“I know my eyes look tired, but it’s a small price to pay for this important work.” Those are the words of 59-year-old Aydin Bet-Naqshe (Aslan), an independent researcher, as he sat down with the Post to talk about his peculiar obsession of the past few years.
A resident of Brussels, Belgium, since his teenage years, Bet-Naqshe has spent most evenings over the past few years reading and translating an Assyrian literary heritage long forgotten. Through his meticulous efforts, thousands of pages of old Assyrian newspapers published more than one hundred years ago are slowly being made available anew.
Beginning in the late 19th century and continuing well into the first half of the 20th century, different Assyrian intellectuals from the western part of the Assyrian homeland established several newspapers to influence and shape Assyrian public opinion, share community news, and debate issues affecting the nation. Most of these papers were written in what is known as Garshuni, Ottoman Turkish written with Assyrian letters, making them incomprehensible to most people today. But thanks to Aydin Bet-Naqshe’s tireless efforts, this trove of Assyrian heritage is now being made available again, albeit only to Turkish readers for now. He is one of the few Assyrians who is well-versed in Ottoman Turkish and able to translate the papers into modern Turkish.
One such newspaper that Bet-Naqshe has finished translating was called Intibah in Ottoman Turkish and Cirutho (Awakening) in Assyrian and was issued between 1909 and 1915, with the subtitle “Assyrian’s Monthly Newspaper”. It is believed to be the first Assyrian newspaper to be founded in the diaspora. Its founder and editor, Gabriel Hanna Boyajy (often known as Jabbūr Boyajy), was only 19 when he left his hometown of Omid (Diyarbakir) for the US in 1899, joining a small but growing Assyrian community in Springfield, New Jersey.

It was Boyajy’s close friendship with Naum Palak Faiq, one of the most well-known Assyrian national figures, who had already established his own newspaper in Omid, that prompted Boyajy to launch Intibah.
“Naum would write to Gabriel Hanna Boyajy, asking him why the Assyrian-American diaspora was so quiet and urging him to launch a newspaper so other Assyrians would get to know about their issues in their new homeland. Naum was behind many such initiatives; he inspired people around him to be active and get things done,” explains Bet-Naqshe.
After trying his hand at a first issue and receiving praise and positive response from people around him, Boyajy became both encouraged and convinced that an Assyrian-American newspaper was a worthy cause and a necessity, so he pressed on despite working full-time in a factory himself. He wrote the magazine by hand and used a mimeograph machine, a low-cost duplicating device that presses ink through a stencil to make multiple copies of a document.
“Through correspondence, we can see that Boyajy and Faiq discussed finding a suitable name for the magazine, eventually settling on Intibah, an Arabic loanword in Ottoman Turkish meaning awakening or becoming aware, and its Assyrian equivalent, Cirutho. Intibah was also the name of the Assyrian association Faiq had established in 1908 in Omid, which became official in 1910 through its first congress held in Omid,” explains Aydin.
Faiq himself immigrated to the United States and settled in New Jersey in 1912. He became a regular contributor to Gabriel’s Intibah until it closed in 1915, mostly believed to be due to lack of funding.
When a fellow Assyrian, Nasif Hanna Qirmizi of Mardin arrived in New York City in 1911, Gabriel Boyajy welcomed him. Qirmizi later gave a description of how Gabriel worked: He showed me how he edits and prepares the newspaper. In addition to his daily work, you find him spending all evening composing and editing the newspaper with no one to help him except a red electric lantern.
Qirmizi began contributing to Intibah himself and in one editorial from 1911 he asks the readers to support the newspaper as the subscriptions do not cover the expenses. Qirmizi wrote that Boyajy himself pays for the rest.

Gabriel Hanna Boyajy died in 1969 in New Jersey, leaving behind a written legacy that remained mostly unknown and unexplored. He had managed to produce 57 issues of his magazine from 1909 to 1915.
Today, more than one hundred years after the last issue of Intibah, Aydin Bet-Naqshe has translated all 57 issues into modern Turkish, recently published as a book by a Turkish publisher in August 2026. Titled Amerika’da Yayımlanan Süryanice Harfli Türkçe İntibah Gazetesi, the book contains around 2.5 million words, and took Bet-Naqshe three years to complete.
“I have carefully translated each word from Ottoman Turkish to standard Turkish and, in many instances, also adapted the language to modern Turkish. The difference between Ottoman Turkish and today’s Turkish is considerable. A Turkish speaker would not be able to understand Ottoman Turkish without training,” he explains.
The meticulous translation has left a lasting impression on Bet-Naqshe and deepened his appreciation for a man who has so far remained largely unknown to today’s Assyrians: “When reading the issues, you encounter a highly intellectual and knowledgeable person. I had not imagined Boyajy to be of this caliber,” he says.
Aydin Bet-Naqshe’s journey into this treasure trove has led him to discover other forgotten Assyrians who played important roles. While many Assyrians only know of the most well-known national figures like Naum Palak Faik, Ashur Yousef, and Freydun Bet-Abram (Atturaya), the lack of knowledge about modern Assyrian history has obscured the memory of many more impressive figures worthy of praise and remembrance.
“Boyajy was of course one but there were several others, like for example George Koyun from Elaziz; Bashar Hulmi Buruci, founder of the Shifuro magazine and a very intellectual figure; Hanna Qerme from Hama in Syria; George Mardinli; Abdulmesih Dertli; Said Asfar; Bedri Samuel; Belshasar Eskandar; Elias Yaso; Gergis Alajaji, who was an impressive intellectual who also became the vali of Bitlis.”
As of today, Bet-Naqshe has completed extensive translations of the following newspapers and magazines: Kawkab Madenho — Volumes 1 and 2; Sanharip Bali; Adana Orphanage; Millet Fedekar; Şifuro; Hayat; Qolo d-Suryoye; Huyodo; New Assyria (partially); Leşono d-Umtho (partially); Mürşidi Âsûrîyun (partially); İntibah; Bet-Nahrin (translated but not yet published).
His countless hours of translating these old newspapers have convinced him that they offer a unique window into our modern history as a nation: “They are a national treasure that should be of interest to any Assyrian who wants to understand our past and our future,” he says.
What he has come to realize after translating so many of these precious Assyrian magazines is that we as a nation remain stuck in the same issues now as Boyaci and his contemporaries were: "While the different church denominations were the main cause of debate and division back then, the same fundamental discussion has taken on a more semantic dimension in our time, with the different names being used.”

Another, more subtle pattern that Bet-Naqshe has recognized is the devouring role the church has had and its strategy of taking advantage of the divisions.
“One can follow how, wherever the church establishes itself, it slowly devours the political and civic associations,” he says, and gives an example: “In the early Assyrian diaspora in the US, they had established the diaspora branch of the Assyrian Intibah organization, with seven very active local associations, some of them even acquiring their own buildings. Later on, another organization, Asuri Milleti Cemceyti, was also established in the US. But as the church gained a firmer foothold in the diaspora, all these associations died out and all the resources were slowly redirected to the church. I’m not criticizing the church; it’s just an observation I have made from diving so deeply into the community developments of that time.”
Another aspect he has noticed is the fact that Assyrian writing was not limited to religious texts; on the contrary, it shed light on the political, social, and cultural issues of its time: “To bring these works to light today is both an act of respect to the past and a powerful legacy left for the future,” he says, looking at the cover of his book.
He explains he has taken it upon himself to translate everything he can find that Assyrians wrote in Garshuni. Asked about his driving force behind the countless hours he has poured into the translations as a business owner and a family man with limited time, he stops for a while and then says:
“Boyajy was working in a factory for long hours per day and still found time and energy to issue this paper, which was a much more arduous endeavor back then. If he could do that for his nation, why can’t I?”
In one issue, Boyajy lamented, “I know that only a handful of my fellow Assyrians will read this magazine. But I am not doing it solely for them, but also for the Assyrians one hundred years from now who will ask about their background.” His foresight led him to send copies of the paper to the public library in New York for archiving.
That self-sacrifice has had a profound effect on Bet-Naqshe. “If they hadn’t sacrificed to write, we would be completely oblivious to what transpired back then. In the same way, if I don’t sacrifice today, no one will know about their sacrifices and what Assyrians have been through.”
Eventually, Bet-Naqshe is looking to write down the history of his ancestral village of Zaz in Tur Abdin, an ancient settlement believed to be attested already in Assyrian imperial archives under the name of Zazabuka. Unlike the translations he has been focused on so far, this book will be a novel contribution to Assyrian literary heritage. But for now, the focus remains on the many old magazines yet to be translated and republished.
“This work is not just a translation project; it is an effort to make heard once again the voice of a memory, a people, and a civilization, and I will continue until the end,” Aydin Bet-Naqshe says confidently, holding his newly printed book close to his chest.
What is Garshuni?
Garshuni is a type of writing that emerged from writing languages such as Turkish, Arabic, or Persian using the Assyrian alphabet. This writing method appeared as a practical solution developed especially during periods when Assyrians could not preserve their own native language.
As Assyria came under the rule of various states and authoritarian regimes, the political environment largely prevented Assyrians from conducting educational and publishing activities in their mother tongue.
As a result, dominant languages such as Arabic, Ottoman Turkish, and Persian became prevalent in daily life; Assyrian, especially in urban centers, turned into a church language used mostly in religious rituals and among the clergy. In rural areas, Assyrians survived to a limited extent.
Despite this cultural and linguistic decline, Assyrians maintained their attachment to their own alphabet; by writing Arabic or Turkish texts in Assyrian letters, it preserved both intelligibility and its writing tradition. This method was particularly preferred by church circles, educated groups, and some local media outlets.
