Why Language Matters
The Schøyen Collection MS 577, Oslo and London. Syriac Sertâ book script. Mt. Sinai, Egypt, ca. 11th c.
From the Monastery of St Catherine, Mt Sinai. Credit: Elizabeth G. Sørenssen & Jingru Høivik.
Saving Sureth
By Cal Abbo
In the heart of metro Detroit, the Chaldean community stands as a testament to the enduring spirit of an ancient people relocated. Rooted in the cradle of civilization, the Chaldean story is one of resilience, migration, and cultural preservation. Central to this narrative, and one that grants the Chaldean story its importance, is the Aramaic language—a linguistic bridge connecting modern Chaldeans to their storied past.
The Aramaic language, known today in its many names and dialects like Chaldean, Assyrian, Syriac, or Sureth, was once the lingua franca of vast swathes of the Middle East and served as the voice of culture and thought for many people in the region. This language, although it experienced a significant decline since that time, has become a defining feature of the Chaldean identity, especially as waves of Chaldeans migrated to new lands in search of opportunity and safety.
A Unique Voice in Detroit
When they arrived in Michigan, Chaldeans lived among a mosaic of immigrant groups. Each community brought its unique language and culture, although almost all were European. While there were some Middle Eastern immigrants who came to Detroit starting in the 1870s, many of them spoke Arabic, and most Chaldeans coming from villages could not easily communicate with them despite the cultural proximity.
The Chaldean community stood out, not just because of its distinct Middle Eastern heritage, but because of its ancient Aramaic dialect. European and Middle Eastern immigrants could communicate with one another, respectively; a Polish immigrant, for example, could find other Polish people in the area and create a community there. An Arabic speaker could find others that speak their language too. Chaldeans, on the other hand, maintained a small circle of Aramaic speakers, most of whom they knew from back home, and learned to rely on one another.
This linguistic distinction played a pivotal role in preserving the community’s identity. While many immigrant groups faced pressures to assimilate and abandon their native tongues, the Chaldean community’s commitment to its language became a beacon of cultural preservation, as Chaldeans most often learned their native tongue at home. This closeness of language and community helped spur Chaldeans to the forefront of business and culture in Michigan.
Over time, however, the commitment to language in the diaspora has faded. As the community grows larger, and more generations of Chaldeans are born in the United States, relationships with non-Chaldeans grow, and the native language becomes less useful in everyday life. Chaldeans tend to focus on English because it’s useful in all contexts and with all Americans, not just Chaldean ones. Today, many Chaldeans born outside of villages do not speak their native tongue.
A Language to Share
Language is about more than words. It’s a vessel for stories, traditions, and values. For the Chaldean community, Aramaic is more than a means of communication; it’s a lasting inheritance from their ancient homeland, a tool for imparting wisdom to younger generations, and a symbol of their enduring presence. As the modern world continues to evolve, the Aramaic language serves as a poignant reminder of the timeless bond between ancestors and the generations that follow.
The Chaldean community’s influence in Metro Detroit extends beyond its language. Their entrepreneurial spirit has left an indelible mark on the region’s business landscape and Chaldeans have a profound impact in the world of culture. Festivals, music, and culinary traditions have enriched the cultural tapestry of Michigan. Frequently, Chaldean words seep into the linguistic repertoire of Detroit and Michigan at large.
Why does the language matter today, though? Since Chaldeans have assimilated and acculturated to Detroit and many use English as their first language, it might seem a trivial issue. Through this process, however, the community is prone to losing the very thing that shapes its identity and made it successful.
Instead of letting our identity fade into obscure history, many Chaldeans choose to fight against full acculturation to American life and seek to reestablish Aramaic as a legitimate and useful language. As of right now, it faces a harsh reality of nonexistence. According to the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization, otherwise known as UNESCO, the Aramaic language spoken by Chaldeans is “definitely endangered.”
This is a simultaneous result of years of oppression and war plaguing the community in the Middle East combined with the reality of assimilation in the diaspora. Some families encourage their children to learn English rather than their heritage language so they can advance further in the English-speaking world. Other parents keep the native language to themselves so they can talk with one another privately. These efforts exacerbate the negative effects of the assimilation process and discourage a continuation of the Chaldean cultural identity.
How to Revive a Language
Throughout history, languages rise, fall, and change immeasurably. Linguists trace the languages we use today and connect them with ancient languages of the past. In modern times, Aramaic goes by many names, including Sureth, Chaldean, Syriac, Assyrian, and more.
Chris Salem founded the charity Nineveh Rising to send aid to the homeland and is involved in various efforts to rekindle the use of Sureth in everyday life. He claims that the community of Aramaic speakers worldwide can inspire a movement like the Hebrew revival to keep the language intact and in use. Indeed, there are some striking similarities between the Jewish and Chaldean histories.
Few languages and linguistic communities have experienced a mass revival comparable to Hebrew and the Jewish community. Throughout their well-documented history, Jews have been persecuted, enslaved, conquered, and displaced; yet they maintained a crucial link to their cultural identity and religion that carried them into the modern age and afforded them the opportunity to resettle their ancient homeland.
Around 130 AD, Judea revolted against the Roman Empire, but was defeated after a large war that lasted a few years. The population was massacred, the land of Judea was divided into three provinces, and many of the remaining Jews were forced to leave and resettle elsewhere in the empire. Historians tend to regard this event as the virtual death of Hebrew as a vernacular language. Most Jews left in Israel spoke Aramaic. Hebrew was maintained, however, among the religious order and as a liturgical language.
Over the last 150 years, Hebrew has experienced an extraordinary resurgence from its near-death. A strong Jewish nationalist ideology called Zionism took root among displaced Jews and inspired them to resettle Israel in a movement called Aliyah. Even before the beginning of WWII, more than 400,000 Jews had resettled Israel. Shortly after the war’s end, once the state of Israel was founded, Jewish immigration exploded, and nearly 800,000 people returned. Holocaust survivors made their way to the Holy Land.
In 1890, only 43,000 Jews lived in the area that would later become Israel. Today, because of the Zionist movement, more than 7 million Jews live in Israel and nearly all of them speak Hebrew. Jews in the diaspora were spread throughout Europe and the Middle East, and over hundreds and thousands of years, began to speak the local language instead of their native tongue. They needed a language in common to understand their compatriots in their new country, and many Jews knew Hebrew from religious rituals.
The revival didn’t begin, however, until the establishment of schools in Jewish settlements that taught Hebrew to children and adults. Since the language was used exclusively in religious tradition, however, it was incomplete and insufficient for everyday use. The shapers of the Hebrew revival borrowed words from other languages like Arabic, Aramaic, and many others. As time passed, Jews made concerted efforts to use Hebrew in meetings and public activities; finally, people began to use it for general purposes, and it grew exponentially from there. Jews around the world learn Hebrew to stay connected to their culture.
The Jewish example offers a roadmap for reviving a language, but there are some important differences between our communities. The Jewish diaspora began thousands of years ago, but the Chaldean diaspora is less than 200 years old. Zionism called Jews back to Israel after they were persecuted in other lands. This is not an option for Chaldeans, as our plight is reversed; we struggle with violence and persecution in our homeland, but Chaldeans are generally accepted and prosperous in the places we have moved to since leaving Iraq. Our traditional Catholic religion is well-suited for the western world compared to the vast differences between Judaism and western Christianity. In addition, Israel was granted statehood, autonomy, and legitimacy by the global community, but a state or province for Chaldeans in northern Iraq and eastern Turkey has been denied time and time again.
Many Chaldeans recognize the patterns and are dedicated to changing them by making life easier for Sureth speakers. Just this year, the Assyrian community in Chicago reached a historic win by implementing a basic Sureth course, which students can take for credit, in their local high school. In Detroit, the Chaldean Community Foundation is developing a language assessment that bilingual high school students can take for a language credit.
Other efforts aim to fully reestablish the use of Sureth in our community. Among the clergy, knowledge of Sureth is required, and Chaldean Mass in our native language happens weekly. Throughout Detroit, many organizations put on Sureth language classes, including the University of Detroit Mercy, the Chaldean Cultural Center, and St. Thomas Chaldean Catholic Church. When the Chaldean Community Foundation completes its facility in West Bloomfield, it plans to hold Sureth classes as well.
“Our parents’ generation is a dying breed,” according to Chris. “Once they’re gone, they’re gone. It’s not like we have a massive influx of people coming into our community. All roads lead to Sureth in terms of community, unity, building bonds, and cultural significance.”
