For weeks, the African island nation of Madagascar has found itself in the grip of escalating unrest, culminating in dramatic political upheaval and a military takeover that has left the country’s future uncertain. The turmoil centers around President Andry Rajoelina, who, after facing mounting protests and threats to his safety, fled the country on a French military aircraft, according to reporting by Reuters and CNN.
The protests, which began on September 25, 2025, were initially sparked by widespread anger over persistent power and water shortages. These basic service failures quickly became a lightning rod for broader grievances, especially among the country’s youth. As reported by The New York Times, the demonstrations soon swelled to include calls for President Rajoelina and his ministers to step down, with tens of thousands flooding streets across the country. The movement, often described as "Gen Z" protests, drew inspiration from global youth-led activism and was marked by creative banners and chants, including one that used an expletive to demand the president’s resignation.
May 13 Square in the capital, Antananarivo, became the epicenter of the uprising. There, crowds waved Malagasy flags, sang protest songs, and even honored the memory of those killed during clashes with security forces. The United Nations reported that nearly two dozen people had died during the protests, though the government contested this figure.
As the unrest intensified, the government’s response grew increasingly desperate. President Rajoelina, who had already faced accusations of corruption and electoral fraud (he was re-elected in 2023 amid claims of a rigged process), fired his entire cabinet in an attempt to quell public anger. But this move only seemed to embolden demonstrators and further erode his support within the security forces.
In a speech published online on Monday, October 13, 2025, President Rajoelina announced that he was sheltering in an undisclosed location due to threats on his life. He insisted, "I am staying in power to save the deeply impoverished southern African island nation," despite growing calls for his resignation from both the public and some members of the country’s security forces. The speech was delayed for hours after dissident military forces attempted to seize the state-run television station that was supposed to broadcast his remarks, according to a post on the presidency’s Facebook page.
By this point, the demonstrations had taken on a festive yet determined air. Vendors at May 13 Square sold fruit, grilled meat, and ice cream as speakers from student groups, workers’ unions, and other activists rallied the crowd. The coffin of a protester killed days earlier was paraded through the square, drawing a moment of solemn silence from the assembled thousands. Fenosoa Hanitriniaina, a 29-year-old law student, told The New York Times, "I’m happy and confident of a better future in Madagascar," expressing hope that the president’s days in office were numbered.
The situation reached a tipping point over the weekend before October 14, 2025, when some members of Madagascar’s security forces, including the elite CAPSAT unit, defected and joined the protesters. This dramatic shift was reminiscent of the 2009 coup that first brought Rajoelina, then the mayor of Antananarivo, to power with CAPSAT’s backing. Now, history seemed to be repeating itself—but with Rajoelina on the receiving end of a popular revolt.
On Tuesday, October 14, 2025, Army Colonel Michael Randrianirina of the CAPSAT unit announced on national radio, "We have taken the power." The military, he said, was dissolving all institutions except the lower house of parliament, and a committee made up of officers from the army, gendarmerie, and national police would temporarily assume presidential functions. "Perhaps in time it will include senior civilian advisers. It is this committee that will carry out the work of the presidency," Randrianirina explained, adding that a civilian government would be established within days and a prime minister appointed quickly.
The military’s move came shortly after 130 members of parliament voted to impeach President Rajoelina—a tally well above the two-thirds constitutional threshold required. In a last-ditch effort to block the vote, Rajoelina had earlier dissolved the National Assembly, but the lawmakers pressed ahead regardless. The presidency denounced the assembly meeting as unconstitutional and declared any resolution "null and void." Nevertheless, the High Constitutional Court later declared the presidency vacant and invited the military, under Randrianirina’s leadership, to exercise the functions of the head of state.
The presidency issued a statement on Facebook condemning the military’s actions as an "attempted coup," insisting that Rajoelina remained the legitimate leader. "The presence of armed military forces in front of the presidential palace constitutes a clear act of attempted coup d'etat," the statement read. "The president of the republic remains fully in office and ensures the maintenance of constitutional order and national stability."
Despite the official denials, the reality on the ground was clear: Madagascar’s military had assumed control, suspending the Senate, the high constitutional court, the electoral body, and other state institutions. Only the lower house of parliament remained functional. The military’s careful avoidance of the word "coup" appeared aimed at minimizing international backlash and preserving the crucial flow of foreign aid to the nation of 32 million—a country where, according to the World Bank, the majority live in poverty and are highly vulnerable to economic shocks.
The roots of the crisis run deep. Years of government corruption, economic mismanagement, and environmental disasters—ranging from droughts to cyclones—have battered Madagascar’s agriculture and left millions struggling to survive. The protests that erupted this fall were not just about electricity and water; they reflected a profound loss of faith in the political system and a demand for real change.
As the dust settles, Madagascar stands at a crossroads. The military has promised a swift transition to civilian government, but the path forward remains fraught with uncertainty. For the young protesters who filled the streets, the hope is that this moment will mark the beginning of a new era—one in which their voices are finally heard and their needs addressed. Whether that hope will be realized is a question only time can answer.