The story of the election is so intriguing that Bloomberg columnist William Pesek Jr. compares it to Oliver Stone's conspiracy-laced films.

In his column, Pesek suggested, "The director of JFK, Nixon and The People Vs. Larry Flynt might be wise to start working on a flick titled Taiwan's Bulletgate."

Just one day before the election, Democratic Progressive Party presidential candidate Chen Shui-bian, who is also the current president, was shot while riding with his running mate in an open-top jeep. Chen wasn't sent to the closest hospital but to a hospital whose chairman is a vocal supporter of his, causing Chen's opposition to question whether the shooting was staged.

The government called for a state of emergency, which kept at least 200,000 military officers and police officers from voting. The next day, after the central election committee ruled 330,000 ballots invalid, Chen won the election by 30,000 votes—a 0.2 percent margin.

Conspiracy theories have been raging since. Chen's opponent demanded a recount of the ballots. Supporters of the opposition party, the Kuomintang, filed a lawsuit to challenge the legality of the presidency, and American investigators were invited to Taiwan to investigate the shooting.

The reaction of the Taiwanese here in Cupertino and Sunnyvale is starting to gather momentum.

Coalitions have formed locally to support or oppose Chen. Thousands of Taiwanese immigrants went to San Francisco to protest the election results. Friends, families and co-workers—who expected to reconcile after the election—have remained divided. Actually, some of them haven't talked to each other since Taiwan's previous election four years ago.

Former Cupertino Union School District board member Barry Chang is among the 2,000-plus people in the Bay Area who purchased plane tickets to fly 13 hours to vote in Taiwan's presidential election. (Some immigrants are dual citizens of the U.S. and Taiwan.)

Chang, who recently returned from Taiwan, said he was scolded by his parents and sister for not voting for Chen. One of his friends even threatened to hurt him because he spoke publicly in newspapers and on television to demand an investigation of the attack on Chen and challenge the legality of the executive order that barred police and military officers from voting.

"There are too many mysteries about the election," said Chang. "I feel sad that my parents and younger sister denounce me for my political belief, but I have to stand for what I believe. I cannot keep my mouth shut."

Although he decided to leave the school board to focus on his career and family, Chang, a real estate broker, spent his weekends protesting in San Francisco instead of meeting his clients. He and his friend David Tsang, a venture capitalist, recently established the organization the Chinese American Alliance for Democracy in Taiwan that is calling on the international community to scrutinize Taiwan's politics. The week-old organization already has more than 20 members.

Tsang, who left Taiwan when he was 16, renewed his Taiwan passport and voted in Taiwan's election for the first time.

"I've always cared about Taiwan's progress," Tsang, 61, said. "I feel very sad that the DPP pushed Taiwan in the direction of ethnic division and used that to win votes."

Most of the DPP supporters are native Taiwanese (whose ancestors came from mainland China hundreds of years ago), while many members of the opposition, the Kuomintang, arrived in Taiwan when the Chinese Communists took over the mainland in 1949. Although native Taiwanese make up 84 percent of the population and people born in China 14 percent, the Kuomintang ruled Taiwan for 50 years. In 2000, Taiwan underwent its first peaceful transfer of power, from the Nationalists to the Democratic Progressive Party.

To get more media exposure for his organization, Chang sought the help of Ignatius Ding, a retired Hewlett-Packard engineer who in 2000 filed and won a class-action lawsuit on behalf of people who were forced into labor or prostitution by the Japanese during World War II.

Ding said he didn't follow Taiwan's politics, but he pitched in when Chang asked him for guidance. "It is about justice. It is hard to know the truth of the assassination attempt, but based on my research, the executive order [to stop the election] is definitely unconstitutional," Ding, 60, said. "The independent movement will die in the water."

But for DPP supporters like Kuo-hsin Chang and Frank Hong, Chen's victory is a boost to Taiwan's movement toward independence.

Chang, an electrical engineer, and Hong, owner of the Formosa Restaurant in Cupertino, led a group of 50 people from the Bay Area to vote in Taiwan. They rented a tour bus and campaigned for Chen over the entire island for five days.

"I campaigned for A-bian [Chen's nickname] when I ate at the food stand. I campaigned for him when I had a haircut at the barbershop. I campaigned for him when I went shopping at the night market," Chang, 43, said. Chang feels so passionate about the election that he has heated debates with his relatives at family gatherings.

Chang says the assassination was not staged and urged Chen's opponent to accept Chen's victory.

"The previous ruling party [the Kuomintang] taught people a false idea of democracy. Once I came to the United States, I realized the democracy I was taught in Taiwan was not real democracy," Chang said. "Those who don't support Taiwan's independence are brainwashed. Taiwan is a sovereign country, not a part of China."

Hong, a former Taiwanese politician, spoke at campaign assemblies every night when he was in Taiwan. "The assemblies I went to were small, with only 2,000 people. Most campaign activities boasted 500,000 participants. Like football games, you needed to go early to reserve a good seat," Hong said.

"I was exhausted but happy. I feel I made a difference," Hong said.