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Madagascar and Seychelles illustrate two opposing currents in Africa’s political seascape — one turbulent and uncertain, the other calm yet cyclical. Whether either can steer toward lasting democratic stability remains to be seen.
In October 2025, two neighbouring Western Indian Ocean island nations, Madagascar and Seychelles, underwent power transitions. Yet, while both marked a power transfer, their trajectories could hardly have been more different. Madagascar descended into military-led upheaval following youth-led protests, while Seychelles witnessed a peaceful electoral turnover. Together, their stories highlight the contrasting faces of political change in the Indian Ocean region.
Political turbulence and coups are not alien to Malagasy politics. Since gaining independence in 1960, the country has endured several coups and military interventions, often driven by discontent due to corruption and economic hardship. The latest episode unfolded on 25 September, when Gen-Z protesters — young people born between 1996 and 2010 — filled the streets of Antananarivo and other cities. Their anger stemmed from daily power outages, chronic water shortages, and pervasive corruption. What began as protests over economic issues soon escalated into demands for political reform and the resignation of President Andry Rajoelina.
Rajoelina’s government initially responded with repression, but the crackdown failed to quell the demonstrations. When negotiations with youth leaders collapsed, the situation spiralled out of control. The balance of power shifted drastically when the powerful CAPSAT gendarmerie, formally known as the Corps of Personnel and Administrative and Technical Services, rallied its support for the protesters. Their defection sealed the president’s fate. Rajoelina fled the country, leaving a political vacuum that Parliament filled on 14 October by voting 130–1 to impeach him for “abandonment of office”. The High Constitutional Court swiftly endorsed the decision and appointed Colonel Michael Randrianirina, head of CAPSAT, as interim president. He was sworn in on 17 October, promising stability and reform.
The upheaval in Madagascar contrasts starkly with the peaceful political transition in its neighbouring island nation, Seychelles. President Wavel Ramkalawan, who steered the country through the COVID-19 pandemic and improved public finances, lost his re-election bid. He lost to 62-year-old Patrick Herminie, a medical doctor and former parliamentary speaker (2007–2016), and promised a smooth handover, a rarity in many African contexts.
Madagascar’s transition stemmed from street unrest and was sealed by a military takeover; in Seychelles, the change occurred peacefully at the ballot box.
In his victory speech, Herminie pledged to lower the cost of living, enhance public services, and implement long-delayed recommendations from the Truth and Reconciliation Commission that investigated human rights abuses dating back to the 1977 coup. He also vowed to reduce the retirement age from 65 to 63, positioning himself as a pragmatic reformer.
Though both island nations underwent leadership change, the contrast in tone and outcome is stark. Madagascar’s transition stemmed from street unrest and was sealed by a military takeover; in Seychelles, the change occurred peacefully at the ballot box. The divergence reflects deeper political cultures and institutional strengths.
In Madagascar, the youth-led revolt echoed broader global patterns of generational frustration — as seen in other African countries such as Kenya and Morocco — movements driven by inequality, corruption, and exclusion. Yet, as with many military-led takeovers in Africa, the ouster of an unpopular leader rarely translates into democratic renewal. Popular uprisings often end up hijacked by the very forces they sought to dislodge.
While many Malagasy celebrate Rajoelina’s removal as a people’s victory, it was ultimately the men with guns, and not the youth on the streets, who seized power. Despite the court advising him to implement a 60-day transition, Col. Michael Randrianirina pledged a two-year transition and a constitutional referendum. Coup leaders around the world have often made similar promises, only to break them.
While many Malagasy celebrate Rajoelina’s removal as a people’s victory, it was ultimately the men with guns, and not the youth on the streets, who seized power.
Across West Africa, similar stories have unfolded. Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger have each seen their militaries topple civilian governments in the name of reform, only to entrench themselves in power. In Mali, General Assimi Goïta promised elections after his 2021 coup but later secured a five-year mandate without a vote, renewable “as many times as necessary” and without requiring an election.
In Burkina Faso, Captain Ibrahim Traoré indefinitely postponed elections after seizing power in 2022. In July 2025, he disbanded the country’s electoral commission, calling it a waste of money and ensuring his stay in power until at least July 2029. In Niger, the junta has likewise extended its so-called democratic transition to 2030. Such precedents cast doubt on Madagascar’s near-term democratic prospects.
Seychelles’ peaceful transition, on the other hand, offers a rare contrast, though it also reflects cyclical patterns of political dominance. Ramkalawan’s Linyon Demokratik Seselwa (LDS) coalition, in a landmark victory, broke the ruling United Seychelles Party’s (USP) 43-year hold on power in 2020. Yet, only five years later, voters returned to the grand-old party, giving Herminie a narrow 52.7 percent win over Ramkalawan’s 47.3 percent.
The twin transitions in Madagascar and Seychelles rekindle an enduring question first raised during the Arab Spring: Does a change of government necessarily signal democratic progress?
The reasons were manifold. While Ramkalawan managed a commendable COVID-19 recovery and fiscal stabilisation, corruption scandals and rising living costs eroded his popularity. A controversial decision to allow Qatari investors to build a luxury resort on Assumption Island, near the UNESCO-listed Aldabra Atoll — home to the world’s largest population of giant tortoises — alienated environmentalists and nationalists alike.
Herminie, by contrast, leveraged his medical background and anti-drug credentials in a country where an estimated 5,000–10,000 citizens out of 120,000 are heroin addicts. Allegations that Ramkalawan’s administration had become increasingly authoritarian — most notably through the bizarre arrest of Herminie and several party members on “witchcraft” charges — further damaged the incumbent’s image.
Yet, Seychelles’ outcome also mirrors trends elsewhere in Africa, where ruling parties often stage comebacks after brief electoral setbacks. In Malawi, for instance, President Lazarus Chakwera, who came to power after a court-overturned election in 2020, was voted out by a landslide after just one term in office, paving the way for the return of the Mutharika family dynasty. Such reversals suggest that opposition victories, while symbolically significant, rarely dismantle entrenched political networks.
The twin transitions in Madagascar and Seychelles rekindle an enduring question first raised during the Arab Spring: Does a change of government necessarily signal democratic progress? In Madagascar’s case, the removal of an authoritarian incumbent may seem a step forward, but unless the military swiftly restores civilian rule, the outcome may recycle past failures. Whether the army will honour its pledge to follow a transitional timetable remains uncertain.
Despite their geographic proximity, both island nations stand at different political crossroads. Madagascar faces the challenge of restoring democracy after another military seizure of power; Seychelles must ensure that peaceful alternation does not mask the persistence of entrenched elites.
In Seychelles, the return of the long-ruling party presents its own test. Herminie must prove that his leadership represents renewal rather than regression by tackling corruption, addressing drug addiction, and defending the country’s fragile ecosystem against unsustainable development projects. His success will determine whether Seychelles can consolidate its democratic institutions or slip back into old habits of one-party dominance.
Despite their geographic proximity, both island nations stand at different political crossroads. Madagascar faces the challenge of restoring democracy after another military seizure of power; Seychelles must ensure that peaceful alternation does not mask the persistence of entrenched elites. Despite their different trajectories, both Madagascar and Seychelles now face the same test — steering their nations toward lasting democratic stability.
Samir Bhattacharya is an Associate Fellow at the Observer Research Foundation.
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Samir Bhattacharya is an Associate Fellow at Observer Research Foundation (ORF), where he works on geopolitics with particular reference to Africa in the changing global ...
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