*Dr. Rodolfo John Ortiz Teope, PhD, EdD
Not many people know that during my elementary, high school, and college
years, I played chess in what some might call a “nerdy” way. I joined
tournaments, won matches, and proudly brought home trophies and medals. However, I
never pursued chess as a lifelong career. Instead, I chose to focus on my
studies and academic growth. Occasionally I wonder—had I devoted myself fully to
the game, perhaps I could have followed in the footsteps of my idol, Asia’s
first Grandmaster, Eugene Torre. But the Torre I will be discussing here is not
him.
As a hopeless romantic chessmaster wannabe, I keep
returning to the Torre Attack in chess—1.d4 Nf6 2.Nf3 e6 3.Bg5—not as just a
sequence of moves, but as a philosophy. It’s an opening that builds quietly:
pieces slide into place, tension grows beneath calm surfaces, and in one moment,
everything crystallizes in precision. Carlos Torre Repetto transformed patience
into art in his 1925 “Mexican Immortal” against Emanuel Lasker, giving up his
queen to unleash a mesmerizing windmill of checks (Mexico News Daily, 2025).
That marriage of careful buildup and confident execution reminds me, time and
again, of General Nicolas Torre III’s leadership of the Philippine National
Police (PNP).
As CIDG chief, Torre presided over moments that had been
deemed unthinkable. First, there was the relentless hunt for Apollo Quiboloy in
Davao—a 16-day siege around a 30-hectare compound involving thousands of
officers, culminating in the surrender of the self-styled “Son of God” (Inquirer.net, 2025; Philstar.com, 2024). The operation was praised as
meticulously planned, bravely executed, and courageous under fire—a rare
convergence of strategy, discipline, and resolve.
Then came Torre’s role in one of the most symbolic arrests
in Philippine history: former President Rodrigo Duterte. Acting swiftly on an
ICC arrest warrant, Torre calmly oversaw a 12-hour confrontation at the
airport. Duterte resisted—refusing to be fingerprinted, threatening legal action, and even declaring, “You have to kill me to bring me to The Hague.” Yet the
officer held his ground, preserving composure under ceaseless pressure, until
Duterte was escorted onto the flight bound for the court (AP News, 2025).
But if the Torre Attack and Torre’s leadership echo each
other in strategy and execution, they also share vulnerabilities. The Torre
Attack can be anticipated; a prepared rival may defuse its structure with early
counterplay—…d5 or …Ne4—and force the opening off its secure path (Chess.com, 2023). Similarly, General Torre’s
reliance on poise over politics risks appearing passive when quick,
unconventional action is needed. The gracious toughness that wins a draw in
chess may leave a real-world crisis hanging if the table refuses to wait.
During the Quiboloy operation, not all was frictionless
admiration. Complaints were filed—under claims of violation of domicile,
interruption of worship, grave threats, and even administrative misconduct.
Sedition charges weren’t limited to the preacher but reached into his legal
support network (Philstar.com, 2024; Manila Bulletin, 2024). These
are not small details: they mark the tension between swift justice and
procedural fragility.
Even the Duterte arrest—marked by courage—was not without
human friction. Torre himself confirmed that one of his officers was struck by
a cellphone during the standoff; Duterte’s companions hurled insults, resisted
booking, and slowed the operation (AP News, 2025). Torre did not escalate;
instead, he maintained authority in the face of provocation—yet the moment
remains a reminder: dignity in command is tested by chaos, and the margin for
error is thin.
Then came the curious episode of the boxing challenge with
Sebastian “Baste” Duterte. A fistfight, initially presented as viral bravado,
transformed into a charity bout to aid flood victims. Torre accepted, trained
visibly, and was declared winner by default when Duterte failed to show
(Wikipedia-derived match summary, 2025; Philstar summary in product-free
source). It was daring. It was human. It was playful—and it also revealed an
occasional dance between operational authority and political theater.
I’ve witnessed Torre’s strengths firsthand—his refusal to
bend to influence, his meticulous planning, his elbow-deep immersion in the
hardest parts of policing. Yet I’ve also seen him weather criticism for hosting
a road rage press conference that thrust him into controversy. He resigned soon
after (Philstar.com, 2025), demonstrating that not even the
most careful leader is immune to misstep.
Through all of this, one thing holds fast: both the Torre
Attack and Torre himself rely on trust. As a chess player, I trust the opening
because its logic endures. As a citizen, I trust Torre because he binds justice
to restraint and empathy to execution. Even critics—many online—remark with awe
and respect at the courage it takes to arrest figures like Quiboloy and
Duterte. One observer on Reddit put it bluntly: “Very few people in the world
can say they arrested two of the world’s most infamous sociopaths… he literally
smoked and captured Apollo Quiboloy like a rat” (Reddit community praise,
2025).
But that praise isn’t unconditional. Others warn that the PNP as an institution has long struggled with accountability and human rights. Torre’s challenge isn’t just in executing bold missions but in steering an organization with weighty systemic baggage toward reform—turning isolated triumphs into sustained integrity.
Modesty aside, there’s a stunning paradox at the heart of leadership and
chess: restraint wields more power than force. The pin on f6, the bishop,
quietly aligned—control surfaces from collected structure. The same is true in law enforcement, just as it is in life. General Nicolas Torre III stands at the helm
wielding quiet strategy, tempered strength, and thoughtful humanity.
Yet the truest test isn’t in the calm—but in the storm. Can
restraint adapt when frenzy arrives? Can discipline flex when chaos demands
improvisation? Torre’s legacy—or my trust in him—depends on how he answers that
question. Because both on the chessboard and in the streets of this nation, the
best plans are never finished—they must evolve, like leaders, by staying
steady, humble, and brave as the moments call.
References
AP News. (2025, March 13). Duterte refused fingerprinting
and threatened lawsuits during chaotic arrest, Philippine police say.
Chess.com. (2023). The Torre Attack: Overview and
common counters. Retrieved from https://www.chess.com/openings/Torre-Attack
Inquirer.net. (2025, September 9). Torre’s new
assignment came two weeks after he led a relentless 16-day operation that
resulted in the arrest of Quiboloy…
Mexico News Daily. (2025, July 7). Shooting-star: The story
of Mexico’s first chess grandmaster.
Philstar.com. (2024, September 25). Davao’s top cop,
who led Quiboloy’s arrest, named CIDG chief.
Philstar.com. (2025, May 29). Torre, the cop behind
Rody Duterte and Quiboloy arrests, is now PNP chief.
Philstar.com. (2024, September 9). Duterte, Quiboloy
supporters file criminal raps vs Abalos, PNP execs.
Manila Bulletin. (2024, October 17). PNP-CIDG files sedition
cases vs. Quiboloy’s lawyer and KOJC members.
