Sekunjalo chairman, Dr Iqbal Survé (left), and his son Rayhaan (right), with JPMorgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon. Photo: Independent Newspapers
By Nonhlanhla Shezi
Davos is not merely an event; it is an altar of power, where the world's true presidents, ministers, billionaires, and corporate titans—converge to carve out the future of economies and nations.
More than 3 000 delegates descend upon this Swiss stronghold, yet mere attendance is meaningless. Influence is not measured by credentials but by access, by the silent nods exchanged in the corridors of the Congress Centre, where only 500 of the chosen few are permitted entry. This is where the 0.1% of global decision-makers shape the future, away from the noise, with conversations that later set the course of industries, economies, and policies.
There is one lunch, an event so exclusive it is barely spoken about even in the highest circles. To be invited is to be confirmed as part of the global order, to be among the handful who do not just react to world events but shape them. The names that filled the seats at this table were those who command entire industries, whose nods dictate market shifts. JPMorgan Chase, Bank of America, Citibank—financial institutions that do not follow trends but create them. Jamie Dimon, the CEO of JPMorgan Chase, Christine Lagarde, Kristalina Georgieva—figures who bridge policy and economic power with seamless ease. The International Monetary Fund, the European Central Bank, the World Health Organisation—forces that determine the trajectories of nations long before headlines catch up.
Presiding over this gathering was American royalty—Lally Weymouth of the Graham family, proprietors of The Washington Post, the publication that frames Washington’s reality as much as it reports on it. This was not a casual luncheon; it was a statement of belonging, a declaration of who truly directs global affairs. It was an unspoken understanding that decisions made here would filter into the financial arteries of the world, defining policies, investments, and international relations long before they become public knowledge.
Even Donald Trump, a man known for disregarding traditional political engagements, recognised the importance of Davos. Despite being consumed with his own presidential inauguration, he still made sure to deliver an address to the Forum—albeit virtually—acknowledging that influence at this gathering was too critical to ignore.
Yet, what many fail to realise is that among these global kingmakers sat a South African father and son: Rayhaan Survé and Dr Iqbal Survé, the chairman of the Sekunjalo Group. This was not a symbolic presence. Their attendance was a tectonic shift—subtle to the untrained eye, but seismic for those who grasp the undercurrents of influence. South Africa’s official delegation did not occupy this space. Cyril Ramaphosa was absent. The state’s representatives engaged in the outer layers of Davos, but when it came to the ultimate seat of power, it was Dr Survé and his son, Rayhaan who had secured their place.
Dr Survé’s presence was not incidental, nor was it granted. It was earned through years of relentless defiance against the very institutions that have sought to contain him. In South Africa, he has taken a position that disrupts the status quo, like Donald Trump in the United States—a figure both loathed and feared by the establishment. His battles against corporate monopolies and banking exclusion mirror the challenges faced by emerging economies that seek autonomy from Western economic grip. Much like Trump, who found himself in a war with traditional financial institutions attempting to erase his economic presence, Dr Survé has waged a battle of his own—one against a system determined to silence alternative narratives.
For those who understand power, the optics were staggering. The official South African delegation, bound by protocol and political correctness, remained on the periphery, while a South African billionaire and his son occupied a seat at the most consequential table in Davos. This was not just an invitation—it was a recalibration of South Africa’s representation in global affairs. It was a statement that true power does not require political office. It is about being present where decisions are made, where the world’s future is whispered into existence.
Davos has always been a paradox—a platform that preaches inclusion while quietly reinforcing exclusivity. But beyond its public-facing panels and press releases, the real signal lay in who was inside and who was left outside. Those who attended this gathering do not make noise; they make history.
* Nonhlanhla Shezi is an independent writer, analyst, and commentator.
** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.
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