The 16th BRICS Summit is now underway in Kazan, Russia, drawing leaders from 36 countries. Among those in attendance are Chinese President Xi, Indian Prime Minister Modi, and the presidents of South Africa and Egypt. However, a few key figures opted out—Brazil’s President Lula canceled due to health issues, and Serbia’s Vučić had other plans with Poland. In the days leading up to the summit, locals were warned not to drive old cars to “maintain appearances,” and during the event, phone networks have been jammed, with telecoms citing security concerns. It’s a big event with lots of political heavyweights—though, as always, some have gone out of their way to avoid it.
This summit marks a significant milestone—BRICS has expanded from just five nations to 36. Officially, the Kremlin describes this growth as a testament to a “multipolar world” and an anti-colonial movement, showcasing Russia’s alliances with countries that represent more than half of the global population. But what is BRICS really about? And how did it come to hold such symbolic weight?
BRICS began in 2001 when Russia and China had small economies, barely contributing to global GDP. Back then, they were still scraping by, with untapped potential. It was Jim O’Neill from Goldman Sachs who first coined the term “BRICs” in a paper, grouping Brazil, Russia, India, and China based on their economic potential. His timing was strategic—just after 9/11, when many analysts thought Western dominance was on the decline, making way for new powers.
The theory was that these four nations, with their vast populations and cheap labor, were poised for rapid growth. O’Neill’s paper suggested they were “bricks” of a new economic order, solid investments in a changing world. His catchy acronym took off, and by the 2000s, the economies of these countries surged—particularly China, which is now the second-largest economy. Investors profited handsomely, with Goldman Sachs cashing in on the hype.
But BRICS soon evolved beyond economics and entered the political arena. In 2006, the four countries began formal meetings and committed to closer collaboration. By 2009, Yekaterinburg hosted the first official BRIC summit. A year later, South Africa joined the group, turning BRIC into BRICS. In 2024, more members came on board—Egypt, Iran, the UAE, and Ethiopia. Others, like Argentina and Turkey, expressed interest but haven’t taken the plunge.
However, despite its expansion, BRICS remains more of a conversation club than a real alliance. The group makes bold statements but lacks the structures or institutions of a bloc like the EU or NATO. Member countries don’t sacrifice sovereignty for integration. Their decisions need to be unanimous, and apart from the New Development Bank (NDB), which funds infrastructure projects, there’s little in the way of joint action. Even the NDB cut ties with Russia when sanctions hit.
The idea of using national currencies for trade has been floated, but nothing concrete has come of it. And although a shared currency was once considered, the economic differences between these nations make it unlikely. BRICS nations are more connected to Western economies than to each other, relying on them for investment, exports, and technology. China may be the glue holding the group together, but it’s also the largest player by far, with a GDP that dwarfs the rest combined.
In reality, the interests of these countries often clash. China and India are regional rivals, each vying for influence and market access. Brazil and Russia, meanwhile, have their own trade commitments—Brazil with MERCOSUR, and Russia with the Eurasian Economic Union—making deeper BRICS cooperation complicated. The idea of an economic coalition simply doesn’t align with the messy realities of international trade and diplomacy.
By the 2010s, the initial optimism surrounding BRICS had started to fade. While China’s economy continued to grow, doubts arose about the reliability of its numbers. Meanwhile, Russia and Brazil failed to live up to expectations, struggling with stagnant productivity and missed opportunities. Instead of becoming engines of global growth, they stumbled under the weight of poor governance and economic mismanagement.
Today, it’s clear that BRICS doesn’t have a unified vision. New members are mostly interested in forging closer ties with China and India rather than building a coherent alliance. Most of the declarations made at these summits are vague statements about world order and climate change, with little follow-through. The main focus now seems to be on expanding membership, though setting specific goals would likely cause friction among members with divergent interests.
At its core, BRICS was never meant to be an anti-Western alliance. When Jim O’Neill introduced the term, it was a way to spotlight emerging economies, not a call for geopolitical realignment. In truth, these countries have more differences than common ground. China benefits from low oil prices, which would devastate Russia’s economy. Meanwhile, India sees economic opportunities in China’s trade conflicts with the U.S., rather than plotting with China to challenge the West.
In contrast to functional organizations like the EU or NATO, BRICS feels more like an occasional reunion. Its members meet, make broad commitments, and then go their separate ways. There’s little evidence of meaningful cooperation between countries like India, South Africa, and Brazil. The real beneficiary of these summits seems to be Russian President Vladimir Putin, who uses them to maintain an image of relevance on the world stage. Hosting these gatherings allows him to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with other leaders—a spectacle that serves his personal narrative in an era of increasing isolation.
Ultimately, BRICS may be little more than a vanity project, propped up by meetings that create the illusion of progress. But in a political system built on appearances, that may be all that matters.
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