Loading ...
The Last Keffiyeh
Mimi Zaid lingers at the Canal Street side-walk stand, looking indecisive. After twenty minutes of gazing at the multi-colored selection, she points to the purple tinged keffiyeh scarf, looks at the Chinese merchant, and says, “That’s that Palestinian scarf right? Yah, I’ll take that one.”
But what Zaid doesn’t know — much like the thousands of other New Yorkers looking to bolster a cause– is that her purchase won’t be supporting the Palestinian people; in fact, it’s just one more catalyst leading to the bereavement of the entire Palestinian textile industry.
In 2000, there were over 120 textile factories producing the keffiyeh in Palestine. But as the scarf grew in popularity in cities like New York, and the demand increased, Chinese factories saw an economic opportunity to compete by offering the scarf for a fraction of the usual costs. Today, as a result, there is only one Palestinian keffiyeh factory left standing.
Chinese manufacturers entered the keffiyeh market in 2001 after a decade of steady rise in the scarf’s predominance. And just year later, the Palestinian-made garment saw its sharpest decline in sales — a downswing that has only deepened in recent years.
“You know, it’s one of the ironies of the way the world works,” said Zachary Lockman, a professor of Middle Eastern studies at New York University.
“You have consumers in New York who want an item that’s Palestinian in origin, and that puts the Palestinian company out of business.”
The sole surviving Palestinian manufacturer is the Herbawi Textile Factory of Hebron, in the heart of the West Bank. While the factory began production in 1961, it wasn’t until 1990 — amidst a fervor of support for the Palestinian people during the first intifada — that it really began to manufacture the keffiyehs in mass quantities.
At that time, all 16 of the factory’s machines were in use, producing about 750 keffiyehs a day, receiving orders not only from neighboring Middle Eastern countries, but also from large Arab diasporas in major U.S. and Canadian cities.
But as the factory began to lose customers to the less costly ‘Made in China’ versions, the Herbawi family began to produce at a slower rate. Today, the factory only maintains two functioning machines that together, make 300 keffiyes a week.
Iman Saca, whose family in Bethlehem owns a Palestinian garment shop called The Palestine Heritage Center, is familiar with the Herbawi factory’s dilemma because her own family’s business is facing a similar struggle.
“Although we do embroidery, and not textiles, we’re also hurting. We are losing a lot of our local artisans because they just can’t compete with these Chinese factories.”
Not wanting to surrender to China’s market domination, the Herbawi factory decided about ten years ago to compete by producing more colorful, fashionable garments.
But this attempt to cater to demand couldn’t resuscitate the company’s fortunes.
Sam Bahour, a Palestinian business consultant living in the West Bank, isn’t surprised to hear that Herbawi is the last factory standing. He has advised many Palestinian companies dealing with the similar downfalls.
“Globalization has negatively affected many sectors, especially in a fragile and yet
developing economy such as ours.”
Bahour says one of the problems is that the Palestinian keffiyeh has no trademark, and it is therefore difficult to safeguard the scarf from copycats.
It is for that reason the Palestine Center’s Saca says New Yorkers, and Americans in general, should be very conscious of who manufactures the Palestinian products they are purchasing.
“People that are wearing the keffiyeh in solidarity with the Palestinian people, or at least as a symbol of anti-colonialism, really should be encouraged to look for a ‘Made in Palestine’ label.”
Last year, a group of Palestinians created “The Last Keffiyeh,” an organization dedicated to salvaging the Herbawi factory and convincing consumers to choose the Palestinian versus Chinese-made keffiyehs.
Through Facebook and other social media platforms, the group has been able to reach out to both Arabs and non-Arabs alike about what they see as a grave issue. And in order to bolster such efforts, they began taking individual orders and distributing the Palestinian-made scarves on behalf of the Herbawi factory.
Siham Nuseibeh, co-creator of the organization, says it’s places like New York — a city suffused in inexpensive Chinese products — where she fears people will put the price ahead of the cause.
“They have to realize, it’s not just a fashion statement or an accessory. It’s something that is intricately linked to a larger deeply-rooted human cause,” she said.
“And if they want to support the cause, they should also think about where their money is going.”
Although there is still a chance for a revival of the Palestinian textile factories, Nuseibeh is beleaguered by the fact that the Herbawi factory stands alone: now, the fate of the entire keffiyeh industry could depend on New York consumers.
Ameera David