On the bustling streets of Antananarivo, Madagascar’s capital, the air was thick with tension and hope as armored vehicles rolled into a square teeming with protesters. The crowd, mostly young and energized, had spent weeks voicing their frustration over persistent water and power cuts, skyrocketing living costs, and a sense that endemic poverty was being ignored. Suddenly, the arrival of Col. Michael Randrianirina, head of an elite military unit, signaled a dramatic shift in the nation’s trajectory. By October 14, 2025, the colonel had led a military coup that ousted President Andry Rajoelina, setting the stage for a new era in Madagascar’s turbulent history.
According to the Associated Press (AP), Col. Randrianirina’s rise came on the heels of youth-led protests—many organized by groups calling themselves “Gen Z Madagascar”—that had rocked the country for nearly a month. These protests weren’t just about utilities; they reflected deep-seated grievances over government corruption, limited access to higher education, and job scarcity. The World Bank estimates that roughly three out of every four Madagascans live in poverty, a staggering statistic that fueled the unrest. Labor unions and civic groups soon joined the youth, amplifying calls for change and accountability.
As the protests peaked, Randrianirina and his elite CAPSAT unit made a pivotal decision: they sided with the demonstrators. The colonel quickly became a familiar face among the crowds, greeted by cheers as he and his soldiers rode through Antananarivo’s streets. One protest leader, Safika, captured the prevailing mood, telling AP, “The military is listening to us.” He added, “The takeover was an awakening of the people. It was launched by the youth. And the military supported us. We must always be wary, but the current state of affairs gives us reason to be confident.”
The coup’s immediate aftermath was chaotic. President Rajoelina, who had first seized power in a 2009 military coup before being elected in 2018 and reelected in 2023, fled the country, citing fears for his life. His government had recently fired key ministers in a failed attempt to quell the protests, following a crackdown that, according to United Nations figures, left 22 dead and more than 100 injured. Rajoelina’s administration disputed those casualty numbers, but the damage was done—public trust had evaporated.
On October 15, 2025, AP reporters Brian Inganga and Nqobile Ntshangase managed to secure the first interview with Col. Randrianirina since the coup. Their account, published by AP, reads almost like a thriller. Inganga described maneuvering through the crowd to approach the colonel, securing his phone number, and then making repeated calls—over a dozen—before finally being granted access to the CAPSAT military barracks. The barracks were a hive of activity, with soldiers, politicians, a priest, and an imam all seeking an audience with the new leader. After some tense moments and a bit of luck, the reporters were ushered into Randrianirina’s office. The colonel greeted them with a smile, joking, “You’ve been calling a lot! So many phone calls!” He reassured them, “I’m not a monster,” before getting down to business.
During the interview, Randrianirina revealed his plans for Madagascar’s future. He told AP, “There must be an oath-taking” to make his new position official, adding, “We are staying here for at least 18 months, at most two years.” This meant that the armed forces would govern the country for up to two years before any elections would be held. The colonel explained that his authority came from the country’s High Constitutional Court, which he claimed had invited him to take over in the absence of Rajoelina. “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. He also noted that the military leadership was “accelerating” the appointment of a new prime minister to help resolve the crisis, though he did not specify a precise timeline.
Not everyone accepted Randrianirina’s account. Rajoelina’s office alleged that some judges on the High Constitutional Court had been threatened into legitimizing the coup. Meanwhile, Randrianirina’s claim of a court mandate was complicated by the military council’s announcement that it had suspended the court’s powers after taking control. This contradiction did not go unnoticed by observers and international organizations.
The African Union responded swiftly, suspending Madagascar from its bodies “until constitutional order is restored in the country.” This move echoed previous suspensions of other African nations following military coups, such as Mali, Burkina Faso, and Guinea. The United Nations also voiced its alarm. U.N. Secretary General António Guterres, through spokesperson Stéphane Dujarric, expressed being “deeply concerned by the unconstitutional change of power in Madagascar” and called for all parties to “work together to reach a peaceful settlement to the ongoing crisis and its root causes.” The U.N. pledged ongoing efforts to “restore peace and stability in the country.”
International analysts weighed in, offering both support and criticism. Olufemi Taiwo, a professor of Africana studies at Cornell University, described the youth movement as an “expression of understandable grievances over government failures” but condemned the military’s intervention. “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,” Taiwo told AP. “This is a civil society uprising and its resolution should not involve the military.”
Despite these concerns, many in Madagascar see the military’s actions as a direct response to the people’s demands. The protesters’ embrace of Randrianirina and his troops suggests a complicated relationship between civilian movements and military power. While some fear a return to authoritarian rule, others hope that the military’s promise of a transitional period and eventual elections will lead to meaningful reform.
For now, Madagascar stands at a crossroads. The coming weeks will be crucial as Randrianirina prepares to be sworn in and the military council works to stabilize the country. The appointment of a new prime minister is being expedited, but the timeline for a return to civilian rule remains uncertain. The world watches closely, with the African Union and United Nations making it clear that a swift restoration of constitutional order is essential.
As the dust settles in Antananarivo, the hopes and anxieties of Madagascar’s 30 million people hang in the balance. The events of October 2025 have already become a defining chapter in the nation’s history, one that will shape its future for years to come.