A dramatic rift in Madagascar’s military is thrusting the island nation toward dangerous territory as protesters demand the president step down.
According to the New York Times, after weeks of unrest triggered by failed basic services and government dysfunction, a military unit abandoned its post to support protestors, raising fears the country could face another coup led by disillusioned soldiers.
This weekend, the administrative military faction known as CAPSAT openly broke ranks with President Andry Rajoelina’s government, releasing an online video that slammed the current leadership and called on fellow troops to defy orders and stop suppressing demonstrators.
Military Defection Sparks Warnings Of Coup
The unit’s statement drew sharp attention, not just for its content but for who said it—CAPSAT is no backwater brigade. In 2009, the same group helped usher Rajoelina into power through a coup, a fact not lost on either side of Madagascar’s deepening crisis.
“We are no longer fulfilling our role,” declared one member in the CAPSAT video, flanked by firearms and fellow soldiers. “We have become bootlickers...instead of protecting the population.” It was as much an indictment of the failing state as it was a call to mutiny. The soldiers urged their colleagues in uniform to “refuse to be paid to shoot our friends, our brothers, our sisters.” With those words, CAPSAT made clear its loyalty is no longer to the executive branch, but to the people in the streets.
Protests Evolve Beyond Electricity Demands
What started as youthful outrage over blackouts and dry taps has now morphed into a nationwide rebuke of corruption and dysfunction. The streets of Antananarivo, Madagascar’s capital, have seen waves of discontent boiling over into violence.
Law enforcement’s reaction has been as expected from a bureaucracy in free fall—tear gas, rubber bullets, and the usual denials. Violent footage has emerged showing security forces clashing with citizens, widely circulated even as the government disputes reports that two dozen people have died. Weeks of tension only ratcheted higher when protesters were joined by camouflage-clad reinforcements. CAPSAT’s decision to stand with demonstrators marked a turning point few saw coming, but many now fear may repeat history.
President’s Grip Appears Increasingly Fragile
President Rajoelina has nominally responded by dismissing his prime minister alongside the entire cabinet—a political show of force intended to win back trust. It didn’t work. Protesters continue demanding the president’s own resignation, calling the cabinet shuffle too little, too late.
The reshuffle installed Gen. Ruphin Fortunat Zafisambo as the new prime minister, and within days on the job, he’s already calling for “calm and dialogue.” A noble idea, but one that sounds naïvely hopeful when opposing armies are now sharing city squares for rival causes. “It is unthinkable for the armed forces to shoot at each other,” Zafisambo said. That may be true—yet reports suggest just that may have happened. The breakaway unit reportedly took fire from other branches of law enforcement loyal to the presidency.
Madagascar’s Political Drama Meets Economic Collapse
It’s hardly an exaggeration to say the country is in a free fall. A staggering 75% of the population is mired in poverty, a figure the World Bank attributes to both chronic mismanagement and climate-related setbacks ravaging the island’s agriculture sector.
The threat doesn't end at the barrel of a gun. Economic blows have come from abroad too, with concerns that America's tariffs—especially those from the Trump era—could pinch Madagascar’s already fragile export economy. Key goods like vanilla don’t sell themselves in a turbulent market.
Rajoelina insists he’ll resign if he can’t fix things within the year. That promise, of course, comes from a man who once took office by toppling someone else. His critics see that not as humility, but as a hedge to cling to power one month longer.
Nation Watches for What Comes Next
For now, the president’s exact location remains a mystery. His office claims both he and the PM are still in charge, but with battalions turning against him on home turf, control might be more a matter of branding than reality.
What comes next depends on whether more military ranks heed CAPSAT’s call or whether government loyalists hold the line. With history as their guide, many Malagasy citizens aren't betting on a smooth resolution. Leadership by force is always fragile. Power gained in the streets can easily be lost there, and Rajoelina’s path to office is beginning to mirror the same route by which he may be shown the door.
