Co-existence in Kirkuk

"We have everything in Kirkuk - Kurds, Arabs, Turkmen and Christians, and we all get along together," says Ramyar Ahmed, the team's handsome and amiable captain. "That is the big difference between Kirkuk and other cities in Iraq. We respect others, and we co-exist."

Kirkuk has long been caught in the middle of a political tussle between the Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) in Irbil and the Iraqi central government in Baghdad. Although the Kurds don't form a majority here, they are the biggest ethnic group in Kirkuk and they claim that the city rightly belongs in their autonomous region. Baghdad disagrees, but the Iraqi government's stubbornness over Kirkuk probably has more to do with the city's plentiful oil reserves than it does with its desire to protect its delicate ethnic mix.

The city's football club sits in the middle of this mess. It plays in both the Iraqi and the Kurdish leagues, and while Ramyar Ahmed is on the Kurdish national team, another player, Farhan Shakor, plays for Iraq. Whatever their ethnicity, all the people of Kirkuk are passionate about their team - 8,000 fans regularly pack into their ground, which has an official capacity of just 2,000.

The events of the past three weeks in Iraq have played out rather well for the Kurds in Kirkuk. As the Iraqi National Army crumbled, the Peshmerga - the KRG's armed forces - moved in to fill the security vacuum. The Kurds have taken control of Kirkuk's military bases and checkpoints, and 30 miles (50 kilometers) to the south of the city they are holding the frontline against the forces of the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS), the al-Qaeda derived terrorist group that stormed into Iraq on June 10.

Kirkuk has been a dangerous and unstable place ever since the start of the sectarian violence in Iraq, but most residents say that it has been markedly more peaceful and secure since the Peshmerga took control - even though some of its minorities have expressed disquiet about the fact that they have become part of a de facto Kurdish state.

At Kirkuk FC, however, the Kurdish takeover offers an altogether different set of possibilities. The players, who include both Sunnis and Shiites, are hoping that the events that have brought Iraq to brink of collapse may save their team from plummeting into the financial abyss.

For the past three years Kirkuk FC has fallen into a politically fuelled funding gap. The club cannot get money from the KRG because Kirkuk is not officially part of the Kurds' semi-autonomous region - even if they wish it were. But Baghdad has not been providing them with funds either - probably, says Serwan Nejim, the team's financial officer, because they do not want to give money to a team that includes so many Kurdish players.

For three seasons the team limped on, begging for donations from wealthy benefactors just to afford the fuel to take the team to away games. Last season their money woes forced them to drop out of the Iraqi league. And then, in November, the cash ran out altogether - Kirkuk FC told its players that it could no longer afford to pay them.

"I tried to explain to the team that this is about sport, not money," Ramyar Ahmed told DW. "But they were only getting paid just enough to survive anyway. Once they lost that it was very hard to motivate them."

The team had started the season well - they were top of the league when the news about the salaries broke. After that they slipped down to fifth. Now the team is on strike - they are refusing to play or practice until they are paid their wages.

"I don't blame them," said Serwan Nejim. "I'm on their side because it is their right to get paid."

Serwan was the only person there when we visited Kirkuk FC, keeping the club's administration ticking over in the hope that the players will soon return. He explained the club's proud history and its undignified present as he took us on a tour of the ground.

In the dusty trophy room he held up the club's last piece of silverware - the trophy they won in 2001 when they were promoted to Iraq's first division. Out on the parched and bumpy pitch, he pointed to the faded grandeur of the spectators' stand.

"This ground was built by the British in 1947," he explained. "It used to be the best ground in Iraq, it's unique. Now nobody wants to play here."

Without funds, the club can't afford to maintain the ground of which it was once so proud. Serwan pointed to a huge crack in the glass of the executive box. "The owner did that during the last game of the season," he said. "One of our players missed a goal so he punched it." Serwan didn't know when the club would have enough money to repair this unsightly reminder of their last defeat.

Should Kirkuk stay in Kurdish hands, however, the future will look a lot brighter for the team. They will officially fall under the funding obligations of the KRG, and will be able to compete on an equal footing with other teams in the Kurdish league once again.

What annexation by the Kurds might mean for Kirkuk's rich multicultural mix is less clear, but Ramyar Ahmed insists that political hatred will never seep onto the pitch. "I believe that the Arabs and Turkmen players will stay even if we become part of Kurdistan," he said. "We have a history together here."

Meanwhile, neither Ramyar nor Serwan are worried by the prospect of never playing in the Iraqi league again.

"It is impossible that we will play in the Iraqi league next season anyway," said Serwan. "The country is collapsing. This is game over for Iraq."