Kira Alberts
Global leaders have convened for yet another attempt at collective climate action at the 29th Conference of the Parties (COP29) summit in Azerbaijan. The conference ends on Friday, November 22.
However, for many in the Global South, the conference has become synonymous with hollow promises, insincere solidarity, and the enduring imbalance of climate governance.
Unsurprisingly, COP29 is a bittersweet moment for the climate movement. On the one hand, the urgency of the crisis has never been clearer.
On the other, the fractures within the global community are deepening. For the Global South, the conversation at COP29 is expected to revolve around two recurring themes: finance and accountability.
Developed nations have repeatedly failed to honour their climate finance pledges, leaving vulnerable countries to foot the bill for a crisis they didn’t create. Meanwhile, accountability mechanisms to ensure emission reductions remain weak, particularly for the biggest polluters.
This leads to a key question: is there perhaps a better way we might harness democracy to confront climate change? The rise of climate assemblies, a form of democratic innovation rooted in deliberative democracy, offers some intriguing possibilities.
A climate assembly is a type of citizens’ assembly tasked with shaping climate policy. Composed of a representative sample of the population, these assemblies are grounded in the principles of deliberative democracy.
Participants are educated about climate science, provided with expert insights, and encouraged to deliberate on policy solutions. Their recommendations often carry significant weight in the policy-making process.
The allure of such assemblies lies in their potential to sidestep the often-polarised and unproductive debates that characterise traditional legislative bodies. Instead, they foster informed, thoughtful, and most importantly, inclusive dialogue. In doing so, they promise to make climate action not just a technocratic exercise, but a democratic one.
The Global South, including countries like South Africa, bears the brunt of climate change despite contributing the least to the crisis. Extreme weather events, water scarcity, and rising sea levels are hitting vulnerable communities hardest. Yet, these same populations are often excluded from meaningful climate decision-making.
In this context, climate assemblies could be transformative. Imagine assemblies that amplify the voices of subsistence farmers battling drought, informal settlement residents enduring flooding, or workers in coal-mining regions facing an uncertain future.
Such forums could ensure that climate policy reflects the lived realities of those most affected, rather than being dictated by elites or foreign interests.
Moreover, assemblies could challenge the colonial legacy embedded in global climate governance. By reclaiming agency over climate decisions, countries in the Global South can push back against the paternalistic tendencies of wealthier nations.
After all, why should countries most vulnerable to climate collapse rely on processes like COP that have consistently failed them?
South Africa’s climate dilemma is a microcosm of the Global South’s challenges. The country remains heavily dependent on coal, which accounts for around 80% of its electricity generation.
Transitioning away from fossil fuels is an economic and political minefield, particularly when communities throughout the country depend on coal for their livelihoods.
This is where a climate assembly could shine. It could bring together diverse stakeholders, miners, renewable energy advocates, scientists, and community leaders, to collaboratively chart a just transition.
Without such inclusive dialogue, South Africa risks perpetuating a command-and-control approach to climate governance that alienates communities and fuels resentment.
South Africa’s position at COP29 is particularly precarious. While it advocates for “common but differentiated responsibilities”, its reliance on coal undermines its credibility.
The much-lauded Just Energy Transition Investment Plan has made headlines, but implementation remains sluggish. Moreover, many question whether its $8.5 billion (R154bn) funding package will genuinely benefit those at the coalface of climate vulnerability or merely serve corporate and bureaucratic interests.
This disconnect underscores the democratic deficit at the heart of both global and national climate action.
Decisions made in faraway boardrooms and conference halls often fail to resonate with, or even reach, the grassroots.
Climate assemblies could be an antidote to this top-down approach.
They embody democratic innovation at its finest: empowering ordinary citizens to grapple with complex issues, challenge vested interests, and co-create solutions.
For South Africa, adopting climate assemblies could also address the broader crisis of trust in institutions.
Public faith in the government is waning, and the democratic dividend promised in 1994 feels increasingly elusive. By giving people a direct say in climate policy, assemblies could rekindle a sense of agency and solidarity.
Of course, assemblies are no panacea. Their success depends on how seriously governments take their recommendations. Tokenism could render them meaningless, and elite capture remains a constant risk.
But when done right, they offer a compelling model for how democracy can be revitalised in the face of the climate catastrophe.
As the world hurtles towards an uncertain climate future, the need for bold, inclusive, and democratic solutions has never been greater. Climate assemblies represent a tangible way to bridge the gap between rhetoric and action, particularly in contexts like South Africa, where climate vulnerability intersects with deep socio-economic divides.
* Alberts is a Master’s student in political science and a research associate at the Centre for Research on Democracy (Credo) at Stellenbosch University.
Cape Times