Knafeh holds a special place in the hearts of Palestinians as the national dessert, symbolising not only a culinary tradition but also a deep connection to the land. The dish is more than just a sweet treat; it represents a piece of Palestinian identity that has been passed down through generations, becoming a staple at gatherings and celebrations. It’s a dish that binds the past to the present, a thread of memory and resistance woven through time.
Among a dinner table of Palestinian friends, banter surrounds the conversation about who makes the best knafeh and what it looks like, with na3meh and khishneh (‘fine’ and ‘rough’) being among the most trivial disagreements. Na3meh and khishneh refer to whether the kataifi dough is ground up or not. If left as long doughy strings, the cooking process outputs a rougher texture; a crispier knafeh. Meanwhile, its na3meh counterpart outputs a smoother, finer texture that melts in your mouth.
The preparation of knafeh is often a communal activity marking a special occasion, with families and neighbours coming together in anticipation to prepare the dish. The making of knafeh is a ritual in itself. The dough is meticulously prepared, the cheese carefully chosen, and the syrup flavoured with orange blossom or rose water – a staple in Middle Eastern desserts. This dessert is not just eaten but often celebrated as the highlight of gatherings and a source of pride among those who make it. Drawing people in with its sweet and savoury scent, the aroma of knafeh wafts through Palestinian streets; whispers of home, of belonging, and of a land that refuses to be forgotten.
However, a more contentious division that Palestinians do not often like to talk about is the notable distinction between knafehs along colonial borders. These borders, drawn by the machinery of occupation, have sliced through the heart of Palestine, resulting in different recipes emerging across previously non-existent borders. Three key examples of this are the knafeh jaleeliyya, knafeh nabulseyyeh and knafeh ghazawiyya. Knafeh jaleeliyya is the knafeh made in the Galilee region of Palestine’s territories occupied in 1948, found in places like Akka, Haifa, and Nazareth. Knafeh nabulseyyeh originates from the city of Nablus, occupied in 1967, where its Palestinian inhabitants continue to live under military occupation. Last, but not least, is the knafeh ghazawiyya, which originates from Gaza City, also occupied in 1967 but notably also under blockade since 2007. This blockade has had a compounded strangle on Gaza’s economy over the years, limiting access to staple food items like cheese. Today, knafeh ghazawiyya can rarely be found in Gaza due to the total blockade and ongoing terror of the Israeli-US-Western Genocidal axis. The Palestinian people, like all human beings, find joy, life, and love in inventing familiar foods using unfamiliar ingredients, resulting in knafehs in Gaza today being made using graham crackers, stale bread, powdered milk, and whatever else can be found in the Imperialists’ aid packages. Cheese is as rare and scarce as a minute of silence free from buzzing drones, wails of martyrdom or the endless ringing in ears with tinnitus.
Cheese in Palestine and across the Arab world is typically white, semi-hard, and preserved in brine solution. Typically made from sheep, goat, and cow’s milk, it melts well, making it perfect for the texture of knafeh’s gooey interior. Before 1948, access to cheese and dairy products was linked to the seasons, class status for madaany (city) people, or whether a fallah (peasant/farmer) had cattle and could make their own dairy products. The creation of the State of Israel in 1948 significantly disrupted this access. The restrictions on movement, particularly with the increase in Israeli settlement-building in the West Bank from 1977 and the signing of the Oslo Accords in 1993, left Palestinian communities fractured along and within colonial borders. This was further cemented by the construction of the 708-kilometre long apartheid wall, and the blockade on the Gaza Strip since 2007.
Beyond physical barriers, the permit system – informed by an apartheid system of governance – prevents Palestinians from travelling freely across illegitimate borders, while Jewish and other non-Arab citizens of the state move freely, sometimes to the same destinations. Israelis carry different number plates and drive on different roads to Palestinians, making barriers and checkpoints (and apartheid) invisible to settlers. This is why it is not uncommon for settlers and visitors to “experience” Palestine/Israel and not bear witness to the settler-colonial enterprise (not unlike how Australians tread on colonial massacre sites every day); a reason why Palestinians have called on tourists to either boycott this destination or enter with their eyes wide open to masked structures of racial domination.
As a result of the intentional fracturing of Palestinian communities, Palestinians in the 1948 occupied territories, in the West Bank, and in Gaza, eat recognisably different knafehs despite the geographical closeness of these places. The variations in knafeh are a direct reflection of the fragmented nature of Palestinian society under occupation, with each region adapting the recipe to the ingredients available to them; each variation a story depicting the region’s experience with colonial borders. In Gaza, the blockade has banned hundreds of harmless food staples, like chocolate, from being imported. In the West Bank, hundreds of checkpoints make life difficult for the madany people and settlers often attack the crops and cattle of fellahin. Palestinians in the 1948 Occupied Territories have the least restriction, but encounter a psychological terror of a state hell-bent on erasing Palestinian identity – encountering pre-packaged supermarket knafeh labelled “Israeli” or, at best, “Mediterranean”.
Despite these differences, knafeh remains a unifying symbol of Palestinian identity, a reminder of shared heritage and resilience in the face of genocide and erasure, and an enduring hope for the day when these colonial borders will crumble and knafeh, in all its forms, can be shared freely through all of Palestine. When that time comes, Ethan and Rand will be found in Al Quds, tasting each of the many variations.
