Background: During my most recent visit to Slemani, Iraqi Kurdistan in 2016, every morning began with breakfast. The table was always set with yogurt, honey, cheese, and certain kinds of bread, all lovingly prepared by my Kurdish research assistant’s mother, who insisted that I eat with the family before work began each day. We usually had lunch and dinner while working around the city. Certain dishes like dolma were always claimed as being “Kurdish,” while others such as falafel were labeled as “Arab” in origin. People operationalize their cultural preferences and expectations about food daily. Food is necessary to maintain health, but it also concretizes connections to concepts of heritage and cultural identity (Brulotte and Di Giovine 2014). Culture is dynamic and responds to external influences. Community food preferences and market availability are similarly subjected to external stimuli. Recently, large communities of Syrian Kurds and Iraqi Arabs have entered Iraqi Kurdistan, sharing space and food. These communities of internally displaced men, women, and children have also attracted the attention of numerous aid agencies who have attempted to buffer these food insecure populations with food aid. Faced with more diverse communities in Iraqi Kurdistan, this research hypothesizes that food provides an outlet through which to perform Kurdishness and solidify shared cultural domains (Mahmod 2011). Additionally, women in and around Slemani are central to their family’s food acquisition, preparation, and consumption. Thus, they can provide unique perspectives on these key aspects of Kurdish and Arab iterations of cultural heritage. Thus, my research questions are as follows: Are there culturally coherent concepts of a “Kurdish” cuisine and an “Arab” cuisine among women in eastern Iraqi Kurdistan? Do these concepts differ across rural and urban locations? Methods: Surveys were given to 100 women. Sampling included internally displaced and host women from both the Arab and Kurdish communities. Women were surveyed in the urban center of Slemani, the smaller city of Chamchamal, the village of Kan e Mel, and the internally displaced people camp of Ashti. In the survey, women were asked to write (or say) a list of all the foods they think are “Kurdish” and all those they think are “Arab”. As these data are analyzed, the relationship between cultural constructs around food is examined to contextualize future research on food aid strategies, community food security and cohesion, and community health and nutrition in Slemani, Iraqi Kurdistan.

Clothing has been one of the markers of cultural heritage worldwide, and members of some cultures are identified by their dress such as Saudi Arabians or Indians. In the construction of the modern Turkish nation-state, markers of ethnic and religious dress codes were eliminated and the society was forced to adopt Western style attires. During the “hat revolution” of 1925, the new state forbid men from wearing the ‘fez’ in public space. Gradually traditional Kurdish clothing has disappeared in the public sphere in Turkey as a consequence of that enforced modernization and westernization. Although Kurdish clothing is still worn by some communities in Turkey, compared to Kurds in Iraq, Iran, and Syria the majority of Kurds in Turkey do not wear traditional dress. After decades of long conflict between the PKK and the Turkish State, Kurdish cultural clothing markers such as keffiyeh, shal u shepik (baggy pants), and green-red-yellow scarves were seen as threats by the Turkish state which criminalized and prosecuted people for wearing these clothes. In 2015, the Anadolu news agency reported the wording from the Turkish parliament’s new security bill, “Protesters now cannot wear any clothing that depicts emblems of banned organizations; similarly no such emblems and symbols can be displayed on placards or banners. The punishment for displaying such illegal symbols is six months to three years in prison.” (AA) However, Kurds have been reclaiming Kurdish clothing which is visible in the election campaigns, on Kurdish TV, during national celebrations, and in demonstrations in Turkey. Re-claiming ethnic dress can be an important tool for constructing identity and it can be a political statement. It can also be as deadly as speaking Kurdish to wear Kurdish dress in the public sphere. For example, in Mugla province of Turkey in 2015 a Kurdish man was beaten and forced to kiss a statue of Turkish founder Ataturk for wearing ethnic Kurdish clothes. In this paper I will analyze the ways in which ethnic Kurdish dress has been reclaimed by women and men in various public spaces and venues to assert Kurdish identity.

Rebuilding the City or a Museum Left in Ruins? Mapping Heritage in Post-Displacement Reconstruction Plans for Kobani The particular circumstances precipitating cases of forced migration undoubtedly impact upon local citizens’ memories of, and future aspirations for, once familiar lived spaces. There is currently, however, relatively limited research on how personal experiences, and collective political narratives, of displacement contribute to discourses of heritage and rehabilitation in the context of post-crisis return after disaster, be it of natural or man-made cause. Fleeing the ravages of terrorist group, the Islamic State, in August 2014, the mass migration from the Syrian Kurdish region of Kobani across the international border into Turkey, and subsequent destruction of large sections of the city's infrastructure, presents an intriguing case study through which to trace the topographic markers of identity within a landscape once abandoned by almost the entire civilian population. Impossible return and months of limbo in camps and host communities in Turkey, as well as in the Kurdistan Region of Iraq for some, have meant that the physical border between the refugees and home developed a temporal dimension: dividing the geographies of pre- and post-crisis. When, following military developments, return to the region eventually became a possibility for civilians, questions of approaches and projects for reconstruction naturally arose. This paper examines the popular responses towards the plans devised by the emergent local authorities, and considers the impact of refugees and returnees in shaping public policy, as well as their initiatives to preserve and recover/(re)construct heritage, while revitalizing urban space. Most notably, the paper deals with local reactions to the 'Kobani living museum' proposal: that is the suggestion that the most devastated sections of the city, including many civilians' homes, be left un-repaired as a symbol of the townspeople's suffering. The study focuses its analysis on local expressions of criticism and movements of resistance against this project, much of which are found within debates circulating on social media. As well as giving weight to voices of affected individuals, this paper seeks to examine the discrepancies between views of everyday citizens and those of the political and military institutions that actively resisted against the affronts of the Islamic State. In this context, I examine attempts of civilians to reclaim their land and property physically, and meanwhile symbolically re-appropriating local heritage from the dominant military narratives.

The City of Kermanshan, the Site of Cultural Rebellion and Rebirth The city of Kermanshan (Persian, Kermanshah) has been the site of unique religious, cultural, geographical, and linguistic heterogeneity since antiquity. Its origins and contributions to the Kurdish and Iranian civilization are well documented often subsumed under Persian culture. In the recent century, more concerted and institutionalized efforts and campaigns have been directed at metamorphosing and misrepresenting the cultural and linguistic heritage and diversity of the city by promoting the dominant Persian language and culture at the cost of the multilingualism and multiculturalism of the city. The city has had to fight tooth and nail for the preservation of its name. Similarly linguistic survival has been a challenge for the city in the face of the hegemonic presence and influence of Persian. Against this background in recent years a counter narrative that explores and exposes the tension between the official representations and cultural construction of a Kurdish literati has engendered new dynamics for the reassertion of cultural identity and continuity. A fertile but underexamined site for the study of cultural revival and rebirth of cultural identity is the radical but “legal” production of new literary works as means of both cultural assertion and refutation of the official and dominant cultural modes and discourse. Such a revival is constituted by and constitutive of linguistically shaped and charged literary works to protect and preserve a culture that has constantly been under threat at least for the past 200 years institutionally. A survey of the current literary trends and contemporary bilingual poets and authors would reveal that this cultural campaign is laying the ground for reviving, protecting, and promoting Kurdish cultural identity in the face of past and present injustices and cultural and linguistic discriminatio

The Kurds are the largest ethnic minority group in the Middle East without a home state. Yet, they have been able to maintain their culture and identity in spite of the physical torture and the cultural assimilation policies that they have faced in nation states in which they lived. Drawing on contemporary efforts in archives, memory, trauma, and through the Kurdish Oral History Project at Binghamton University, this paper explores efforts to document narratives of Kurds who have been on the periphery of society with no agency or voice during and after repressive regimes. It also delves into their diasporic experiences, how they formulated their individual and collective identities, and their efforts in preserving their culture post conflict. Experiences of violent uprisings, wars, struggles against the imposed order, forced departures, bitter living conditions in the mountains and refugee camps, and integration into American society have intersected with a myriad of social and cultural variables. While documenting memories of their homeland, which allow for the accounts of the struggle and persecution to be heard, shared, and opened to the audience, challenges such as lack of trust from the creators, simultaneously protecting privacy and providing access, individuals’ fear of voicing their stories, and other precautions of turmoil are also examined. Lastly, this paper opens up an opportunity to discuss and evaluate archival activities: how we currently undertake creating, preserving, and documenting events – but also for whom and for what purposes? We need to share their unique culture and stories so that others can learn about who Kurds are and what they dealt with in their past, while ensuring accountability for displaying first-hand accounts and maintaining an objective perspective. Through documenting and sharing, the voices of the Kurds will be heard, and perhaps then will the true process of healing begin.