Following Nepal recently, in Madagascar, young people are organising and making their voices heard: the ’Gen Z Madagascar’ collective is mobilising in the streets and online against power cuts, the lack of drinking water and corruption. But behind these immediate demands lies a deeper anger, fed by endemic poverty and mining exploitation that enriches foreign interests whilst the population remains destitute. An unprecedented revolt, horizontal and connected, under the banner of the ’Jolly Roger’, the pirate flag from the series One Piece.

’When people speak of ideas that revolutionise society, they do but express the fact that within the old society, the elements of a new one have been created, and that the dissolution of the old ideas keeps even pace with the dissolution of the old conditions of existence.’

Karl Marx, Communist Manifesto, 1848.

’Leo be’ (’we’ve had enough’). This is the slogan taken up by thousands of demonstrators in Madagascar over the past several days. Many of the protesters identify with a ’Gen Z Madagascar’ collective created in mid-September on social media. This movement launched by young Malagasy people, from the island and the diaspora, has met with considerable resonance. They are now protesting against living conditions that prevent any normal family and economic life. The mobilisation is unprecedented in its form and scale. Thousands of people have defied the prefectural ban prohibiting all gatherings in the capital, Antananarivo.

The organisation, which presents itself as a ’peaceful and civic movement’, denounces ’constant power cuts and lack of access to drinking water’, but also ’systemic corruption within institutions’ and ’extreme poverty affecting a large part of the population’, according to a statement published on Thursday. The government, in an attempt to stop the movement, granted them the head of the Energy Minister the morning after the demonstrations. This dismissal comes as police fired live ammunition, killing six demonstrators on Friday (some sources say five killed) and wounding thirty. Until then, the repressive forces had ’only’ used rubber bullets, which are less lethal.

Journalist Iss Heridiny, from the island’s leading daily newspaper Midi Madagasykara, reports these bloody events as follows: ’On Friday 26 September at around 10 o’clock, a confrontation between demonstrators and all public order agents took place in several locations, notably Tsena, Bazary Kely, Tanambao. The toll is six dead including a university student (...). At around 3 p.m., his friends and fellow students decided to tour the city of Pain de Sucre [1] carrying the student’s body. “We have no weapons and we stayed on campus on Thursday 25 September, but they came here to attack us. Our comrade had nothing in his hands. He was in the street, yet they shot at him. This act is condemnable. Out of respect for our friend, we will not give in. The struggle continues until justice is done,” one of them declared.’

The shock is considerable on the island and in the diaspora. Especially as all testimonies confirm the peaceful will of the demonstrators. An observer from France 24, Mellit Derr, reports, the day after the tragedy, the testimony of her Malagasy ’contact’: ’It was a peaceful movement, we came with flowers, precisely to show that we had no weapons, that we weren’t there to hit people (...). Everyone was in good spirits, we were happy to see many of our friends again.’ After Thursday’s clashes in Antananarivo, the authorities imposed a night-time curfew in the capital, from 7 p.m. to 5 a.m. And, relative calm has been established since then in all the island’s cities.

By denouncing corrupt elites, the Gen Z Madagascar movement targets a disease that gnaws at a country with considerable resources but where 80% of the population, nearly 22.4 million people out of 31 million inhabitants, live below the international poverty line, an income of less than $2.15 (€1.95) per day. Poverty particularly affects rural areas, where the majority of the population depends on subsistence agriculture and hardly benefits from access to basic services (education, health, infrastructure), but urban poverty is also increasing, particularly on the outskirts of Antananarivo due to massive rural exodus. And young people are often victims of high unemployment and struggle to find skilled jobs. Among young people aged 18 to 35, the unemployment rate reaches approximately 42%. This youth, although more educated than previous generations, is affected by unemployment due to a saturated labour market, lack of appropriate training and experience, and the mismatch between qualifications and market expectations.

This generation’s share in the current protest movements expresses the disillusionment that undermines it. This observation has become a sort of law of (dys)functioning of financialised capitalist societies. ’Whilst the Human Development Index (HDI) is progressing globally, Madagascar remains trapped in a worrying paradox. Despite a slight improvement in its score, internal inequalities are worsening, relegating a large part of the population to the margins of progress’, notes the newspaper Midi Madagasykara in an article from 27 September. GDP per capita for 2025, estimated at $516 (€469) by BPI [2] experts, remains very low and places Madagascar amongst the lowest countries in African and global rankings on this indicator.

The UNDP’s [3] preliminary 2025 report on Human Development highlights a worrying situation. In 2023, Madagascar ranked fifth lowest in the world in terms of HDI, ranking 150^th out of 166 countries, with an index of 0.529, well below the regional average for sub-Saharan Africa (0.574) and the global average (0.739). This score masks, however, much harsher realities. Internal inequalities cancel out nearly 28% of human development gains, according to the calculation of the IHDI [4]. This means that the recorded growth only benefits a restricted fraction of the population. The gaps are particularly visible in terms of access to healthcare, quality education and decent incomes.

Yet, yet, nature has endowed the country with great wealth. Madagascar is the world’s leading vanilla producer, covering nearly 85% of global production, exported mainly to the perfume and confectionery sectors. The eastern coast is fertile and also grows renowned coffee plants. Around the western coast, sugar cane, rice, maize, pepper and cocoa are cultivated.

But, above all, Madagascar has vast reserves of nickel, cobalt, gold, sapphire, titanium, chrome, bauxite and graphite, precious stones. These mineral resources are currently estimated at nearly $800 billion (€727 billion)! So who exploits these riches, who confiscates the work of the Malagasy people?

Madagascar’s mineral wealth is controlled by several actors, mainly foreign companies allied, sometimes, with the Malagasy state. Three major actors exploit the country’s wealth. First, in Toliara, a project called ’Base Toliara’, named after this mine in the south-west of the island. This project is led by Base Resources, an Australian company that was recently taken over by an American company, Energy Fuels Resources Inc. It exploits a major deposit of ilmenite [5] (iron and titanium oxide) in south-western Madagascar (Ranobe). This mining project, which will be launched in 2027, is one of the country’s largest mining investments in a decade. It plans significant production of ilmenite, rutile, zircon and monazite over 38 years. Main objective: to supply Western countries with rare earths [6]. But the Base Toliara project is strongly contested. Since its suspension in 2019, civil society movements have denounced the serious environmental and social impacts. The project threatens the local ecosystem, notably the Mikea forest [7] and the way of life of farming, fishing and herding populations. There have been violent demonstrations and strong local opposition, particularly regarding risks to biodiversity, water resources and indigenous peoples’ rights. After a mining code reform, the project’s suspension was lifted in November 2024 by the Malagasy government, prompting significant mobilisation and severe repression against opponents.

Where we find Rio Tinto again...

The country’s second exploiter is Ambatovy Minerals SA, which operates one of Madagascar’s largest mining projects with an investment exceeding $8 billion (€7.3 billion), in nickel and cobalt extraction. This company is currently the only one eligible for the advantages provided in the law on major mining investments. Finally, the company QMM (QIT Madagascar Minerals), owned 80% by the international mining group Rio Tinto and 20% by the Malagasy government, exploits mineralised sands containing ilmenite and zircon.

Rio Tinto’s history is worth the detour. It is, in a way, emblematic of capitalism’s voracity and the planetary destruction that goes with it. Rio Tinto is an Anglo-Australian multinational mining group, one of the world’s largest. Its headquarters are shared between Melbourne in Australia and London in the United Kingdom. The group specialises in the extraction and production of various minerals, notably aluminium, iron, copper, coal and gold. The name Rio Tinto dates back to an ancient mining operation in Spain, in the Andalusia region, where the Rio Tinto mining basin had been exploited for over 2,000 years. The modern Rio Tinto company was created in 1873, from the takeover of these Spanish mines, and became famous for its significant copper production at the end of the 19^th century. Today, this giant owns assets mainly in Australia, Canada, North America, Latin America and Africa. After the takeover of Canadian company Alcan in 2007, aluminium now constitutes the group’s main activity by volume. Rio Tinto, in its own way, has also marked history. Against its destructive exploitation, the inhabitants of this Spanish region rebelled and organised in 1888 what can be considered the first ecological demonstrations in history. On 4 February 1888, the moment was brutally repressed: the Spanish army, called by the mine management and authorities, opened fire on the crowd, causing between 100 and 200 deaths.

In Madagascar, as in other regions of the world, the youth who identify with this ’Generation Z’ have taken up the torch of this protest that is both social and ecological. In Madagascar, at the origin of massive mobilisations against the deterioration of living conditions, the ’Gen Z’ movement does not function according to a classical model: it does not have, for example, identified leaders or official spokespersons. Recent demonstrations are coordinated through social media and inspired by international examples, favouring collective action and decentralisation. Their emblem, for them as for this sort of International that acts throughout the world and refuses to be led by ’chiefs’, is the Jolly Roger pirate flag from the animated series One Piece [8]. The Malagasy ’Gen Z’ movement thus sees itself as a horizontally structured organisation, without a leader, using networks to debate and protest, driven by collective and digital dynamics. This international movement has numerous demonstrations to its credit. Thus the ’Fridays for Future’ movement initiated by Greta Thunberg, which gave rise to global climate marches, or the organisation ’Zero Hour’ by Jamie Margolin, based in the United States, which mobilises young people internationally against climate change.

Let us also note these local and national mobilisations led by ’Gen Z’ in India, Nigeria, Brazil and Europe that have emerged on themes such as the environment, equality, civil rights and feminism, often structured by collectives, not by exclusive leaders.

Let us finally recall that a so-called ’Generation Z’ revolt has just taken place in Nepal. From 8 September, Nepal – wedged between the Indian and Chinese behemoths – became the epicentre of an unprecedented political earthquake. What was initially just a fit of anger from connected youth transformed into a national revolt. Local media baptised it ’the Generation Z Revolution’. Result: a government pushed towards the exit, dozens dead, hundreds injured, and an upturned political landscape. In this country too, youth are desperate. The hated children of families of corrupt rich and powerful parading with all their finery and jewels are denounced as ’Nepo Kids’. The hashtag #Nepobabies circulated widely to criticise these children of powerful leaders displaying their extravagant lifestyles on social media platforms. Whilst 20% of 15- to 24-year-olds are reduced to unemployment and many others survive on poverty wages, a third of children aged 5 to 17 work, often in dangerous conditions, with a large proportion combining work and school absence. Children’s early labour is mainly linked to family poverty.

Under the title ’From Screen to Streets: the Timeline of an Explosion’, the Baku Network [9] reported on 11 September 2025 on the Nepalese revolt: ’It all started with a technocratic decision, seemingly innocuous: blocking 26 social networks – Facebook, X (formerly Twitter), YouTube, Instagram or even LinkedIn – for non-compliance with registration procedures imposed by the Ministry of Telecommunications. But behind this regulatory pretext hid a social powder keg: massive unemployment, endemic corruption, a broken social lift for educated youth with no future.’

From Nepal to Madagascar, we are changing eras. Young generations are seizing today’s communication tools to transform them into tomorrow’s weapons of struggle. As two researchers, Raphaël Lupovici and Mélanie Lecha, remind us in the 3 July 2025 issue of La Revue politique: ’The mediatisation of social movements has been transformed under the influence of digital technologies, to the point that certain mobilisations have made the gamble of emancipating themselves from traditional logics of representation by relying on online communication.’ What was thus the perfect tool for the fragmentation of society and the individual-king withdrawing to his Aventine hill [10] of social life, thus transforms into a means of gathering to change society. As one of the masters of despair, Thomas Bernhard, said: ’Beauty is the unexpected’.

Michel Strulovici