“Some people say St Pauli are all about tolerance so why do you not tolerate the fascists? I say, no, f*** you. We are not speaking to them.” It is at this point in the conversation that it becomes clear Oke Gottlich is not the typical football club president.
“I don’t know how you can say this,” he says, mischievously. “I am a really established, old, white-haired guy who looks like nearly like every president in the Bundesliga. Are we writing a new chapter by having another old man being the president of St Pauli?”
It is the perfect response, the sarcasm making his point about privilege and diversity, while hinting at the truth. Gottlich is, in fact, very different to the rest. Because this is not the typical football club president. And St Pauli are not the typical football club.
These pirates from Germany’s port city have become football’s most famous left-wing club, the epitome of the fan culture that has come to define the Bundesliga. That fame has been achieved despite only eight seasons in the top division. This will be their ninth.
They are back in the Bundesliga after a superb season under new Brighton boss Fabian Hurzeler. “Honestly, he is a great coach.” The aim is to stay there. But much more than that, St Pauli intend to make their presence felt while they are in the top division.
“We want to play with courage, be a little bit cheeky and steal some points, disturb the Bundesliga. We are really happy to be bringing some new colour and bringing our voice. I have always said that football is our platform to bring our values to the most people.”
There is no place quite like the Millerntor, a Nazi-era bunker casting an evocative shadow. Its location off the infamous Reeperbahn, Hamburg’s red-light district, is part of its appeal. “The image of the club is born to a really huge extent with the stadium.”
Gottlich is St Pauli through and through. There are those who remember his presence on the terraces alongside the punks, but for the past decade he has been the president, the man charged with bringing success on the pitch, but maintaining their values off it.
He would not be identified as a punk these days. “But I am someone who is at least creative and definitely on the left of society.” His aim is to show that this can work. “Being left of centre does not mean that we should not want to be successful,” he says.
“It is the first time that the board has really come from the stands. I cannot deny there is a bit of motivation to show that supporters can still be professional in this commercial world and that membership-driven clubs can succeed and still take care of the community.”
Gottlich is overtly political much of the time but eager to stress his sense of fun. When he talks of the “really emotional journey” he has been on, his terrace memories are not just of fighting fascism. “It was also about drinking and puking in the stands,” he admits.
“This city is more colourful, more diverse, and the power of that community is created inside the stadium. Friendships are forged, marriages.” This could apply to any club? “Then, after the match they are going to a demonstration against fascism.” Perhaps not.
This time, St Pauli are the lone representatives of Hamburg in the top division, their great neighbours HSV, former champions of Europe, still languishing in the second tier. “This is new for us. Maybe we are this left-wing colourful elephant,” he suggests. Out of place.
“But this is something that we like. Traditionally, this is what the city of Hamburg is all about. We are a gateway to the world because of the harbour. We are more welcoming. It is a city of opportunity.” He pauses. “And then, we are also kind of depressed too.”
Over the course of an hour, Gottlich rails against modern football in a way that is particularly admirable given the timing of his frustrations. St Pauli are on the eve of their Bundesliga return, a packed house awaiting his team at the Millerntor. He is excited.
And yet, that does not blunt his appetite for change. This is a competition that pits his team against Bayern Munich, clubs funded by giants of the automobile and pharmaceutical industries, as well as energy-drink manufacturers. It is, he argues, barely fair.
He talks of FIFA “misusing their power” in expanding the Club World Cup. “In the end, it is just a different wording for a Super League.” He bemoans free-market capitalism and the rise of autocracies in Hungary and Turkey. “Potentially, the United States too.”
In football, he is agog at how the market is “bringing bad habits” from a compliance perspective. “There are agencies working with players and coaches at the same club. How can that be? A coach is bringing five players onto the payroll. This is crazy.”
There is a familiar criticism of St Pauli. The logic goes that it is incongruous for a club whose fans wave Che Guevara flags and pride themselves on being left-wing to become the commercial machine that it has. The skull and crossbones motif is everywhere.
What started as a fan-led symbol is now sold in the club shop. Magnus Carlsen, the great chess champion, has called St Pauli the coolest brand in Germany. Does Gottlich see any issue with what they have become? “No, because it is authentic,” he says.
“You have to keep in mind that this is not a story coming from the board or the marketing people. This is the story of the club. In the ’90s, people were more or less squatting inside the stadium because they were engaged in the anti-gentrification movement.
“Of course, not everything about Che Guevara is just perfect. But at St Pauli, these are things we discuss. This is also something that St Pauli stands for. We are a club where we have those debates. Sometimes it is a fine line but we have a vocal community.”
The idea of selling naming-rights for the Millerntor has been rejected. They have decided to no longer accept money from betting companies. Gottlich estimates that they are losing out on as much as €5m as a result. “We are keeping our values alive,” he insists.
“We are not going to sell our stadium. We are not going to allow certain sponsors to greenwash or sportswash us. This is maybe different from others clubs who would say go for it if offered millions. For us, it has to fit with the stories that we want to tell.”
What stories do they want to tell? “We want to change the world a little bit. I am not being naïve or utopian but green energy, climate change, diversity, financial fair play, we want to be a platform for these things. We want St Pauli to be a community of activists.”
There is a feeling that this has never been more important. “There is growing racism and fascism in Germany. Opponents of democracy are taking over our parliaments.” St Pauli played a cup game in Halle on the eve of the Bundesliga season and experienced this.
“That is a region of Germany where there are a lot of far-right people. This is not how we want to see our future. Our fans are standing against it. This is something that we want to do. We want to use our different voice, our bigger platform. It is not a marketing gag.”
There are plans for the roof to be covered with solar panels. The aim is for the club to be completely sustainable. There are plans to form a cooperative in the autumn, a fund-raiser. “We always have plans and dreams. It is about finding the resources,” he says.
“We are not going to have just one investor, we will have 40,000 of them. But, however much money you give, you will only get one share. We are not only saying a different football is possible but we are saying a different monetisation of football is possible.”
St Pauli will be able to showcase that to the world now they are back in one of its biggest leagues. Can they stay up? “On an economical level, it is unfair, for sure, and this needs to be stated every time,” says Gottlich. “But that is not to say we do not have a chance.”
Welcome to St Pauli. No fascists allowed.
Watch St Pauli vs Heidenheim live on Sky Sports Mix this Sunday; kick-off 4.30pm