No one could ever say Agueda Johnston didn't earn her right to say what she had to say about Chamorro collaborators of the Japanese.
She, like many others, suffered much from the hands of the Japanese during the Occupation, who were aided in part by some Chamorro interpreters from Saipan and Luta, and by some collaborators from Guam.
She was beaten and whipped by the Japanese and made to understand in no uncertain terms that her life was just an inch from being lost if the Japanese came up with harder evidence against her for aiding Tweed, the American fugitive. Besides this, her American husband had been shipped off to prison camp in Japan. He died there due to weakened health.
Yet, Agueda did not yield to the Japanese. Even when she felt it would be better for Tweed to turn himself in, rather than see more Chamorro blood run, Agueda did not turn in Tweed herself, nor did she give the Japanese the information they wanted, despite the beating they gave her.
So it's remarkable that Agueda felt compassion and mercy for those local people who did buckle under the strong arm of the Japanese and who did collaborate.
Agueda wrote, "I am inclined to believe most of those accused of collaborating with the Japs were doing it to protect their own skin."
Agueda claimed to know the names of local people who gave the Japanese information that lead to Chamorro deaths, but "since they (the informants) were victims of severe torture and are no longer in the world, I shall not mention their names."
"There were a few who seemed to lose their good sense; on the other hand, there were those who had no choice. We must remember that one of the greatest tragedies of war is its effect on the human mind. People would do things that in ordinary times they would never think of doing."
And so we see that Agueda, like many others, understood that self-preservation is like the first law of nature. We should not be too hasty in condemning others for it. Agueda also said, "Don't be inclined to believe everything you hear." Right after the war, fingers were quick to be pointed; true or false, rumors abounded and people gossiped. Old scores were eager to be settled. You could get back at a prewar enemy by (falsely) accusing them of collaborating with the Japanese.
Even Agueda admitted that she and her family feigned friendliness to the Japanese in order to save their lives. She said she and her children bowed and smiled to the Japanese so much, it was a game they played, in order to avoid being put on a black list by the Japanese. They used flattery and false promises of cooperation to fool the Japanese.
Agueda, who was responsible for the start of Liberation Day celebrations, saw that observance as not only a day of gratitude for liberation from the Japanese, but as a way the Chamorro people of Guam could bury the bad memories of the Occupation, including any desire for retribution even among each other. She wanted those who had "shown delinquencies" during the war to be forgiven and to be allowed to truly live again.
They say never judge someone until you've walked in their shoes.
Agueda walked in the shoes of those abused by the Japanese. She did not cave in. She could have condemned those who did. But she didn't. And so we see another way of interpreting Liberation Day. It also sought liberation from vengeance and retaliation.
Guam Chamorros accused of collaborating with the Japanese; some Japanese residents of Guam; some Chamorro/Japanese mixed race Guam residents; Chamorros from the Northern Marianas were put by the US in a separate stockade in Agaña Heights (present Naval Hospital grounds) after the war.
