Trump-ed it: The Johannesburg Declaration placed debt relief, climate finance and fair value for critical
minerals at the centre of the global agenda. Photo: Gauteng Provincial Government
South Africa is standing firm after a bruising week of diplomatic tension with the United States over the G20. As a result, President Donald Trump vowed not to invite the country to next year’s summit in Florida after he snubbed this past weekend’s forum in Johannesburg.
Angry that South Africa refused to agree to President Cyril Ramaphosa handing over the G20 presidency to a junior US representative, Trump took to social media to say he had directed that “South Africa will NOT be receiving an invitation to the 2026 G20, which will be hosted in the Great City of Miami, Florida next year”.
Despite Washington’s political theatrics, Pretoria is moving to consolidate the gains of its successful G20 presidency and to rally other members around the principle of consensus. Government officials say the focus now is on ensuring the US takeover does not derail the workstreams on debt relief, climate finance and inclusive growth that defined the Johannesburg summit.
“South Africa will continue to participate as a full, active and constructive member of the G20. We call on all members of the G20 to reaffirm its continued operation in the spirit of multilateralism based on consensus, with all members participating on an equal footing in all of its structures,” presidential spokesperson Vincent Magwenya said.
“It is regrettable that despite the efforts and numerous attempts by President Ramaphosa and his administration to reset the diplomatic relationship with the United States, President Trump continues to apply punitive measures against South Africa based on misinformation and distortions about our country.”
The presidency dismissed Trump’s attempt to question South Africa’s place in the forum, calling his remarks false and undiplomatic. But beyond the rebuttal, South African diplomats are quietly working with G20 partners to insulate the group’s agenda from American domestic politics in the run-up to the 2026 summit in Miami.
Behind the restrained language lies irritation at what officials describe as political theatre.
Pretoria says the handover process at the department of international relations followed protocol and that the substance of its presidency stands.
The Johannesburg Declaration placed debt relief, climate finance and fair value for critical minerals at the centre of the global agenda. Trump’s intervention shifted attention from that work to an argument about status and punishment.
South Africa’s risk is not expulsion, which the G20’s rules do not allow, but a year of disruption that could blunt the gains of its presidency.
Officials have chosen to respond with composure and precision, restating that South Africa remains a full G20 member, that all processes were completed through proper channels, and that it expects partners to act in the spirit of consensus.
Clayson Monyela, the head of public diplomacy at the Department of International Relations and Cooperation, posted online that South Africa does not get invited to G20 meetings because it is not a guest. It is a member and part of the Troika of outgoing, current and incoming presidencies.
If the diplomatic storm fades quickly, the deeper test will be whether Pretoria can turn a successful summit into durable influence while navigating a volatile White House and a fragile economy at home.
For two days at Nasrec last weekend, Ramaphosa looked like the president he once promised to be. The G20 summit gave him what South African politics rarely does: applause, order and a sense of control. After months of strain inside the ANC and an economy that refuses to grow, he stood before world leaders as a calm broker who delivered the Johannesburg Declaration even without Washington’s participation.
The weekend lifted him higher than he has been in years. It was a rare stretch of calm, a display of confidence and organisation that cut through political fatigue. Yet as the applause faded, the question that followed was not about diplomacy but endurance. Could Ramaphosa convert that global praise into domestic credibility?
The summit itself was a calculated success. South Africa persuaded every G20 member except the US to sign a declaration that reflected its priorities. Adopting it at the start of the meeting rather than at the end broke with protocol and allowed Ramaphosa to appear as a unifier who could still forge consensus in a divided world.
“The adoption of the declaration from this summit sends an important signal to the world that multilateralism can and does deliver,” he told delegates. For that weekend, the message landed.
The country looked competent. Delegations praised the organisation, the warmth, the tone. For many South Africans, watching the president lead an orderly summit offered a fleeting sense of collective pride. Inside the ANC, that pride was real but complicated.
Senior figures said the event reminded them of the movement’s better years, when leadership carried moral weight and clarity.
One long-serving official said Ramaphosa’s performance “made us proud in how he hosted the world’s leaders”. Another added that while the declaration captured values of equality and cooperation, pride will not ease the frustration of power cuts and joblessness. Voters, he said, will judge on results rather than receptions.
That tension runs through Ramaphosa’s presidency. Abroad, he is calm and credible, the voice of moral authority from the Global South. At home, he presides over institutions frayed by neglect and a public weary of waiting for change. The G20 summit did not change that reality, but it briefly suspended it.
Yet the optimism it sparked collided quickly with a harder truth. South Africa’s renewed moral authority on the international stage stands in stark contrast to the corrosion at home.
This dissonance defines the country’s present moment, political analyst Imraan Buccus says. He argues that Africa’s revived global moral standing sits uneasily alongside a domestic landscape scarred by mass impoverishment and frightening levels of elite corruption, which he describes as political gangsterism.
Buccus recalls that even the budgets of public hospitals have been looted by politically connected networks.
“In 2021, Babita Deokaran, a civil servant, was murdered after exposing corruption in the health department. Assassinations have become a regular feature of South African life,” Buccus says. For him, this contradiction lies at the heart of the ANC’s decline.
“The challenge for the government is whether it can live up to the same principles it affirms abroad. As a violent and corrupt political elite continues to damage the country and its people, that seems unlikely.”
The G20 offered a glimpse of what South Africa could be when leadership is clear and coordinated. Ministers met deadlines, departments worked in sequence and there was a centre of command that gave direction and purpose.
It was a rare moment when the machinery of state moved in unison, showing what is still possible when governance is driven by focus rather than faction. Ramaphosa now has breathing room to act, but not the luxury of delay.
The ANC is already confronting an election that could cost it its majority. His supporters believe the G20 reminded South Africans of the value of stability and calm leadership. His critics warn that stability without delivery is hollow. They point to crumbling infrastructure and unfulfilled promises as evidence that words alone no longer persuade.
Among voters, expectations are sharper than they were a year ago. People want the efficiency of the G20 weekend to reach their daily lives. They want working streetlights, shorter power cuts, functioning clinics and accountability in municipalities.
They want to feel that the calm of Nasrec was not a performance for visitors but a demonstration of what the country can still be when it gets things right. The pride that spread across workplaces and social media after the summit had little to do with geopolitics. It came from the sense that, for once, South Africa was seen at its best. That pride is political energy if used wisely, but it will fade quickly if the government slides back into the rhythm of excuses and drift.
Ramaphosa’s next task is to bring that spirit home. The G20 showed that the country’s systems still respond when leadership is decisive. He now has to prove that the same clarity can fix Eskom, rebuild municipalities and restore integrity to governance. The goodwill from the summit gives him a window to act. What he does with it will define how history remembers him.
For now, he stands taller than he has in years. The G20 weekend reminded both his allies and his critics that he can still shape events rather than be shaped by them. Whether he can sustain that beyond the stage lights of Nasrec will determine the legacy of his presidency.
If he turns goodwill into delivery, the summit will be remembered as the moment his leadership found its purpose. If he does not, it will stand as a bright interlude in a darker story, the week South Africa stood up to Washington, hosted the world with grace, and came home to confront its own unfinished business.