The Aramean Identity of Tur
‘Abdin and its Native Population
Johny Messo (2005)
Tur
‘Abdin, which basically denotes “the mountain of the servants [sc.
of God]” in
Aramaic, is the local name of an erstwhile densely populated
Christian region in Southeast-Turkey.
The
vast majority of its indigenous citizens have,
for obvious reasons, migrated to Western countries in recent
decades and the emerging demographic vacuum was swiftly filled by
myriads of infiltrating Kurdish tribes from the periphery and beyond.
In
their new diasporic reality these Tur ‘Abdinians were confronted with
identity questions in a challenging way. For some avidly claimed a
pre-Christian Assyrian ancestry, while others defended a connection with
the Aramean heritage; still others decided not to take sides.
Being a member of this community and familiar with its history, I see no
reason to doubt or even to repudiate its Aramean roots. On the contrary,
its Arameanness can be substantiated. Therefore, verifiable
arguments (albeit in brief and with occasional recognized references)
will be advanced in favor of the Aramean patrimony of the original
children of Tur ‘Abdin.
Let
us first touch on a rational aspect of the matter. One may reason:
“Whence this certainty about their Arameanness?” In all fairness, this
query should be dealt with – indiscriminately – by all people who appeal
to a specific national heritage. But it goes without saying that the
response needs to consist of logical and persuasive arguments supported
by indisputable facts. We can further ask: “What kinds of people reject
the Aramean descent of the Tur ‘Abdinians and what are their
motivations?” Here, one can distinguish essentially two kinds of people.
First, there are those who are, or prefer to stay, ignorant (derived
from ‘ignore’). Hence, some may judge out of ignorance. Others, however,
may not grasp the very idea of a direct link with an ancient people that
appeared on the political scene in the late second millennium B.C. Tur
‘Abdinians who endeavor to prove their claims, often encounter a lack of
concern in their history and in the end their identity may be questioned
anyway.
Second, there are people whose system of beliefs (or ‘ideology’,
‘world-view’) will not accept the recognition of the Aramean identity.
Many Turks, who govern Tur ‘Abdin politically and Kurds, who populate
and rule this area demographically, may stand as an example. Frankly,
there are even Tur ‘Abdinians who adhere to an ideological viewpoint
that rejects the Aramean identity at the expense of a politicized
‘Assyrian’ one; it is a truism that this group has affected, e.g.,
reporters, writers, politicians, human activists, etc. Besides, there
are the neutrals who, while obviously desiring to abstain from a
political standpoint, in effect deny the historical and ethnocultural
identity of the Syriac people.
It
follows from this that the resistance to the acknowledgement of the
Aramean identity is, in my view, mostly due to a person’s (ideological)
background. In most cases, the rejection itself has little, if anything,
to do with the actual issues at stake. Let us, therefore, focus on some
of the prime arguments that really matter to this historical
debate on the Tur ‘Abdinian identity.
1.)
History / Geography. The ancient
Arameans were native to Mesopotamia and historians,
Assyriologists included, affirm the Aramean roots of Tur ‘Abdin. Current
Aramaic toponyms, some of which date back to the Neo- and the Middle
Assyrian epoch, also point to this fact. (Cf. my “The Indigenous Origins
of the Arameans of Upper Mesopotamia,” in an earlier Bahro Suryoyo
issue.) Although Kurds and, to a lesser degree, Turks have deeply
penetrated into the area of Tur ‘Abdin, both of these nations are
originally foreign to this countryside; this fact is widely accepted,
also among their historians. I would further argue that the tribal
structure of the Tur ‘Abdinians is a continuous tradition of the
typical Aramean society in Antiquity. E.g., in Tur ‘Abdin Aramaic it
would be natural to refer to the family of this writer as ‘b(ē)-Messo’;
my father’s grandfather, Israel b(ē)-Messo, inherited his family name
from his great-grandfather. This ‘b(ē)’ is a linguistic
development from ‘bēth’ (lit. ‘house of’), a so-called construct
state of ‘bayto’ (‘house’); the form ‘bēth’ is still
preserved in
Edessan Aramaic. This long-lasting practice is reminiscent of
the way ancient Aramean states were styled by means of ‘bēth’ + a
personal name, usually the name “of an ancestor or prominent member of a
dominant family within the kingdom”;
e.g., Bēth (Akkadian: ‘Bīt’) Zammāni.
Unlike the Arameans, their neighbors from Assyria, for instance, “were
not basically tribal, and beliefs about descent from a common ancestor
played no part in uniting Assyrians.”
2.)
Language / Culture.
Aramaic developed as an indigenous language of the Tur
‘Abdinian plateau.
Tur ‘Abdinians have maintained two centuries-old Aramaic
dialects. The first one, a living speech which is not standardized yet,
is commonly called ‘Turoyo’
or ‘modern Syriac’; I think ‘Tur ‘Abdin Aramaic’ is more accurate. The
other one emerged as the literary dialect of the Edessan locale and is
usually called ‘(Classical) Syriac’; I opt for ‘Edessan
(Aramaic)’. Thus the linguistic Aramean identity of the Tur
‘Abdinians is indigenous and goes back to a period prior to the
internationalization of Aramaic; it would be difficult to presume
otherwise, given the fact that centuries before the tongue of the
Arameans would become an international language the Tur ‘Abdin region
was clearly depicted as ‘Aramean’ in Assyrian sources.
Even though the idiom of Tur ‘Abdin’s citizens, obviously, further
developed in its long history, they have never relinquished their
original language.
Hence their Aramaic mother tongue, which they were able to retain, can
be regarded as serious evidence of their Aramean lineage.
The
concept of ‘language’ is one of the most significant identity markers.
While experts are still debating the degree to which languages determine
someone’s identity, they agree on other points. One’s mother tongue
is seen as more than merely a communicative medium. In fact, it is the
most efficient and primary carrier of a people’s culture and identity.
Hence living languages have sometimes been portrayed as the ‘soul’ or
the ‘heartbeat’ of vital nations. Conversely, language death has
sometimes been interpreted as the disappearance of a people. The
historian Georges Roux,
for example, saw the prelude to the ultimate assimilation of the
Assyrians in the loss of their mother tongue, Akkadian. Although there
are exceptions to this idea, it is generally agreed that when a people
forgets its native mother language, it will be deprived of one of
the major assets and natural manifestations of its national
cultural heritage. In addition, (politicized) languages have frequently
been used as the main criterion by which nations have identified
themselves with; Europe contains a sufficient number of examples.
3.)
Religion. Some 2,000 years ago, the Tur ‘Abdinians were
polytheists and pagans before their early conversion to Christianity in
massive numbers. Even though their faith was (is) universal, after the
5th-6th centuries A.D. the ‘Syriac-Orthodox’ church would soon evolve
into an ethnic or national church. Indeed, as monotheists they remained,
in varying degrees, distinguishable from the Jews, the other
church communities (e.g., Copts, Greeks, Armenians) and, from the
seventh century on, the Muslims. Chiefly their native tongue (see 2,
above), their ethnicity (see 4, below) and their peculiar Christian
faith with their own hierarchy, their Aramaic Bible and their saints
reinforced the awareness of cultural differences.
But with respect to their identity, the most powerful and lasting impact
of their submission to the Gospel brought about a change in the
self-designation of their identity. That is to say, while the
Greek-speaking world already applied the originally foreign and Greek
name ‘Syrian’ to the Arameans before Christianity (cf. the Septuagint
and Posidonius), the people themselves still continued to utilize their
local and Aramaic name ‘Aramean’ in the early centuries A.D. The
Arameans themselves, too, finally adopted the alien appellative ‘Syrian’
as a self-ascription for their people, tongue and culture somewhere
between the 3rd-5th centuries A.D. for reasons unimportant here (also
consult some prominent grammars of Aramaic dialects).
The point to stress here is that this ‘name change’ was facilitated, if
not directly caused, by their acceptation of the Gospel, which generated
a deep and lasting impact on the Arameans.
4.)
Ethnicity. Following the useful definition of one modern scholar,
we consider ‘ethnicity’ here as “the expression of a consciousness of
collective identity.”
This very concept “both includes and excludes. It creates a boundary
between an in-group and an out-group.”
Thus ethnic identity dichotomizes between the ‘self’ and the ‘non-self’,
between ‘we’ and ‘them’. The key issue in this regard, then, is the
self-perception of a given people. Or, in our context: how do Tur
‘Abdinians call themselves and how have they done so in the previous
millennia?
The
original people of the Tur ‘Abdin district, for convenience’s sake
called ‘Tur ‘Abdinians’, are part of the Syriac people. In their Aramaic
parlance they identify themselves as ‘Suryoye’ (singular ‘Suryoyo’),
pronounced with a regular s, meaning ‘Syrians’ (not to be
confused with the Arab Muslims of Syria, the somewhat artificial name
‘Syriacs’ is being used instead). And if we study the early literary
works composed in Edessan Aramaic, it appears that the Syriacs of
Mesopotamia have used this name as a self-reference for the past 1,700
or so years. However, there is more to highlight. In the previous
paragraph we had already observed the adoption of the appellative
‘Syrian’ at the cost of their former name, ‘Aramean’. Interestingly, the
early Syriacs themselves, both from the West- and the East-Syriac
tradition, were very much aware of this name change (cf., e.g., the
lexicon of the East-Syriac lexicographer Bar Bahlul [d. 963] from
Baghdad under ‘Sūrya/Syria’). However, the difference was that
they thought that this shift took place centuries before their
ancestors embraced the Christian faith, while today we know that this
rather came about shortly after their large-scale conversion.
Moreover, there are copious references to early manuscripts wherein the
authors deliberately utilize their former self-designation ‘Aramean’ as
an equivalent of ‘Suryoyo’. In fact, for the early Arameans their new
name ‘Suryoye’ basically signified their being Christian Arameans;
indeed, the appellation ‘Suryoye’ came to symbolize their Christianized
Aramean identity. Let us now turn to Tur ‘Abdin and its vicinity and
take a brief chronological look at the data and examine how the
greatest Syriac scholars in this ancient Aramean milieu
saw themselves.
It
is truly fascinating to discover that Ephrem (d. 373), who was born in
Nisibin (whence he fled to Edessa in 363), “speaks of Aram
as ‘our country’ in a number of places.”
It has been further confirmed that “Ephrem himself uses the word
‘Aramaic’ to describe his language.”
“But the Philosopher of the Syrians,” as Ephrem derided the Edessan
intellectual Bar-Daisan (d. 222), “made himself a laughing-stock among
Syrians and Greeks.”
Oddly, the English translation rendered the actual name ‘Arameans’ in
the text twice with ‘Syrians’ here! These ‘Arameans’, explicated an
authority on Ephrem, “sind die orthodoxen Syrer von Edessa.”
In a metrical homily, Jacob of Serugh
(d. 521) writes about Ephrem: “He who became a crown for the people of
the Aramaeans [armāyūthā], (and) by him we have been brought
close to spiritual beauty.”
Perhaps a closer translation of the Aramaic word ‘armāyūthā’
would here be ‘Arameandom’ (cf. German ‘Aramäertum’). Also notice the
synonymous use of the name ‘Suryoye’ two lines further in the same
couplet: “He who raised up the horn of the Syrians everywhere, (and)
from him henceforth we have learnt to sing to the Lord with sweet
songs.” We conclude by citing two other eminent writers from just a few
centuries later. A native of today’s Malatya (Turkey), Jacob Bar-Salibi
ended his clerical career as Metropolitan of modern Diyarbakir from 1166
on; here he died and was buried in 1171. “As to us Syriacs,” he
specified to an Armenian audience, “we descend racially [sic] from Shem,
and our father is Kemuel [the] son of Aram,
and from this name of Aram we are also called sometimes in the Books by
the name of ‘Arameans’.”Like Bar Salibi, Michael the Elder (d. 1199) was born in
Malatya. During his Patriarchate (1166-), he completed a voluminous
chronicle in 1195. In this work, the Aramaic pages 7, 17
and 748ff. are of particular interest to those concerned with the
historical identity of the Syriacs. His explication of Gen. 10:22 (cf.
above and n. 20) on p. 7 is captivating: “The sons of Shem (are): the
Assyrians, the Chaldeans, the Ludians, the Arameans who are the Syrians,
the Hebrews and the Persians.” On p. 748, Michael appended a highly
interesting exposition on the pre-Christian history of his people to his
Chronography. It commences thus: “[… t]he kingdoms which have been
established in Antiquity by our race, (that of) the Aramaeans, namely
the descendants of Aram, who were called Syrians.”
We
have just seen that a few of the most celebrated scholars of Syriac
Christianity, and there are also others like them, were indeed very
conscious of their ancient-old Aramean identity. As Christian Arameans,
or Syriacs, they continued to view themselves as the sons of Aram –
their legendary ancestor; frankly, to the best of my knowledge, there
exist no pre-19th century manuscripts in Edessan Aramaic wherein ‘Ashur’
surfaces as the self-professed forefather. If the Syriac
intelligentsia thought and believed they were (the heirs of the)
Arameans, how much more would the common folks and the masses have
cherished this conviction?
I want to elaborate a little more on this issue, for I do not think that
we can ever overrate the explicit and indisputable written
evidence of the self-testimonies of the intellectual forefront of Syriac
society, which clearly appeared to thrive from Ephrem’s century on. In
fact, this argument of self-perception – to my mind, the most cogent of
all – still goes largely unnoticed by many experts and scholars not
familiar with Syriac-Aramaic Studies. Small wonder, then, that
historians claimed that the Arameans were also lost in the mists of
history. Unfortunately, this part of history is even unknown to the bulk
of the Syriac people. Thus it was chiefly for them that their rich and
unique, but ‘buried’, legacy was revealed and charted by scholars in
The Hidden Pearl: The Syriac Orthodox Church and The Aramaic Heritage
(Rome, 2001).
The Proper Name. As we stated
above, Tur ‘Abdinians who ended up in a Western Diaspora were
increasingly faced with questions pertaining to their history and
identity. One of them is the issue of the proper designation of their
people and language. Nowadays ‘Syrian(s)’, as we mentioned earlier, is a
displeasing self-identifier in the eyes of most Tur ‘Abdinians due to
its inevitable association with the denizens of the ‘Syrian Arab
Republic’. Thus alternatives have been put forward in the past,
but to this writer the next three names gain the most support.
A.
Syriacs. Until fairly recently, the appellation ‘Syriac’ was
still solely in use as an adjective that designated a language.
However, after this meaning has been extended to refer to the name of
the people as well, a comprehensible, but admittedly factitious, term
was created. As of late, it is evident that this new usage is
extensively in use in the English-speaking world. Still, the academic
world continues to use and translate ‘Syrians’ wherever it is to be
expected. Thus, to some people the term ‘Syriacs’ clearly lacks a firm
historical foundation.
B.
Ancient Syrians. The adjective ‘ancient’ provides some
clarification. For this compound name implies that the ‘Suryoye’
antedate the modern-day ‘Syrians’ from Syria and need to be
differentiated from each other. The idea is not new, though. The concept
has existed for centuries and via the Arabic language it entered the
Turkish vocabulary. Moreover, it seems as if the Turkish form gave rise
to the creation of the artificial name ‘Syrian’ in Swedish. As far as I
know, Swedish is further the only other language that similarly discerns
a ‘Syrian’ (i.e. ‘Suryoyo’; plural ‘Syrianer’) from a ‘Syrier’ (i.e., a
resident of Syria; plural is also ‘Syrier’). In translating Aramaic
texts, one could well insert the adjective ‘ancient’ in square brackets,
viz. ‘[Ancient] Syrians’, and write about the ‘Ancient Syrians’ instead
of the ‘Syrians’ sec.
C.
Arameans. There is an irony here. The forefathers of the
‘Suryoye’ were forced by external factors to drop their native name and
adopt a foreign one that was in use at the time. Today, however, they
once again seem to be driven by outside pressures to seek a solution for
the connotations attached to the translation of their self-reference,
‘Suryoye’ (i.e. ‘Syrians’).
Would it not be wise for the present generation to consult its
intellectual legacy for solutions? The strong and conscious belief in
the Aramean ancestry is what the early Syriac society actually and
really believed. Moreover, even the early Syriacs were aware that before
they were known as ‘Suryoye’ their native name was formerly ‘Arameans’.
I suggest, therefore, that the Tur ‘Abdinians – nay, all the Syriacs
– call themselves and their language ‘Aramean’ and ‘Aramaic’
respectively. These names are not new, nor are they strange to the world
community. They are widely familiar thanks to the Bible, which shows,
for instance, how the ancestors of the Jewish people are explicitly
identified as ‘Aramean(s)’, that certain portions were penned in
‘Aramaic’ and that Jesus and His apostles communicated in Aramaic. But
above all, the resuscitation of their former native name would
demonstrate an undeniable and historically well-founded continuity
with the convictions of their intellectual ancestors. The appropriation
of the ‘Syrian’ name by the ‘Syrian Arab Republic’ might thus lead to a
re-adoption of the previous self-designation of the ‘Suryoye’, viz.
‘Arameans’ and ‘Aramaic’. And this, I think, surely would be an irony of
history.
In sum, in this study we attempted
to substantiate the Aramean roots of the autochthonous people of Tur
‘Abdin from different perspectives. The Tur ‘Abdinians have lived for
centuries in Tur ‘Abdin and, as we remarked, the ancient Arameans were
historically indigenous to the geographical landscape of Upper
Mesopotamia, which includes Tur ‘Abdin. We further noted that despite
the logical linguistic changes over time, the Arameans of Tur ‘Abdin
have always kept their original Aramaic mother tongue alive. In their
case, we contended, their Aramaic vernacular was like a cord that kept a
remnant together and provided it continuity with their forbears, in that
their language functioned as the guardian of its speakers’ history and
of their Christianized identity. For the polytheistic Arameans converted
in considerable numbers to Christianity. But as time went by, these
monotheists stayed distinguished from their neighbors. Their being
Christian thus brings us straight back to a pre-Islamic civilization.
Moreover, because they accepted the Christian Gospel as the truth, they
distanced themselves from their heathen countrymen by accepting, under
outside pressures, the foreign name ‘Syrian(s)’ as a self-reference. We
demonstrated, however, that they never forgot their roots. They
remained cognizant of the fact that their original name was ‘Aramean’
and they even used it in their writings – either alone or they mentioned
it in one breath with their new name. Furthermore, they upheld the
belief in an eponymous ancestor, viz. ‘Aram’, and ventured to endorse
this with Biblical authority. Lastly, it was suggested that the
undesired associations attached to their identity in Western languages
can be solved when the Syriacs (incl. Tur ‘Abdinians) return to their
original name. For such an irony of history could become the example
par excellence of a true and well-founded historical continuity with
their forefathers.
In
conclusion, therefore, we might ask: “Whence this certainty about the
Aramean ancestry of the Tur ‘Abdinians?” The indigenous people of Tur
‘Abdin and its vicinity, we will reply, are (the offspring of the
ancient) Arameans, because their Arameanness can be corroborated –
historically & geographically; linguistically & culturally; religiously;
and, finally, ethnically.
I
would like to end with two quotes. The late Professor Rudolf Macuch
(1913-1993) stated: “Tur ‘Abdin has a history of one and a half
millennia before the conversion of its Aramean inhabitants to
Christianity and is mentioned in several Assyrian records, such as
Adadninari I (1305-1274) and Salmanassar I (1274-1244), in which wine
regions, especially the good wine of the Mount Izala, a name still used
for the southern part of Tur ‘Abdin, is mentioned.”
In
spite of the westward expansion of the Assyrian empire in the 9th
century B.C., Professor Edward Lipiński,
who authored a detailed book on the Arameans (n. 2, above), noted: “The
area around the Tūr ‘Abdīn remained a main centre of speakers of Aramaic
through centuries, and it is no hazard that Nusaybin and Mardin, to the
south of the mountain, and Amida, to its north, were later important
centres of the earliest Christian literature in Aramaic.”
These and similar resemblances remain largely unnoticed in the
literature. E.g., E. Lipiński, The Aramaeans: Their Ancient
History, Culture, Religion (Peeters, 2000) appears, at times,
all-too-enthusiastically looking for similarities between the
ancient Arameans on the one hand and modern Arabs and Bedouins on
the other, while disregarding the existing analogies with the
present-day Syriacs, the true progeny of the Arameans of Antiquity.
Also note that the “two important verbal roots expressing” concepts
that mark the Aramean ‘economy’ (p. 515), have subsisted in Tur
‘Abdin Aramaic in their original meanings: zbn (zbd
must be a typo!) which “signifies the act of purchasing as well as
the act of selling” and ‘bd that still conveys meanings like
“to work” and “to serve.” In contrast, a scholar well-familiar with
the Syriacs, Andrew N. Palmer, Monk and Mason on the Tigris
Frontier: The Early History of Tur ‘Abdin (Cambridge University
Press, 1990), p. 15,
rightly remarks on Tur
‘Abdin: “Not only are several of the village names still in use,
even these types of farming and the same skill in metalwork are
characteristic of the ancient Aramaic stock of Christians who are
the hereditary inhabitants of the plateau.”
Sometimes they call themselves ‘Suroye’ (singular ‘Suroyo’),
pronounced with a rather sharpened s, which simply has come
to mean ‘Christians’; hence this appellation could (can) also be
applied to any Christian people, irrespective of their ethnic
backgrounds. I posit that ‘Suroyo’ is derived from ‘Suryoyo’ and
linguistically to be explained as a haplology (i.e., a sound
or syllable which can be swallowed when this recurs in a given
word). A similar development occurred among the East-Syriac tribes
who use ‘Suraya’ (with regular s) as a self-reference.
However, the difference is that ‘Suraya’ retained its original
meaning ‘Syrian’ and did not change semantically.
S.H. Griffith, “Christianity in Edessa and the Syriac-Speaking
World: Mani, Bar Daysan, and Ephraem; the Struggle for Allegiance on
the Aramean Frontier,” in Journal of the Canadian Society for
Syriac Studies 2 (2002), p. 20 n. 76.
See “Against Bardaisan’s ‘Domnus’,” in C.W. Mitchell, S.
Ephraim’s Prose Refutations of Mani, Marcion and Bardaisan.
Transcribed from the Palimpsest B.M. Add. 14623 Vol. 2 (1921),
pp. 7f.
E. Beck, “Ephräms Rede gegen eine philosophische Schrift des
Bardaisan, übersetzt und erklärt,” in Oriens Christianus 60
(1976), pp. 32f n. 26.
Jacob of Serugh (sc. Turkish Suruç, ca. 35 km
southwest of Edessa) was a native of Kurtam on the Euphrates.
Scholars aver that the Bible contains two traditions with respect to
the eponymous ancestor of the Arameans. The first “Aram” is the son
of Shem (Gen. 10:22f.), while his namesake in Gen. 22:21 is the son
of Kemuel (“the father of Aram”). So is the remark of Bar-Salibi,
as Mingana contended in a footnote, an “error [that] is also
committed by the Syrian lexicographers” likely due to a confusion
with Gen. 10:22, where “Aram” does duty as a son (of Shem)? Or
should we understand this phrase in the sense of Kemuel being a
(distant grand)son of Shem, thereby complying with other Syriac
writers (e.g., Michael the Elder [d. 1199] and Bar ‘Ebroyo [d.
1286]) who understood the Aram of Gen. 10:22-23 as their legendary
progenitor? For Kemuel was the son of Nachor, Abraham’s brother
(Gen. 22:20), and therefore a distant grandson of Shem (Gen.
11:10-29). However, in one of his works the East-Syriac bishop
Yeshu‘dad of
Hadītha (d. 853), some 200 km northwest of Baghdad, explained
unambiguously that the Syriacs, or “Arameans of Mesopotamia,”
descended from Aram, the son of Kemuel.
As per the
translation of
L. van Rompay, “Jacob of Edessa and the early history of Edessa,” in
G.J. Reinink & A.C. Klugkist (eds.), After Bardaisan: Studies on
Continuity and Change in Syriac Christianity in Honour of Professor
Han J. W. Drijvers (Groningen, 1999), p. 277.
Even the historian and
traveler from Iraq, ‘Alī ibn al-Husain al-Mas‘ūdi
(d. 957), also titled the ‘Herodotus of the Arabs’, “mentions that
in Tūr ‘Abdīn
remnants of the Aramaeans still survive.” See the entry ‘Tūr
‘Abdīn’ in P.J.
Bearman et al. (eds.), in The Encyclopaedia of Islam
[revised from the German edition of 1934] Vol. X (Leiden: Brill,
2000), p. 666. The first author (M. Streck) and the recent reviser (W.P.
Heinrichs) further stated: “In the early Byzantine period and the
first centuries of Islam, Tūr
‘Abdīn
was probably inhabited almost entirely [sic] by Christian Aramaeans.
Later, more and more Muslims (mainly Kurds) settled there.”
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