How Palestinian Women Are Keeping Tatreez Embroidery Alive

Palestinian Designer Transforms Tatreez into a Symbol of Resistance

Ayham Hassan, a designer born in Ramallah in the late 1990s, has intricately woven political significance into his craft. "I became aware early on that Palestinian textiles are not just objects," said Hassan, who splits his time between London and the occupied West Bank. "They are evidence carrying geography, lineage, and memory."

Last June, Hassan graduated from Central Saint Martins in London, unveiling his final collection titled “IM-Mortal Magenta: The Color That Doesn’t Exist.” This collection drew upon his understanding of the relationship between art and politics, notably reflecting visual elements inspired by Gaza. He explained, “The color magenta became a conceptual anchor, used to speak about erasure and survival,” noting that traditional Palestinian embroidery, or tatreez, informed both the visual language and design of his work.

Tatreez, a centuries-old craft, is perceived as a powerful visual language that establishes a connection between its makers—usually women from rural communities—and their land. The embroidery’s colors, techniques, and representations of specific flowers reflect regional identities, marking social statuses and personal milestones, such as marriage or widowhood.

Following the 1948 Arab-Israeli war, which led to the displacement of around 700,000 Palestinians—an event known as the Nakba—tatreez evolved into a vehicle for political expression. As earlier intifadas unfolded, this traditional craft became synonymous with resistance.

Rachel Dedman, a curator of Middle Eastern art at the Victoria & Albert Museum, emphasized this shift: “Today it’s become part of an understanding of Palestinian steadfastness, or ‘sumud’—of resistance more broadly.” She noted that the craft is now celebrated in contemporary forums, including social media, where communities gather for tatreez workshops.

“The purpose of tatreez was a celebration of culture, land, and identity. It was never meant to be political,” remarked Samar Abdrabbou, a program manager for a humanitarian non-profit organization. Abdrabbou explained that many women initially engaged with tatreez to express their beauty and femininity, steering clear of political undertones. However, the devastation of the Nakba left many women clutching their embroidered thobes as they fled, leading to an evolution in the craft’s symbolism.

In the wake of 1948, tatreez became a critical marker of Palestinian presence, with women embedding politically charged motifs and appropriating colors, notably the watermelon, to symbolize solidarity. Dedman noted, “Those objects are fascinating because they render women’s bodies sites of active political power, engaging in this explicitly political moment.”

UNESCO recognized the global significance of tatreez in 2021 by adding it to the Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity, a step aimed at safeguarding the art form. Hassan observed that the interpretation of tatreez varies significantly depending on the viewer’s perspective: “Carrying embroidery between London and Palestine has never felt neutral to me.”

Hassan’s participation in exhibitions at major European fashion museums, including MoMu in Antwerp, underscores the importance of visibility for Palestinian narratives. “Tatreez is not simply ornamentation; it is a living language, a form of resistance, and an intergenerational archive,” he stated.

Dedman remarked on the necessity of showcasing joy and creativity amid the backdrop of conflict. “We’re celebrating Palestinian joy, creativity and brilliance,” she said.

For Abdrabbou, who founded SAMARKAND to preserve and teach tatreez, the craft represents a tribute to her heritage. She highlighted the increasing knowledge gap about the art among younger Palestinians and expressed her commitment to reviving this tradition. "I remember seeing a photo of a tatreez piece under the rubble, the first thing I thought about was the time and effort that the woman who made this piece put in it," she reflected.

Engaging in tatreez circles fosters a powerful sense of community among participants. Abdrabbou emphasized, “Women feel comfortable and supported, everyone shares personal stories,” and noted that her gatherings in Bethlehem welcome both Palestinians and international attendees. “It’s important for everyone living in Palestine to learn about the traditions and culture of the country.”

Through the lens of art and resilience, the story of tatreez continues to evolve, revealing layers of meaning deeply intertwined with Palestinian identity.