MANILA, PHILIPPINES â It was supposed to be a day of reckoning. A ânew revolution,â as Congressman Elpidio Barzaga boldly declared before cameras, microphones, and a sea of flashing headlines. But what happened next would go down not as a revolution, but as one of the most bizarre and embarrassing political spectacles in recent Philippine history.
In a scene that could only be described as delusional theater, Barzaga attempted to summon a âPeople Powerâ uprising against President Ferdinand âBongbongâ Marcos Jr. His words were loud, his gestures grand, his promises fiery: âWe will enter Forbes Park. We will show them the power of the people!â
But as dusk fell over Makati, reality struck hard. The so-called revolution turned out to be a ghost rally â a smattering of confused followers, a handful of placards, and an army of bemused police officers and journalists who outnumbered the protesters themselves.
What was meant to be a symbol of defiance became a meme in minutes.
THE RALLY THAT WASNâT
In the days leading up to the rally, Barzaga flooded social media with cryptic teasers and fiery rhetoric. Rumors swirled that his movement was gaining momentum. Hashtags trended. Even fringe vloggers hyped it as âthe spark that will burn Malacañang.â
But when the hour came, the supposed âcrowd of thousandsâ turned out to be less than fifty. The streets of Forbes Park â the very area Barzaga had promised to âstormâ â remained calm, guarded, and largely indifferent.
Videos soon circulated online, showing a visibly agitated Barzaga surrounded by a tiny group of followers chanting awkwardly in the dark. The footage became instant fodder for ridicule.
âWas this People Power or People Powder?â one netizen joked on X (formerly Twitter). Another captioned a clip, âWhen your revolution has fewer people than your birthday party.â
âA MAN LOSING GRIP,â COMMENTATOR CLAIMS
The viral moment quickly reached popular political commentators, including the outspoken host of Coach Jarret Live, who tore into Barzagaâs performance with surgical precision.
âThis isnât activism,â the commentator scoffed during a live broadcast. âThis is insanity disguised as patriotism. You donât call that People Power â you call that People Delusion.â
The commentatorâs monologue was brutal. He accused Barzaga of exploiting the symbols of EDSA and the peopleâs struggle for his own ego-driven crusade. âHeâs not leading a revolution,â he said. âHeâs trolling the government. And badly.â
Jarret further suggested that Barzagaâs behavior could signal something deeper â either political desperation or a psychological break under pressure. âYou donât tell people to invade private property,â he said, referring to Barzagaâs bizarre challenge to âenterâ the homes of wealthy officials in Forbes Park. âThatâs not leadership. Thatâs a crime.â
A DANGEROUS GAME WITH REAL CONSEQUENCES
While the public laughed, analysts were less amused. Political scientist Dr. Maria Luisa Tolentino called the incident âdeeply troubling.â
âWhen an elected lawmaker publicly incites trespassing and potential violence, even symbolically, it erodes democratic norms,â she explained. âItâs not only reckless; it creates unnecessary tension in an already polarized society.â
Indeed, many noted that Barzagaâs outburst wasnât happening in a vacuum. Over the past year, Philippine politics has been rife with disinformation campaigns, ideological divisions, and renewed influence from foreign actors â particularly online networks suspected of pushing anti-government narratives.
Reuters recently reported that Chinese-linked âtroll farmsâ had been amplifying polarizing content about the Marcos administration. Some analysts now speculate that Barzagaâs so-called âmovementâ may have been unintentionally fueled by such networks, turning a lone political stunt into an international talking point.
WHEN DELUSION MEETS DISINFORMATION
Coach Jarret seized on that point, warning viewers not to underestimate the digital machinery behind such spectacles.
âBarzaga might think heâs fighting corruption,â the commentator said, âbut heâs playing straight into someone elseâs game â maybe even Beijingâs.â
He claimed that online narratives portraying Barzaga as a âbrave reformistâ were artificially boosted by suspicious pages and accounts linked to disinformation hubs. âItâs psychological warfare,â he said. âThey want chaos. And people like Barzaga make it easy.â
Social media analysts have long warned that viral political âmomentsâ â especially those involving high emotion and spectacle â are fertile ground for manipulation. When mixed with genuine frustration among the population, they can blur the line between dissent and destabilization.
MARCOS: SILENT, BUT FIRMLY SEATED
Through it all, President Marcos has remained publicly silent. Sources inside Malacañang say the administration viewed Barzagaâs stunt as âself-destructiveâ and saw no need to respond officially.
âWhy dignify it?â one Palace insider reportedly told journalists. âThe people saw what happened. The President didnât even need to lift a finger.â
Indeed, by the following morning, Barzagaâs ârevolutionâ had evaporated â leaving behind only memes, headlines, and a lingering question: What drove a sitting congressman to this point?
A CAUTIONARY TALE
The fiasco of Barzagaâs failed uprising underscores a troubling trend in Philippine politics: the rise of spectacle over substance. In an era where attention is power, even humiliation can be spun into visibility.
But visibility is not victory.
Barzagaâs gamble â whether motivated by genuine conviction, delusion, or hidden agendas â has exposed more about the fragility of the political ecosystem than about Marcos himself. It showed how quickly disinformation, ego, and outrage can combine to produce chaos out of nothing.
For ordinary Filipinos watching from their screens, it was both tragic and absurd â a reminder that democracy is not a performance, and âPeople Powerâ cannot be conjured by hashtags or hollow theatrics.
In the end, as one commentator wryly concluded, âIf this is the new revolution, then the revolution has truly died.â