Burma: a journalist's report

Last Modified: 26 Sep 2007
By: Channel 4 News

A journalist has filed this eye-witness report from Rangoon tonight for Channel 4 News.

Since the curfew was imposed there has barely been a car on the streets. Soldiers have taken up positions around the pagodas and other key public installations. You could see some of them loitering on street corners, guns at the ready.

All in all it is quite eerie and forboding. Westerners are locked up in their hotels, Burmese in their houses, waiting with some dread for the next installment of this unfolding and increasingly tragic drama.

When we reached the Shwedagon pagoda just as the latest demonstration was gathering, we knew something was up.

It had begun quietly and serenely as it had done for days, with an almost carnival air. We saw buses crammed with saffron-robed monks spilling out of the doors and windows, heading to Shwedagon pagoda. People cheered them as they went; some bowed admiringly, their hands held out in supplication.

But when we reached the Shwedagon pagoda just as the latest demonstration was gathering, we knew something was up. We saw plain-clothes government thugs threatening the monks. And we knew then that something had changed. One of them was standing above a group of monks, hanging off a railing and screaming at them. He shouted: "Do you want death? If you want death, trying walking down this street."

When the monks tried to begin their march, the troops moved in. The exuburance of recent days received a sharp reality check.

Just a few metres further along the road that runs in front of the gold-domed pagoda, other thugs wielding chunks of wood had surrounded about eight monks and were threatening them menacingly, almost girding them to take them on. Our taxi driver was nervous and moved along as quickly as he could in his battered out old cab.

We then circled around in another taxi, and when we came back to the pagoda the police and soldiers had sealed it off. Troops in crisp uniforms had taken up positions around the pagoda. There was a strong whiff of impending danger, and when the monks tried to begin their march, the troops moved in. The exuburance of recent days received a sharp reality check.

First came the tear gas, clouds of it hanging in the air as they tried to force the monks to disperse. But many stood their ground, some covering their faces with scarves and shouting defiantly. Then we heard the first crackles of gunfire. Here it was, what people had feared. The riot police and soldiers were moving in, and ready to spill blood.

Then we heard the first crackles of gunfire. Here it was, what people had feared.

Later, as the clashes intensified, so did the defiance. The marches of recent days have followed a familiar route, snaking down from Shwedagon pagoda to another revered Buddhist shrine, the Sule pagoda. The monks who had made it past the police cordons and seen some of their friends beaten severely, were cheered like conquering heroes by civilians who lined the streets.

Some of those civilians felt emboldened by the monks' presence and followed them along the street, heading toward the Sule pagoda. A young man said, with a smile, "They are singing a Burmese national song. They are singing we are the brave, we are fighters."

There were shades of Tianamen Square as people threw themselves and their bicycles on the ground, burying their heads in their hands or hugging their friends.

For some time the military seemed to toy with the crowd, as line after line of trucks, filled with soldiers, roared past them and circled the streets. People screamed out at them - mocking, heckling, jeering. Some men gave them a middle finger. After they tired of this charade, a six-truck military convoy, headed by a jeep, drove straight towards us and roared down towards the Sule pagoda.

As they passed, an almighty spatter of automatic gunfire ripped through the air. There were shades of Tianamen Square as people threw themselves and their bicycles on the ground, burying their heads in their hands or hugging their friends. Then a terrified human tide swept down the street, fleeing from the soldiers in my direction. A look of terror was etched on many faces.

There was a feeling that after all this time, all this suffering, they were prepared for whatever was being dished out.

A young man ran past shouting "Soldiers, soldiers, army shooting", curling his index finger into a trigger. Another ran up and shouted: "A kid has been shot." An older man took me aside, and said: "This is very, very bad governmment. You are witness to this. They try to control the people. All those soldiers down there." As he said this, more gunfire erupted - and the crowd, now scattering all around, jeered defiantly, shouting abuse towards the soldiers.

The regime had turned its guns on its own people, and it wasn't pretty. But even then, after all the shooting and beatings, people were defiant. Some even walked back down toward the pagoda, and the soldiers now lined across the street, blocking the way to the pagoda.

A monk sat down in front of the soldiers, and was joined by a few other brave souls. It was an incredible scene. Some appeared to have no fear. There was a feeling that after all this time, all this suffering, all the desperation and hardships they have endured, they were prepared for whatever was being dished out. "You must tell the world what is happening here," one man said.

The fear is now that the military may say, "Blood has now been spilt, so why not go the whole hog?"

Perhaps by the standards of the Burmese military, some might say there was a degree of restraint today. And it's true that a lot of the gunfire was fired into the air. But in a way, that is the most frightening part. If there were all these casualties today, then what would happen if they really do unleash their forces?

They are taking on unarmed, defenceless monks, and civilians. The fear is now that the military may say, "Well, blood has now been spilt, the world has condemned us anyway, so why not go the whole hog?" Today was a bit of fiasco for the military because they went in hard but could not stop the demonstrations. So that frustration may come out.

Some are saying that tomorrow they fear the streets could be filled with blood. Trucks crammed with soldiers have been roaring around this city all day, and they seem to be filled with menace. So tonight there is a disturbing mood of forboding.

I did see some aid workers and UN employees heading out of one hotel at some haste, to reach another hotel which they felt would be safer.

I did see a handful of westerners today, and some seemed alarmed. I met a British man whose wife was pregnant, and he was at the end of his holiday. He was taking some pictures of the crowd, and seemed puzzled and worried. "What's going to happen?" he asked me, as if anyone really knows.

Westerners are not a target in this. There are some business people here, albeit few in number, and from what I have heard they are not fleeing en masse.

But I did see some aid workers and UN employees heading out of one hotel at some haste, just before curfew, to reach another hotel which they felt would be safer. They said they had been ordered to do so by the bosses in Geneva and New York.

Western tourists have been important to the economy here in recent years, and still people are coming through. The Burmese are very hospitable people, and those westerners who I saw witnessing the demonstrations - and later clashes - today were greeted with smiles and cheers by some who urged them to tell their friends, families, and leaders about what was happening.

t was quite moving. Of course, for westerners to have a quiet little natter with one of the soldiers is another matter. I'm not sure they would be so welcoming.

The regime is rattled but is clearly prepared to fight back, thumbing its nose to the international community.

It seems that the military are not prepared to satisfy the demands of the protesters, and the protesters have made it clear they have had enough of the military. There appears to be little common ground and little chance of dialogue. Burma might change - but not perhaps in the way the protesters want it to. The regime is rattled but is clearly prepared to fight back, thumbing its nose to the international community.

But the fact that monks have been beaten and the images are so bad for the regime, there might be a shift. Perhaps we may still see some divisions emerging within the military.

Some people are talking about Aung Sang Suu Kyi. The word is that they were trying to reach her house again today. There have been rumours that she has been carted off to prison. Of course, many feel she is a symbol of hope, of change after all these years of military misrule.

But funnily enough, today a lot of people were chanting the name of her father, Aung San, who is seen as the father of the nation. When soldiers began firing today some demonstrators shouted "Aung Sang would never have allowed this. He was the right leader, not this government."

It's the monks who are being hailed as the new heroes. Many people were in awe of their bravery.

I have heard that some people have been going to stand by his statue over the past few days, and sing the national anthem with great emotion. I suppose at a time of fear and unrest people cling to what they know and what they hold dear. They cling to symbols that represent better times, who represent hope.

In that context it's the monks who are being hailed as the new heroes, and that was cemented today. Many people were in awe of their bravery, the way they stood defiantely, armed only with their message of peace and reconciliation, as they were humiliated, beaten, and shot by the people they say they are striving to help - the young, soldiers who they feel are victims too.