Focus Focus: Behind The Tear Gas

"Fahmi, you better not go, OK?" pleads my mum. But how could I not? It was going to be the first major rally in over a decade since Anwar Ibrahim's sacking. Witnessing those Reformasi demos was one of the main reasons why I decided to work in the arts despite my chemical engineering degree. That time taught that expression is the bedrock upon which a democracy can exist, survive, and thrive. And seeing what happened to Anwar, I understood that if the establishment could do what they did to an ex-DPM, imagine the things they could and were already doing to me.

So, despite the maternal requests and the deliberate displays of bogey-isms (increased police presence on roads leading into KL, images of street protest violence on heavy TV rotation, clear threats of arrest by the State), I'd made up my mind: I was definitely going to be there. As citizens in a democratic nation, we have a right to express ourselves. And that day I intended to exercise that right, because I felt a need to support the call for a clean election. But since the government has deemed freedom of expression a subversive act, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

Friday night, 9 November, proved unsettling. Already news reports carried clearer pronouncements by the State, including from the Prime Minister himself, that the gathering would not be allowed to proceed. Members of his cabinet spoke in turn about how there was no need for the public to act in this fashion, that it was an opposition gimmick in the lead up to elections. SMSes were flying about with rumours of LRT stations shutting down (three were eventually closed) and alternative gathering points were already sent out, with notes about following directions from organizers.

After attending an event at the Annexe at Central Market, I managed to take a quick glimpse at the roads around Dataran Merdeka that Friday evening: police had already cordoned off the square, and road blocks had slowed traffic down to a trickle (this would prove to be a great undoing by the State).

Come the tenth, I was locked down in a class in Sunway until nearly three, and the whole day I had been receiving SMS updates from friends in the field: "FRU set up along masjid jamek", "dey r using water cannons n tear gas now, playing cat n mouse with protestors", "their bomoh is really good. it's pouring like mad." I took a look outside the class, and true enough, the clouds had rallied above us even this far afield: a public display of supernatural powers, or at least an indication that nature was on the demonstrators' side – one would believe the downpour helped reduce the sting of the chemicals. Maybe some had hoped the storms would deter the marchers?

Several editor friends told me that they were given strict orders not to carry reports on the event at all, yet as I made my way downtown, I was rather surprised to hear on the radio a full report, not on the rally, but about the massive traffic jams that had paralysed KL. It was a call made directly from Federal Highway, and the reporter said "There were 10,000 to 20,000 people marching towards Istana Negara, many wearing yellow with the word BERSIH." A brief pause, and then she continued. "But I don't know what this BERSIH is about." Nice disclaimer, lady.

By the time I got there, it was still drizzling, and the memorandum had already been handed over. The organisers' cards were pushed, and so they played it through to the end. I didn't witness a single incident of violence. I walked with what seemed like several thousands of people towards Masjid Negara, which was completely boarded up. There, the organisers immediately asked us to disperse. I proceeded to meet some friends for coffee. An anti-climax perhaps for the spirit of solidarity that afternoon, but a triumph for democracy.

And yet what was the whole shebang all about, actually? It was merely to hand over a memorandum on the problems of an ineffective and unfair electoral system to the Yang Di-Pertuan Agong, and a request for His Majesty to intervene on the issue on behalf of his subjects.

The days that followed saw such a fascinating yet surreal congruence of denial, blame, name-calling, and abject misinformation from State apparatchiks. It was incredible to see how they demonised the whole incident. What country do they live in? As for me, the Malaysia I know still has a bit of fight in it.

TEXT Fahmi Fadzil
PHOTO Danny Lim