At the end of the Champs-Elysées, on the very edges of the camp, a group of young men are sitting at desks in their football kit taking notes. One of them is Omar al Taleb Bassam. He is thirty-one but looks older. Bassam used to be a footballer, a striker for a local amateur team in Daraa. Home is just twenty-five kilometres away but it is impossible for him to return. Instead he has built a new life in Zaatari and is using football to help the children and young adults who have arrived, shattered by war, to move on as best they can. He is a coach now, organising matches and tournaments to teach the young men a little more about fitness, technique and discipline. ‘It’s rehabilitation through football,’ Bassam explains after his lecture. Outside half a dozen young children are kicking a ball in the air and chasing it as one pack on a sandy pitch with goalposts. ‘The children arrive completely devastated. They have seen their family members killed before their eyes and the journey to Jordan is a difficult one for them. Through football at least we try to remove the sense of fear and give them some sense of normalcy. Football is the most popular sport. It plays the role of the mother. It is the only outlet many have.’ Bassam had, like every single person, come to a tipping point where staying in Syria was no longer an option. ‘I could not take life in Syria any more,’ he says quietly. ‘My life was threatened on a daily basis. Basically we are Syrian people asking for freedom under a repressive regime. They did not choose between an elderly person, a child or a woman. They were targeting everybody. They were bombing homes, villages. It became unliveable so we fled to Jordan.’ It wasn’t just the children who had been helped, or distracted, by football. It had been good for Bassam, too. The camp was orderly, it had electricity – even if most of it was illegally taken from a wire hooked up to the power lines outside – but Zaatari wasn’t without its tensions both between its occupants and its hosts. ‘They, the Syrians, are all after maximising their own benefits so basically food, goods, vouchers they all want to maximise what they can get,’ Bassam says of life in the camp. ‘Outside things are OK. With the Jordanians outside the camp in the towns there is some exploitation. It is not across the board against all Jordanians because the five fingers on one hand are not the same. But that is the general sense they get.’
For Jordanians the Syrian crisis was another wave of refugees for the country to deal with. The war in Iraq had seen over a million Iraqis flee westwards. Before that the creation of Israel in 1948, followed by wars in 1967 and 1973, had seen huge numbers of Palestinians move east. Jordan was long known as the quiet man of the Middle East, an oasis of relative calm as countries degenerated around it. Of the one million Iraqis who had come, almost 400,000 still remained. And the Palestinians now made up the vast majority of the Jordanian population. The tensions and, sometimes, the hatreds between the two communities was Jordan’s dirty little secret, something the authorities covered up and which the local press could not report on. ‘The Jordanian authorities consider any talk about a Palestinian–East Bank Jordanian division to be a threat to national security,’ Professor Yasir Suleiman from the University of Cambridge had told me. ‘East Bank Jordanians tend to be more vocal about the issue publicly: they feel that they are the indigenous population and that the state is more theirs than the Palestinians’.’ There was only one realm in Jordanian society in which the tension was allowed to become vocal: football. Jordan’s two biggest teams are Al Wihdat and Al Faisaly. Wihdat comes from the Al Wihdat refugee camp outside Amman. That, too, was supposed to be a temporary refugee camp. Now, after more than sixty years, it has become merely a suburb of the capital. The club has always had a strong Palestinian identity. Their club badge has Jerusalem’s Dome of the Rock on it. Yasser Arafat once even referred to Wihdat as the national team of Palestine, long before the Palestinians had their own proper national team. Al Faisaly, on the other hand, has roots in the country’s Jordanian East Bank population. When they play each other the resentments come to the surface; how the Palestinians controlled the levers of business while the Jordanian East Bankers dominated the government, military and police. Al Wihdat’s fans would chant about a free Palestine: ‘One, two, three, Jerusalem for the Arabs!’ The Al Faisaly fans would urge King Abdullah to divorce his wife, Queen Rania, who is a Palestinian. Rioting at the teams’ games has been commonplace in recent years. I had been to a derby between the two on the last day of the 2007–8 Jordanian season. It was played at an isolated stadium in Zarqa, not far from where the Zaatari camp would later be founded. Al Wihdat had won the league the week before, meaning that no Faisaly fans had turned up. That didn’t matter much. Wihdat’s fans, who had been peaceful throughout, were set upon and beaten by the Jordanian police. Every Wihdat fan I spoke to believed they had been attacked because they were Palestinian. ‘In the heat of the game, where large crowds gather, repressed feelings may be vented in the public sphere,’ Professor Suleiman said. ‘The authorities know this, but as long as the vents are not overloaded, they tend to tolerate the political in football.’ But, in 2009, one such vent let a little too much pressure out, sparking an incident that made it to a diplomatic level. A cable released by the WikiLeaks website, titled ‘Jordanian Soccer Game Halted Amidst Anti-Regime Chants, Hooliganism Toward Palestinians’, detailed how a league match between Wihdat and Faisaly was abandoned:
S E C R E T SECTION 01 OF 02 AMMAN 001689
SIPDIS
E.O. 12958: DECL: 07/23/2019
TAGS: PGOV KDEM SOCI JO
SUBJECT: JORDANIAN SOCCER GAME HALTED AMIDST ANTI-REGIME CHANTS, HOOLIGANISM TOWARD PALESTINIANS
Classified By: Charge d’Affaires Lawrence Mandel for reasons 1.4 (b) and (d).
Faisali 0, Wahdat 0, PPD (Riot)
-------------------------------
2. (C) Jordanian police intervened to stop fan violence and the chanting of anti-regime slogans during a July 17 match between Amman soccer clubs Faisali and Wahdat in the industrial town of Zarqa. The unrest began when Faisali fans started to chant slogans against Palestinian-origin Jordanians, including Queen Rania. Some Faisali fans threw bottles at Wahdat players and their fans. The coaches of both teams ordered their players off of the field in the middle of the game for their own safety, and the remainder of the match was cancelled. (Note: It ended in a scoreless draw. End Note.)
The cable went on to say ‘There is broad recognition throughout Jordan that the Faisali–Wahdat incident exposed the uncomfortable gap between East Bankers and Palestinians, one that most would rather keep well hidden for the sake of political stability.’
That tension had proved problematic for the national team. With few players playing abroad, the Jordanian team’s best players came from both Wihdat and Faisaly. The country had enjoyed virtually zero success until this World Cup campaign. An hour’s drive south from Zaatari, in the capital Amman, Jordan will soon play two-time World Cup winners Uruguay in the first of a two-match intercontinental play-off with the winner clinching a place in Brazil. Al Nashama, ‘The Brave Ones’ in Arabic, began their campaign to reach Brazil in the summer of 2011. At the Amman International Stadium, where the first Uruguay game would be played, they beat Nepal 9-0. The team was led by legendary former Iraq coach Adnan Hamad. Hamad was a former Iraqi international who had taken a path towards coaching when injuries ended his career early. When the Second Gulf War broke out, and German coach Bernd Stange quit, Hamad took over. His greatest achievement was coaching the Iraqi Olympic team at the 2004 Athens games. He had taken his young squad there just as Iraq was disintegrating into a vicious war. Yet the team went out and shocked the world. In their first game they beat Portugal 4-2, a team that contained the likes of Cristiano Ronaldo, Hugo Viana, Hugo Almeida, Bruno Alves and José Bosingwa. The Lions of Mesopotamia topped their group and beat Australia in the quarter-finals before losing to Paraguay in the semis. They lost their bronze medal match 1-0 against an Italian side captained by Andrea Pirlo. Iraq went home empty-handed, but Hamad’s multi-confessional and multi-ethnic team, containing Shia, Sunni and Kurds, would
go on to win the 2007 Asian Cup. Of that championship-winning side goalkeeper Noor Sabri, striker Hawar Mulla Mohammed, midfielder Nashat Akram and captain Younis Mahmoud all cut their teeth in Athens. It was Mahmoud’s goal against Saudi Arabia in the 2007 final that clinched the title for Iraq.
Jordan won its first four games in the group stage of qualification for Brazil 2014, defeating Iraq in Iraq, China and Singapore. In the second group stage they defeated both Australia and the current Asian champions Japan, finished third, beat Uzbekistan on penalties and were now preparing for Uruguay. Except that Adnan Hamad is not here. After the final group game against Oman he quit and was replaced by former Egyptian international Hossam Hassan. Hassan played in Italia ’90, Egypt’s last appearance at the finals. The former striker had gone into coaching after retirement. His last job was as coach of Al Masry.
Jordan’s opponents were lucky to be here. Uruguay had struggled in South American qualification. The single group stage format of qualification in CONMEBAL is not forgiving for the underdog. Or perhaps it is. Every country in CONMEBAL had qualified for the World Cup finals. Except one. Venezuela had been on course to clinch at least a play-off spot after their finest ever qualification campaign. Six South American teams could qualify: Brazil as hosts, the top four in the group and a play-off spot against weaker Asian opponents for finishing fifth. Until the last five games it looked as if Venezuela would push out Uruguay. The 1930 and 1950 World Cup winners had been in miserable form. Despite having finished in the semi-finals at South Africa 2010, then winning the Copa America, Uruguay lost heavily to Bolivia and Colombia. A team that contained Luis Suárez and Edinson Cavani and coached by Óscar Tabarez looked as if it would watch the finals from the other side of the border. It was only a run of four victories in their last five games that secured their play-off spot. An Argentina featuring Lionel Messi and Sergio Agüero qualified as group winners, to be joined by Colombia, Chile and Ecuador. Ominously for Jordan, Uruguay beat Argentina 3-2 in their final group game.
Bassam, even after the tensions between the Jordanians and Syrians inside and outside the Zaatari camp, is still rooting for Jordan. ‘Unfortunately we can’t go to the stadium as it’s full,’ he says. He is right. The day before tickets were being sold outside for fifty dinars, more than a week’s salary. ‘We might not be able to watch it as it is on Al Jazeera TV and we can’t afford the Al Jazeera cards. But we will support the Jordanians and hope that Al Nashama will do their best.’
We leave the Zaatari refugee camp, past the pet shops and cafés and arcades full of young kids playing computer games. With every passing day an average of 400 people will join their numbers. The UN has to plan as if they are in charge of a permanent city. Which, in a way, Zaatari is. Metered electricity is on the way. A police force is being assembled and trained by the British. Consultative councils headed by community leaders have been set up to prevent the protests and riots that have broken out periodically over food and conditions. The prospect of elections and a seat in the local Jordanian municipality has been mooted. The Jordanians after all feel aggrieved that the Syrians are creating business and using resources without paying tax or rates. One shawarma stall, according to a UN representative I talk to, was bringing in $13,000 a month. Every day the roots of Zaatari grow a little bit deeper. One day a Zaatari football team will be formed. A stadium will follow. The caravans will be upgraded to single-floor concrete huts, then two-floor buildings. Just as with the Palestinians and the Wihdat refugee camp in Amman, what started out as a stop-gap will become permanent. As we leave, a ragged group of refugees arrive, placing their belongings into the wheelbarrows of the young Syrian boys at the entrance. For the first time I notice that the entrance is guarded by armed Jordanian troops. It’s not clear who they are keeping out and who they are keeping in.
**
Amman, Jordan
Jordan’s past, present and future look down on the pitch at the Amman International Stadium as Al Nashama train for the game of their lives. Three huge colour portraits dominate one stand. On the left King Hussein, the revered former king who negotiated the country through wars and internal Palestinian insurrection and who had made peace with Israel in 1994. In the middle is King Abdullah II, Hussein’s eldest son who replaced him when he died in 1999. In it he is wearing a Jordanian football shirt with the number 99 on the front, celebrating a goal. To the right is a picture of Hussein bin Abdullah, the king’s teenage son and crown prince. In the dugout another member of the royal family is watching, too. Prince Ali has arrived with his security escort. A crowd of Jordanian fans desperate for tickets meet him outside, chanting his name. The stadium already feels like match day. A few thousand Jordanians have turned up, not to see training – which is closed – but to try and get tickets. Smoke hangs in the air from the street vendors cooking maize for passing trade. The taxi driver who dropped me off had asked one of the touts the price of a ticket. He sped off angrily without giving a reply when he was told it would cost fifty dinars, close to £50. ‘This is the biggest match we have had in our history. That is a reality,’ the prince says as we watch Hossam Hassan put his players through their paces. ‘We are on the verge of qualifying for the World Cup. There’s been a lot of hard work from players and officials and coaches to get here. Remember, Jordan is a country that has very limited resources but at the same time with the spirit and hard work we managed to get here.’
Many of these players had played at the 2007 Under 20 World Cup, where they faced Uruguay. Jordan lost but it gave the Jordan Football Association enough confidence to invest in training centres for both boys and girls. Now both senior teams, for men and women, had a chance of making it to their next respective World Cups. The men’s team had as tough a match as it was possible to get. But at least it had overcome its traditional divisions. I ask Prince Ali about Faisaly and Wihdat and the rivalry between Jordan’s East Bankers and West Bankers. ‘I think there are rivals on the pitch and I think, to be honest, that rivalry has helped us because there’s so much emotion behind it,’ he says, a little uncomfortably. ‘The emotion that has got us to that level. Our players on national team duty are all united, they are all one. I’d like to emphasise our players all come from very different backgrounds across the country. The reason they are playing is they love the sport. I don’t think there’s anything political, our clubs right now all realise and support each other. We are one family and that’s a reality so I am not concerned at all.’
Hossam Hassan, too, believes the divisions are something of the past, even if that seems hard to accept. ‘You have a bad idea about Faisaly and Wihdat, there is no problem here,’ he says pitchside. ‘It’s like in Spain with Barcelona and Real Madrid, there’s a rivalry, but now we are all in the national team. We are all Arabs together under Allah.’ Hassan had appeared to solve the vexed issue of political division by choosing fewer players from both teams. Jordan’s recent success had seen a few players leave for the much higher level Saudi league. Half a dozen players had been chosen from the two teams, although many more had started their careers at either club. But with his meagre choice when compared to Uruguay’s riches Hassan had big problems even before the game. Their goalkeeper Amer Shafi, who had been in goal during that incredible penalty shoot-out in Tashkent against Uzbekistan, was suspended. Midfielder Amer Deeb, who had made his name at Wihdat and was arguably Jordan’s best player, had been omitted from the squad. But Ahmed Hayel, the striker who had scored the decisive goal in Jordan’s qualification victory against Japan, was fit. ‘It is big especially for Jordanian and Arab football, we are very ambitious and we know that Uruguay is a real team and very difficult to overcome,’ Hassan explains. Training has finished and night has set in. ‘But we will make the Jordanian dreams come true and take our chance and give our all by fighting on the pitch. We are going to win the match tomorrow in front of the Jordanian crowd. The crowd has been a huge part of Jordan’s success.’ Prince Ali, under the shadow of his father, brother and nephew, leans on
one knee as the team – and his security – gather round. He offers softly spoken words of encouragement before the players leave, to be replaced by Luis Suárez and the rest of the Uruguay team. Suárez is the player every Jordanian wants to talk about. The gate at the end of the stadium is opened and more than a hundred people crash through, tripping, falling over each other, jumping hoardings to get closer. And that is just the photographers.
Outside the front of the stadium, a hundred or so Jordanian fans have remained to sing songs in honour of the royal family. As they sing Prince Ali walks over to them and talks to their leader, a young man with a beard and a voice hoarse from shouting who has been standing atop a metal barrier. He bursts into tears. ‘Praise God! I spoke to Prince Ali!’ croaks Khaled Ziqawe, a twenty-nine-year-old bank clerk. ‘Suárez and Cavani are nothing! There is no Suárez, no Cavani, only Ahmed Hayel!’ I ask them all who they support: Faisaly, Wihdat or someone else? No one replies at first. ‘Tomorrow, there will be no Faisaly, no Wihdat,’ Khaled finally says. ‘The Arab world will be behind us and, tomorrow, Al Nashama will be one team, all the people from Jordan will come together. Even Wihdat and Faisaly.’
Thirty-One Nil Page 32
