A keffiyeh. The media focussed on a keffiyeh which had been tucked at the last minute around the manger scene from Bethlehem which was blessed at the Vatican by the Pope on the 7th December 2024.
And the manger and the keffiyeh and the baby were removed following representation from various lobby groups who claimed the presence of the black and white checkered scarf politicised a religious symbol, making something violent out of something peaceful. The baby will return on 25th December, the Vatican Press Office says, but will the keffiyeh?
How to unpack this?
Let’s begin with the facts. The manger scene designed by Bethlehem artists from Dar Al-Kalima University, Faten Nastas Mitwasi and Johny Andonia, and made by Bethlehem crafts people, was a gift to the Pope from the State of Palestine.[1]
‘The scene’s three wooden figures, the baby Jesus flanked by his parents Mary and Joseph, were handmade from a single olive tree by Peter Khano. The practice of olive wood carving is a pillar of the community’s economic and cultural identity dating back to the 4th century.
The Star of Bethlehem that hangs overhead is made of mother of pearl by the Piccirillo Center, using a kind of ornamentation that was brought to Bethlehem by Franciscan monks from Damascus in the 15th century. The star is encircled by an inscription in both Latin and Arab reading: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill to all people.”
Meanwhile, the scene’s sheep were made of hand felted wool by children from Ma’n Lilhayt, a Catholic charity that provides employment opportunities for disabled people.’[2]
Even before the additional of the keffiyeh this was a political statement. The people of Bethlehem have been effectively besieged since October 7th 2023 and the tourism industry, their chief source of income, is catatonic. People are suffering.
In his remarks before the blessing the Pope said, ‘Enough wars, enough violence.’
And from the facts to their significance.
Has the keffiyeh distracted attention from the plight of olive wood workers and craftsmen and the vulnerable and marginal adults who are part of Ma’n Lilhayt? Perhaps. But the reaction to the keffiyeh tells us something about both the invisibility of the Palestinian people and the equation made by some between the Palestinian people and violence. The Keffiyeh does not in itself represent violence. It is a practical garment used traditionally to protect against the searing heat. It was politicised when worn by Yasser Arafat and has been worn since by those who sympathise with the Palestinian cause, most who simply want genocide to stop, justice to be done and people to be free of fear. (Freedom from fear is desperately needed for both Israelis and Palestinians).
The Scottish Laity Network hosted Khawla Badwan and Alison Phipps in a wonderful and powerful Advent reflection entitled ‘Keep Telling of Gaza’. [3]Both Khawla and Alison were wearing keffiyeh. Since October 7th 2023 Alison and then Khawla have been documenting the genocide in Gaza in short poems posted on social media. A collection of their work also called Keep Telling of Gaza has been published by Sidhe Press.[4] It is available as an e-book on their website or you can buy the hard copy through Amazon.
Khawla, a Palestinian refugee who spent fourteen years in Gaza, is a ’scholar of language, education, culture and social justice’. One of her poems in the collection explores the use of symbols like the Keffiyeh, and reclaims the ethics of love.
Ethics of Love
Existing for one another
Against their politics of hate
With the aesthetics of symbols:
A watermelon
A keffiyeh
A poster
A sticker
A kite
A flag
A pin
Building a movement
Of love, solidarity, and collective struggle
With eyes meeting, tearing and comforting
In our thousands, the chant goes
In our millions, the crowd repeats
We are all Palestinians, the spirit echoes
Looking after one another
Holding our otherness and togetherness
Remaking life with ethics of love
The Palestinian flag is banned in the State of Israel, so the watermelon, red, white, black and green, has come to represent it, used on teeshirts and bags and buttons. It is hard to overstate how reviled these simple signs of solidarity are. On a recent return to Israel one of my colleagues was questioned intensely in Ben Gurion Airport about his loyalties and intentions because in a forgotten flap in the rucksack there was a tiny Palestinian flag pin given to him by an acquaintance as he left for the airport. Symbols are potent.
The yellow ribbon demanding release of Israeli hostages is ubiquitous here. When I see it, I mentally add to its significance. I want it to stand for not only freedom for Israeli hostages but also for freedom for Gazans and for Palestinian political prisoners held in Israeli jails, many without charge.
I want the keffiyeh in the manger to stand for all forgotten people, principally the Palestinians, but all marginalized and made invisible around the globe. People for whom the child in the manger was born.
I hope they put the keffiyeh back in the manger. And if they don’t, I will imagine it there.
[2] Felt goods available from Hadeel Fairtrade Palestinian Crafts https://www.hadeel.org/suppliers/maan-lil-hayat/