Could a Jordanian Coup Destroy Israel? The Final Domino in Middle East Stability

The Coup That Could End Israel

In the volatile chessboard of the Middle East, the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan has long been a cornerstone of relative stability and a quiet buffer for Israel’s eastern flank.

Observers increasingly speculate that if this cornerstone were to crumble – for instance, through a nationalist or Islamist coup toppling King Abdullah II’s government – it could trigger a cascade of events endangering the entire region’s balance and even Israel’s survival as a state.

This analysis explores that hypothesis in depth, focusing on the geopolitical and military ramifications while accounting for the economic, ideological, religious, and cultural undercurrents. Using a 2025–2030 time horizon, we assess Jordan’s domestic fragility, the alignment (or misalignment) between its monarchy and people, the likely reactions of regional actors (Iran, Syria, Hezbollah, Hamas, etc.), shifts among traditional U.S. allies like Saudi Arabia and Egypt, and the influence of great-power competition.

We also model possible scenarios to illustrate how a collapse of Jordan’s monarchy might tip the balance between regional survival and conflagration.

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The Hashemite Kingdom: Origins, Legitimacy, and the Legacy of Imperial Patronage

To understand the contemporary fragility of Jordan’s monarchy, one must examine its roots in the imperial reshaping of the Middle East. The Hashemite dynasty, which today rules Jordan, was not a local tribal power or a native revolutionary force, but rather a transplanted royal family installed by imperial fiat in the wake of World War I. This history continues to shape both the monarchy’s perceived legitimacy and its tenuous place among Arab publics who increasingly view monarchies as remnants of colonial manipulation.

The Hashemites are descendants of the Prophet Muhammad through the line of his grandson Hasan, and they once held great religious and symbolic significance in the Islamic world. For centuries, the Hashemite family served as the Sharifs of Mecca, custodians of Islam’s holiest sites under nominal Ottoman authority.

During the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, Hussein bin Ali, the Sharif of Mecca, led the Arab Revolt (1916–1918) against the Ottomans with the backing of the British Empire, who famously made promises of Arab independence in exchange for support against the Turks. These promises—later undermined by the Sykes-Picot Agreement and the Balfour Declaration—became a bitter symbol of Western duplicity in the region.

As a consolation for their betrayal of the Ottomans and their cooperation with British imperial interests, Hussein’s sons were rewarded with thrones carved from former Ottoman provinces. Faisal was briefly made King of Syria in 1920, before the French expelled him and he was installed by the British as King of Iraq. Abdullah, another son of Hussein, was placed on the throne of the newly created Emirate of Transjordan in 1921 under British mandate rule. That territory would later become the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan upon independence in 1946.

From the outset, the Hashemite rule in Jordan was an imposed monarchy, not a homegrown revolution or consensus of tribes. Abdullah’s position was maintained through British military and financial support. The famed Arab Legion, Jordan’s military backbone, was commanded by British officers until well into the 1950s. While the Hashemites were respected for their lineage and anti-Ottoman role, their authority in Transjordan came at the expense of other local Arab leaders who were bypassed in the imperial settlement. Many East Bank tribes only grudgingly accepted Hashemite rule, and the state’s survival was repeatedly threatened by regional upheavals and domestic unrest—most notably the 1950s pan-Arab nationalist wave, the 1967 war and the loss of the West Bank, and the 1970 civil war with the PLO known as Black September.

Jordan is not alone in this legacy. Across the Middle East, several monarchies were either created or preserved by imperial powers as instruments of control. Iraq’s Hashemite monarchy, for example, was installed by the British in 1921 but overthrown in a bloody 1958 coup. The Shah of Iran, though technically not a monarch placed by Britain, was reinstated in power by the CIA and MI6 after the 1953 coup against Mossadegh. Saudi Arabia, while forged more independently by Abdulaziz Ibn Saud, benefited from British and later American support, especially through oil security arrangements. The Gulf monarchies—Kuwait, Bahrain, Qatar, the UAE—were all protectorates of Britain, whose rulers were preserved through treaties that protected their thrones in exchange for Western access to oil and maritime routes.

In this broader historical frame, the survival of monarchies in the Middle East is not a coincidence, but rather the result of deliberate imperial strategy to create loyal, non-revolutionary partners in a region prone to radical upheaval. These regimes were viewed as more predictable and controllable than republican or socialist alternatives. However, this strategy came with a long-term cost: popular legitimacy.

While monarchs have survived by adapting, repressing, and redistributing wealth, their perceived lack of democratic or indigenous legitimacy has left them vulnerable to the very public sentiments they attempt to suppress.

Jordan’s Hashemite monarchy, then, is both a relic of the imperial past and a survivor of the post-colonial present. Its endurance—nearly a century after its creation—has been due to a careful balancing act of tribal alliances, external support, and internal security. But this endurance does not equate to invincibility. In the minds of many Jordanians today, especially younger generations who feel no loyalty to the myths of the Arab Revolt, the monarchy is an elite institution propped up by the West and out of step with popular Arab and Islamic aspirations. It is in this context—where the throne was not organically rooted, but rather implanted and preserved by foreign backing—that one must evaluate the plausibility and potential consequences of the monarchy’s collapse.

Jordan’s Fragile Monarchy and Public Discontent

Jordan’s monarchy under King Abdullah II is widely seen as stable on the surface, but it rests on fragile foundations. The kingdom faces severe economic strains: unemployment has hovered around 22%, and a 2023 poll found 63% of Jordanian youth were considering emigration due to lack of opportunities (Jordan was already walking a tightrope. Then the Gaza war happened. – Atlantic Council).

Oh Hamas, hit them with Qassam rockets… bring the suicide bombers to Tel Aviv.

Public frustration has at times bubbled over – from protests by teachers demanding better pay in 2020 to demonstrations against tax hikes – only to be met with crackdowns. In 2021, internal rifts within the royal family came to light when King Abdullah accused his half-brother, Prince Hamzah, of a “seditious” coup plot, placing him under house arrest.

While the royal court contained that episode, it highlighted the kingdom’s “house of cards” stability. Indeed, Freedom House in 2023 rated Jordan “Not Free,” reflecting how tightly the king controls politics (appointing governments, senators, and military chiefs). Beneath the monarchy’s firm grip lies a populace chafing at corruption, economic stagnation, and lack of voice – conditions ripe for exploitation by nationalist or Islamist movements promising change.

A critical wedge between the rulers and the ruled is the issue of Israel and Palestine. The Hashemite government maintains a nearly 30-year peace treaty with Israel (since 1994) and a generally pro-Western foreign policy, but this stance starkly diverges from Jordanian public sentiment. Approximately 50–60% of Jordan’s population is of Palestinian origin, including Queen Rania, and sympathy for the Palestinian cause runs high across East Bank and West Bank-origin Jordanians alike.

Even before recent conflicts, surveys showed overwhelming hostility toward Israel. In a 2023 poll, 84% of Jordanians opposed any business cooperation with Israel even if it benefited Jordan’s economy. A similar majority said they would refuse Israeli humanitarian aid after a disaster, reflecting a deep aversion to normalizing ties. Notably, 60% viewed Hamas firing rockets at Israel positively (versus only 37% seeing it negatively).

Such views hardened further after the Israel–Hamas war of October 2023. As Israel bombarded Gaza in late 2023 up to present day, 66% of Jordanians voiced support for Hamas’s surprise October 7 attack that killed 1,200 Israelis. Thousands of protestors in Amman poured into the streets nightly, with some attempting to storm the Israeli Embassy and chanting, “Oh Hamas, hit them with Qassam rockets… bring the suicide bombers to Tel Aviv”.

This furious outcry forced the palace into a delicate balancing act: authorities arrested over a thousand demonstrators to prevent unrest from boiling over, yet the monarchy also tried to placate public opinion with tough rhetoric against Israel.

Jordan’s king intensified criticism of Israel to narrow the gap between state policy and popular sentiment. Queen Rania gave high-profile interviews blasting Western leaders for not condemning Israel’s Gaza campaign, and King Abdullah himself donned military fatigues to help airlift aid to Palestinians in Gaza in a public show of solidarity. Amman withdrew its ambassador from Tel Aviv during the war and warned Israel that any attempt to push Palestinian refugees into Jordan would be considered a “declaration of war”.

Despite these gestures, the King stopped short of the drastic steps Jordan’s street demanded – such as cancelling the peace treaty or severing all ties. Activists openly deplored the regime’s “balancing act,” accusing it of doing too little. They noted that King Abdullah had expelled Hamas leaders from Jordan decades ago and still enforces security cooperation with Israel, including preventing Jordanians from massing at the West Bank border to support Palestinians.

Indeed, even as the war in Gaza raged, Amman quietly upheld key agreements: it refused to annul the 1994 peace treaty, continued with a multi-billion-dollar gas import deal from Israel, and even requested an extension of a water-sharing arrangement to alleviate Jordan’s severe water shortages. To many Jordanians, these actions proved that their government ultimately sides with Israel and the U.S. out of self-interest – namely, preserving the approximately $1.5 billion in annual U.S. aid that Jordan receives. As one protest sign in Amman cynically suggested, the monarchy’s survival appeared intertwined with Israel’s, at the expense of Palestinian lives.

This divergence between a pro-Western palace and a pro-Palestinian populace represents a profound instability. It means that every time tensions flare between Israelis and Palestinians, Jordan’s own stability is tested. By late 2024, Jordan’s main Islamist party – the Islamic Action Front (linked to the Muslim Brotherhood) – capitalized on public anger to win an unprecedented 31 out of 138 seats in parliamentary elections, despite the monarchy’s efforts to curtail Islamists’ influence. Turnout was low (around 32%, reflecting cynicism about the toothless parliament), but the result signalled that Islamists and other opposition voices are gaining ground as critics of the monarchy’s Israel policy.

In short, Jordan’s monarchy is under growing strain, caught between its reliance on Western support and an increasingly restive public that views the regime as betraying the Palestinian cause. This is the context in which a coup or collapse could emerge – not out of the blue, but riding a wave of popular disillusionment and anger.

Jordan’s Strategic Importance to Regional Stability

Jordan’s geographical and strategic position has made it a linchpin of the regional order since the mid-20th century. The kingdom sits at the heart of the Levant, sharing borders with Israel/Palestine, Syria, Iraq, and Saudi Arabia. Notably, Jordan forms Israel’s longest contiguous land border, stretching over 300 km from the fertile north (adjacent to the West Bank) down to the Red Sea. For decades, this frontier has been quiescent and securely managed under the Israel–Jordan peace treaty – a welcome relief for Israel, which faces active threats on its northern border with Lebanon (Hezbollah) and its southwestern border with Gaza (Hamas).

If that were to change, Israel would suddenly confront a hostile expanse to its east, greatly extending its front lines. Israeli strategists have long viewed the Jordanian buffer, along with the highlands of the West Bank, as critical to Israel’s depth and defence. As one analysis starkly put it, the fall of the Hashemite monarchy could place an “extreme [Islamist] regime with incandescent hostility” in Amman, forcing Israel to contend with “a huge expanse of hostile territory” from the Jordan River to the Iraqi border. In such a case, the precarious “narrow waist” of Israel (about 50 km from the Jordan Valley to the Mediterranean at its narrowest) would be directly exposed to enemies on both sides.

Regionally, Jordan has played the role of a balancer and mediator. It has been a loyal U.S. ally (designated a major non-NATO ally) and has cooperated with neighbours to combat extremist threats like ISIS. Amman’s security services, among the region’s most capable, have quietly coordinated with Israel and Western intelligence to keep jihadist networks in check. The kingdom also hosts millions of refugees from conflicts next door – over 1.3 million Syrians from the Syrian Civil War, hundreds of thousands of Iraqis from earlier wars, and a longstanding population of Palestinian refugees. This humanitarian burden strains Jordan’s economy and infrastructure, but in turn Jordan’s stability prevents these refugee crises from spilling further afield. The Hashemite regime’s moderation has made it a pillar of initiatives for regional peace, from the 1990s Oslo process to more recent quiet talks. It maintains the custodianship of Islamic holy sites in Jerusalem, a role that gives it religious legitimacy. All of this would be thrown into question if the monarchy fell.

In short, Jordan is a keystone of the current Middle East order. A sudden shift in Jordan’s orientation – from pro-Western monarchy to hostile revolutionary regime – would remove a key buffer for Israel, unravel cooperative security frameworks, and potentially open a power vacuum at the crossroads of the Levant. With Syria to its north still recovering from civil war, Iraq to its east fragile, and Saudi Arabia to its south wary of instability, a collapse in Jordan could send shockwaves in all directions. It is against this backdrop that analysts call a Jordanian collapse the “final strategic domino” – the last major piece whose fall could upend the entire regional balance that has existed since the Cold War.

The People vs. the Palace: Jordan’s Israel Policy in Contradiction

One of the most significant factors in a potential Jordanian collapse is the yawning gap between the government’s foreign policy and the population’s sentiments regarding Israel and Palestine. This gap has widened into a chasm in recent years, and any coup – whether led by nationalist army officers or Islamist activists – would almost certainly exploit it. Understanding this dynamic is crucial, because it explains why a new regime in Amman would likely take a dramatically different approach toward Israel, with far-reaching consequences.

Since the 1994 peace treaty, Jordan’s monarchy has adhered to a cold peace with Israel: diplomatic relations, security coordination, and incremental economic deals (like water-for-energy swaps and gas imports). King Abdullah II, like his father King Hussein before him, has seen peace with Israel as a strategic necessity to ensure U.S. support and aid. Indeed, U.S. assistance to Jordan skyrocketed after the peace deal – by 2022, Washington agreed to provide $1.45 billion annually in a memorandum of understanding. For the palace, Israel and the West are guarantors of Jordan’s security and economic lifeline. The average Jordanian, however, sees things very differently. To much of the public, Israel is an oppressor of their Palestinian brethren and an unjust occupier – an enemy, not a partner. Jordanians have watched Israeli governments expand West Bank settlements, clash with Muslim worshippers in Jerusalem’s Al-Aqsa Mosque, and wage repeated wars in Gaza. Each incident reinforces popular disgust not only with Israel, but with Jordan’s government for maintaining ties with it.

The Israel–Hamas war of 2023 brought these contradictions into stark relief. As mentioned, a University of Jordan poll found two-thirds of Jordanians supported Hamas’s attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, even though that attack involved horrific violence against Israeli civilians. This chilling data point underscores just how primed the public is to celebrate anything that hurts Israel – a mood diametrically opposed to the Jordanian government’s official stance condemning terrorism. During the Gaza war, Jordan’s streets roiled with anger; protesters not only denounced Israel but also King Abdullah’s “moderation.” Demonstrators held up posters of Hamas commanders and martyrs  – a direct challenge to the King, who decades earlier expelled Hamas leaders from Jordan and has tightly limited their activities. The message was clear: the Jordanian public’s heroes are the enemies of Israel, and by extension they scorn their own government’s cooperation with Israel.

Even elements of Jordan’s establishment have grown more openly critical. In Parliament (which is usually compliant to the King), members have demanded the expulsion of the Israeli ambassador and cancellation of treaties. In late 2023, under mounting pressure, the government did withdraw its ambassador from Tel Aviv and suspend a major water-for-energy deal with Israel and the UAE. Foreign Minister Ayman Safadi went so far as to state that Israel, as an occupying power, has “no right to self-defence” – extraordinarily harsh words for an official of a peace-treaty partner. These steps, however, were seen as too little, too late by many Jordanians. By early 2024, nightly protests in Amman were still drawing thousands who felt the monarchy’s moves were mere theatrics. Some protesters even tried to march toward the West Bank border to aid Palestinians, only to be stopped by Jordanian security forces. Such scenes – Jordanians attempting to confront Israel directly while their own police block them – epitomize the profound disconnect between ruler and ruled.

This divergence creates a dangerous legitimacy crisis. The monarchy is perceived by a growing portion of its citizens as protecting Israel and the West over fellow Arabs and Muslims. For Islamist opposition groups, especially the Muslim Brotherhood’s political wing, this narrative is a rallying cry. The Islamic Action Front’s gains in the 2024 elections (winning the largest bloc of seats) were attributed in part to public approval of their uncompromising stance on the Gaza war. Islamists are widely viewed, even by non-Islamist Jordanians, as “less corrupt” and more genuine in defending Palestinian rights than the regime’s usual politicians. Nationalist sentiments likewise run hot; many East Bank Jordanians (the traditional bedrock of Hashemite support) are also fervently pro-Palestinian and resent seeing their king appear subservient to Washington and Tel Aviv. In coffeehouses and on social media in Amman, one hears the argument that Jordan should never be made to “pay the price” for Israel’s wars – whether by taking in refugees or by restraining Jordanian volunteers who might want to fight Israel. The notion of “Jordan is Palestine” (an old slogan of hardline Zionists who suggest Jordan should accept Palestinians as its population) is anathema in Jordan; King Abdullah himself publicly vowed “that will never happen”, even as he fears Israel’s far-right politicians aim to revive that idea.

In summary, the Hashemite regime’s alignment with Israel (however lukewarm) versus the Jordanian public’s fierce anti-Israel passion is a fundamental tension. It is not hard to imagine a coup movement framing itself as rectifying this “betrayal.” A junta of nationalist officers could argue the King has sold out Arab dignity and that a new republic will stand proudly against Israel. Likewise, an Islamist uprising could claim religious legitimacy in “liberating” Jordan from a westernized, Israel-friendly court. In either case, the Palestinian issue would be central – both as a motivation for seizing power and as a policy priority for the new regime. Thus, if Jordan falls, we can expect an immediate hard-line turn in its foreign policy vis-à-vis Israel, rooted in the long-suppressed popular will now unleashed.

Prince Hamzah: The Disavowed Heir and Potential Catalyst for Regime Change

Among the many fault lines in Jordan’s ruling family, one stands out for its potential to serve as a symbolic and political rallying point for a regime-changing movement: Prince Hamzah bin Hussein, the former crown prince and half-brother of King Abdullah II. Once seen as the golden boy of the Hashemite dynasty, Hamzah was stripped of his title and placed under house arrest in 2021, following accusations that he was involved in a “sedition plot” to destabilize the kingdom. While King Abdullah publicly framed the affair as a family matter, its political implications were unmistakable.

Hamzah’s popularity stems not just from his charisma and resemblance to his father, King Hussein, but from his vocal criticism of corruption, mismanagement, and repression—critiques that resonate deeply with ordinary Jordanians. His appeals to reform and justice have made him particularly popular among the East Bank tribes, traditionally the monarchy’s power base. By imprisoning him, the regime may have neutralized a threat—but also created a potential martyr or messianic figure for any nationalist, tribalist, or Islamist movement seeking legitimacy.

In a future coup scenario, Hamzah could emerge as either a symbolic figurehead or an active leader, depending on how events unfold. His princely lineage and prior status as crown prince could provide religious and dynastic legitimacy that would be hard for the West to ignore, even if he leads a revolutionary regime. Alternatively, more radical forces might co-opt his image while pushing their own agenda—much as Khomeini was used by various factions during Iran’s 1979 revolution before consolidating power.

A regime with Hamzah at its head could position itself as anti-corruption, pro-Palestine, and authentically Hashemite yet anti-Western—a combination likely to galvanize wide support at home and complicate responses abroad. He is, in short, a wild card whose role in Jordan’s future cannot be dismissed. If the coup is not purely Islamist or nationalist but a broader popular uprising, Hamzah could become its crucible—a prince turned revolutionary, legitimizing the end of a monarchy his own bloodline once built.

Immediate Aftermath: A New Regime in Amman Turns Westward (Against the West)

Should the Hashemite monarchy fall to a coup, the immediate geopolitical aftermath would be dramatic. The new rulers – be they an Islamist coalition or nationalist military junta – would almost certainly pivot Jordan into the camp of anti-Israel, anti-Western actors. Several steps could follow in short order:

• Peace Treaty Nullification: The 1994 Jordan–Israel peace treaty would effectively end. The new regime in Amman, riding a wave of popular jubilation at the “revolution,” would likely expel the Israeli embassy and recall Jordan’s envoy from Israel, formalizing a return to a state of belligerence. Decades of official diplomatic relations would vanish overnight, and with them the frameworks for security coordination. Israel would suddenly lose intelligence-sharing channels and border coordination that helped keep the peace.
• Ejection of U.S. Military Presence: Jordan currently hosts U.S. troops and cooperation programs (including training missions and air defence systems). A hostile post-coup government would likely expel or severely limit U.S. military personnel as part of its anti-Western realignment. In a nationalist narrative, those American soldiers could be painted as violators of sovereignty. The removal of U.S. Patriot missile batteries or other defensive systems in Jordan would alarm Israel, which benefited from them as part of a regional security net.
• Closure of Airspace and Borders to Israel: Jordan might close its airspace to Israeli flights, complicating Israel’s access to the east (for example, Israeli commercial airlines often overfly Jordan en route to Asia). More critically, any overflight rights that Israel quietly enjoyed for military purposes (like surveillance of Iran or access to the Gulf) would cease. Land crossings used for trade and travel (the Allenby/King Hussein Bridge between Jordan and the West Bank, and the Arava crossing near Eilat) would be shut or militarized.
• Economic Ruptures: The new regime would likely halt Jordan’s imports of Israeli natural gas and cancel water-sharing deals, despite the economic pain this might cause domestically. Ideology would trump pragmatism, at least initially, as the leadership would need to solidify legitimacy by rejecting ties with Israel. Jordan might seek alternative patrons (perhaps cheaper oil or aid from sympathetic states like Iran or wealthy Gulf donors who oppose Israel) to offset the loss of Israeli resources and Western aid.
• Internal Consolidation and Realignment: Domestically, the coup leaders would consolidate power, possibly declaring a republic or Islamic state. They would purge officials seen as too pro-West or loyal to the old regime. The security services’ orientation would flip – units that once worked with the CIA and Mossad might now purge pro-monarchy elements and even cooperate with groups formerly deemed enemies (e.g. Islamists or Palestinian militants). The public euphoria at the downfall of the monarchy could soon be tempered by the reality of potential conflict, but initially the regime could rally people with slogans of “resistance.”

In effect, Jordan would become the newest member of the Middle East’s anti-West/anti-Israel bloc. It’s worth noting that the character of the regime (nationalist or Islamist) would shape its alliances. An Islamist government dominated by the Muslim Brotherhood might model itself after the short-lived Egyptian Morsi government of 2012 (though likely far more radical in foreign policy). Such a government could invite exiled Hamas members to reopen offices in Amman, reestablishing Jordan as a rear base for Palestinian Islamist movements. It might also strengthen ties with Turkey and Qatar – countries that, while not militant, have Islamist-leaning governments or sympathies. Conversely, a more secular Arab nationalist junta (perhaps led by military officers) might align closely with Syria or even seek guidance from Russia, echoing the pan-Arab socialist rhetoric of the mid-20th century. In either scenario, Iran would court the new Jordan. Even if ideological differences exist (Sunni Islamists historically distrust Shiite Iran), the shared enemy in Israel could make for expedient alliance. Tehran could offer financial aid (limited as its means are) or oil shipments, as well as military advisors to help “build resistance.”

Crucially, the Israel–Jordan border would no longer be a quiet line on the map, but a potential front line. Almost immediately, Israel would have to redeploy forces to the Jordan Valley and along the length of the frontier. Currently, much of that border is lightly patrolled; suddenly it could need tank battalions and surveillance drones on constant alert. The West Bank, which Jordan borders on the east, becomes even more volatile – any vacuum or chaos in Jordan could allow weapons and fighters to flow into the West Bank. The Palestinian Authority in the West Bank (already weak and facing its own legitimacy crisis) might collapse in the ensuing turbulence, especially if Jordan’s new rulers encourage Palestinian factions to rise up. The prospect of the West Bank turning into a two-front battlefield – with Israeli forces facing insurgency from within and pressure from Jordanian territory without – would edge closer to reality.

In summary, within weeks of Jordan’s fall, the diplomatic architecture of the region would be upended. A once stalwart U.S. partner would transform into a potential adversary. Israel’s strategic calculus would darken considerably, having lost a key ally and buffer. And the stage would be set for regional actors to either jump in or recalibrate their positions in response to this seismic shift.

Iran, Syria, Hezbollah, and Hamas: The Anti-Israel Alliance Tightens

The collapse of Jordan’s pro-Western monarchy would be greeted with undisguised glee in Tehran, Damascus, Beirut (Dahiyeh), and Gaza City – the power centres of Iran and its network of proxy forces. These actors have long sought to encircle Israel with hostile states and militant fronts; the addition of Jordan to their ranks (or even just the removal of Jordan as a friendly buffer for Israel) would significantly enhance their strategic position. We can expect a range of actions from these players in the aftermath:

• Iran: The Iranian regime would likely regard a revolutionary new Jordan as a vindication of its regional strategy to undermine U.S.-aligned governments. Iran might swiftly seek a formal alliance or understanding with Amman. In military terms, Iran could try to transit advanced weapons to Jordanian territory, just as it has done in Syria and Lebanon. For instance, Iran might smuggle missiles or drones to pro-Iranian elements in Jordan (or directly to the new government if it is amenable). This would put Iranian-made missiles much closer to Israel’s heartland; Jerusalem and Tel Aviv could suddenly face threats from the east. During the Gaza conflict in 2023, Iran’s rhetoric was bellicose, but its direct action limited; however, Iranian leaders often invoke the destruction of the “Zionist entity” as a goal. With Jordan in play, Iran could attempt to make that goal more tangible – for example, by establishing Revolutionary Guard advisors on Jordanian soil (as they did in Syria) to help train local “resistance” forces. In one 2024 incident, Iran reportedly fired ballistic missiles over Jordanian airspace toward Israel (during a flare-up in Lebanon), and some Jordanians cheered as missiles flew overhead. That episode highlighted both Iran’s reach and Jordanian public support for armed action against Israel. Post-coup, Iran would no longer need to sneak through Jordanian airspace; it might be invited in.
• Hezbollah (Lebanon): Under Nasrallah’s successor, Naim Qassem, Hezbollah – Iran’s most powerful regional proxy – would be emboldened by an anti-Israel regime in Jordan. Hezbollah has tens of thousands of rockets aimed at Israel from the north; their strategy in a future war has always assumed a multi-front conflict to overwhelm Israel’s defences (Multi-front war with Iran could devastate Israeli economy). If Jordan becomes a staging ground to Israel’s east, Hezbollah may coordinate with whatever forces emerge there to time barrages or incursions simultaneously. We could imagine Hezbollah sending experienced fighters or officers to Jordan as advisors (Nasrallah had cadres who operated in Syria, for instance). At minimum, Hezbollah would applaud Jordan’s turn and use it in propaganda: “Israel is now surrounded by resistance from all sides.” The psychological effect on Israel of losing its one quiet border cannot be overstated – Hezbollah would seek to capitalize on Israeli apprehension. There is also a direct geographical link: Syria. If Iran moves weapons or fighters into southern Syria (where it has some presence) and now has friendly Jordan adjacent, a corridor from Iran->Iraq->Jordan or Iran->Syria->Jordan could form, completing an arc from the Persian Gulf to the Jordan River under Iranian influence.
• Syria (Ex-Assad regime): Following the ousting of Bashar al-Assad in December 2024, Syria has been under the leadership of President Ahmed al-Sharaa and a transitional government. This new administration comprises a diverse cabinet, including technocrats and representatives from various ethnic and religious groups, aiming to stabilize the nation after years of conflict. Despite these internal shifts, Syria remains technically at war with Israel. The recent Israeli airstrikes on Syrian military targets, including bases in Hama and near Damascus, underscore the ongoing tensions. Additionally, Israel has established a significant military presence in southern Syria, further complicating the regional dynamics. If an anti-Israel government were to emerge in Jordan, Syria’s response would likely be influenced by its current leadership’s strategic objectives and alliances. President al-Sharaa’s administration, while focused on internal stabilization and rebuilding, might consider pragmatic coordination with neighbouring regimes that share a common adversary in Israel. Such collaboration could involve military-to-military contacts, potentially mediated by influential regional actors like Iran or Russia. In this context, Syria could facilitate the movement of hostile forces toward the Golan Heights, leveraging Jordan’s engagement on the eastern front to apply pressure on Israel from multiple directions. Alternatively, if Jordan’s new regime aligns more closely with nationalist ideologies similar to Syria’s current government, the two nations might form a strategic alliance reminiscent of past pan-Arab military cooperations. This could lead to coordinated military actions, with Syrian forces focusing on the Golan front and Jordanian units targeting the West Bank.​Even in the absence of a formal alliance, Syria might permit the transit of Iranian reinforcements through its territory into Jordan, thereby strengthening the eastern front against Israel. Such developments would significantly alter the regional power balance and pose substantial challenges to Israel’s security apparatus.​
• Hamas and Palestinian Militants: Perhaps no group would rejoice more at a friendly Jordan than Hamas. Ever since the Black September conflict of 1970, when the PLO was expelled from Jordan, Palestinian fighters have lacked a significant foothold to Israel’s east. A new Jordan might reverse that historical eviction. Hamas leaders exiled from Qatar or elsewhere could establish offices in Amman. Training camps for Palestinian fighters could crop up in the Jordanian desert – or even in the north near the border, though Israel would strike those immediately if detected. The porous Jordan-West Bank border (much of it along the Jordan River valley) could become a sieve for weapons. Where the current Jordanian army works with Israel to interdict smuggling, a new Jordanian army might facilitate it. The West Bank’s Palestinian population could be armed and aided in an uprising against Israeli control, with Jordan serving as the rear base. Hamas, Palestinian Islamic Jihad, and other factions would gain strategic depth and supply lines that are currently largely cut off. It’s conceivable that Hamas could even send units to fight alongside Jordanians in a future war. During the Gaza war of 2023, Hamas’s strategy was constrained by geography – they are isolated in Gaza. But if they had an ally in Jordan, Hamas could plan operations involving infiltration from Jordan into the West Bank or Israel’s heartland. Essentially, Jordan could become to the West Bank what Syria has been to Lebanon’s Hezbollah – a supportive neighbour that allows a resistance front to flourish.
• Other “Axis of Resistance” Players: Beyond the main four (Iran, Hezbollah, Syria, Hamas), other actors hostile to Israel would also take initiative. Iraqi Shi’ite militias, many of which are under Iran’s umbrella, could volunteer to send fighters or rockets through Jordan. During the 2023 conflict, Iranian-linked militias in Iraq and Yemen did fire some drones and rockets toward Israel (the Houthi rebels in Yemen launched missiles that were intercepted by U.S. ships) (Iran’s Multi-Front War on Israel – AIPAC). With Jordan in friendly hands, Iraqi militants might travel to Jordan to join a campaign against Israel – echoing 1948, when Arab volunteers from Iraq and elsewhere came to fight in Palestine. Al-Qaeda or ISIS remnants are less likely to cooperate (they consider Shia Iran and groups like Hezbollah as apostates), but a vacuum in Jordan could attract jihadist elements too, further complicating the security picture. However, in a scenario of a strongly controlled new regime, those groups might be suppressed or co-opted to focus on Israel.

In summary, the fall of Jordan would complete an encirclement of Israel by hostile forces – from the north (Lebanon/Syria), the west (Gaza), and now the east (Jordan/West Bank), in addition to existing threats from the south (periodic Sinai jihadists or Houthi missiles from Yemen). Iran’s long-standing goal of a united regional front against Israel would take a giant leap forward. Israeli military planners have warned for years of the danger of a multi-front war.

Without Jordan’s cooperation, that multi-front scenario goes from theoretical to imminent. Israel would face the nightmare of simultaneous rocket barrages from multiple directions, mass infiltration attempts, and the logistical strain of mobilizing forces on every border. As one Israeli analysis presciently noted, “along [Israel’s] longest frontier and narrowest dimension, [it] would be confronted with a huge expanse of hostile territory” if Jordan flipped. This is the strategic peril that Jordan’s collapse would pose – a peril that Israel might be hard-pressed to survive without extraordinary measures.

Riyadh and Cairo in the Crosswinds: Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Former U.S. Allies

A Jordanian regime change would also profoundly impact the calculations of other Arab states, especially those traditionally aligned with the U.S. and at peace (or cold peace) with Israel. Chief among these are Saudi Arabia and Egypt, as well as smaller Gulf states like the UAE and Bahrain that recently pursued normalization with Israel. These countries would have to choose whether to accommodate the rising anti-Israel tide or to resist it (and thus possibly face internal backlash).

Saudi Arabia

In the years leading up to 2025, Saudi Arabia under Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS) has been juggling two impulses: warming ties with Israel (as seen in quiet security contacts and talk of a possible Saudi–Israel normalization deal) versus satisfying its domestic and regional image as leader of the Muslim world defending Palestinian rights.

A collapse of the Jordanian monarchy – especially if it comes with a surge of Islamist sentiment – would jolt Saudi calculations. On one hand, the fall of a fellow monarchy to an Islamist or populist revolt would alarm MBS. The House of Saud would see an existential warning: if a well-established monarchy like the Hashemites can be overthrown by popular anger, the same could threaten them. This might make Riyadh double down on authoritarian control at home (to pre-empt any similar uprising) and crack down on Islamist groups with renewed vigour. It could also push Saudi closer to Israel in a quiet security sense, as both would share an enemy in a radical new Jordan.

On the other hand, MBS must contend with public opinion and regional dynamics. The Saudi public, like others, is strongly pro-Palestinian; a Jordan aligned against Israel could increase pressure on the Saudi leadership to at least appear supportive of the “resistance” cause. We might see Saudi Arabia pivot rhetorically against Israel – for instance, halting any normalization overtures and vociferously condemning Israeli actions – to appease popular opinion and to avoid being isolated among Arab states. Riyadh could offer financial aid to the new Jordanian regime (especially if it’s not Muslim Brotherhood dominated – since MBS views the Brotherhood as a threat, he might prefer a nationalist Jordanian junta to an Islamist one).

If Iran’s influence in Jordan grows, Saudi Arabia might engage in a proxy competition, funnelling money to tribes or factions in Jordan that counter Iran’s proxies, in effect turning Jordan into another theatre of the Saudi-Iran rivalry (similar to Yemen or Syria, but now on Saudi’s northwest border). Importantly, Saudi Arabia’s recent rapprochement with Iran (the 2023 Beijing-brokered deal) shows MBS’s pragmatic side – he might attempt some accommodation, but a Jordan that’s openly hostile to the U.S. and Israel could push Saudi Arabia to strengthen ties with China and Russia for security guarantees, as U.S. influence wanes.

Egypt

Egypt shares a border with Israel and, like Jordan, has a peace treaty (since 1979) – albeit a very cold one. President Abdel Fattah al-Sisi’s regime is fiercely anti-Islamist (having ousted the Muslim Brotherhood government in 2013) and has cooperated with Israel on containing Hamas in Gaza.

A revolution in Jordan could send chills through Cairo’s halls of power. If an Islamist wave sweeps Jordan, Egyptian Islamists (the Brotherhood and more radical offshoots) would be invigorated. Sisi would likely crack down pre-emptively on any signs of Muslim Brotherhood resurgence at home, perhaps arresting organizers and tightening emergency laws, claiming to thwart “foreign plots” to replicate Jordan’s events.

Concurrently, Egypt might reassess its stance toward Israel. During the Gaza 2023 war, Egypt’s government walked a fine line – opening Rafah crossing sporadically for aid but refusing to take in Palestinian refugees (fearing an influx could embolden Hamas in Sinai or undermine the Palestinian cause by emptying Gaza). If Jordan turns hostile to Israel, Egypt might feel compelled to show solidarity to avoid being seen as the only Arab neighbour still formally at peace with Israel. This could mean Egypt’s diplomatic cooperation with Israel diminishes further; intelligence sharing on Sinai/Gaza might suffer if Egyptian public pressure mounts on Sisi to distance himself from Israel. In an extreme scenario, if a regional war erupts involving Jordan, popular opinion in Egypt could push the government to provide at least logistical support to the anti-Israel coalition (for example, allowing volunteer fighters to transit, or turning a blind eye to arms smuggling across the Sinai to Gaza).

However, Sisi would also be wary: openly joining a war against Israel would risk Egypt’s U.S. aid and military superiority. More likely, Egypt would quietly prepare its military for any spillover – positioning troops near Sinai and the Israeli border in case conflict spreads, but not initiating hostilities unless provoked. The peace treaty with Israel would probably remain in place de jure, but could be politically frozen (no high-level contacts, a return to the post-1979 Arab League ostracism of Egypt scenario, except now Israel would be the one isolated).

Other Gulf States and Allies

The United Arab Emirates and Bahrain, which signed the Abraham Accords with Israel in 2020, would face a tough choice. They have enjoyed the economic and tech benefits of ties with Israel, but their populations remain pro-Palestinian. A new wave of Arab solidarity against Israel might force these small states to scale back visible relations with Israel, at least temporarily. We could see UAE suspend some cooperation projects or Bahrain quietly urging Israel to close its office, to mollify public opinion and avoid angering bigger neighbours in the new Arab consensus.

Qatar, which already supports Hamas and maintains ties with Iran, would strongly back the new Jordan (perhaps providing economic aid to help it survive sanctions). Oman and Kuwait, both of which kept a distance from Israel, would align with the broader Arab stance condemning Israel’s “aggression” and supporting Jordan’s new stance.

In essence, a domino effect could take hold: as Jordan goes, so goes the regional mood. Countries that were inching toward Israel would reverse course. The nascent anti-Iran Arab-Israeli alignment (which Israel had hoped to build to counter Iran) would evaporate, replaced by an Arab-Islamic alignment against Israel. This doesn’t mean all these states would go to war with Israel – most would not risk direct conflict – but Israel would lose the tacit diplomatic and economic ties that had been burgeoning.

Strategically, Israel could find itself nearly isolated in the region, with only perhaps some cautious partnerships remaining (maybe with Morocco or some East African states). Even Turkey, a NATO member that has had an ambivalent relationship with Israel, might lean into a harsher anti-Israel posture if the winds in the Muslim world are blowing that way.

From the U.S. perspective, this would be a nightmare. Washington’s whole Middle East policy in recent years aimed at expanding the circle of peace around Israel (through normalization deals) and containing Iran. A hostile Jordan pulling Saudi and Egypt along (even if just diplomatically) would mark the collapse of American influence among the Arab states. Washington would then have to scramble to preserve what it could – perhaps doubling down on ties with the Gulf monarchies that remain pro-West (like the UAE) or Israel itself – but the overall trend could mirror the 1970s post-Yom Kippur War period, when Arab states united behind an oil embargo and the U.S. faced a hostile Arab front. In the late 2020s replay, we might see oil politics again (though Gulf states need oil revenue, they could still leverage production to send messages). At minimum, the U.S.’s hope of steering a coalition with Saudi and Jordan against Iran would be dashed, and instead the U.S. might be contending against a coalition including those countries.

Great-Power Competition: Russia and China Weigh In

The turmoil following Jordan’s fall would also draw in the world’s great powers – not as direct combatants, but as powerful backers and influencers of the regional alignment. Russia and China in particular may see strategic opportunity in an anti-Western shift in the Middle East, while the United States (and Europe) would face the daunting task of shoring up an eroding order far from their shores.

During the Soviet era, Moscow strongly supported revolutionary regimes at odds with pro-Western conservative ones in the region.

Russia

Moscow has a long history in the Middle East, dating back to Soviet times when it armed radical Arab regimes and championed Arab causes against Western-backed Israel. As one analysis notes, “during the Soviet era, Moscow strongly supported revolutionary regimes at odds with pro-Western conservative ones in the region” (The Soviet Roots of Putin’s Foreign Policy Toward the Middle East). Putin’s Russia, while not driven by communist ideology, still often positions itself as a patron of those opposing U.S. hegemony. We already see this in Syria, where Russian military intervention saved Assad’s regime and established permanent Russian bases, and in Iran, where Russia has forged a partnership of convenience (including arms sales and coordination in Syria).

If Jordan flips to an anti-West stance, Russia would likely extend a hand quickly. This could take several forms. Diplomatically, Russia would use its UN Security Council veto to shield the new Jordanian regime from any punitive measures (for instance, if Western nations pushed sanctions or a UN peacekeeping force on Israel’s border, Russia could block it). Militarily, Russia might offer arms and training to Jordan’s new army – perhaps sending advanced air defences or aircraft, if the new regime can pay (or via favourable loans/barter). Even the stationing of Russian “advisors” in Jordan is conceivable, especially if the U.S. has withdrawn. Such a move would echo Cold War deployments and would severely worry Washington and Jerusalem. We could imagine a scenario where Russian S-400 air defence batteries are set up in Jordan, ostensibly to protect its airspace from Israeli or American incursions. That would complicate any Israeli pre-emptive strikes.

Additionally, Russia could intensify support to Iran and Syria, knowing that a stronger Iranian-led front against Israel indirectly weakens U.S. influence. Already by 2024, Iran and Russia were exchanging military support (Iran providing drones for Russia’s Ukraine war, Russia potentially giving fighter jets to Iran). In a Middle East crisis, Russia might encourage Iran to be bold, promising diplomatic cover. However, Russia would also be cautious not to be sucked into a direct confrontation with the U.S. – its involvement would likely be calibrated proxy support, aiming to increase Moscow’s leverage.

If conflict escalated, Russia might position itself as a mediator ironically, leveraging its ties to all parties (Russia talks to Israel, Iran, and now maybe Jordan) to negotiate a ceasefire that elevates Russia’s status as powerbroker. One strategic benefit for Moscow in a prolonged Israel-vs-multiple-enemies war is distraction: the U.S. would be diverted from focusing on Europe (Ukraine) or other theatres, relieving pressure on Russia.

China

Beijing’s approach would be subtler but significant. China’s interest in the Middle East is primarily economic (energy security) and strategic (expanding its influence as the U.S. influence wanes). Chinese strategists have observed that Middle Eastern societies have grown increasingly anti-Western and disillusioned with the U.S., partly due to “continued support for Israel” by the West. Beijing sees this trend as an “opening” to present itself as an alternative partner.

In a scenario where Jordan and possibly other Arab states pivot away from the U.S., China would likely step in to offer economic lifelines. The new Jordanian regime, having lost Western aid, might eagerly embrace China’s investments or infrastructure projects. China could expand its Belt and Road Initiative projects in Jordan – building roads, rail, and industrial parks – thereby gaining influence and goodwill. Politically, China would support Jordan (and the Palestinian cause) in international forums, boosting its credentials in the Arab and Muslim world. However, China typically avoids getting entangled in military conflicts far from home. So, while it might veto anti-Jordan or anti-Palestinian measures at the UN and provide surveillance or cyber technology to Jordan’s government, it is unlikely to send troops or directly arm Jordan against Israel (unless through discreet arms sales of drones or missiles for profit).

Interestingly, China has relationships with Israel too (tech and trade), so Beijing might try to maintain a balancing act: calling for ceasefires, respecting Israel’s right to exist in principle, but firmly opposing U.S. “interference” or Israeli “aggression” in practice. If the U.S. were to consider direct military involvement to save Israel, China (and Russia) would probably issue stark warnings about respecting sovereignty and avoiding escalation – effectively diplomatic deterrence against Western intervention. Meanwhile, Chinese media and diplomacy would likely echo Russian in blaming U.S. policies for the crisis and casting the new Jordanian and allied stance as a justified reaction to Western double standards.

The United States and Europe

The U.S., as Israel’s chief ally, would be at the centre of the counter-response. Washington would face a devastating blow to its Middle East architecture – losing Jordan and seeing Saudi and Egypt drift. If Jordan were to fall under Islamist rule, it would immediately create a dramatically widened theater of conflict, which would present an unprecedented strategic nightmare for the United States and Europe. Historically labeled the “graveyard of empires,” the Middle East has proven repeatedly that foreign military interventions, regardless of their scale, funding, or initial public support, inevitably falter under the region’s complex tapestry of religious devotion, cultural resistance, and nationalistic fervor.

Notwithstanding, in the short term, the U.S. would likely surge support to Israel. We could expect emergency arms shipments, missile defence reinforcements (more Iron Dome and possibly THAAD systems deployed to Israel or remaining allied territories), and intelligence support to monitor threats. U.S. naval and air assets would be moved into the Eastern Mediterranean and Red Sea as a show of force – similar to how the U.S. dispatched carrier strike groups during the 2023 Gaza war to deter Hezbollah and Iran from entering the fray.

The question of direct U.S. military intervention would loom if Israel’s existence appeared truly at risk. Would the United States actually send troops to fight for Israel on multiple fronts? Politically, that would be a hard sell domestically, especially if the U.S. is also in a standoff with China or still aiding Ukraine. Yet an Israel facing annihilation is a scenario that past U.S. administrations have prepared for (reports suggest in 1973 Nixon even considered putting U.S. forces on alert when Israel feared collapse). By 2025–2030, the U.S. public may be war-weary, but bipartisan support for Israel in Congress remains robust.

Perhaps a middle ground would emerge: U.S. airpower intervening (e.g., strikes on Iranian convoys or militias) without a large ground deployment, combined with a massive airlift evacuation of civilians if needed. European allies, while supportive diplomatically, have limited military reach in the region – Britain or France might send naval forces or some aircraft, but NATO as a whole would be divided. Europe’s priority may be to prevent a wider war (and a potential energy crisis if oil supply is hit). They might press for negotiations, even talking to Russia/China to mediate.

At the same time, the U.S. would try to prevent further dominoes. Washington might bolster the Gulf monarchies that remain pro-West (with defence systems and assurances to the UAE, Qatar, Kuwait, etc., to ward off Iranian intimidation). It could also quietly support any internal opposition to the new Jordanian regime – for example, arming anti-Islamist tribes or encouraging a countercoup if feasible. Such cloak-and-dagger efforts would be risky and could backfire, but the CIA has a long history in the region.

In this great-power contest, one must also consider Israel’s own nuclear arsenal. Israel has an undeclared nuclear capability presumed to be a deterrent of last resort. If Israeli leaders feel that a coalition of Iran, Arab states, and great-power backers is about to destroy the state, the spectre of nuclear escalation appears. The U.S. would be in the awkward position of restraining Israel from going nuclear while also trying to save Israel conventionally.

Russia and China would loudly warn against any nuclear use (which could devastate the region and global stability). This facet raises the stakes of great-power involvement: an Israel–Arab war has the potential to draw in nuclear powers indirectly. So, all sides would have reason to calibrate their involvement to avoid crossing certain red lines, even as they push hard within those bounds.

In sum, Jordan’s fall could transform the Middle East from a secondary theatre of U.S.–Russia–China competition into a primary one. Russia and China would seize the chance to expand influence and diminish the West’s standing, aligning with the “resistance” front politically and economically. The U.S., suddenly on the back foot, would be scrambling to project strength and protect its ally Israel with limited tools. This big-power backdrop could either accelerate a spiral toward a wider war or help contain it (if, for instance, Washington and Moscow tacitly agree to localize the conflict to avoid world war). The outcome would hinge on crisis management and whether one domino (Jordan) triggers an uncontrolled chain reaction or a managed reshuffling of the deck with new great-power guarantors.

The Tipping Point: When One Domino Changes Everything

History is replete with instances where a single geopolitical shift tipped the balance between wider war and peace, or between survival and destruction for states. The collapse of Jordan’s monarchy would be precisely such a tipping point in the Middle East. For decades, the region’s stability (such as it is) has rested on a series of understandings and alignments – many informal – that kept outright cataclysm at bay. Jordan’s peace with Israel, while not often in headlines, has been one of those quiet linchpins. If that linchpin is removed, the entire structure of regional security could wobble and collapse.

One can draw analogies to the outbreak of World War I: a relatively small event (the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in 1914) triggered alliance mechanisms and set off a global conflagration. Jordan may not have formal defence pacts drawing others in automatically, but its fall would serve as a catalyst for latent tensions to explode. In war, as in chemistry, the right catalyst can turn a stable compound into an explosive mixture. Here, the mix includes decades of Arab–Israeli enmity, sectarian divides, great-power rivalries, and domestic pressures in multiple countries – all held in a precarious equilibrium. The introduction of a revolutionary Jordan, espousing all the pent-up anger of the Arab street, could ignite this mix.

Consider Israel’s situation: With Jordan stable, Israel could manage one front at a time (Gaza in 2021, Lebanon threats in isolation, etc.). But with Jordan hostile, Israel faces simultaneity of threats. It’s the difference between a series of boxing matches versus being jumped by multiple opponents at once. Israeli military doctrine has warned of the “multi-front war” for good reason – Israel is small and densely populated, making it acutely vulnerable to being overwhelmed if attacked from several sides.

Up until now, the peace with Egypt and Jordan ensured that any war would be limited to maybe two fronts (Lebanon/Syria in the north and Gaza in the south-west, as in 2023). The loss of Jordan adds a third major front in the east, and potentially galvanizes the West Bank as an internal fourth front. In such a scenario, even Israel’s advanced forces and missile defences could be stretched to a breaking point. Sometimes a nation’s survival hinges on not facing all its enemies at once; the fall of Jordan threatens to remove that luxury from Israel.

From a regional stability perspective, Jordan’s collapse would likely mark the definitive end of the post-1970s order in the Middle East. The Camp David Accords (Egypt-Israel peace 1978), the Madrid/Oslo peace process of the 1990s, and the more recent Abraham Accords were all steps that integrated Israel into the region diplomatically. Jordan’s peace was a crucial part of that trend. If that domino falls, it’s not hard to imagine the reversal of peace treaties and normalization elsewhere – a cascade of states pulling back into confrontation stances. Regional stability could unravel as quickly as a thread snagged on a nail: once tugged, the whole tapestry comes apart.

There is also the psychological tipping point. The narrative of inevitable conflict versus the possibility of coexistence swings dramatically depending on events. If Jordan were taken over by forces openly vowing to fight Israel, it could tip regional mindsets toward a war footing. Those Arabs who felt accommodation with Israel was possible would be discredited; the hardliners would say “we told you so – only resistance works.” In Israel, the opposite psychological effect occurs: the peace camp, already weakened, would vanish, and the nation would likely move to a total war mentality, feeling existentially cornered. The moderation and diplomacy that prevented the worst outcomes in past crises might evaporate on both sides, making the slide into all-out war even harder to halt.

In war and peace, sometimes “for want of a nail, the kingdom was lost.” Jordan might seem like a relatively small piece in the global puzzle, but in the Middle Eastern context it is a critical nail holding the scaffold of peace around Israel. If that nail is gone, the last restraint on forces of chaos could be removed. As we move to scenario analysis, keep in mind how this single domino – Jordan’s stability – can tip the entire balance from a tenuous status quo into potentially unrestrained conflict.

Scenario Analysis 2025–2030: What If Jordan Falls?

To crystallize the potential outcomes of Jordan’s collapse, we present three scenarios: a best-case, a worst-case, and a most likely case. These scenarios assume a coup or collapse in Jordan occurs in the mid-late 2020s and then project how events might unfold by 2030.

Scenario 1: Containment and Cold War, Not Regional Armageddon

In the best-case scenario, Jordan’s monarchy is indeed overthrown and a new regime hostile to Israel takes power, but the ensuing fallout is contained short of a full-scale regional war. The new Jordanian leadership, after some initial inflammatory moves (e.g. cutting ties with Israel), faces the practical limits of governance. Realizing that an immediate war with Israel would be devastating, they opt for a strategy of “slow resistance” rather than direct confrontation. Jordan provides moral and logistical support to Palestinian militants (allowing some weapons to trickle into the West Bank, granting Hamas offices in Amman), but it avoids sending its army into battle. Israel, for its part, reinforces its borders and carries out a few cross-border airstrikes on militant convoys, but refrains from a wider invasion of Jordan so as not to escalate. A tense cold war settles in.

Other regional actors also exercise relative restraint. Hezbollah and Iran, while thrilled with Jordan’s turn, hold off on launching an all-out offensive. They continue military buildups and occasionally test Israel’s defences (minor skirmishes at the Lebanon border, sporadic rocket fire), but they are deterred by the visible presence of U.S. naval power offshore and quiet warnings from Russia that a big war could spin out of control. Saudi Arabia and Egypt, though distancing themselves further from Israel, focus on internal stability and do not join any military coalition. They provide just enough financial aid to Jordan to keep its economy from collapsing completely, hoping to prevent refugee flows or chaos on their borders.

Great-power involvement in this scenario helps stabilize the situation: Russia mediates secret talks between Israel and the new Jordan to delineate red lines (e.g. Israel won’t invade Jordan if Jordan reins in the most extreme militants). China steps in economically, investing in Jordan’s infrastructure, which incidentally gives Amman an incentive to avoid getting bombed by provoking Israel too much. The United States, while unhappy with Jordan’s new orientation, continues intelligence cooperation with Israel and bolsters Israeli defences to deter any adventurous moves by the Jordanian regime or its allies. European diplomats push for a new regional peace initiative, perhaps unrealistic, but their engagement provides face-saving off-ramps for all sides to claim they are pursuing “diplomacy.”

By 2030 in this scenario, a “Cold Peace” (or cold conflict) exists: Israel and its neighbours (including Jordan) are not in active war, but relations are hostile and heavily militarized. Jordan has aligned somewhat with Iran’s camp but also keeps a degree of independence (the Jordanian regime perhaps playing Iran and the Gulf against each other to secure aid from both). Israel remains secure behind fortified borders, though terrorism and clashes occur regularly at low levels. The Palestinian issue is again at an impasse, but an intifada in the West Bank fizzles without full external support. Essentially, the worst – a multi-front war – is averted, but a chill reminiscent of the Arab-Israeli conflict’s darkest decades prevails. The region muddles through, scarred but not engulfed.

Scenario 2: Regional War and the Decimation of Israel

In the worst-case scenario, Jordan’s fall acts as the spark that ignites a regional conflagration of unprecedented scope, leading to the attempted destruction of Israel and massive devastation across multiple countries. The timeline might unfold as follows: Jordan’s new regime, driven by revolutionary zeal and under pressure from jubilant masses, immediately joins an offensive alliance with Iran, Hezbollah, and Hamas. By mid-2025, coordinated attacks on Israel begin. Hezbollah rains down thousands of rockets from Lebanon; Hamas and Islamic Jihad launch a renewed uprising from Gaza and the West Bank (now flush with arms coming through Jordan). Simultaneously, units of the Jordanian Army – now rebranded as a “Liberation Army” – mass on Israel’s eastern border, skirmishing with Israeli troops along the Jordan River. Syria allows Iraqi Shi’ite militia brigades and even some Syrian army units to push through southern Syria into Jordan to bolster the eastern front.

Israel is confronted with an existential crisis: three major fronts (north, south, east) erupt in flames, plus serious internal unrest among some Israeli Arab communities and the Palestinians in the West Bank. Despite full mobilization, the Israel Defence Forces are stretched thin. The Iron Dome and other air defences intercept many missiles but are overwhelmed by sheer volume and preexisting malfunctions – major Israeli cities take hits, with significant casualties and infrastructure damage. The Israeli Air Force strikes back fiercely, bombing targets in Lebanon, Gaza, and Jordan alike. Amman and Damascus suffer heavy damage from Israeli missiles. But Israel’s punitive power only galvanizes its opponents further – images of Arab civilian casualties rally more fighters to join the war.

By 2027, the conflict escalates: Iran directly enters by firing medium-range missiles and drones at Israel (some via Iraq or the Red Sea). The U.S., under a perhaps reluctant administration, intervenes to some degree – maybe American drones and aircraft target Iranian missile sites or Iran-linked convoys to Jordan. This invites Russian condemnation; Russia responds by rushing advanced anti-air systems to Syria and Jordan, and providing satellite intelligence to the anti-Israel coalition. China quietly provides Iran with financial relief to withstand sanctions during the war and steps up oil purchases as others embargo the region’s oil. Global oil prices skyrocket, throwing the world economy into turmoil.

On the ground, a breach occurs: a multi-front push in 2028 sees Hezbollah fighters and Iranian special forces crossing into northern Israel, while Jordanian armoured columns (possibly with some Iraqi militia support) cross the Jordan River in the east. Street fighting erupts in Israeli border towns. Israel, facing the greatest threat to its existence since 1948, considers the unthinkable – the use of tactical nuclear weapons to stop the invasion. A nuclear strike by Israel on a convoy in the sparsely populated Jordanian desert or a base in southern Lebanon cannot be ruled out in this worst case. Once that threshold is crossed, panic grips the world. The U.S. and Russia engage in a frantic diplomatic scramble to prevent full nuclear war. They force a ceasefire, but the damage is done.

The outcome by 2030: Israel as we know it is gravely wounded, if not functionally decimated. Its economy is shattered from years of war and bombardment. Hundreds of thousands of Israelis have fled abroad (those who could). Casualties are in the tens of thousands. Parts of Tel Aviv, Haifa, and other cities lie in ruins from missile hits. While Israel’s military remains intact enough to avoid total occupation, it has lost control of peripheral areas. Perhaps Hezbollah holds parts of the far north, while a new Palestinian guerrilla zone festers in the West Bank with Jordanian “volunteers” present. The Israeli populace is traumatized and politically radicalized, possibly giving rise to even more extreme leadership vowing vengeance. On the other side, Jordan, Lebanon, Gaza, and Syria have been pounded relentlessly by Israeli retaliation; entire cities (Amman, Beirut, Gaza City, Damascus) bear the scars of airstrikes. Jordan’s experiment with Islamist/nationalist rule ends up costing its people dearly in blood and infrastructure.

This worst-case war leaves a generation of enmity and no clear victor. Israel survives physically but is a shell of its former self – its sense of security utterly gone, its global standing complicated by any nuclear use, and its population dwindling. Arab states, even those not directly in the war, suffer economic collapse from the conflict and oil crises. The United States and Russia come perilously close to direct conflict at times (perhaps a dogfight incident over Syria or a naval standoff in the Mediterranean), and the great-power tensions reach heights not seen since the Cuban Missile Crisis. In essence, the worst case sees a Middle East catastrophe: the end of the two-state peace paradigm, massive loss of life, and Israel’s position potentially reduced to a besieged garrison state fighting for mere survival.

Scenario 3: Protracted Instability and Near-Misses

The most likely scenario, falling between the extremes, would involve a prolonged period of instability and sporadic conflict, but not necessarily a decisive, all-out war. In this scenario, Jordan’s fall happens (say in 2025 -2026) and it indeed shifts the strategic balance, yet various constraints and deterrents prevent the situation from exploding into the absolute worst case of regional Armageddon. Instead, the region endures a kind of violent uncertainty through 2030 – multiple crises, contained conflicts, and ever-present risk of wider war, but also efforts to pull back from the brink.

A plausible sequence: Jordan’s new regime cuts ties with Israel and aligns with the “Resistance Axis,” but initially focuses on consolidating power internally. Skirmishes with Israel are limited to border incidents and support for proxy forces. A serious crisis is likely to erupt in Jerusalem or the West Bank – perhaps spurred by an inflammatory incident at the Al-Aqsa Mosque or an Israeli move (like settlement expansion or an annexation attempt). This triggers a subsequent Palestinian uprising, which Jordan (behind the scenes) materially supports. Israel cracks down in the West Bank and perhaps strikes sites in Jordan it suspects of arming militants. Jordan and Israel come to the brink of open war, but back-channel communications via the U.S. and moderate Arab intermediaries (maybe the UAE or Qatar) impose a de-escalation. A ceasefire or new status quo is established, though tensions remain sky-high.

Meanwhile, Hezbollah and Israel might fight a contained war in Lebanon around the same time – worse than the 2006 war but shorter than an all-out invasion. Israel might pre-emptively strike some Hezbollah infrastructure fearing the new eastern threat has emboldened the group. A ferocious exchange ensues for a few weeks, and then international pressure (and the combatants’ exhaustion) ends it. The result is heavy damage in Lebanon and northern Israel, but not regime change for either side. Jordan’s role in that conflict is limited to rhetoric and perhaps allowing some militias to transit to help Hezbollah (which Israel notices but tolerates to avoid widening the fight to Jordan).

By 2028–2029, the cumulative effect of these flare-ups is that Israel is under a semi-siege: it remains militarily powerful but must constantly be on alert. Its economy suffers from mobilizations and loss of foreign investment due to war risk. Jordan’s economy also struggles badly without Western aid, but it receives just enough from sympathetic states (and trades more with China/Russia) to avoid total collapse. There might even be internal unrest in Jordan against the new regime when living standards drop – ironically, the coup leaders could face protests just as the old king did, though these might be suppressed violently.

Saudi Arabia and Egypt in this scenario quietly play double roles – publicly they support the Palestinian cause and keep Israel at arm’s length, but privately they coordinate with the U.S. and even Israel to ensure things don’t spiral. For example, Saudi might share intelligence on Iranian arms shipments, or Egypt might continue quietly restricting Hamas despite public outrage. Their fundamental interest in avoiding a region-wide war keeps them behaving cautiously.

Internationally, diplomacy intermittently intervenes. Perhaps a new U.S. administration in 2029 convenes a peace conference including the new Jordan to negotiate some kind of hudna (truce) between Israel and the “coalition.” The talks might not yield a true peace, but could lead to understandings that reduce violence for a time. By 2030, the Middle East is in a new normal of heightened hostility but managed conflict. Jordan is firmly in the Iran-led camp, but that camp and Israel have found a grim equilibrium of deterrence. Israel remains intact – bloodied by constant low-level conflict, but with its core institutions and military strength maintained. The notion of a two-state peace deal is dead, replaced by a cold conflict between Israel and a loose alliance of Palestinians, Jordanians, Lebanese Hezbollah, and others. Yet none of Israel’s adversaries have delivered a knockout blow, nor has Israel been able to neutralize them, leading to a protracted stalemate.

In this most likely scenario, life for ordinary people across the region is difficult and insecure, but the absolute worst outcomes (like nuclear war) have been avoided. It is, essentially, a picture of a Middle East that has regressed to a more dangerous version of the pre-1990s status quo – blocs at odds, occasional wars, but no definitive resolution.

Scenario 4: The Apocalyptic Collapse of Israel and the Return of a Free Palestine

While often dismissed as unthinkable, one cannot rule out a scenario where the confluence of military encirclement, internal collapse, and global disengagement leads to the destruction of Israel as a state. In this apocalyptic outcome, the fall of Jordan ignites a chain reaction so fierce and coordinated that Israel is overwhelmed on multiple fronts—a scenario not even the worst-case forecast fully prepares for.

In this vision, Israel’s attempt to suppress the wave of Islamist and nationalist revolts across Gaza, Lebanon, the West Bank, and Jordan fails spectacularly. The IDF is drawn into urban combat on multiple fronts while suffering mass casualties from drones, missile swarms, and insurgencies. A possible pre-emptive nuclear strike, if not thwarted by global powers or sabotaged from within, turns global opinion violently against Israel. European states, already strained by refugee crises and Islamist backlash from their own Arab communities, find themselves unable to contain domestic unrest and begin distancing themselves diplomatically.

By 2029, the already fragile Israeli state begins to completely implode—Arab-Israeli civil disobedience, loss of international legitimacy, and economic freefall combine to create political chaos. Western powers, especially the U.S., either pull back in fear of wider escalation with Russia/China or are too internally divided to act decisively. A transitional Palestinian authority, backed by new regional powers (perhaps even a Jordan-Syria-Palestine federation), declares a return of the State of Palestine. The Israeli population flees en masse to Europe and the U.S., triggering a massive political backlash in Western capitals.

The fallout is global. Europe descends into cultural and political crisis as a mix of Jewish refugees, emboldened Islamists, and angry nationalists collide. Right-wing and far-left factions radicalize, economies tank, and a cultural civil war brews within the European Union itself. Meanwhile, the United States faces global condemnation, blamed by allies and adversaries alike for decades of blind support to a state that many now see unilaterally as the aggressor. Russia and China present themselves as “peace brokers,” having aided in Israel’s containment and offering humanitarian aid while Western democracies collapse into recrimination and paralysis.

In this darkest timeline, the Middle East enters a new post-Israel order—but not one of peace. Instead, it becomes a zone of competing Islamist factions, fractured governance, and uncontrollable reverberations across Europe and Asia. Palestine may have returned, but the world it inhabits is a dangerously unstable one—and the legacy of this apocalypse will haunt the West for generations.

Conclusion

The prospect of Jordan falling to a coup and pivoting against Israel in a “domino” scenario – one that policymakers in Tel Aviv, Washington, and Amman itself have doubtless contemplated with dread. As we have seen, such a development would reverberate through every facet of Middle Eastern geopolitics: shifting alliances, emboldening Iran and its proxies, pressuring Saudi Arabia and Egypt into hard choices, inviting Russia and China to extend their shadow over the region, and confronting Israel with the kind of encirclement that could prove existential.

Yet, as with all hypotheticals, it is not inevitable. The very severity of the consequences might spur efforts to prevent this scenario from materializing. For instance, the United States and Gulf states could intensify economic support to Jordan now (in 2025) to alleviate public hardship and bolster the monarchy’s legitimacy, thus heading off an immediate revolt. Diplomatic progress on the Israeli-Palestinian front – however remote it seems – would also help reduce the popular anger in Jordan that fuels radicalization. Regionally, even Iran and its allies might not truly desire a conflagration that a Jordan domino could trigger, given the unpredictable and potentially devastating results.

In war and peace, sometimes the smallest hinge can swing the largest door. Jordan’s stability is one such hinge. This analysis has explored how its swing from stability to collapse could open the door to a new and perilous chapter in Middle East history, possibly marking the difference between a contained conflict and a regional cataclysm. Ultimately, it underscores a sobering lesson: the fate of one nation can tip the balance between survival and destruction in an entire region. Policymakers would do well to heed the warning implicit in this scenario – to strengthen the pillars of stability before they crack by ensuring a complete ceasefire in Gaza and a halt of illegal settler expansion in the West Bank. It is essential to recognize that in the Middle East’s high-stakes game of dominoes, preventing the first tile from falling is vastly easier than trying to stop the chain reaction afterward.

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References

• Almaari, Faris. (2023, June 9). New Public Opinion Poll: Jordanians Favor De-escalation… But Sentiment Against Israel Remains. The Washington Institute.
  https://www.washingtoninstitute.org/policy-analysis/new-public-opinion-poll-jordanians-favor-de-escalation-region-sentiment-against
• Atlantic Council. (2024, April 3). Jordan was already walking a tightrope. Then the Gaza war happened.
  https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/in-depth-research-reports/jordan-was-already-walking-a-tightrope-then-the-gaza-war-happened/
• Carnegie Endowment. (2023). The Soviet Roots of Putin’s Foreign Policy Toward the Middle East.
  https://carnegieendowment.org/2023/03/01/the-soviet-roots-of-putin-s-foreign-policy-toward-middle-east-pub-89043
• Institute for Peace and Diplomacy. (2025, February 24). China’s Expanding Influence in the Middle East and North Africa.
  https://peacediplomacy.org/2025/02/chinas-expanding-influence-in-the-middle-east-and-north-africa/
• Magid, Aaron. (2024, April 3). Jordan was already walking a tightrope. Then the Gaza war happened. Atlantic Council.
  https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/in-depth-research-reports/jordan-was-already-walking-a-tightrope-then-the-gaza-war-happened/
• Middle East Eye. (2024, October 2). Jordanians backlash over downing Iranian missiles heading to Israel.
  https://www.middleeasteye.net/news/jordanians-backlash-over-downing-iranian-missiles-heading-israel
• Quincy Institute. (2024, December 16). Sheline, Annelle. Jordan on the Edge: Pressures from the War in Gaza and the Incoming Trump Administration.
  https://quincyinst.org/report/jordan-on-the-edge-pressures-from-the-war-in-gaza-and-the-incoming-trump-administration
• Reuters. (2023, November). Jordan’s PM: transferring West Bank Palestinians to Jordan a ‘declaration of war’. Retrieved via Atlantic Council.
  https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/in-depth-research-reports/jordan-was-already-walking-a-tightrope-then-the-gaza-war-happened/
• Sherman, Martin. (2021, April 11). Jordan’s ‘House of Cards’: The implications for Israel. JNS.org.
  https://www.jns.org/jordans-house-of-cards-the-implications-for-israel/

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