Palestinian kaffiyehs have been flying off the shelves at KUVRD, Seevana Hawari’s Arab heritage streetwear brand. The Palestinian-Canadian entrepreneur is now sold out of the traditional black-and-white scarf, receiving multiple inquiries each day about when it will be restocked.
“We’ve definitely seen an increase in demand and we’re unable keep up with it at the moment,” she told the Star, noting it isn’t just Palestinian Canadians looking to buy kaffiyehs, but also other Canadians from a range of ethnic backgrounds.
The traditional garment has gained increased visibility and popularity in recent weeks. Amid the billowing flags and sea of handmade signs, the kaffiyeh has become instantly recognizable at pro-Palestinian rallies around the world. Some protesters wear the garment on their head, its checkered designs running down to their shoulders. Others wrap the cloth around their neck, like a scarf covering their mouth and nose.
But no matter how it’s worn, the Palestinian kaffiyeh is more than a piece of headwear. What once was a practical accessory, meant to shield users from the Middle East’s scorching, arid climate, has turned over the decades into a charged political symbol — appropriated by some, a source of pride for others and a magnet for controversy.
For some Palestinian Canadians and their allies, the kaffiyeh is a sign of solidarity and peaceful resistance.
“Yes, it’s just a piece of cloth, but it’s also much more symbolic than that,” said Mayasa Swadi, an Iraqi Canadian who has attended and organized her own pro-Palestinian rallies, including silent protests around downtown Toronto. “I’m a very emotional person. So for me, when I wear it and I’m walking outside, it feels like I’m carrying the Palestinian cause with me.”
The accessory has a long and complex history, going back thousands of years to the Levant. Traditionally, it was worn by men, particularly farmers, and used as protection from the sand and desert heat. Today, it can be commonly found throughout the Arab world.
The Palestinian version of the garment remained unpoliticized for much of its history. It wasn’t until the 1930s when the headpiece became a symbol of Palestinian nationalism — an association further cemented by former Palestinian political leader Yasser Arafat, who often wore the kaffiyeh, perhaps most famously when he signed the Oslo I Accord with then Israeli prime minister Yitzhak Rabin and U.S. president Bill Clinton in 1993. Arafat was seen as a hero to many Palestinians, while many Israelis considered him a terrorist.
The Palestinian kaffiyeh that’s commonly found at protests today consists of three patterns. The predominant fishnet design represents the Palestinian sailors and the Mediterranean Sea, while the olive leaves symbolize perseverance, strength and resilience, explained Hawari. The bold lines that run through the fabric represent “trade routes of natural and cultural merchant exchange.”
Recently, amid the Israel-Hamas conflict, the scarf has faced similar scrutiny to pro-Palestinian rallies, with some questioning if it’s a sign of solidarity or an endorsement of Hamas terror attacks.
Last month, authorities in Berlin gave schools permission to ban the kaffiyeh, noting in a bulletin the item threatens to “endanger school peace.” In Philadelphia, a teacher told local media how she was confronted by a man yelling at her because of her black and white scarf.
There have been multiple controversies in the past as well. In 2007, Urban Outfitters was criticized for seemingly co-opting the Palestinian kaffiyeh and marketing it as “anti-war woven scarves.”
Hawari said it’s “ridiculous” seeing some of the claims online, linking the kaffiyeh to terrorism or Hamas.
“I think it’s ignorance and people being uneducated,” said Hawari, who has been wearing her kaffiyeh for as long as she can remember.
It’s more than just a clothing accessory for Hawari; the headpiece is part of her family’s legacy.
Her grandfather, Ahmed Al Bulbul, established a textile factory in Jericho in the 1950s, where he produced kaffiyehs. After he was exiled from the West Bank in 1967, Al Bulbul started a new factory in Amman, Jordan. Though he died in 2006, the factory is still operated by Hawari’s uncles. And she, herself, sells the kaffiyehs made by her family through KUVRD.
“So, the kaffiyeh has such a significant meaning to my heritage, but also in keeping my grandfather’s legacy alive,” said Hawari.
Willa Holt, communications co-ordinator for Independent Jewish Voices, said the group has no concern with Palestinian Canadians wearing the kaffiyeh, noting it’s a symbol of Palestinian liberation.
“It’s a sign of community and peoplehood. It’s a shorthand for the Palestinian struggle, not for anything else,” said Holt, whose group works for what it calls a “just peace in Israel-Palestine based on principles of equality and human rights.”
Holt added it’s deeply problematic that some people are equating the kaffiyeh with terrorism: “To impute anything else onto it is a way to invalidate Palestinian-ness.”
Becca Wertman-Traub, director of research for the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, said the context of how the kaffiyeh is used is important.
“When a Palestinian person is wearing it as a scarf, signifying something of their identity, and they’re wearing that in their own time, that’s one thing,” she said. “But I think what we’re seeing at some of the rallies, which kind of takes it to a different context, is when some people are using the kaffiyeh as a way to mask their identity while they’re yelling hateful remarks. That’s most concerning for us.”
Toronto police noted last month they’ve seen the rate of reported hate crimes — both antisemitic and Islamophobic incidents — triple since the Israel-Hamas war began Oct. 7, compared to the same period last year.
Swadi has experienced hate first-hand while protesting and wearing her kaffiyeh. As she and her friends participated in silent protest outside the Consulate General of Israel on Oct. 27, a man walked past her and yelled, “F—ing coward!”
Despite the increased scrutiny and attention placed on the kaffiyeh, Hawari said many Palestinian Canadians and their supporters, including non-Arabs, have become more interested in the garment’s history.
Swadi, meanwhile, said she’s not going to stop wearing the Palestinian kaffiyeh, despite what other people think.
“I’m very steadfast in what I believe in and the Palestinian cause is something that’s very close to my heart.”
