Levi Clancy vie Wikimedia Commons

By Sarah Behjet

Matthew Nazari, a recent graduate of Harvard University and a proud Assyrian, has dealt with the repercussions of erasure firsthand. Nazari recounted his inability to find suray language resources online, rendering both the language and Assyrian culture invisible.

“It felt like others had a fundamental privilege over me, that they exist,” said Nazari upon socializing with non-Assyrian students in college.

Assyrians, the Indigenous people of Mesopotamia, have enduring cultural customs, a millennia-old language, and a tight-knit community. However, as a result of the 1914-1923 Assyrian Genocide (Seyfo), the vitality of the Assyrian community is in jeopardy. 

During the Seyfo, Djevdet Bey, the governor of Ottoman Turkey’s Van Province, organized 30,000 combined Turkish and Kurdish soldiers to perform genocidal acts towards Assyrians as well as Armenians and Greeks. The result of the Seyfo devastated the Assyrian community. As a result of the Seyfo and subsequent attacks, 750,000 Indigenous Assyrians were slaughtered. Many victims of such attacks were unarmed and undefended. 

The ruination in the lives of Assyrians serves as a constant reminder of the vulnerability of the community. An estimated 150,000 Assyrians remain globally, and with such scarcity, Assyrian vitality is in peril. The Assyrian-America diaspora is most prominent in Chicago, Illinois, as about 80,000 Assyrians reside in the Chicago metropolitan area. Other notable Assyrian-American hubs include Turlock, California; Phoenix, Arizona; San Jose, California; and Detroit, Michigan. 

Assyrian-Americans nationwide have fought tirelessly for widespread visibility. The erasure of their community since the Seyfo has greatly impacted how Assyrians identify with the culture.

Elizabeth Malek, the public relations manager of the Assyrian Student Association (ASA) at Arizona State University, said that society’s unfamiliarity with Assyrians led her to conceal her heritage. After writing an academic paper, Malek’s feelings began to shift.

“I came to see that being Assyrian isn’t just a cultural connection–it’s a unique and valuable part of who I am, linking me to the rich legacy of being an Indigenous modern-day Mesopotamian,” Malek said.

Onita Narso, Lead Writer and Editor for “Assyrian Appreciation”, sees the fight for Assyrian visibility as a necessity, noting that Assyrian advocacy is a testament to the sacrifices of Assyrian martyrs. “Every single Assyrian, whether full or mixed, should be proud of where they came from and the sacrifices made by those who came before us,” Narso remarked. 

Cultural pride in the Assyrian community often takes shape with youth engagement, something Allyson Massih attests to. Massih, the vice president of St. Thomas Assyrian Church’s youth group in New Britain, Connecticut, uses the position to teach Assyrian youth about various facets of the culture. To Massih, her work with youth is critical because “as our culture grows older and people become less active, slowly our culture will become less populated.”

For many, the endeavor of enlightening society about Assyrian culture is an act of expression. Zach Kando, a member of the Chicago Assyrian Dancers group, uses the medium of traditional Assyrian dances to make the community more perceptible. Dedicated to uploading instructional videos on dances such as khigga and bagiyeh, Kando hopes that his contributions will enable younger generations to follow suit. “It is still imperative we keep teaching the younger generation our language and customs so that they are not lost to time,” Kando urged. 

Malaak Massoud, a Syriac-Assyrian, channeled her cultural pride from Syriac-Assyrian soccer teams. After hearing many blast the song “Anna Kulan Suryoye” (“We Are All Syriac”) with pride, Massoud said that she “unlocked this passion for letting the whole world know who we [Assyrians] are.”

The collective power Assyrians cultivate has made strides in the current landscape of justice. Acute amounts of Assyrian erasure, namely concerning the Seyfo’s destruction, have diminished their fights for visibility. To Matthew Nazari, the battle for visibility is cumbersome, stating that “it’s as if time is running out.” However, continued community efforts have just recently gained ground in educational and governmental spheres. 

The Seyfo Center, a non-governmental organization (NGO), announced on July 20 that Arizona will become the first state to adopt Assyrian Genocide curriculum to be taught throughout the state’s high schools. This action helps to ensure that Assyrian narratives and brutality towards Assyrians will not be further erased. 

In addition, the 2030 United States Census is now slated to include an identity box for those who hail from the Middle East and North Africa. This classification would encompass the vast ethnic minorities of the Middle East and North Africa, namely Assyrians. This decision not only promotes the extrapolation of accurate data, but also validates Assyrians’ sense of identity. Billy Haido, an Assyrian-American, feels that the Census “will show us [Assyrians] and the rest of the country that we can get organized and we can be taken seriously.”

Assyrian erasure has impacted the lives of the diaspora profoundly. Christina Salem, the founder of Salem’s Vision, mentioned that being from Iraq “was particularly challenging during the War on Terror, as being from Iraq carried a stigma.” The stigmatization of Assyrian identity and attempts to silence the community have been met with great resilience and renewed vigor. Ancient Assyrians’ legacies, which include facilitating the transition from cuneiform to the alphabet, deserve “proper credit” according to Onita Narso. 

With each Kha b’Nissan (Assyrian New Year) celebrated, the robust Assyrian community flourishes for the world to see. By giving the Assyrian community the recognition and applause it deserves, the flower of Assyrian visibility will bloom for years to come.

Kha b’Nissan is celebrated on April 1 each year, as it means “the first of April” in Sureth.