The passing of Senator Prince Y. Johnson marks the end of a man whose life embodied both heroism and controversy--a defender and liberator to some, yet to others, a villain--a symbol of pain and suffering.
This duality encapsulates the complexity of Sen. Johnson's life and personality, reflecting the intricate tapestry of motives and actions that drive individuals during times of upheaval. To his supporters, Sen. Johnson was a liberator and a freedom fighter who rose to challenge the brutal repression of his people under the tyrannical regime of the late President Samuel Doe. Unapologetic about his involvement in the war, Sen. Johnson fervently believed his actions were rooted in a just cause--the protection of his ethnic group, the Mano and Gio people of Nimba County.
The Doe regime's violent actions against the people of Nimba thrust Johnson into the limelight--propelling him into a position where he felt compelled to take up arms; in doing so, he forgot his moral obligations and, in the name of liberation, undertook actions that inflicted pain and losses on so many families across Liberia. At the end of the war, Sen. Johnson became one of the "most notorious perpetrators" and was accused of killing, extortion, massacre, torture, and rape, among other charges, as documented in the country's post-war Truth and Reconciliation Committee report.
In a Facebook post, Adama Dempster, a Liberian human rights advocate, therefore expressed regret that Sen. Johnson was unable to testify before a tribunal before he died, saying, "It's sad and has a deep meaning for an accountability process."
One of the many families who wish Sen. Johnson had faced a tribunal for his alleged war crimes is the Berry family. In a Facebook post about a year or two ago, Rufus S. Berry II, MBA, on behalf of the family, in an open letter, publicly accused Sen. Johnson of murdering his elder brother and three sons in cold blood, causing the Berry family so much pain in the process.
Rufus Berry wrote verbatim: "In the midst of our civil war and on the night of my brother Emmanuel and his three boys' brutal murder on your Caldwell Military Base, you held their lives and others in your hands. Although you could have never known the value of what you were holding on when the triggers were pulled, I did from all the way in Northern California and others did as well."
He continued: "Immediately upon hearing about the brutal murder of her husband and three boys, my sister-in-law disappeared and was never seen again; perhaps the pain was too much to bear. My daddy went into a deep depression and never recovered."
Berry's story is just one of many accounts of the alleged atrocities committed by Sen. Johnson or his forces. Victims say these events continue to cause pain and grief, and his passing without ever facing justice for his alleged war crimes adds to their pain and frustration.
The dichotomy of Sen. Johnson's personality reflects the moral ambiguity often present in human conflict, where heroes and villains coexist within the same individual, shaped by circumstances that blur ethical absolutes.
Strikingly, the duality within Sen. Johnson epitomizes the challenges Liberia faces in reconciling its past. The 14 years of civil war, which left deep scars on the country, was not merely a political struggle but a manifestation of deep-seated ethnic tensions that had been simmering beneath the surface and still are.
These divisions continue to cast a long shadow over the nation's efforts to build a cohesive and peaceful society, and yet, they are not being addressed by the political class of the day, who are rather exploiting them for their political games. This creates a serious risk for the country's stability, as the divisions--which continue to reverberate through social media and public discourse, revealing how much work remains in mending the fabric of our society--can once again perpetuate cycles of retribution.
As such, Liberia stands at a crossroads where it must decide how to address its past while forging a path toward a unified future, which can be created via a genuine national dialogue that does not shy away from the painful chapters of our history but confronts them openly. This involves not only recognizing the atrocities committed but also understanding the underlying factors that allowed such divisions to fester.
The conversation must, therefore, be inclusive, giving voice to all ethnic groups, regions, and perspectives. The path to lasting peace and progress lies not in erasing our history but in learning from it--ensuring that the wounds of the past are healed through collective effort. This must be the responsibility of every Liberian--looking beyond divisions and embracing the shared goal of a united and prosperous nation, as reconciliation is not a destination but a journey--one that requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths.
It demands that we listen to one another's stories, validate each other's experiences, and work collaboratively to build a society where future generations are not burdened by the conflicts of the past but are taught about the dangers of division and the value of unity.
Under no circumstance will we as Liberians build a new Liberia and avoid a repeat of the past if the impetus for change does not come from within, and if we do not ensure that the political landscape of the country is not marred by leaders who exploit ethnic and regional differences for personal gain.
This manipulation hinders the nation's progress, making elections more of an ethnic census, where votes are cast based on tribal affiliations rather than policies or visions for the country's future.
As we reflect on the complex legacy and life of Sen. Johnson, let us learn from the mistakes of his generation and commit ourselves to the hard work of nation-building. Let his story serve as both a cautionary tale and a catalyst for change.
In mourning Sen. Johnson's passing, we also have an opportunity to renew our pledge to create a Liberia where economic development and equitable resources become the norm of the day. When communities feel that they have a stake in the nation's prosperity, they are less likely to be swayed by divisive rhetoric. It is time now for us all to strive to create a Liberia where every citizen feels valued and heard, where diversity is celebrated, and where the shadows of division give way to the light of a shared future.
Rest in peace, Senator Prince Y. Johnson. May the complexities of your life story inspire Liberians to seek understanding over judgment so as to avoid the mistakes of your generation that led the country into 14 years of senseless civil war, and may we seek unity over division and peace over conflict.
Robin Dopoe is a former Senior Editor at the Daily Observer newspaper.