Assyrian fly the Assyrian flag at the Armenian Genocide Memorial complex in Yerevan, Armenia. (Photo by ANTHONY PIZZOFERRATO/Middle East Images/AFP via Getty Images)
Ishtartv.com –newsweek.com
Nov 19, 2025
I was recently in Yerevan, Armenia, sitting among a crowd gathered for
European Heritage Days 2025 and the Day of National Minorities in Armenia.
The air was alive with color and music. On stage, the Assyrian folk group
Atour performed three traditional dances—children and teenagers dressed in
shimmering costumes, their movements rhythmic and proud. When the youngest
dancers finished, they raised the Assyrian flag high above their heads, smiling
as the audience broke into applause. It was a powerful image. Currently—where,
in parts of the Assyrian ancestral homeland, people are still harassed,
even violently attacked, for displaying that same flag—these children were
waving it freely and joyfully, in front of diplomats, and guests from across
Europe and Armenia. I caught myself holding my breath. In that moment, Armenia
felt like a rare island of safety.
As I watched them, I asked myself: How, 2,633 years after the fall of
the Assyrian empire, do Assyrians still carry their culture with such pride?
How have they managed to preserve their ancient language, their songs, their
rituals—here, far from Mesopotamia, in the small, mountainous Christian country
of Armenia? It seems almost poetic that the Assyrians—among the first people to
embrace Christianity—found refuge in the world’s first Christian country.
Armenia, a bridge between Europe and Asia, has become a home far from home for
this ancient nation.
It made me think about how closely these two nations are connected.
Armenians and Assyrians—among the world’s oldest surviving nations—share more
than geography; we share memory. Our histories have long intertwined through
faith, language and resilience. Assyrians who settled in Armenia in the 19th
century, and those who later fled persecution and genocide, found a home
here. Today, in villages like Arzni and Verin Dvin, church bells ring in
Classical Aramaic—reminders that history, when shared, becomes strength.
At the festival, I had the chance to meet some of the young Assyrian
dancers and listen to what inspires them to preserve their heritage and what
Armenia means to them. Thirteen-year-old Isahakyan Knarik shyly adjusted her
tiara before our conversation, then offered it to me for a photo. She has been
dancing for six years and proudly told me that performing Assyrian dances makes
her feel deeply connected to her roots. “Every time I represent our culture, I
feel admiration and pride. My community helps me stay close to my heritage.
Armenia is my home,” she said.
Another dancer, Eduard Yakubov, 14, spoke with the seriousness of
someone far beyond his age. While many of his peers spend weekends playing
video games, Eduard devotes his free time to rehearsing.
When I asked him why, his answer was disarmingly sincere: “Simply
because I value my culture and art much more. For me, it is far more meaningful
to keep the name of my nation’s culture alive and respected.” Eduard’s words
revealed a quiet maturity—an understanding that cultural preservation is not an
abstract idea but a personal mission. “When I represent my culture,” he said,
“I feel indescribable emotions. What brings me joy is not buying a new
smartphone or branded items, but preserving and developing my culture. Armenia
is my land, my homeland—my everything. I feel completely free and very proud
here.”
Later, I met Aharon Mirzoev, 21, a medical student who also works to
support his family yet remains an active member of the community’s cultural
life. He smiled when I asked how he manages to balance it all.
“I’ve been involved in Assyrian dance since childhood—since I was 6 or
7,” he said. “I feel a deep responsibility to preserve and pass on my faith,
cultural values, and traditions to future generations.” For Aharon, this sense
of duty is rooted in identity itself. “When I represent Assyrian culture, I
feel like a small but significant part of a great mechanism, where every piece
has its own purpose. My role may be small, but it is essential—because the goal
is the same: the preservation of the Assyrian nation and the spread of our
language, faith and culture around the world.” When I asked if he considered
Armenia his home, his answer came without hesitation: “Armenia is my
birthplace, and I proudly consider it my homeland. It is an inseparable part of
my soul, and despite all the challenges and hardships, I cannot imagine myself
without Armenia.”
Dr. Anzhela Mnatsakanyan is pictured wearing traditional Assyrian clothing. (Photo Courtesy of Dr. Anzhela Mnatsakanyan)
Eduard Yakubov, 14, is pictured wearing traditional Assyrian clothing. (Photo Courtesy of Dr. Anzhela Mnatsakanyan)
Aharon Mirzoev, 21, is pictured wearing traditional Assyrian clothing. (Photo Courtesy of Dr. Anzhela Mnatsakanyan)
Isahakyan Knarik, 13, is pictured wearing traditional Assyrian clothing. (Photo Courtesy of Dr. Anzhela Mnatsakanyan)
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