On October 13, 2025, Madagascar’s President Andry Rajoelina appeared on Facebook Live, not from his presidential office in Antananarivo, but from an undisclosed location outside his country. The reason? A wave of protests, a military rebellion, and a climate of fear that forced the 51-year-old leader to flee for his life. In a late-night speech, Rajoelina confirmed what many in Madagascar and beyond had suspected: he was no longer on home soil, having sought safety after weeks of mounting unrest and a dramatic shift in the nation’s power balance.
“I was forced to find a safe place to protect my life,” Rajoelina declared in his address, which was ultimately streamed on the presidency’s official Facebook page after hours of delay. The original plan had been to broadcast on national television, but that became impossible when soldiers attempted to seize control of the state-owned broadcaster’s buildings. According to the president’s office, the threat to the media was so severe that it derailed the government’s communications, leaving citizens to watch and wait as rumors swirled about the fate of their leader.
The crisis began on September 25, 2025, with protests over chronic water and electricity outages. But as the days wore on, the demonstrations swelled in both size and scope, rapidly morphing into a broad movement against poverty, the soaring cost of living, and widespread allegations of government corruption. The protestors—many of them young and organized under the banner of "Gen Z Madagascar"—were inspired by similar youth-led uprisings in Nepal and Sri Lanka that had unseated entrenched leaders earlier in the year. They mobilized online, coordinated rallies, and brought thousands into the streets of Antananarivo, Madagascar’s bustling capital.
By early October, the situation had grown dire. According to the United Nations, at least 22 people had been killed and dozens more injured in clashes between protesters and security forces. The UN criticized what it called a "violent response" from Madagascan authorities to what were largely peaceful protests in their early stages. The government, for its part, disputed the number of deaths, but the mounting toll added fuel to the public’s anger. Nighttime curfews were imposed in Antananarivo and the northern port city of Antsiranana, yet the unrest showed no sign of abating.
The real turning point came on October 11, when the elite CAPSAT military unit—previously a key pillar of Rajoelina’s power—defected from the government. CAPSAT announced that it would "refuse orders to shoot" demonstrators and called for the president and his ministers to resign. The unit, which had played a pivotal role in the 2009 coup that first brought Rajoelina to power, claimed control over all of Madagascar’s armed forces and appointed a new officer in charge of the military, a move accepted by the country’s defense minister in Rajoelina’s absence.
Colonel Michael Randrianirina, a CAPSAT commander, addressed reporters at the military headquarters, stating, “The army has responded to the people’s calls.” He denied that a coup was underway, insisting that it was up to the Madagascan people to decide what happens next. Nevertheless, CAPSAT soldiers exchanged gunfire with loyalist security forces over the weekend, resulting in at least one soldier’s death. Despite the violence, there was no major fighting on the streets; instead, soldiers riding armored vehicles and waving Madagascar flags were cheered by crowds in the capital.
On October 12, reports surfaced that Rajoelina had been flown out of Madagascar on a French Army Casa aircraft, after being brought to Sainte Marie Airport by helicopter. While the French government declined to confirm these details, French President Emmanuel Macron expressed "great concern" over the situation, though he would not say whether France was involved in Rajoelina’s evacuation. The president’s reported departure came just hours after army units defected and the CAPSAT unit announced its new authority.
Rajoelina’s absence left a power vacuum—and a nation on edge. His office did not disclose his whereabouts, and a senior army general sought to reassure the public, stating that security forces were working together to maintain order. The U.S. Embassy in Madagascar advised American citizens to shelter in place, citing a “highly volatile and unpredictable” situation. Meanwhile, the African Union called for calm and restraint from both civilian and military actors.
Back in Antananarivo, the protests only intensified. On October 13, thousands of demonstrators—joined by soldiers and security forces—gathered outside city hall, waving flags and chanting anti-government slogans. "I hope the president will apologise and genuinely announce his resignation," said Finaritra Manitra Andrianamelasoa, a 24-year-old protester, in an interview with AFP. "Afterwards, we can consider organising elections and determine who will be suitable to take the leadership role." Civic groups and trade unions also joined the movement, amplifying calls for accountability and democratic transition.
The unrest has exposed deep fissures in Madagascar’s political landscape. Rajoelina, who first rose to prominence as the leader of a transitional government following the 2009 coup, was elected president in 2018 and re-elected in 2023, though the latter election was boycotted by opposition parties. His French citizenship has long been a source of discontent among some Madagascans, particularly in light of the country’s colonial past and ongoing economic struggles.
As the crisis unfolded, other senior officials also fled. Madagascar’s former prime minister and one of Rajoelina’s closest advisers arrived in the nearby island of Mauritius in the early hours of October 12, according to Mauritian authorities, who expressed displeasure that a private plane carrying the officials had landed on their territory without prior approval.
For now, Madagascar’s future hangs in the balance. The CAPSAT unit maintains it has not staged a coup, but it is clear that the military’s allegiance has shifted. The president’s call for dialogue and respect for the constitution has yet to yield results, and the demands of the protesters—for justice, transparency, and a chance at a better life—remain unmet. As curfews persist and international observers watch closely, the Indian Ocean nation faces its most significant political crisis in over a decade.
With the president in exile and the military’s loyalties uncertain, Madagascar’s next chapter will be shaped by the resolve of its people and the willingness of its leaders—old and new—to heed their calls for change.