South Africa hosted the world’s economic powerhouses in Johannesburg in November, and by all accounts it was a success, diplomatically, logistically and symbolically.
The G20 arrived with the usual entourage of motorcades, security convoys, policy papers and high expectations and the country rose to the occasion with the kind of precision and excellence the world has come to expect from us.
It was another reminder that when South Africa chooses to show up on the global stage, we do so with a level of competence that rivals and often surpasses many developed nations.
To be fair, this is not new. From the 1995 Rugby World Cup, COP17 to the 2010 FIFA World Cup, South Africa has consistently demonstrated its ability to host world-class events. We build, coordinate, deliver and impress. But the thread running through all these achievements is also the source of our deepest frustration. Our ability to execute large-scale, high-pressure projects when the world is watching has not translated into our ability to address the daily crises that suffocate ordinary South Africans. The same efficiency that delivers stadiums, security plans, clean streets and flawless logistics for international visitors disappears the moment the last motorcade leaves OR Tambo.
And so, quite frankly, the G20 is yet to mean anything for Joe Soap.
The chasm between what we deliver for global audiences and what we fail to deliver for our own people is widening. Nowhere is this more visible than in human settlements. With an estimated 2,600 to 4,000 informal settlements countrywide. Home to between 2.9-million and 5-million people, we are confronted with a humanitarian crisis we have normalised. Dealing with this effectively would require vision, coordination and political courage. But those are qualities we seem to reserve exclusively for global events.
Perhaps it is because global validation has become more valuable to our political leadership than domestic accountability.
The G20 declaration emphasised emergency response, resilience and infrastructure strengthening. Yet we continue to face floods in KwaZulu-Natal that wreak havoc while killing people and displacing families in patterns that repeat every year. Our disaster management capabilities flicker to life for cameras during international engagements, but in the face of our own people’s suffering, they are nowhere to be found.
Weeks before the G20, the host Johannesburg experienced an overnight transformation that bordered on miraculous. Potholes were filled at a pace we have not seen in years. Roads were repainted. Stormwater drains, usually clogged for months, were suddenly operational. Grass on verges and public spaces was trimmed. Streetlights flickered back to life in places that had not had functional lights for a long time. It was as if the city remembered what it was supposed to look like.
But ordinary residents know the truth in that this was not renewal, it was cosmetic surgery. A rush to disguise dysfunction before world leaders arrived. And now that the convoys have left, the concern (which is justified and widespread), is that we will return to the regular programming of decay, grime, hijacked buildings, lawlessness and leadership paralysis.
To make matters worse, the G20 declaration itself seems misaligned with our own political and governance realities. While the government of national unity (GNU) partners lined up proudly to praise the document, the commitments it outlines stand in stark contrast to what is unfolding domestically.
The declaration speaks of shared prosperity, inclusion and building equitable economies. Yet the DA seems to be actively pursuing proposals that appear to undermine economic inclusion for the poor and working class. They are committed to a regress agenda.
We also heard lofty commitments in the declaration about reducing inequality and tackling unemployment, but when the minister of finance delivered his recent budget, none of these commitments were reflected. What we received instead was a dry, conservative, risk-averse document that offered no bold interventions, no catalytic levers and certainly no alignment with the G20’s call for meaningful, inclusive economic transformation.
Universal health coverage was another highlight of the G20 agenda. But that conversation, too, means little in a country where the private health-care sector is in open combat with government. Provincial health systems are collapsing. Clinics remain understaffed and under-resourced. Corruption, procurement failures and infrastructure breakdowns define the experience of the poor in our health system.
Signing a declaration does not translate into measurably improved patient care, and ordinary citizens have long stopped being moved by policy language that never materialises into service delivery.
The tragedy is that South Africa has the capacity. We have demonstrated it time and again. We mobilise resources rapidly when international eyes are on us. We coordinate across spheres of government when foreign dignitaries depend on it. We implement infrastructure projects under tight deadlines when global reputations are at stake. This leads me to question why this competence vanishes when the beneficiaries are our own people?
Perhaps it is because global validation has become more valuable to our political leadership than domestic accountability. Or perhaps it is because large scale domestic interventions require difficult choices. This includes cleaning up corruption, disciplining failing municipalities, prioritising maintenance and confronting vested interests that prefer chaos to change.
The G20 summit was a diplomatic win, a public relations win, and a testament to South Africa’s global relevance. It showcased what the country can be when excellence is non-negotiable. But excellence for the world means nothing if it cannot be replicated for the majority of the people of this country.
Quite frankly, congratulations are in order for hosting a successful G20. But the mothers raising children in shacks that burn every winter, the families who drown in predictable floods, the patients who die waiting in understaffed clinics, these citizens are waiting for a different kind of victory.
A victory where South Africa performs for its own people with the same urgency and brilliance it performs for the world. Until then, the G20 remains a beautiful show that leaves Joe Soap exactly where he has always been, watching from the sidelines, applauding a national achievement that still does nothing to change his life.
• Professor JJ Tabane is the Editor of Leadership Magazine
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