OXLAEYthe day after the police storm the protesters
Saturday morning. X’s mobile phone began to ring of terror. Call after call the phone rang until she finally answered. Special Ukrainian police forces had violently cleared the few hundred overnight protesters at Independence Square – at 4 a.m.. On Youtube there are four or five videos which show a very small number of protesters being hit with clubs. It is questionable whether or not the force used was really excessive. Undoubtedly, however, it was an incredibly stupid move on the part of the special forces. I can only explain the special forces’ decision to use force on a dying political movement as a simple reflection of top government officials that they could act with impunity. After all, who was standing in their way? A group of starry-eyed students?
Saturday morning I felt fear for the first time. E, X and I went to St. Michael’s golden-domed monastery, where the injured protesters were said to be sheltered. Rumors swarmed by phone and on Facebook that arriving onlookers were being arrested just for showing up. I seriously considered not going, after all it wasn’t my country. In the end, I had grown too close to my new roommates and their friends. Still, I thought of myself: What was the worst they could do to me as an American citizen? I took my passport and some cash.
I was relieved to see there weren’t any police at all around when we arrived to at the Square in front of the monastery. We weren’t the first. One to two thousand visibly angry citizens had already gathered. They lined the street crossing in front of the white and blue church tower, chanting and holding up signs. The message had changed. No longer did the crowd swarm for the European Union. “Shame”, “Resign” and “Glory to Ukraine” filled the air.
It is hard to imagine the true cost of democracy. For generations, most Americans have gorged on freedom, growing fat and complacent. How else to explain that only 57% of American, registered to vote, actually cast a ballot in the last presidential election.
Rumors that protesters were being arrested just for simply showing up in front of the monastery, prove not to be true. There aren’t any militia forces at all to be seen when we arrive. This particularly positive for the police, because there is visible anger on the faces of the thousand or so protesters. More and more people arrive. They line the street, chanting and holding up signs along the street which runs from the monastery to Independence Square. The message has grown violent: Ukraine – stand up and fight. At one point in the early afternoon a busload of police appear. Perhaps they were simply unaware of the crowd, but in any case were immediately swarmed. Protesters beat on the sides of the vehicles. They seem just a second away from breaking the windows and dragging officers out of the side of the bus. E, standing next to me, shouts, urging the crowd to be peaceful. An elderly grandmother turns sharply to her yelling that violence is all the militia understand.
The mob continues to grow in number over the next few hours. Some bring food, others candles. A few direct traffic. A power generator and speakers appear. Protesters address the crowd, while opposition politicians are conspicuously absent. By nightfall the self-organizing crowd calmed. The atmosphere is confident even celebratory. Young men wearing gas masks stand alongside a young blond posing for a picture with a red rose in her hand. Young children dance next to their parents. It is a predominantly middle-age crowd.
