When the Criminal Investigation and Detection Group filed inciting to sedition and inciting to rebellion charges against Cavite 4th District Representative Francisco “Kiko” Barzaga on November 12, the reaction online took three predictable paths.
Some said he must be mentally unstable.
Some echoed Deputy Speaker Ronaldo Puno’s earlier remark that he was “not well.”
Others insisted he shouldn’t be talked about at all because attention only helps him.

I know this might sound odd at first, maybe even uncomfortable, but stay with me for a moment.

These explanations feel convenient.
They make the situation easier to understand, but they also weaken the space for accountability.

The problem is that none of them match the record.

For weeks, Barzaga has moved in ways that can be checked: statements, dates, interviews, filings, rallies, excuses, and responses to pressure. His actions do not resemble someone detached from reality. They show someone who plans, probes, and knows how the system around him reacts.

And under Philippine law, an insanity claim has a strict bar.
A bar he doesn’t meet based on everything available publicly.

Before people settle on labels that offer easy answers, it helps to look at the legal standard first, then place that standard beside the timeline of what he actually did.

That’s where this begins.

The Legal Standard Under Article 12

The law is clear about what qualifies as insanity.
Article 12 of the Revised Penal Code requires a complete loss of reason at the exact moment the act was committed. Not eccentric behavior. Not online theatrics. Not emotional swings. The standard is total absence of understanding.

The Supreme Court has repeated this for years.
In G.R. No. 214444, the Court stated that exemption applies only when a person has no grasp of the act and no ability to tell right from wrong while doing it. Anything short of that does not qualify.

Even people with documented psychiatric conditions rarely meet this threshold.
Judges presume sanity unless there is clear medical proof of total collapse at the moment in question. The rule was designed that way to prevent abuse.

So before anyone suggests that insanity explains Barzaga’s behavior, the law requires us to compare this standard with what he actually did.

The Timeline and Why It Matters

The timeline matters because it is the only objective way to measure intent.
Labels like “insane” or “not well” are opinions.
A chronological record is evidence.
If a person is truly detached from reality, the sequence of their actions will show disorder, gaps, or decisions that contradict basic awareness.
If a person understands what they are doing, the pattern will show planning, timing, and reactions that match the situation around them.

That is why the timeline is central here.
It removes guesswork and reduces everything to verifiable moves.

Legal insanity is tested through actions, not impressions.
The only reliable way to evaluate the claim is to look at what Barzaga did, when he did it, and how he responded at every step.
Each move he made has a record: dates, posts, videos, interviews, formal filings, public explanations, and official reactions.
A sequence like this shows whether a person acted with intent and awareness or whether they were detached from the reality in front of them.

Everything that follows comes from those records.

September 10 — Resignation from NUP and Majority Bloc

Barzaga announced he was leaving the National Unity Party and the House majority bloc. He gave specific reasons, claimed he was falsely accused of plotting against Speaker Martin Romualdez, and immediately raised questions about flood control projects under Romualdez’s oversight.

September 16 — Public Claim to “Take” the Speakership

He told reporters he intended to “take” the speakership from Romualdez.
He mentioned Majority Leader Sandro Marcos, discussed political alignments, and named people he expected would oppose or support him.

September 21 — Martial Law Anniversary Actions

Days before the anniversary, he urged soldiers and reservists to join anti-corruption demonstrations.
He posted a photo of himself in uniform while making these calls.
The Philippine Army delisted him that same day, stating his posts violated military regulations.
His choice of date matched the historical weight of September 21.

September 24 — “Coup d’état” Against Speaker Dy

After Romualdez stepped down and Bojie Dy was elected Speaker, Barzaga admitted he tried to mount a “coup d'état” in the House.
He publicly named Toby Tiangco as the person he wanted installed.

September 25 — Abstains in Speakership Vote

During the formal vote, he chose to abstain.
Another deliberate move, not a sign of confusion.

October 8 — Filing the Impeachment Complaint

He posted a video announcing he was filing an impeachment complaint against President Marcos for betrayal of public trust tied to flood control issues.
He held up a document he said was the complaint.

October 12 — Anti-Marcos Protest in Forbes Park

He led a protest in Forbes Park aimed at the residences of top officials.
Organizing a protest in that exact location required planning and intent.

October 13 — Ethics Hearing Absence and the Gaming Excuse

He missed the morning session of his own ethics hearing.
He later told reporters he stayed up late playing computer games.
He arrived eventually, and Interior Secretary Abalos said the absence “may be taken against him.”

Statements from His Mother

Dasmariñas Mayor Jenny Barzaga asked the House to lessen her son’s responsibilities because of his “unethical behavior online.”
This showed family concern, not legal incapacity.

Mental Health and Medical Privacy Statements

When pressed about his mental state, he denied any serious condition.
He said medical records are confidential and would be released only under a court order.
This shows understanding of privacy laws and procedure.

November 12 — Posting the CIDG Subpoena

After receiving the CIDG subpoena for sedition and rebellion, he posted it on Facebook.
He tagged President Marcos and referenced Marcos Sr.’s history.
This was escalation, not confusion.

Persona and Social-Media Strategy

Deputy Speaker Puno cited his “lewd photos” and displays of money bundles as part of the ethics complaint.
His “Congressmeow” persona and daily posting pattern — sometimes dozens a day — show deliberate engagement tactics.
These are consistent behaviors, not signs of impaired reasoning.

Taken together, these actions don’t resemble confusion.
The next section explains why the law won’t support the insanity claim.

Why an Insanity Defense Cannot Stand

After laying out the timeline, the next step is simple: test it against the law.
Article 12 requires proof of a complete break in reasoning at the moment of the act.
Nothing in the record supports that.

Barzaga refuses to release medical records unless a court orders him to do so.
Without medical evidence, the presumption of sanity stays.
That alone already blocks the insanity claim, but the rest of the record goes even further.

His public statements show clear awareness of his situation.
He knows what confidentiality means.
He understands that only a court can compel disclosure.
He explains his actions in interviews.
He recalls events in detail and ties them to specific motives.

His decisions also show intent.
He chooses dates that carry meaning.
He names targets.
He files documents that require knowledge of procedure.
He adjusts his moves based on what institutions do or fail to do.

None of this fits the legal standard of total loss of reason.
The law demands proof of collapse at the exact moment of each act.
What we see instead is a consistent pattern of decisions made with awareness of their consequences.

That is why the insanity claim cannot stand.

The Protected Environment Inside the House

Once you remove the insanity claim, what remains is the environment that allows Barzaga to move this way.
The House has an ethics complaint against him, filed on September 15.
It includes lewd photos, displays of wealth, and posts that members described as seditious.
Instead of firm action, a reconciliation subcommittee was formed.
Both sides rejected reconciliation, and nothing happened after that.

He missed the morning session of his ethics hearing.
He later said he stayed up late playing computer games.
He arrived eventually, and Interior Secretary Abalos said the absence “may be taken against him,” but no consequences followed.

Meanwhile, the military acted quickly.
They delisted him from the reserve force on the day he posted himself in uniform while calling for soldiers to join protests.
The contrast is clear: one institution moved, the other stayed still.

Inside the House, discipline requires a two-thirds vote for suspension or expulsion.
That threshold is rarely reached.
The Ombudsman cannot remove sitting members.
Parliamentary immunity shapes how members see themselves and how they treat each other.
Accountability becomes a matter of internal will, not external pressure.

This kind of structure creates space for someone like Barzaga to keep going.
Not because he is unstoppable, but because the institution responsible for checking him chooses not to act.

This is the pattern that appears long before you look at any other case.

The Pulong Duterte Case: Another Example of House Silence

A clear example of how the House responds to its own members played out months before Barzaga’s string of incidents.
In early May 2025, Congressman Paolo “Pulong” Duterte was accused of assaulting a local businessman, Kristone John Patria, inside a Davao City bar.
The complaint filed with the Department of Justice described headbutts, punches, slaps, kicks, and threats with a knife.
Security cameras were reportedly turned off during the incident.

According to the complaint, the confrontation began when Duterte summoned a “bugaw” and demanded women for his bodyguards.
When the arrangement did not proceed the way he wanted, the situation escalated.
Patria claimed Duterte handed him ₱1,000 for each hit, as if the assault could be treated like a transaction.

Pulong Duterte is married.
His wife, January Navares Duterte, is a barangay official.
The allegations raised questions far beyond the bar incident: violence, infidelity, solicitation, and abuse of authority.

The case did not stay quiet.
Local and national media obtained details from the complaint.
Commentary spread on social media.
The DOJ confirmed receiving the charges for physical injuries and grave threats.

In most institutions, this would trigger an ethics inquiry.
In Congress, nothing happened.
No House member filed a complaint.
Officials said no such complaint had reached them.
Even as the story circulated widely, the House took no steps to review Duterte’s conduct.

There was no censure.
No inquiry.
No reprimand.
No public call for accountability from his colleagues.

The court process moved on its own timeline, but inside the House, the response was silence.
For powerful or well-connected members, that silence has become standard.

The Pulong Duterte case showed that even a violent incident supported by a criminal complaint, witness accounts, and public scrutiny does not guarantee movement inside the institution.
It explained, long before Barzaga’s behavior escalated, why members can act without fear of internal consequences.

This is the context surrounding Barzaga.
The House did not move for conduct far worse.
There was no reason to expect it would move for him.

The Marcoleta Parallel: A Second Case Showing the Same Pattern

Another example of institutional hesitation sits in the case of Senator Rodante Marcoleta and his Statement of Contributions and Expenditures.

Marcoleta reported ₱112.8 million in campaign spending during the May 2025 elections while declaring ₱0 in contributions.
His net worth, based on his SALN, is ₱51.9 million.
When questioned about the mismatch, he did not deny the numbers.
He challenged his critics to identify the exact law he violated.

The Omnibus Election Code requires candidates to file complete and truthful SOCEs.
The certification section of the form requires them to swear that all entries are accurate.
Spending a nine-figure amount with no declared donors raises possible violations ranging from falsification to perjury.
But the institutional response followed the same slow pattern seen in other cases.

COMELEC said it would “look into it.”
Later, it said it would “review” the documents.
After that, it said it would “study” how to request his SALN.
By mid-November, nothing concrete had taken place.
Marcoleta remained in the Senate, facing no charges and no sanctions.

Watchdog groups raised concerns.
Kontra Daya noted that the SOCE did not appear truthful.
Instead of focusing on the discrepancy, COMELEC broadened the review to include all SOCEs from the 2025 elections.
Expanding the scope diluted the attention on Marcoleta’s filing.

Around the same time, the Independent Commission Against Corruption endorsed cases involving senators named in flood control anomalies.
House members named in the same testimony faced no similar action.
The uneven response underscored a broader issue: institutions move carefully when their decisions affect members of Congress.

Marcoleta’s situation is different from Barzaga’s, but the behavior of the system around them is the same.
High-spending declarations with zero donors lead to slow reviews.
Clear inconsistencies trigger cautious statements rather than direct action.

This is what protection looks like when institutions hesitate.
It gives public officials room to test how far they can go, confident that the process will move slowly, if at all.

The next section explains how this environment shapes Barzaga’s behavior.

The Handler Angle: This Behavior Does Not Look Spontaneous

Senator Panfilo Lacson said in October that Barzaga was being used for a “self-seeking political agenda.”
Whether or not the details are known, the comment points to one thing: Barzaga’s actions benefit someone other than himself.

The sequence of events supports that idea.
When he left the majority on September 10, he immediately linked his exit to accusations involving flood control projects.
Six days later, he was openly talking about taking the speakership.
When that failed, he shifted to targeting the President.
His moves lined up with ongoing issues inside the House—particularly questions raised in the flood control hearings.

The timing suggests coordination.
Barzaga’s posts and statements were not scattered.
They were aimed at people under pressure from corruption allegations, people involved in House leadership contests, or people shaping the administration’s public image.
Each action created noise at moments when others needed the attention elsewhere.

His online behavior fits this pattern.
The “Congressmeow” persona, the steady stream of posts, the provocations, and the framing of himself as an anti-corruption figure gave him reach quickly.
Disruption became part of his brand, and that disruption served wider interests by shifting public focus.

This does not prove who is behind him, but it shows he is not acting alone.
Someone benefits from the noise he creates.
Someone gains from every diversion, every escalation, and every shift in attention.

Barzaga’s confidence makes more sense when you view him this way.
A person who believes he is alone moves differently.
A person who knows he is insulated and useful moves boldly.

This is the environment he operates in.
And it sets the stage for the next part: the flood control link that triggered many of these moves.

The Flood Control Link: The True Center of the Noise

When you place Barzaga’s moves beside the timeline of the flood control scandal, the pattern becomes clearer.
This was the issue he pointed to the moment he left the majority.
It was the thread he kept pulling even while shifting targets.

The Discaya couple testified in the Senate that at least 17 House members demanded around 25% from flood control projects.
They named names.
They said they had dates, payments, and records.
Their testimony placed pressure squarely on members of the lower house.

That pressure stayed mostly in the Senate because the House did not lift a finger.
No hearings.
No internal review.
No call for answers.

Barzaga then stepped into that silence.
Right after his exit from the majority, he accused Speaker Romualdez of anomalies tied to the same projects.
Days later, he talked about taking the speakership.
When that went nowhere, he filed an impeachment complaint against the President, again using flood control funds as the basis.

Each move landed on the same issue: the flood control mess.

The impeachment complaint had no realistic chance of advancing, but it still served a purpose.
It reframed the scandal.
It turned attention away from House members who were named under oath and toward a spectacle involving the President.
It gave the appearance of anti-corruption action without putting any lower house member at real risk.

This is where Barzaga’s usefulness becomes obvious.
While the Senate scrutinized contractors, budgets, and alleged kickbacks, the House avoided the topic entirely.
Barzaga created noise loud enough for some people to claim the issue was already being “addressed,” even when nothing inside the House was actually moving.

The timeline shows it plainly.
Every time flood control questions surfaced, Barzaga escalated elsewhere.
New controversy, new statement, new distraction.
And every time, the House stayed untouched.

This was never random.

It was cover.

The Real Danger Isn’t Barzaga — It’s the House That Allows Him to Operate This Way

After everything laid out in the record, the real threat isn’t the noise Barzaga creates or the persona he performs.
It’s the lower house that watches all of this and decides to do nothing.

For weeks, they had reason to intervene:
ethics complaints, public outcry, the gaming excuse, the uniform incident, the call for soldiers to join protests, the impeachment theatrics, the escalating language, and finally, the criminal charges.
Any of these should have triggered real action inside a chamber that claims to uphold standards.

Instead, they formed subcommittees, held partial hearings, and quietly waited for the noise to pass.
No suspension.
No formal demand for accountability.
Not even a unified call to address the impact of his statements on the institution itself.

It’s the same pattern we saw with Pulong Duterte’s bar fight.
It’s the same hesitation shown in the flood control scandal.
It’s the same instinct that protected Marcoleta after his SOCE admission.

Barzaga behaves with confidence because he knows the institution around him rarely uses its own teeth.
They guard each other, even when it damages public trust.
They hesitate, even when someone crosses lines that would end the career of any ordinary worker in any ordinary workplace.

People keep asking:
Is he unstable?
Is he trolling?
Is he being used?
Should we stop talking about him?

All of these questions miss the point.

A member can only move this boldly when he’s certain the floor beneath him won’t collapse.
The danger is the steady silence from colleagues who know what’s happening and refuse to deal with it.

Barzaga will face his hearings, his cases, and whatever comes next.
But the institution he serves in has already shown what it’s capable of tolerating.

That’s the part we should be paying attention to.

The Institutional Pattern That Makes All of This Possible

Look at these cases long enough — Barzaga’s ethics issues, Pulong Duterte’s bar assault, Marcoleta’s SOCE admission — and a familiar rhythm starts to surface.
Each story comes from a different corner of Congress, yet the reactions inside both chambers follow the same quiet playbook.

Inside the House, complaints slow down the moment they land.
Hearings stretch for weeks.
Committees form, talk, and eventually lose momentum.
The public pays attention for a while, then the headlines fade, and the issue sinks with them.

The Senate has its own version of this slowdown.
Marcoleta openly said he didn’t declare his donors.
COMELEC promised to study the matter.
The Senate’s ethics committee stayed quiet.
No inquiry.
No hearing.
No urgency, even after a public admission that would end a regular employee’s career in one afternoon.

Different chambers.
Same reluctance to confront one of their own.

You can trace that same behavior in the flood control testimony.
Seventeen names appeared in sworn statements, and yet no member faced an expulsion vote.

The response to Pulong Duterte followed the same pattern.
Police reports, witness accounts, public outrage — still no move from the House ethics committee.

And that’s the environment Barzaga works in every day.
He watches what happens when colleagues step into trouble.
He sees how long processes take, how often committees stall, and how rarely either chamber decides to draw a red line.

It forms a kind of habit inside the institution.
Once the noise fades, the member survives the scandal simply by remaining still.
Everything slows down for them, not because the misconduct is minor, but because Congress has lived with this rhythm for years.

This habit is what gives someone like Barzaga room to keep pushing.
Not brilliance.
Not confusion.
Just the confidence that the institution around him rarely acts when it matters.

Where This Leaves Us

After weeks of tracking each turn in this story, one thought keeps coming back.
People spent so much time debating labels, motives, and personal quirks, yet none of those arguments touched the deeper issue sitting in plain sight.

Barzaga made enough noise to dominate the news cycle, but the chamber around him barely moved.
Complaints slowed down.
Hearings stretched.
The silence inside the House carried more weight than any statement he posted.
The Senate behaved in a similar way when trouble landed on its side of the fence.
Different events, same hesitation.

That kind of response becomes a quiet lesson.
Lawmakers learn that a controversy can be survived through waiting.
They learn that attention fades long before accountability takes shape.
They learn that institutions protect their own, even when the public is watching.

Everything laid out here shows how far the situation went without a clear internal response.
This turned into a record of what the chamber tolerated while the rest of us were focused on the noise he created.

I’m closing the topic here because the pattern is already complete.
Once the pattern is visible, the story naturally expands beyond one person.

So that’s the pattern and the problem I see.
What do you see?