Threads of resistance: Unravelling the journey of the Palestinian keffiyeh

A Yale University professor called me, the only Muslim student in a small Hebrew class, to her office and told me that wearing a keffiyeh to class was offending my Jewish-American classmates.

This was ten years before the events of October 7.

Much water has flown down the West River since then, and the keffiyeh has become an even more ubiquitous and globally recognised symbol of solidarity with Palestine.

Even more so since the eventful day when Hamas launched an unprecedented attack on Israel, which was followed by one of the most vicious and indiscriminate Israeli bombardment on Gaza's helpless civilian population.

Across the world, as support for Palestine grows, the keffiyeh – also called the kufiya – too has become the symbol of protest and resistance.

The traditional scarf, with slight variations in colour and design, has been historically worn by Arab men. The black and white keffiyeh became synonymous with the Palestinian struggle in the '30s, and was then largely popularised by Yaser Arafat, the charismatic and lovable leader of the Palestinian Liberation Movement.

It is now weaved, traded and worn worldwide, but one last factory standing in Hebron (Al Khalil), Palestine, still makes authentic Palestinian keffiyeh.

"Particularly after the Israeli authorities banned the Palestinian flag for almost three decades (1967 – 1993), the keffiyeh took its place as a global expression of Palestinian identity," according to the company Hirbawi's website.

Hirbawi has been in business since the 1960s, making and exporting keffiyehs worldwide in small numbers. Even Arafat is said to have gotten his keffiyeh from them.

Rania Mustafa, the executive director of the Palestinian American Community Center (PACC) in New Jersey, says she went to Hirbawi in 2017 to get one of these keffiyehs.

"I think the reason why keffiyeh stands for resistance, other than the symbolism in its design, is this weaving process. Everything has to happen in unison. It was like an orchestra with all the machines working together," Mustafa tells TRT World.

"The operator would start one machine, fix another, make one go slower, and the other faster. I bought so many keffiyehs to bring back to the US. So now every time I go to a rally, and someone tells me they lost theirs, I gift them one of mine."

Everyone wants a keffiyeh

Azar Aghayev, the US distributor for Hirbawi, tells TRT World that the demand for keffiyehs has skyrocketed since the war started. They used to get a few hundred daily website visits, and now they are getting several thousand. However, it has not been easy to match the demand with supply.

The workers of the factory cannot always make it to work on time or at all because of Israeli military checkpoints.

Aghayev says that since the Israeli offensive in Gaza started, the checkpoints have been even more difficult to manage for Palestinians in the occupied West Bank.

Soldiers started to ask not just for their ID and permits like they used to but also started to check their mobile phones, private messages, photos, apps like Telegram as well as their social media.

Traditionally, December has been a regularly high-demand period for the Hirbawi factory, adds Aghayev, because people buy keffiyehs as Christmas gifts for friends and family.

According to Aghayev, most of their buyers are not Muslim or Arab but people from all walks of life. Recently, a Jewish organisation that is sympathetic to the Palestinian struggle made a bulk purchase for their group.

However, it has not been easy to restock. He says they have been facing obstacles every step of the way – from importing raw materials to customs and exporting the final product.

"We had trouble clearing customs in the US for the first time in the last ten years, then had our shipping account deactivated suddenly without any explanation, so we could not ship keffiyehs to customers."

'No one is safe'

The increased support for Palestine has not always been welcomed in Europe or the US.

France banned pro-Palestine protests and fined a protester 135 euros for wearing a keffiyeh. Germany banned wearing the keffiyeh in schools in Berlin, calling it a "threat to school peace".

In the US, Ashish Prashar and his toddler son were attacked by a Jewish woman while the father was wearing a keffiyeh. She threw her hot coffee on them at a playground in Brooklyn, New York.

The perpetrator turned herself in, pleading not guilty and was cleared of her charges.

Prashar is not Palestinian, or Muslim, or Arab. He's British-Punjabi.

Rania Mustafa says it was heart-wrenching but not surprising to learn about the attack on three Palestinian college students wearing keffiyehs in Vermont.

"No one who is Palestinian or supports Palestine is safe in America right now. The way the media spins things and politicians blindly supporting what is happening in Israel and completely dehumanising Palestinians, it was only a matter of time before something like this happens," she says.

She adds there is nothing offensive about the keffiyeh. "The history of keffiyeh is intergenerational. It is about saying we will see a free Palestine. There is nothing offensive about what it stands for, it is a symbol of hope. To take that away is intimidating, but people are trying to hold their ground."

Aghayev feels that while one person wearing a keffiyeh may be targeted verbally or physically, it will become safer as more and more people wear it. Mustafa agrees.

"The silencing is meant to silence Palestinians and Palestine supporters. It is purposeful, it is terrifying and it is intensifying. There is so much effort to silence people in a way that did not exist even after 9/11," she says.

"If you are targeting what we wear and say, what comes next? It is really scary to think about what comes next. Our people are actively facing genocide, but we are posed to be evil people who need to be silenced."

Covering faces with keffiyehs

One of the arguments about campus safety has come from the fact that students sometimes wear the keffiyeh on their faces to cover up their identity. Similar images come out of Palestine, where civilians in protests are also seen covering their faces with keffiyehs.

This comes amidst 'doxxing' and increased efforts to publicly identify students who support the Palestinian cause, resulting in their facing backlash for attending protests or signing open letters that express solidarity with Palestinians.

The situation is much more dire in occupied Palestine.

An activist of the Youth Against Settlements in Tel Rumeida, who is organising protests against the construction of illegal settlements on occupied Palestinian lands, told Amnesty International, "Before 2021, the facial recognition technology was only at the checkpoints, but since 2021, it's in the hands of every soldier in their mobile phones. The soldier scans our faces with the phone camera, and suddenly their behaviour towards us changes because they see all the information."

These facial recognition technologies lead to unlawful and arbitrary arrest and interrogations at the military court of Israel, which is the court that all Palestinian civilians in the occupied West Bank are subject to.

Cultural appropriation?

As the support for the Palestinian struggle grows globally, thousands of people who are not Palestinian, Arab or Muslim are starting to wear the keffiyeh in solidarity.

Simultaneously, there is an ongoing cultural appropriation conversation in the West about whether it is okay to wear something from a different culture that is not their own.

Mustafa thinks it is okay as long as it is done with respect and care. She says that whenever she sees someone wearing a keffiyeh, she feels an instant connection and a sense of safety.

As an example of when it is not okay to sell or buy the keffiyeh, she brings up the Israeli appropriation of the scarf. She points out that some Israeli designers and vendors are putting the star of David on the keffiyeh and selling it.

The website that currently lists IDF-themed keffiyeh is not an isolated phenomenon.

In 2016, Israeli fashion designer Dodo Bar Or made an entire collection out of the keffiyeh fabric and patterns.

Phillip Weiss wrote for Mondoweiss, stating "I can't imagine Dodo Bar Or is considering the sentiments of 20 percent of the Israeli population, let alone the millions under occupation a few miles away. Many are sure to be offended by these clothes."

There is a longer history of Zionist settlers from Europe appropriating or attempting the erasure of Palestinian culture.

According to the National Library of Israel, "members of the Hashomer organisation, most of whom were Ashkenazi Jews, but who wore keffiyehs and abayas in an attempt to resemble the country's Bedouin residents."

Both Aghayev and Mustafa agree that they have never experienced this level of support for the Palestinian cause.

"I have never seen this many people wear the keffiyeh, ever. It is a beautiful sign of solidarity. It shows that more people than ever are asking honest questions with open hearts and minds. The truth is coming out. No one who does a little bit of research on this issue ever ends up a zionist. They all end up becoming activists for the cause of Palestine," Mustafa says.

Brand strategist and creative director Dalia Jacobs told CNN that she wears a keffiyeh made in Al Khalil while travelling and feels like she is "carrying home on my shoulders".

For others, it is an emotion. And also the leitmotif of Palestinian identity.