Issue 50: Reviving An Ancient Tongue
Hulaulá's inaugural song "Ahu Khanem" is an inspiring effort to breathe life back into Aramaic
In 1886, Eliezer Ben Yehuda - the most significant linguist responsible for the revival of the Hebrew language - wrote the following declaration in his personal newspaper, HaTzvi (The Gazelle):
“The Hebrew language will go from the synagogue to the house of study, and from the house of study to the school, and from the school it will come into the home and... become a living language.”
Ben Yehuda grew up in a religious home and appreciated the role that Hebrew played in Jewish life. He also understood that reinventing the Biblical language from the finite parameters of religious study and ritual to routine human interaction was an essential component to creating a new Jewish identity and supporting Zionist national aspirations.
But Hebrew’s rebirth came at a price. Over the course of one or two generations the rich medley of languages spoken by immigrants to Israel faded into the backdrop of a Hebrew-dominant culture. Today you’ll just hear Hebrew, Arabic, Russian, and what I like to call “Netflix English”.
Which is why this music video piqued my interest:
I stumbled upon this song because an old friend, Adi Kadussi, shared the video on LinkedIn together with this passionate text that I’ve decided to share with you as well:
Aramaic?! Understanding Aramaic is essential to understanding Judaism’s past. Jews adopted it as their primary tongue sometime during the Babylonian exile (c. 5-6th century BCE) and continued to use it for another thousand years. The Babylonian Talmud, the central text to rabbinic Judaism, was written in Aramaic and Hebrew - both Semitic languages. In one Talmudic tractate (Sanhedrim 38b), the rabbis suggest that Adam - the first man - spoke Aramaic. And an opening passage of the Passover Haggadah that recalls the origin story of the Jewish people contains the following famous verse: Arami Oved Avi - “My father was a wandering Aramean.”
Aramaic served as the lingua franca of numerous kingdoms and empires across the Middle East for thousands of years. However, as Aramaic’s “Golden Age” subsided, the minority groups residing in Mesopotamia - including but not limited to Christians and Jews - continued to preserve the language. I haven’t had the opportunity to visit Iraqi Kurdistan or Iran, but I’ve spent significant time in southeast Turkey where many Kurds reside alongside a number of other distinct ethnic groups. Hiking around the areas of Hasankeyf, Midyat, and Uludere one quickly appreciates how the region’s challenging landscape - the rugged mountains and hidden valleys - supported the cultivation and preservation of distinct languages and dialects over the course of many centuries. Depending on one’s perspective, this process was intentional: mountain peoples around the world and throughout human history have sought to keep a degree of independence from state authority and the entrapments of mainstream civilization. Neo-Aramaic, the modern product of this evolutionary process, is a diverse set of languages and rare dialects.
Neo-Aramaic’s use has been in decline for decades. But the forces of globalization and migration have accelerated this process, reducing the already small numbers of Neo-Aramaic speakers to the point that many dialects are on the verge of extinction.
I spoke with Adi and Alon Azizi, who together founded Hulaulá, a project that seeks to share their ancestral language with the broader world through music. Hulaulá is the name for Northeastern Neo-Aramaic (or NENA) dialects spoken by the Jews of northeastern Iraqi Kurdistan and western Iran where Adi and Alon’s families originated from. Their families - like many from that region - relocated to Israel after the establishment of the state in 1948. Both gifted musicians, Adi and Alon embarked on a mission to preserve what is left of their families’ traditions, reconstruct it in a manner that is accessible to a modern, non-Aramaic speaking audience, revive Aramaic through sound. This is a different take on a trend in the contemporary Jewish world as experts and artists try to revitalize other dying languages like Ladino, Yiddish, and Judeo-Arabic.
Hulaulá’s inaugural song, “Ahu Khanem”, marries Biblical imagery, Aramaic and Farsi lyrics, and contemporary Middle Eastern beats. Much like the shepherd in the video and his many visions, “Ahu Khanem” invites viewers to be transported to a different time and place. The lyrics manage to feel both familiar and different. For Hebrew speakers, Aramaic has a friendly ring (the opening word shimsha, for example, is similar to the Hebrew word shemesh or “sun”) while also sounding different enough to give listeners pause. What were those words? What is happening here? Is the shepherd daydreaming or being assisted by hallucinogens? And what is this song all about???
Naturally, it is a love song about a strong and singular woman, Ahu Khanem.
The sun will wait in the sky
Until you wake up
The stars will twinkle together
Until you fall asleep
The moon blushes my dear
When it sees you
It shies away when it sees your face
And hides beneath the clouds
But what does Ahu Khanem mean?
Ahu is a female name commonly used in Turkey and Iran. It is the word for gazelle in Turkish, Aramaic, and Farsi and may have originated from the Middle Persian word ahuk. In Turkish (and perhaps other languages) the word is also associated with beauty. And Khanem (or Khanum in Farsi) is the equivalent to madam, in other words a title for a woman.
I knew that Adi and Alon were developing their lyrics from Aramaic songs and traditions passed on from older generations. The gazelle frequently appears in Biblical text, as well as other mystical writings in Judaism and other Middle Eastern faiths. In his new book, The Neo-Aramaic Oral Heritage of the Jews of Zakho, NENA expert Oz Aloni recounts a mystical tale involving two men chasing a gazelle.
So I dove down a rabbit hole in search of more clues about Ahu Khanem, this Mesopotamian Mrs. Robinson.
In 1961, Iranian novelist Ali Mohammad Afghani authored Shohar-e Ahu khanom (Madam Ahu’s Husband) which depicts the story of a baker who marries a second wife and the turmoil the decision brings upon the family. Due to the sensitive topic and its critical depiction of life for Iranian women, publishing companies were reluctant to print it. Nevertheless, the book became wildly popular and was turned into a film by 1968.
Ahu Khanum also is the title of two other songs by Iranian artists Martik and Shahram Solati. You can check them out here:
And here:
Neither holds a candle to what Hulaulá has accomplished. The balance of images, lyrics, and sound elevates “Ahu Khanem” to a different level, supporting Adi and Alon’s vision to transform a dying language into a living memory. I have a feeling that their ancestors, and Ben Yehuda, would be proud.
This week’s recommended readings are all about Neo-Aramaic and the peoples who spoke (and continue to speak) this resilient language.
I’ve included Chapter 3 of Oz Aloni’s “The Neo-Aramaic Oral Heritage of the Jews of Zakho,” a town near today’s border between Turkey and Iraq. The chapter unpacks “The King and the Wazir” whose plot, much like that of Tehran, deserves to be kept a secret for those of you who are adventurous enough to give it a read - no spoilers! It is definitely worth your time.
In the vast expanse of Neo-Aramaic linguistic scholarship, two names stand out among the rest: Professor Geoffrey Kahn of Cambridge University and Professor Yona Sabar of UCLA. Professor Sabar’s son Ariel is a journalist and author, and his 2013 piece “How to Save a Dying Language,” in Smithsonian Magazine is a wonderful fusion of both his own family background as well as the modern tale of Aramaic speakers in a strange land.
Don’t just read about Aramaic, listen to it as well! Here is a video of several conversations between grandchildren and grandparents in their native tongues. What is amazing is that they are each speaking distinct dialects that would only be partially recognizable if there were all in a room together!
Finally, I’d like to close with a quick comment about the holiday of Seharane - a Passover celebration by Kurdish and Aramaic Jews that has many parallels to Newroz, the Persian springtime festival, as well as the more widely known and popularized celebration of Mimouna, a Maghrebi Jewish festival held around the same time of year. Both Seharane and Mimouna appear to have served the purpose of establishing bridges between Jews and their non-Jewish neighbors during a period of extensive Jewish celebration. I am no Seharane expert, so I starting googling and discovered a Youtube series entitled “Seharane Storytime” and thought that this particular video with Benny Zaken is particularly educational:
I hope you find this edition’s content engaging. A special thank you to Adi Kadussi and Alon Azizi for taking the time to speak with me about their project. You can follow Hulaulá on Instagram and keep an ear out for their new releases on Spotify and Youtube.
Please share this newsletter with others.
-Gabi
Issue 50: Reviving An Ancient Tongue
Thank you for posting this! I am a writer with an interest in Mizrahi communities, particularly those in Iran. I've been trying to locate resources on Judeo-Neo-Aramaic dialects spoken in Iran and keep bumping into Yona (and Ariel) Sabar's work. As fascinating as it is, it is largely focused on Iraqi Kurdish Jews. You just gave me a name for the dialects in Iran! Thank you! I'm off to research, starting with the links here.