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Im-Mortal Magenta
The Colour that Doesn’t Exist

My name is Ayham Hassan. I’m a Palestinian fashion design student based in London and Ramallah. My work is deeply rooted in my personal experiences growing up in the West Bank and is approached through a critical and analytical lens. I am dedicated to challenging and reshaping my reality through the expressive medium of fashion, drawing inspiration from the social customs and evolving culture in my city. Focusing on exploring the rich craftsmanship in Palestine, with a particular emphasis on tailoring, textiles, and draping. I actively collaborate with local artisans to incorporate their traditional techniques and expertise into my design and production process. By doing so, I aim to contribute to the preservation of Palestinian crafts and enhance the overall production cycle in my country, ensuring that these invaluable skills and traditions do not disappear, especially in the fast- evolving world we live in.
The unique aesthetic of my work is deeply influenced by the environment in which I was raised, characterized by a raw, primal, visceral, and earthy quality. This aesthetic is a reflection of the challenges I faced growing up under Israeli military occupation. To me, fashion is not simply a form of self-expression; it is a means of protection, at times from societal pressures, and always from the harsh realities of military occupation.
I firmly believe in the transformative power of design as a force for positive change and progress. Through my work, I seek to disrupt the fabric of constructed life in my community, prompting individuals to confront the pressing issues within Arab and Palestinian societies. By building upon traditional techniques and infusing them with innovative and sustainable production methods, I am committed to elevating design and industrial independence in Palestine and the Levant area. Additionally, I aspire to integrate the often-overlooked Palestinian identity into the global fashion industry.
إنهاليستثوبًاأخلعهاليوم،بلجلًداأمزقهبيد ّي.ولاهي فكرة أتركها ورائي، بل قلبًا حلو بالجوع والعطش
“It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands. Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and thirst.”
— Khalil Gibran, The Prophet (1923).
I have developed a collection that powerfully showcases my conceptual process for each look, utilizing primarily deadstock materials and end-of-stock leather skins. My selection includes an array of soft silk chiffon, woven silks, and vibrant shades of magenta. I have incorporated silk organza, rubber bands, faux leather cords, and knitted wool from Palestine. Additionally, my materials feature tulles, paper silks, metal embellishments, pleated paper, and hand-stitched woven cotton from Palestine, all contributing to a distinctive and impactful aesthetic.

Firstly, I confront the issue of cultural sustainability against the backdrop of the horrific genocide occurring in Gaza and the West Bank. My work is deeply inspired by the Magenta weaving technique and cross-stitch embroidery, which have cultural roots in the city of Majdal in Gaza. Regrettably, the last family practicing these traditional crafts faces severe intimidation from Israeli forces, with some members displaced to Egypt. Through the use of symbolic color and powerful motifs, I assertively document and celebrate the uniqueness of this heritage in every look of my graduate collection.
Secondly, I take a firm stance on environmental sustainability in the construction of my pieces. I have developed innovative zero-waste cutting techniques for each look, focusing intently on utilizing deadstock materials and leftover leather skins. My project has garnered sponsorship from Last Yarn Fabrics and support during my placement at Maison Givenchy. Together with my mother, I have crafted a wool knit scarf using wool sourced from local Palestinian shops, all while operating within a reparative production cycle. Furthermore, I proudly collaborated with eight exceptionally skilled female artisans specializing in cross-stitch embroidery; for them, this craft is a vital source of income for their households. In essence, my graduate collection is a powerful celebration of creativity and craft preservation from my hometown. It unapologetically addresses the devastating effects of genocide and war on the survival of a vibrant culture.
Incorporating my identity into my work is not just important; it is essential. I am committed to confronting socio-political issues within the fashion landscape and raising critical awareness of the industry’s environmental impacts. Through my designs, I will deliver bold statements that inspire change, foster meaningful dialogue, and promote a more thoughtful and responsible approach to fashion. My aim is to craft pieces that not only enhance personal expression but also challenge the status quo and elevate our collective voice.

CÉLINE: You moved to London four years ago to follow your dream. What was your dream?
AYHAM: My dream was always fashion. I’m fascinated by the incredible designers in London, like McQueen and Galliano. In Ramallah, there was not much of a scene. I started studying design at Birzeit University in Ramallah, and met the most incredible artists, like Amer Shomali and Omar Joseph Nasser Khoury (?). I was so privileged and honored to be taught by them. I ultimately realized that I wanted to have a career in fashion, and the goal became CSM (Central Saint Martins in London).
CÉLINE: How was the process to apply?
AYHAM: It was insane. It was literally like doing the impossible. But I applied, and got in. Then I had to face the complications of going and getting funded. At that time, I had incredible mentorship from Nol Collective (an intersectional feminist & political fashion collective out of Palestine) who were incredibly supportive. However, unfortunately, the government in Palestine does not acknowledge fashion as a serious topic, like art… There is an amazing art scene in Palestine. Just not much fashion. So, I started doing crowdfunding. The crowdfunding got picked up by people at Dazed (digital magazine - dazeddigital.com), Bella Hadid, and a lot of people in the industry, who shared it on Instagram. It was so humbling… The al-Quds al-taw’am (?) made Palestine kind of mainstream on Instagram. There is an interesting evolution in terms of what resistance is and how to communicate what we are fighting for and how to communicate our ideas on social media. Emma Davidson (Fashion Features Director at Dazed Media) wrote an article in Dazed that literally changed my life in one night. I got all my funding sorted out, and I got my sponsorship. Emma called me and said, “Prepare yourself… make sure you have an umbrella. London is rainy.”

CÉLINE: Your recent collection went viral, and it was in every single news outlet. I was so proud to see it… from GQ to Vogue to literally, everywhere. How was it for you to put out a collection? It’s so personal. Tell us a little bit about the process behind it, and the work in Palestine, the embroidery, the work with the oversized fabrics. Tell me about how you built this collection, and what it means to you.
AYHAM: At that time, with the genocide in Gaza and the effect of that in the West Bank and in the occupied Palestinian territories in the north, it was so insanely tough and difficult… We grew up with our families, our grandparents telling us horrific stories. And there’s so little documentation of what happened during the Nakba, and the Naksa, the Intifadas, and everything connected to Palestinian resistance. The late Ottoman Empire also fucked up the situation and made it possible for Israel to come about. I was studying and watching documentaries, listening to stories. What happened in Gaza happened before, and it’s happening again. And even worse. I was in shock. I was in mourning, and huge suffering, and I didn’t understand how to actually support the resistance other than posting and sharing and going to protests with my friends…
I’m in fashion, I’m a creator. I have a vision, and I have an identity that I want to share with the world. And I was aware that I needed to do something. I needed to reflect on my emotions and process everything. It was so tough to do this at UAL (University of the Arts London). Unfortunately, the show was sponsored by L’Oreal, which is complicit in the genocide. UAL is sponsored by a lot of companies that are complicit. It was really tough. But thank God the staff members and my tutors, all of them, reached out and reminded me that I was entitled to speak out. This collection, I’m not going to lie, was created in the context of being at CSM in London, but it was unapologetically about Palestine.
I’m afraid for my family, my friends, my loved ones, in Lebanon, Syria, and Palestine. It was a terrifying time, and it still is a terrifying time. It’s insane. I needed to address this reality. I could not just look through the archives of incredible designers from the ‘50s and ‘60s. I had to address what was (and is) happening to my country. I did months of research in Palestine. I was able to go to Palestine in the summer before I started my collection. I spent months looking at archives, at imagery. I learned how people were forced to leave their countries and sent to refugee camps in Jordan and Lebanon. I was looking at all of this, and I was really overwhelmed. I thought, how am I going to approach this? It was the quest for liberation and the reality of genocide. I wanted to look at the history of Gaza. I wanted to understand the power and resilience behind it. And it clicked for me, the magenta color. It looked like a symbol of resilience, a symbol of joy in the face of suffering and the horrific things that people were going through. It’s a color of beauty, it’s a color that demands, “Look at me. I’m here!” This is what Gaza is for me, and this is how I experienced it from the West Bank.

CÉLINE: Where did you start? Was the tatreez (Arabic word for Palestinian embroidery) on your work done in Palestine?
AYHAM: Yes. Because I grew up in Ramallah, I was able to connect with a network of embroiderers who are in the villages near Ramallah and Jerusalem. I’d worked with them before on one of my samples. And I was like, let me go back to that. It was a very complicated technique to develop in a short period of time. I used the embroidery, but I applied it maximally. I changed the sizing, the scale, the colors, and the placement of it. The embroidery was done by hand by eight women who, incredibly, used images I sent them to work from. They picked up my changes immediately. And of course, my mom and my aunties, my friends, and my neighbors were also checking with them and working with them. So that was beautiful, and it was really important for me, because I wanted my textiles to come from Palestine, I wanted them to have the feel of Palestinian hands. Their resilience. This is how we fight back.
The day of the show was so special. I had Sharon Rose, an incredible friend of mine, who came from Haifa to be part of it. My first model was Palestinian as well, from Ramallah. Sadly, my family could not come, but it was really interesting to meet the people who were able to be there. However, unfortunately, the school invited a designer who had served in the Israeli military to judge… And, we didn’t (and don’t) even know whether there will be a Palestine in two years, and that’s scary. That is very scary. This collection came from my reflection on that situation. Every look in the collection was specifically referenced with keywords. It told a very strong story, and the magenta was really striking. One of the pieces was a net that my mom knitted and embroidered by hand. I wanted her to be a part of it, and I wanted her to see it… we are in 2025, it’s not that complicated to travel from continent to continent, but this is how difficult it is in Palestine. You cannot actually travel easily. You have to go to Jordan. You have to cross all these checkpoints.
The Ottoman Empire made sure to kill the industries and starve the people who worked with silk in Lebanon. There’s a huge story about mulberry trees, silk, and the famine that the Ottoman Empire caused, which severely impacted the Lebanese people. And similarly, in Syria… so, we became the ones to provide the silks. There is a connection through the fabrics and the colors and the threads between our countries and our nations… People say I’m Palestinian, but I’m probably more Lebanese, more Syrian. We are all of the same ethnic makeup. When we look at the collection, we see this cry, this loud scream, this creative explosion of, look at me, look at me, I’m here… and it’s extremely moving. I think that’s why it’s touching a lot of people, and it’s going viral, because people need to see this in a way that is creative. It’s a counterbalance in such a powerful way to all the horror we are seeing.
Fashion is art to me. This virality has shown me that my work resonates on so many levels. It’s fashion, it’s design, it’s an explosion of creativity, and passion, and gender and sexuality expression. My collection is addressing the reality of genocide, the quest for liberation, and the inevitability of liberation. This is a collective liberation movement. It’s our right to scream and say, this is not okay! It is a genocide. It’s ethnic cleansing. During the show, they closed every door, they locked everything, they had police officers. My models were like, we have to do something. We have to carry signs. We have to show that this is not okay. My models, all of them, carried signs that said, “Boycott L’Oreal,” and “Free Palestine.” It was not even my suggestion. It was the models who decided to do this.

CÉLINE: Do you think your brand is punk? Do you fall in the punk lineage?
AYHAM: Maybe in the spirit of punk… it’s rebellious. We are living in very uncertain times in all industries. It’s very scary. I said everything I wanted. But unfortunately, they always tone it down. Change it a little bit. Of course, the staff are incredible and very pro-Palestinian, all of them, the tutors, students, everyone is… but the whole UAL multinational company… you just realize you don’t matter to anyone. They had a course fees reduction for Ukrainian students because they are going through the war, and I, as a Palestinian, didn’t receive any reduction. That was a huge what’s the deal? And why the hell do we have to have funding from L’Oreal to do a show to exhibit the most incredibly talented students, but we are living in a time if you’re not in that show, you’re not going to be shared. If you’re not posted, you’re not going to get a job. If you’re not shared, people are not seeing your work, and we deserve to show our work. You know, we worked super hard on it…
CÉLINE: What’s next for you? Where are you headed?
AYHAM: The ultimate goal is to open my own collective and work with students, work with designers and freelancers and artists in Palestine, in Lebanon and Syria, and Jordan, and hopefully make my statement in the industry. I have so much to say. I’m experiencing a genocide. My family is in Palestine. I am from Ramallah. I’m seeing all these stories, and at the same time, I have to be inspired. I have to be creative. I have to be on my best behavior, to be every day doing my best work. And I have to use different words to speak to people, and I have to approach it differently and humbly tone down. So which one? If it’s about being Palestinian, yes, it is about being Palestinian, about having to discuss really harsh topics in a fashion context. And this is what I’m providing to the industry. This is what I’m going to do every single season, every single year. This is what I’m going to speak about. This is what I’m going to approach.
CÉLINE: If you were to work at a big house, at a traditional fashion house, is there one you would want to be a part of?
AYHAM: Unfortunately, everything is complicit with everything horrible that I don’t stand for. And that’s why I have to do my own thing. Of course, I would love to work with Givenchy and Dior… You’re talking about years and years and years of craft, beautiful work, talented people, and the money to do the absolute best work. Unfortunately, I realized that I don’t have a space in that place because they are complicit. That’s why it is really important for me to do my own thing. I have so much to say on every topic, not just Palestine.

{
"article":
{
"title" : "Im-Mortal Magenta: The Colour that Doesn’t Exist",
"author" : "Ayham Hassan",
"category" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/ayham-hassan",
"date" : "2025-09-08 10:05:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/AYHAM-HASSAN-LOOK8.jpg",
"excerpt" : "",
"content" : "My name is Ayham Hassan. I’m a Palestinian fashion design student based in London and Ramallah. My work is deeply rooted in my personal experiences growing up in the West Bank and is approached through a critical and analytical lens. I am dedicated to challenging and reshaping my reality through the expressive medium of fashion, drawing inspiration from the social customs and evolving culture in my city. Focusing on exploring the rich craftsmanship in Palestine, with a particular emphasis on tailoring, textiles, and draping. I actively collaborate with local artisans to incorporate their traditional techniques and expertise into my design and production process. By doing so, I aim to contribute to the preservation of Palestinian crafts and enhance the overall production cycle in my country, ensuring that these invaluable skills and traditions do not disappear, especially in the fast- evolving world we live in.The unique aesthetic of my work is deeply influenced by the environment in which I was raised, characterized by a raw, primal, visceral, and earthy quality. This aesthetic is a reflection of the challenges I faced growing up under Israeli military occupation. To me, fashion is not simply a form of self-expression; it is a means of protection, at times from societal pressures, and always from the harsh realities of military occupation.I firmly believe in the transformative power of design as a force for positive change and progress. Through my work, I seek to disrupt the fabric of constructed life in my community, prompting individuals to confront the pressing issues within Arab and Palestinian societies. By building upon traditional techniques and infusing them with innovative and sustainable production methods, I am committed to elevating design and industrial independence in Palestine and the Levant area. Additionally, I aspire to integrate the often-overlooked Palestinian identity into the global fashion industry. إنهاليستثوبًاأخلعهاليوم،بلجلًداأمزقهبيد ّي.ولاهي فكرة أتركها ورائي، بل قلبًا حلو بالجوع والعطش “It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I tear with my own hands. Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but a heart made sweet with hunger and thirst.”— Khalil Gibran, The Prophet (1923).I have developed a collection that powerfully showcases my conceptual process for each look, utilizing primarily deadstock materials and end-of-stock leather skins. My selection includes an array of soft silk chiffon, woven silks, and vibrant shades of magenta. I have incorporated silk organza, rubber bands, faux leather cords, and knitted wool from Palestine. Additionally, my materials feature tulles, paper silks, metal embellishments, pleated paper, and hand-stitched woven cotton from Palestine, all contributing to a distinctive and impactful aesthetic.Firstly, I confront the issue of cultural sustainability against the backdrop of the horrific genocide occurring in Gaza and the West Bank. My work is deeply inspired by the Magenta weaving technique and cross-stitch embroidery, which have cultural roots in the city of Majdal in Gaza. Regrettably, the last family practicing these traditional crafts faces severe intimidation from Israeli forces, with some members displaced to Egypt. Through the use of symbolic color and powerful motifs, I assertively document and celebrate the uniqueness of this heritage in every look of my graduate collection.Secondly, I take a firm stance on environmental sustainability in the construction of my pieces. I have developed innovative zero-waste cutting techniques for each look, focusing intently on utilizing deadstock materials and leftover leather skins. My project has garnered sponsorship from Last Yarn Fabrics and support during my placement at Maison Givenchy. Together with my mother, I have crafted a wool knit scarf using wool sourced from local Palestinian shops, all while operating within a reparative production cycle. Furthermore, I proudly collaborated with eight exceptionally skilled female artisans specializing in cross-stitch embroidery; for them, this craft is a vital source of income for their households. In essence, my graduate collection is a powerful celebration of creativity and craft preservation from my hometown. It unapologetically addresses the devastating effects of genocide and war on the survival of a vibrant culture.Incorporating my identity into my work is not just important; it is essential. I am committed to confronting socio-political issues within the fashion landscape and raising critical awareness of the industry’s environmental impacts. Through my designs, I will deliver bold statements that inspire change, foster meaningful dialogue, and promote a more thoughtful and responsible approach to fashion. My aim is to craft pieces that not only enhance personal expression but also challenge the status quo and elevate our collective voice.CÉLINE: You moved to London four years ago to follow your dream. What was your dream?AYHAM: My dream was always fashion. I’m fascinated by the incredible designers in London, like McQueen and Galliano. In Ramallah, there was not much of a scene. I started studying design at Birzeit University in Ramallah, and met the most incredible artists, like Amer Shomali and Omar Joseph Nasser Khoury (?). I was so privileged and honored to be taught by them. I ultimately realized that I wanted to have a career in fashion, and the goal became CSM (Central Saint Martins in London).CÉLINE: How was the process to apply?AYHAM: It was insane. It was literally like doing the impossible. But I applied, and got in. Then I had to face the complications of going and getting funded. At that time, I had incredible mentorship from Nol Collective (an intersectional feminist & political fashion collective out of Palestine) who were incredibly supportive. However, unfortunately, the government in Palestine does not acknowledge fashion as a serious topic, like art… There is an amazing art scene in Palestine. Just not much fashion. So, I started doing crowdfunding. The crowdfunding got picked up by people at Dazed (digital magazine - dazeddigital.com), Bella Hadid, and a lot of people in the industry, who shared it on Instagram. It was so humbling… The al-Quds al-taw’am (?) made Palestine kind of mainstream on Instagram. There is an interesting evolution in terms of what resistance is and how to communicate what we are fighting for and how to communicate our ideas on social media. Emma Davidson (Fashion Features Director at Dazed Media) wrote an article in Dazed that literally changed my life in one night. I got all my funding sorted out, and I got my sponsorship. Emma called me and said, “Prepare yourself… make sure you have an umbrella. London is rainy.”CÉLINE: Your recent collection went viral, and it was in every single news outlet. I was so proud to see it… from GQ to Vogue to literally, everywhere. How was it for you to put out a collection? It’s so personal. Tell us a little bit about the process behind it, and the work in Palestine, the embroidery, the work with the oversized fabrics. Tell me about how you built this collection, and what it means to you.AYHAM: At that time, with the genocide in Gaza and the effect of that in the West Bank and in the occupied Palestinian territories in the north, it was so insanely tough and difficult… We grew up with our families, our grandparents telling us horrific stories. And there’s so little documentation of what happened during the Nakba, and the Naksa, the Intifadas, and everything connected to Palestinian resistance. The late Ottoman Empire also fucked up the situation and made it possible for Israel to come about. I was studying and watching documentaries, listening to stories. What happened in Gaza happened before, and it’s happening again. And even worse. I was in shock. I was in mourning, and huge suffering, and I didn’t understand how to actually support the resistance other than posting and sharing and going to protests with my friends…I’m in fashion, I’m a creator. I have a vision, and I have an identity that I want to share with the world. And I was aware that I needed to do something. I needed to reflect on my emotions and process everything. It was so tough to do this at UAL (University of the Arts London). Unfortunately, the show was sponsored by L’Oreal, which is complicit in the genocide. UAL is sponsored by a lot of companies that are complicit. It was really tough. But thank God the staff members and my tutors, all of them, reached out and reminded me that I was entitled to speak out. This collection, I’m not going to lie, was created in the context of being at CSM in London, but it was unapologetically about Palestine.I’m afraid for my family, my friends, my loved ones, in Lebanon, Syria, and Palestine. It was a terrifying time, and it still is a terrifying time. It’s insane. I needed to address this reality. I could not just look through the archives of incredible designers from the ‘50s and ‘60s. I had to address what was (and is) happening to my country. I did months of research in Palestine. I was able to go to Palestine in the summer before I started my collection. I spent months looking at archives, at imagery. I learned how people were forced to leave their countries and sent to refugee camps in Jordan and Lebanon. I was looking at all of this, and I was really overwhelmed. I thought, how am I going to approach this? It was the quest for liberation and the reality of genocide. I wanted to look at the history of Gaza. I wanted to understand the power and resilience behind it. And it clicked for me, the magenta color. It looked like a symbol of resilience, a symbol of joy in the face of suffering and the horrific things that people were going through. It’s a color of beauty, it’s a color that demands, “Look at me. I’m here!” This is what Gaza is for me, and this is how I experienced it from the West Bank.CÉLINE: Where did you start? Was the tatreez (Arabic word for Palestinian embroidery) on your work done in Palestine?AYHAM: Yes. Because I grew up in Ramallah, I was able to connect with a network of embroiderers who are in the villages near Ramallah and Jerusalem. I’d worked with them before on one of my samples. And I was like, let me go back to that. It was a very complicated technique to develop in a short period of time. I used the embroidery, but I applied it maximally. I changed the sizing, the scale, the colors, and the placement of it. The embroidery was done by hand by eight women who, incredibly, used images I sent them to work from. They picked up my changes immediately. And of course, my mom and my aunties, my friends, and my neighbors were also checking with them and working with them. So that was beautiful, and it was really important for me, because I wanted my textiles to come from Palestine, I wanted them to have the feel of Palestinian hands. Their resilience. This is how we fight back.The day of the show was so special. I had Sharon Rose, an incredible friend of mine, who came from Haifa to be part of it. My first model was Palestinian as well, from Ramallah. Sadly, my family could not come, but it was really interesting to meet the people who were able to be there. However, unfortunately, the school invited a designer who had served in the Israeli military to judge… And, we didn’t (and don’t) even know whether there will be a Palestine in two years, and that’s scary. That is very scary. This collection came from my reflection on that situation. Every look in the collection was specifically referenced with keywords. It told a very strong story, and the magenta was really striking. One of the pieces was a net that my mom knitted and embroidered by hand. I wanted her to be a part of it, and I wanted her to see it… we are in 2025, it’s not that complicated to travel from continent to continent, but this is how difficult it is in Palestine. You cannot actually travel easily. You have to go to Jordan. You have to cross all these checkpoints.The Ottoman Empire made sure to kill the industries and starve the people who worked with silk in Lebanon. There’s a huge story about mulberry trees, silk, and the famine that the Ottoman Empire caused, which severely impacted the Lebanese people. And similarly, in Syria… so, we became the ones to provide the silks. There is a connection through the fabrics and the colors and the threads between our countries and our nations… People say I’m Palestinian, but I’m probably more Lebanese, more Syrian. We are all of the same ethnic makeup. When we look at the collection, we see this cry, this loud scream, this creative explosion of, look at me, look at me, I’m here… and it’s extremely moving. I think that’s why it’s touching a lot of people, and it’s going viral, because people need to see this in a way that is creative. It’s a counterbalance in such a powerful way to all the horror we are seeing.Fashion is art to me. This virality has shown me that my work resonates on so many levels. It’s fashion, it’s design, it’s an explosion of creativity, and passion, and gender and sexuality expression. My collection is addressing the reality of genocide, the quest for liberation, and the inevitability of liberation. This is a collective liberation movement. It’s our right to scream and say, this is not okay! It is a genocide. It’s ethnic cleansing. During the show, they closed every door, they locked everything, they had police officers. My models were like, we have to do something. We have to carry signs. We have to show that this is not okay. My models, all of them, carried signs that said, “Boycott L’Oreal,” and “Free Palestine.” It was not even my suggestion. It was the models who decided to do this.CÉLINE: Do you think your brand is punk? Do you fall in the punk lineage?AYHAM: Maybe in the spirit of punk… it’s rebellious. We are living in very uncertain times in all industries. It’s very scary. I said everything I wanted. But unfortunately, they always tone it down. Change it a little bit. Of course, the staff are incredible and very pro-Palestinian, all of them, the tutors, students, everyone is… but the whole UAL multinational company… you just realize you don’t matter to anyone. They had a course fees reduction for Ukrainian students because they are going through the war, and I, as a Palestinian, didn’t receive any reduction. That was a huge what’s the deal? And why the hell do we have to have funding from L’Oreal to do a show to exhibit the most incredibly talented students, but we are living in a time if you’re not in that show, you’re not going to be shared. If you’re not posted, you’re not going to get a job. If you’re not shared, people are not seeing your work, and we deserve to show our work. You know, we worked super hard on it…CÉLINE: What’s next for you? Where are you headed?AYHAM: The ultimate goal is to open my own collective and work with students, work with designers and freelancers and artists in Palestine, in Lebanon and Syria, and Jordan, and hopefully make my statement in the industry. I have so much to say. I’m experiencing a genocide. My family is in Palestine. I am from Ramallah. I’m seeing all these stories, and at the same time, I have to be inspired. I have to be creative. I have to be on my best behavior, to be every day doing my best work. And I have to use different words to speak to people, and I have to approach it differently and humbly tone down. So which one? If it’s about being Palestinian, yes, it is about being Palestinian, about having to discuss really harsh topics in a fashion context. And this is what I’m providing to the industry. This is what I’m going to do every single season, every single year. This is what I’m going to speak about. This is what I’m going to approach.CÉLINE: If you were to work at a big house, at a traditional fashion house, is there one you would want to be a part of?AYHAM: Unfortunately, everything is complicit with everything horrible that I don’t stand for. And that’s why I have to do my own thing. Of course, I would love to work with Givenchy and Dior… You’re talking about years and years and years of craft, beautiful work, talented people, and the money to do the absolute best work. Unfortunately, I realized that I don’t have a space in that place because they are complicit. That’s why it is really important for me to do my own thing. I have so much to say on every topic, not just Palestine."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Trump’s attack on Venezuela: An Exemplary Punishment",
"author" : "Simón Rodriguez",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/trumps-attack-on-venezuela-an-exemplary-punishment",
"date" : "2026-01-14 10:13:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Uncle_Sam_Straddles_the_Americas_Cartoon.jpg",
"excerpt" : "After four months of maritime siege in which the US military killed more than 100 people in alleged anti-drug trafficking operations and seized oil tankers, as well as the bombing of a small dock in northwestern Venezuela, Trump launched a large-scale attack and kidnapped de facto ruler Nicolás Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores, who were in Fuerte Tiuna, the country’s main military complex in Caracas.",
"content" : "After four months of maritime siege in which the US military killed more than 100 people in alleged anti-drug trafficking operations and seized oil tankers, as well as the bombing of a small dock in northwestern Venezuela, Trump launched a large-scale attack and kidnapped de facto ruler Nicolás Maduro and his wife Cilia Flores, who were in Fuerte Tiuna, the country’s main military complex in Caracas.The invaders attacked civilian targets such as the port of La Guaira, the Venezuelan Institute for Scientific Research, the Charallave airport, and electrical transmission infrastructure, as well as military installations in Caracas, Maracay, and Higuerote. The preliminary toll is around 80 dead and more than a hundred wounded. The US government claims that it suffered no casualties and that it had the support of infiltrators working for the CIA. This internal collaboration was crucial to the success of the attack.The Venezuelan military defeat has political causes, beyond US technical superiority. Chavismo has prioritized coup-proofing over military effectiveness, going so far as to have one of the highest rates of generals per capita in the world, who have been given control of various economic sectors for cronyism. Furthermore, the government lacks a military strategy for asymmetric resistance to imperialist aggression. During Chávez’s administration, in 2007, there was debate over which military model to adopt. Retired General Müller Rojas criticized the large investments in sophisticated military equipment, proposed by then-Defense Minister Raúl Isaías Baduel, proposing instead a doctrine of popular resistance and asymmetric warfare. Chávez settled the debate in Baduel’s favor, and in the following years, the Venezuelan government spent billions of dollars on arms purchases from Russia and China. This equipment proved useless in the face of the US attack, as the late Müller Rojas predicted, but it was part of the patronage system that enriched the Chavista military. Ironically, Baduel died as a political prisoner in 2021.Corrupt military personnel may be useful for repressing workers, students, or Indigenous peoples, but they can always be bribed. Maduro himself does not seem to have had much confidence in the Venezuelan military, having entrusted his security largely to Cuban military personnel, 32 of whom died in the US attack.Vice President Delcy Rodríguez assumed the interim presidency. She declared a state of emergency to avoid the constitutional requirement to call elections in the event of the head of state’s absence. The US government has stated that, through the continuation of the naval blockade and the threat of a second attack, it hopes to ensure that the Venezuelan government serves US interests. When asked whether they would use this pressure to demand the release of Venezuelan political prisoners, Trump responded emphatically that he is interested in oil, and everything else can wait.The rights of Venezuelans have never interested Trump, as demonstrated not only by his lack of interest in democratic rights in Venezuela, but also by the racist persecution of Venezuelan immigrants in the US, stigmatized by Trump as criminals and mentally ill people allegedly sent by Maduro to “invade” the country, a fascistic discourse endorsed by the Venezuelan right-wing leader María Corina Machado. Thousands of Venezuelans have been deported to Venezuela, while hundreds have been sent to the CECOT, Latin America’s largest torture center, run by the dictatorship of El Salvador, under false accusations of belonging to the Tren de Aragua, a gang classified as a terrorist organization by Trump.Delcy Rodríguez has reportedly already reached an agreement with Trump to deliver between 30 and 50 million barrels of oil. The US government would sell the oil, establishing offshore accounts for this purpose outside the control of its own Treasury Department; part of the petrodollars generated would be used to pay debtors, and payments in kind would be made to the Venezuelan state, including equipment and supplies for oil production itself, as well as food and medicine.This policy bears similarities to the “Oil for food” program applied as part of the sanctions regime of the 1990s against Iraq. That program became a huge source of corruption in the UN. We can expect something similar or worse from Trump’s corrupt government.We are facing a new version of imperialist “gunboat diplomacy” and the methods of the “Roosevelt Corollary,” on which the US based its invasion of Latin American and Caribbean countries in the first half of the 20th century, taking control of their customs, as in the cases of the Dominican Republic, Haiti, and Nicaragua.Rodríguez’s capitulation has been interpreted by some as evidence that her rise to power was agreed with Trump and that she represents a pro-US government. Certainly, Chavismo’s anti-imperialism was always rather performative, with the US maintaining a predominant presence in the oil industry through Chevron, and the US remaining Venezuela’s main trading partner until at least 2023. But diplomatic relations have not been reestablished, and the theft of Venezuelan oil has been enforced through a naval blockade and threats of new attacks, when the possibilities of storing oil on land or in ships off the Venezuelan coast reached their limit and the alternative was to stop production.The regime decided to cooperate with the extortionist Trump, not to resist. The traditional right-wing opposition, which celebrated the January 3 attack (describing it as the beginning of Venezuela’s liberation), welcomes Trump’s measures. Not even Trump’s humiliation of Machado, when he declared she lacked “support” and “respect” within Venezuela, has led Venezuelan Trumpists to regain a modicum of sobriety. Their entire political strategy, after Maduro’s 2024 electoral fraud, has been solely to wait for Trump to hand them power.Trump’s priorities are different, although they could converge in the future with Machado: to distract attention from recently published documents reflecting his friendship with the criminal Jeffrey Epstein; to enhance his foreign policy based on extortion, refuting the Democratic slogan “Trump Always Chickens Out”, and to manage billions of petrodollars at the service of his business circle. And finally, in a more strategic sense, it represents the application of the new National Security doctrine, which gives priority to absolute US control of the hemisphere, expelling its imperialist competitors, China and Russia. Venezuela represented the most vulnerable point in the hemisphere for spectacular and exemplary military action. After the attack on Venezuela, threats against Colombia, Mexico, and even Greenland follow.Chavismo itself largely created its own vulnerability after years of anti-popular and anti-worker policies, such as imposing a minimum wage of less than USD$5 per month, eliminating workers’ freedom of association, persecuting indigenous peoples, defunding public health and education, and forcing the migration of 8 million Venezuelan workers, all while favoring the emergence of a new Bolivarian bourgeoisie through rampant corruption, creating new chasms of social inequality.Until 2015, Chavismo ruled with the support of electoral majorities. After its defeat in that year’s parliamentary elections, it took a dictatorial turn, relying on repression and electoral fraud, while bleeding the economy dry to pay off foreign debt, creating hellish hyperinflation. The economy contracted by around 80% between 2013 and 2021, most of this before US sanctions. The destruction was such that the export of scrap metal, obtained from the dismantling of abandoned industries, became one of Venezuela’s largest exports.It is illustrative to recall the cables from the US embassy in Caracas to the State Department, published by Wikileaks, which asked the Obama administration not to publicly confront Chávez, as this would strengthen him in the context of widespread popular rejection of the US. The current situation is different, with many Venezuelans cynically accepting US domination. Opposing imperialist intervention, on the other hand, does not save dissidents from persecution either. The presidential candidate backed by the Communist Party of Venezuela in 2024, Enrique Márquez, has been in prison for 10 months without formal charges.The humiliation to which the Venezuelan people are subjected today, under the double yoke of a dictatorship and a US siege, is brutal. The policy of aggression against Latin America and the Caribbean, the perceived sphere of US dominance, gains momentum with this attack. A continental response, to defend the possibility of a free and dignified future for Venezuela and for all of Latin America and the Caribbean."
}
,
{
"title" : "A Lone Protester, Rain or Shine: One Man’s Daily Act of Dissent in Japan",
"author" : "Yumiko Sakuma",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/a-lone-protester-rain-or-shine",
"date" : "2026-01-13 10:00:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Lone_Gaza_Japan.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Photographs by Chisato Hikita",
"content" : "Photographs by Chisato HikitaThe way Japan’s grassroots activism has shown up for the people of Palestine has been nothing short of extraordinary. In a country known for its low political engagement, I’ve met countless newly woken activists who not only joined the international movement but have also incorporated direct action into their daily lives through street protests, fundraising events and content creation, writing campaigns, etc. Many of them express frustration that demonstrations in Japan aren’t as large as those abroad, or that their efforts seem to yield little visible change, but their persistence and quiet stubbornness are unlike anything I’ve ever seen.One of the figures who has emerged from this movement is Yusuke Furusawa, who has taken to the streets every single day, seven days a week, for more than two years, usually for an hour or so each time. I came across him on social media and reached out while I was in Tokyo.The day we met was an excruciatingly hot Saturday in July. On my way to meet him near Shinjuku Station, a sprawling terminal of train lines, subways, and shopping complexes, he messaged to say he’d had to relocate because of a nearby Uyoku (right-wing nationalist) presence. As I exited one wing of the station, I passed a large crowd gathered around Uryu Hirano, a young hardline activist who had just lost her bid for a national council seat.Then I found Furusawa, delivering a monologue about what the Palestinian people have been enduring, about the complicity of the Japanese government, and about the tangled relationship between the U.S. military-industrial complex and the Israeli state. He stood in the middle of two opposing streams of foot traffic, turning every few seconds to address people coming from both directions, waving a large flag and holding a sign that read “Stop GAZA Genocide.”In October 2023, he had been home-bound for Covid. “I was frustrated because I wanted to go to the protests but couldn’t. Finally, feeling restless, I eventually stumbled out holding a placard, that’s how it all began. When I thought about how I’ve never really taken any actions on this issue while seeing these terrible situations unfolding every day, I just couldn’t sort out my feelings.”Furusawa makes his living as a prop maker for a broadcasting company while occasionally getting gigs as a theater actor. He wasn’t particularly political until a few years ago when he joined a local grass-roots movement to elect Satoko Kishimoto, an environmental activist and water rights activist who had lived in Belgium, to be Suginami Ward mayor against the pro-business, pro-development incumbent. Especially, he was inspired by the Hitori Gaisen, solo street demonstration, movement which was triggered by one person who decided to campaign by standing quietly on the street with a sign, which spread like a wild fire and resulted in a win by Kishimoto, a move viewed as a victory of the People, who were determined to stop the over development and gentrification.'I’m not really good at group activities, so rallies and marches aren’t really my thing. I get too tired trying too hard to chant or keep up with everyone else.” Previously, he had been suffering from depression. “This has been helpful like as a daily rehabilitation activity.”Thus, he stands alone, daily and consistently. As I watched him speak under the glaring sun, I was struck by how most people don’t even look up, or notice him, seemingly so self-absorbed or focused on where they are going. Occasionally, non-Japanese people stop and take pictures of/with him. While I was there, a mother and a kid from Turkey stopped him to thank him through a translation app on her phone. She had tears in her eyes. Furusawa said he does get yelled at a few times a day and was once even choked by a person who identified as an IDF personnel.This was a few days after July 20th, when Japan had a national council election where more than 8 million people voted for candidates from the Sansei Party, which ran on “Japanese First” platform and a far-right, nationalist political messaging. Furusawa says, a few Japanese people who walk up to him with encouraging signs tend to be ultra nationalists and conservatives. “A lot of times, these guys who say to me ‘you are great for standing against the United States,’ are far right people, which makes me feel defeated.” And there are younger ones who mock him or laugh at him.Do you have an idea as to how long you’d be doing this? I asked him. Furusawa told me about the time an Aljazeela crew came to his apartment to shoot a segment on him. When he told them, “I will stop if Israel stopped bombing Gaza,” the reporter said, “That is how Japanese people forget about the Middle East.” Furusawa thinks about this episode daily. “I realized I hadn’t understood anything at all, and I felt this helplessness like all my actions over the past four months were being erased in an instant. That’s when I made the decision to do it every day. Those words swirled around me daily.”After I came back to New York, I procrastinated writing this story. I tried writing it many times in my head, but between being disappointed in the surge of xenophobia and racism in Japan, dealing with medical issues and being scared as an immigrant, my head was not in the right place to give a proper ending to this story. Then, so called “ceasefire” was announced. I thought of him and reached out.I apologized to him for not writing a story sooner. “I didn’t know how to write the story without glorifying the protest movements.”He told me attacks by people from Israel were happening increasingly, probably like three times more, especially after the UK recognized the state of Palestine. “They come at me with anger. I’ve also met a few people from Palestine thanking me with tears for what I do. I feel l need to keep a distance from these emotions because what I am really protesting against is the illegal occupation and apartheid of Palestine and how we are not really facing it.”He hadn’t stopped his protests, still standing out there every day with a flag and a sign, delivering his monologue. He does so because, for one, he did not trust the “ceasefire,” but also because what he stands against is not just the current wave of assaults, bombing, starvation, etc.“I want to keep going until we seriously tackle the issue, not just go through the superficial motions of Palestine’s state recognition. It isn’t about just stopping the war. It is about getting people to care so that nations collectively help them. I am not talking about months, more like years because it is going to take time.”Lately, after spending an hour on anti-genocide protest, he stands with another sign for 30 minutes or so before he goes home. The sign says “Delusion of Hate.” That is because he thinks Japan’s xenophobia and hatred come from delusions. “A mix of victim mentality and inferiority complex, plus delusions inflated by conspiracy theories that don’t even exist.”That is when I realized what he is really fighting is indifference. He went on, “Some might find my style of protests noisy, annoying, or unpleasant. I want them to reject it. I want to get on their nerves, or talk to their hearts. Maybe that is how we can break through the indifference. That is going to take time, like years of time.”"
}
,
{
"title" : "Sanctions are a Tool of Empire",
"author" : "Collis Browne",
"category" : "essays",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/sanctions-are-a-tool-of-empire",
"date" : "2026-01-13 08:35:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/Cover_EIP_Sanctions.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Sanctions & Embargoes only Hurt the People",
"content" : "Sanctions & Embargoes only Hurt the PeopleIn light of the economic collapse and ongoing social and political unrest in Venezuela and Iran, we must examine U.S. economic sanctions and how they contribute to and exacerbate these dynamics.Although framed as something much more innocuous or even righteous, sanctions are a form of economic warfare used to enforce U.S. & Western empire.What Sanctions AreSanctions block a country’s sovereign ability to act freely in a global world. They restrict trade, banking, investment, and access to global markets.Despite the myth of “free markets,” sanctions show how capitalism really works: Markets are only free when they serve power.They are usually installed against nations that show signs of independence from US and Western (capitalist) interests, such as any meaningful socialist policies, nationalizing resources or limiting foreign ownership or resources or property.Although the claim is usually around “punishing” a government for human rights abuses, There are plenty of governments that commit egregious human rights abuses that are never sanctioned because of favorable business policies towards US interests (global western capital), The US is itself guilty of grave human rights abuses both at home and abroad, so cannot claim to have any moral authority, and Many of the abuses are either exaggerated, outright fabricated, or are simply scapegoats to cover the real motives. To be clear: this does not excuse human rights abuses by any government, but sanctions are never the answer: they are never driven by a moral imperative, and are never successful in improving the materials conditions of the people of the countries affected.How Sanctions are UsedUS foreign policy uses sanctions as a key part of a familiar playbook: Claim that a government is a “dictatorship” or “threat” to democracy or security Cut the country off from trade and money Cause shortages, inflation, and unemployment People suffer — food, medicine, fuel become scarce Blame the suffering on the government, not the sanctions Further stir up unrest by covert actions on the ground agitating dissent and violence Often, provide material support for right-wing political opposition that favors US intervention and resource privatizationThe goal is pressure, chaos, and instability.The End GoalSanctions are a foundational step in a long-term campaign to destabilize a country or region by creating enough pain to force one of the following outcomes: Install a pro-U.S. government Enable or justify a coup Pave the way for military interventionAll of these are about resource extraction and unfettered access for multinational and Western corporations.Fact 1: Sanctions Don’t WorkSanctions Don’t Achieve Their Stated Political GoalsSince 1970, nearly 90% of sanctions have failed — meaning they did not force the target government to change its behavior or leadership. Report after report show that sanctions don’t produce freedom, democracy or peace, they produce suffering.Fact 2: Sanctions Punish PeopleSanctions Hurt the People, Not LeadersAcross 32 empirical studies*, sanctions were shown to: Increase poverty Increase inequality Increase mortality Worsen human rights outcomesRegional oligarchs and elites adapt, while ordinary people pay the price.Example: IraqIraq (1990s) Sanctions destroyed water, food, and healthcare systems Hundreds of thousands of civilians — many of them children — died as a direct result Saddam Hussein retained power, up until the eventual US invasionSanctions weakened the population, not the ruler.Example: VenezuelaVenezuela (2010s–present) Oil and banking sanctions collapsed imports and currency Medicine and food shortages surged Tens of thousands of excess deaths Massive emigration as millions fled the countryThe government survived. The people suffered. If anything, the sanctions contributed to the rise of the right-wing opposition against the strong socialist base of support.Example: SyriaSyria (2011–present) Sanctions began early in the conflict and intensified economic collapse They worsened shortages, unemployment, and infrastructure failure Economic destabilization deepened social fragmentation and displacementSanctions did not overthrow the government, but they amplified collapse, suffering, and long-term instability, making recovery and reconstruction nearly impossible.Example: IranIran (since 1979, and especially 2018–present) Sanctions targeted oil exports and global banking access Iran was cut off from foreign currency earnings The rial collapsed; inflation surged sharplySanctions directly restrict access to dollars and euros — forcing rapid currency devaluation, import inflation, and rising prices for basics even when goods are technically “allowed.”Inflation hits civilians first.Sanctions are a Tool of EmpireSanctions are a tool of global capitalist imperialism, and movements against US intervention must include a call against sanctions. They do not bring freedom or democracy. They enrich global financial elites, preserve imperial control, and devastate everyday people — again and again."
}
]
}