A team of two halves

They do not, of course, stand a chance — but then they never have. One of the poorest clubs in the Israeli league, they have no stadium, their annual budget is just 11 million shekels (£1.3 million), compared with the 40 million shekels enjoyed by Israel’s biggest club, Hapoel Haifa, and some of the players hold down other jobs to make ends meet. Nowhere is the economic gap between Arab Israelis and Jewish Israelis more obvious.

Nevertheless, Sakhnin beat team after team to win Israel’s State Cup in May and become the first Israeli-Arab team to represent the country in an international football tournament. Even more significantly, this is the first time that thousands of Jewish Israelis will be cheering them on.

Sakhnin is an ugly, impoverished place of 24,000 people, fenced in on two sides by Israel Defence Force outposts and with virtually no room to grow. The main street is potholed, there are no real pavements, buildings are going up haphazardly and, as in many Israeli-Arab towns, it has a temporary feel, as if it has been put up hastily and could just as easily be taken down. Most of the population is under 18 and unemployment is 14.5 percent — a figure that does not include women.

The mood, however, is ecstatic. The residents have gone football- crazy. Children practise their skills on the street and donate their pocket money to the team. Pictures of the players are plastered everywhere. “When Sakhnin won the Cup and went through to Uefa it was the first time in my life I felt proud to be an Israeli Arab,” says Ramses Aboyounis, 28. “It was a sign to me that we can be strong, and can make achievements in other areas too.”

Mohammed Bashir, Sakhnin’s mayor, acknowledges that the win has changed the whole atmosphere. “Blessings pour in from Jews and Arabs across Israel,” he says. “We are amazed by the strength of goodwill.”

“I feel very proud of what we have achieved,” says Nidal Shalata, 29, who has played for Sakhnin since 1995. “We have broken so many records, and we did it with very few resources.”

Shalata has a right to be proud. Three days a week he teaches at the local primary school from 7am to 1.30pm. After lunch and a short rest he heads off to the team’s training ground for a four-hour session.

Abbas Swan, the team captain, runs a football school, several other players also teach and the team’s spokesman, Kalaila Monder, is the manager of the Sakhnin branch of one of Israel’s national health funds. He carries out team business between organising doctor’s appointments and stamping prescriptions.

When Sakhnin won the State Cup the Prime Minister, Ariel Sharon, promised the team that they would have a stadium in two months. Four months later only a quarter of the necessary cash has been raised.

“It is a humiliation that the Government has not adopted this project,” says Gazal Aboraya, manager of the Jewish-Arab Institute for Peace in Galilee and spokesman for the Sakhnin municipality. “People feel frustrated. Israel must look at this as a strategic project for the whole of the country. It is a chance to use sport to build an authentic bridge between Jews and Arabs.” Building bridges is certainly what Sakhnin is managing to do. The club has 12 Arab, seven Jewish and four foreign players, and a Jewish coach. “We are like a family,” says Swan. “This is the basis of our success. We respect one another and participate in each other’s lives.”

Eyal Lachman, the coach who joined Sakhnin last year and is the force behind the team’s transformation, agrees. “There’s no difference between the Jewish or Arab players, and no one talks about differences,” he says. “As a result, the relationship is natural and warm. When I arrived I was welcomed with true Arabic hospitality.”

The fact that such a team can emerge from Sakhnin is significant. In 1976 six people were killed in the city in a demonstration against Jewish settlements. Since then, Land Day demonstrations have taken place in the city every year.

In October 2000, at the start of the intifada, violence erupted once more when protesters from Sakhnin and surrounding communities blocked a main road and assaulted Jewish drivers. Police snipers opened fire and 13 Arabs were killed, two from Sakhnin.

The Arab players often experience blatant hostility. When they play some Israeli teams, particularly in Jerusalem, fans scream racist taunts and threats such as “death to the Arabs”. “It’s disgusting to hear them say these things but we try to ignore it, and when I’m playing I don’t think about it,” says Swan.

Some Jewish fans were offended, however, when Sakhnin’s Arab players did not sing the Israeli national anthem at the State Cup final. “We don’t know the words,” says Shalata.

Sakhnin’s success, however, seems to have opened up a rare opportunity for dialogue, and city residents are determined not to lose it. The truth is that most people in Sakhnin, like most ordinary Jews and Palestinians, are worn out by the fighting. More than this, they are tired of being outsiders.

“This is a cry to the Israeli people that we want to become part of their society,” says Aboraya. “For years, the Israeli Government has made the mistake of pushing the Arab minority to the fringes. We are treated as third-class citizens and never allowed to feel Israeli. But we don’t want to be outsiders any more. Our doors are open. We are Palestinians, Arabs, and Israelis.”

Shalata says: “When we play against Newcastle all of Europe will see a team of Jews and Arabs playing together. It’s time the politicians came to Sakhnin to learn from the players how to live together in peace.”