Beware Russia’s links with Europe’s right

Moscow is handing cash to the Front National and others in order to exploit popular dissent against the European Union

• 
• • Luke Harding
  • The Guardian, Monday 8 December 2014 18.09 GMT

‘The Front National confirmed last week that it had taken a whopping €9.4m loan from the First Czech Russian bank in Moscow.’ Photograph: Eric Gaillard/Reuters

It sounds like a chapter from a cheesy spy novel: former KGB agent, chucked out of Britain in the 80s, lends a large sum of money to a far-right European party. His goal? To undermine the European Union and consolidate ties between Moscow and the future possible leader of pro-Kremlin France.

In fact this is exactly what’s just happened. The founder of the Front National (FN), Jean-Marie Le Pen, borrowed €2m from a Cyprus-based company, Veronisa Holdings,owned by a flamboyant character and cold war operative called Yuri Kudimov.

Kudimov is a former KGB agent turned banker with close links to the Kremlin and the network of big money around it. Back in 1985 Kudimov was based in London. His cover story was that he was a journalist working for a Soviet newspaper; in 1985 the Thatcher government expelled him for alleged spying. (During the same period Vladimir Putin was a KGB officer in Dresden.)

In Paris, the FN confirmed last week that it had taken a whopping €9.4m (£7.4m) loan from the First Czech Russian bank in Moscow. This loan is logical enough. The FN’s leader, Marine Le Pen, makes no secret of her admiration for Putin; her party has links to senior Kremlin figures including Dmitry Rogozin, now Russia’s deputy prime minister, who in 2005 ran an anti-immigrant campaign under the slogan “Clean Up Moscow’s Trash”. Le Pen defended her decision to take the Kremlin money, complaining that she had been refused her access to capital: “What is scandalous here is that the French banks are not lending.” She also denied reports by the news website Mediapart, which broke the story, that the €9.4m was merely the first instalment of a bigger €40m loan.

The Russian money will fuel Marine Le Pen’s run for the French presidency in two years’ time. Nobody expects her to win, but the FN topped the polls in May’s European elections, winning an unprecedented 25% of the vote; Le Pen’s 25 new MEPs already form a pro-Russian bloc inside the European parliament.

In part, the Moscow loan can be understood as an act of minor and demonstrative revenge. It follows President François Hollande’s decision to postpone the delivery to Moscow of the first of two Mistral helicopter carriers, in a deal worth €1.2bn. His U-turn follows considerable western pressure, in the wake of Russia’s annexation of Crimea and its ongoing covert invasion of eastern Ukraine.

But there is also a more profound and sinister aspect to the Moscow cheque. Since at least 2009 Russia has actively cultivated links with the far right in eastern Europe. It has established ties with Hungary’s Jobbik, Slovakia’s far-right People’s party and Bulgaria’s nationalist, anti-EU Attack movement. Here, political elites have become increasingly sympathetic to pro-Putin views.

According to Political Capital, a Budapest-based research institute which first observed this trend, the Kremlin has recently been wooing the far-right in western Europe as well. In a report in March it argued that Russian influence in the affairs of the far right is now a “phenomenon seen all over Europe”. Moscow’s goal is to promote its economic and political interests – and in particular to ensure the EU remains heavily dependent on Russian gas.

In Soviet times the KGB used “active measures” to sponsor front organisations in the west including pro-Moscow communist parties. The Kremlin didn’t invent Europe’s far-right parties. But in an analogous way Moscow is now lending them support, political and financial, thereby boosting European neo-fascism.

In part this kinship is about ideology or, as Political Capital puts it, “post-communist neo-conservatism”. The European far right and the Kremlin are united by their hostility to the EU. Since becoming president for the third time in 2012, Putin has been busy promoting his vision for a rival Eurasian Union. This is an alternative political bloc meant to encompass now-independent Soviet republics, with Moscow rather than Brussels as the dominant pole.

The Kremlin has also discovered that the western political system is weak, permeable and susceptible to foreign cash. Putin has always believed that European politicians, like Russian ones, can be bought if the money is right. According to US diplomatic cables leaked in 2010, Silvio Berlusconi has benefited “personally and handsomely” from energy deals with Russia; the former German chancellor Gerhard Schröder, Putin’s greatest European ally, sits on the board of the Nord Steam Russian-German gas pipeline.

Far-right and rightwing British politicians, meanwhile, have also expressed their admiration for Russia’s ex-KGB president. In March Nigel Farage named Putin as the world leader he most admires, and praised the “brilliant” way “he handled the whole Syria thing”. In 2011 the BNP’s Nick Griffin went to Moscow to observe Russia’s Duma election. Afterwards he announced that “Russian elections are much fairer than Britain’s”. Last week Griffin tweeted praise for Russia Today, the Kremlin’s English-language TV propaganda news channel: “RT – For People Who Want the Truth”.

There are many ironies here. In his state of the nation address last Friday, Putin implicitly compared the west to Hitler, and said it was plotting Russia’s dismemberment and collapse. In March Putin defended his land-grab in Crimea by arguing he was rescuing the peninsula from Ukrainian “fascists”. A few weeks later a motley group of radical rightwing European populists turned up in Crimea to watch its hastily arranged “referendum”.

Tactically, Russia is exploiting the popular dissent against the EU – fuelled by both immigration and austerity. But as rightwing movements grow in influence across the continent, Europe must wake up to their insidious means of funding, or risk seeing its own institutions subverted.

Britain is still feasting on credit – and the next crunch will hit in 2016

Interest rates won't stay low for much longer. When the cheap loans end the result will be red-letter bills and repossessions

• 
• • Aditya Chakrabortty
  • The Guardian, Friday 30 May 2014

‘This time the credit crunch will primarily affect ordinary consumers, rather than banks or businesses.’ Photograph: Dominic Lipinski/PA

Come with me into the near future, just two years from now. In spring 2016 things look much the same: another coalition government has been installed; the spending cuts first outlined at the beginning of the decade have begun again; and somewhere on the continent a newspaper is publishing grainy close-ups of Kate Middleton's elbow. Business as usual.

Except for one big difference. By early 2016, the era of record-low interest rates is over. Borrowing is getting steadily more expensive. And the result is starting to destabilise our entire economic model.

Such a vista is clearly visible from our vantage point today. Over the past couple of weeks, senior officials at the Bank of England have dropped hint after hint that it is simply a matter of time before interest rates go up. Few expect the Bank governor, Mark Carney, to lob anything as inconvenient as a rate rise at Chancellor George Osborne this side of a general election – but some of his colleagues are growing impatient. On the front of Thursday's FT, rate setter Martin Weale asked: "The question is: how close are we getting to 'soon'? Of course we can never be sure, but the economy has sustained fairly rapid growth in demand." Which sounds like the monetary-policy equivalent of the backseat child grumping, "Are we there yet?"

You can see why Weale is getting twitchy. House prices in London are rising at an annual rate of 17%. The unemployment rate has dropped below 7% – the point at which Carney initially committed himself to lifting the key rate off its 300-year low.

This narrow range of indicators doesn't amount to a recovery. Yet – and here's one oddity of Britain's economic situation – it does add up to a case for rate hikes. Rather than suddenly rocketing from 0.5%, rates are likely to go up in what the Bank's outgoing deputy head, Charlie Bean, recently described as "baby steps". He might as well have used the metaphor of a frog immersed in water that is slowly brought to the boil.

Which is what makes spring 2016 so important, because while likely to be still early in the slow uphill march of rates, that's the point identified by economist Matthew Whittaker as being "crunch time" for Britain's indebted households.

As chief economist at the well-regarded Resolution Foundation, Whittaker has probably spent more time than anyone else in the country analysing what higher borrowing costs could mean for Britons. His predictions are frightening. Should the key rate hit 3% in 2018, as the market and the Bank's Bean predicts, then about one in three of all mortgaged households will find themselves dangerously stretched.

Within that group, Whittaker identifies 770,000 "mortgage prisoners" – households who, perhaps because they're self-employed or have low equity in their homes, will find it very hard to remortgage on to a cheaper deal.

What he's describing is a second credit crunch – this time primarily affecting ordinary consumers, rather than banks or businesses, and kicking-in in just two years' time. The Resolution Foundation avoids sketching out what the human implications of this consumer credit crunch might be, but they're not hard to infer: red-letter bills, forced sales of homes, and a rise in repossessions. All this at a time when the bulk of Osborne's austerity programme will be pushed towards completion.

In its Financial Stability report last November, the Bank of England noted that 16% of mortgage debt is owed by households with less than £200 left over each month after paying their essential bills and groceries. Imagine such a household has a £100,000 mortgage on a 3.6% variable rate. As the rate goes up in line with the base rate, their monthly mortgage bills will rise from £506 to £644. Between now and Christmas 2018, they'll have paid something like an additional £4,400 solely on home loans. All that before you look at any other debts or financial mishaps they might have.

Looking at these figures, some might say this is the fault of the feckless, of those who wanted newly built flats, German kitchens and exotic holidays during the boom but couldn't afford them. That ain't necessarily so, for three main reasons.

First, as estate agents say, location matters. Look at Northern Ireland, where Whittaker thinks around 70,000 households face mortgage imprisonment. A lot of those people will have taken out perfectly prudent home loans in 2005, 2006 or 2007 – it's just that their properties have halved in value from their pre-Northern Rock peak. A London couple could have borrowed to the hilt in the boom – but they will have been kept afloat by the bubble in the capital.

Second, for each heedless debtor, there will have been a predatory lender. Even at the end of 2007, well after the credit crunch had begun, just under half of all mortgages were given without any proof being demanded of the borrower's income. This was a no-questions-asked market, and both lenders and politicians liked it that way.

Finally, your average cash-strapped Britons, with their wages lagging far behind rising prices, don't have the space to sort out their finances. The story of British households is simply told: we went into the crash with historic levels of debt; we cut back a bit, but are still burdened with debts worth about 140% of our income – higher than the eurozone and even credit-happy America. In cash terms, household debt is way above that racked up by the government – even though the right only bangs on about the latter.

Step back and the big picture isn't even of three-quarters of a million British households unable to pay their way, but an entire country unable to do so. As research from the TUC and others shows, Britons built up so much debt during the boom because they weren't getting paid enough. National income grew, sure enough, but it largely went to those at the top. For the rest of the country, the model was simple: let them eat credit. The result is summed up by former head of the Financial Services Authority Adair Turner in a speech this March: "We seem to need credit growth faster than GDP growth to achieve an optimally growing economy, but that leads inevitably to crisis and post-crisis recession."

During the long bust, the problem wasn't fixed – it was simply shoved under the carpet of ultra-low rates. The existential question facing post-crash Britain is this: if we now rely on cheap debt and tax credits to keep our heads above water, what happens in an era when neither loans nor benefits are so easy to come by?

The banking industry's biggest problem isn't bonuses or market share

The only way to make the sector pursue long-term viability instead of short-term greed is to change the rules of the game

• 
• • Ha-Joon Chang
  • The Guardian, Wednesday 22 January 2014

‘The fact that the political class, including Miliband himself, cannot even imagine state-owned banks ditching the business model that caused this crisis is a testimony to the power of the financial industry lobby.’ Photograph: Stefan Rousseau/PA

Last Friday, in another of those agenda-setting speeches for which he has rightly become famous, Ed Miliband took on the biggest of what he describes as "the broken markets" in the UK economy – the financial market.

Taking his "cost of living crisis" theme to another level, the Labour leader emphasised that the issue is not just about oligopolistic firms fleecing their customers; it is also about the lack of jobs with decent wages that can support decent standards of living. The problem with the British banking industry, Miliband pointed out, is not just about the concentration of financial power in the personal account market, but also in the business loan market.

According to Miliband's analysis, the dominant banks are not lending enough to small and medium-sized enterprises because they form a cosy oligopoly (controlling 85% of small business lending) that does not want to take any risk; enterprise loans are inherently riskier than mortgage and personal loans. Given that small businesses create most jobs in the UK (as they do in all countries), lack of finance for them is limiting the creation of decent jobs. The solution, he argued, is to introduce more competition into the small business lending market by capping the share of individual banks.

This proposal has caused much controversy. However, one thing is certain: it is going to be slow-acting. It may be years before proper "challenger" banks emerge, given the time necessary for the review by the Competition and Markets Authority – which takes over the roles of the Competition Commission and Office of Fair Trading from April – and for the process of selling branches.

But there is a quicker and simpler solution to this problem. It is for the government to use its ownership of two of the big four banks, RBS and Lloyds, to direct more lending to small businesses. Thanks to the bailout following the 2008 financial crisis, RBS is 81% owned by the government. This means it can tell RBS what to do. It also owns 33% of Lloyds, and while this does not give it a total control over the bank, it is well above what is normally considered a "controlling stake" in an enterprise.

Now, if you can basically tell two of the four largest banks what to do – say, to increase lending to small businesses – why go through the rigmarole of calculating their market shares and forcing them (and the other two) to sell off some of their branches?

The usual refrain is that Westminster cannot make RBS and Lloyds do things differently because, in order to survive, these banks need to behave like other competitors: generating as much profit and paying their staff as much.

This argument may be right if the existing business model of British banks and other financial companies is fine. But it is not. It is a business model that has caused the biggest financial crisis in 70 years and created imbalances and inequalities that threaten the future viability of the British economy. The fact that the political class, including Miliband himself, cannot even imagine state-owned banks ditching such a model is a testimony to the power of the financial industry lobby.

From the day when RBS and Lloyds were bailed out, the Labour government was at pains to emphasise it would run them along the same lines as before nationalisation. The only thing for which Labour and, subsequently, the coalition government have used the government's dominant shareholding position has been to restrain bonuses. But this is really missing the point.

The problem with bonuses in the financial industry is not about their levels – if someone makes a huge contribution to the economy, he or she should be richly rewarded. The main problem is that these bonuses are given to people for doing the wrong things well – things that harm the economy in order to enrich the shareholders, the top managers of banks and other financial firms.

So the real question is how we make banks and other financial firms pursue the right goals, rather than how much people should be paid, whether in bonuses or salaries. And the only way to make them pursue different goals from those they pursue now is to change the rules of the game.

Unfortunately, few regulations have been introduced since the crisis that have materially changed the goals of financial companies. The result has been "business as usual".

All those complex and risky financial products that were at the centre of the 2008 financial crisis – such as mortgage-backed securities, collateralised debt obligations, credit default swaps and other financial derivatives – are back in vogue again.

The credit rating agencies, whose incompetence and cynicism in rating those financial products has become legendary after the crisis, are still operating in the same way.

Thanks to Help to Buy, the mortgage-lending market is nearly back to its old self. Now you can get loans that are 95% equal to the value of the house – not quite the 125% you could get before the crisis, but nearly there.

In the absence of measures to encourage longer-term shareholding – for instance, by granting more votes or tax advantages – short term-oriented shareholders are still reigning supreme, putting pressures on banks to generate short-term profits, whatever the consequences.

The main problem with the British financial industry is not the level of bonus, or even the concentration in the banking sector; it is that the industry is pursuing goals that are detrimental to the long-term economic viability of the country, in the process enriching only a tiny minority and sapping human and financial resources from the rest of the economy.

Unless those goals are changed through better regulation, the industry will remain harmful to the rest of the economy, whatever we do about bonuses and market concentration.

Universities should ditch the talk of investing in the future

Instead of research academics need to focus on giving students what they want for their money: that is, a well-rounded education

• 
• • Simon Jenkins
  • The Guardian, Wednesday 23 October 2013

Illustration by Belle Mellor

Money talks. After two years of tuition fees at £7,000-£9,000 universities are apparently rolling in cash, and their students are demanding value for it. Universities are expected to deliver not just education but jobs. Courses are being tailored to "employability". Research is concentrated in the elite Russell institutions. Now the universities minister, David Willetts, is calling for a "cultural change" to reverse the trend of too much time going on scholarship and not enough on teaching. Is this a new dawn in higher education, or a new darkness?

Willetts has celebrated the 50th anniversary of the Robbins report with a pamphlet questioning one aspect of the expansion it stimulated. Pre-Robbins, British universities devoted 60% of their time to teaching and 40% to research. Now those percentages are reversed, so that universities are "lopsided away from teaching". Only in the former polytechnics does teaching predominate.

Today's students may not realise how far this has gone, but their graduate parents might. Contact time has declined. Essay writing has halved. Fifty years ago two-thirds of students received oral (as well as written) feedback, now two-thirds get none. Willetts wonders how this was ever allowed to happen.

The answer is easy. Willetts and his Whitehall predecessors made it happen. Universities have become creatures of government, paid to do what government says. Ever since Thatcher abolished the arms-length university grants committee and eventually"nationalised" higher education in 1988, universities have followed the money.

Many academics prefer research, writing and conferencing to the hard tutorial grind. I know, as I was briefly one myself. But the price was to allow government to "assess" their work and demand ever more. They sweated over papers, often of staggering obscurity. Civil servants totted up pages and citations, and tested for "impact and translational value". Willetts may complain that students suffered, but whose fault is that?

The surge in student fees has led universities to a new accountability, not to government but to their customers. For the first time they have had to look out to their market place rather than back to their founders and traditions or up to their government. In this change in accountability research is bound to take a knock. The student market cares little about it. Students want an education that stimulates them for three years and gets them a job. Universities such as Bath are popular because they emphasise job-finding. With 40% of new graduates going into "non-graduate" initial careers, the league tables that matter are those indicating successful job placements.

To outsiders, universities remain extraordinarily conservative enclaves. They stick to the medieval three-term, three-year courses. Specialism is almost obligatory: a Briton wanting to study arts and science together had better go abroad. People at the peak of their vigour are thought unable to absorb teaching for more than six months a year, and are still sent home to help with the harvest each summer. Any business run with so little concern for new techniques of operating or delivering a service would collapse.

When research was the activity of an autonomous minority of scholars it could look after itself. Today it costs the taxpayer millions of pounds and is spread over three dozen Russell and 1994 Group institutions. Such spending has to be justified. And here universities sold the pass. In the years following Robbins, the economists Mark Blaug and John Vaizey debated whether higher education was a consumer service or an investment. Blaug advocated the former and won the argument – but he lost the war. Academics loved to think of themselves as "investing in the nation's future". But in claiming so, they conceded the field to the Treasury. If universities were an investment, where was the return?

The argument continued. Even as new undergraduates rushed to arts subjects, government became obsessed with "the nation's manpower needs" and believed this meant driving universities towards science and technology. Still today the science budget remains "ringfenced", as if it were a branch of national security – and despite decades of market evidence that Britain's prosperity was demanding more financiers, lawyers and designers.

The return from teaching that universities most often cite is graduate lifetime earnings. But this is personal rather than collective. Besides, such a validation has consequences. Three years ago 600 Bristol students staged a revolt over receiving too little teaching, fearing it would jeopardise their careers. When Surrey revealed (improbably) that all its drama graduates had jobs, it was inundated with 50 applicants per drama place.

The Institute for Public Policy Research recently advocated a return of the polytechnics as specialised vocational academies. University College London is introducing a "liberal arts" course that marries arts and science. Where universities appear to be ailing, Willetts is talking of sub-contracting them to private companies, bringing the free-school principle to state higher education. In America this mercantilist approach went to extremes when some graduates sued their old law school for training too many of them, and thus wrecking the jobs market.

There is a backlash to all this. Conservatives such as Cambridge's Stefan Collini inveigh against rate-of-return education, suggesting it means death to the humanities and reduces academics to "door-to-door salesmen for vulgarised versions of their market-oriented product". The vice-chancellor of Reading, Sir David Bell, warns against having to "put a premium on employability … on preparing students for what is to follow", as if that were some sort of betrayal. When a student has £30,000 in prospective debt round his or her neck, employability is bound to apply.

If I were an academic I would stop pretending I was "investing in the nation's future". I would stop using such language. I would try to give students what they want for their money, usually a well-rounded education and a mild sense of obligation to society, and tuck my research into my spare time. That would be my "rate of return". As long as universities play the investment game, they will find students and taxpayers alike asking to scrutinise their accounts.

Church of England wants to 'compete' Wonga out of existence

Archbishop of Canterbury lays down challenge to payday lender after launching new credit union earlier this month

• Press Association
• guardian.co.uk, Thursday 25 July 2013 00.16 BST

The Most Rev Justin Welby, archbishop of Canterbury, says he has had a 'very good conversation' with Wonga's chief executive. Photograph: Dominic Lipinski/PA

The archbishop of Canterbury has told Wonga that the Church of England wants to "compete" it out of existence as part of its plans to expand credit unions as an alternative to payday lenders.

The Most Rev Justin Welby said he had delivered the message to Errol Damelin, chief executive of Wonga, one of Britain's best-known payday lenders, during a "very good conversation".

"I've met the head of Wonga and we had a very good conversation and I said to him quite bluntly 'we're not in the business of trying to legislate you out of existence, we're trying to compete you out of existence'," he told Total Politics magazine.

"He's a businessman, he took that well."

The archbishop's remarks come after he launched a new credit union for clergy and church staff earlier this month at the General Synod in York.

Welby, who has served on the parliamentary Banking Standards Commission, has said he plans to expand the reach of credit unions as part of a long-term campaign to boost competition in the banking sector.

There are also plans to encourage church members with relevant skills to volunteer at credit unions. Small, local lenders could also be invited to use church buildings and other community locations with the help of church members.

The government announced an investment of £38m in credit unions in April to help them offer an alternative option to payday lenders.

The entire pay day lending industry, worth £2bn, was referred last month for a full-blown investigation by the Competition Commission after the trading watchdog uncovered "deep-rooted" problems with the industry.

The Office of Fair Trading said it decided to make the referral because it continues to suspect that features of the market "prevent, restrict or distort competition".

Wonga said in March that it welcomed any attempt to encourage responsible lending and that it has been "instrumental" in helping to raise industry standards.

Damelin, founder of Wonga, said: "The archbishop is clearly an exceptional individual and someone who understands the power of innovation.

"We discussed the future of banking and financial services, as well as our emerging digital society.

"There is mutual respect, some differing opinions and a meeting of minds on many big issues.

"On the competition point, we always welcome fresh approaches that give people a fuller set of alternatives to solve their financial challenges. I'm all for better consumer choice."

It's time to cancel unpayable old debts

By Aditya Chakrabortty in The Guardian

In the week between Christmas and New Year, those bleary few days when the world has better things to do than catch up on news or check its Twitter account, The Guardian carried a story that bears repeating. It was about Dimitris and Christina Gasparinatos and their kids in the Greek port of Patras. For ever hard up, the parents had been pushed by the economic crisis into outright poverty; and just before Christmas Dimitris and Christina put four of their children into care.

Nor is the Gasparinatos' case an isolated one. Greece must be the most family-centric society in western Europe, yet its media is full of reports of newborns dumped outside clinics, or infants shunted into foster homes.

Such stories almost never come up when politicians and economists debate Europe's meltdown; implicitly, they are categorised as fall-out, for journalists and campaigners to highlight. Yet the abandoned children of Greece are not merely coincidental to those discussions about how to tackle the debt; they are integral to it.

Strip away the technicalities and you are left with two ways to think about the debt crisis. One is as a battle between the past and the future. The vast majority of Greece's debts are historic commitments made to creditors by previous governments, sometimes in very dubious circumstances. Yet Athens has been forced to prioritise repaying these old loans over generating economic growth, or future income. One result of that policy has been to snatch away whatever chance the Gasparinatos kids might have had of decent lives.

Something similar is happening in Britain. David Cameron came to office with the primary goal of paying down debt. Less than two years later, his ministers are now obliged to go on the BBC at regular intervals to explain why more than a million young people are out of work. Study after study shows that a young adult unemployed at the outset of his or her career suffers permanent damage to their prospects, yet this government's economic policy favours the past even though it means ruining the future.

Why? This brings us to the second way to think about any argument over debt: as a fight between creditors and borrowers, or the haves and the have-nots. The creditors have the money and therefore the whip-hand over the borrowers. They also have the political influence: the boss of Deutsche Bank would, one suspects, get more face time with Greece's prime minister or any other eurozone leader than the Gasparinatos family and a whole coachload of their neighbours. His demands are also more likely to get preferential treatment, which is a major reason why Angela Merkel and Nicolas Sarkozy has gone through such contortions over Athens' loans.

Before last summer, eurozone policy-makers swore blind that they would never countenance Greece failing to pay all of its debts in full. After finally accepting that that was impossible, they then asked if bankers would be good enough to knock 21% off the country's loans, rising over time to 40% and then 50%, or even a little more. Meanwhile, economists at the IMF estimate that Greece should actually have 75% wiped off its debt burden – and market prices indicate that figure should really be over 90%. But economic reality has been no match for the stranglehold bankers have on European politicians – who, by the way, swore last month that no other country would fail to pay its loans in full.

And yet economic history is full of examples of successful debt default. When American Airlines declared recently that it was bankrupt and couldn't carry on repaying its loans, it was applauded by Wall Street analysts as "very smart". The whole point of company insolvencies is to work out the value and viability of the underlying enterprise; if it can carry on, banks and other creditors get squared off at vastly reduced sums and the productive part of the firm is back in business.

The same goes for countries. Regimes sunk by revolutions don't repay their debts; nor do countries that lose wars. (When they are made to, as with Germany after the first world war, terrible things can result.) Over the past couple of decades, campaigners have successfully won debt relief for poor countries in Africa and Asia. Other nations, such as Ecuador or Argentina or Iceland, have simply declared they cannot repay all that they owe.

Ultimately, a loan is a social arrangement and, like any other contract, it can be renegotiated. A few decades ago, archaeologists discovered the first ever legal contract in Lagash in modern-day Iraq. Dated back 4,400 years and carved into the bricks of a Mesopotamian temple, it was for the cancellation of debt. It's claimed that countries that don't repay their loans will be frozen out by lenders. Yet, as I wrote here last year, IMF economists have recently argued that "the economic costs are generally significant but short-lived . . . we almost never can detect effects beyond one or two years."

In his recent, brilliant history Debt: the First 5,000 Years, the anthropologist David Graeber calls for a modern-day debt jubilee, a cancellation of all debts, just as they had in Mesopotamia. His suggestion is provocative, but it should be taken seriously. Because the longer we keep protecting the haves over the have-nots and honouring the past while destroying the future, the worse this debt crisis will get.

Europe's gutless collapse

By Reuven Brenner

The US and European financial crises have this in common: too much credit was advanced at too low prices to households in the United States and to governments in Europe. In the US, the recipients did not have either the collateral or the prospect of revenues to pay back creditors. In Europe, the governments, with their present institutions, cannot create enough taxed wealth to pay back the debt with their current institutions, taxes and regulations.

In both cases, the recipients of the loans either lied through their teeth or deluded themselves (and delusions can be powerful when they serve one's interests). In the case of mortgage recipients in the US, few did any due diligence about their future ability to pay or about the mortgage-backed bonds.

In Europe, the move toward the European Community and the euro started with lies (or delusions of German rescues). Recall that the Italians called 1987 the year of il sorpasso, since suddenly 18% was added to their gross domestic product (GDP). The politicians claimed that this number reflected part of their undeclared, unmeasured incomes.

Why 18%? Because this was the number that allowed Italy to conform to the European Community requirement of debt/GDP ratios. The European bureaucrats were aware of much undeclared incomes in Greece too. Eventually they sued the Greek government for the false national statistics.

The result? To this day in both countries some 30% of incomes are undeclared in a variety of imaginative ways, often hidden by these countries' intricate customs, traditions and systems of patronage.

The national governments will not have an easy time changing such deeply rooted arrangements. Too many complex taxes, too many regulations, and too much corruption "on the top" resulted in ingrained perceptions that governments are wasting the money and that the courts are unreliable, rationalizing the culture of tax evasion. Why should hard-working people pay taxes when politicians and the rich get away with murder?

As it is in private life, start relationships with lies and they are unlikely to last or to end well. No trust, no finance; diminished trust, finance at a higher price. It is not rocket science.

But if all this was known, why were lenders willing to advance massive amounts of loans to these irresponsible, unaccountable entities?

Whereas in the US the case can be made that it took some time until it dawned on some that things were going awry, in Europe's case the issues surrounding Italy and Greece were well known. It was no secret that the continent was divided into "junk countries" and others where the tribe - the German one - could be called on for sacrifices and fulfilling duties, as was the case after the reunification.

Who made the mistakes that led to offering the loans to these profligate entities, aggravating mispricing of credit around the world and failing to correct the errors?

After all, the rationale for capital markets is simple: when all parties are held accountable, they correct mispricing faster than any other institutions that supply capital. There are only two other main entities that supply capital in every society: families and governments. The first is unlikely to correct mistaken allocation faster because of emotions. The second is unlikely to correct mistakes faster than arms-length financial intermediaries because a wide variety of political considerations get in the way.

So what went wrong in the presumably accountable financial institutions? Improper fiscal, regulatory and monetary policies. When combined with political considerations, however, none were considered "mistakes" by large segments of academics, central bankers, and politicians.

China illustrates in an extreme way the main difficulty with the finding solutions, but it is not dissimilar to what now confronts Europe too.

Most people agree that communism, as once practiced in the Soviet Union and China, was a colossal mistake. Tens of millions of people were killed, generations were made miserable, and talents and resources became severely mismatched. How do you correct for such mistakes? What is the path from totalitarian societies to more open ones backed by rule of law and equality?

There are no unique answers. There are no theories, no models, since the countries do not have either the legal precedents or the personnel to create, interpret and enforce them. Governments may emulate a successful country, but that too can take a generation or two.

China bet on a strategy of keeping the monopoly of the communist party, but allowing part of its population to integrate with the West. To achieve this integration, they pegged their currency to the US dollar, thus allowing dollar prices to guide the drastic restructuring. What was the alternative? Since accounting, balance sheets, prices, costs under communism were all fiction, the new government needed an anchor, and dollar prices served as such anchor.

Since wages in China were much lower than in the US, employment and exports expanded quickly. The country rapidly accumulated trillions of dollar assets. The Fed's low interest rate policy from 2004 and on distorted China's massive flow of trade to the US and its purchasing of Treasuries.

One could make the point that if the Chinese Communist Party opened up its domestic financial markets more rapidly, dispersing power and allowing entrepreneurship to thrive, the financing of the housing bubble could have been significantly mitigated, if not avoided, even with the pegged currency. Was the US able to use its negotiating powers at the time to force China to open its domestic markets more quickly? I believe so - though this option wasn't pursued.

The main point though of the above example is not to regret some foregone opportunity but to show that there are no models describing either how exactly countries should correct their political mistakes or how other countries should react while countries go through such transitions. There are no roadmaps and general theories for successful transformation: using negotiating power matters.

The European crisis
The financing of profligate, unaccountable governments, sanctioned by rating agencies and the Bank of International Settlement in Basel as being "riskless", brought us to the present situation. The solution for the eurozone required a drastic change in domestic policies cajoled by the European Union. After all, the EU knew all along about the extensive black and grey markets and the intricate patronage. Solutions were known too: simplified taxes, simplified regulations, more accountable governments.

Note that these solutions have very little to do with financial markets. They are a matter of political leadership. The political and financial institutions of China, Italy, Greece, and so forth shaped intricate institutions and habits and will not be altered because some economist or politician disapproves of it or devises some new technical models. Changing these is a matter of political leadership.

Unfortunately, such leadership is today nowhere in sight. If it does not emerge, bankruptcy, a distant second best, will bring about the changes. It is a distant second best because it could involve an extremely disorganized process, whose political outcome is unpredictable. What could then be done now while we wait for the Club Med countries to put their houses in order?

Since the European banks are at the center of the present crises, the best solution would be to emulate what happened in the US banking system in the 1990s. Namely, let them raise money by selling their loan book.

Banks would be much smaller. Ownership of non-investment grade loans would be much more dispersed. If the US banks could diminish their ownership of such loans from 80% in 1994 of their assets to 20% by 2009 (the balance distributed in a variety of collateralized loan obligations), there is no particular reason why Europe cannot achieve the same in much shorter time.

No need to implement a myriad of regulations. Disgorging debts from the zombie banks would also mitigate the much discussed "too large" or "too interconnected" to fail issue. Pension funds, insurance companies, and sovereign funds could offer the capital for such purchases.

But this takes guts, which are lacking in both Europe and the US. Yet again, I sound like Machiavelli waiting for his prince who never came.

Let's hope that he will emerge in 2012.

Reuven Brenner holds the Repap Chair at McGill University's Desautels Faculty of Management. The article draws on his books Labyrinths of Prosperity and Force of Finance.

Germany has benefitted from the Euro and should protect it.

There is only one alternative to the euro's survival: catastrophe

Little Englanders – and blinkered Germans – need to wake up to the implications of a fractured eurozone

• 
• • Will Hutton
  • The Observer, Sunday 13 November 2011
  • larger | smaller

It is hard not to have the gravest of forebodings about the European and British economies, and about the future of Europe itself. Nobody would start from here – an ill-designed single currency interacting with an insupportable burden of private debt created by oversized, undercapitalised banks. And it's as much a problem in the US and China as in Europe. There are only least bad ways forward: none good. This is a crisis in contemporary capitalism as much as a crisis of Europe's monetary regime and governance. It needs to be seen in those terms.

But so saturated is British commentary in jingoistic Euro-scepticism that Europe's travails are portrayed as proof positive that it is European visionary delusions rather than contemporary capitalism that is at fault. Greece, and indeed Ireland and even Italy, are urged to get out of the euro, for the euro to be smashed and for the entire EU project to be abandoned. This is the route to prosperity and wellbeing – with no trace of self knowledge as British trade performance deteriorates even after a monumental devaluation while our economy is still years away from recovering to 2008 levels of peak output. That is Europe's fault, or so runs the line – not the fault of our dysfunctional economic structures and policies.

However, Britain's interest is unambiguous: it lies in the survival of the euro. There is too much easy talk about countries leaving. Last week, financial policy committee member Robert Jenkins spelled out the consequences for Britain and for Europe of Greece now quitting the euro. There would be seismic bank runs in Ireland, Portugal, Spain and even Italy as citizens and companies, fearing the same could happen to them, moved their cash out of their countries. Weaker banks, tottering from losses in Greece, would fold. The European Central Bank would be overwhelmed. The European economy would slump – and Britain with it.
Greece's fight is our own. But what is being asked of Greece's new interim prime minister, Lucas Papademos, is impossible. Unemployment is 18.4%. The schedule of its foreign loan repayments over the next five years beggars belief. On the other hand, Greek capitalism, a network of family oligarchs rigging Greek markets and leading a society in which tax evasion is morally and socially acceptable, is in acute need of reform. Europe could have been organised around floating exchange rates rather than a single currency, but the vast overhang of private debt alongside crocked banks demands similar medicine.

And while staying in the euro is in the interest of Greece – and Italy – it is in the rest of Europe's interest too. But there has to be a quid pro quo for all the pain that such severe austerity involves. Private and public debt needs to be radically lowered; and in a world of little growth there are only two routes. Either it has to be forgiven by their creditors, or there has to be inflation. If the eurozone can deliver neither, its future is in question.

In July and, again, in October, the EU signalled it understood what needed to be done and moved towards it – a combination of decisive debt forgiveness, the creation of a European Monetary Fund, substantially financed by Germany and which could bail out stricken banks and even governments, and the empowerment of the European Central Bank to go beyond supplying emergency cash on crisis terms. Instead, it could act as a lender of last resort everywhere in the eurozone.

The system could potentially be put in place fast; the right sentiments have been uttered – but after each summit Germany has consistently blocked making the money flow. It has said no to the European Central Bank operating as a lender of last resort across the eurozone; no to creating a genuine European Monetary Fund on the scale needed; no to the creation of single euro bonds. Ireland, Greece and Italy are all doing their part. Germany must now do its – or the euro will buckle.

Germany's phobias are well-known – inflation and then slump led to Hitler. What's more, the German constitutional court has ruled that the EU is a Staatenbund (a group of states). This means that Germany can only constitutionally make fiscal transfers to other members if each one is agreed by the German parliament. But phobias and constitutional courts cannot trump the agonising choice facing Germany and Europe.
Germany profits richly from the way the eurozone is organised. It is the only country in Europe whose share of world trade has risen over the past 10 years. But it enjoys the same exchange rate as much weaker exporters such as Greece or Spain – a huge boon. Even Britain, with our much vaunted floating exchange rate, has seen our share of world trade fall by a third over the same period.

Germany now has to accept its part of the bargain. The choice must be confronted. One option to secure the euro's future is via widespread debt forgiveness and fiscal transfers backed by Germany; the only other route out is inflation.

Here I make a modest proposal. Instead of delivering purposeless lectures from the sidelines about the need for action while he prepares to blame Europe for the ongoing British stagnation, for which he is primarily responsible, David Cameron should make the intervention of his life. He should travel to Germany and make a speech in German – however embarrassing – spelling out the choices. If Germany is unprepared to accept them, he should argue that the least bad option is not for Greece to leave the euro – but for Germany, whose economy is strong enough to take the shock, to do so.

He should say that while it was right for Britain not to join the single currency as it was previously constructed, if Germany were to act responsibly, Britain would peg sterling to a reformed euro and in the long run even consider joining the regime. Moreover, Britain would do this either way, he could argue – eventually joining a single currency in which Germany accepted its responsibilities or a single currency without Germany.

Such a speech – which, of course, will never be made – would create turmoil in Germany. It fears isolation in Europe even more than it fears inflation. It prizes the undervaluation of its exports priced in euro. It would force its leadership to recognise that there are other potential ways of organising our continent other than around German preoccupations – and perhaps trigger the change in German policy that is needed. It would change the rules of the game at a stroke, and show that Britain is a European force with which to be reckoned. But Cameron is trapped into Little England isolationism. And Little Englanders, along with moralistic and blinkered Germans, threaten to sink both the idea of Europe – and its economy.

Ratings Agency Hypocrites

S&P’s downgrade carries a large dose of irony, since the extra debt the U.S. has piled on recently came courtesy of S&P's moronic toxic asset ratings.

by Nomi Prins | August 7, 2011 7:6 AM EDT

Can’t say rating agencies don’t have a sense of humor. Last weekend, the painfully embarrassing bipartisan political drama to raise the U.S. debt ceiling centered around doing whatever it took to avoid losing our sacrosanct AAA credit rating. This weekend, under cover of a Friday night, with markets safely closed and global traders gone for the weekend, the best-known rating agency, Standard and Poor’s, basically mooned U.S. economic policy.

On one main score, S&P’s downgrade rationale is right: Washington policy-making is decidedly "dysfunctional.” In fact, that’s a seismic understatement.

But that would also be a fair description of S&P’s decision-making in recent years. Remember: In the run-up to this very financial crisis, for which our debt creation machine at the Treasury Department ramped into over-drive, S&P was raking in fees for factory-stamping "AAA" approval on assets whose collateral was hemorrhaging value.

That high class rating was the criterion hurdle that allowed international cities, towns and pension funds to scoop up those assets, and then borrow against them because of their superior quality, and later suffer devastating losses and bankruptcies when the market didn’t afford them the value that the S&P AAA rating would have implied.

Perhaps, this downgrade is S&P’s way of saying, we’re on it now—we’re not going to give bad debt a pass anymore. Earlier this week, they downgraded a bunch of Spanish and Danish banks that are sitting on piles of crappy loans. Then, of course, there was Greece.

But just like Washington, the agency is missing the main reason for the recent upshot in debt. There’s a bar chart on the White House website that cites an extra $3.6 trillion of debt created during the Obama administration which is labeled for "economic and technical changes." That figure doesn’t include the $800 billion of stimulus money delineated separately, which is more deserving of that moniker.

Banks concocted $14 trillion of toxic assets that S&P rated AAA between 2003 and 2008.

Jin Lee / AP Photo

But it’s not like the GOP, in particular its Tea Party wing, screamed once about that $3.6 trillion figure during the latest capitol cacophony. Instead, the Treasury Department made up a name for Wall Street subsidies, and Congress went along. And until this spring, when the debt cap debate geared up a notch, S&P was pretty mum about this debt and exactly why it was created.

Recall, banks concocted $14 trillion of toxic assets that S&P rated AAA between 2003 and 2008—or higher in credit worthiness than it now deems the U.S. government to be. These banks now store $1.6 trillion of excess Treasury debt on reserves at the Fed (vs. about zero before the 2008 crisis) on which interest is being paid. In addition, the Fed holds $900 billion of mortgage related assets for the banks. Plus, about a half of trillion of debt is still backing some of AIG’s blunders, JP Morgan Chase’s takeover of Bear Stearns, the agencies that trade through Wall Street, and other sundries. That pretty much covers the extra debt since 2008—not that S&P mentioned this.

But yes, S&P is right. There is no credible plan coming from Washington to deal with this excess debt, nor is the deflection of the conversation to November fooling anyone, but that’s because there’s been no admission from either party as to why the debt came into being.

The bottom line? In the aftermath of the financial crisis, the U.S. created trillions of dollars of debt to float a financial system that was able to screw the U.S. economy largely because banks were able to obtain stellar ratings for crap assets, which had the effect of propagating them far more quickly through the system than they otherwise would have spread. The global thirst for AAA-rated assets pushed demand for questionable loans to fill them from the top down, as Wall Street raked in fees for creating and selling the assets. Later, banks received cheap loans, debt guarantees, and other financial stimulus from Washington when it all went haywire, ergo debt.

Despite a few congressional hearings on the topic, the rating agencies were never held accountable for their role in the toxic-asset pyramid scheme. Now they are holding the U.S. government accountable. The U.S. government deserves it, not because spending cuts weren’t ironed out, but because Wall Street stimulus wasn’t considered, the job market remains in tatters, and there’s no recovery on the horizon.

Still, the downgrade demonstrates that the U.S. doesn't run the show—the private banks and rating firms that get paid by them, do.

August 7, 2011 7:6am