What started as anger over power outages has become a youth-led call for justice and dignity in one of Africa’s poorest countries.
On September 18, 2025, what began as sporadic protests against power and water shortages in Madagascar’s capital Antananarivo quickly evolved into a nationwide movement. Within two weeks, demonstrations had spread to at least eight cities. The triggers were familiar: daily power outages, unreliable water supply, and rising prices. But behind this was years of accumulated disillusionment with President Andriy Rajoelina’s rule.
In a country where three-quarters of the population lives below the poverty line, the crisis symbolized something deeper: the breakdown of the social contract. The president’s decision to dissolve the government on September 29 acknowledged this pressure, but failed to calm the streets. The message from Madagascar’s young people was clear. This wasn’t just about water and electricity, it was about dignity and voice.
The arrival of the digital generation
The movement to call itself Gen Z Madagascar was born online. Organized through Telegram, TikTok, and X (formerly Twitter), it borrowed symbols of global protest, from One Piece’s pirate flag to the slogan “We Want to Live.” But these weren’t just imitations. They reflect how a generation of digital natives who grew up amid inequality and political fatigue are reimagining protest through humor, creativity, and moral urgency.
Unlike traditional political parties, this movement is horizontal, spontaneous and decentralized. That language, including memes, hashtags, and short videos, makes politics accessible and emotional, turning virtual frustration into physical mobilization.
This is part of a broader pattern across the Global South. From Jakarta to Lagos, the Gen Z movement shares an awareness of global injustice but operates in local expression. In Madagascar, the grievances are specific – corruption, unemployment, failing infrastructure – but the forms of resistance are undoubtedly transnational.
Historical repercussions of protests
Madagascar’s modern history is punctuated by popular uprisings. In 1972, 1991, 2002, and 2009, large-scale mobilizations overthrew governments or forced regime change. Every wave of protests has been driven by different coalitions, including students, civil servants, and religious groups, but the underlying pattern remains the same. When institutions lose their legitimacy, the streets become a place for reform.
The 2025 uprising fits into this lineage, but represents a generational break. This is the first major citizen-led protest movement to have grown up since the 2009 crisis, in an era shaped by smartphones, immigration, and climate stress.
Their demands – electricity, education, accountability – are more practical than ideological, but they carry a deep historical responsibility to end the cycle of dependence and decline. This generational renewal is what characterizes the current crisis. Political elites, largely made up of individuals who have been in power for two decades, now face an electorate that communicates, organizes, and imagines the future differently than before.
The vulnerability of resource-rich countries
The Madagascar paradox is structural. Despite its vast biodiversity and mineral resources, it remains one of the poorest countries on earth. The island’s economic vulnerability stems from its colonial legacy, weak infrastructure, and recurrent political instability.
The 2025 protests will reveal how development failures translate into political failures. Chronic underinvestment in energy and water systems means millions of people routinely experience power outages. Urban centers like Antananarivo live on intermittent electricity. Rural areas are largely unconnected.
The anger of Malagasy youth is thus both material and moral. This links environmental scarcity and social inequality, and shows that climate adaptation, governance and democracy are now inseparable issues on the African island.
Faith, Justice, and Rebirth
International reactions, from the United Nations’ condemnation of excessive force to Pope Leo XIV’s call for “social harmony through justice and the common good,” have framed the rebellion in a moral perspective. Religion has long shaped public protest in Madagascar. Churches, mosques, and youth organizations often provide the moral language of dissent.
Today, that moral language is merging with digital language. The demand for justice is social rather than theological, a demand for inclusion in a condition that many perceive as non-existent. In this synthesis of faith and technology, Malagasy Generation Z reveals a new mode of political imagination that blends ancestral ethics with the immediacy of the global internet.
Between scar and regeneration
Whether the 2025 uprising will be another episode in the island’s long history of unrest, or the beginning of a true rebirth, will depend on what happens next. Government repression and curfews may silence the streets, but not aspirations.
A more serious question is whether Madagascar can turn the energy of protests into reform and dissatisfaction into participation. If successful, the Gen Z movement will be remembered not only for overthrowing the government but also for reshaping the meaning of democracy in the African island nation. If it fails, it will join the archive of broken hopes that plague Malagasy politics.
In any case, generational boundaries have been crossed. What started with a power outage and empty taps has become a demand for dignity and, as protesters chant, the right to life.
Mattia Fumagalli holds a PhD in Institutions and Policy with honors from the Cattolica del Sacro Cuore University in Milan. He is a teaching assistant in African and modern history and a staff member at the ASERI School of Economics and International Relations in Milan. His monograph Modern Ethiopia: State Structure and Human Environment (EDUCatt, 2022) has been included in university curricula. He has presented at international conferences such as McGill University and ISOLA in Paris, and is a member of the Royal African Society and the Italian Society of International History.
Originally published under Creative Commons by 360info™.
