Burmese Refugees Recall How the Protests Evolved

For several days, the marches met no government resistance. They grew in numbers.

On Sept. 22, the monks and their supporters won a key symbolic victory. They were allowed to march past the home of Aung San Suu Kyi, the opposition party leader under house arrest. Pan Cha had outlined the plan to march past her house in his regular nightly meeting with the government official. When the marchers arrived at University Avenue, where the Nobel Peace laureate's house is located, an army captain let them pass after conferring on the phone and with other officers and police on the scene.

"I was so happy I cried," Pan Cha said, his voice rising as he recalled the moment. "All the world leaders who want to meet with her and are not allowed, but we are allowed to meet. We could make the world know the Burmese people showed unity in support of Suu Kyi."

At this point, the marches were becoming more political. On Sept. 23, Pan Cha discussed with the monks a request by the All-Burma Federation of Student Unions, a government-banned group that had been marching with the monks but not officially declaring its presence. Now the students wanted to hold their banner when they marched. The monks decided to allow the students to hold the sign starting on Sept. 24, and members of Suu Kyi's National League for Democracy party were also allowed to hold signs.

The decision caused a subtle shift in the character of the demonstrations, Pan Cha said. "The main protesting before was for the country and for respecting religion, not for politics," he said.

The next two days of marches were peaceful, but when Pan Cha went to meet his contact the night of Sept. 25, the government official did not show up. Pan Cha, suspicious, called a meeting of the monks. "I told them we have to be cautious tomorrow," he said.

The violence began Sept. 26. Army troops from the regiment newly arrived from outside Rangoon, as well as police, surrounded the monks who had gathered at Shwedagon Pagoda to start their march. All four corners of the pagoda grounds were blocked.

A group of monks sat down in an attempt to begin negotiations to defuse the situation. "They started to pray, but the police just started beating them," Pan Cha said. Instantly, 50 to 100 police officers jumped from hiding places wielding wooden batons. A loudspeaker started blaring, telling people to go away. But there was nowhere to run; soldiers and police blocked all the exits.

Ashin Kovida felt the blow to his belly before he saw the stick coming. He was one of the seated monks and had raised his praying hands to his forehead as he chanted the Buddhist mantra for peace. As he doubled over from the blow, he saw novice monks trying to scramble up a high wall behind them. "People were trying to escape by climbing that wall, but the police were pulling them down and kicking them, even a girl."

Next, Ashin Kovida felt the tear gas. "I wondered if I might die when I was being beaten," he said. "I had never seen anything like that before." He ran to the wall and climbed over, dropping onto the ground at his Nan Oo monastery, next door to the pagoda. He and others climbed the wall on the other side and saw masses of people, their way into the pagoda complex blocked by troops. He called to them to turn and walk the other way, into the street and toward Sule Pagoda. He soon had a group of about 1,000 following him.

Ashin Kovida did not reach Sule Pagoda. Too many roads were blocked. He decided to go home to his monastery, a small one that had not yet been raided by police.

Pan Cha, meanwhile, tried to march a group to the Chinese Embassy to protest the bloodshed, but the roads were blocked. Police started beating the protesters and dragging them to trucks. Pan Cha was pulled into a house by people trying to protect him. They gave him clean clothes and took his bloodstained ones, then took him behind the house and helped him escape.