To understand the "severity" of the "hunger strike" at CKS Memorial Hall, now in its ninth day, look no further than the guy selling sausages at the curbside. Here you'll find a ring of men chewing the fat, as it were, about how Taiwan's nascent democracy is in peril and the economy has tanked.
"In a mature democracy, when something is unfair or the people make a mistake, there are laws to correct it," one man said.
PHOTO: DAVID MOMPHARD, TAIPEI TIMES
"A mature democracy would never have elected Chen Shui-bian," said another.
As they commiserate, others stand in the circle nodding in grimaced agreement. They seem to search their minds for a new way to articulate what has been shouted, chanted and posted on placards in this area of the capital for the past three weeks: A feeling that they have somehow been cheated and denied the truth.
Their vitriol is tempered as they eat sausages and through an abiding belief that the students in nearby tents who are refusing food have an innate understanding of the nation's problems. If Taiwan's democracy is immature, they say, it will eventually mature with its youth.
That may require a bit of growing on the part of the young protesters, whose five demands have been called an emotional response to the outcome of last month's presidential election and the shootings of President Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁) and Vice-President Annette Lu (呂秀蓮) that preceded it. Rather than making concrete demands, the students are largely petitioning for apologies.
They claim to be an apolitical group, but their appeals have proven to be less than broadly appealing. Where their biases have become apparent, they've tried to mask them.
The second of their five demands, for example, was recently amended to expand the scope of the independent investigation into the March 19 shootings (A case which already has some the world's best forensic investigators working on it.) Now the demand says the investigating committee could also look into the 1980 murders of Lin I-hsiung's (林義雄) family, and the 1981 death of writer and democracy activist Chen Wen-cheng (陳文成).
The committee could also, they say, investigate the 228 Incident -- 57 years later.
Their self-described hunger strike has all the trappings of a protest. Banners cover every available surface. A microphone is open to anyone who has something (or nothing) to say. A man with a guitar leads an endless chorus of We Shall Overcome. A lyrics sheet complete with a short bio of Joan Baez is available at the volunteer desk.
The area in which the students sit has been cordoned off with a red plastic ribbon to which supporters have tied messages wishing the protesters well. Others have laid flowers along the perimeter. A sign hanging in front of the strikers and in prominent view of television cameras records the number of hours the strikers have thus far endured. It's changed every hour on the hour.
How many people are striking?
"Right now? I'm not sure," said a lead volunteer who refused to give her name.
No one can keep the numbers straight for all the people coming and going. Groups of students spend 12-hour periods at the protest site refusing to eat, then leave for the night and go about their regular schedules -- and dietary regimens -- until returning the next day.
A core group of eight took up their task with more seriousness; some of them have refused food for nearly a week and a couple of them have even refused water for days at a time. No one has gone all nine days of the "hunger strike" without nourishment.
Nonetheless, when the Presidential Office late last week extended an invitation to the students to meet with Chen on Monday, April 12, the invitation was turned down.
"According to international cases, our appeals should be addressed after six days of a hunger strike," said student spokesperson Chen Cheng-feng (陳政峰). He might want to check his facts.
Advocates of "tax honesty" in the US have previously gone on hunger strike with little or no acknowledgement from the government or media. Members of the Irish Republican Army went on hunger strike in 1981 demanding to be accorded political prisoner status. By mid-August of that year, 10 men had starved themselves to death, each of them languishing for as much as two months. Their demands were never met.
Hunger strikers who have their requests addressed within a week are the exception, not the rule. According to the International Committee of the Red Cross, most hunger strikers go longer than a week before even receiving medical attention. Not so with the students at the memorial hall, who are being attended to by on-site medical
personnel.
One of the core group of protesters whose commitment those paramedics were taking seriously was Chen Hsin-ju (陳信儒), who claimed on Thursday afternoon to have gone without food since April 2 and without water for the past two days.
Asked by the Taipei Times how he was feeling, Chen nodded affirmatively. Asked how long he would continue if their demands were not met, he said nothing. Twenty minutes later he fainted and was sent by ambulance to Taiwan University Hospital. A clerk in the emergency ward said Chen had checked out at 7pm that same evening. He returned to the memorial hall briefly the next morning to offer support to his classmates.
The students say their ultimate goal is to force a groundswell of popular support. But there are indications that their efforts may be achieving the opposite result. A look at Internet chat rooms shows they may have more detractors than supporters. Rather than gaining in importance, the story is moving back in the pages of the daily
newspapers.
"I don't think they know what they're doing," said one passerby. "Everyone wants to know about the shooting, but you have to wait for the investigation. ... I think they just want attention."
They're getting it in spades from family and friends and the dozens of sympathetic supporters who have come out to the memorial hall to keep vigil.
"Oh, how pitiful!" said one of these woman as Chen Hsin-ju went to hospital.
She's right, he's missing out on some good sausages.
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