Bernie Anabo Jr.
The expulsion of former Cavite Congressman Francisco “Kiko” Barzaga from the House of Representatives is not just controversial—it is a dangerous abuse of power that strikes at the very heart of democracy.
Let us call it what it is: a political execution disguised as disciplinary action.
The House leadership claims that Barzaga deserved expulsion because of his alleged disruptive behavior, disrespect toward colleagues, and repeated violations of parliamentary decorum.
Fine. But where exactly in the Constitution does it say that being stubborn, outspoken, or even offensive is grounds for removing a duly elected representative from office?
The answer is simple: nowhere.
Congress may discipline its members. It may reprimand, censure, suspend, or impose sanctions.
But expulsion is the ultimate penalty, a punishment so severe that it effectively overturns the will of the people who elected that official.
And therein lies the problem.
More than 160,000 voters chose Kiko Barzaga to represent them. Those votes were not cast by House leaders. They were not cast by political blocs.
They were cast by ordinary Filipinos who believed he would fight for their interests.
By removing him, the House did not merely punish one congressman—it silenced the voices of thousands of voters.
If “disruptive behavior” is now the standard for expulsion, then where was this outrage when lawmakers exchanged personal insults on the House floor?
Where was this moral crusade when politicians were dragged into corruption scandals, questionable transactions, and allegations involving millions or even billions of pesos?
Many lawmakers have survived controversies far more serious than bad manners.
Some have faced accusations involving public funds.
Some have displayed lifestyles that raise serious questions about the constitutional requirement that public officials live modestly.
Some have become household names for the wrong reasons.
Yet none of them were expelled.
Why?
Why is Barzaga being treated differently?
Why does the House suddenly discover its moral backbone when dealing with a congressman known for being outspoken and combative?
The answer may be uncomfortable, but it deserves to be asked.
Selective justice is not justice.
When rules are applied only against certain individuals while others enjoy protection, the process becomes political persecution.
The House cannot claim to be defending its integrity while appearing blind to more serious offenses committed by others.
The real danger here is the precedent.
Today it is Kiko Barzaga.
Tomorrow it could be any legislator who refuses to toe the line, challenges the majority, or becomes politically inconvenient.
A Congress that can remove an elected representative on questionable grounds is a Congress that can weaponize discipline against dissent.
That should alarm every Filipino regardless of political affiliation.
Democracy is not supposed to be comfortable. Legislatures are not designed to be silent clubs where everyone agrees.
They are arenas of debate, conflict, disagreement, and sometimes even chaos.
Strong personalities are part of politics.
Loud voices are part of politics.
Unpopular opinions are part of politics.
The solution to speech you dislike is not expulsion.
The solution is debate.
The solution is accountability before the voters.
If Kiko Barzaga truly failed his constituents, then let the people of Cavite remove him at the ballot box—not through a politically charged vote inside the halls of Congress.
The House may have removed Barzaga from his seat.
But in doing so, it may have removed something far more important from itself—its commitment to fairness, consistency, and democratic principles.
And that is a stain far harder to erase.
