There are moments in history when there’s nothing much — or nothing of consequence — that the leader of the world’s biggest economy can say. This is one such moment.
Not that US President Donald Trump is a man of reason, or one inclined to rational engagement. But right now, nothing he says will stop the bus. As they say in law, the horse has bolted. The G20 Leaders’ Summit is a runaway success.
A leader he once dismissed as a novice, someone to bully in the Oval Office, a leader in whose country “very many bad things are happening” has just pulled — with panache — the proverbial carpet right out from under his feet. It was a display of political nous, geopolitical heft and grace in the face of unabashed bullying. President Cyril Ramaphosa delivered a masterclass whose lesson we hope is not lost on Trump: having a big economy doesn’t make you great, superior or remotely smarter than anyone else. You can be rich and stupid at the same time.
Now Trump, who mistakenly believed that his absence would render the event a damp squib, finds himself like an unmoored ship — adrift and buffeted by crosswinds.
The adoption of the G20 Declaration in Joburg became the centrepiece, a defining vignette for hosting the gathering on African soil for the first time — something the emperor of Washington opposed and sought to sabotage at every stage.
One moment Trump was not coming, then he was, and then he wasn’t again, and finally, very late in the day, no US government official would attend the G20. As he realised the unmistakable and beautiful build-up to the leaders’ summit, he decided some juniors from Pretoria should attend.
When this was thwarted, his ill-mannered spokesperson turned vituperative, running her mouth as it were, the irony of her disrespect lost on her. Desperation does that, even to the best among us. But what else was the US to do?
Not only did the world’s leaders show up, but their officials participated and endorsed (Argentina aside) a declaration aligned with South Africa’s inclusive theme of diversity, equality and unity, fostering global collaboration. Somehow, bizarrely, this riles the bad band in Washington.
Not only did the world’s leaders show up, but their officials participated and endorsed (Argentina aside) a declaration aligned with South Africa’s inclusive theme of diversity, equality and unity, fostering global collaboration. Somehow, bizarrely, this riles the bad band in Washington.
As leaders from across the globe embraced the work done by South Africa, Trump sought diversions. He announced a deadline for Ukraine to agree to Russia’s terms for ending the war — not because he is such a great campaigner for peace, but because the thought of a successful G20 unfolding without him must have been nauseating. Something had to be said to distract, to redirect attention back to the great emperor in Washington. It was almost as if he wished to send the message: “While all of you are gathered in Joburg, I am resolving the big war involving my friend Putin.”
Before that, the US delivered doses of lenacapavir, an HIV/Aids prevention drug, to Eswatini and Zambia, while excluding South Africa, the country with the world’s largest HIV-positive population. Clearly, if the US genuinely wanted to help those living with HIV, why exclude those the most affected? Days later, the US unexpectedly announced a R80.25bn pledge at the Global Fund Replenishment drive on the sidelines of the G20 in Johannesburg — almost as if to remind everyone who the emperor is.
This was Trump’s FOMO — fear of missing out – playing itself out publicly.
Whatever the outcome of the G20 later today, we can be proud that South Africa has made a historic contribution to multilateralism, driving debate on issues that made a few unreconstructed types writhe in pain, and left them as bystanders.
What is hard to escape is not the ridiculous stance of the US and its ill-mannered spokespeople; it’s how the work of the various task forces focused on what matters: the global financial architecture and how it must be restructured to include those it has deliberately impoverished for decades.
The Think20 (T20), comprising think tanks and academics, put forward what they describe as “high-impact, evidence-based” policy recommendations, with “international financial architecture reform” as their top recommendation. The G20 Africa expert panel, chaired by former finance minister Trevor Manuel, focused on the cost of capital and credit agency reform, and suggested a borrowers’ club to strengthen the voice and bargaining power of debtor countries with a view to influencing the terms and cost of future borrowing.
The B20, especially its finance and infrastructure task force, focused on “inclusive growth, industrialisation and acceleration of digital inclusion”. The Media20 issued a warning that information integrity must be prioritised to ensure Big Tech does not pollute the news and information ecosystem with misinformation that could cause instability across the globe.
The point is that the focus was on important, tangible issues — not Trump’s tantrums — and the challenge now is to ensure that, despite the US’s chairship of the G20 in 2026, the agenda remains progressive.
Some critics dismiss the G20 as a talk shop. But how else is the world to move towards a better, more equal and inclusive place without talking?
How are the issues that have made the cost of capital inhibitive in Africa going to be addressed without first talking about them, identifying specifics and — importantly — talking to the people who matter, the G20, with a view to making the cost of capital less onerous?
Trump’s absence was, in fact, a blessing.
The G20 Leaders’ Summit was South Africa’s moment to shine. And shine we did. What Trump says after the fact is of little consequence; it won’t stop the bus. The horse has bolted. The so-called leader of the free world has been outperformed. The emperor stands alone and isolated — at least for now.
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