Mar15 Diary

After all the preps of the last days - felt even like weeks - the magic date finally arrived waking up with only a few hours sleep on a sun-shiny morning. Weather conditions forecast was very precise, an important footnote for the planned activities promising a huge participation. A last look in my map - my habibi Omar taught me always to carry one with ready written speeches, battle rhymes etc - and answering myself the final crucial questions (Banners are ready? Flyer not forgotten? Carry somithing to drink with you leaving for a longer time the house mom always told ..) I was in the mood to rally: the last events I‘d had always a problem speaking or shouting not loud enough so I decided for myself to raise my voice this time as much as I can.

One hour before the official begin we reached the starting place. A lot of residents and tourists strolled around the area enjoying each second in the warming spring sun. Meanwhile becoming normality that the people think I must also be Syrian (not difficult to understand, wrapped in the revo flag) some were slowening their walk, watching curiously and receiving the info cards I carried the whole time with me. I admittedly supposed that the public interest would not be so huge and therefore I was really surprised from the awareness of many of my fellows (appreciating it really and being kind of proud on them even if they could or would not participate on the rally itself, the protest culture here is not compatible for example to the French one).

More ans more Syrians arrived, not only from Munich, it appeared that the whole Southeast was represented on this special day. Banners, flags, plates, balloons - a multicolored impression accompanied by a handful of Brazilian drummers and - what made me personally glad to meet finally some of them - a group of Libyan thuwwar who are for medical treatment here in Germany and fit enough to walk with us through the city. Besides the Syrian revo flag I really love the Libyan colors, it‘s a wonderful flag containing also for me so much memories of the glorious freedom fight against the lunatic brother leader (who is now where he belongs: six feet under).

 The protest march started on time becoming soon wonderful noisy (sometimes I had the feeling they must hear us even in Damascus) and powerful. Can‘t remember all the different chants and slogans but the two words I‘ve heard most were 7orriye and azzizi, freedom in Arab and Kurd. As a small hommage to the Syrian revolution hero Ibrahim Qashoosh - peace be upon his soul - we contributed a special battle rhyme chant integrating his legendary text lines. I tried to to my best during the lead chant raising my voice via the megaphone as high as I could - with the result that I‘ve later lost my voice completely (while I‘m sitting here writing  I have a pot of hot tea near me, maybe it‘ll help a bit and I‘m very exited how I‘ll sound tomorrow in the morning). The whole atmosphere was all but heatened up in an aggressive manner, au contraire. Most of the Syrians I watched had that certain powerful glance in their eyes, no signs of resignation or so, you could nearly touch physically the point of no return in a positive manner: in earlier times the people were afraid of their regimes, but today the regimes are becoming afraid of their people (I‘ve borrowed the last words from the Tunisian writer Kawthar al-Tabii, credits in gratitude to her).

 Looking around I realized in one moment the privilege we had not being threatened by rude police guards or becoming targets of rooftop snipers - no, it‘s not too abstract to realize that being now since one year confronted with uploaded videos documenting exactly that state of insecurity. Well, it might be abstract for the inhabitants of the civilized democracies where live gunfire in that form simply doesn‘t exist, yes. But in fact, no snipers, no shabi7a-style bullies, no men7ebbak. I really hope the Syrians inside their country will soon face similar conditions in the streets and on the places.

 The rally convoy reached after aproximately one hour the destination place where the chants and shouts still continued. It was almost impossible to hold some speeches or stuff like that due to the everlasting chorus of some hundreds voices but that didn‘t really matter because of the vivid power all participants contributed at that time. Marvellous would describe it the best way because from the former inner wall of fear seemed not even a small brick left. If someone might have raised the question ,wen al-wa7da al-watania?‘, where is the national unity, I had to answer in that moment: well, exactly here it is. Arabs and Kurds, Sunnis, Alawis and Christians shouting together for their main demand - to get rid of the bloodshed causing regime.

 Suddenly I noticed a young guy, apparently in the beginning of the twenties, we met each other at the beginning of the rally when he introduced himself as Sami, looking like an average mate you would expect to see merely here in our regions and not combine him with being Syrian-rooted, becoming overwhelmed by his emotions. For me that was the momentum of the whole event. Lots of scars I saw on his arms and I remembered that he told me being arrested while he was in Syria. I‘s always different to witness signs of torture someone has in reality than being reported or documented in a footage. That moment touched me deeply. Strengtened by the impression that Sami reminded me on someone I met two years ago, a Bosnian, same age, almost same type. The empathic bridge was build. But I didn‘t confront him with insisting questions about the details of his detainment (I know, that was disqualifying me for the final exams in investigating journalism but I really hadn‘t that intention in that moment, believe me!), I only felt for him, from human being to human being honestly admiring the public expression of his feelings. I‘m sure if you‘ll ask me in ten or twenty years what will be remaining in my personal memory of the Syrian revolution this moment will belong to it. Sami‘s life story is his own property and I have not the right to take it from him unless he explicitly allows me to. He shared with me only a short close look which was strong enough to become eternal in my emotional memory and I‘m deeply grateful for that.

Later the evening, at the reading hold by the Syrian poet Fwaz al-Kadri and the above mentioned Tunisian writer, many of the rally participants sat together listening to really impressing poems and novel extracts around the Arab Spring last year and the situation in Syria in special. Strong images and inspiring metaphors and allegories transported not only the actual uprisings but also the general goals many generations before us were dealing with: freedom and human dignity. All in all it was a memorable day leaving supposedly not only me back with the expectation of March 15 next year when - I‘m totally sure of that - Assad and with him hopefully a lot of other dictators worldwide will be a closed chapter in history not being replaced by new tyrants ..