Through Tears and Taxi Rides: The Heartbeat of Solidarity
Marc Batac feels a deep personal connection to Burma, one that goes beyond activism and touches on genuine solidarity and friendship, as he described in a recent podcast episode. Marc speaks with warmth about the Burmese people, highlighting their honesty, kindness, and openness, whether it’s an activist or a taxi driver. He also is struck by the way the Burmese go out of their way to show hospitality, often seeing him as a sibling. These small, everyday acts of care and generosity have left a lasting impression on him, grounding his sense of solidarity in personal relationships rather than just political movements. He values these moments of vulnerability and emotional connection, such as the tears and shared dreams during emergency calls with Burmese friends, which reinforce his belief that solidarity isn’t measured solely by protests but by the ways people show up for each other in times of crisis. For Marc, Burma represents both a place of immense pain and resilience, where despite the brutality of the military, the people have not lost their ability to dream of a better future.
“The most fundamental meanings and the ways that we see solidarity - and solidarity is important to me - are in the ways that we show up with each other.”
“In Myanmar, what really stuck with me is that whether it's activist, peer, or taxi driver, there is just deep honesty, friendship, and warmth that they always show you. That candidness, you know that they mean well and they see you as a sibling. It's easy to connect with them. They really would go out of their way to show you around. The activist I met in the protests here in the Philippines, I only met him once, but when he knew that I was going there, he did arrange and would drive me around to meet with other activists. Sometimes, during work, our taxi driver would even go out of the way to show us around in Yangon and where we needed to be. It's an accumulation of those small things, small things that are fundamental.
For me, as an activist, the big words are good as anchors, as I told you from when I studied political theory and political philosophy in university, but it is those everyday small things that really anchor and ground all of that. Solidarity, as a word, is such a big thing. But solidarity, I do not measure solidarity in the big protests. That is important for collective action, but for me, the most fundamental meanings and the ways that we see solidarity - and solidarity is important to me - are in the ways that we show up with each other.
I quite remember in that first call with Myanmar friends, when they asked for solidarity, and for that emergency call, it was quite an emotional time for everyone. There were a lot of tears and then we were crying. And I knew that kind of vulnerability. It's not usually something that, as activists, we would show, especially with someone who is not from your country. But the vulnerability, to show that to a peer, how massively painful but that even at the same time, even if it's painful, that they have not lost the ability to dream and to aspire.
When they asked, even if they were crying - I think that was the start of that violence during the first week - still, they're asking us, still looking at it simply about Myanmar, but also situating Myanmar in the broader collective experience that we have in the region. ‘Marc, there is something that's wrong. That's something broken with this system. It's Myanmar now. But tomorrow, it will be Hong Kong, it will be the Philippines. And that's why we have to do better.’”