Why Magical Practice Matters—And Why It’s Political

Witchcraft as an Ancient Power

Witchcraft is an art of personal and collective power. It predates the Abrahamic faiths, carrying knowledge passed down from the gods and ancestors who shaped human civilization itself. Over centuries, that power was banished, demonized, and driven underground—yet it endured in whispered rites, coded symbols, and quiet acts of resistance.

Those who sought to erase it failed. We are still here.

Embodying Resistance Through Ritual and Heritage

In Palestine, cultural practices—whether traditional embroidery (tatreez) or beloved dishes like maqluba—are living archives of national history.

During the Intifadas, tatreez became more than ornament: women embroidered motifs of Palestinian identity into their thobes, quietly defying bans on the Palestinian flag.

Likewise, maqluba is more than a family recipe. It’s a dish layered with meaning, a reminder of home and rootedness. Disputes over its origins highlight how even cuisine becomes a contested marker of identity.

The Politics of Cultural Appropriation—and Solidarity

Symbols like the keffiyeh or tatreez can either carry deep solidarity or be stripped of meaning through appropriation. Palestinians welcome gestures of support, but stress the importance of knowing the history behind these symbols.

Meanwhile, the Israeli appropriation of Palestinian dishes—hummus, falafel, and more—is part of a wider pattern of cultural erasure, claiming heritage as a way to displace the people who live it.

Sumud: Steadfastness as Spiritual Strategy

Sumud, meaning steadfastness, is a central Palestinian value: the refusal to let displacement sever the bond to place, culture, or identity. Whether tending olive trees or passing down a craft, daily acts become forms of resistance.

In this way, culture is not just memory—it is strategy.

Cultural Practice as Political Statement

Today, with the ongoing assault on Gaza, the fight for recognition of Palestinian statehood, and a global wave of solidarity, cultural expression has become more urgent than ever.

Student strikes, protests, and boycotts blend political action with cultural symbolism: keffiyehs draped over shoulders, embroidered thobes in the streets, traditional foods served at fundraisers. These aren’t just artifacts—they are declarations of existence.

When we practice magic, we do more than cast a spell. We honor the memory of our people. We resist erasure. We speak truth to power.

In the context of Palestine—where war, displacement, and resilience shape every day—every stitch, every recipe, every ritual becomes a statement: We are here, and we will not be forgotten.