The River Jordan has watered civilisation for ten thousand years. Now, for much of the year, only a slow, salty trickle leaves the Sea of Galilee and meanders south to the Dead Sea. As a result the Dead Sea is shrivelling and Jordan is suffering unprecedented water shortages.
King Hussein has hit on a plan to refill the Dead Sea from the south and revive his country. He wants to link the Red Sea to the Dead Sea with a 240-kilometre canal. The king hopes that as the Red Sea鈥檚 waters flow inland, they will transform one of the hottest desert valleys on Earth into a green oasis, and fuel industrial development. And since signing the peace treaty with Israel last October, Hussein has been dreaming of a 鈥減eace dividend鈥� in the form of international backing for his project. But will this peace dividend become a well of prosperity for Jordan 鈥� or a billion-dollar mirage in the desert?
Jordan is one of the driest countries on Earth. It has less water per head of population than its neighbour Israel, less than Saudi Arabia and most of the Gulf states, which spend a large portion of their oil revenues desalinating seawater, and much less than any of the states of the Sahara.
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The causes of Jordan鈥檚 hydrological poverty are part geographical and part political. It is an almost totally landlocked desert kingdom, with few rivers. Until thirty years ago, the River Jordan was the country鈥檚 lifeblood. But in 1964, Israel started diverting most of the river鈥檚 annual flow of 1200 million cubic metres into the National Water Carrier, to irrigate its own fields. As hostilities between the two countries continued, international donors refused to lend money to allow Jordan to build dams on its few remaining rivers and the 鈥渨adis鈥�, the watercourses that are dry apart from during the rainy season.
To supply its taps and irrigate its fields, Jordan has had to pump water from natural underground reserves. Much of this water percolated underground centuries ago in wetter times, and is not being replaced. Within a generation, say hydrologists, most of it will be gone.
Lowering the Dead
Meanwhile, the level of the Dead Sea is falling. For hundreds of years it remained around 392 metres below sea level, but since Israel diverted the waters of the River Jordan, the level has been sinking by half a metre a year, says Muhammad Shatanawi, director of the water and environment research centre at the University of Jordan, Amman. It is now down to 409 metres below sea level and the surface area has shrunk by almost 300 square kilometres, or 30 per cent of its former area. And as the coastline has retreated, factories that extract potash and other salts from the water have found themselves stranded several kilometres from the sea.
Unless something is done, says Shatanawi, the Dead Sea is doomed. 鈥淲ithin a few years, the Israelis, Jordanians and Palestinians will be using all the wadis, as well as all the flow from the River Jordan. There will be no water at all going into the Dead Sea, and in 50 years it will have dried up altogether.鈥�
The plight of the Dead Sea was one of the reasons why Hussein agreed peace terms with Israel, ending almost fifty years of conflict, and opening the way for international aid. He also secured Israel鈥檚 agreement to work on a development programme along the border between the two countries in the Rift Valley south of the Dead Sea (see Map). And now the World Bank and the US government鈥檚 Overseas Private Investment Corporation are offering to promote the programme in a bid to attract international and private funds.
At the heart of the development programme is Hussein鈥檚 proposal for a 鈥淩ed-Dead鈥� canal. Weaving back and forth across the Jordan-Israeli border, the canal would not only link the two seas, it would also irrevocably link the two countries. The canal would exploit the 400-metre height difference between the two seas to generate hydroelectricity. This, in turn, would power desalination works serving both countries.
In the week that Israel and Jordan signed their peace accord, the World Bank published the results of its feasibility study on the Red-Dead canal. It suggested that such a canal could carry 1900 million cubic metres of water a year, enough to raise the Dead Sea to its former level within a decade. Thereafter, flow would be reduced to around 1200 million cubic metres, similar to the former flow of the River Jordan.
The canal, the World Bank said, could provide a hydroelectric generating capacity of around 600 megawatts, similar to a medium-sized power station. There was one drawback. The route from the Red Sea to the Dead Sea is not downhill all the way. The first stretch involves a 220-metre climb. The World Bank calculated that about two-thirds of the power generated by the canal on its downward journey would be needed to pump the water up the initial climb. Even so, there would still be enough power left to desalinate around 800 million cubic metres of water annually from the canal and local saline groundwaters.
The Bank estimates that the canal would cost between $3 billion and $4 billion, roughly half as much as the Channel Tunnel, and take ten years to build. But, once built, it 鈥渃ould become the backbone of an intensive development strategy鈥� for the barren, empty and stifling valley between the two seas, one of the hottest deserts in the world. The canal could provide water for fish farms, industry, agriculture and recreational lakes along the canal, as well as for 鈥渟olar ponds鈥� to generate further electricity.
In April, Jordan and Israel agreed to set up a joint authority to oversee development in the Rift Valley. At the top of their agenda will be tourism. Since the peace deal unlocked the border, tourists have flooded into the valley to visit the ancient city of Petra, the beaches and coral reefs of the Red Sea, and desert attractions such as the annual bird migrations through the Rift Valley.
Israel plans 鈥渢he Lowest Park on Earth鈥�, comprising a mix of nature reserves and health spas on the Dead Sea. Not to be outdone, Abdul Kader, development officer at the Jordan Valley Authority, has announced Jordanian plans for 鈥渁 recreation area of some 325 square kilometres on the eastern shore of the Dead Sea鈥�. It would, he said, include a 鈥淒isneyland-style theme park鈥� and cable cars to a hot spring resort at the hill town of Ma鈥檌n overlooking the sea.
Already, Jordan and Israel are finding that American industrialists and construction companies are queuing up to invest American aid grants in funfairs and fish farms, electricity pylons and potash. But without more water to prime the pumps, most of the industrial, tourist and agricultural projects will come to nothing. Which is why Hussein wants to build a Red-Dead canal.
Other options
But is the project viable, or is there a cheaper, less grandiose way to achieve the same objective? The need to do something about Jordan鈥檚 water supplies is evident wherever you go in the country. For the fifth summer running, water rationing has been introduced in urban areas, with supplies cut off for many hours at a time. And while other Middle East countries grow two or three crops a year on their irrigated fields, Jordan manages only one.
Below ground, the crisis is less apparent 鈥� except at the Azraq oasis in the east of the country. The oasis was once the largest expanse of freshwater in the Middle East, an ancient magnet for Bedouin camel and goat herders and desert wildlife. Its water bubbled up from springs, fed by rainwater percolating into rocks across a wide area of desert, much of it from the Druz Mountains in neighbouring Syria. But in the mid 1960s, European engineers recommended the exploitation of the Azraq groundwaters, first for irrigation and later to supply water to Amman.
Hydrologists estimate that, after evaporation losses, the aquifer refills at a rate of around 20 million cubic metres a year. But pumping far exceeds that figure. 鈥淭he current rate of pumping is 45 to 50 million cubic metres a year,鈥� says Shatanawi. 鈥淭his is more than twice the safe yield.鈥� Jane Dottridge of University College London estimates that the pumps have already 鈥渕ined鈥� 200 million cubic metres, some of it 鈥渇ossil water鈥� more than 10 000 years old. Nobody knows how much is left.
The damage to the oasis has been catastrophic, says Shatanawi. In the 1950s, 3000 cubic metres of water an hour gushed into the oasis. By 1980, the springs supplied just 10 cubic metres an hour. By 1992, the last of the springs had expired. Now the only water reaching the oasis comes from local flash floods. 鈥淓ven with this year鈥檚 good rains,鈥� says Shatanawi, 鈥渢he water cover at the oasis is only a fifth what it used to be.鈥�
Ransacked reserves
In 1989, the Jordanian environment department agreed that pumping should be reduced to 20 million cubic metres per year. But local farmers have continued to dig new wells. And the amount of water being pumped to Amman continues to increase, with the Azraq oasis now providing about a quarter of the capital鈥檚 water 鈥� more than 20 million cubic metres in most years.
The same story of ransacked reserves holds throughout the country. Water was first piped from Azraq to Amman because the aquifer beneath the capital itself was being overexploited. It still is. Currently around 70 million cubic metres is removed annually, and only 40 million cubic metres refill naturally. A government study says that the aquifer will be empty within 25 years.
In desperation, Jordan has looked at ways to supply water to Amman from another 鈥渇ossil water鈥� resource in the far south of the country, the Disi aquifer, which extends across the border into Saudi Arabia. According to Britain鈥檚 Overseas Development Administration, Disi could yield up to 100 million cubic metres a year. The cost, including the 350-kilometre pipeline to Amman, would be about $450 million.
The peace agreement, however, opens up new possibilities, especially for developing surface waters. Until last year, Jordan received an average of 120 million cubic metres annually from the Jordan River basin 鈥� a sixth as much as Israel. Most of its share came from wadis. Jordan鈥檚 largest dam, the King Talal dam 30 kilometres north of the capital, holds back the water in such a wadi. Following the settlement last October, Israel agreed to allow an extra 200 million cubic metres to flow down the River Jordan from the Sea of Galilee. And it has agreed to Jordan building two dams to capture this water.
Jordan also wants to build a dam on the River Yarmuk, a tributary of the River Jordan that rises in Syria and flows through Jordan. The Yarmuk flows for only a few months each year, but contributes 40 per cent of the surface water in Jordan. It could yield up to 80 million cubic metres a year, but the country has never been able to dam it. Construction was halted in 1967 by Israeli troops who invaded and destroyed the partially built dam in the final hours of the Six Day War. But peacemakers hope that the dam may soon be built.
There are also schemes afoot to share other waters in the region. Israeli engineers, for example, are keen to divert part of the flow of the Litani River in southern Lebanon through a tunnel into the headwaters of the River Jordan. According to Hillel Shuval of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, two-thirds of the Litani鈥檚 flow currently 鈥渞uns to the sea unused鈥�. The water, he says, should go to a Middle East 鈥渨ater bank鈥�, run jointly by the governments of the region, which would be responsible for brokering such arrangements. The first takers would probably be the Palestinians. Everybody in the region is painfully aware that the new Palestinian state, when it finally emerges, is likely to be even shorter of water than Jordan.
Shuval, however, is convinced that the key to the sensible use of water in the eastern Mediterranean lies in increasing the efficiency with which existing water reserves are used, rather than in developing new resources and juggling old ones. Modern methods of 鈥渕icro-irrigation鈥�, for example, can halve the water needed to grow a crop by delivering it in small quantities close to the roots. Saul Arlosoroff, also of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, notes that during the past 30 years Israel has increased fivefold the value of crops it can grow with a given amount of water.
Jordan has tried to follow the example of its neighbour. In the Jordan valley, most farms use drip irrigation and grow vegetables under plastic to conserve water. But on the desert margins, where investment in agriculture is lower, more water is wasted. John Waddington of the University of Newcastle upon Tyne has surveyed every farm in the Azraq basin and found widespread overwatering of crops and frequent leaks from water mains. Waddington estimates that 4.1 million cubic metres is wasted each year, or around 30 per cent of the total used.
But losses are probably at their worst in the urban areas around Amman. According to Munther Haddadin, head of water negotiations for the Jordanian government, 鈥�56 per cent of the water put into urban supply is unaccounted for, at least half of which is through leakage鈥�. Despite Jordan鈥檚 shortages, the prices that farmers and householders pay for their water are a fraction of those in Israel. Farmers pay nothing towards the capital cost of water-supply projects, and only half of their operating costs. This, he says, means that 鈥渢he public has no incentive to conserve water鈥�.
Wasted resource
Haddadin says his country must follow Israel鈥檚 example and recycle urban sewage to irrigate crops. Eventually, he claims, 60 per cent of sewage could be used in this way. The country鈥檚 largest reservoir, behind the King Talal dam, is already topped up with effluent from a large sewage works. But failures in sewage treatment left the water in the reservoir so dirty, says Haddadin, that 鈥渟ome irrigated vegetables and citrus crops have been lost in the past four years鈥�. In 1991, polluted water destroyed vegetables worth $90 million.
Here is the crux: should Jordan be investing in recycling its sewage, plugging its leaks and improving its irrigation techniques, or should it be investing in water-supply 鈥渕egaprojects鈥�, such as the Red-Dead canal?
Arlosoroff says there is no contest. Water from the canal would cost between 50 and 100 cents per cubic metre, whereas the price of recycled sewage is 25 to 35 cents. And most methods of demand management, such as advanced irrigation systems, could save water at even less expense. Shuval agrees. He says desalinated canal water would cost 鈥渁t least three times more than is economic for agricultural use. Its customers would certainly not be farmers. Only the urban population, or tourist projects, could afford it.鈥� Even Shatanawi, an enthusiastic supporter of the canal, says that it will never 鈥済reen鈥� the Rift Valley desert: 鈥淚t won鈥檛 be economic to use the water for irrigation.
There are environmental objections to the scheme, too. While the canal could certainly refill the Dead Sea, Shatanawi admits that the resulting mix of waters would be chemically very different, with unpredictable consequences for the lucrative salt-extracting factories. And the World Bank warns that the saltwater in the canal could leak into underground water reserves beneath the Rift Valley. It would be absurd if, as the canal project expensively desalinated sea water, it polluted existing freshwater reserves.
The prognoses for the Red-Dead canal are not encouraging. And yet, the project is likely to live for its geopolitical symbolism. Does this mean the project is likely to become a costly white elephant? Not necessarily, says Shuval. 鈥淲e scientists have to recognise that sometimes very big projects have a life of their own. I don鈥檛 think the Red-Dead project is very attractive economically. But it is a grand, heroic scheme.鈥� And if it can cement a peaceful relationship between two countries that have gone to war twice in a generation, 鈥渢hen even at $4 billion it may be worth it鈥�.