From dreadlocks to headdresses, ethnic food to language, no cultural symbol seems immune to being co-opted and commodified. The blurred lines between cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation – the act of taking elements from a culture that is not one's own – have sparked heated debate, with some cultures being more affected than others. This ongoing discussion is especially relevant for the Palestinian keffiyeh, a black and white scarf traditionally made using tatreez embroidery and commonly worn in the Middle East. Its visibility at the Western festival “Coachella” in late April 2023, has suggested major political implications for the object. Its display by cultural outsiders inspires a discussion on whether wearing it as a fashion statement is a respectful act of solidarity or an insensitive appropriation.

The appropriation of the Palestinian keffiyeh threatens Palestinian history by allowing the dominant Western cultures to adopt elements of a marginalized Arab without due respect or acknowledgment. This issue is exacerbated by the media's tendency to criminalize cultural appropriation only when committed by the West, perpetuating a double standard that further marginalizes non-Western cultures.

Originally, the keffiyeh was first used in deserts, shielding wearers from sand and providing insulation from the cold. Over time, it evolved into a tool for anonymity, protecting the identities of protestors. After Palestinian freedom fighter Yasser Arafat adopted it, [the keffiyeh evolved into a symbol of self-determination and pride] (https://handmadepalestine.com/en-ae/blogs/news/history-of-keffiyeh-the-traditional-palestinian-headdress). The keffiyeh has come to represent political resistance, making its commodification – especially in mainstream fashion and music festivals – all the more controversial.

A CNN article titled “Coachella Is Back. But Have Festivals Escaped the Problematic Legacy of 'Boho Chic'?, highlights the history of American festivals and their widespread appropriation of black and indigenous communities, like the Native American headpieces. The keffiyeh’s presence at Coachella follows a similar pattern, with non-Arab attendees wearing it for aesthetic choice rather than acknowledging its original meaning. The article argues that the act of wearing cross-cultural symbols because they are trendy in popular culture rather than for their significance, is inherently disrespectful. When items that symbolize struggles for independence and resistance against human suffering are worn at music festivals, cultural appropriation can justifiably be criticized on moral grounds.

In “Stitched Up: The Anti-Capitalist Book of Fashion”, Tansy E. Hoskins contends that fashion can serve as a tool to sustain resistance, preserve cultural identity in the face of oppression, and inspire change. However, she acknowledges that resistance through cultural attire is often co-opted by capitalist interests. Whether it is the keffiyeh or indigenous war bonnets, the exploitation by the fashion industry dilutes their original significance. Louis Vuitton’s attempt to rebrand the keffiyeh as a luxury accessory sold at 705$, compared to an authentic version costing around 5$, illustrates how capitalism distorts the cultural meaning of such items.

The political implications of the keffiyeh’s appropriation cannot be ignored. While it was not originally intended to be a political symbol, it has come to represent Palestinian liberation and resistance. Cultural items derive power from the ever-evolving meanings ascribed to them. This fluidity makes the keffiyeh particularly vulnerable to the dominant power structures that disadvantage marginalized groups.

Researcher Erich Matthes explains that cultural appropriation reflects deep power imbalances, with dominant cultures — typically Western — enjoying “credibility excess,” while marginalized cultures, such as the Palestinians, suffer from a “credibility deficit.”. These terms refer to how dominant groups assert their narratives over marginalized ones, shaping public perception. Matthes warns that when designers like Louis Vuitton appropriate racial or ethnic styles and market them as their own, they claim ownership over not only the physical design but also its cultural meaning and significance. This appropriation erases the political context of the keffiyeh, marginalizing Palestinian voices.

Cultural appropriation can also be oppressive to individuals’ identities because it reinforces imperialist and orientalist notions that misrepresent cultural groups. It is one way in which the West has historically orientalized Arabs. Before the keffiyeh became a symbol of wealth in mainstream fashion, media portrayals often linked it to extremist ideologies, fueling anti-Arab sentiments and harmful stereotypes. Such misrepresentations allow Western powers to control and rewrite the Arab narratives while stripping the cultural items of their deeper meaning.

Eric Matthes argues that cultural essentialism – viewing cultures as fixed and uniform – is a key aspect of orientalist and imperialist ideologies. Media representation of minority groups as monolithic reinforces exclusion by defining who “belongs” to a culture based on superficial markers. For instance, while the keffiyeh is a well-known Arab symbol, it is not worn universally across the region. Reducing Arab identity to a single item marginalizes those who do not wear it while also diluting its significance. A similar issue arises in Black culture, where the idea of an “authentic” Black identity can be used to police cultural expression.

The media often stigmatizes appropriation as something distasteful only when committed by the dominant West. Arab designer Ali Chaabani, whose work blends Western and Arab cultural motifs, criticizes Western artists who borrow from Arab culture, labeling it as a criminal act of appropriation, but considers his use of graffiti and Western artistic methods as tasteful and permissible because Arabs, as a historically displaced and marginalized group, have the right to appropriate without consequence. This is a broader belief that appropriation is only problematic when done by dominant Western cultures.

A GQ article “Arabs and Black Culture: Appreciation or Appropriation?” points out how Palestinian artists like DAM use rap – a genre rooted in Black culture – as a tool for resistance without being seen as appropriation. Meanwhile, white Western artists are frequently criticized and often canceled by pop culture. The media overlooks power dynamics that exist within non-Western cultures, failing to acknowledge that even among marginalized groups power imbalances, racial hierarchies, and systemic inequalities exist. Writer Alramly states that anti-black sentiments persist in Arab culture, demonstrating that cultural power struggles are not limited to Western and non-Western interactions.

Nevertheless, cultural appropriation poses a much greater threat to minority cultures than to Western identities. Dominant cultures naturally impose their influence on others, making Western appropriation particularly problematic due to its historical ties to colonialism and forced cultural assimilation. Western cultural symbols are often the result of imperialism and globalization, making their adoption by non-Westerners more of a byproduct than an act of theft. However, the Palestinian keffiyeh is a symbol deeply rooted in Arab identity rather than colonial exchange, making it vulnerable to the dangers of appropriation.

For some, cultural appropriation is an inevitable part of cultural exchange, rather than an attack on minority cultures. Philosopher Kwame Appiah suggests that no culture is truly “pure” and that cross-cultural influence has always existed. The various patterns and styles of the keffiyeh across different Arab regions reflect exchange rather than appropriation. Appiah’s concept of being a “citizen of the world” encourages honoring cultural diversity instead of using it to divide people.

Ultimately, cultural appropriation is a complex issue with no simple solutions. The Palestinian keffiyeh, rich in history and symbolism, is just one example of the many objects that are at risk of losing their meaning due to widespread commercialization. Instead of criminalizing cultural appropriation, the focus should be on how to navigate cultural exchanges in a way that respects marginalized communities. Recognizing the fluidity of cultures does not reduce groups of people; it empowers them.

Figure 1: Palestinian Keffiyeh