“This wasn’t about the medals themselves—it was about the eye contact”
WHEN we talk about leadership, we often get bogged down in policy papers, strategic directives, and high-level briefings.
But as I watched Acting PNP Chief Jose Melencio C. Nartatez Jr. walk through the halls of the United Candelaria Doctors Hospital in Quezon this week, I was reminded that the most potent form of leadership isn’t written—it’s felt.
In the wake of the Dec. 19 encounter in Candelaria—a night that left two of our troopers wounded and cost Patrolman Ron Jay Chavez his life—the Acting Chief didn’t just release a statement from the comfort of Camp Crame. He showed up.
Beyond the “Chain of Command”
There is a specific kind of weight a hospital room holds after a firefight. It is heavy with the scent of antiseptic and the raw adrenaline of survival. When a top commander enters that space, it can either feel like a stiff, bureaucratic formality or a genuine act of brotherhood.
By personally pinning the Medalya ng Sugatang Magiting and the Medalya ng Kadakilaan on our wounded personnel, Nartatez bridged the gap between the “top brass” and the “boots on the ground.”
This wasn’t about the medals themselves—it was about the eye contact. It was about the Acting Chief looking a wounded officer in the face and saying, “I see what you sacrificed, and you will not be left to recover in silence.”
The Weight of the Final Salute
Perhaps the most poignant moment of the visit was the time spent with the late Patrolman Ron Jay Chavez.
To the public, a casualty is often a statistic or a name in a headline. To the PNP, it is a void in the formation.
Seeing the Acting Chief stand beside a fallen officer from the 2nd Quezon Provincial Mobile Force Company sends a ripple effect through the entire organization.
It tells every Patrolman currently walking a beat in a remote barangay that their life has value to the very top of the institution. It transforms the badge from a piece of metal into a pact: if you give your all for the service, the service will honor you to the end.
Leadership by Proximity
The encounter near that banana plantation in Barangay San Isidro was a stark reminder of the volatility of police work. It was a “routine” patrol that turned lethal in seconds.
In times of crisis, an organization looks to its head not just for orders, but for a temperature check. By choosing to be physically present in Quezon, Nartatez demonstrated what I call Leadership by Proximity.
It provides immediate morale: Knowing the “Chief” is in the building validates the struggle of the rank-and-file.
It ensures accountability: It forces the bureaucracy to move faster regarding financial assistance and medical support.
It sets a standard: It shows lower-level commanders that they, too, must be present for their subordinates.
A Message to the Ranks
We often hear the phrase “service with a heart.” Usually, it’s just a slogan on a poster. But when a leader leaves the air-conditioned offices of Manila to stand in a provincial hospital ward, that heart starts to beat.
Acting PNP Chief Nartatez showed us this week that command is not a distant concept. It is a shared burden. In honoring the fallen and tending to the wounded, he reminded every Filipino police officer that they do not stand alone on those dark barangay roads.
That is leadership where it counts. That is the kind of presence that builds an unbreakable force.
(The writer, a doctorate in philosophy degree holder, serves as Chairman Emeritus of four civic oriented organizations: Alyansa ng Bantay sa Kapayapaan at Demokrasya, People’s Alliance for Democracy and Reforms, Liga Independencia Pilipinas, and Filipinos Do Not Yield Movement, where he advocates for truth, stability, and the dignity of the Filipino people.)
