In 1973, during the waning days of the Vietnam War, the archbishop of Guam stood nervously as an envoy of dark military vehicles approached, culminating in a shiny black American-made limousine, the two American flags on the hood flapping in the humid breeze. From his tiny office overlooking Agana Bay, he could see the imposing phalanx of tall military officers striding toward him, their boots clicking on the polished tiles.
The weight of history seemed to press down on his shoulders as he took the pen in hand and signed the document that would officially transfer CHamoru land at Cetti Bay for use as a military ammunition wharf.
His thoughts wandered to his parishioners, the people who looked to him for guidance and protection. They would be disappointed, perhaps even angry, at what they would see as a betrayal. But what choice did he have? The echoes of 1948, when Guam emerged battered and broken from the horrors of Japanese invasion and occupation, rang in his ears.
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Back then, the island’s citizens, weary and impoverished, were in no position to negotiate with the liberating U.S. Marines. That legacy of Guam's capitulation, born out of desperation and necessity, continues to shape the island’s relationship with the United States military.
Not so many years later, not far from the archbishop’s office, Gov. Lou Leon Guerrero would find herself facing a similar moment of reckoning. She would meet with the new leadership at the Marine base, freshly built on prime Ritidian land. The news would be as devastating as it is predictable: her request for $2 billion in funding for a new hospital would be denied.
She would stare incredulously at the men in uniform, trying to process the cold reality that the health and well-being of her people would be, once again, taking a back seat to military priorities.
The situation is not new, but it is no less painful. Guam’s strategic importance to the United States is undeniable, especially in the face of growing tensions in the Indo-Pacific region. But this importance has always come at a cost—one that is borne by the island's people. The transfer of CHamoru land and the denial of essential healthcare funding are just the latest examples of how Guam's needs are often overlooked in the face of broader geopolitical concerns.
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For the people of Guam, these developments are a bitter reminder of the island's precarious position. The land being handed over to the military is not just real estate; it is a vital part of the CHamoru heritage, a living link to the island's past. And the hospital that is so desperately needed is not just a building; it is a lifeline for a community that has long struggled with limited resources and inadequate healthcare.
The archbishop, as he watched the military vehicles pull away, knew that he had done what he believed was necessary for the greater good. But he also knew that this decision, like so many before it, would leave deep scars on the island's collective memory. Guam's relationship with the U.S. military has always been one of unequal power dynamics, and the latest developments only serve to reinforce that uncomfortable truth.
Leon Guerrero, still reeling from the denial of hospital funding, understands this all too well. She knows that Guam's needs are often sidelined in favor of military imperatives, and she fears for the future of her people. The island's strategic value may ensure its security, but it does little to address the day-to-day struggles of those who call Guam home.
As the sun sets over Agana Bay, casting long shadows across the island, the Archbishop reflects on the difficult choices that have been made. The document he signed may secure Guam's place in the American defense strategy, but it also deepens the wounds of a community that has long fought to maintain its identity in the face of overwhelming external pressures. The legacy of capitulation is a heavy burden to bear, and the question remains: How long can Guam continue to pay the price?
Dr. Vince Akimoto practices Family Medicine at the American Medical Clinic. Send feedback to akimotovincent@yahoo.com
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