The police fired tear gas at us and even charged at us on horseback and with batons. The scars on my head and legs are medals of these badges of courage.
Yes, we carried marbles to roll towards the horses that came tumbling down. We carried wet handkerchiefs and salt to cover our faces and overcome the tear gas. We also scrambled towards the tear gas canisters to throw them back. The Berish rally in November 2007 was, relatively, a tame affair.
For Bersih 2.0, I took an early morning flight on Friday from Penang to Kuala Lumpur. I was worried that they might stop flights on Saturday.
For Bersih 2.0, I took an early morning flight on Friday from Penang to Kuala Lumpur. I was worried that they might stop flights on Saturday.
To sabotage the rally, after all, they had ordered buses to stop, trains to stop and cars banned. Barricades were erected. It was a diabolical plan to frighten the people and blame Bersih 2.0. Yet, it rebounded on them, as the people blamed the government for overreacting.
About 1.30pm, we started in Brickfields, a motley crowd of about 30. Strangely, while walking along Jalan Tun Sambathan, we saw several crowds of people walking in the direction of Stadium Negara. They were all silent, like lemmings, or as in horror movies.
However, th
e city on that day was alive. We passed several groups of police at street corners, who made no attempt to frisk or stop us.
About 1.30pm, we started in Brickfields, a motley crowd of about 30. Strangely, while walking along Jalan Tun Sambathan, we saw several crowds of people walking in the direction of Stadium Negara. They were all silent, like lemmings, or as in horror movies.
However, th
e city on that day was alive. We passed several groups of police at street corners, who made no attempt to frisk or stop us. Along Jalan Tun Perak, towards Petaling Street and Jalan Tun HS Lee, onto Jalan Maharajalela and towards Jalan Stadium, we marched until we came to a barbed-wire roadblock at the road approaching Stadium Merdeka, from the back.
Behind the barbed wire stood about two dozen Federal Reserve Unit men, and more in a truck behind them. How ironic that we were a blocked at Stadium Merdeka.
We passed Jalan Maharajalela, the road within sight of Jalan Hang Jebat and Jalan Hang Tuah, the legendary Malay warriors who paid the ultimate price in demonstration of their loyalty - one to his ruler, the other the rakyat.
That day, I wondered who the traitors were.
As we passed more and more junctions, a shock greeted us – more people came from all directions. The crowd became massive.
As I passed the junction of Jalan Tun HS Lee and Jalan Sultan, the rain greeted us, as if to bersihkan (wash away) the kotoran (dirt). What a moving sight! A group of about 10 Malays, young and old, praying on the bare pavement. The crowd comprised people of all races and ages, even women in hijab! I was in a black open coat.
As I passed, two ladies under a huge umbrella, invited me, “Uncle, come under the umbrella.” I said, “Tak pe lah, saya sudah basah.” A Malay middle-aged man took his cap off to give me to cover my bald head. I felt so connected with the spirit of the people.
At the barricade to the Stadium Merdeka, we were stopped. It was a deadlock. I was up at the front, up at the barbed wire.
Many in the crowd were openly wearing the yellow Bersih T-shirts, shouting slogans such as “Bersihkan Kekotoran!” “Hidup Malaysia!”, “Reformasi!”, “Keadilan!” and “Naik Gaji Polis!”
Johor PKR chief Chua Jui Meng spoke to the crowd, as did PSM secretary-general S Arutchelvan.
Defeat of the enemies
After a short while of speeches and slogans, the crowd turned back, dispersing. All were peaceful, well-organised, well-behaved and disciplined. At the junctions of Jalan Hang Jebat, Jalan Tun HS Lee and Jalan Petaling, huge crowds were walking back to their respective destinations. I estimate the crowd to have been 40,000-50,000, at those places alone.
The irony is that as we were dispersing, the police at Jalan Hang Tuah fired three, maybe four tear gas canisters at us, with one falling about 30 metres from me. The fumes - perhaps the attack itself - brought tears to my eyes.
Yes, t
ears for the defeat of the enemies of the people, I thought.
At the junction of Petaling Street, another two or three canisters were fired at the crowd, all unnecessary provocation as we were leaving.
One fell about 10 metres from me. I rushed towards it with my wet handkerchief, intending to throw it back, to let the police have a taste of their own medicine. Some of the gas blew back towards the police. Before I could reach the canister, two youths kicked the canister into a pool of water on the road, to douse the gas.
I still went after it. As I was about a yard away, my son Kris came and said, “Papa, what are you trying to do?” I said, “I want to throw it back.”
But by then I was overwhelmed by the gas, the tears were flowing, my lungs burning. Strangers came and gave me salt, which I swallowed. I got dizzy and sat by the road side.
About 15 minutes later, I felt better, and started to walk slowly in the direction of Puduraya. I needed to go to the toilet, but when I queried, someone told me, “Semua dikunci” (All the toilets are locked). I walked back to Jalan Tun Sambanthan, cursing the authorities, muttering to myself that anyone could be better than these morons.
As they say, 'they prefer to be destroyed by the praise of their cronies than to be saved by criticisms'.
'Thank you, BN'
Yes, the march was good; it raised the political consciousness of the ordinary people and kampung folk. You cannot be neutral in the face of injustice. It was an education in political science.
A whiff of the gas gave your brains a week of political education; a baton charge, a month of political awakening, a detention of six weeks of political awareness and a detention or more, a certificate, diploma or degree from 'University Kamunting', Taiping.
I wish police would hit everybody with batons and give them a dose of tear gas to awaken them to the theft of our rights and our country's wealth.
Thank you, BN. You gave us hard lessons that show you do not deserve our trust, support or even tolerance. Thank you. You have shown us the way forward.
Thank you also, New Straits Times and Star, for campaigning for BN and Umno. For you have awakened the people to the outright lies
Thank you, Umno, BN, judiciary and police, for waking us up to the blatant abuse of justice and the flagrant violations of the laws and on the people's rights, justice and fairness.
A salute to Bersih 2.0, whose supporters stood their ground. No permit is needed for a peaceful public gathering. This is what was established.
We passed Jalan Maharajalela, the road within sight of Jalan Hang Jebat and Jalan Hang Tuah, the legendary Malay warriors who paid the ultimate price in demonstration of their loyalty - one to his ruler, the other the rakyat.
That day, I wondered who the traitors were.
As we passed more and more junctions, a shock greeted us – more people came from all directions. The crowd became massive.
As I passed the junction of Jalan Tun HS Lee and Jalan Sultan, the rain greeted us, as if to bersihkan (wash away) the kotoran (dirt). What a moving sight! A group of about 10 Malays, young and old, praying on the bare pavement. The crowd comprised people of all races and ages, even women in hijab! I was in a black open coat.
As I passed, two ladies under a huge umbrella, invited me, “Uncle, come under the umbrella.” I said, “Tak pe lah, saya sudah basah.” A Malay middle-aged man took his cap off to give me to cover my bald head. I felt so connected with the spirit of the people.
At the barricade to the Stadium Merdeka, we were stopped. It was a deadlock. I was up at the front, up at the barbed wire. Many in the crowd were openly wearing the yellow Bersih T-shirts, shouting slogans such as “Bersihkan Kekotoran!” “Hidup Malaysia!”, “Reformasi!”, “Keadilan!” and “Naik Gaji Polis!”
Johor PKR chief Chua Jui Meng spoke to the crowd, as did PSM secretary-general S Arutchelvan.
Defeat of the enemies
After a short while of speeches and slogans, the crowd turned back, dispersing. All were peaceful, well-organised, well-behaved and disciplined. At the junctions of Jalan Hang Jebat, Jalan Tun HS Lee and Jalan Petaling, huge crowds were walking back to their respective destinations. I estimate the crowd to have been 40,000-50,000, at those places alone.
The irony is that as we were dispersing, the police at Jalan Hang Tuah fired three, maybe four tear gas canisters at us, with one falling about 30 metres from me. The fumes - perhaps the attack itself - brought tears to my eyes.
Yes, t
ears for the defeat of the enemies of the people, I thought. At the junction of Petaling Street, another two or three canisters were fired at the crowd, all unnecessary provocation as we were leaving.
One fell about 10 metres from me. I rushed towards it with my wet handkerchief, intending to throw it back, to let the police have a taste of their own medicine. Some of the gas blew back towards the police. Before I could reach the canister, two youths kicked the canister into a pool of water on the road, to douse the gas.
I still went after it. As I was about a yard away, my son Kris came and said, “Papa, what are you trying to do?” I said, “I want to throw it back.”
But by then I was overwhelmed by the gas, the tears were flowing, my lungs burning. Strangers came and gave me salt, which I swallowed. I got dizzy and sat by the road side.
About 15 minutes later, I felt better, and started to walk slowly in the direction of Puduraya. I needed to go to the toilet, but when I queried, someone told me, “Semua dikunci” (All the toilets are locked). I walked back to Jalan Tun Sambanthan, cursing the authorities, muttering to myself that anyone could be better than these morons.
As they say, 'they prefer to be destroyed by the praise of their cronies than to be saved by criticisms'.
'Thank you, BN'
Yes, the march was good; it raised the political consciousness of the ordinary people and kampung folk. You cannot be neutral in the face of injustice. It was an education in political science.
A whiff of the gas gave your brains a week of political education; a baton charge, a month of political awakening, a detention of six weeks of political awareness and a detention or more, a certificate, diploma or degree from 'University Kamunting', Taiping. I wish police would hit everybody with batons and give them a dose of tear gas to awaken them to the theft of our rights and our country's wealth.
Thank you, BN. You gave us hard lessons that show you do not deserve our trust, support or even tolerance. Thank you. You have shown us the way forward.
Thank you also, New Straits Times and Star, for campaigning for BN and Umno. For you have awakened the people to the outright lies
Thank you, Umno, BN, judiciary and police, for waking us up to the blatant abuse of justice and the flagrant violations of the laws and on the people's rights, justice and fairness.
A salute to Bersih 2.0, whose supporters stood their ground. No permit is needed for a peaceful public gathering. This is what was established.
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