{"id":14469,"date":"2026-05-15T16:23:14","date_gmt":"2026-05-15T14:23:14","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/?p=14469"},"modified":"2026-05-16T07:31:12","modified_gmt":"2026-05-16T05:31:12","slug":"in-the-face-of-cultural-genocide-kurdish-identity-language-and-culture-in-syria","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/in-the-face-of-cultural-genocide-kurdish-identity-language-and-culture-in-syria\/","title":{"rendered":"In the Face of “Cultural Genocide”: Kurdish Identity, Language, and Culture in Syria"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n

This paper attempts to monitor Kurdish efforts to survive “cultural genocide” and confront it through the roles played by Kurdish elites and activists over more than one hundred years. Although cultural genocide has entered the lexicon of political literature in the post-Holocaust world and the reconsideration of the physical genocides suffered by entire peoples, the Kurdish case presents a clear model of genocidal policies that require more than just space for reflection and for showing how the Kurds partially survived those eliminatory and chauvinistic policies.<\/span><\/p>\n

In this paper, we review a public space for the policies of cultural genocide that were implemented in the post-Lausanne 1923 world, how Kurdish culture grew in mandate Syria, and how the stage of “defense by the pen” advanced through work on language, clubs, and newspapers. The study also attempts to identify three stages in the life of Kurdish national cultural work in Syria: the mandate period, the post-mandate period, and the era of the nationalists and the Ba’ath and the resulting policies of denying Kurdish identity, banning its expressions, and repressing those who worked on and sought to preserve and develop it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Beginnings of Denial and the Suppression of Kurdish Language and Identity<\/b><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

Kurdish identity grew with great difficulty within a repressive space and policies of denial inaugurated by the young Turkish Republic shortly after the Lausanne Agreement of 1923, and the adoption of Turkish as an identity that met the aspirations of the forced modernization upon which the nation-state model is based. Mustafa Kemal Atat\u00fcrk issued a decree on March 3, 1924, banning all Kurdish schools, associations, and publications. Kurdish was prohibited under threat of punishment, to the extent that the word “Kurd” or “Kurdistan” was classified as a legal violation warranting punishment. The ban extended to speaking Kurdish, which continued until 1991 when Turgut \u00d6zal lifted the ban and “granted” Kurds the right to speak Kurdish in the street.<\/span><\/p>\n

The matter did not stop there, as strict legal foundations were laid to implement policies of exile and dispersal of Kurds, and labeling them “Mountain Turks” since May 1932, less than a year after the failure of the armed Ararat\/A\u011fr\u0131 uprising and the declared civil “self-administration” there. Naturally, the relative success of Turkish denial, dispersal, and exile policies found resonance in Persia (later Iran), where Reza Pahlavi, even before assuming power, ordered the removal of Kurds to the southern provinces and banned the teaching of Kurdish in schools. Furthermore, Kurdish publications were banned from 1923 onward. The crackdown also included visual markers of Kurdish identity, such as banning clothing, music, and dance, and replacing Kurdish village and city names with Persian ones (Al-Sabaki, 1999). Possessing a single Kurdish book could result in a sentence of up to seven years in prison for the holder (Ethnicity and the State, 2006). Meanwhile, conditions were less tumultuous in the two mandate countries, Iraq and Syria. Indeed, the British and French mandates contributed to the growth of Kurdish identity in its two expressions: language and culture. Similarly, one can observe Soviet sponsorship of the development of Kurdish identity in Soviet Armenia through means almost identical to what happened in Iraq and Syria.<\/span><\/p>\n

In contrast to the coercive nature of the cultural genocide process, there is a voluntary aspect that can be termed “self-denial” of Kurdish national identity. Some theorists of Turkish nationalism were Kurds who had previously worked on highlighting Kurdish identity, such as Ziya G\u00f6kalp and \u015e\u00fckr\u00fc Sekban. It seemed to them, and to others as in the case of Muhammad Kurd Ali in Syria, that the path to modernization required choosing a new, unifying, and fabricated national identity to establish the Westphalian nation-state model. However, this voluntary renunciation was accompanied by a parallel Kurdish refusal and cultural resistance to what might be called the process of manufacturing nation-states pursued by Turkey and Iran, and later by Iraq and Syria.<\/span><\/p>\n

Within a long and winding path of the genocide process, mandate Syria witnessed an attempt to generate a Kurdish identity that could be a general Kurdistani identity despite the state of political fragmentation, dialect diversity, and the absence of a standard language. The efforts of the Khoybun movement (1927) and the brothers Celadet and Kamiran Bedirkhan made the Kurdish presence a situation closer to a Kurdish “Piedmont” (analogous to Piedmont, from which national consciousness and the process of Italian unification spread). Meanwhile, the process of language and cultural revival was inspired by the Latin and Hebrew models and their revival methods (Gorgas, 2013). Naturally, the mandate authorities subjected the question of Kurdish identity to the balance of Franco-Turkish relations. The path of the Kurdish cultural renaissance passed through a mixture of tolerance and turning a blind eye in some periods, and strictness and cessation of support and backing at other times. The Second Republic period, beginning in 1946, began to consecrate the homogeneity of culture and language, thus shaping Syrian identity according to the nation-state theory or, in David McDowall’s expression, the moment of the “victory of the Arab nationalists” (McDowall, 2004). The nationalists managed to impose their ideological control over the state’s institutions. With the Ba’ath Party’s rise to power and its radicalization, policies of Arabization, denial of existence, and concealment of Kurdish identity were adopted \u2013 or, in more concise words: the phase of cultural genocide began, which necessitated double efforts and diverse forms of resistance to confront this genocide.<\/span><\/p>\n

Abbas Vali had spoken about how confronting the denial of Kurdish identity and resisting imposed national identities remain the primary reason for Kurdish revolutions. He identifies the “dialectic of denial and resistance” as shaping the political form and character of Kurdish nationalism. Nationalism is a policy of asserting Kurdish national identity. Even though Kurdish identity is a product of modernity, it is a “particular product of modernity” closely linked to the institutions of the modern state. Elsewhere, Vali argues for the importance of identity in the conflict the Kurds have waged for continuous decades: “The permanent suppression of Kurdish identity is the condition for the Kurds’ otherness in societies and their position as strangers in their own homeland. That the Kurds remain unrepresentable \u2013 that is the fundamental issue of the Kurds’ obsession with their identity” (Ethnicity and the State, 2006).<\/span><\/p>\n

A Growing Identity under French Mandate Policy<\/b><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

French interest in ethnic issues was built on the nature of its policy, which found difficulty in fabricating a Syrian nation, and its belief in the idea of separating the peoples emerging from the Ottoman state’s embrace, especially given its realization that the Kurds had separated from Arab-Islamic identity during the Ottoman era and that a distinct Kurdish Sufi Islam had emerged in Kurdistan. The Kurds no longer shared many cultural ties with their neighbors who had chosen defensive national identities. Thus, although Kurdish identity was largely oral, it was susceptible to re-employment and renewal, as shown by the experiences of Kurdish nationalist elites in Istanbul at the beginning of the last century. However, French knowledge of the Kurds and the societies of the region was far inferior to that of the British; no one matched Gertrude Bell, T.E. Lawrence, and Mark Sykes (Gorgas, 2013). This shortcoming led the French to rethink the ethnographic map of the Levant. Hence, we witness the High Commission’s support for the Kurdish national movement through the French Institute in Damascus, represented by Captain Robert Montagne. Thus, from 1922 onwards, interest in Kurdology (the science of Kurdistan) directed at Westerners emerged, and exceptional names sympathetic to the Kurds appeared, such as Pierre Rondot, Roger Lescot, and Thomas Bois. Joint works and scientific discussions on Kurdish identity began to take various forms, in addition to financial support for Kurdish cultural activities.<\/span><\/p>\n

France introduced issues of ethnic and religious diversity into its Syrian calculations. For this reason, the High Commission hesitated regarding the future of Kurdish areas, and intersections of Franco-Kurdish interests emerged. Conversely, the mandate authorities tried to ease tensions with the Turkish side at the expense of the Kurds. However, within this French vacillation, the growth of Kurdish identity escalated. Despite the fragmentation witnessed by the Khoybun movement and its internal disputes, Kurdish identity emerged as an act distinct from Turkish identity first, and then Arab identity later. The educated Kurdish elite, coming from the late Ottoman milieu, worked to link cultural identity with political aspirations. Thus began the phase of modernizing identity and demands for Kurdish language education through petitions submitted to the mandate authorities. Hence, 1928 saw a submission bearing the signature of Khoybun demanding the opening of schools to teach Kurdish, followed by other petitions calling for the use of Kurdish as an official language in government offices in areas inhabited by Kurds.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>Among the paradoxes of the French mandate is that it opened the door for the Kurdish language in the district of Jarabulus in 1922, not in the Jazira region, which had not yet joined Syria at that time but was under mandate authority, nor in Kurd Dagh (Afrin) with its deep-rooted historical Kurdish presence, but rather in an area that entered the political calculations of the mandate authority. With the separation of Jarabulus from the sanjaks of Deir ez-Zor and Aleppo and making it an independent district, Kurdish, Arabic, and Turkish were considered “languages on an equal footing, and public employees were required to master them” (Barout, 2013). Education in the district was to be in Arabic, Kurdish, and Turkish. Thus, recognition of Kurdish as an official language in education was the first matter concerning Kurds to appear in a French legal and official document. Conversely, despite the Kurdish majority in Kurd Dagh, the French authorities’ refusal to recognize Kurdish as an official language or a language of instruction alongside Arabic and Turkish indicates their unwillingness to provoke the Turks in areas close to the Sanjak of Alexandretta.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kamiran Bedirkhan had revolutionary ideas regarding Kurdish language education. He proposed to the High Commission the opening of a Kurdish boarding school in the Jazira. To cover the school’s expenses and create something akin to a “national monastery,” he proposed establishing a farm of five thousand donums and a Kurdish village of fifty houses, while students would be the sons of tribal chiefs, notables, and other social classes (Gorgas, 2013). The model proposed by Bedirkhan perhaps imitates the pattern of boarding schools introduced by the Dominican fathers in Syria, or even the Tribal School in Istanbul during the time of Sultan Abdul Hamid II, which aimed to generate a new Ottoman identity. However, the actual goal of the project was to “raise a national elite.” Later, Kamiran requested the construction of a primary teachers’ house in Al-Hasakah to generalize education in Kurdish as much as possible.<\/span><\/p>\n

Alongside Bedirkhan, Khoybun member Mamdouh Selim Vanli assumed the position of education inspector in the Jazira in 1930. Kurds were then appointed in schools, and facilities were provided alongside the Dominican fathers for the Kurdish elite who sent their demands to the High Commission. However, the Syrian government dismissed Selim from his post, which constituted a “loss for the Kurdish-Dominican alliance.”<\/span><\/p>\n

For over two decades of Franco-Kurdish relations, the Kurdish cultural elite with declared political orientations succeeded in reshaping Kurdish identity and saving what could be saved from the effects of the cultural genocide occurring in Turkey. However, the arrival of nationalists to power in Damascus increased the burden on Kurdish cultural figures. To Turkish objections was added internal opposition that hampered the development of Kurdish identity from 1936 onwards, pushing the elites to focus on publications, radio, clubs, and the success of the Latinization project (writing in Latin script), and reintegrating Kurds into world events, especially during the World War II years, by highlighting war facts, communicating with international powers, and courting their goodwill and interests.<\/span><\/p>\n

The projects for Kurdish language education, demanding the opening of schools, and developing visions for a new, unified language in mandate Syria were not disconnected from what happened in Istanbul with the establishment of the Kurdish Society for Cooperation and Progress (K\u00fcrt Teav\u00fcn ve Terakki Cemiyeti, 1908-1909), founded a year after the Unionist coup against Abdul Hamid II. The society linked the manifestations of civilization to establishing schools and publishing periodicals. Opening schools in Kurdistan, recognizing the Kurdish language, and allowing the publication of newspapers and magazines were among the most important goals the society worked towards (Jawan, 2012). By examining the founding names of the Society for Cooperation and Progress, one can find a family link for the project’s bearers later brought to Syria. Among the founders, we note the name of Emin Ali Bedirkhan, father of Celadet, Kamiran, and Suraya.<\/span><\/p>\n

Kurdish Writing, Newspapers, and Clubs Grow in Syria<\/b><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

“Newspapers and magazines alone are worthy and respectable in the age of modernity. In contrast, the era of hymns has passed” \u2013 Kurdish poet Subhi Qadri Koyi, 1890.<\/span><\/p>\n

Following his placement under house arrest and the failure of the A\u011fr\u0131 uprising, a phase of “defense by the pen” began for Celadet Bedirkhan. After the linguistic reform attempts made by Ismail Haqi Baban for Kurdish writing using the Arabic script, and Abd al-Razzaq Bedirkhan’s attempts to write Kurdish using Cyrillic letters (Russian and Slavic letters), Yusuf Wahbi Bey in southern Kurdistan strived for the adoption of Latin script for Kurdish writing from 1929 onward, with the publication of his book on Kurdish grammar. Wahbi had ijtihadat (independent legal reasoning) regarding cultural modernization, as his main preoccupation became after publishing his article “How Do We Write Our Kurdish Language?” in 1924 (Al-Takhi: Faiq Muhammad Husayn). Meanwhile, the Bedirkhan brothers believed that unifying the language required unifying the form of writing. The shared desire drove Wahbi and the Bedirkhan brothers to work together. The Bedirkhanis waited for Yusuf Wahbi’s arrival in Damascus for several months to announce their joint project and launch the new alphabet, but ultimately Wahbi did not make the anticipated meeting, forcing them to announce the results of their work in 1931.<\/span><\/p>\n

Latinization marked the beginning of the rupture with Arabic script for Kurmanji speakers. In contrast, despite the growing cultural situation in southern Kurdistan for Sorani speakers and the “legislation of the Kurdish language in the 1920s and allowing its introduction into primary education,” the Iraqi government refused to adopt Latin script and thus retain the Arabic alphabet with improvements made to it. Perhaps opponents of Latinization saw that such a project could create a new rupture with Arab Iraq, making the Arabic letter a thread capable of mending the nascent Iraqi entity, divided between two nations (Arab and Kurdish). Here lies another paradox experienced by Kurdish identity: in contrast to the ban on the Latin alphabet in Iraq, Turkey banned the Arabic alphabet, while Syrian Kurds enjoyed the ability to experiment, attempt to modernize the language and its written form, and adopt the standard language \u2013 that is, moving from multiple dialects to the foundational rules of the standard language (fu\u1e63\u1e25\u0101).<\/span><\/p>\n

It was difficult for Kurdish elites to seek official recognition of the Kurdish language, as it was a matter sensitive to both the French and the National Bloc, whose role grew after 1936. For this reason, the Bedirkhan brothers relied on individual work to overcome obstacles. Every learner of Kurdish had to act as a teacher for others. Furthermore, there needed to be family effort, particularly from women, the “mothers of the nation” (Tejel, 2021). Reliance on the family and the mother’s role contributes to the process of preserving language, memory, and identity, and could form the link between the ultimate goal \u2013 recognition of the Kurdish language \u2013 and learners of Kurdish. Hence, the Bedirkhanis’ appeals to “Kurdish mothers” can be understood in this context, as their efforts would alleviate activists’ teaching burden if oral language disappeared from the tongues of Kurds.<\/span><\/p>\n

Contributing to visions for a standard Kurdish language and Latinization launched a project with a more far-reaching impact than oral transmission and political organization. Moreover, the failure of the A\u011fr\u0131 uprising cast its shadow on the exiled elite in Damascus, leading them to rely on cultural depth in mobilization and strengthening the position of Kurdish identity in the post-Ottoman Empire world.<\/span><\/p>\n

The Latin letters were tested in the newspapers and magazines issued by the Bedirkhan brothers. The Bedirkhan brothers’ newspapers, starting with *Hawar* (“The Call,” 1932-1943), represented the most prominent features of cultural modernity and a tool for generalizing the new Kurdish alphabet. They undertook the publication of classical literature, modern lyrical and nationalistic poetry by young poets including Cegerxw\u00een, Qedri Can, and Kamiran Bedirkhan, in addition to prose, theater, opinion articles, and folklore topics. The booklets produced by the “Hawar Library” reached 17 booklets (Gorgas, 2013). Similarly, *Ronah\u00ee* (“The Light,” 1942-1945) focused on world news and World War II. Likewise, the magazine *Roj\u00ee N\u00fb* (“The New Day,” 1945) published materials similar to those published by *Hawar*, while *St\u00ear* (“The Star”) became the magazine’s illustrated supplement.<\/span><\/p>\n

Alongside language renewal and the pursuit of its unification, alongside newspapers, magazines, and the role of the Eastern Radio station from Beirut (1941) in nourishing Kurdish culture and resisting policies of denial and cultural genocide in Turkey, comes the role of Kurdish clubs and associations founded by the exiled national elites after the failures of the Sheikh Said and Azad\u00ee Revolution of 1925 and the Ararat\/A\u011fr\u0131 Revolution of 1931, in an effort to reassemble the Kurdish people within socio-cultural-political circles. The expansion in building clubs and associations can be described as branches of the mother association, Khoybun. Those affiliated with it would play roles in establishing new clubs and associations during the mandate period. Subsequently, the two key figures, Osman Sabri and Nur al-Din Zaza, would have their role in founding and sponsoring many organizations before becoming the most important figures during the founding of the Kurdish Democratic Party in 1957.<\/span><\/p>\n

The Cold Cultural Era (1946-1957)<\/b><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

Kurdish cultural activity was no longer as it had been after the departure of French forces from Syria. The phase that made Syria a laboratory for matters of Kurdish identity differentiation from other national identities in the region came to an end. Work on the paths of standard language, culture, folklore, journalism, and the establishment of clubs and associations was largely disrupted. It can be said that conditions stabilized around what had been produced during the mandate period. Military coups reinforced the dangers of activists engaging in Kurdish cultural and linguistic affairs. However, after the dictatorship of Adib al-Shishakli (1951-1954), Kurdish activists benefited from the end of that era and the spread of a state of general freedoms in Syria. Osman Sabri and Roshan Bedirkhan founded the Association for the Revival of Kurdish Culture in Damascus in 1955, with the primary goal of teaching the Latin alphabet (Tejel, 2021), meaning that the generation that had worked on language issues in the 1930s continued its work under more difficult conditions. Despite the state of “openness,” harassment persisted. In 1955, “Alphabet” books by Osman Sabri were confiscated and not returned to him despite his appeal to the head of state.<\/span><\/p>\n

In 1957, with the founding of the Syrian Kurdish Democratic Party, the newspaper *Deng\u00ee Kurd* (“Voice of the Kurds”) was published in Latin script, meaning that the Kurdish language emerged from the private space activists had worked in to the general Kurdish public sphere. This reflected the validity of making Kurdish the language of politics concerning the generality of Syrian Kurds, which required efforts to “eradicate illiteracy” among tens of thousands of Syrian Kurds unable to learn their language in a school setting. However, this phase was not long-lasting, as it would be cut short by the period of Syrian-Egyptian union during the United Arab Republic in 1958.<\/span><\/p>\n

Nationalists Confronting Kurdish Nationalism<\/b><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

The years of Syrian-Egyptian unity (1958-1960) were harsh on cultural activists and the Syrian Kurdish party. Proposals submitted directly by spokespersons for Syria’s Kurds to the federal president, Gamal Abdel Nasser, were rejected. Demands calling for teaching Kurdish and broadcasting Kurdish via Radio Damascus were met with refusal. During the period preceding the call to grant Kurdish the opportunity for radio broadcast, the Kurdish ear had caught via the airwaves news and Kurdish music broadcast from the radio stations of Yerevan, Baghdad, Cairo, and previously Beirut, prompting Kurdish activists to demand a Syrian edition of those broadcasts.<\/span><\/p>\n

During the wave of arrests that sent thousands of supporters and members of the Syrian Kurdish party to the dungeons of the “United Arab Republic’s” prisons, the vision of the party’s head, Nur al-Din Zaza, emerged through the plea he presented to the president of the State Security Court on December 31, 1960. He described what Kurds were subjected to as “incidents of discrimination and racial discrimination.” In describing the Kurds, he stressed that the Kurds are “a people with their own language, customs, and traditions. They are zealous about this language, customs, and traditions and have preserved their components of song, poetry, and music, which are no less magnificent than any neighboring language.” Zaza repeated the status and importance of the Kurdish language in the preamble of his plea, stating that it (the language) “has not been lost,” and that the Kurdish language “has never been a source of division and disagreement between the Arab and Kurdish peoples.” He also called for its preservation and development. Returning to the plea, the Kurdish language takes a central place in the discourse of the head of the Kurdish party and is raised to the level of the primary demand. Although he pleaded for recognition and development of the Kurdish language, he did not overlook the nature of the Kurdish people who are “driven to satisfy that natural desire by all possible means and methods.” Alongside language, Zaza did not overlook mentioning three facts that would later form the core of chauvinistic Ba’athist policies: 1) Changing the names of cities and villages from Kurdish to Arabic. 2) Preventing and insulting Kurds who seek to register their newborns with Kurdish names. 3) The insult by the director of Al-Darbasiyah district to a Kurdish citizen for donning a Kurdish turban and threatening him if he continued to wear it (Zaza: Mirani).<\/span><\/p>\n

Emerging from Zaza’s plea (his testimony on his era) is the extent of repression suffered by Kurdish activists, the confiscation of their Kurdish books, as in the case of confiscating the poetry collections of the poet Cegerxw\u00een, and the punishment of others for possessing Kurdish books (the case of Abd al-Majid Hajjo) or merely due to “intelligence” that a certain person possessed Kurdish books (the case of Hamza Nuwayran, one of the founders of the first Kurdish party).<\/span><\/p>\n

Printing of Kurdish works declined during the era of nationalist rule in three periods: the United Arab Republic, the Secession, and the Ba’athists. During the years 1960\u20131980, only three books were printed in the Kurdish language, printed in Beirut and distributed secretly in Syria. In the field of cultural periodicals, the magazine *Kulstan* (issued by poet Cegerxw\u00een in 1968) and the magazine *Klav\u00eej* (1979) operated under extremely difficult conditions (Tejel, 2021). The first decades of nationalist rule hardly indicate any phase of openness or response to the demands of activists and politicians calling for the lifting of the ban on Kurdish language and culture.<\/span><\/p>\n

During the 1990s, the Kurdish scene witnessed what Jordi Tejel calls a cultural “awakening.” In contrast to 3 books published during the 1970s and 1980s, 111 books were printed in the 1990s, according to Tejel citing Malmisanij. Thanks to learning Kurdish in secret, the 1990s witnessed a self-generated renaissance for Syria’s Kurds through expansion in the field of publishing literature, periodicals, and newspapers in Kurdish. With the entry of the internet into Syria at the turn of the millennium, the number of those working in the Kurdish linguistic field grew, and writings in Kurdish flourished. Despite the state of repression and insistence on liquidating Kurdish identity, the Ba’ath regime could no longer halt this Kurdish resurgence.<\/span><\/p>\n

Those working on restoring the features of Kurdish identity, which had developed in the 1930s, suffered greatly from the policies of denial and cultural genocide and the punishment of those working in Kurdish culture. The Ba’ath era was the worst in terms of measures against the growth of Kurdish culture and attempts to contain it. Decrees and decisions were issued banning speaking Kurdish, calling for changing the names of Kurdish cities and villages and replacing them with Arabic ones. The same applied to the names of commercial shops. At specific periods, naming newborns with Kurdish names was banned, as was Kurdish singing and music, in addition to harassing folklore troupes during Newroz (Nowruz) by torturing those working in theater, poetry, oratory, and folk dance (for further details, refer to the article: “A Brief History of Harm,” published on the Kurdish Center for Studies, January 15, 2024).<\/span><\/p>\n

Most of the Kurdish millennium generation (Generation Z) do not mention the extent of suffering endured by Kurdish elites and activists in the fields of language, publishing, and Kurdish culture and folklore. After 2012, the Kurdish scene witnessed much change and a broad rejection of the instruments of cultural genocide. Kurdish identity began to grow in the shadow of the Autonomous Administration and institutions for protecting and developing language, radio stations, and television, and thanks to the spread of periodicals, articles, educational books, and semi-official teaching in Kurdish, as well as the roles played by independent activists. Consequently, the insistence on protecting the linguistic\/cultural and even educational path in Kurdish, as advocated by successive generations since the 1930s, has become a demand that no repressive machine can overlook or disregard as the dearest and most urgent demand of Syria’s Kurds.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Sources<\/b><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

– Amal Al-Sabaki: The Political History of Iran Between Two Revolutions, Alam Al-Ma’rifah, Kuwait, 1999<\/span><\/p>\n

– Faleh Abdul Jabbar, Hashim Daoud, and a group of authors: Ethnicity and the State, Institute for Strategic Studies, Baghdad-Beirut, 2006<\/span><\/p>\n

– Jordi Gorgas: The Turkish Kurdish Movement in Exile, translation: George Al-Batal, Dar Al-Farabi\/Aras, Beirut-Erbil, 2013<\/span><\/p>\n

– David McDowall: A Modern History of the Kurds, translation: Raj Aal Muhammad, Dar Al-Farabi, Beirut, 2004<\/span><\/p>\n

– Muhammad Jamal Barout: The Modern Historical Formation of the Syrian Jazira, Arab Center for Research and Policy Studies, Beirut, 2013<\/span><\/p>\n

– Jawan Hussein Faizullah Al-Jaf: The Kurds and Their Role in the Society of Union and Progress, Dar Al-Zaman, 2012<\/span><\/p>\n

– Jordi Tejel (Gorgas): Syria’s Kurds: History, Politics and Society, translation: Muhammad Shamdin, Dar Al-Zaman, 2021<\/span><\/p>\n

– Faiq Muhammad Husayn: Iraqi Lighthouses\u2026 Tawfiq Wahbi: Kurdish Politician, Military Man, Writer, and Researcher, Al-Takhi newspaper:\u00a0https:\/\/2u.pw\/jplOer<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

– Memorandum of the Head of the Kurdish Democratic Party in Syria, Dr. Nur al-Din Zaza, to the Supreme Military State Security Court in Damascus:\u00a0https:\/\/2u.pw\/6skfHH<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

– Shoresh Darwish: Syria’s Kurds: A Brief History of Harm, Kurdish Center for Studies:\u00a0https:\/\/2u.pw\/ZME0A6<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This paper attempts to monitor Kurdish efforts to survive “cultural genocide” and confront it through the roles played by Kurdish elites and activists over more than one hundred years. Although cultural genocide has entered the lexicon of political literature in the post-Holocaust world and the reconsideration of the physical genocides suffered by entire peoples, the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":266,"featured_media":14470,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_crdt_document":"","jnews-multi-image_gallery":[],"jnews_single_post":[],"jnews_primary_category":[],"jnews_social_meta":[],"jnews_override_counter":[],"jnews_post_split":[],"footnotes":""},"categories":[16,61],"tags":[345,1167,533],"ppma_author":[506],"class_list":["post-14469","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-analysis","category-slider","tag-kurdish-language","tag-mustafa-kemal-ataturk","tag-treaty-of-lausanne"],"authors":[{"term_id":506,"user_id":266,"is_guest":0,"slug":"shoresh-darwish","display_name":"Shoresh Darwish","avatar_url":{"url":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/06\/Shoresh-3.jpg","url2x":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/06\/Shoresh-3.jpg"},"0":null,"1":"","2":"","3":"","4":"","5":"","6":"","7":"","8":""}],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14469","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/266"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14469"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14469\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14472,"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14469\/revisions\/14472"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14470"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14469"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14469"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14469"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nlka.net\/eng\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ppma_author?post=14469"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}