The paradoxical reality of racism: German soccer and the irreversibility of multiculturalism

ABSTRACT

This paper analyzes three domains of German soccer and their role within debates about multiculturalism and race: The vernacular culture as intersection of fan culture and racism highlighted by attacks from the political right; the culture industry’s investigation into the alleged false identity of Bakery Jatta; and soccer’s occupational culture with a focus on racial abuse and denial within both playing and coaching arenas. The contrast of these three discourses reveals that German soccer at once presents itself as a harmonious multicultural microcosm while failing to grasp enduring challenges of racism. But it suggests also that despite claims of a failure of multiculturalism, German soccer may in fact be at the fore of showing German multiculturalism as an irrevocable, if highly contested reality.

An introduction to the multicultural tro(u)pe

In 2018, German national team players Mesut Özil and İlkay Gündoğan were photographed together with Turkish President Recep Erdoğan at a charity event in the United Kingdom. Following the event, the news was on fire with direct and implicit racist, anti-Islamic, and nationalist charges attacking both players.¹ And while populist declarations by Germany’s centre-right newspaper Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (FAZ) are commonplace, one of its editorial claims stand outs. According to the FAZ, Özil suffered from ‘Verfolgungswahn’ (paranoia) and the days of feeling treated unfairly because of one’s origin or race were but a thing of the past.² Despite its polemical charge, this statement may not surprise readers in tune with Germany’s politically polarized media landscape. After all, the vierte Macht (fourth estate) is often the site for adjudicating the successes and failures of multiculturalism in the ‘new Germany’.³ However, even an innocent defence of the institution of German soccer as non- or anti-racist quickly loses validity; whether it comes from a newspaper, from Özil’s teammates Thomas Müller (‘So now we finally should end that debate and concentrate on football, because racism inside the national team never was an issue’) or Manuel Neuer (‘Racism toward Özil did “absolutely not” happen in the national team’), or from the presidium of the German FA itself (‘That the DFB is being associated with racism [is something] we reject in no uncertain terms’).⁴ Dismissals of this kind instead must be read as expected insider statements – both in terms of the presenters’ relation to the national team, and their position as ‘ethnic Germans’. Their aim is to keep the peace in the Mannschaft (and in Germany) and at once propel the PR machine of the ‘multicultural troupe’⁵ which has been celebrated by the media around the world⁶ as well as scholarship. With only limited acknowledgement of the social realities in and around Germany’s stadiums, the latter’s celebration far too simplistically repeats the mantra espoused by Müller et al. that the Mannschaft’s ‘greater ethnic inclusiveness reflects broader social and political changes within German society overall’.⁷

While similar assertions by media outlets, players and the DFB alike are misrepresentations of the fact that German national players with multinational or multiethnic backgrounds have continuously been recipients of racist attacks, even within the sphere of the German FA – from Erwin Kostedde in the 1970ʹs, to Jimmy Hartwig and Gerald Asamoah in the 1980ʹs and 1990ʹs, to Patrick Owomoyela, Jérôme Boateng, and Leroy Sané in the last 20 years, to name a few – there is more than just the tension surrounding national players. After all, racism and anti-Semitism in German soccer are visibly on the rise; though it never has fully disappeared,⁸ thus bringing to the fore the realities of what happens away from the idealizing displays at major tournaments. David Kennedy describes the reality of racism in soccer across Europe in blunt terms and highlights within it at once an embedded stance towards multiculturalism:

Mirroring the rise of racism and racist activity in wider society, football has suffered the effects of a swing in fan culture generated by an extremist reaction toward multiculturalism in Europe. Players and fans from non-European or ethnic minority communities are increasingly the target for racist abuse and/or attack as neo-nazi and neo-fascist groups have seized on the potential in and around football grounds and amongst organized fan groups to provoke hostile reaction against the influx of foreign-born workers and citizens.⁹

This uptick in reported incidents comes despite a celebration of diversity and publicity campaigns. And it follows on the heels of a celebrated détente in German soccer veiled by what has been described as innocent patriotism or ‘Partyotism’ – Germany’s multicultural trope – since the World Cup 2006.¹⁰ Is the current trend what happens when the curtains fall? When soccer returns to the mundanity of the everyday and when the world previously glued to the big stage no longer pays attention? When the realities of everyday life and soccer actually intersect? When a team or player do not do as well as expected?

With the proliferation of racist incidents, however, it would be a flawed to identify racism as symptomatic only among uneducated, right-wing white males.¹¹ Such an understanding would relegate ‘[e]xpressions of anger and resistance to so-called un-German players […] to the political fringe of the political right’ as Matthias Kaelberer essentially does.¹² And only if one took the acclaimed diversity in German soccer and moments of positive patriotism as sufficient evidence that racism was not a widespread problem, could one dismiss Chancellor Angela Merkel’s pessimistic declarations about multiculturalism in Germany as a ‘failure’ (2010) and a ‘Lebenslüge’ (life lie) in 2015.¹³ As this paper illustrates, however, German soccer, not unlike society at large, aims to accomplish too many things at once within ongoing debates about multiculturalism and racism, often ending up in direct conflict with itself. As Jacqueline Gehring correctly identifies, ‘Germans interrogate the “German” identity of Özil or Boateng (not their race), while selecting them because they look non-German (racially different)’.¹⁴ To highlight how both German soccer players with multiethnic backgrounds and non-German players of colour have always been focal points in debates on race and belonging at the highest levels of politics, professional sports and in the media, this paper therefore considers three specific domains. By drawing on sociologist, Tim Crabbe’s proposed ‘schematic framework for the analysis of racism in football’,¹⁵ this paper will concentrate on select incidents, despite an unavoidable overlap, representing the vernacular, culture industrial, and occupational domains of German soccer. First, this paper will focus on the run up to the federal election 2017 and racist attacks against national player Jérôme Boateng and others by political associates of the far-right AfD party (Alternative for Germany). As an exemplar of vernacular culture where fan culture and racism intersect, fuelled by political vocabulary, the vernacular domain will uncover the mainstream arrival of racism in German soccer. Second, this paper will examine the investigation into the alleged false identity of Gambian refugee and Hamburg SV (HSV) player Bakery Jatta driven by German tabloids and seized by opponents of Jatta’s club. While ‘The Case Jatta’ shows an overlap of different domains, the primary concern will be the media or culture industry’s involvement in the case that now spans a period of 17 months. Lastly, this paper will consider examples of racist incidents in the context of organized soccer away from international tournaments, ranging from youth level and amateur teams to the Bundesliga. The focus here is the professional structure or occupational culture of the game, in particular incidents highlighting an internal culture of abuse and denial within the playing and coaching arenas of German soccer.

In all of the examples, the domains of German soccer often present themselves to the world as perfect multicultural microcosms where the embrace of public campaigns aims to fight injustice,¹⁶ and where moments of hate are excused as momentary and isolated episodes perpetrated by fringe elements. Taken as a whole, however, our examples provide concrete illustrations of what Crabbe has described as a modus operandi of soccer:

This growing awareness of how racism is connected to football operates through a discursive framework which locates it as a problem which is ‘out there’ in wider society and, where it does touch the game, it is manifest among players and supporters rather than the institutions of the game itself. […] In this way the presentation of racism in football provides something of a paradox. At once it is a problem but it is not a problem. It can be rhetorically opposed whilst its presence cannot be contemplated.¹⁷

In exposing this paradox and confronting the claimed failures of German multiculturalism, Chancellor Merkel’s truisms may turn out to be much more of a self-reflexive critique of Germany’s and German soccer’s inability to engage with and understand multiculturalism than it has been viewed up until now. While one must acknowledge the evident limitations of this paper as it does not focus on the institutional domain as an additional area, the analysis of three intersecting domains of German soccer as a sum nonetheless ultimately reveal soccer’s role within multiculturalism as an irrevocable process.

The political transparencies of vernacular culture

Popularity of the Mannschaft and individual players has always been tied to achievement.¹⁸ The pressure on players with a Migrationshintergrund (migration background) to actually perform better than their ethnic German teammates, has long been recorded. As Erwin Kostedde noted, he had to be better than his white teammates because any mistake was regarded as two, three times worse.¹⁹ From the heights of the World Cup win in 2014 to the depths of early defeats in 2018, it would then still not be accurate to say that Germany went ‘from a harmonious diverse society without racism to a deeply fractured multicultural wasteland’²⁰ within just a four-year period. With a strong emphasis on the failures of multiethnic players, however, teams like the Mannschaft quickly become ‘contested terrains’.²¹ Soccer, in other words, may not be ‘a reflection of German debates over multiculturalism, instead it was an arena where battles were actively being fought’.²² One such ‘battle’ – with Boateng, whose father was from Ghana, at the centre – stands out for its timing between two World Cups, for the direct engagement by organized political groups with player diversity, and for the enduring impact, both positive and negative, in and around Germany’s stadiums. But it is far from being an isolated case. There had been previous ‘battles’, for example, when the ultranationalist NPD (National Democratic Party) had printed a brochure targeting Patrick Owomoleya, who has a Nigerian father, ahead of the 2006 World Cup with the slogans ‘White. Not just a football shirt colour. For a real NATIONAL team’ featuring his jersey number, or when the eastern German right-extreme Schutzbund Deutschland (Protection League Germany) had directly attacked Ghanaian-born national player Gerald Asamoah with a pamphlet asserting ‘No, Gerald, you are not Germany. You are FRG’.²³ As such, both incidents expose the racist simplicity of false equivalencies pitting German/white against un-German/person of colour. The episodes, however, stand out not only as short-lived but also as uniformly and quickly condemned across Germany. Politicians on almost all sides as well as fan groups unequivocally condemned the campaigns. And the courts swiftly convicted the perpetrators to prison sentences and fines for defamation and even Volksverhetzung (incitement of racial hatred). Unquestionably, the impending spotlight on Germany as World Cup host fuelled this agreement but the extremists were left weakened nevertheless.

Merely a decade later in 2015, following the arrival of more than 1.3 million refugees in the E.U. as a result of the Syrian Civil War²⁴ and months before Merkel’s final election as Chancellor in 2017, the stance of a new group of assailants was politically similar. When deputy chairman of the then still extra-parliamentary AfD, Alexander Gauland, disparaged Bayern Munich and national team star Jérôme Boateng, however, it was no longer just a fringe politician seeking attention or addressing an echo chamber of radicals. Gauland’s tirades in May 2016 and beyond – set off by his initial comment that people might be fond of Boateng as a player, yet they would not want to see him as their neighbour²⁵ – found more enthusiastic recipients than the peddlers of previous diatribes. While Gauland backtracked on his statement – moving away from specific attacks against Boateng to general conspiracies about Germans’ resentment of asylum seekers as neighbours, etc.²⁶ – it still generated immediate condemnation, even from within the ranks of his own party. It is less important to note the commonality of outrage with previous incidents though as it is to focus on notable differences. For one, in public exonerations of Boateng, the focus rested principally on his on-field ability as centre-back. The AfD’s leader, Frauke Petry, for example, simply tweeted as her party’s repudiation of Gauland’s remarks that Boateng was an exceptional player who deserved to be on the national team.²⁷ And Boateng’s former teammate Benedikt Höwedes used the same social media platform to reinforce the idea that neighbours like Boateng were needed – if the goal was to win international titles.²⁸ Certainly, Boateng’s prowess on the field was undeniable, securing him Germany’s Player of the Year honours later that summer. Still, well-intended or not, even Höwedes’ defence but reinforced the notion that multiethnic players’ acceptance was founded upon their abilities and contributions to Germany. It is not an unconditional acceptance and instead represents an essentializing attitude that evades difficult and broader discussions ‘about migration, integration, and cultural identity’ as well as the acceptance of difference.²⁹ Repudiations of racist insults like this have become all too commonplace beyond the world of soccer, underlining the systemic reluctance to talk about race and racism in Germany. Whereas ‘decades of antiracist activism have led to a willingness to recognize and identify moments of racism’, as Maria Stehle and Beverly Weber have shown, it has led many to deny ‘the reality of racism’ as something systemic.³⁰ The reality is, however, as Crabbe noted, that the vernacular culture of soccer stadiums is a breeding ground for ‘[o]vert racist abuse and their ritual structure [because of the] success […] of right-wing political organisations’.³¹ The documented relationship between right-wing politics and soccer fans is therefore the space where one encounters publicly the ‘racialization of belonging’³² and with it the realization that the spheres of soccer and politics truly are not separate from each other in Germany.³³

By 2016 after all, the major conservative parties in Germany had moved away from deriding the AfD as irrelevant to recognizing its appeal among their own electorate. Having barely missed entry into the German Bundestag in 2013, the AfD was by then already represented in the European Parliament as well as in five of the sixteen state legislatures with up to 24% of the vote.³⁴ It is accurate to state that in this changing political landscape German soccer was evolving more than ever into a political stage. Politicians certainly have always used stadiums, not to mention locker rooms for publicity as Chancellor Merkel did following a friendly match between Germany and Turkey in 2010.³⁵ However, with Germany’s diverse national team makeup, and with a soccer FA in which one out of five had a migration background,³⁶ political gains and ideological battles appeared to progressively shift to the terraces. Expressions of support for Boateng were widespread but Gauland’s attacks crucially unearthed a persistent racist vocabulary even though it had been declared unacceptable and ‘vile’ by Chancellor Merkel. For in the AfD’s statements surfaced a terminology long used by the extreme right that now shifted towards the centre. In the interview in which Gauland apologized for his remarks about Boateng, for example, he goes on to display a litany of scarcely coded right-wing phrasing: ‘the German national team is no longer German;’ fans ‘cheer for soccer, but these multicultural values are still foreign to most;’ ‘does [loyalty] lie with the German constitution or with a political Islam?;’ ‘just as Karl Marx is not responsible for Stalin’s crimes, we are not liable for burning asylum seeker homes.’³⁷ Each of these dog whistles could of course be further unpacked. It suffices to say though that taken en bloc the insinuation of a lack of Germanness within the national team coupled with the xenophobic rejections of difference as well as the threat of physical harm are sound bites that resume isolated attacks from the past as previously seen with Owomoleya and others. The assault on Boateng is certainly not a singular case nor is there a neat linear development from past to present yet the resilience of such attacks – post initial apology and condemnation – highlight these catchphrases now began to resonate more publicly throughout Germany and, more specifically, the vernacular culture of soccer.

Politicians on the right in parties like the AfD now regularly concentrate on soccer events. In 2016, Beatrix von Storch, for example, lamented a loss by the Mannschaft to France (‘Perhaps next time the German NATIONAL TEAM should play again?’) and also honed in on a Facebook-‘Like’ by Antonio Rüdiger (‘He doesn’t represent the values of the national team, but kicks them with his feet. For someone like that there is no spot on the DFB-eleven’), while party spokesperson Jörn König decreed Özil and Gündoğan as distractions and failures following their photo with Erdoğan (‘There are national players who are proud of our country and Ozil and Gundogan [sic] should free up two spots on the national team for players who don’t pay more homage to the Turkish president than they do to the German homeland’).³⁸ This intentional distancing from the diverse reality of German soccer and upholding of vague archetypal nationalist concepts like homeland and national values become readily recognizable. The list goes on but would not even account for similar engagement of AfD sympathizers on social media.³⁹ The latter medium is important though as it exposes the omnipresence of ideas and ‘the relationship between right-wing politics and fan cultures’.⁴⁰ These are not rare comments that can simply be cast aside as ridiculous in nature even as sarcastic and humorous responses to Gauland and others by the media, politicians, and on social networks frequently attempt to do. Not at all surprising then is the resurfacing of AfD slogans among members of populist groups like the PEGIDA movement (Patriotic Europeans Against the Islamization of the Occident) which since its inception in 2014 has been affiliated with rightwing groups and soccer hooligans.⁴¹ The PEGIDA/AfD-embrace is the best known example of the affinity of ultranationalist parties with populist movements and groups like HooNaRa (HooligansNazisRacists).⁴² Moreover, it underscores the stated intent of right-wing parties to draw from and further infiltrate soccer fan groups.⁴³ With the AfD now using the old NPD playbook, the ‘fight for the stadiums’, to borrow Richard Gebhardt’s phrasing, becomes even clearer: ‘For decades, German soccer has had deeply ingrained – if not widespread – far-right fan bases. And for as long, far-right political organizations have been lurking just below the surface […]. Supporters of the new AfD party didn’t materialize out of thin air.’⁴⁴

This shared tactic alone might already explain why some PEGIDA members engaged in a ludicrous campaign in the summer of 2016 against an Italian chocolate manufacturer. Confectionary company Ferrero had launched a special edition of their Kinder Chocolate bars on which they replaced familiar children images with childhood photos of national team players. Not the World Cup winning goal scorer Mario Götze, but rather the images of Boateng and Gündoğan drew the attention of members of a southwestern German chapter of PEGIDA. At first unaware that they were targeting celebrated national players, the members expressed outrage at the thought of including non-white children in a marketing campaign (‘They are really trying to trick us into accepting every kind of rubbish as normal, poor Germany’). Importantly, especially after defenders of Gündoğan pointed out who was depicted on the wrappers, the PEGIDA members maintained their course by adding familiar disqualifiers for non-white German players to their complaints (‘You mean “the Mannschaft”? There’s nothing national about them anymore;’ ‘These are gladiators – therefore slaves – who don’t play for Germany out of conviction, but only for the money’).⁴⁵ Was this a laughable episode? Absolutely, but that does not reduce the broad reach of this episode and the fact that German soccer has visibly become an important ‘contested terrain’ in a national discourse on belonging, acceptance, and multiculturalism; here again materializing as an ongoing process even if marred by setbacks and ugliness.

However, this episode by itself does not reveal to what extent this kind of thinking has become more widespread among Germans – inside and outside the stadiums – than most are willing to admit. Unrelated incidents are supported however by public opinion, for example by a Civey survey in 2018, to reveal the reach of the vocabulary and ideas pushed by political extremists as the stories of Boateng or Gündoğan are neither the beginning nor the end.⁴⁶ While links between identity, immigration, and, in many cases, Islam, as a feared Other, often stand out as unique episodes, the manufacturing ‘of threat and moral outrage on the basis of […] wild imaginations’⁴⁷ is shared by those resentful of non-white players and Germans with multiethnic backgrounds:

Indeed, 80 per cent of respondents to a survey [by Civey] conducted in response to the [Özil-Erdoğan] photoshoot asserted that the players should be compelled to leave the national team. While these demands masqueraded behind a nebulous commitment to an unspecified code of ‘values’ that the players had allegedly violated, the broader horizon of meaning within which these calls for exclusion were made was a different one: the German national team should be manned by true Germans only.⁴⁸

While we can detect the manufacturing of ‘moral outrage’ in many of the documented incidents, admittedly, it is far less easy to prove who incited the racist attacks. But that is exactly what the AfD counts on when demagogues like Gauland deny culpability ‘for burning asylum seeker homes’. In the end, it is the discourse that unmasks them and resurfaces in the context of incidents across the vernacular culture of different leagues: values, lacking commitment to the team, conflicts of interest (i.e. allegiance to other religions, second citizenship, culture), multiculturalism instead of Germanness, etc. Only when national players like Sané and Gündoğan become the targets of attacks at a national team game, as they were in 2019, the media takes notice. Yet, when we see these racist comments attributed not to hooligans on the terraces but to the middle-class fans on the much pricier grandstand, we then appreciate the reach of the discourse from the political realm to the vernacular culture of the stadiums. Witnessed by VFL Wolfsburg radio announcer André Voigt, the indictment of the political right could not be any more explicit:

What the three [attackers] uttered was basically AfD-speak through and through. At some point there was big talk like: “You are no longer allowed to eat Schnitzel gypsy style” or “our wives could be raped”. I don’t know if fear really played a role or if the three were simply victims of populism. Finally, a woman agreed with the three men by saying that after all a great deal in Germany was going wrong.⁴⁹

Fear, racist tirades, and self-victimization inspired and promulgated by populist groups, as Voigt further notes in his interview, have arrived as weekly occurrences in German soccer. AfD-speak, as laughable as it may be, has permeated the vernacular culture of German soccer.

As significant as this high-profile incident are the many unreported cases throughout German soccer as the amateur and youth ranks often ‘sweep a lot simply under the rug’, as youth coaches have admitted.⁵⁰ It is the headlines of episodes involving national team or Bundesliga players that catch our attention. It is at the amateur ranks, however, away from the floodlights, not quite yet at the level of the occupational domain, which this paper will discuss a little later, where as many, if not more of the incidents involving players and coaches are recorded⁵¹: racist insults in the Oberliga (fifth division) by the coach of Rot-Weiß Ahlen against an opposing Togolese player in 2013; racist attacks by players and the coach of Regionalliga (fourth division) side FSV Zwickau against opposing German-Turkish players in 2015; multiple racist incidents by VfB Auerbach players during an U16 match against Hertha BSC Berlin leading to match abandonment; racist taunting by HSV Barmbek-Uhlenhorst fans of an Afro-German player from Meiendorf SV at another Oberliga game; anti-Semitic and racist slurs by Chemnitz FC fans at a 3. Liga game against Bayern Munich II players and their own club management (all three events in 2019); and threats of physical harm and racist abuse by Schalke 04 fans against Borussia Dortmund’s German-Cameroonian talent Youssoufa Moukoko in a Youth Bundesliga fixture in 2020.⁵² As handpicked incidents this is but a small sample showing the recurrence of racist and anti-Semitic incidents on and off the pitch over time at different levels of German soccer. Yet, these are still incidents that garnered at least the attention of regional news outlets, while superficial searches on different social media platforms quickly bring to light even more examples.

What we are left with in many cases is an immediate condemnation of the perpetrators. Often, both teams involved take a strong stance against racialized forms of abuse. In some instances, fans, players, and coaches are immediately expelled from their clubs. In acknowledgement of the vast influence of right-wing ideas promoted by political parties, some clubs have in fact reviewed club bylaws to exclude AfD members from their ranks.⁵³ In the end, the perception of the recipients of racist attacks matters most, from national players down to those who do not occupy the same platform, because denying the presence of racism does not make it so. Likewise, the commitment to official diversity and integration campaigns shared by DFB, clubs, individual players, and some political parties does not make racism non-existent. As already suggested, repudiations of racist insults by either focusing on issues like talent or claiming an absence of racism merely further expose the systemic reluctance to tackle issues of race and racism broadly. It ignores the subtleties of racism and exclusion to which DFB officials and mainstream politicians have added. When Foreign Minister Heiko Maas, a Social Democrat, at the height of the discussion about Özil’s resignation from the Mannschaft, for example, cast doubts on his ability as a soccer player to contribute to discussions about racism in Germany, his intent is very clear, namely ‘[i]t damages the image of Germany when the impression emerges that racism is again becoming socially acceptable … The debate is important, but I don’t think that a professional soccer player is the correct person of reference for this.’⁵⁴ If not the recipient of racist and anti-Islamic affronts, who else might be the right person to talk about racism in German soccer? It appears misguided to disallow a victim to testify at their own public trial.

The culture industry and The Case Jatta

One very public trial in particular, or what might more aptly be described as an endless discovery phase, began to generate imaginative headlines across the media landscape in August 2019 and after a 9-month hiatus reignited in July 2020. ‘The Case Jatta’ is a prime example of representing and racializing sporting bodies in one of most powerful domains of German soccer: the culture industry. ‘The Case Özil’ and ‘The Case Boateng’, to name two others, already touched on the power of the media ‘in which ideas about the relationship between race, nation and entitlement are articulated’.⁵⁵ Pretextually, as cases or Fälle, each reveals the quasi-prosecutorial role occupied by the press in manipulating the verdict in the court of public opinion. The story of Gambian-born Bakery Jatta, who signed with Bundesliga side HSV in 2016 after one year as a refugee in Germany, is convoluted and difficult to present in a linear fashion. In short, in August 2019 the magazine Sport BILD published an investigative report from Germany’s largest tabloid, BILD, claiming evidence that Jatta had entered the country with a false identity while 17 instead of 19 years of age in order to be granted a stay. Despite Jatta and his club repeatedly receiving official confirmation of his identity and legal status from federal and state authorities (including the granting of a residence permit), Sport BILD asserted it had information that Jatta was in actuality a man named Bakary Daffey, who had previously played professionally in Gambia, Nigeria, Senegal, and even on the U20 Gambian national team.⁵⁶ Jatta refuted all claims, his club stood by him and began to include him on their roster in both the 1. and 2. Bundesliga. Nonetheless, Sport BILD continued to run stories on ‘The Case Jatta’, when it was no longer a legal case. They even sent a reporter to The Gambia claiming to be a DFB official to obtain information. After weeks of headlines, the HSV stood accused by their opponents of having used Jatta as a non-eligible player in their line-up only after winning against VfL Bochum, 1. FC Nürnberg, and Karlsruhe SC. The responsible authorities in Hamburg eventually declared that they had obtained Jatta’s birth certificate along with an affidavit from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of The Gambia.⁵⁷ Subsequent news stories by other media outlets soon began to cast doubt on further reporting by Sport BILD and by late August 2019 one of their witnesses contradicted the claims that Jatta and Daffey were the same person.⁵⁸ No further investigation was needed according to the responsible state authority, and Hamburg’s opponents withdrew their objections for the matches in which Jatta played.

Ordinarily, this would have, again, closed most ‘cases’, however, a string of additional investigations followed, again triggered by media reports. First, Sport BILD detailed supposed inconsistencies in Jatta’s paperwork dating back to 2015, prompting a new inquiry. This time, a probe by a Bremen prosecutor ended in yet another closed case just weeks later in 2019.⁵⁹ Then, in July 2020, Jatta’s Hamburg residence was searched and his mobile phone and other electronic devices seized. According to Hamburg prosecutors, there were allegations that Jatta had maintained contact with persons also connected to Daffey.⁶⁰ After no evidence was secured, in September 2020, BILD claimed that they had expert forensic analysis asserting that the facial features of Jatta and Daffey were a 90% match. Finally, in early January 2021, BILD, Sport BILD, and the Hamburg State Office of Criminal Investigation (LKA) opened the most recent chapter in ‘The Case Jatta’. Based only on facial match claims by BILD, despite previous case closures by police and public prosecutors, the LKA commissioned a scientist at the Institute for Biological Anthropology at the southern German Universität Freiburg to determine if Jatta and Daffey were one and the same based on facial features and biomechanics.⁶¹ What may read like a bad movie plot, is so far a singular case in German soccer. It has accordingly been decried as not legally reasonable and seen by many as a campaign by the populist BILD, even a Hexenjagd (witch hunt).⁶² The fact that the tabloid had often been informed ahead of time of various prosecutorial steps and even reported live from location during the search of Jatta’s residence support such criticism. The publisher’s unwillingness to provide any evidence for the claim that photographs of Daffey and Jatta were near matches are reason enough to question the integrity of the reporting.⁶³

Still, in yet other ways the case Jatta is anything but unique and mirrors what we already discussed in the context of other examples. Implicit bias and explicit racism come through in a number of the Sport BILD headlines and reports as it does in articles about the hyped-up controversies surrounding Boateng, Özil, Gündoğan, and others. These types of campaigns against players put on display the power exerted by the media. And they expose in the transfer from media to social media its reach towards the terraces similar to the relationship between politics and soccer. And while the media hunt of Jatta may continue and final headlines could yet be written, some things are already clear. In light of the BILD’s questionable practices and the length of the investigation(s) – 17 months and counting as of January 2021 – the intent of the media has to be examined. In fact, it is tempting to draw comparisons with 1970s German domestic politics in which the hunt for left wing groups like the RAF was fuelled by tabloids like BILD and the powerful Springer Publishing conglomerate. Often baseless accusations of never proven complicity against bystanders, both private and public figures such as the Nobel Prize winning author Heinrich Böll,⁶⁴ thus eerily prefigure what now resurfaces as racially motivated tales aimed at increasing circulation and manipulating the present-day public. As part of the culture industry, the media’s constant focus on proving ‘false identities’ instead of assuming someone’s innocence until proven guilty, as headlines like ‘Facial-Analysis-Assignment! She is to determine if Jatta is really Jatta’ reveal,⁶⁵ illustrate systemic racism within the culture industry not unlike the racial profiling and scapegoating promoted by right-wing parties.

Not a multiethnic player who has to defend his Germanness or belonging to the national team, Jatta instead stands in for a growing number of athletes who find themselves at the intersection of immigrant/refugee status and German soccer.⁶⁶ A player like Jatta is not questioned for belonging as a German (at least not yet), but for belonging in Germany. As media accusations reveal, the interrogation of his and others’ belonging is driven largely by stereotypes and prejudices (false identity; lies about age and playing experience; etc.). While being forced time and again to prove his identity at different stages of a legal ordeal, during periods of slower news cycles, the tabloids’ attention finally turns to Jatta’s performance on the pitch. But even then it is racialized as Jatta’s play is tied to religious difference. In May 2020, for instance, when BILD found itself in between periods of inquiry into Jatta’s supposed false identity, its headlines focused on his on-pitch struggles. Jatta’s performance, however, was relayed as evidence that as a Muslim he was struggling because of fasting requirements during the holy month of Ramadan.⁶⁷ Such worries about fasting and religious beliefs would never cross a German journalist’s mind, for example, if a white Catholic player were to underperform during their Lenten fast. Then again, a black Muslim’s slump can be explained by their faith. Anti-Muslim racism like this plainly materializes as another shared and recurring form of discrimination experienced by high-profile players like Jatta, Shkodran Mustafi, and others.

Notwithstanding unsurprising right-wing chatter on social media seeking the ‘truth’, most reactions to persecution of Jatta are best described as supportive. Even as the CEO of the Springer publishing conglomerate, Mathias Döpfner, continued to stoke the flames in the conservative paper Die Welt in October 2019, lamenting the mainstream media’s ‘systematic’ snubbing of the case and how Jatta should serve as an example of why hatred grows among parts of the public,⁶⁸ some politicians started a debate in the Hamburg Senate (barring the AfD parliamentary group which decried Jatta as an ‘asylum imposter’⁶⁹) and demanded an end to overzealous investigations.⁷⁰ More in line with what we have already seen for other players, club officials and fans, led by HSV Ultra groups, were most vocal in their support for Jatta. Since the first accusations against Jatta in 2019, Ultra groups, like the Castaways, repeatedly expressed their solidarity at HSV games on banners and in chants noting they would always “stand behind” Jatta.⁷¹ In August 2019, the Ultras ForzaHSV made headlines for a display at a league game against VfL Bochum as they connected AfD politician Alice Weidel with the manipulative practices of Sport BILD and then-Schalke 04 chairman Clemens Tönnies who at the time was under pressure for racist remarks: “Whether Sportbild, Tönnies or Weidel. The problem: racism! FRZ HSV’.⁷² Despite the explicit political nature of this support, much of the defence of Jatta fits the narrative we already saw above. Success and integration make acceptance easier for many which means it is neither surprising nor uncommon to emphasize the positivity of a player’s integration and their ability to give something back in return:

… it shows that getting past the significant hurdle of growing accustomed to life in a new country, culture and language is not an impossible task, and it can lead to great rewards. For the authorities in Germany, and indeed for the German society, those stories of success against all odds should serve as a reminder. Refugees are people. They have hopes, dreams and aspirations. They just need someone to believe in them, and they will return the favor with success … .⁷³

Whether, as noted before, lack of success on the pitch will turn the tide against Jatta remains to be seen. For one, in his five years at the HSV he has already gone through rough stretches, and fans’ grumbling has predominantly focused on his play, not his refugee status or ethnicity. More significantly though is that many HSV fans, again spearheaded by Ultra groups, stress the importance of local or regional patriotism over racial or national affiliations as determining their support for Jatta. To them, Jatta is first and foremost a ‘Hamburger Jung’ [Hamburg lad]; the same term of endearment used by fans for players who have gone through youth development at the HSV and, more specifically, for Hamburg natives. While this kind of inclusion may in the end be temporary, its impact on the case can nonetheless be felt. Not only do fans object to and even publicly denounce the actions of the media and culture industry, they inject the discourse with outspokenness adapted by tabloids opposed to those on the right. In this vein, the Hamburger Morgenpost’s front page headline from 1 July 2020 stressed that neither the hunt on Jatta nor silence in this case was acceptable: ‘Jatta? Daffeh? Hamburger Jung.’ The culture industry in this case reports – not manipulates – public opinion. And it once more exposes the extent in which German soccer finds itself at the centre of processing what German multiculturalism may in fact look like and in what direction it may evolve.

The culture of silence and the occupational domains

To dismissively claim in light of the challenges encountered by Jatta and others that the DFB does not combat racism and discrimination throughout its association would of course be a misrepresentation. Perennial initiatives, often in collaboration with the German government or other organizing bodies like FIFA, UEFA, or the German IOC, certainly are positive steps, if only to create room for measures to enforce policies and raise awareness. Observations by Green Party leader Cem Özdemir about the DFB’s commitment to multicultural integration of young players have therefore been highlighted to show how the FA and its clubs, in contrast to the educational system, have done a better job in developing the talents of multicultural youth.⁷⁴ Regardless of whether the association is driven by a commitment to diversity or the desire to develop talent, the DFB must also be seen as a ‘contested terrain’, not unlike the stadiums where openness and support for players of colour or with multiethnic backgrounds are present in the same sections from which racial invectives are hurled. An a priori acknowledgement of the imperfection of the DFB is therefore needed when considering examples that reveal the extent to which the occupational culture of the game is often fraught.⁷⁵ After all, repeated actions and structures of DFB, clubs, managers and others contradict what has been seen as a turn in soccer’s fight against racism. In this context, incidents highlighting an internal culture of abuse and denial within the playing and coaching arenas of German soccer deserve separate attention.

That the occupational arena is full of denials of a presence of racism, should not be a surprise given that this domain is the most systemic or organized of the three highlighted in this paper. The lengthy DFB statement issued after Özil’s retirement from the Mannschaft was already mentioned but it deserves additional consideration because it shows how the DFB’s leadership botched its contribution to debates on multiculturalism and racism.⁷⁶ The FA did not just fuel the flames in what Arno Tausch describes as a Grundsatzdebatte (fundamental debate).⁷⁷ After all, its leadership asked Özil and Gündoğan to explain their meeting with President Erdoğan prior to defending attacks on them thus adding to the lingering discussion about whether Islam belongs to Germany. More broadly, the DFB rejected the very notion that the association, its members, its clubs, etc. could possibly be racist. Why? Because of decades of engagement in diversity and anti-racism campaigns. It is important to repeat this claim as it underscores the simplistic understanding of the DFB in combatting racism and practicing personal accountability. The latter is particularly crucial in the occupational domain when one considers the extent of racist proliferation in clubs, among officials and coaches, and even referees. The omnipresence of incidents throughout this domain exposes its systemic nature, and, as stated at the outset of this paper, the multitude of incidents in the context of organized soccer ranging from youth level to the Bundesliga requires therefore what might appear as a more multi-perspective approach than for the two previous domains. Even if most of the incidents could be dealt with individually in greater detail, a discourse analytic approach, if incomplete, remains nonetheless most productive.

If one were to describe the occupational domain in German soccer as a culture of fear, cover ups, and even intimidation, it would not be hyperbole. Despite the DFB’s efforts to put most of the problems on the shoulders of one person, former national player and integration commissioner Cacau could not possibly fix all the challenges in an organization with 20% of its members from a migration background. Failures and personal missteps by Cacau, who recently resigned from his position after four years, have not helped address issues that have been around for decades.⁷⁸ Systemic racism with a denial of its existence at the top exposes power structures that require players of colour or with multiethnic backgrounds either to be silent about racist incidents or downplay the impact. The burden of proof rests with athletes, when coaches do not believe players or even refuse to accept incidents. Looking back at his playing days in the 1970s, Erwin Kostedde, for example, exposed how he was pressured by his coach to portray Germany in a positive light: ‘I would give interviews and Helmut Schön would tell me to say there’s no racism in Germany. But it wasn’t true! I told them there was racism and he got mad at me.’⁷⁹ Similar demands to ignore or deny the presence of racism, perhaps not unexpected fifty years ago, however, still today plague German soccer at most levels. In December 2019, for instance, Hertha BSC U23 German-Cameroonian player Jessic Ngankam complained about racist insults from supporters and an opposing player of the Regionalliga team Lokomotive Leipzig. While Hertha fans demonstrated their support with banners at the next game much like HSV Ultras had done in support of Jatta (‘Ngankam – one of us’), Ngankam’s own club and coach reacted in a troublesome way: ‘The club however was criticized after taking several days to comment on the incident while Ngankam’s coach, Andreas Neuendorf, initially appeared to play down the incident. “Some say idiot, some say donkey, some say monkey,” the former Hertha and Bayer Leverkusen player told MDR after the game. “Perhaps it wasn’t intended to be racist”’.⁸⁰ Such assuaging of racist incidents is problematic, yet follows a familiar pattern; a pattern of putting the blame on the recipient of the attack or claiming a misunderstanding or accusing someone of being too sensitive.

With claims in the midst of attacks on Özil and Gündoğan that there was no racism in German soccer accompanied by Cacau’s comments that the Sane-Gündoğan incident was but an ‘Einzelfall’ (isolated case), the DFB has frequently set precedents.⁸¹ How else would one read statements by coaches and referees following another confrontation in 2020. Jordan Torunarigha, a German youth national player with Nigerian ancestry, became the target of verbal insults and animal noises in his Hertha Berlin game against Schalke 04.⁸² When Berlin team officials reported the incident, the referee decided that too much time had passed since the incident. And he deemed it too close to the end of the game to enforce FIFA guidelines by stopping the game and requiring the public announcer to ask the crowd to refrain from such abuse. Knowing of Torunarigha’s claims, however, the referee did not think it was too close to the end of the game to issue a red card to the player who had lost his cool in stoppage time and, following a tackle near the sideline, tossed a case of water bottles towards the field. Adding to the referee’s questionable decisions, Schalke officials, from the same club that saw its chairman Tönnies resign a year earlier for racist comments about Africans, effectively dismissed the incident by asserting that it was ‘atypical’ behaviour for Schalke fans and that the responsible ‘Vollidioten’ (total idiots) would of course be held responsible; not a full denial of the racist incident but a characteristic qualifying deflection. Post-match comments by Schalke coach David Wagner added another layer as he issued an apology, welcoming game cancellations to combat racism, but certainly only if both clubs, all officials and referees were aware of racist abuse when it happened, not after the fact. The implication was clearly that recipients of racism (or antisemitism) might not be capable of judging or worse they might not be telling the truth or even be abusing the situation. Incidents like these and others consequently provide a glimpse into the continuing cycle of racist oppression encountered in the occupational domain. Club officials and coaches too often shy away from calling out racism or racists. And, worse, they deny the possibility of racism in the first place.

Coaches casting doubt on the abuse of players, referees failing to enforce the FIFA 3-step-procedure or even racially abusing players themselves,⁸³ sports courts delivering longer disciplinary bans for non-ethnic German players,⁸⁴ club officials issuing counterfactual statements to make their clubs and supporters appear less racist⁸⁵ – racist examples in the occupational domain are readily found throughout regional media coverage. The incidents occur at all levels of German soccer even if they do not always attract the attention of the national media, as Christos Kassimeris underscores.⁸⁶ Away from national and international headlines, the burden of proof for players then ultimately appears to be higher. While multimillionaires on the national team like Özil face serious consequences for speaking out against racism, they are nonetheless in positions to call out abuse and enjoy support from a large fan base. Their standing and popularity translate to positions of power from which they can exert influence. Accordingly, one can see how racist abuse of youth players by coaches might go undetected, and, even once the events come to light, that witnesses might stand with the abusers. An example from one German youth academy may serve to highlight the proximity of racism and denial in the occupational domain. Even a brief analysis shows that while outwardly, youth academies do exactly what Udo Merkel notes in terms of integrating ‘foreigners’ into clubs and society at large,⁸⁷ Germany’s best-known academy must now answer for its systemic problems and confounding reactions to it.

Having graduated not only the likes of Bastian Schweinsteiger and Toni Kroos but also Piotr Trochowski and Emre Can, the Bayern Munich youth academy encompasses numerous junior teams, a residential school for players ages 15 to 18, and is widely considered to be among the best soccer academies in the world. Frequently, its teams are representative of the multicultural make-up of the DFB membership. When news broke in August 2020 that one of the academy’s successful coaches was accused of abusing several of his players for years with racist slurs and even put them through punitive practices, the club’s façade of standing with its players and members against discrimination quickly crumbled.⁸⁸ The club acknowledged it had already internally investigated accusations of abuse in 2018 but did not confirm the mistreatment. Instead the club noted that the coach had been evaluated more positively than all other coaches by its players and separately by parents. As a series of reports by the Bayrischer Rundfunk (Bavarian Broadcasting) from August and September 2020 highlights, additional details materialized in the subsequent weeks and two coaches eventually were fired. Reports brought to light a sordid tale: authenticated chat protocols with racist comments previously shared with the club leadership including Uli Hoeneß and Karl-Heinz Rummenigge; a campus-wide climate of fear that included staff, players, and parents who dared not jeopardize their children’s future; a well-known talent’s move from one youth team to another following his unwillingness to play for a racist coach; and the club’s insistence that something like this could not possibly have taken place given investments in anti-racist initiatives. While the Munich case might be a low point of club internal racism in Germany, it is certainly not the only recorded event and therefore fundamentally challenges DFB claims that racism really is not an issue within the FA. Whether it is coaches’ racist abuse of players as by one of the DFB’s own regional head coaches in 2014 or a club’s documented but repudiated affinity with right-wing and hooligan groups as in the case of FC Chemnitz,⁸⁹ a common feature is the effort to deny racism or silence it when present. Only when such a culture is challenged from within, not by victims of abuse but by outspoken allies like SC Freiburg coach Christian Streich or Bayern star Leon Goretzka, who have stepped up in recent months as important voices against racism and right-wing politics,⁹⁰ then it is a notable step towards combatting inequality and racism beyond official initiatives organized by clubs and DFB.

The irreversible social reality

The ubiquity of racism in German soccer can be traced back a long way and continues to this very day. It appears to shake not only the foundation of many of the DFB’s well-intended diversity and inclusion initiatives but also the entire national multicultural agenda long promoted at the highest levels. That the institution of soccer is an environment which at once is a place of political import and one that as a leisure sphere appears to be removed from politics, as Gehring concludes,⁹¹ generally speaks to the paradoxical tension of race and multiculturalism in German soccer. Multiculturalism, as we have seen, is continually celebrated and promoted, while race and racism remain quasi-official taboo topics and even are denied to be issues at all. We saw this throughout each of the domains discussed in this paper. All of this leads back to the initial suggestion that despite or maybe even because of the litany of racist events in German soccer – as demonstrated by examples from vernacular culture, the culture industry, and the occupational domain – the overwhelming response among soccer spectators continues to be one of defiance against racism and in favour of more inclusivity on and off the pitch. Perhaps this stance comes from fans simply wanting to embrace players as one of their own and therefore rejecting racism as attacks on them. Or is it because the attendance in stadiums reflects the majority of Germans on the outside who for now still embrace more moderate ideals, including a willingness to accept others through tolerance. Either way, soccer proves to be a ‘contested terrain’. Soccer is the proverbial ‘battle zone’ where ‘[d]ifferent groups fight over dominance in stadiums, and it remains to be seen how it plays out, [mirroring] society in that regard’.⁹² Spectators’ appetites for diversity certainly do not mean that they have a keener sense for civic responsibilities and as such would willingly combat racism and xenophobia. Support for a team or an individual player does not have to mean support for multiculturalism. However, if the trial of multiculturalism in Germany has not yet concluded, then cases that are being decided in the court of public opinion can be very instructive. And this court includes Germany’s stadiums. When ethnic German coaches and players together with fans on the terraces show an ‘interest in their country’s redefinition, it becomes apparent that the project of the New Germany is under way’.⁹³ So perhaps our cases help us see how the ‘[t]he rhetoric of the failure of multiculturalism can thus be interpreted as an expression of the discomfort at the demise of an illusion of a “monocultural” society, and the fact that multiculturalism in Germany with all its conflicts, misunderstandings, and fears has become an irreversible social reality’.⁹⁴ It may be hurtful reality, one that certainly is not developing in a linear nor in a predictable fashion, but a reality nonetheless in which society’s struggles are not left behind at the stadium entrance.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Notes

1. Schulze-Marmeling, Der Fall Özil.

2. Müller, ‘Nach Özils Rückzug aus DFB-Elf’ (all translations are my own).

3. Kanstroom, ‘Wer sind wir wieder?’.

4. ‘Racism was never an issue’; Hölter, ‘Manuel Neuer will Spieler’; ‘Erklärung des DFB-Präsidiums’. Particularly the DFB’s statutes condemning racism as a form of discrimination in contrast to its weaker stance on sexism and homophobia are often presented as evidence that the FA is successfully combatting racism.

5. Stehle and Weber, ‘German Soccer’, 104.

6. See Roger, ‘Özil the German’; Kelly, ‘Germany’s “Melting Pot”’; Simon, ‘Cheering Germany’.

7. Kaelberer, ‘From Bern to Rio’, 288, 289. See also Merkel, ‘German football culture’, 248 and 249 who suggests that ‘a new and modern sense of national identity and a playful, non-threatening patriotism […] continues to stun the world’ and that ‘the well-behaved German fans and their light-hearted patriotism have become popular with the media, who appear to be keen to project a softer image of Germanness these days.’

8. Schiller, ‘Siegen für Deutschland?’, 178; Sark, ‘Fashioning a New Brand’, 260; Missiroli, ‘European Football Cultures’, 16.

9. Kennedy, ‘A Contextual Analysis’, 145.

10. Wollenhaupt, Patrioten oder Partyoten?

11. Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 245.

12. Kaelberer, ‘From Bern to Rio’, 289.

13. Clark, ‘Germany’s Angela Merkel’; ‘Merkel zur Flüchtlingskrise’.

14. Gehring, ‘Race, ethnicity and German identity’, 1975.

15. Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 241.

16. Kassimeris, ‘Deutschland über alles’, 763. See also Gebhardt, ‘Kampf um das Stadium’‚ 96, who discusses both the stadium ban on racism and DFB days of action under mottos like ‘Zeig Rassismus die rote Karte’ [Show Racism the Red Card] and ‘No place for racism’. In October 2020, the DFB joined a new national campaign aimed at integration and fighting racism under the motto #MeineStimmeGegenHass [#MyVoiceAgainstHate].

17. Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 242.

18. With German soccer’s multicultural success intertwined with high profile events and accomplishments on the field, Stehle and Weber, ‘German Soccer’, 118, put a warning about its ephemeral nature in the most direct terms, namely that ‘[…] a celebration of the German team could be short-lived, since it appears that, just as in France, multiculturalism might be celebrated only as long as the team is winning’. See also Kaelberer, ‘From Bern to Rio’, 291, and Schiller, ‘Siegen für Deutschland?’, 178.

19. Harrington, ‘Erwin Kostedde’. See also Schiller, ‘Siegen für Deutschland?’, 190, who correctly notes that ‘there can be no doubt that the acceptance of cultural differences is made easier if their representatives contribute significantly to the nation’s success and play’.

20. Gehring, ‘Race, ethnicity and German identity’, 1964.

21. Hartman, ‘Rethinking the Relationships’.

22. Gehring, ‘Race, ethnicity and German identity’, 1973. See also Gebhardt, ‘Kampf um das Stadium’‚ 106, who sees German soccer at all levels as political arenas, even as a ‘Kampfzone’ (battle zone).

23. ‘German far-right NPD’; ‘Rechtsextreme Asamoah-Plakate’. A similar high-profile case of the NPD’s issuing controversial statements targeting multiethnic players took place in 2009 when a party spokesperson described Özil as a ‘Plastic German’ referring to his citizenship (passport) and non-ethnic Germanness as relevant in determining inclusion in the Mannnschaft.

24. ‘Number of Refugees to Europe’.

25. Chadwick, ‘AfD leader’.

26. ‘Warum sich AfD-Vize Gauland nicht für einen Rassisten hält’.

27. @FraukePetry (Frauke Petry). 29 May 2016. 4:04 a.m. https://twitter.com/FraukePetry/status/736830573168218112 (accessed 5 January 2020).

28. @BeneHoewedes (Benedikt Höwedes). 29 May 2016. 5:21 a.m. https://twitter.com/BeneHoewedes/status/736849872003960832 (accessed 5 January 2020).

29. Stehle and Weber, ‘German Soccer’, 107.

30. Ibid, 107 and 108.

31. Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 253. Specifically on political groups and anti-Semitism in German stadiums, see Curtis, ‘Antisemitism and European Football’, 278.

32. Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 252.

33. Gebhardt, ‘Die Mär’, 9.

34. Oltermann, ‘Germany “won’t change policy”’.

35. Gehring, ‘Race, ethnicity and German identity’, 1973.

36. ‘DFB von A bis Z’.

37. ‘Warum sich AfD-Vize Gauland nicht für einen Rassisten hält’.

38. ‘AfD missbraucht Fußball’; ‘“Gefällt” mir’; ‘AfD – Germany’s Ozil’.

39. Not just sympathizers are active online. AfD politicians’ comments often first surface on social media, as the recent clash between Schalke 04 and Westphalian AfD-parliamentarian Stephan Brandner underscores. See ‘FC Schalke 04 kontert’.

40. Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 252.

41. Arzheimer, ‘Every Monday’.

42. Curtis, ‘Antisemitism and European Football’, 285. For more on links between PEGIDA, AfD, and hooligan groups see Kreter, ‘HooNaRa’.

43. See Gebhardt, ‘Kampf um das Stadium’‚ 105, who emphasizes the NPD’s explicit strategy to reach extremist soccer fans, particularly from the 2. Bundesliga downward.

44. Braneck, ‘Far-Right Extremism’.

45. Oltermann, ‘Pegida activists’.

46. ‘Repräsentative Civey-Umfrage für FOCUS Online’.

47. ‘Blaming the Turk’.

48. Ibid.

49. Chlebna, ‘Einer fragte’.

50. Gömmel, ‘Rassismus im Jugendfußball’.

51. Gebhardt, ‘Kampf um das Stadium’, 96; Kassimeris, ‘Deutschland über alles’, 760; Markovits and Rensmann, Gaming the world, 250.

52. Gernoth, ‘Rassistische Pöbeleien’; Knaack, ‘Rassismusvorwürfe’; ‘Hertha Berlin youth team’; ‘Rassistische Beleidigungen’; ‘German Soccer Club’; ‘BVB-Talent Moukoko’.

53. Kopp, ‘Fußballvereine gegen die AfD’.

54. ‘In England lebender Multimillionär’.

55. Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 251.

56. Wessing, ‘Spielt HSV-Profi Bakery Jatta mit falscher Identität?’.

57. ‘Durchbruch im Fall Jatta’.

58. Schiller, ‘Neue Zeugen’.

59. ‘Nichts Neues’.

60. ‘Hausdurchsuchung’.

61. Kopp, ‘Jagd auf HSV-Profi Bakery Jatta’.

62. ‘Nichts Neues’.

63. ‘Kein Ende im Fall Jatta’.

64. ‘Heinrich Böll’.

65. Arndt, ‘Gesichts-Analyse-Auftrag!’.

66. Khan, ‘For Refugees in Germany’.

67. Hesse, ‘Ramadan macht HSV-Star schlapp’.

68. Döpfner, ‘Nie wieder’.

69. ‘HSV-Profi’.

70. ‘Kein Ende im Fall Jatta’.

71. ‘HSV-Ultras’.

72. @ftamsut (Felix Tamsut). 19 August 2019. 6:21 a.m. https://twitter.com/ftamsut/status/1163395675935182849 (accessed 19 August 2019).

73. Tamsut, ‘Opinion’.

74. Özdemir, ‘Integration’. While there remains work to be done in the DFB to combat and enforce its stance on racism, the German FA is undoubtedly much further along in terms of its commitment to stamp out racism compared to sexism and biases against members of the LGBTQ+ community. The fact that racism is described in its statutes as a form of discrimination while sexism merely constitutes an insult underscores this chasm.

75. Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 252.

76. A discussion focused only on the DFB as a ruling- and decision-making body would shed light on what Crabbe, ‘From the Terraces to the Boardrooms’, 252, designated as the ‘institutional domain’. It is beyond the scope of this paper however.

77. Tausch, ‘Muslim Integration’.

78. Meyn, ‘Cacaus Abschied’.

79. Harrington, ‘Erwin Kostedde’.

80. ‘Hertha Berlin youth team’.

81. ‘Rassimus-Ekat’.

82. The following summary of the incident draws largely from in Bark, ‘Herthas Torunarigha’.

83. See, for example, a high publicized case in Fürst, ‘Aus welchem Zoo haben sie dich freigelassen’.

84. Gebhardt, ‘Kampf um das Stadium’‚ 108, suggests that reasons for longer bans of non-ethnic German players are often referees who ignore provocations by ethnic German players that trigger fouls or outbursts.

85. Kopp, ‘Diese “Dinge”’.

86. Kassimeris, ‘Deutschland über alles’, 761.

87. Merkel, ‘German football culture’, 247.

88. The following facts about the Munich academy scandal are detailed in an article by Wolf, ‘Rassismus auf dem FC Bayern Campus?’.

89. Ashelm, ‘DFB nach rassistischer Entgleisung unter Druck’; Kreter, ‘HooNaRa’.

90. ‘Streichs Brandrede gegen Rassismus, Hass und AfD’; ‘Goretzka berichtet von Anfeindungen von AfD-Unterstützern’.

91. Gehring, ‘Race, ethnicity and German identity’, 1976.

92. Tamsut, ‘It’s still there’.

93. Sark, ‘Fashioning a New Brand’, 260.

94. Amir-Moazami, ‘Buried Alive’, 23.