On September 25, 2025, the streets of Madagascar’s capital swelled with the voices of a new generation. Organized largely through social media, thousands of young people—calling themselves ‘Gen Z Madagascar’—marched to demand what many consider the most basic of rights: water and electricity. But as the days unfolded, their grievances deepened, their numbers grew, and their demands evolved into a sweeping indictment of the country’s leadership and legacy.
According to reporting from IOL, what began as a youth-led protest for essential services quickly became a rallying cry against poverty, the soaring cost of living, entrenched corruption, nepotism, and limited access to higher education. The protesters’ message was clear: President Andry Rajoelina must go. Within a week, their movement attracted the support of students, trade unions, and—perhaps most significantly—members of the military and police.
By the weekend before October 15, 2025, the Army Personnel Administration Centre (CAPSAT), under the command of Colonel Michael Randrianirina, joined the demonstrators. The tide had turned. As soldiers and police officers lent their support, President Rajoelina responded with force. He ordered security forces to suppress the unrest and reshuffled his cabinet in a bid to regain control. The result was tragic: more than 22 people lost their lives, and over 100 were injured in violent clashes, as reported by IOL.
Despite the bloodshed, the protests did not abate. Rajoelina’s call for dialogue was largely ignored by the demonstrators, who saw it as too little, too late. As the president faced a looming coup and the threat of parliamentary impeachment, he dissolved the national assembly—a desperate maneuver that only fueled speculation and rumor. Media reports suggested that Rajoelina had been rescued by the French government, a claim France has denied, though whispers of his French citizenship continued to circulate. The shadow of colonial history loomed large over the unfolding crisis.
Then, on Tuesday, October 14, 2025, the military made its move. Colonel Randrianirina announced on national media that the armed forces had taken control of the government and dissolved key institutions, including the constitutional court and the independent electoral commission. The following day, Randrianirina declared himself president, pending a formal swearing-in. He told The Associated Press, “There must be an oath-taking to make my position official.” He explained that the High Constitutional Court had invited him to assume the role of head of state in the absence of Rajoelina, who had fled the country, reportedly fearing for his life after the military rebellion.
“We had to take responsibility yesterday because there is nothing left in the country, no president, no president in the senate, no government,” Randrianirina said, describing the power vacuum that followed Rajoelina’s departure. The colonel pledged to swiftly appoint a new prime minister and form a transitional government, though he offered no specific timeline. The military has promised to announce a civilian transitional government in the coming days, with a two-year path toward general elections scheduled for 2028.
The international response was swift and pointed. The African Union, which had initially called an emergency meeting, suspended Madagascar’s membership “until constitutional order is restored in the country.” The AU has previously taken similar action against other African nations following military coups, including Mali, Burkina Faso, and Guinea. The United Nations, too, expressed grave concern. UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres is “deeply concerned by the unconstitutional change of power in Madagascar,” according to a statement from spokesperson Stephane Dujarric, and called on all sides to “work together to reach a peaceful settlement to the ongoing crisis and its root causes.”
For many observers, the events in Madagascar are a continuation of a painful cycle. Since gaining independence from France in 1960, the country has endured more coups than democratically elected governments. The roots of this instability run deep. As IOL notes, French colonial rule—imposed after the defeat of the indigenous Merina kingdom—systematically dismantled local education and culture, replacing them with institutions designed to serve French interests. Forced labor and resource exploitation became the order of the day, and the legacy of these policies still shapes Madagascar’s economy and society.
Today, Madagascar remains heavily dependent on the export of raw materials—nickel, cobalt, cloves, coffee, vanilla, prawns, and shrimps—primarily to European markets. The country then imports finished goods at prices unaffordable to most of its citizens. More than 75% of the population lives below the poverty line, with only 39% having access to electricity and many lacking clean water. As The Global Economy reported in 2023, even those with access to electricity often struggle to afford it.
President Rajoelina, who first came to power after a 2009 military coup backed by the CAPSAT unit, had promised to break this cycle. His “One District, One Factory” policy aimed to strengthen the local economy and reduce reliance on exports. Yet, critics argue that he failed to dismantle the colonial economic structures that continue to benefit France and other European countries at the expense of ordinary Malagasy people.
The youth uprising—and the military’s intervention—have reignited debate about the role of external influence and internal mismanagement in Madagascar’s woes. Professor Olufemi Taiwo of Cornell University told The Associated Press, “Gen-Zers in Madagascar have been on the streets of the country protesting the lack of essential services, especially water and electricity, and the negative impact on their lives for almost a month. This is a civil society uprising and its resolution should not involve the military.” He urged the African Union to condemn the coup and called for no recognition of the new military leadership.
Yet, the military insists that its takeover is a response to a leadership vacuum and a means to stabilize the country. Colonel Randrianirina said, “What I can say is that we are already accelerating it so that the crisis in the country does not last forever.” The promise is for a transitional civilian government and elections in 2028, but skepticism abounds, especially given Madagascar’s history of repeated coups and broken promises.
Underlying these dramatic events is a broader conversation about the legacy of colonialism and the need for a new, Pan-African approach to governance. Orapeleng Matshediso, a research fellow at the University of Johannesburg, argues that the cycle of coups and economic dependency can only be broken by visionary, ethical leadership and a “decolonial dialogue” aligned with the African Union’s goals of building an Africa with a strong cultural identity and shared heritage. Matshediso warns that simply suspending Madagascar’s AU membership is not enough; a deeper, more inclusive analysis and solution are needed.
As the dust settles and Colonel Randrianirina awaits his formal swearing-in, the people of Madagascar are left facing an all-too-familiar uncertainty. Their demands for dignity, opportunity, and self-determination echo across generations. Whether this latest upheaval will bring meaningful change or simply reset the cycle remains to be seen.
