The Complicated Relationship Between Adidas & Arabs

It’s a hot summer day in Amman Jordan in 2003. I am with a couple of my cousins browsing a strip of clothing stores. We decided to stop at a store that sells athletic clothing. At first glance, it looks like there is a wide selection of designs from Adidas to choose from. But at second glance, they are all knockoffs. Some have names such “Adibos” or “Adidos” on them. Others have four stripes instead of the German company’s trademark three.

I asked my cousins why these were even being sold. They told me that the quality was close enough and from a distance it looked like real Adidas. Later that summer, I was working at my father’s coffee shop in a mall and saw that they had an Adidas store on the second level. The store always seemed to attract traffic with many people interested in the latest gear, soccer balls, and cleats.

My experience in Amman is but a small microcosm of the fascination that a brand like Adidas has with Arabs. The company has a long history of being reputable in the region. Yet, at the same time, it has had a complex relationship in recent years with the Arab population. It has alienated Arabs with marketing decisions while also being at the forefront of inclusive designs. Perhaps more than any demographic that it caters to, Arabs and Adidas have a relationship that is filled with both love and contempt.

First Mover Advantage

There is an old joke that I was told in Arabic about Coca Cola. In short, when Coke expanded to Jordan it took over a town to overthrow Pepsi’s dominance in the region. After a bunch of investment, they come back to see their impact. And to their horror, when they ask a local what they thought, he says “oh it was great, they gave us a bunch of Pepsi and left”.

This perfectly illustrates the power of the first mover advantage in the Middle East. Often, once a company establishes a foothold in the market, they become the market leader, and it is incredibly difficult to overthrow them. This was the case in the beverage industry, and it has also been the case in the world of athletic wear.

Like most of the world, the Middle East is obsessed with soccer. It is played on the streets, in school yards, and there are countless soccer fields made of dirt and rocks. Kids save up money to afford a ball, it is a phenomenon that is akin to a universal language. Adidas was the face of soccer for many for decades, and as a result they have enjoyed a first mover advantage in the minds of Arabs.

Adidas was at the forefront of innovation in soccer cleats in the 1950s, with its Samba line being pivotal to the German national team’s 1954 World Cup victory over Hungary. Adidas also became the face of soccer balls in 1970, when it became the official ball of the World Cup. In the two decades that these two moments happened are important because from 1943-1971, nine different Arab countries gained their independence. The love of soccer was so strong even then, and as a result Adidas became a household name.

In essence, Adidas became associated with soccer and soccer stars. It is a position that it has not relinquished in the decades since, and that has stuck with many Arabs. The company frequently signs top talent to represent the brand with names such as Lionel Messi, David Beckham, Alessandro Del Piero, and Zinedine Zidane having been faces of the brand over the years.

This representation has mattered in terms of the popularity of the brand in the Middle East. The Zidane connection is especially notable, as he was born in Algeria before immigrating to France as a child. His acknowledgement and pride in his Algerian ancestry is something that Arabs rallied around, and as a result made Real Madrid a popular club. That foundation has set up Adidas as a notable and go-to brand in the region, but it has expanded in the years since.

Representation and Symbolism

Considering the parallel timelines of Adidas’ surge as a sportswear brand and the independence of Arab nations, the company rose into prominence and was the preferred choice of the next generation for its recognizable brand and comfort. In the 1980s and beyond, this came into focus during the Palestinian struggle for liberation.

Former leader of the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO) Yasser Arafat was often seen wearing Adidas Samba and Gazelle sneakers while in power. Footage of young Palestinians in the middle of attacks have also been photographed wearing Adidas pants, jackets, t-shirts, and sneakers. The foundation that the company set made its way to Palestinians of the next generation and inadvertently became symbols of resistance.

This also aligns with Adidas’ positioning during the 80s elsewhere, as it became synonymous in Black American culture with RUN DMC’s hit song “My Adidas”. In that decade, Adidas became pioneers of streetwear and as a result a symbol of general resistance. Adidas has never fully embraced or fashioned itself as part of the counterculture, but nevertheless that was the stature that they were granted.

In recent years, Adidas has identified its popularity in the Middle East and has developed specialty sportswear that is culturally and religiously relevant. For Muslim women, the brand released a sport hijab that covers the hair of athletes while also providing chlorine resistance while swimming. For men, they have released a qamis (a long tunic that is commonly worn by Muslim men in the Middle East and Africa) that is designed for movement while playing soccer.

As an Arab man that lived around many Muslims, these two products provide meaningful utility that shows an understanding of Arab and Muslim culture. The sport hijab turns a day at the beach into a more enjoyable experience to women that choose to wear hijab. The qamis instantly improves upon the material and versatility of traditional versions, allowing the streetwear style to align with traditional looks that Muslim men gravitate towards. The company has also introduced what it calls “modest clothing”, ensuring performance while still offering full body coverage to those that desire it.

These product releases and cultural attachments have endeared many Arabs, me included, to wearing Adidas over the years. But it has not all been positive between the brand and the people. There have been controversies and boycotts that have left many Arabs feeling scorned by the brand that so many of us have loved.

Feeling Abandoned

Over the last year and a half, the plight of the Palestinian people has been given more visibility in the West than I have ever seen in my life. When I was younger, during the Second Intifada, any news on what was happening in Palestine was often retrieved from outlets like Al-Jazeera. The mainstream news media outlets in the US would often underreport what was happening. Recently, with the advent of always-online social media that has changed.

Many users on TikTok have been served videos from Palestine, showing the plight and struggles of the Palestinian people. This started to shift much of the public sentiment in America and Europe towards Palestine, which has been a part of the reason why the US moved forward with banning the app (Taylor Lorenz has a great podcast episode about this subject, watch it HERE).

This climate of Palestinian sympathy has been countered with an incorrect correlation that any sympathy towards Palestine is viewed as being anti-Semitic. Most companies in the world would do almost anything to not be labeled as racist, especially when it comes to being racist against Jewish people. But perhaps no company wants to avoid that notion more than Adidas.

Adidas’ founders, Adi and Rudi Dassler, were both members of Germany’s Nazi Party. During World War II, the company's shoe factories were repurposed to create the Panzerschreck, an anti-tank rocket launcher. Following the war, the brothers split, and Adi took control of the company and helped to usher in its golden age in the 1950s. But the roots of the two men are tied to Adidas forever.

Fast forwarding to 2024, and the controversy that angered many Palestinians comes into better focus. As a way of commemorating the 1972 Olympics, Adidas was launching an ad campaign for the SL 72, a shoe that was designed specifically for those Olympics in Munich. Those Olympics were marred by an attack that resulted in the death of 11 Israeli athletes at the hands of the Palestinian militant group Black September.

For this renewed campaign, Adidas brought in Palestinian model Bella Hadid in a series of ads promoting the re-released sneaker. This prompted immediate outrage from the Israeli state and others, demanding that it be removed. Adidas complied and parted ways with Hadid. Hadid commented on the decision saying she would “never knowingly engage with any art or work that is linked to a horrible tragedy of any kind”.

The ad and the decision that followed angered both Israelis and Palestinians alike. Israelis felt it was a slap in the face to commemorate an event that resulted in dead countrymen with a Palestinian model. Palestinians were upset that Adidas caved to the pressure and belittled a Palestinian, terminating her contract for her vocal advocacy for Palestinian liberation.

The fallout from this event led to many Palestinians choosing to boycott Adidas. And this wasn’t the first time this happened. A decade prior, Adidas was outfitting soccer club teams that played in the occupied West Bank. Eventually Adidas ended the relationship as a result of the boycotts. From the perspective of a Palestinian American, the way that Adidas parted ways with Hadid felt like a public stoning of sorts.

The company allowed her to receive the vitriol of online communities while offering a very cookie cutter answer to criticisms that were levied against them. It can be argued that Adidas choosing to work with Hadid shows its capacity to empower a group of people that has been marginalized and murdered since 1948. However, its quick capitulation to not stand up for the person that they have forged a partnership with when Hadid did nothing except be born Palestinian, feels weak and gutless.

Much like we have seen with brands and corporations when it comes to social justice for Black people, it seems that Adidas is more than happy to sell us Arabs all the gear we can afford. But when it comes to showing solidarity and support, then it becomes a different conversation.

So how are we as Arabs to reckon with our relationship with this brand? Holding them to task and demanding them to be better is a huge part of it, but at the same time can we just ignore the attention that they have paid to gear products towards our culture?

Deep down, I think Adidas has a message of sports as a universal language. That regardless of where we come from, playing these games creates interpersonal connections that are so hard to find in modern society. That is a message that we as Arabs should cherish, considering how we have been villainized by the West for decades. But this doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t hold Adidas and other companies to standards of continuing to respect and value us beyond the money that is spent on merchandise.

Our relationship with Adidas is a complicated one, but it is also a strong connection. As an optimist, I can only hope that they see the value in working with Arab brand ambassadors and continue to create products that we will love to wear.