Madagascar’s Youth Demand Change—But What Comes Next Remains a Mystery
But here’s the uncomfortable truth: While Madagascar’s Gen Z protesters are winning the battle to oust their president, they have no clear vision for what should follow. And that uncertainty could lead to disaster.
ANTANANARIVO – The streets of Madagascar’s capital are filled with furious young voices chanting for President Andry Rajoelina to resign—immediately. Their energy is undeniable, their anger justified. Yet, when asked who should replace him or how the country should move forward, these protesters fall silent.
"He has to go. Now," declares Angie Rakoto, a 21-year-old law student, standing among thousands in May 13 Square—a symbolic location named after the 1972 youth uprising that toppled Madagascar’s first post-independence leader. But when pressed about what comes after Rajoelina, she admits, "Honestly? I don’t know who should take his place. But it has to be someone who actually cares about us."
A Movement Without a Plan
Madagascar’s unrest mirrors a global pattern: young people rising up against inequality, corruption, and failing leadership. But unlike organized revolutions with clear demands, this uprising lacks direction. Protesters are united in what they don’t want—Rajoelina’s rule—but have no consensus on what comes next.
And this is where it gets risky.
With no clear opposition leader and the military already flexing its influence, the most likely outcome isn’t a democratic transition—it’s a military takeover. Shockingly, many protesters seem untroubled by this possibility, despite Madagascar’s history of disastrous military regimes. "If the military cares about the country, why not?" shrugs Fanizy Razafimandimby, a 30-year-old mechanic. But history suggests otherwise.
Why Are They Protesting?
The spark? Relentless power cuts and water shortages. The fuel? Decades of economic neglect. Madagascar is one of the world’s poorest nations, with 75% of its population living on less than $2.15 a day—a statistic unchanged for 40 years. The average citizen earns just $600 a year, while leaders profit from the country’s rich resources: vanilla (supplying two-thirds of the global market), nickel, gemstones, and seafood.
So where does the money go?
Protesters blame corruption, France (the former colonial power), and Rajoelina himself—a leader accused of prioritizing self-interest over his people. "We ask for jobs, electricity, affordable food. What do we get? Empty speeches," snaps Andre Hassana, a 26-year-old tour guide.
The Global Gen Z Playbook
Madagascar’s youth aren’t alone. From Morocco to Peru, young protesters are using similar tactics: viral slogans, manga-inspired symbols (like the One Piece skull flag waved in Antananarivo), and decentralized leadership. Their grievances are universal—rising costs, unemployment, and a system rigged against them.
But unlike other movements, Madagascar’s uprising risks swapping one problem for another. If the military seizes control, will things really improve? Or will history repeat itself?
The Million-Dollar Question: What Now?
Constitutionally, if Rajoelina resigns, the Senate president should temporarily lead until elections. But with the military’s growing influence and protesters lacking a unified alternative, chaos looms.
Do you trust the military to guide Madagascar to stability? Or is this a recipe for another failed state?
We want to hear your thoughts. Could this uprising lead to real change—or is Madagascar teetering on the edge of another crisis? Drop your opinion in the comments.
