“This Is Not a Circus. This Is a Country.”
The recent verbal slugfest between Davao City Mayor Sebastian “Baste” Duterte and Philippine National Police Director General Nicolas Torre III has devolved into more than just a personal feud. It has become a reflection of the disturbing state of leadership culture in the Philippines—one where posturing takes precedence over policy, and ego eclipses service.
From the outset, the so-called “bout” was never really about honor or justice. It was—and remains—a populist performance disguised as strength, a sideshow disguised as governance. And while the public may feast on the spectacle, the nation’s dignity bleeds quietly in the background.
The Mayor’s Dare: A Test of Power, Not of Principles
Mayor Baste Duterte’s open challenge to General Torre was not an act of courage, but of calculated bravado. By framing the conflict as a street fistfight—with no rules, no rounds, and no ring—he deliberately abandoned any notion of civility or professionalism. Instead, he played straight into the optics of machismo, pandering to the most primal instincts of public perception.
Who, in their right mind, challenges a sitting police general—known to have trained in boxing during his cadet years—to a brawl in the rain? What purpose does such a dare serve, beyond ego gratification and populist appeal?
This was not a call for accountability. It was a spectacle aimed at distraction. A public provocation meant to obscure the absence of coherent leadership in the wake of tragedy.
In the 1980s, such behavior would have sparked public outcry from every corner of civil society—from universities and parishes to the editorial desks of national dailies. Today, it has been reduced to content for virality and clickbait.
General Torre’s Refusal:
Not Cowardice, But Discipline
General Nicolas Torre III refused to be drawn into Duterte’s arena—and rightly so. Instead of answering with fists, he responded with structure. He proposed a regulated boxing match, with proceeds going to victims of recent natural disasters. He attempted to turn an insult into opportunity; a showdown into a service.
And yet, critics were quick to dismiss him. To mock his reluctance. To call his proposal a “cop-out.” But what they failed to see—or chose to ignore—is that Torre’s restraint was not weakness. It was professionalism. It was a rare moment of maturity in a political environment addicted to showmanship.
When Torre declined additional conditions such as the mayor’s demand for hair-follicle drug testing of all elected officials—including, of course, Torre’s superiors—he was not evading scrutiny. He was refusing to dignify a charade.
Even his admission that he was no longer at his physical peak—“I’m older now, not as strong as before”—was twisted into mockery. But the truth is, it takes greater strength to walk away from a fight than to indulge it. Especially when one is goaded before the entire nation.
Populism alone is not Public Service
Mayor Duterte’s challenge is a classic populist maneuver: escalate conflict, personalize the issue, and present yourself as the righteous warrior of the people. It is the oldest trick in the populist playbook.
But it is Torre’s response that truly aligned with the spirit of public service. He attempted to transform a conflict into a charity event—reframing it as an opportunity to serve, not to settle scores. His proposal may not have won over the crowd, but it upheld the principle that the role of a civil servant is to protect and uplift, not perform.
Critics who sneer at the charitable angle miss the bigger picture. Leadership is not about trading punches. It’s about turning chaos into care. Conflict into compassion. Power into responsibility.
Torre may have lost the media moment, but he retained something far more precious: dignity.
This is not About Two Men
What makes this entire debacle so dangerous is the misconception that it’s just a feud between two individuals. It is not. This is a national shame. A distraction when the country is crying out for coordination, compassion, and competence.
While flood victims remain displaced, and rescue operations require every available hand, the public sees its leaders engaged in a chest-thumping contest. Police resources are being diverted for video shoots of push-ups in the rain, makeshift ring setups, and press briefings about challenges that have nothing to do with the public’s urgent needs.
This is not leadership. It is theatre. And the Philippines—once again—is made the punchline on the world stage.
The Real Fight is for the Country’s Soul
If Mayor Duterte truly believes in service, let him outgovern Torre, not outpunch him. Let him bring faster aid to storm-stricken communities, enhance local governance, and lead his city with clarity and compassion.
And if General Torre continues to resist the call to perform for the cameras, then he must be commended—not condemned. His silence in the face of provocation is not weakness; it is a reminder that public service is not about pride, but purpose.
This country does not need another fistfight.
It needs a reset.
It needs dignity.
It needs leaders who know the difference between fighting for people and fighting for attention.
This is not a playground.
This is not a ring.
This is a republic.
Let the nation treat it as such.