ISIS has used soccer as a backdrop for some of its most heinous crimes, including the 2015 bombings at the Stade de France and a 2016 bombing at a youth soccer match in Iraq that killed 29 children. If he continues his boycott, he'll be aligned with a complicated movement that began with peaceful demonstrations and has since splintered to include al-Qaida and ISIS. He will also represent a government that - along with nerve gas, torture, rape, starvation and the bombing of civilians - has used soccer as a weapon to promote its murderous rule. If he rejoins Syria, he will be team captain and the most important player in his country's quest to make the World Cup for the first time. Sometime within the next 36 days, when Syria plays its next match, Khatib must choose between two great evils that plague the modern world. One player he grew up with, Nihad Saadeddine, says if Khatib returns to Syria he'll be relegated to "the garbage bin of history along with everyone who supports the criminal Bashar al-Assad." Saadeddine vows never to speak to Khatib again. Even some of his closest friends are ready to turn on him. Khatib pulls out his phone to show his Facebook page, which receives a hundred messages a day. Listen to reporter Steve Fainaru and producer Greg Amante's podcast about this story. "Every day before I sleep, maybe one hour, two hours, just thinking about this decision."Į:60 showcases the best in longform television journalism, including a full-length feature on the Syrian soccer team this week, at 9 a.m. But Khatib seems nearly crushed by the weight of his dilemma, which he discusses over two days of interviews. The mall's posh setting offers a glimpse into his comfortable life here - yachts bobbing on scalloped blue water, robed men and women drawing flavored tobacco from tableside water pipes. He has earned millions playing professionally in Kuwait. Khatib is bearded and runty, with curly brown hair and kind eyes. "In Syria now, if you talk, somebody will kill you - for what you talk, for what you think. "I'm afraid, I'm afraid," he says in stilted English. His reasons are complicated, and he's reluctant to express them. He is thinking about rejoining Syria for its final push to qualify for next year's World Cup. Now, suddenly, Khatib seems to be having a change of heart. On a cool February afternoon, one of Syria's greatest soccer players sits outside a mall on the Persian Gulf, paralyzed by a decision that he fears could kill him.įor five years, Firas al-Khatib has boycotted the Syrian national team to protest dictator Bashar al-Assad, who bombed and starved Khatib's hometown.