The anxieties shaping this debate were laid bare at the African Climate Summit earlier this month. Kenya’s President, William Ruto, used the platform to deliver a stinging rebuke to Western nations, accusing them of breaking what he called a climate blood pact. His message was stark. Africa contributes just 4% of global emissions, yet it bears the greatest burden of climate devastation, from droughts and floods to food insecurity. His frustration was widely shared by African leaders and climate scholars who see climate finance pledges consistently missed, rebranded, or watered down. The Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD) compounded this sense of betrayal when it projected that aid flows to Africa would likely decline through 2027, backsliding to levels not seen since 2020. For a continent grappling with escalating climate emergencies, this is not just disappointing, it is devastating. 

Inequality and the Limits of Rhetoric

Climate finance is another area where the gap between promise and delivery undermines trust. In 2009, rich nations pledged to mobilise $100 billion annually to support developing countries in tackling climate change. Yet by 2021, actual flows reached only $89.6 billion, and even that figure was inflated by loans counted as aid. For countries like South Africa, which continue to struggle with persistent load-shedding, collapsing infrastructure, and rising inequality, half-measures and creative accounting are of little use. What is required is genuine investment in sustainable growth, not symbolic gestures designed to placate public opinion.

The erosion of climate finance reveals something much deeper than broken promises. It exposes the architecture of global inequality that underpins international financial systems. South Africa, to its credit, has sought to put inequality front and centre by commissioning Nobel laureate economist Joseph Stiglitz to prepare a report ahead of the summit. The scale of inequality is staggering. Oxfam estimates that since 2015, the wealth of the richest 1% has ballooned by $33.9 trillion, an amount sufficient to end global poverty more than twenty times over. Numbers like these sharpen the challenge facing global forums such as the G20. Symbolism alone is no longer enough. If the G20 is to retain any credibility, it must show it can address inequality not just with words but through measurable action.

The G20’s Record of Half Measures

There have been moments where the G20 has acted decisively. During the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Debt Service Suspension Initiative deferred some $12.9 billion in payments for low-income countries. That intervention offered temporary breathing space, but when placed alongside the IMF’s estimate that those same countries needed more than $450 billion merely to stabilise their economies, the inadequacy is glaring. This mismatch between rhetoric and reality has become a recurring feature of the G20’s record.

Critics argue that part of the problem lies in the G20’s very structure. Economists at the University of Pretoria describe the forum as “elitist, self-selected, and unrepresentative,” pointing out that it excludes many of the voices it claims to represent. Civil society actors complain that the G20 is detached from realities on the ground, lacking any mechanisms to hold members accountable or to ensure that commitments survive beyond glossy communiqués. Trade studies underscore the same point, showing that logistics efficiency is a key driver of development, yet concrete reforms seldom emerge from the G20’s deliberations. As COSATU president Zingiswa Losi recently warned, international resolutions on coal financing often fail to consider domestic emissions and, in South Africa’s case, the economic needs of workers whose livelihoods remain precarious. For many citizens, the G20 has become a vessel for false hope rather than meaningful change.

Johannesburg as a Mirror of Global Inequality

Despite this all, to dismiss the forum entirely would be premature. There are areas where the G20 can and does matter. South Africa has been vocal in pushing for action against illicit financial flows, which drain an estimated $1.5 trillion annually from developing states. Drafting principles to curb these outflows could represent a long-overdue structural reform. Similarly, African negotiators have advanced the idea of recalibrating GDP to account for natural capital, forests, biodiversity and ecosystems, so that debt ratios more accurately reflect economic realities. Such a measure could unlock more favourable lending terms for countries that are rich in natural resources but cash poor. These are ambitious ideas with real potential, though sceptics, including myself remain unconvinced that the G20 has the political will to translate them into policy.

Hosting the summit in Johannesburg adds another layer of symbolism. The city itself, with its crumbling infrastructure, unreliable services, and rolling power outages, is in many ways a microcosm of the very challenges the G20 claims to address. This juxtaposition makes Johannesburg a fitting backdrop. Unless the forum can deliver tangible improvements for ordinary citizens, it risks being remembered as a theatre of vanity rather than a conduit for justice.

The inclusion of the African Union (AU) as a permanent member of the G20 does offer an opportunity for greater legitimacy and political leverage, but legitimacy without action is fragile. The issues on the table of debt relief, climate financing, tax fairness, youth employment, digital access, and social protections, are not abstract talking points; they are existential challenges for millions across the Global South, for young Africans struggling to find work, for communities left without reliable energy, and for economies weighed down by unsustainable debt, the outcomes of the summit will have real consequences.

Ultimately, the world will judge the Johannesburg summit not by the eloquence of its speeches or the choreography of its photo opportunities, but by whether it leaves behind measurable improvements in people’s lives. South Africa has framed this presidency as an opportunity to centre African and Global South concerns on the global stage. The question is whether this opportunity will be seized. If the summit delivers on debt relief, climate finance, and structural reform, the G20 may yet prove its relevance. If not, it risks cementing its reputation as the world’s most expensive talk shop.