into a Bedouin tent, he enters as if he's a member of the family. Hassan goes in as a very polite guest."

Hassan's erudition and braininess can be handicaps. He is difficult to follow in dialogue, not just because of his high-speed, rumbling delivery but also because of the breadth of his conversational span. He bounces from one subject to another without pause. "You'll never get a superficial sound bite out of him," says an aide. "He immediately goes deep into substance." A longtime associate of Hassan's says he has not once managed to surprise the prince with a piece of news; Hassan has always learned it first, from an aide, the media or the Internet.

A short barrel of a man with a weakness for Big Macs, Hassan pushes himself through rigorous physical exercise. "Maneuvers," his family calls them. He works out in his home gym and plays polo with the army team.

While the King, with his Casanova appeal, is wed to his fourth wife, the U.S.-born Lisa Halaby, Hassan's personal life has been conventional. He met his Pakistani wife, the energetic Princess Sarvath, in London when both were 11 and he gave her measles. The two have three daughters and a son Rashid, 19, a potential heir to the throne. Hassan made time for bedtime stories, reading the girls The Scarlet Pimpernel before they were school age.

The family lives in the royal compound in Amman in an elegant but relatively modest stone house. Like Hussein, perhaps more so, Hassan avoids ostentation. Both brothers do their own driving. Hassan is an observant Muslim who attends the mosque and frequently cites Koranic verses. The Hashemites, descendants of the Sharifs of Mecca, base their legitimacy on their direct lineage to the Prophet Muhammad. Hassan's life-style has facilitated amicable relations with the Muslim Brotherhood, the most important opposition faction in Jordan. He was also instrumental in repairing ties with Iran, strained over charges that Tehran was fomenting Islamic unrest in Jordan.

The Israelis regard Hassan in the same light as his brother--as a reliable, even warm ally. Like the King, however, he has been scathing at times in his criticisms of the current Israeli government's obstinacy toward the Palestinians. That has made Hassan well liked within Yasser Arafat's Palestinian Authority. Periodically, the prince has mediated between the two sides. Within Jordan, Hassan has been viewed with suspicion by the majority of the population made up of Palestinian refugees and their descendants. This distrust baffles and disturbs the prince, but it has lessened over time. Today there are key Palestinians among his close aides.

Hassan likes big ideas. He harps on the need for a regional conflict-resolution center for the Middle East. He complains about the pre-eminence of "politics over policy." He lambastes the industrialized countries for valuing the oil of the Middle East over its people. He decries "the deification of leadership" and supports meritocracy, at least so long as it does not conflict with royal entitlements. He is also a proponent of the slow democratization process begun by the King. Recently, though, he signed into law controversial regulations restricting press freedoms.

The prince is famously irritable. Stupid comments earn snide retorts. In 1973, when Jordan was debating whether to enter the October War against Israel, an adviser to the King asserted that Jordanian blood must be spilled, to which Hassan replied, "So long as it is not yours, I suppose." Says a senior Jordanian official: "If you disagree with the King, he will never make you feel he is angry. With Hassan, you know he's not happy."

Some of these distinctions are choreographed. Over the years, the King and the prince have developed a deliberately complementary partnership. Hussein plays the role of the beaming, benevolent father, while Hassan is the disciplinarian, even if it makes him unloved. Hussein will receive a delegation of functionaries, clap them on the back and tell them they've done a fine job. Then he'll phone Hassan, complain about their shortcomings and instruct his brother to sort it out.

Hassan doesn't seem to mind the job of royal cleanup man because he is as ambitious for his country as he is for himself. He regards the emerging peace in the Middle East--however flawed--as a green light to proceed apace with building a modern, thriving Jordan. Getting there, he believes, will require a certain belligerence on the part of the leadership. If that makes him not Hussein, it is fine by Hassan.

--With reporting by Jamil Hamad and John F. Stacks/Amman

With reporting by Jamil Hamad and John F. Stacks/Amman