Marooned: The anatomy of a civil siege
By Charles McDermid 

(See also Thailand crashes and burns Asia Times Online, November 27, 2008.)

BANGKOK - Birgitte Christensen was already in the check-out line when the airport was overrun.

By her reckoning, it was around 8:30 pm on Tuesday night, and after a few weeks of sunbathing in the "Land of Smiles", the travel agent from Copenhagen was headed home.

At this moment protesters from the People’s Alliance for Democracy (PAD) burst through the doors of Southeast Asia's

 
busiest airport and began to seize control. As if forewarned, the flight official attending to Christensen handed back her ticket and asked her to leave the building.

"They just swarmed in. I turned around, and they were everywhere," said Christensen.

Eyewitnesses said that some PAD protesters wore ski masks or bandanas, a few carried metal poles. Protesters quickly erected a large sign sincerely apologizing for the inconvenience as others passed out leaflets explaining their anti-government cause.

With well-orchestrated anarchy, the PAD was to set off a series of incongruous events that would strand thousands of travelers and sully the reputation of their homeland. Later, the air traffic control tower was stormed by a mob, and bomb blasts were reported outside the arrival gate. Throughout the ordeal, however, the PAD made sure there was fresh toilet paper in the restrooms.

The odd occupation of Suvarnabhumi Airport had begun.

Tuesday, November 25
All flights were canceled as the PAD consolidated its seizure of Suvarnabhumi on the evening of November 26. As this became clear to travelers, the cavernous departure lobby was chaos.

"There were a thousand people here with their luggage and we were told to leave the building. No one knew what to do," said Christensen. "I wasn't scared at all, just confused. We were asking, from our point of view, why don't the police or the army stop them?"

Witnesses said that yellow-clad protesters were now everywhere. "Suvarnabhumi" is a Pali word meaning "land of gold". Soon, the PAD's reinforcements arrived with much of the logistical capacity that has allowed the siege of Government House to endure for months - massive loudspeakers, camera crews, a makeshift stage for speechmaking, blankets and innumerable palates of food and bottled water.

Within hours, the US$4 billion airport - the 18th busiest in the world - was transformed from a glistening gateway for more than 700 daily flights and some 40 million annual travelers, into a protest site. Western tourists were appalled.

"Has there been a situation like this before? This is a well-functioning county. Nowhere does this happen," said Christensen. "It's really been surreal."

With a thousand angry tourists milling about, airport staff took unusual measures to remove them.

"They told us there was a bomb," said Jennifer Cooper, 37, of Melbourne, Australia. "When I said 'no, there isn't', they asked me if I knew what snipers are. They said there would be tear gas."

Jennifer's husband, Peter, admitted he lost his temper on Tuesday.

"After we wouldn't believe about the bomb, they said leave or they would call security," he said. "But I looked around and saw all the security leaving. Then they said there would be an announcement, so we all sat around and waited. Then the announcement was that there would be another announcement at 10 pm."

Linda Edwards and her son, Nathan Sydnor, 28, arrived just before the takeover. They had a Wednesday departure at 6 am, but they'd seen newspaper headlines and decided the only way to make it home for Thanksgiving dinner in Richmond, Virginia, was to head to the airport straightaway. It took them two drivers and "extra money" to even reach the besieged facility.

"When we got there they rushed us into a bus. I mean there were a thousand people there and like 20 busses," said Sydnor. "Then when we got on the bus, a guy stood up and asked us if we were going to Pattaya or Bangkok. We didn't even know what the question was."

As the capture of Suvarnabhumi was taking place, Jill Paley was across the street sitting by the pool at the Novotel Hotel.

The 32-year-old advertising executive from Boston had just begun her first-ever solo vacation. It was her first Thanksgiving away from family and she was on a layover to meet a travel group in Hanoi.

"At about 6:30, the bartender came out to the pool and said 'we're closing down'," Paley said. "Then he drew a picture of a tank on a napkin and said 'go to your room'. I started to cry."

By all accounts, Western travelers scattered to seek hotels and alternative departures. Others - such as the Coopers from Melbourne who spent the night in a shuttered eatery on the fourth floor - stayed at the airport.

"This was the beginning of my dream vacation. I'm a woman and I'm traveling all by myself," Paley said. "When I said goodbye I said the only thing I'm worried about is Bangkok."

Wednesday, November 26
By Wednesday night at 11 pm, embassies had removed most of the remaining Western foreigners. The PAD’s control was total.

Roadblocks had been erected at intervals several kilometers outside the airport. Vehicles were met by PAD squads wearing fluorescent vests and waving flashlights. The road in was strewn with debris and makeshift campsites. Cars were parked in all but one of the five lanes, tunneling traffic through the cursory checkpoints.

Outside the main arrival area was a sprawling protest camp. PAD supporters, many sitting or sleeping on mats, surrounded a stage and massive video screen. Waving the ubiquitous plastic "hand-clappers" of the PAD, the crowd roared its endorsement as strident protest speakers rallied the crowd with call-and-response rhetoric.

There was little concern for Thailand's reputation on the world stage.

"I know a lot of people don't like what we are doing. They think we're crazy, said PAD member Somkait Chan on Wednesday. "But we have no choice but to do this. We have protested for 180 days already and we will stay until Somchai leaves. We will leave when we decide."

Inside the airport, the 30 or so remaining Westerners were enjoying an abandoned international airport.

Just before midnight, 25-year-old Klaus Dankelmann was drinking beer and racing on rolling chairs with his friends from Meunster, Germany. As the competition grew heated on an ad hoc racetrack in front of "V" departure line, bottles and chairs were smashed amid much laughter and the consternation of none.

"I don't feel scared at all. They said there might be some violence and we said why?" Dankelmann said. "Other embassies came to get their people out of here - but we're just going to sleep here until morning."

Camped out with Dankelmann's group was Guernsey-native Andy Du-Bois Barclay, a Hong Kong private equities accountant who'd been traveling for two weeks after losing his job over the credit crunch. He was set to start a new job on Monday.

"I knew there was a protest going on, but who expects an airport to be closed? I was expecting some angry people, I wasn't expecting Afghanistan," said Barclay. "I’m going to sleep at the airport and then just go home. I've got nine beers here and I'm going to stay for the rest of the night."

Tony Beck, 39, self-professed "budget traveler" from Liverpool, England, spent Wednesday sleeping across three desk chairs. Like many others, the most maddening insult of the ordeal was a lack of information.

"I'm staying here until I get a flight. I don't have access to the money that others do," said Beck. "This is a farce. I've got no information from anybody. Nobody knows anything. I can't say this is going to do much for Thai tourism."

Beck continued: "I don't have a family to send me money - even if I had a wife she'd think I was playing around."

Witnesses said embassy officials had combed the airport for nationals earlier that day.

Bozena Kunova, first secretary of the embassy of the Czech Republic, arrived around midnight. She'd managed to locate four Czechs and was resigned to the situation.

"It's modern life," she said to Asia Times Online. "Nobody knows, maybe Buddha knows. We're telling Czech citizens to change their plans and not travel here."

According to Kunova, she knew of no diplomatic pressure on Bangkok to resolve the crisis. "We're just trying to help them, we'll take them by car to a hotel. But we can't get anyone a flight."

Between aisles "U" and "W", hundreds of Muslim travelers had made camp. They were traveling to Mecca, to complete the hajj, and the deadline was December 2.

Thai newspaper reported that 416 pilgrims were stranded at Suvarnabhumi since Monday after their Iranian plane scheduled to fly them to Jeddah in Saudi Arabia had to be diverted.

Near closing time at the Novotel Hotel, a group of stranded Americans gathered at the bar to compare Thanksgiving Day disappointment stories.

A 40-something traveler from Seattle, who didn't want to use his name, said he'd be missing his sister's wedding. Linda Edwards said the entire family would be together except her and Nathan: "What this story is really about to me," said Edwards, "is a grandmother not getting home to see her grandchild."

Others had it worse. Lucy Kernan-Schloss of Arlington, Virginia, had been stuck since the night before. She'd spent 10 days with her daughter in Chiang Mai, and was scheduled to arrive home in time for Thanksgiving.

"I was told my father-in-law has maybe 14 days left to live, so this was a special Thanksgiving," said Kernan-Schloss on November 26. "But we all have our stories."

By 4 am on Wednesday, the airport was a zombie land of bleary-eyed tourists and slumbering protesters. A muzak rendition of Yesterday played in the background.

Thursday-Friday, November 27-28
In and around Bangkok on Thursday morning, marooned foreign travelers were scrambling for creative travel arrangements and reassuring loved ones.

John Guislin, a 58-year-old software developer from Palo Alto, arrived on Tuesday after a vacation in Bhutan. He and his wife were going to rent a taxi and driver for the 24-hour ride to Singapore. Lucy Kernan-Schloss of Arlington, and Paley took the train to Cambodia.

"We had heard about the trouble in Bangkok but didn't know how bad it was," said Guislin. "It was just bad timing."

On Khao San Road, Bangkok's backpacker ghetto, frantic travelers hit the Internet and phones. With no departing flights from Bangkok, and the airport at Phuket clogged with thousands of passengers, "other arrangements" were elusive.

Michael Turner, press attache for the US Embassy in Bangkok, said there are "hundreds" of Americans currently in Thailand. Since Tuesday's seizure of Suvarnabhumi, Turner and the entire consular staff have been fielding phone calls.

Complaints about lost luggage and reluctant insurance agents are rampant.

"When I called my agent about my travelers insurance - the first thing he said was 'Are you sitting down'?" said Jennifer Cooper.

Many said their travel insurance would not cover a "regional disturbance", others said an act of terrorism couldn't be covered.

Michael and Francie Ciangura, honeymooners from Melbourne, who had lost their luggage and had little money left at the tailend of their holiday, were stuck with the clothes on their back. Michael, who was making his fourth trip to Thailand, said it's likely he'll never come back.

Len Polsky of Ottawa had a different take. "We're making lemonade out of this lemon," he said. "Our trip wasn't ruined, it was extended."

Polsky and his wife had taken a travel agent's advice and the retired couple had booked into the Hard Rock Hotel in Pattaya.

By Friday evening, the government had authorized force to remove the protesters and reopen the airport. The news was welcome to weary Westerner travelers, but long overdue.

Charles McDermid is a correspondent for Asia Times Online based in Thailand.

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