In a dramatic turn of events, Madagascar has joined the ranks of nations where military figures have seized power, following a wave of nationwide protests led by the country’s Gen Z population. The demonstrations, sparked by persistent power and water shortages, quickly escalated and culminated in a military coup that forced President Andry Rajoelina into exile in October 2025, according to the Associated Press. Colonel Michael Randrianirina, an army officer, was sworn in as the new leader of the Indian Ocean nation, marking yet another instance of a military figure rising from the barracks to the presidential palace.
The story of Colonel Randrianirina’s ascent is striking, but it’s hardly unique in the annals of modern history. In fact, the world has witnessed several military leaders who, propelled by coups, have gone on to rule their countries—sometimes for years, sometimes for decades. The paths these leaders took, and the legacies they left behind, offer a sobering look at the intersection of military might and political power.
Madagascar’s recent upheaval was rooted in deep frustration. For weeks, young people across the country took to the streets, venting their anger over rolling blackouts and unreliable water supplies. Their protests, fueled by social media and a sense of generational urgency, eventually overwhelmed the civilian government. President Rajoelina, unable to quell the unrest or restore basic services, fled into exile. In the power vacuum that followed, Colonel Randrianirina emerged as the new head of state. His swearing-in was swift and symbolic—a signal to the world that Madagascar’s military was now in charge.
But Randrianirina is far from the first to follow this path. Consider Myanmar’s Min Aung Hlaing, who after decades of rising through the ranks, seized power in a military coup in February 2021. As reported by the Associated Press, Min Aung Hlaing, facing mandatory retirement, acted decisively; he declared a state of emergency, transferred all state power to himself, and established a military government known as the State Administration Council. Since then, he has ruled Myanmar under various titles, with the military government promising elections by the end of the year—a promise many in the international community view with skepticism.
Uganda’s Idi Amin is another infamous example. Amin’s military career began humbly, as a cook in the British colonial army. After Uganda’s independence in 1962, he quickly rose through the ranks under President Milton Obote’s guidance, eventually becoming commander of the army. In January 1971, while Obote attended a Commonwealth summit in Singapore, Amin seized control in a military coup. Obote fled to neighboring Tanzania, and Ugandans initially welcomed Amin’s rise, hoping for the release of political prisoners and a restoration of democracy. However, as the Associated Press notes, Amin’s regime soon devolved into a brutal dictatorship, marked by violence and egregious human rights abuses. His rule ended in 1979 when a Tanzanian invasion force and Ugandan rebels overthrew him.
Turkey, too, has its own story of military intervention. Kenan Evren, a career officer who rose to become chief of the general staff, led a military coup in September 1980. At the time, Turkey was teetering on the brink of civil war, with violent clashes between left-wing and right-wing militants. The military, under Evren’s leadership, dissolved Parliament and ruled through a National Security Council, with Evren at its helm. He later assumed the presidency formally in November 1982, following the approval of a new constitution by referendum. Evren remained president until November 1989. Decades later, in 2012, he was put on trial and sentenced to life imprisonment for his role in the coup.
Ghana’s Jerry Rawlings is another figure whose rise to power was marked by military coups. Rawlings, a pilot in the Ghanaian Air Force, first seized power in June 1979, only to briefly relinquish it. He returned with another coup in December 1981, toppling the civilian government and establishing a military dictatorship under the Provisional National Defense Council. According to the Associated Press, Rawlings later oversaw the drafting of a new constitution and was democratically elected president in 1992, serving two four-year terms until 2001. His legacy remains complicated—praised for economic reforms, yet criticized for human rights abuses, including arbitrary detentions and forced disappearances.
Chile’s history was forever altered by General Augusto Pinochet, who led a bloody military coup in September 1973. Pinochet had been appointed commander-in-chief of the army by President Salvador Allende just a month earlier. When the coup unfolded, the military surrounded and bombed the presidential palace, La Moneda, where Allende died by suicide. Pinochet quickly established himself as the head of a military junta and then as Chile’s dictator, ruling for 17 years until 1990. That period was marked by widespread human rights violations and the implementation of radical free-market economic policies. The Associated Press notes that Pinochet’s rule left deep scars on Chilean society—scars that are still the subject of debate and reflection today.
These stories, spanning continents and decades, reveal a recurring pattern: when civilian governments falter—whether due to economic crises, political infighting, or popular unrest—military leaders sometimes step into the breach. Their justifications vary: restoring order, protecting the nation, or responding to the will of the people. Yet the outcomes are rarely simple. As seen in Uganda, Chile, and Turkey, military rule often ushers in periods of repression, curtailed freedoms, and, in many cases, enduring trauma for ordinary citizens.
In Madagascar, the future remains uncertain. Colonel Randrianirina’s rise may have brought a temporary end to the unrest that gripped the nation, but history offers a cautionary tale about what comes next. Will he, like Ghana’s Rawlings, eventually oversee a return to democracy? Or will his rule resemble the long, often brutal tenures of leaders like Amin or Pinochet? For now, the world watches and waits, mindful that the line between order and oppression can be perilously thin.
In the end, the stories of these military leaders serve as a stark reminder: power seized by force rarely comes without a cost, and the path from the barracks to the palace is often paved with both hope and hardship.