Torre’s Removal as PNP Chief: A Reformer’s Fall or a Political Purge?
In a move that sparked outrage before the dust could settle, General Nicolas Torre III, the reform-driven Philippine National Police (PNP) chief, was sacked after just three months in office. No laws were broken, no scandals exposed—just a curt order, “effective immediately.” To the public, it wasn’t accountability; it was the system silencing a leader who dared to challenge the status quo. In the Philippines of 2025, people didn’t want another authoritarian cop. They wanted a good one. For a fleeting moment, they thought Torre was it.
A Clash of Authority
Interior Secretary Jonvic Remulla, also the National Police Commission (Napolcom) commissioner, had grown frustrated with Torre’s bold personnel reshuffles. Napolcom’s Resolution 2025-0531 reminded everyone of its authority, stating it “has the power to review, approve, reverse or modify” the PNP chief’s decisions. Remulla downplayed the conflict, telling the press: “There is no sanction. The Napolcom has not taken any sanctions as a body, nor has it been discussed, nor has it been filed. This is a personal decision of the President.”
Yet his tone betrayed personal grievance. Remulla admitted to calling Torre five times that night and several more the next morning—calls Torre ignored. For Remulla, this wasn’t just rudeness; it was defiance.
Torre, however, dismissed the issue as an “administrative matter” to be handled privately. At an August 18 flag-raising at Camp Crame, he introduced his successor, Gen. Banac, and brushed off the spat: “No order, no obstacle, and no challenge can break our unity and our commitment to the nation,” he told officers—a subtle jab at Napolcom widely noted by observers.
Even amid the rift, Torre retained strong support within the PNP. Directors of the PNP’s 18 regional offices signed a manifesto backing Torre and the chain of command, pointedly omitting mention of Napolcom’s directive.
Why Remove a Reformer?
To the public, Torre wasn’t the problem. He was no saint, but in a system plagued by what one local called “asshole pigs,” he represented a rare chance at reform. His refusal to play by the bureaucracy’s rules earned him enemies in Malacañang but won him admiration on the streets.
In his brief tenure since replacing Gen. Marbil on June 2, Torre pushed aggressive reforms: a five-minute response rule for Metro Manila patrols, the dismissal of 19 officers for misconduct, and the removal of eight police chiefs for poor performance. These moves made him a target but also a hero to those craving a cleaner PNP.
Mamamayang Liberal Partylist representative Leila de Lima captured the public’s frustration: “What’s happening?! They better have a good reason in doing that to a very popular, much appreciated and high-performing PNP Chief!”
Torre’s ousting backfired, sparking sympathy rather than compliance. Many saw it as retaliation tied to the Dutertes. Torre had dared to arrest their patriarch, and his removal reeked of revenge dressed as policy. Social media buzzed with Duterte supporters praising the decision, claiming the PNP was “better” under “Digong,” when unrestrained tactics—bereft of due process—were dubbed “efficient.” But at what cost? The war on drugs targeted the poor, red-tagging and harassment silenced dissent, and bigwigs escaped scrutiny until media and activists exposed the rot.
Atty. Wilfredo Garrido didn’t mince words: “The dumbest firing ever. That Marcos Jr. did as told is the dumbest decision ever. This is not going to sit well with the PNP, least of all the public.” He added, “If anyone is to be fired, it should be his detractors who wanted his head. They are all replaceable. Torre comes along only once in a long while, like Halley’s comet. What a shabby way to treat a hero, who has less than a year into his retirement. He is not corrupt. He is not abusive. He is not a threat to anybody in power.”
Netizens echoed the sentiment. One wrote, “Why General Torre? He has been a high-performing, a very popular, much appreciated and high-performing PNP Chief. Why not the officials involved in alleged anomalies in flood control be the ones removed not General Torre.” Another alleged, “There was an insertion of 8B procurement for 5.56cal which General Torre refuse to sign thus prompted DILG Sec to relieve him.” A third called it a “diversionary tactic to kill the issue of massive looting of flood control projects funds & irregular 2024 & 2025 national budget.”
Cracks in the Administration?
Torre’s removal exposed deeper fissures. Lawmakers pounced. Deputy Minority Leader Antonio Tinio declared: “The continuous rigodon and quarrels within the PNP prove the deepening rifts inside the Marcos administration. Rival factions are scrambling for power amid massive corruption, collapsing public services, and worsening poverty.”
Kabataan’s Renee Louise Co was more direct: “This is the classic behavior of authoritarian governments — rival elites battling for control while the people suffer. Swapping chiefs won’t fix the PNP’s rot as an instrument of oppression.”
For the opposition, this wasn’t about discipline but a government eating its own to protect entrenched interests. The public’s demand for reform—tackling corrupt cops, scalawags, and the lack of due process—clashed with a system prioritizing control over efficiency.
A Golden Parachute or a Dead End?
For reality's sake, Torre’s removal feels raw, especially amid swirling controversies: corruption allegations against Sara Duterte, flood control project scandals, and tensions over the West Philippine Sea. His ousting seems less about reform and more about political maneuvering.
Malacañang hinted at a new role for Torre, but questions linger: Is it a position befitting his record, or just a golden parachute to quiet the uproar? Legal barriers may limit his options, but the public’s trust in him remains unshaken. In a system crying for reform, Torre’s exit isn’t just a loss—it’s a warning of how quickly change can be stifled.