The people marched through Myanmar, into the heart of Myanmar, and Mawlamiin marched on the east coast, seeking to end military rule. He refused to spread to the casino town of Mayawadi, even when police fired warning shots.
In the sagging division, in the foothills of the Himalayas, a man from the Naga ethnic group, wearing a fur hat, garnished it with horny wings and boar’s throat and raised his hand in a defensive salute. And in the country’s largest city of Yangon, columns of red-clad protesters moved towards Sule Pagoda from where the eye could see.
Nearly a week after the country’s generals were overthrown, people are speaking out, taking civilian leaders into custody and bringing Myanmar back under military rule. Over the weekend, he marched in cities and towns across the country. He embellished with red balloons and ribbons, as well as the Crimson flag, a white star and a Golden Fighting Peacock, which were included in the ousted National League for Democracy Party.
And he united once again for independence, once again, Dau Aung San Suu Kyi, a civilian leader who served a 15-year sentence during the military’s nearly 50-year grip on power. For five years, Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s National League for Democracy led a civilian government that received two decisive mandates from voters, even with the military retaining much authority. On 1 February, the military coup ended any confusion over power sharing.
In the past, the military has rallied with gunmen, Buddhist monks and student protesters alike during the shooting. Its response already includes dozens of arrests and telecommunications outages that prevent days of secession under the June regime. The commemoration of the military assassination of pro-democracy protesters recently did not stop them from taking to the streets over the weekend of 2007.
Koi Zee, who attended a rally on Sunday, said, “I have no concern if they shoot because under the military, our lives will die anyway.” “We have to resist before we die completely.”
Even in Napediva, the capital that was purposefully built by the generals earlier this century, hundreds of motorcycles rolled up the normally empty sidewalk, the National League for Democracy flags.
In refugee camps in Bangladesh, where nearly one million Rohingya Muslims who fled the army’s pogroms in Myanmar have now joined the call for reinstatement of the refugee government, even though Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi has internationally accused the military of genocide Prosecution should be defended.
“They killed the Rohingya, they tortured us and we did not forget those cruel days,” said Abdur Rahim, who fled from Myanmar and now lives in the Kutupalong camp in Bangladesh, the world’s largest refugee settlement. “We express solidarity with those who are protesting against the military government in Myanmar.”
The internet was shut down in Myanmar on Saturday during the coup, but was reinstated a day later. However, no one knew when another outrage could cut the country again. While they could, the protesters posted live videos on Facebook. Millions of people preferred to offer their support online, a stream of hearts and a display of defiance of each city.
On Saturday night, what happened for a moment due to the sound of gunshots through the air in Yangon and Mandalay city, but the noise from the firecrackers began to occur. A rumor that first emerged from the text message among the soldiers spread to the population: Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi was freed. People burnt firecrackers in joy and sang protests.
But the rumor was just that, and perhaps even dissolution.
On Sunday, some protesters said they felt that the military had spread false rumors about Ms. Aung San Suu Kyi’s release to prevent people from coming out. He said that the possibility of such psychological warfare had angered him during the internet blackout.
“The army is spreading fake news about Mau Aung San Suu Kyi,” said Ma Mo Maw Tun, who marched on Sunday. “I do not accept it, and we will protest until the military dictatorship is lifted and the civilian government returns.”
Over the weekend, the US Embassy in Myanmar said on Twitter that it “supported the right of the people of Myanmar to protest in support of a democratically elected government and their right to freely use information.”
Another tweet said, “We reiterate our call for the military to reissue its strength, restore a democratically elected government, remove all telecommunications restrictions and avoid violence.”
In Yangon, the street protests on Sunday felt like a giant party, a moment of liberation from the tension of a military putt and ignoring the coronovirus epidemic through the first mass gathering in months.
But the spectacle of the military still looms. The medics stood at the guard, waiting for what they had to do. People monitored movements from military bases, in which case soldiers were seen moving towards the protest. The protesters placed food, water and red roses in front of police officers in riot gear as a peace proposal. Some have obeyed.
Officials of the National League for Democracy said that as a party they did not want people on the streets. Instead, he urged a campaign of civil disobedience, which is also increasing each day.
In 1988, Yu Aung Kyo Thu, who survived the bloody demolition of the army, said that memories of that massacre still hang on.
“I want people to stay at home because if people can’t control their emotions, the tension will get bigger and there will be more casualties,” he said. “They’ll shoot whenever they want and I’m scared of people.”