By Tim Cocks
ANTANANARIVO (Reuters) – The thousands of young protesters chanting vitriolic slogans against Madagascar’s President Andry Rajoelina in Antananarivo were clear about what they wanted him to do.
“He has to resign. Immediately,” Angie Rakoto, a 21-year-old law and politics student, said at a rally this week in Plaza 13 de Mayo, named after a 1972 youth-led revolution that toppled the first post-independence president, Philbert Tsiranana.
When asked what should come next, he shrugged.
“Honestly, I have no idea who should replace him,” he said, as a crowd chanted “Rajoelina, get out!” behind her. “But it has to be someone who is here for the Malagasy people, not himself.”
Rakoto and thousands of Generation Z protesters who have staged weeks of demonstrations against Rajoelina have smelled victory since the president fled on a French military plane.
While Rajoelina has not formally resigned, on Tuesday the National Assembly ousted him and the military filled the void to seize power, according to an army colonel who led a mutiny in support of the protesters.
GEN Z’S ANGER DRIVES THE PROTEST
The Madagascar unrest seems typical of youth-led protest movements around the world in recent weeks: Protesters are desperate for change but unsure what it will look like.
What began as an uprising against chronic energy and water shortages on the southern African island last month quickly morphed into a demand for the president to resign. It gained momentum over the weekend when the elite military unit that brought Rajoelina to power in 2009 backed the protest.
One of its commanders, Col. Michael Randrianirina, told a cheering crowd and announced on national radio Tuesday that the military was dissolving most institutions and would rule.
Public anger has mirrored similar demonstrations in countries as diverse as Morocco, Peru and Nepal, where young people have marched to denounce inequality, unemployment, the cost of living, deteriorating public services and corruption.
At the protests in Madagascar, participants used a flag depicting a skull in a straw hat from the Japanese manga series “One Piece,” a common symbol at Generation Z protests worldwide.
Many feel they are ruled by elites made up primarily of older men who have ignored their problems or made them worse while minding their own business.
With the protest movement leaderless and the army playing a role in turning the tide against Rajoelina, it seemed increasingly likely that a military man would take over.
That doesn’t seem to worry many protesters, even though after Tsiranana’s fall, two successive military leaders ruined the economy.
“A military man, if he cares about the territory, is fine,” said Fanizy Razafimandimby, a 30-year-old mechanic in the square flanked by colonial buildings between two steep hills.
“That’s for the transition. Our hope is that there is someone who can repair things.”
Asked who it could be, he said: “I don’t have anyone specific in mind,” echoing the responses of a dozen other protesters interviewed by Reuters.
AN ISLAND STATE SUMMARY IN POVERTY
Madagascar remains one of the poorest countries in the world, even compared to most of the African continent. Three-quarters of people live below the World Bank’s poverty line of $2.15 a day, a proportion that has barely changed in four decades.
The average income is $600 a year. The Indian Ocean island, whose average age is 19, ranks in the bottom 20 of the U.N. Human Development Index, which looks at a wide range of well-being metrics.
Some of those gathered at the protest wore torn, dusty clothes, while barefoot children hovered among them, rubbing their stomachs and holding out their palms to ask for change.
Many Malagasy people blamed former colonialist France for their problems, and young people who took the microphone at the protest repeatedly denounced Rajoelina’s dual citizenship and her perceived closeness to France.
Mamisoa Ravonsinirina, 30, knows firsthand how angry people are about power outages: she works in a call center handling complaints on behalf of the national electricity supplier.
“We have to calm them down. I tell them things will get better,” he said, as he marched down a street alongside protesters holding a Malagasy flag. “But I know the reality.”
His own home was not spared from power and water shortages, and with his salary of 700,000 ariary ($150) a month – even with a master’s degree – he has fought against rising food prices.
Madagascar’s economy depends on raw materials: vanilla, of which it produces two-thirds of the world’s supply; minerals such as nickel, sapphires and ilmenite, a pigment used to whiten things like plastics and toothpaste; seafood; and textiles.
Successive governments have failed to generate prosperity from these precious assets, and Rajoelina’s broken promises to do so were a major theme of the protest.
“We ask for jobs, we ask for electricity, we ask for rice that we can afford, and what do we get? Damn speeches,” said André Hassana, 26, a tour guide specializing in English-speaking tourists.
When asked if Rajoelina’s replacement could be that bad, he replied: “Not this time. The Malagasy learn well. We will not tolerate this again.”
(Reporting by Tim Cocks; editing by Silvia Aloisi and Andrew Cawthorne)