Peculiar, there seems to be some discussion in the local press of acoustic-wavelength crowd-control devices being used during the ritual meditative silence portion of the protest. [Updated 3/16: Although reported last night by mainstream outlets and the student law faculty twitter, it doesn't look like this necessarily was the case. Eerie moment in front of one of the state theatres in which it appears that everyone simultaneously decided to get out of the road. Edit 3/17: Based on the YT videos, it seems things started much further up the road, and the footage near the theatre was a downstream effect, which would have involved a good number of people, even just between those two points.] At which point, things apparently fell apart a bit. Odd. No telling from which direction--could have come from anywhere, in that wide-open space surrounded by tall buildings. The organizers apparently shifted the venue at the last moment from the neighborhood with the crown jewels of the state to the (almost equally iconic) broad, open traffic circle plaza. Made for rather impressive drone photos.
Even for a neutral visitor, a not inconsiderable danger, though I stayed ensconced in the rooms, safely above street level on the day itself, after wandering around a bit on the eve of the festival, like a visiting foreign king/yogi wandering the camp before battle. Surrounded by hundreds of thousands caught up in the fury of the world as it appears to be. Hence the Henry James. Following the thought and the tone of a Henry James novel is the precise opposite of the mentality of the protest -- on all sides, including that of the neutral observer caught up in it. Basically, a mind-shaped, Tardis-sized room with walnut wainscotting, oil lamps, and crystal chandeliers amid the strife.
Hegel didn't think much of the beautiful soul--perhaps because he didn't spend enough time talking to Goethe. Live nobly.