10/14/2025
Justus Wilhoit
BERLIN – “Ard fussball rechts”, “Babelsburg 03”, “Neonazis in stadion,” and “Berlin dynamo – BFC.” These are not just random phrases you’d hear from an everyday football fan in Germany. They’re the names of various football clubs around Berlin, and perhaps more interestingly, the names of Youtube videos recommended to me by Nabil Rayk, a server who became our cross-cultural host. He explained how neo-Nazism and far-right rhetoric have seeped into a sport so deeply loved across the country.
During our nearly four-hour dinner at Ebn Tamshah, a small, lively Palestinian restaurant named after Nabil’s great-grandmother, each student took turns sharing their ideas for our final reporting project. As we did, our special guests, journalists Joshua Yaffa and Barbara Demick, offered thoughts on how each story could take shape.
When I presented my idea about far-right rhetoric in German soccer, Yaffa and Demick shared their opinions, but so did Nabil. Between serving plates of hummus and sweet potatoes, he urged me to pay attention to the symbolism behind club colors and recalled his own childhood playing football in Berlin when he was 10 years old. It was often the parents, he said, not the players, who fueled hostility. They would tell their kids to “kick that Arab, kick that N-word,” he recalled.
After dinner, I stayed behind to keep talking with Nabil, eager to learn more about Germany’s soccer culture. When I asked why he thought parents so often perpetuate conflict, he didn’t hesitate. “Sport is a replacement for war,” he said.
Nabil isn’t surprised that racism and xenophobia have found a foothold in soccer through the rhetoric of the far-right Alternative for Germany (AfD) party. “This sh** was there before,” he said. He told me he sees the party’s influence most clearly at smaller, amateur clubs, where public scrutiny is minimal. “‘We can’t kick them out of the country, it’s too complicated, but we can f*** them today,’” he said, mimicking what he’s heard shouted on the sidelines.
He also noticed how players of color are treated differently depending on their performance. “When a Black player does well, it’s like, [clapping] ‘nice’… But if he plays bad, it’s [imitating monkey noises], ‘you ape!’” he said. “They throw bananas and stuff.”
When I asked why sport so often becomes a stage for hate, Nabil claimed that people “need a reason to get drunk, … to get this inner demon out.”
After years of being targeted for his skin color and Palestinian background, Nabil has developed what he calls an “I never get hit by racism” mindset, and hopes players at larger clubs can do the same.
Still, he’s aware of the contradictions: those who harbor resentment toward immigrants and people of color also depend on them. “They need us, they need African players,” he said.
