General Ne Win (1911-2002). |
I often witnessed the MIS men in a Mazda E2000 mini-truck regularly taking away that old red-flag Communist Yee Mhaing (a) Nyo Mhaing whenever the dates of politically significant events from past approached. Sometimes he came back in few days but sometimes it could take months or even years. His life was so unstable he didn’t have a job. He couldn’t even work as an itinerant laborer and I sometimes felt really bad seeing him wandering from one teashop to another teashop.
I’d
also seen mildly-mad Tin Aung Htun who used to live near my great
uncle’s house when I was a young boy. He was arrested and tortured by Ne
Win’s Government for his involvement in 1974 U Thant Uprising. Since
then he would avoid a crowd. Whenever he saw a group of students in
school uniform he became really scared and always tried to hide. Even
though some students in our neighborhood laughed at his habit of running
away and hiding inside the house whenever someone teasingly said to
him that the students were coming I always wondered why did he become
like that.
But
one day I who had seen the ruined lives of two politicians first hand
got a chance to read rare political literature. One of my friends
exchanged my guitar for the big pine box full of books left by his
recently deceased grandfather. Among the rare old books were two books
titled “The Last Days of Thakhin Than Htun” one published by
Mya-yar-bin Books and other one by the ruling BSPP. I read two books
together and discovered that those two books with same title were
completely different.
U Nu (1907-1995). |
Very soon I knew a lot such as what
is BSPP, who really is Dictator Ne Win, who is U Nu, etc. Also from that
time I began to dislike BSPP and Ne Win. I also knew more about 1974 U
Thant Uprising where many university students were killed by the Army.
Then 1988 came. We used to chat a lot about March Incident
when RIT student Phone Maw was killed by the police. One female
teacher who knew I was always talking eagerly about politics even paid a
visit to our usual hang-out Thain-koe-zae teashop and warned me not to
stay at home and to hide. Only then I felt really worried about myself
getting arrested.
But
on the other hand I was childishly happy that the much-talk-about
8-8-88 General Strike would happen and probably bring the downfall of Ne
Win’s BSPP government. I was only 16 back then.
I
was even afraid that the Strikes wouldn’t happen. But if there would
be an uprising because of the strikes I wanted it to be successful.
Only then I wouldn’t be arrested I guessed. Thus I decided to
participate in the coming General Strike. I wouldn’t run away I
decided.
Even
though I was worrying for myself because of that teacher’s warning,
actually I didn’t really do much politically before. Once I merely
stood and watched the protesters burning a government Mazdajeep vehicle
from the Tourist Myanmar by the Sule Pagoda.
And in last March when we heard about
the student strike in the Yangon University I went there with two
friends to watch. But we turned back after my friends chickened out and
wanted to go back home. Even if we went into the Yangon University we
wouldn’t see a thing as the actual student strike was in the Yangon
Institute of Technology. But because of my two friends telling others
about our misadventure I became well known among our friends as someone
who had connections with the student strikes.
In
reality I had no political colors and no body had ever recruited me
and no UG (Underground movement of a political organization) had ever
encouraged me. I was just a politically curious boy and that nasty
challenge of Dictator Ne Win on the State-owned TV daring the people to
protest against his Socialist Government made me participate in the
Uprising.
Historic Day 8-8-88
The morning of 8 August 1988.
The
Kyauktadar Township where I lived then was right in the middle of Yangon and that morning there were no shops opened in the nearby 38th
Street Market but few street vendors. Most of the shops on the Anawrahtar Road (Frazer
Road) were shut and all the gold shops were closed
too. People were expecting a very large crowd of striking protesters
coming into the city.
Every
body was talking about the strikes all over Yangon and the various
crowds marching towards city. Also the rumors of the arrival in Yangon
of feared Chin troops with red scarves around their necks were breaking
out everywhere. People were even saying that the Chins were gonna
really shoot the protesters on the streets this time as Dictator Ne Win
had threatened on the Government TV.
While
we were waiting the marching strikers came into the city as expected.
It was a huge crowd and by that afternoon the whole army of protesters
coming into the city had turned back from the Pansodan Street and
gathered in front of the City Hall. I and a few friends wanted to join
the demonstrations but we managed to do only just getting in and out of
the crowd.
Almost everyone covered their faces with pieces of clothing or handkerchiefs to hide their identity from the government agents taking secret photos. In my pocket I had a large handkerchief I prepared for this occasion yesterday in case I needed. By six o’clock the massive crowd was so incredibly huge anyone could have hard time getting through.
Almost everyone covered their faces with pieces of clothing or handkerchiefs to hide their identity from the government agents taking secret photos. In my pocket I had a large handkerchief I prepared for this occasion yesterday in case I needed. By six o’clock the massive crowd was so incredibly huge anyone could have hard time getting through.
While I was standing at the corner of 37th
Street and Maha Bandoola Road and watching the crowd a few with their
faces covered and their bags slung across their shoulders came into the
street and asked for packed-lunch donations as we had expected. The
overwhelming support from people of our street was incredible.
Every
apartment block turned off the stairs-lights and the residents waited
downstairs at the stairs and called out to the collectors and gave than
already made packed-lunches. Every five or 6 stair cases was enough to
fill their large basket with packed-meals. I was first watching the
collectors carrying the heavy basket and suddenly decided to help them
and so I willingly ended up carrying their basket laden with
packed-meals.
I
and one other carried the huge basket filled with packed-meals
together back towards the Town Hall and people in the crowd along the
way gave us way and also cheered us. Their cheers made me fresh again
even though our shirts were drown with our own sweat from hard work.
One of my first cousins joined me helping the supply troops for the
protesters but later his father my uncle followed us and hit him on the
head and took him home.
He told me to come back home with
them but I just shook my head. I used to be afraid of that violent uncle
but that night he left me alone when I stared back at him with my eyes
just above the handkerchief mask covering half my face. I was really
enthusiastic about the protest that night.
Colonial-era Yangon City Hall. |
We
placed all these donated food at two places. One place was on the
median strip of Maha Bandoola Road right in front of the City Hall and
other was by the barbed-wire barricades on the corner of Barr Street and
Maha Bandoola Road. We put the food packages and soft drink cases
there right by the City Hall so that it will become a barrier if the
soldiers already inside the City Hall rushed out and attacked and tried
to arrest the protesters.
Never
in my mind did a thought occur then that those soldiers would later
brutally fire at the massive crowd gathering there. I was utterly wrong.
Encircled by the Troops
At nine in the night the ambulances
inside the City Hall compound suddenly left and many Hino TE 21 trucks
from the RTC (Road Transport Corporation) carrying more troops arrived.
The army officers on the loud-speakers were now shouting at the crowd
to disperse and not to wave the union flags any more. Behind the gates
and the low fences of the Town Hall were the Chin Troops with their
signature red scarves proudly around their necks.
Map of Central Yangon. |
They were from the 22nd
Light Infantry Division. That LID 22 would later become notorious as
the Army Division that brutally slaughtered hundreds and hundreds of its
own people.
People
were shouting the political slogans at the top of their voices and
many were loudly singing the national anthem. The bespectacled man
carrying the big basket together with me kept on reminding me to stay
with him all the time. He was much older than me and he was apparently
so worried that I a younger boy could get lost easily in the crowd in
such a possibly dangerous situation. Also with us were two young girls
still in the school uniforms of white blouse and green sarong.
The
scary rumors about the arrival of more army troops in the vicinity had
gradually forced most spectators to flee back home. Only now I
wondered the striking protesters should have retreated from that
confined space too like the others. Back then I didn’t think of the
real possibility that the leaderless demonstrating crowd was
deliberately kept there by the BSPP agents to be easily slaughtered by
the Government troops.
Those
agents were the men telling the crowd the encouraging news loud and
clear then. They were telling them that the State Council meeting had
already started, BSPP collapse was imminent, democracy was near, and the
Army was going to join us, etc, etc. Because of them the protesting
crowd wouldn’t disperse till it was too late.
(direct translation of Ye Min Tun’s ‘Four 8 Uprising and Me’)
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