A Typical Day in Bahrain

A Typical Day in Bahrain
27 September, 2012 – By Mohamed Bardastani – The Minaret

A couple of years ago, poverty, corruption, dictatorship, inequality, discrimination, unemployment and economic hardship were the main headlines covering the Arab region. Today, many of these struggles still exist. However, now, with a single big change: hope. This hope stems from the aftermath of the Arab Spring, which is a series of revolutionary protests that took place in the Middle East and North Africa. Protests across the Arab world, generally speaking, shared very similar demands. The people protested primarily against the power balance in the Arab region where the few elites control the wealth and power of the country while the rest of the population is completely sidelined from any real involvement in the political decision-making mechanism. The people also demanded greater freedoms and an end to prolonged years of unelected autocrats and dictators.

Ever since the Arab Spring started, I was distanced from it geographically. However, I kept a close eye on the socio-political changes that swept the region. My participation was confined to observing, reading the news and tweeting about the events that took part in the Middle East and North Africa. Things changed as I headed back home to Bahrain for my break in August this year. I found myself this time at the height of the events, and I feel compelled to share my experience.

Just a week after landing in Bahrain, Hussam Al-Hadad, 16, was killed by Bahraini riot police as a result of excessive use of force; mainly bird’s shotgun, an internationally prohibited weapon. He was apparently taking part in clashes between riot police and protesters. First of all, let me explain that Bahrain, as a part of the Arab Spring has been rocked with pro-democracy protests since Feb. 14, 2011. The government dealt with the protests using sheer brutality, and since then clashes between police and protesters have been the norm of Bahrain for the past year and a half.

I decided to go to Hussam’s funeral to honor him. I purposely went very early to Muharraq, where the funeral took place in order to avoid the hassle of being questioned by the police about my destination. Nevertheless, as my friend and I approached Muharraq, there was a police checkpoint. A policeman asked us, “Where are you going?” We replied with our rehearsed, fully memorized answer: “We’re going to the mall.” As if the police didn’t already know from our faces and names (it is very easy in Bahrain to distinguish people based on their sectarian affiliation) that we intended on going to the funeral. He was very polite and said he’d prefer if we went back home. My friend and I insisted that we would get out of Muharraq quickly, so he let us in. As we continued driving around to pass time, the signs of a police state in Bahrain were too conspicuous. Police cars and checkpoints were everywhere, armed cars barricaded almost every corner and a helicopter hovered over the locked down area where riot police were in a state of alert preparing to face the angry mourners. We finally parked our car somewhere we thought to be smart, between the cemetery, where the martyr is buried, and the Ma’tam (a Shiite religious establishment) where the crowds typically initiate protests in the case of a martyr’s funeral.

The area surrounding the Ma’tam was in complete lock-down. Police were everywhere. We had to walk around carefully and maneuver through Zaraneeg—narrow streets—of Muharraq to get to the Ma’tam. We were completely lost. There were a couple people that seemed to be heading toward the same destination. Nevertheless, it was too risky to ask them for directions, as they might not be Rabu’ena (our allies). We tried to follow the voice of a Quran recitation until one man volunteered to take us to the Mat’am. At last, we were among the crowds of men and women waiting for the procession to begin. We waited for people to gather then headed to the cemetery to honor the martyr. The angry crowds of men and women started shouting the usual slogans, “down with the king; people want to overthrow the regime; we kneel only to God.” As I passed through the narrow streets of Muharraq, I noticed the very expressive graffiti; a culture in Bahrain, whether for pro or anti-government. Given the tight security and censorship of newspapers and opposition websites, many people resort to graffiti to express anger and frustration against the Bahraini government, especially in the more impoverished areas. Most anti-government graffiti read: ‘down with the king, step down Khalifa’ (the prime minister), pictures of martyrs and detainees, or Rumooz (the prominent political and human rights activists). On the other hand, pro-government graffiti read: ‘we are all Khalifa’, ‘Khalifa is the glory of the country’, etc. Graffiti serves as just another proxy of the political friction in Bahrain.

As we continued marching, it was not long before I heard the sound of shots and the crowd retracting. I felt something strange. My eyes, nose and mouth were burning. I was reacting to the infamous Bahraini tear gas. A man offered me a bottle of water and I grabbed it and washed my face thoroughly.

The police dispersed us very well. I, among others, headed back to the Mat’am while the majority of people headed to the cemetery. Though in small groups, defying the role of riot police. We were in a state of anticipation, waiting for imminent danger, because the police-rioters usually end up with a large number of causalities. There were too many events and emotions going on; I had a hard time processing them altogether in a short span of time. I saw one mother with her eyes telling what her tongue couldn’t, wondering whether her son was coming back home safely that night. Bahraini prisons are very notorious; the BICI report documented cases of electrocution, torture and sleep deprivation. I saw a father standing firmly for his beliefs and rights, “Why do they arrest us? We’re only mourning whom they killed! What’s wrong with that?” It was a long day. I spent most of my time back and forth in the Ma’tam and outside of it. I managed to leave with my friend unscathed, after making sure no riot police were close by. …more