A Palestinian song of perseverance (verhaal uit 2013)

 

Finding a more or less happy entrepreneur in Palestine these days is not an easy task, especially in Hebron, but it can be achieved. Take Hirbawi Textiles, situated on a slope overlooking the town that used to be an important regional center of trade. The presence of Jewish settlers has mutilated it long since, transforming a major part of the traditional souk into a no-go area for Palestinians - but let's not go into that sad story again, it's been told many times.

Far less known is how the only factory in Palestine that manufactures the kufiyeh - yes, the iconic Palestinian chequered scarf, sported by the likes of Sting and David Beckham in the past decade - has survived. Founded in 1961, the company fell on hard times in the nineties, but almost miraculously managed to stay in business.

On entering the premises, it's hard not to instantly fall in love with the 16 Suzuki looms of the factory. They look ancient, but nonetheless seem in good shape, and they produce an impressive kinetic noise - a Palestinian song of perseverance, one might say.



Hirbawi textiles is a family business, but this gentleman is Abid Keraki, a life long friend and the man who is in charge of the day-to-day operation of the looms.



Here's the story in a nutshell. Once, Hirbawi Textiles was a thriving company. But then, in 1993, came the Oslo accords, and the 'peace process' kicked in. Palestinian markets were opened up to global competition and Chinese producers arrived on the scene. Their kufiyehs were purportedly of inferior quality, made almost entirely of polyester instead of cotton. But they were also a lot cheaper. Juda Hirbawi, who inherited the business from his father Yasser, tried to compete, but failed.

His company was hardly the only one struggling: the modest but lively Palestinian manufacturing industry that existed prior to 'Oslo', has been virtually wiped out since.



Between 2004 and 2010 the company was practically defunct, producing negligible quantities. But then the kufiyeh became fashionable, the Anglo-Saxon press discovered the little factory, wrote some touching stories about it and made Juda Hirbawi and his partners aware of the fact that they possessed a unique product.

,,We were compromising on quality to keep prices down, but that tactic was always going to fail,'' Juda says. ,,We realised we would never beat the Chinese at their own game and decided instead to make quality our trademark. We're more expensive than the Chinese now, but our product is superior since it's almost wholly made of cotton. We've got clients who know this, appreciate it and are willing to pay for it - especially in France and the United States."

   

So all's well that ends well? Not exactly. Production figures pale compared to those achieved during the company's heyday. ,,We're okay now, but we're certainly not making a lot of money,'' Hirbawi says. ,,That applies to most Palestinian entrepreneurs and workers alike. Revenues and wages are shockingly low, everyone who has the opportunity and no fundamental objections will go and work for the Israelis. According to what I've read, a lot of money has been pumped into the Palestinian economy. So where's that money now?"

©Carl Stellweg