Fashion has long been a canvas for political expression. From anti-war movements in the 1960s to today’s global struggles for justice, clothing has carried messages of defiance, solidarity, and resistance. Few embody this power of fashion more than Aziz Bekkaoui, a Moroccan-born Dutch designer whose work champions Palestinian identity in the face of cultural erasure.

Bekkaoui was among the first major designers to use the catwalk as a platform for Palestinian solidarity. For him, fashion has always been more than aesthetics—it is a language, a form of protest, and a tool to amplify voices often silenced. His pivotal 2014 World Keffiyeh Day collection was a turning point, demonstrating how style can be a vessel for cultural resistance.

Bekkaoui transforms the keffiyeh and the Palestinian flag from symbols of heritage into functional, high-fashion statements. His collection features pieces like the Keffiyeh Helmet, Palestine Blanket, and Keffiyeh Backpack—each a tangible expression of identity and resilience.

“By incorporating the keffiyeh pattern and Palestinian flag into meticulously crafted, timeless pieces, the collection aims to honour Palestinian heritage while giving it an enduring, modern resonance,” he told TRT World.

A portion of the profits from his designs goes towards supporting Palestine through the foundation Maison Palestine, funding independent journalists, activists, artists, and opinion leaders dedicated to raising awareness about the Palestinian struggle. 

A lifelong Palestine connection

Born in Berkane, Morocco, Bekkaoui immigrated to the Netherlands at six-years-old. Thanks to his parents, he grew up with a deep awareness of the Palestinian cause.

His bond with Palestine, he explained, "has always been present." It stems not just from witnessing the ongoing genocide but from the 77 years of occupation that continue to shape Palestinian lives.

Initially drawn to architecture and visual arts, Bekkaoui’s creative journey led him to fashion design at ArtEZ University of the Arts, where he explored multiple creative disciplines. Today, as one of the Netherlands' most celebrated designers, he sees fashion as a medium of expression that can move people to think – and act.

“Let’s be honest—fashion doesn’t save lives. But it can raise awareness, touch people, make them think, and even move them to action,” he said.

Fashion has long been interwoven with political movements. In the 1960s, peace symbols on T-shirts and ‘Jesus’ sandals, became staples in the wardrobes of the  peace movement, those who protested against the Vietnam War. Today, with Israel’s relentless bombardment of Gaza, Palestinian motifs—from olive trees to watermelons—have emerged as emblems of solidarity, worn everywhere from university campuses to parliament halls and red-carpet events. 

Yet, while grassroots fashion embraces the Palestinian cause, the industry itself largely remains silent.

Soulless’ Keffiyeh: The problem of cultural appropriation

For Bekkaoui, honouring tradition means understanding its roots.

“Where does something come from? From what context? Why did it come into being? What was the need for something to come into being? How was it made? What materials and techniques were used?” he said, explaining how these questions shaped his World Keffiyeh Collection, developed in collaboration with the Textile Museum in Tilburg.

Each piece was woven from cashmere and wool, crafted as "an ode to the Keffiyeh." Stripped of its context, he explained, the keffiyeh becomes a “collection of threads, without soul, without substance”.

Yet while Bekkaoui's work pays homage to the keffiyeh’s cultural significance, others have turned it into a commercialised trend. The fashion industry's appropriation spans from fast fashion to luxury houses. TopShop, a clothes retailer, turned the Palestinian scarf into a "scarf playsuit" in 2017, while Urban Outfitters marketed multi-coloured versions, in 2007, before withdrawing them “due to the sensitive nature of this item”.

Luxury brands have also exploited the keffiyeh for profit.  Balenciaga included it in their 2007 “Traveller” collection, while Louis Vuitton sold monogrammed versions for hundreds of dollars in 2021. Meanwhile, Palestine's last keffiyeh manufacturer, the Hirbawi factory in Hebron, struggles to survive against mass-produced imitations and economic strangulation under Israeli occupation. 

Some Israeli designers, including Dorit Baror and Yaron Minkowski, have controversially laid claim to the traditional scarf as their own.

For Bekkaoui, the keffiyeh is more than just a garment–it is a centuries-old medium of cultural communication that he considers "stronger than a flag."

"Textile without context is just a soulless piece of cloth," he said. "I believe it's important to know and tell those stories, whether you're using the pattern of the keffiyeh or, for example, the pied-de-poule, which is also thousands of years old."

Criminalising the keffiyeh

Since October 7, the keffiyeh has increasingly been framed as a symbol of extremism in Western countries. Last year, Anti-Defamation League CEO Jonathan Greenblatt compared  the Palestinian scarf to the Nazi swastika.

In Germany's capital Berlin, despite being home to Europe's largest Palestinian diaspora of 300,000, schools have banned the keffiyeh as a "threat to school peace." 

While France has implemented similar restrictions, with individuals facing detentions, fines, or being forced to remove the garment.

The crackdown extends beyond Europe. Ontario's legislature has banned keffiyehs from its chambers, while in the US, wearers have faced violent attacks—including the shooting of three college students, one of whom was left paralysed. 

For Bekkaoui, the backlash to his collection led to professional isolation. "Colleagues and friends distanced themselves, some even boycotted my work and attempted to cancel me. It was a challenging period, but it also strengthened my commitment to staying true to my values, even in the face of adversity," he said. 

Despite this industry’s pushback and the keffiyeh's growing demonisation, he remains resolute. "Through fashion, I want to denounce the injustice faced by Palestinians in our so-called civilised world," he said. While some of his professional circles recoiled, his audience responded with overwhelming support.

The industry’s hypocrisy

While fashion industry have eagerly aligned themselves with various social causes, they have largely remained silent on Israel’s genocide in Gaza.

When Russia invaded Ukraine, luxury brands such as Balenciaga and its parent company Kering were quick to release statements and donate to the UNHCR. The French multinational holding company Moet Hennessy Louis Vuitton (LVMH) followed with a €5 million donation to the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC). High-end fashion houses–including Dior, Hermès, and Gucci–closed Russian stores and joined international sanctions. 

Yet, when it comes to Palestine, the industry only offered indifference, Bekkaoui lamented.

The fashion world is “undeniably filled with double standards”, he said. “The Keffiyeh Collection was sparked with backlash and controversy, with critics arguing that politics and fashion shouldn’t mix. Fast forward to 2022, and major fashion houses and magazines openly supported Ukraine.”

Despite the industry’s silence, Bekkaoui remains steadfast in his mission. “I will continue to incorporate themes of resistance and justice, using fashion as a powerful medium to raise awareness and amplify their voices–until Palestine is free.”