Syria – football as a unifying force

During the civil war in Syria, the Tishreen football club from the port city of Latakia won the championship three times. Many of the club’s fans are Alawites, meaning they belong to the same minority as the long-time ruling Al-Assad family. Fawaz Al-Assad was the honorary president of Tishreen for a long time. The dictator Bashar’s cousin liked to drive into the stadium in a convertible, accompanied by soldiers and gunfire.

There is no longer any sign of any closeness to the old Syrian power elite at Tishreen. Earlier this week, after the fall of the regime, the club released photos of two former players. They show Ziad Adschouz and Al-Mouttaleb Zartit posing in protective vests behind the championship trophies. Both had given up football long ago to fight with the rebels against the dictatorship.

“The feelings of joy and optimism can also be felt in sport,” says football expert Nadim Rai, who comes from Syria and has been living in Germany for almost ten years. »The structures will change fundamentally. But it will take years to come to terms with the instrumentalization in football.

Nadim Rai hasn’t slept much in the past few days. He called friends in Syria, including football fans who marched through the streets cheering, with flags, chants and fireworks. Rai spent hours researching social media. He came across a photo of Salim Khadra, one of his favorite players from his youth. Khadra had fled to Turkey and is now apparently considering returning to Syria.

“Football can become a symbol of unity in Syria,” believes Nadim Rai. »But for this to happen, the association has to regain trust. People will be watching closely to see who will play for the national team soon and who won’t.”

There is now no sign of any proximity to the old power elite.

For many years, the national team was a symbol of the division in Syrian society. This became particularly clear at the 2012 West Asian Championship, a year after the start of the civil war. In the final in Kuwait, Syria defeated Iraq 1-0. Two opposing fans of the same team faced each other in the stadium. Some waved the flags of the Syrian rebels, others stood behind Al-Assad.

Immediately after that final, Syrian player Omar Al-Somah took off the red national jersey and put on a white rebel T-shirt. He did not play for Syria for five years, but returned to the national team in 2017 in the crucial qualifiers for the 2018 World Cup. Al-Somah, who was playing in Saudi Arabia at the time, even traveled to Damascus to attend a reception given by Al-Assad. Was Omar Al-Somah put under pressure by the government? Were his family and friends in danger? “The boundaries between civil servants, followers and rebels were sometimes fluid,” says Nadim Rai. Before returning to the national team, Omar Al-Somah is said to have used his influence to get his former teammate Mohammad Kneis released from prison. Now, after the fall of the regime, Al-Somah wrote on social media: “Congratulations to the Syrians and heartfelt condolences to those who died under the regime. Long live free Syria.«

For a long time, remembering war victims was banned in football. The situation is unclear, but several exiles estimate that more than 40 players from Syria’s top two leagues were killed during the war. The former national player Jihad Qassab, for example, was accused of constructing car bombs – which he denied. Qassab died in 2016 after severe torture in the Saidnaya military prison. Biographies like these are now being intensively discussed on social media – without fear of persecution. Fans remember Abdul Baset Al-Sarout, for example. He was the first well-known footballer to stand against Al-Assad in 2011 and join the Free Syrian Army. This FSA founded its own football association in Turkey. Abdul Baset Al-Sarout, who is said to have been close to Al-Qaeda, was killed in fighting in 2019.

Refugee players, officials and sports journalists established an exile network, particularly in Turkey. From there they gathered information: about the obligation of athletes to participate in political propaganda or the arrests of footballers. An example: Long-time Syrian national goalkeeper Mosab Balhous was arrested by government troops in 2011 because he was said to have offered refuge to rebels. There was no trace of him for almost a year; many fans thought he was dead. In 2012 he surprisingly returned to the national team.

Despite these political connections, FIFA did not sanction the Syrian Football Association. During the war, Al-Assad allowed league operations to continue in the supposedly safe cities of Damascus and Latakia. At the same time, stadiums in Aleppo and Homs were used as military bases, prisons or refugee camps. Rockets were fired from the Abbasid Stadium in Damascus.

Bashar Al-Assad rarely appeared in the official stands, and yet football supported his agenda. Just a month ago, the national team played in a friendly against Russia in Volgograd, the country where Al-Assad has since received asylum from his ally Putin. It is quite possible that the leading officials of the Syrian association will soon lose their jobs, believes Nadim Rai. But similar to politics, the transfer of power in football also seems to be relatively orderly.

Many fans have less patience and are calling for the exclusion of players who have positioned themselves for Al-Assad. In focus: national goalkeeper Ibrahim Alma. During a training session for the Syrian selection in Austria in 2018, Alma is said to have asked a steward to expel a fan with a rebel banner from the stadium. Clubs in Saudi Arabia are said to have rejected Alma’s commitment twice because he repeatedly appeared with representatives of the Syrian regime.

The national team’s last game in front of a home crowd was against Iraq in Damascus in 2010. Since then, the game has been played in Qatar or the Emirates. The Asian Football Association has just announced the game dates for the spring, along with the flag of the old regime. Fans were outraged because the Syrian association also has a new logo. It’s probably only a matter of time before home games actually take place at home again.