On September 25, 2025, a spark of discontent ignited a firestorm of political upheaval in Madagascar. What began as a youth-led protest over power outages and water shortages rapidly swelled into a generational revolt against corruption, poverty, and decades of government neglect. The movement, orchestrated primarily through encrypted social media platforms, would within weeks topple President Andry Rajoelina and plunge the country into a period of military rule and profound uncertainty.
According to reporting by IOL and The Guardian, the initial demonstration was organized by a group calling itself 'Gen Z Madagascar.' Using platforms such as Discord, TikTok, and Telegram, these young activists—many under the age of 20—rallied thousands to demand basic necessities. But as the days passed, the protest’s focus broadened. Issues like the soaring cost of living, systemic corruption, nepotism, and limited access to higher education entered the fray. The protesters’ demands intensified, ultimately calling for President Rajoelina’s resignation.
Within a week, students and trade unions joined the swelling crowds. The movement’s digital roots set it apart from previous Malagasy uprisings—organizers bypassed traditional opposition parties, instead leveraging memes, humor, and viral messaging to coordinate action. As described by The Guardian, this was part of a broader global pattern, echoing similar youth-driven revolts in Nepal, Morocco, and Peru, where young people have used digital tools to challenge entrenched powers.
Madagascar’s youth have ample reason for frustration. Despite the country’s wealth in natural resources—nickel, cobalt, vanilla, shrimp—more than 75% of the population lives below the poverty line. Only 39% have access to electricity, and clean water remains a luxury for many. Monthly incomes average just 300,000 ariary (about $67), barely enough to cover food and transport. The country’s GDP per capita has plummeted by nearly 45% since independence, and the promise of opportunity has grown ever more distant for a generation coming of age amid hardship.
As the protests gained momentum, the government’s response grew increasingly desperate. President Rajoelina, who himself first came to power in 2009 after a military coup, ordered police and military forces to suppress the demonstrations. Cabinet reshuffles followed, but these gestures failed to quell the unrest. Clashes between protesters and security forces turned deadly: more than 22 people lost their lives, and over 100 were injured, according to IOL. Yet even this violence did not break the resolve of the demonstrators.
In a dramatic twist, key elements of the military began to side with the protesters. Soldiers from the elite Army Personnel Administration Centre (CAPSAT), led by Colonel Michael Randrianirina, publicly expressed support for the movement. Some police officers also defected, refusing to fire on civilians. This critical shift tipped the balance. As The Guardian reported, CAPSAT’s commanders escorted demonstrators through Antananarivo’s Independence Square, signaling that the regime’s days were numbered.
By October 12, 2025, the situation reached a breaking point. President Rajoelina, facing the prospect of a coup and the collapse of his government, fled Madagascar aboard a French military aircraft from Sainte Marie airport. Media reports, cited by IOL, claim the evacuation was facilitated by French President Emmanuel Macron, though France has denied direct involvement. Nevertheless, the image of a president escaping with the help of the country’s former colonial ruler reignited deep-seated resentments about France’s ongoing influence in Malagasy affairs.
Rajoelina’s planned national address that evening was abruptly canceled, and within hours, he had vanished from Malagasy airspace. His departure left a constitutional vacuum. Under the country’s charter, Senate leader Jean André Ndremanjary assumed temporary control, but protesters rejected his legitimacy, viewing the entire political class as complicit in the country’s decline.
In the days that followed, the military dissolved key institutions, including the constitutional court and the independent electoral commission. On October 15, 2025, Colonel Randrianirina declared himself president and announced plans for a civilian transitional government, to be unveiled within days. The military promised a two-year transition leading to general elections in 2028. Yet for many Malagasy citizens, these assurances rang hollow. As IOL notes, since gaining independence from France in 1960, Madagascar has experienced more coups than democratically elected governments—a cycle of instability that has stymied development and deepened public mistrust.
For the young people at the heart of the uprising, the grievances are personal and immediate. “In sixteen years the President and his government have done nothing except enrich themselves while the people stay poor,” said Adrianaivony Fanomegantsoa, a 22-year-old hotel worker quoted by The Guardian. The protesters’ rallying cry—“We have nothing left to lose but our future”—captures a generational sense of desperation and defiance.
This new wave of Gen Z politics is notably leaderless yet fiercely united. It transcends traditional ideologies, focusing instead on survival, dignity, and the right to be heard. The protesters’ use of digital platforms allowed them to coordinate rapidly, adapt tactics, and inspire similar movements abroad. As The Guardian observes, “if the 20th century belonged to ideologies, the 21st belongs to youth movements with smartphones and nothing left to lose.”
The roots of Madagascar’s crisis run deep. The legacy of French colonialism still looms large, shaping the country’s political and economic systems. Colonial policies of forced labor, resource extraction, and the destruction of indigenous education and culture have left lasting scars. Today, Madagascar exports raw materials to Europe and imports expensive finished goods—a pattern that, as IOL points out, perpetuates dependency and poverty. President Rajoelina had promised to strengthen the local economy and break this cycle, but critics argue he failed to dismantle the colonial-era structures that benefit foreign interests at the expense of ordinary Malagasy citizens.
The African Union responded to the military takeover by suspending Madagascar’s membership, citing its opposition to unconstitutional government. But as Orapeleng Matshediso, a Pan African Development Studies researcher, argued in IOL, “merely suspending membership and calling for inclusive dialogue is not sufficient.” He called for visionary, ethical leadership and a decolonial dialogue aligned with the African Union’s aspirations for a strong, culturally grounded Africa.
As Madagascar enters a period of military rule, the challenges ahead are daunting: rebuilding a shattered economy, restoring public trust, and addressing the grievances of a restless, digitally empowered generation. The fall of Rajoelina’s government is a warning to other fragile states—ignore the voices of youth at your peril. In Madagascar, Gen Z has proven it is a force to be reckoned with, one that will not be silenced by repression or empty promises.