FRANCE: A life and death contest over immigration is being played out in a French gymnasium,writes Lara Marlowe in Cachan
If it weren't for the small crowd of immigrants, reporters, and volunteer aid workers on the pavement outside, you wouldn't even notice the ironically named Belle Image school gymnasium. Yet it is here, 15 minutes by train from central Paris, that a life and death contest of wills over French immigration policy is being played out.
Two of six hunger-strikers in critical condition were taken to hospital this week. The other four lie on mattresses in the boys' changing room. "Will people have to die before the government, namely Nicolas Sarkozy [the interior minister] finally care about the squatters of Cachan?" said an editorial in Libération newspaper.
In the National Assembly, Mr Sarkozy accused "irresponsible, politicised associations" of "stoking the misery of the unfortunate."
Mattresses and bundles of belongings are piled up inside the gymnasium. Women plait each others' hair, pick nits from their children's heads. There's a constant noise of television sets, mobile phones and babies crying. It feels like an African village, or a refugee camp. Empty crates and drying laundry fill the courtyard. Local volunteers hand out mineral water, milk, baby formula, nappies and ready-meals - all donations.
Some 300 women and children have slept in the gymnasium since August 17th, when 800 French policemen drove them out of the disused university dormitory where they'd been squatting for three years. An additional 200 men come and go during the day, because there is not enough room in the gym.
Before venturing outside, the Africans study the street carefully, looking for police. About 60 have been arrested, of whom 10 have been deported to Africa. I met three of the deportees' wives, all from Mali, with infant children.
"In Africa, there is nothing, nothing, not even food," said Fatoumata Simpara (21). Malians are often employed as cleaners in Paris, and all of the women I spoke to said they could find work, if only they could obtain residence papers.
The handle has been removed from the door of the boys' dressing room to prevent intruders disturbing the hunger-strikers. "Are we going to let them die?" asks the poster above the door, with photographs of the six men. Fear of expulsion from France is so great that two have hidden the lower part of their faces. Women protested when I tried to take their pictures.
"Stop. Silence," is written on the door in blue marker. "Access to this room is reserved for family and medical personnel," says a message from the mayor of Cachan. The door opens from the inside and Othmane Rouane, one of the hunger-strikers, gestures to me to come in.
He can barely raise himself on one elbow. "We drink two litres of water every day, but when you drink it hurts your stomach," he whispers. "I take mineral salts and vitamins - that's all. I am very, very weak. I can no longer get up to walk to the toilet."
Mr Rouane is from Arab north Africa, but does not want to say which country, because it could aid in his deportation. He met his wife, Zhana, while studying to become a pharmacist in Belarus.
They lost all of their furniture and most of their belongings when police raided the squat in the Cachan university dormitory. "Then they put us here, and they bring us food and expect us to eat. I'm not someone who only eats and sleeps. I have my dignity. I'm a human being, not a dog," he says. The door opens and Danielle Mitterrand, the widow of the late French president, exclaims fondly, "Othmane!"
"I am so glad to see you, Madame Mitterrand," says the homeless illegal alien.
Mrs Mitterrand appears to be involved in negotiations to resolve the crisis, along with the head of SOS Racisme and a right-wing member of the European Parliament.
The squatters have refused repeated offers from the right-wing prefect of Seine-et-Marne to lodge the approximately 50 per cent who have residence papers in hotels.
For one thing, the hotels are unsafe; dozens have died in hotel fires in recent years. And the immigrants resist attempts to separate legal from illegal immigrants because they fear Mr Sarkozy will seize the opportunity to deport those in the country illegally.
"We ask for only three things," says a Moroccan immigrant named Driss. "Decent housing, residence papers and school for all the children. The government could do it with a stroke of the pen." Driss holds several university degrees but lost his job at the agriculture ministry six years ago. "They asked for more and more documents to renew my residence papers every year," he explains. "I couldn't get them, so I fell into clandestinity."
Patrice Muller is one of several general practitioners who visits the hunger-strikers. "This is their 44th day," he says. "After 40 days, one sees serious complications. The nervous system is affected, and there can be permanent paralysis. The two who were taken to hospital are suffering from kidney and liver damage." He is visibly upset by their plight. "It's impossible not to let it affect you," he says.
"I'm angry. I'm ashamed. Look at this place: these are the kind of images you see after a natural disaster, an earthquake.
"When I see six people committing suicide before my eyes, it's unbearable. You walk a few metres down the street and normal life recommences. Has the world gone mad?"