By Amal’s hand swiftly scratches against the sharp point of a freshly-polished wooden drawer. A grunt escapes her mouth and her head drops towards the bottom of her palm. The large and bloody gash asks to be treated, and she calmly makes her way to her medicine cabinet and pulls out the half-opened box of gauze sitting unused.
Beckoning her sister over, she helps her carefully wrap the gauze around her palm after cleaning the wound. Gratitude overwhelms her knowing that she has someone to help treat her injuries and peace overcomes her knowing she has access to medical tools like gauze.
As the gauze comfortably but firmly hugs her hand, remembrance settles in and guilt quickly follows as she remembers Gaza, her city. The birthplace of gauze, Gaza, is currently suffering, lacking in the exact resources it created for the rest of the world.
Gauze is a thin, translucent white fabric with an open-weave structure. The open-weave shape allows for the fabric to have tiny holes perfect for comfort and breathability. The yarn is intricately placed in pairs within a crossed pattern to keep the fabric fixed. A scraped knee, a gunshot wound, or a deep cut like Amal’s are all wrapped and protected by the Gazan invention.
We all know gauze, we’ve all seen it. You can Google its name and find many online and nearby stores to purchase it. It’s inexpensive, and massively produced collecting dust in our hospitals, pharmacies, and at-home emergency kits. It is a symbol of health and tells a long but buried story of Gazans’ gifts to modern medicine.
At the time I am writing this, it has been 47 days since October 7 and Palestinians have suffered close to 15,000 casualties with more than 33,000 wounded.
Gauze actually has many uses—medical and otherwise. The fabric is used in art and clothing. Gazzalum, another name for the fabric, can be made of silk or linen. Its sheer and thin fabric is found within blouses and dresses making it the perfect textile for summertime weather because of its airy and open composition. Particularly in the Medieval Ages, gauze began to be traded with many European countries. As such, the noble women in England, France, and Germany would drape gauze over a heart-shaped escoffion—a headpiece built with two horns made of wool and silk to resemble the shape of a heart.
Gauze, like many fabrics and tools, received its name from the city it was invented. For example, muslin which can be made from cotton or silk, is named after the city in which it was created—Mosul, Iraq. Traditionally woven gauze was made out of real cotton which proved difficult because the fibers could powder debris into the open wound. Now, thanks to the development and creation of gauze by Gazans, non-woven versions made from rayon or synthetic fibers are a staple in caring for the wounded.
Gaza’s geographical location makes it the perfect location to trade and share Palestinian excellence. The city is actually known for its weaving and textile industry as it is the second-largest source of employment for those living in Gaza and the West Bank. Palestinians are well-versed in dyeing fabrics and weaving together beautiful fabrics such as silk—much of which was imported from nearby Syria. Following the Nakba of 1948, the loom, which is the traditional tool to weave together these fabrics, dwindled in number. Most remaining looms are now industrial but many Palestinians, like those at Nöl Collective, are choosing to keep their culture, history, and legacy alive by creating a clothing brand that focuses on replicating authentic Palestinian fabrics and patterns.
Jawdat Sami al-Madhoun, a doctor’s assistant interviewed by Al-Jazeera, mentions that “there’s no gauze, no oxygen, no supplies” left in Gaza.
Gaza also lies alongside the Mediterranean Sea, making it a port city. The city is historically part of the Souk al-Dahab (The Gold Market), Silk Road, and Incense Road trade and market routes. Since growing blockages on food, many elders now use Souk al-Dahab as a means to sell family heirlooms in hopes of making a living. Understanding Gaza as an essential stop for textiles and fabrics, such as silk and gauze, and its nearness to the Mediterranean Sea, puts into perspective its role in modernizing land and the present-day accessibility of gauze. It was a point of connection for Europe, Asia, and Africa which made it a popular resting place for traders and travelers.
As of October 7, 2023, the 75-year ethnic cleansing of Palestinians escalated dramatically in a matter of hours. At the time I am writing this, it has been 47 days since October 7 and Palestinians have suffered close to 15,000 casualties with more than 33,000 wounded. Jawdat Sami al-Madhoun, a doctor’s assistant interviewed by Al-Jazeera, mentions that “there’s no gauze, no oxygen, no supplies” left in Gaza.
With little opportunity to import proper medical technologies and tools into the city, as well as Israel’s deliberate act of terrorism in cutting off electricity, people will continue to die. This includes the premature babies in the incubators and the patients left in the NICU who’ve passed due to a lack of oxygen and technology. How horrifically tragic the state of Gaza has become in which the birthplace of one of the most accessible and essential medical tools is now the city that has none left.
Oppressors will choose to deny the history and inventions of the oppressed to claim them as theirs. Erasing and changing narratives is a form of diminishment and ethnic cleansing.
After hours of sifting through history databases, encyclopedias, and textile sites to ensure utmost reporting accuracy, many of the more accessible resources on Google showed the same vague copied and pasted paragraphs on the origins of gauze. At one point, certain sites began to claim Gaza as a city that merely just sat at the border of Israel, despite there being no state of Israel at the time gauze was created.
Quickly, I came to understand that ethnic cleansing is not unique to physical extermination. Oppressors will choose to deny the history and inventions of the oppressed to claim them as theirs. Erasing and changing narratives is a form of diminishment and ethnic cleansing. Nevertheless, gauze originated in Gaza, and now Gaza is bleeding with no gauze in sight.
I leave you with this poem written by Em Barry and reposted by Nöl Collective.