The BERSIH March

I went for the BERSIH march yesterday – it was quite an experience! It was like watching an American action film in 3D and with surround sound, except that I was ‘on the set’ and part of the unfolding drama. Helicopters thudded overheard, scores of policemen lined the streets, and imposing red trucks with FRU personnel rolled into the scene.

My friends and I arrived at Masjid Jamek LRT station at about 1pm. We came early in case the LRTs got jammed or shut down. There were many people inside the mosque across the river. Outside, on the streets, many more were ‘loitering’ in small groups (It is hard to do anything more productive than hanging about when one is two hours early for a protest).

I was somewhat nervous, this being my first mass rally (I know, I know, but I was out of the country during reformasi… and quite depoliticized then). My friends and I were armed with umbrellas and bottles of water. I had a copy of SUARAM’s information note SUARAM Penangkapan Polis dan Anda (or, what to do if you get arrested), and Bantuan Kepada Rakan (helping your friend), which I later studied closely in case a ‘real life’ exam took place.

We walked to Burger King to meet some friends. There were police trucks on the street. In one, a policeman and policewoman took shelter from the drizzle, adjusting their hats and looking somewhat bored. I tried to identify potential protesters. Some wore yellow. Others were hanging around, not occupied with anything in particular. There was muted excitement in the air; like things were ‘gearing up’ slowly, while people pretended to be on their everyday business.

I met Edmund Bon of the Bar Council Human Rights Committee, dressed in black and ready at his post as an Observer. We chatted for awhile, speculating about what would take place. He recalled his experiences at the reformasi demonstrations – they had their hands full responding to the arrests of protesters. We were joined by others in black suits – Roger Tan, Peter Skelchy, and a couple of women lawyers (hmmm why is it I only remember the names of the guys?) – all volunteering on their free time as Pemerhati (Observer). Rajen Devaraj and Stephanie Bastian (Legal Aid Centre) were also there with us.

I was particularly pleased that the crowd was diverse. At Burger King, where we waited until the appointed time, there were older Chinese men, of my parent’s age, wearing sneakers (it did not quite fit with their overall ‘look’). There was a young Malay woman from Kelantan wearing a cheery yellow tudung, fidgeting with her yellow plastic raincoat. A group of students sat inside, fiddling with cameras. There were probably a bunch of SBs – our beloved plainclothes intelligence police – amongst the customers who were steadily munching on their burgers and chips.

The action began at about 2pm, an hour ahead of the scheduled gathering at Dataran Merdeka. A small group of uniformed men and women fell into formation. Their uniforms were maroon and black, with ‘Unit Amal Malaysia’ tattooed on their backs; the women wore tudungs. At first I thought they were RELA types, brought in to quell the crowds; but when they started marching, I found out that they were the front-line of protesters. They strode away from us, and stopped somewhere in front of the entrance of Masjid Jamek, near the Courts (it was hard to see exactly from my angle). I guessed that they were connecting with the large numbers of protesters coming out from the mosque.

The FRU trucks rolled in pass us, and then assumed their position on the far side of the crowd. There were some announcements made through loud hailers, presumably calling on the crowds to disperse. At about 2.10pm, jets of water came streaming out of the trucks at the protesters. The crowd moved away, heading towards us. The water probably contained chemicals because our eyes were smarting. I don’t know how those who were directly hit managed; our eyes were smarting, affected only by fine mists that floated in our direction. The pouring rain was a boon; it helped to wash away the chemicals.

The crowds did not disperse. Those who ran regrouped, and more protesters assembled. A few minutes later, more water was sprayed. A young Malay woman walked in my direction, clutching the hands of her drenched child. The girl, wearing a yellow shirt, was crying and shivering. They had been separated from her husband when the chemicals were sprayed.

Around that time I also saw something bizarre. A police van pulled up right in front of us. As it passed, I saw uniformed policemen sitting inside. It stopped, and emitted a young ‘mat rock’ looking Malay man (no offence, everyone) wearing a yellow, rolled up, long-sleeve shirt over a t-shirt. He got out, walked purposefully, and melted into the crowds.

Ooooo…. I thought. It was a scene from Infernal Affairs.

A few minutes later, a man came from behind us shouting expletives and acting rather mad. It was strange that he came from behind us, and walked alone. He headed towards the main crowd. ‘Ajen provokateur’, murmured some of the people near me. His behaviour certainly wasn’t ‘in line’ with the rhythm of the crowd in that place. Most of us were facing in the opposite direction, towards the main crowds, holding hushed conversations, and hypothesizing about what was happening… not shouting loudly or behaving oddly.

A few minutes later, we heard what sounded like firecrackers (or guns), and saw streams of grey smoke filling the streets. We immediately moved further away. The crowds spilled in our direction; people moving quickly to avoid the worst impact of tear gas. An old Malay man, wearing a white songkok, walking with his friend, headed towards us. He tried to soak his handkerchief with rainwater to wipe his eyes. I gave him my water bottle, and he immediately rinsed his throat.

I think there was more spraying and second round of tear gas. We had already turned the corner into Lebuh Ampang, and could not see the ‘main action’. I spoke to a couple of men wearing BERSIH t-shirts who headed in our direction. They had been split from their leader, and were not sure what to do. In the end, the crowd got fed up of waiting and started heading straight to the Istana, abandoning the earlier idea of gathering at Dataran Merdeka.

As we walked by Central Market, there was a surreal gathering of FRU personnel and police in formation, as if they were anticipating an ‘attack’ on the bridge outside Loke Yew Building. It was a scene out of a war movie. They stood in rows in full gear, facing Dataran Merdeka, and were backed up by police. Everyone was silent. It was a tense moment.

I scampered off to Central Market, wanting to stay out of trouble. I popped by the loo, and when I came out, they had moved somewhere else.

It was awesome to walk along with fellow Malaysians to the Istana. I had conversations with people I would not usually have the opportunity to speak to. It is somewhat clichéd to talk in terms of the ‘Malay, Chinese, Indian’ categories, but during this march, I had friendly encounters with people from across these identity categories.

I walked a little with a Chinese friend. When we got separated, a helpful Malay man advised me that my ‘husband’ was ‘over there’. We passed two Unit Amal Malaysia personnel grappling with a map, attempting to assist a befuddled tourist with directions. People in the crowd joked that they were now police tourists. I walked for a while with Peter from the Bar Council, who is of Indian descent, and then with a young Malay man who took shelter under my over-sized umbrella. It was a crowd of friendly strangers. I understood then, the meaning of ‘solidarity’.

When we reached the Istana, we wallowed a little in the mud. An older Malay man extended a helping hand to me so I could clamber up the slippery grass slopes. As I stood with the lawyers, I saw some of my friends from SUARAM, HAKAM, Amnesty Malaysia, Sisters in Islam, KOMAS, and Caram Asia.

Part of the crowds chanted reformasi. A few minutes later, they cheered and clapped. We guessed that the delegation representing the protesters was allowed entry, in order to present the memorandum to the Sultan. Mission accomplished. The crowds were given the instruction to dispersed, and so we did. Some went to Masjid Negara, while others went in the direction of Central Market. The crowds dissipated.

Last Note – I was really impressed with the Unit Amal, who were guiding traffic, and keeping us off the roads as much as possible. This was a highly disciplined and well-organized peaceful demonstration.

Learning points for future reference:

1. You don’t always know everything that is going on during the demonstration itself; as part of the crowd, I could only see in part, and did not know what was going on in other locations.

2. There weren’t people shouting with loud hailers narrating developments to the crowd as they unfolded. We followed along; anticipating what to do on the basis of what we could see, and on the information received through sms-es and phone conversations with friends in different locations. It is very important to keep reading the crowds and anticipating what the police and FRUs are going to do.

3. A bottle of water is very useful. In the event of tear gas, you can use it to wash your eyes and rinse your throat. Protesters also carried cloths, presumably to help with the tear gas.

4. A massive umbrella helps you to win friends!

5. An extra shirt is useful in case you get soaked. A friend of mine gave hers away to that drenched girl I mentioned earlier.

6. Go with a group of friends, and keep checking that all your members are with you all the time. It is easy to split up and get lost in the crowds; always keep them in view as much as possible, and stick with them.

7. Have a ‘security plan’. Ours was to appoint a person to whom we would report if we got arrested. Before the demonstration, we sms-ed him our full names and IC numbers. We gave him periodic reports as the events unfolded. When it was over, our group checked that everyone was accounted for, and we reported back to him to ‘close’ the event.

8. Bring a camera!!!!

Postscript:

After the event, I found out that the crowds numbered about 40,000. SUARAM reported that 34 protestors were arrested, but most released.

Other reports, with pictures:

Acid rain in Masjid Jamek, Andrew Ong, 10 November 2007

Blogs with interesting perspectives:

A Front-liner – also at Masjid Jamek and got hit hard by the tear gas

He says:

Completely immobile and covering our faces with wet cloths, we were powerless for a good 45 seconds to the gas. Initially, you feel a sting in your nose. As the pain increases, it ignites your eyeballs into blindness. As the pain mounts unbearable, tears streaming uncontrollably out of your eyes, the gas enters the pores on your face, the sensation acid to the pH. As you try and escape the gas, running literally blindly, with your skin aflame, the gas enters your lungs, constricting respiration to almost nil. Every inhalation you take is void of oxygen, and soon you will not be able to breathe. More than once the thought of death surfaced in my mind, as I moved with, not fought against the crowd to clear the area. Shazee later told me she thought she was as good as gone as well. Tear gas brings you to the edge of death, only for you to be resuscitated back into Hell.

Xpyre – A traveller from Johor

Haris Ibrahim - whose starting point was Central Market

Josh – another “rally virgin” (also see this article)

Sonia Randhawa – commenting from Melbourne, Australia

Sivin Kit – who prayed for us throughout the march