HENRY, James S. - The Blood Bankers
HENRY, James S. - The Blood Bankers
HENRY, James S. - The Blood Bankers
THE BLOOD
BANKERS
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THE BLOOD
BANKERS
Tales from the Global Underground Economy
by
James S. Henry
Henry, James S.
The blood bankers : tales from the underground global economy / by
James S. Henry.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 1-56858-254-4 (cloth)
1. Transnational crime 2. Globalization. I. Title.
HV6252.H45 2003
364.1′36—dc22 2003060223
CIP
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Endnotes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 365
Acknowledgments. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 401
Index. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 403
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FOREWORD
by
FORMER SENATOR BILL BRADLEY
This year marks the twentieth anniversary of the so-called Third World
“debt crisis” and the continuing development crisis that succeeded it, espe-
cially for the more than three billion people around the world who still sub-
sist on less than two dollars per day. Until now, however, those of us who have
been deeply concerned with problems of debt and development haven’t had
a critical account of what really happened.This eye-opening book, the prod-
uct of Jim Henry’s pathbreaking work as an investigative journalist over the
past two decades, fills this gap. It brings us astonishing new insights about why
these countries have remained poor for so long—despite the fact that so many
of them have abundant human and natural resources.
As Jim Henry indicates, the key puzzle is based on the fact that from 1970
to 1982, First World banks loaned more than a trillion dollars to developing
countries. Then, from the late 1980s through 2003, spurred on by free-mar-
ket enthusiasts and institutions like the IMF and the World Bank, developing
countries tried to absorb another $2.2 trillion in foreign capital, three-fourths
of it in the form of private investment and bonds.
Unhappily, while a few countries were able to digest all this foreign cap-
ital and develop, many others failed to use it wisely. The result is that after
thirty years of heavy investment and a decade of experiments with free trade,
debt restructuring, and deregulation, we now face a situation where debt lev-
els are higher than ever in many countries, and the gap between the living
standards and technology levels of the world’s richest and poorest countries—
and the world’s richest and poorest citizens—has increased dramatically.To fix
this problem, we’ll have to transcend both the simple-minded “big project”
strategies of the 1970s and the equally-simplistic laissez-faire solutions of the
1990s.
This situation may come as a surprise to many First World residents, for
whom the last decade of the twentieth century was a period of unprece-
dented prosperity.The Cold War came to an end, the world saw relative peace,
unemployment fell to record lows, and vast fortunes were made overnight.
Many of us trusted that market forces—globalization, liberalization, and pri-
vatization—would work similar miracles for developing countries, permitting
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viii FOREWORD
them to substitute private trade and investment for debt and aid, and free mar-
kets for state intervention. In fact, conditions in large parts of the world did
not improve—in many places they actually became worse.
Especially in the wake of September 11, ignorance or indifference to
these realities are no longer luxuries that we can afford.Yet up to now the
main First World response to 9/11 has been to strengthen our homeland
security forces and deploy First World troops and law enforcement staff all
over the globe, from Afghanistan and Iraq to Colombia and the Philippines.
This is an understandable first response: September 11 was a shocking assault.
But it is a profound mistake to believe that police and military alone will ever
be a sufficient answer to the poverty, inequality, and injustice that breed much
of today’s extremism.
In fact, reliance on punitive responses alone may breed even more hostil-
ity. Remember, after September 11 when we were forced to ask ourselves the
question:“Why do they hate us so much?” Of course there are many ideolog-
ical and cultural factors, as well as long-standing political conflicts, that are
responsible for this hostility. Most of the hijackers on September 11, after all,
were from middle-class Saudi families, not from the worst neighborhoods in
Cairo or Karachi. In many countries there is also a lingering antipathy that is
the legacy of long-term colonial policies and racial or ethnic discrimination.
But if First Worlders really want to understand why many Third Worlders
don’t necessarily share our high opinions of ourselves—despite our military
might, democratic institutions, and good intentions, not to mention the innu-
merable conferences that we sponsor on “sustainable development”—they
might consider the stories in this book about the First World’s systemic con-
tributions to the problem of underdevelopment. Be warned, however—it is
not a pretty picture.
This book reports on a series of first-hand investigations by Mr. Henry
into the darker side of globalization and development. Each chapter stands
alone as a separate detective story, with investigations that range from the
looting of the Philippines by the Marcos clan to wasteful, corrupt lending
practices in Venezuela, Brazil, Nicaragua, and Argentina, to the role that exces-
sive debts played in the downfall of the Shah in Iran and Saddam’s aggressive
behavior in Iraq. All these tales share important common themes. One key
theme is the dramatic growth of the global underground economy since the
1970s, as a kind of unsavory by-product of neoliberalism’s long-sought tri-
umph.That triumph brought the undeniable benefits of increased global eco-
nomic integration and more open markets. But it also made it more difficult
for individual nation-states, especially weaker ones, to control the most
aggressive rats in the new global rat race.
Another key theme is the rise of a sophisticated global haven banking
industry.This weakly regulated haven network now shelters hundreds of bil-
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FOREWORD ix
lions of dollars in ill-gotten gains that were generated by all sorts of dubious
behavior, from bribery and tax evasion to drug dealing and arms trafficking.
It has made a profound contribution to Third World underdevelopment.Yet
First World authorities have so far been unable or unwilling to attack the
expanding list of haven sinkholes for dirty money and control their circum-
vention of national laws—despite the fact that most of this money resides in
First World banks.
Perhaps the most important theme explored in The Blood Bankers is a new
perspective on the root causes of Third World underdevelopment and failed
states. It has long been common for First World experts to blame develop-
ment problems mainly on local anomalies in the developing countries them-
selves: wrongheaded policies, the absence of Western-style markets, suppos-
edly higher levels of corruption and cronyism, and unfavorable climates or
geography. But—as scandals like Enron and Worldcom have reminded us—
cronyism and high-level chicanery are by no means peculiar to the Third
World. Moreover, we will see from Jim Henry’s investigations how the global
haven network has contributed systematically to the looting of “submerging
markets” all over the world, from Argentina, Brazil,Venezuela, Indonesia and
the Philippines to Russia and Zimbabwe. Surprisingly, according to Jim
Henry, most of the key players in the band were not shady Third World banks,
but some of the world’s most prestigious financial institutions—as tolerated
by “regulators” like the US Treasury, the IMF, and the World Bank.
Overall, the patterns explored here raise serious questions about the First
World’s responsibility for the fact that so much development capital was either
completely wasted or ended up in the pockets of the elites and their private
bankers over the last thirty years. In the early 1960s, at a time when many
Americans were enjoying the prosperity of John F. Kennedy’s New Frontier,
Michael Harrington’s The Other America reminded us that one out of four
Americans was stuck in grinding poverty, and that everyone had a stake in fix-
ing that problem. That reminder, in turn, helped to mobilize a whole new
“War on Poverty” in the US.That battle has by no means been won. But this
book is a timely reminder of the urgent need to launch a broader effort, a new
“War on Global Poverty” that takes stock of the costly lessons described here.
In the long run, military might and police power are no substitute for
developing prosperous economies and democratic institutions for the vast
majority of citizens, not just for “we happy few.”This is not only essential for
our own peace and securit; it also happens to be the right thing to do. The
Blood Bankers demonstrates that we have our work cut out for us.
Bill Bradley
New York City
June 2003
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INTRODUCTION:
WHERE THE MONEY WENT
But where has the money gone? What of the millions that the government
took in between l922, the year in which El Barroso erupted and gushed its
heavy crude for nine days, sixty feet into the air . . . and l938? Where are the
roads, the public works, the subsidized agricultural holdings, the mining
concessions, the hospitals, the Social Security programs? Why is the poor
peon so often lethargic with malaria, infected with syphilis, even sometimes
touched with leprosy? Why is he still using the fans of the moriche palm for
his insect-infested roof? Why is he wearing those ragged trousers, patched
with pieces from an old cement sack?
—Clarence Horn, Fortune Magazine, March 1939
Niebla is a tiny Chilean fishing village on a cliff at the mouth of an estuary, four
hundred miles south of Santiago.To a newcomer, Niebla is picturesque and charming.
The harbor is filled with brightly colored fishing boats, and there is a seventeenth-cen-
tury Spanish fortress with stone towers and brass cannons. The women of the village
sell strings of shrimp and braided garlic under the palm trees near the beach.There are
few cars—a favorite form of local transportation is still the ox cart.
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xii INTRODUCTION
But Niebla’s most interesting feature lies two miles upstream along the river to Val-
divia—a rusty old steamship, high and dry in the middle of a town plaza.The ship’s
unusual position dates back to May 22, 1960, when two earthquakes—9.5 on the
Richter scale, the strongest ever recorded—suddenly struck Chile back-to-back early
that Sunday morning. The quakes originated one hundred miles off shore, 180 feet
below the ocean floor. By noon the resulting tsunami had caused the Pacific Ocean to
recede from the shore, much faster and farther than the usual tides.1
Word of this event spread quickly, and the people of the village gathered along the
shore to stare out in amazement at the retracting sea.The sea withdrew so quickly that
it left little pools of water on the seabed, filled with stranded fish.To the hardworking
villagers this was a dream come true—they marched out eagerly to scoop them up into
baskets.Women and children, the mayor, and the parish priest all joined in.They offered
a prayer of thanks to God for their good fortune.
Most people ignored the first faint rumble. A few thought they heard something
and stared out at the ocean. All they could see was a thin dark edge on the horizon.
Probably a storm.They turned back to work, wandering up to several hundred yards
out from shore to fill their baskets.
Then the wind died down and the rumble grew louder. All of a sudden there was
a shock of recognition, like the handshake of a corpse. People cried out, dropped their
baskets, and scrambled back toward shore. But for hundreds it was too late.A few min-
utes later a black wall of water 60 feet high, traveling 200 miles an hour, cascaded over
the beach and the village.The grounded ship became a kind of memorial to their col-
lective dream and awakening.1
ORIGINS
This crisis was not the widely celebrated collapse of Soviet socialism. It
originated for the most part in market economies and in the perverse rela-
tionships that have come to exist between rich and poor countries in our
new, mercilessly competitive global economic system.
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INTRODUCTION xiii
$3,000 $450
Like the Chilean tidal wave, this crisis was preceded by very high hopes—
at first, in the 1970s and early 1980s, when massive amounts of foreign debt
first became available to developing countries, and again in the 1990s, when
globalization, free trade, privatization, and foreign investment were widely
expected to undo all the problems created by this debt.
The 1970s had been the heyday of the “big project” paradigm of eco-
nomic development. Officials from institutions like the World Bank, the
Inter-American Development Bank (IDB), the Asian Development Bank
(ADB), and the US Agency for International Development (USAID) roamed
the globe, making huge project loans and preaching the virtues of sophisti-
cated development-planning techniques. In the wake of the collapse of the
gold standard in August 1971 and the dramatic oil price rise of 1973, inter-
national capital markets became much more open. Most of the world’s lead-
ing private banks and corporations joined in, flogging subsidized loans, con-
struction projects, and equipment to the new markets that came to be known
collectively as the “Third World.”The superpowers of the day, the US and the
Soviet Union also competed aggressively for client states in the Third World
with unprecedented quantities of aid and arms.
This new level of First World involvement in Third World development
was based on what had been, in hindsight, several decades of solid progress.
During the so-called Golden Age of Development—from the late 1940s to
the early 1970s, before Third World lending took off—conditions in many
developing countries had improved.3 Infant and maternal mortality, disease,
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xiv INTRODUCTION
and malnutrition declined; average life spans increased, per capita incomes
rose, and the distribution of world income became somewhat more equal.4
Then the world’s first global debt crisis hit developing countries hard in
1982–83. While First World countries recovered quickly and continued to
forge ahead, most of the developing world lost an entire decade of growth.
China and India—comprising forty-seven percent of the developing world’s
population—did better because they were less open to the vagaries of foreign
banks, capital, and trade.5 But for the other half of the Third World, the 1980s
proved to be disastrous. By 1990, developing countries had accumulated more
than $1.3 trillion in foreign debt, with little to show for it except huge white
elephant projects, widespread corruption, and private elites that had learned to
stash much of their liquid wealth back in the First World.6
In the 1990s, the disappointments were no less acute. Because of the debt
crisis, foreign loans had become scarce; in the words of one former finance
minister, “A banker is someone who lends you money when you don’t need
it.”The Cold War’s abrupt end in 1989–90 also reminded poor countries that
foreign aid was not motivated by generosity alone. As the threat of “Com-
munist subversion” subsided, so did the aid.The real value of foreign aid fell
dramatically in the 1990s; by 2002, Europe, the US, and Japan were providing
only $49 billion a year in aid to five billion people in developing countries,
the lowest level of aid in a decade.This amounted to less than fifteen percent
(Current $Billions)
Worker Remittances to
$140
Low and Middle Income
FW Aid to Low Countries = $70 billion,
$120 and Middle Income 2000
Countries = $44 billion,
2000
$100
($Billions)
$80
$60
$40
$20
$0
1988 1989 1990 1991 1992 1993 1994 1995 1996 1997 1998 1999 2000
FW Official Aid to Low Income Countries FW Official Aid to Middle Income Countries
FW Aid to Higher Income Countries Worker Remittances to Lower Income Countries
Worker Remittances to Middle Income Countries
INTRODUCTION xv
of the $350 billion in subsidies paid to the First World’s twelve million farm-
ers each year, and less than ten percent of the First World’s military budget.7
It was also less than a third of the “0.7% of GDP” aid that rich countries had
promised at the 1992 Earth Summit in Rio, considered the minimum
required to meet their “millennium development” goals.8 Furthermore, only
forty percent of this official aid actually went to poor countries, a proportion
that had also declined sharply since the 1970s. By the turn of the century, the
US and Western Europe were all spending more on pet food, cosmetics, and
weight loss programs each year than on foreign aid.9
Meanwhile, partly because of worsening conditions, there was a sharp
increase in emigration from developing countries to the First World.The new
“guest” workers remitted a large portion of their earnings to beleaguered
families back home. In 2003, this private “foreign” aid exceeded $80 billion—
four times the First World’s entire aid budget for poor countries. Of course
these remittances are also free from the “tying” requirements that encumber
official aid, although they are subject to hefty First World taxes and transfer
fees levied by Western Union, Citigroup, Wells Fargo, and other leading
money-transfer agents.
Faced with this shortage of loans and foreign aid in the 1990s, develop-
ment experts at the World Bank and the IMF invented a whole new policy
paradigm—the so-called “Washington Consensus.” The precise prescription
varied from country to country, but it usually included the same basic ingre-
dients: (1) rapid privatization of state enterprises; (2) a sharp reduction in gov-
ernment budgets—except for interest payments on foreign debt; (3) tough
new anti-inflation measures, especially the maintenance of a strong currency;
(4) the immediate removal of price supports, agricultural subsidies, price caps
for public services, and restrictions on imports; (5) the rapid opening of cap-
ital markets to foreign capital, whether or not there were adequate security
laws, bank regulations, or tax enforcers in place; (6) rigid enforcement of First
World patents and copyrights; and (7) the relaxation of minimum wage laws
and trade union rights. Overall, so far as developing countries was concerned,
this “new” neoliberal approach placed greater reliance on unfettered free mar-
kets than at any time since the nineteenth century.
Throughout the 1990s, leading Western economists, bankers, politicians,
and mainstream journalists righteously lambasted developing countries that
departed from this sauve qui peut model, and the “global policy cops” at the
IMF and the World Bank often conditioned aid and debt relief on its adop-
tion.When it came to taking their own medicine, however, most First World
countries passed. They were fortunate enough not to depend on debt relief
or foreign aid. So despite all their rhetoric about free markets, when their own
farmers, steel producers, textile manufacturers, and other influential industries
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xvi INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCTION xvii
This increased growth, in turn, would supposedly lead not only to higher
profits, but to better living standards for everyone. The privatization of state
assets would supposedly increase competition, reduce debt, improve effi-
ciency, and equalize the distribution of wealth. Global poverty would sup-
posedly decline without any need for messy wealth redistributions. Long-
standing ethnic conflicts would be smoothed over by a New Era of Good
Feeling. Class distinctions would be blurred. The world’s peasant farmers—
more than seventy percent of the population in many countries—would
finally learn to stop loving their olive trees and embrace the brave, new, glob-
alized paradise of the Lexus and the Internet.11
The more progressive members of the business and development intelli-
gentsia also believed that this globalization paradigm would produce enough
extra growth to take care of all the environmental concerns that had been so
badly neglected during the big-project heyday of the 1970s. In the 1990s,
“sustainable development” became the new mantra for the world’s seventy-
five thousand development professionals employed at multilateral institutions,
and the more than one hundred thousand employees of nongovernmental
institutions (NGOs).12 The UN and the World Bank joined hands with com-
panies like Shell, BP, and IBM to sponsor more than two dozen conferences
on the subject. These jamborees, held in colorful places like Paris, Copen-
hagen, Beijing, and Bali, gathered tens of thousands of officials, NGOs, and
journalists, cost hundreds of millions of dollars, and yielded long-winded
statements supporting a long list of “Millennium Development Goals”—like
the reduction of global poverty, infant mortality, malnutrition, and other
quantifiable maladies.
These goals shared several characteristics. First, none of them had any
teeth—unlike the World Trade Organization (WTO), which since 1995 has
been empowered to crack down on countries that violate their commitments
to free trade and intellectual property. Second, the goals were set so far in the
future—2015 to 2020—that no policy makers risked being embarrassed if
they were not met.Third, they skirted contentious issues like the distribution
of wealth; the role of banks and multinationals in dubious projects, capital
flight and corruption; the role of drug companies in vaccine research; the role
of tobacco companies in cigarette smuggling; and the questionable behavior
of particular officials and corporations—many of whom were, after all, attend-
ing these conferences. Finally, the goals’ endorsers were in the enviable posi-
tion of having no budgetary responsibility whatsoever. In the event, First
World governments did not even come close to providing the extra $60 to
$100 billion per year that Oxfam and the World Bank estimated it would cost
to realize all these goals.
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xviii INTRODUCTION
56.0%
34.0%
4.5%
1.0% 1.0% 1.2% 1.3% 2.0%
0.4% 0.7%
Bottom Second Third Fourth Fifth Sixth Seventh Eighth Ninth Top
10% 10 %
( 6.2 billion)
Against the backdrop of sharp aid cutbacks, minimal debt relief, and
mounting Third World hardships, this spectacle of lavish development sum-
mits was surreal, like inviting the world’s poor to dinner and serving them pic-
tures of food.
THE LEGACY
It has not taken long to reveal the fundamental contradictions between
all this high-minded goal setting and the neoliberal paradigm’s fundamentally
“brutalitarian” model. As the latest development spectacle, the 2002 UN’s
World Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg, underscored,
for most developing countries, the “lost decade” of the 1980s was succeeded
only by a decade of failed promises in the 1990s. In particular:
(1) Receding Goals. Only a few short years after the “Millennium
Development Goals” (MDG) were declared, the world has already
fallen behind or given up completely on most of them. The best-
known goal—halving the proportion of people subsisting on less
than one dollar per day by the year 2015—is not likely to be
met, except perhaps in China. Originally, in 1990, the World Bank
predicted that the number of people below this arbitrary poverty
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INTRODUCTION xix
line would drop from 1.125 billion in 1985 to 825 million by 2000.
But in 2001, the World Bank reported that the absolute number
had remained at 1.124 billion. There are also serious conceptual
problems with the World Bank’s whole approach to measuring
global poverty: It appears to substantially understate the size of the
problem.13 It is also clear that, at current course and speed, even the
modest goal of providing at least two dollars per day per person will
be hard to attain for at least half the world’s population by 2015,
unless there are huge increases in aid and debt relief, plus sharp
reductions in First World trade barriers and farm subsidies. All the
other MDGs have also slipped badly behind schedule.14
(2) The Fourth World. Badly wounded in the 1980s, many of the world’s
poorest countries in the 1990s completely fell apart. The forty-nine
countries labeled the world’s “least developed” by the UN now
account for eleven percent of the world’s population, but just one-
half percent of its income. From 1980 to 2000, their real per capita
incomes—which average well below one dollar per day—barely
increased, their share of world income declined, and their share of
world trade fell by half.15 Many of these countries are now best
described as war zones. If one minimal definition of victory for the
world’s development strategy is that it provides hope for the very
poorest of the poor, by this standard, it is very hard to make this track
record look like an achievement.
(3) “Submerging” Markets. Even among “middle-income” developing
countries, the story of the last decade is one of deep disappointment.
Some countries, like Chile, Peru, Mexico, Thailand, Indonesia, and
China 1263 22% 22% 22% 22% 21% 19.4% 0.9% 0.7% 0.8% 1.5% 3.1%
India 1016 14% 15% 16% 16% 17% 17.2% 1.0% 0.8% 0.8% 1.0% 1.4%
High income countries 950 22% 21% 19% 17% 16% 13.0% 84.0% 84.3% 82.1% 82.4% 81.3%
282
100% 100% 100% 100% 100%
China 1263 $112 $120 $168 $349 $824 na 0.7% 3.4% 7.6% 9.0% 5.1%
India 1016 $183 $211 $226 $323 $459 na 1.5% 0.7% 3.6% 3.6% 2.3%
na
na
na
High income countries 950 $9,779 $14,934 $19,265 $24,547 $29,193 na 4.3% 2.6% 2.5% 1.7% 2.8%
282 na 2.5% 2.2% 2.2% 2.0% 2.2%
na
© JSH 2002 Source: World Bank (2002) and UNCTAD (2002) data, JSH analysis
xx INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCTION xxi
(4) Soaring Inequality. Meanwhile, the last few decades have brought extraor-
dinary prosperity to the First World, especially its elites. One result is that the
gap between the living standards of the world’s richest and poorest citizens is
now greater than at any other time in modern history.18 The First World now
accounts for just sixteen percent of the world’s population, but receives more
than eighty-one percent of its income.While this is slightly below the share it
commanded in the 1970s, this is only because of the progress made since then
by relatively non-neoliberal, debt-averse China and India. Even after the stock
market decline of 2000–02, the world’s top 497 billionaires were still worth
more than $1.5 trillion—more than the entire imputed wealth of the world’s
600 million poorest citizens.19
xxii INTRODUCTION
regional antagonisms and trading blocks. Far from leaving extra room to take
care of the environment, education, health, and public order, it has crowded
them out. Far from leading to privatizations that improve efficiency and com-
petition, it has produced a series of giveaways and land grabs that have made
Third World markets less competitive, while making their elites richer than
ever. Far from fostering institutional development and the rule of law, the
neoliberal model has systematically undermined them. Debt dependence has
not been reduced, but prolonged. Growth and development have not been
made sustainable, but even slower and less stable.
All told, by the dawn of the twenty-first century, after thirty years of devel-
opment strategies that were designed in Washington DC, New York, London,
Frankfurt, Paris, and Tokyo, and trillions of dollars in foreign loans, aid, and
investment, more than half of the world’s population still finds daily life a
struggle, surviving on less than two dollars a day, about the same level of real
income they had thirty years ago. More than two billion people still lack access
to basic amenities like electricity, clean water, sanitation, land titles, police and
fire protection, and paved roads, let alone their own phones, bank accounts,
medical care, or Internet access. Despite years of rhetoric about debt relief,
dozens of structural adjustment plans (Baker Plans, Mizakawa Plans, Brady
Bonds, Rubin Plans, Summers Plans, and HIPC Plans), the real value of Third
World debt and the absolute burden of servicing it have continued to grow—
to the point where the total now exceeds $1.7 trillion.20 The cost of servicing
this debt exceeds $375 billion a year—more than all Third World spending on
health or education, nearly ten times their foreign aid receipts, and more than
twice what they have recently received in foreign direct investment.21
This debt service burden now amounts to thirty-seven days per year of
consumption for every man, woman, and child in the Third World, an even
INTRODUCTION xxiii
greater per capita burden than it was in the 1980s. And all this goes to serv-
ice debts that in many cases have less than nothing to show for them.
In short, even if developing countries continue to reform their
economies, it may be decades before capital, aid, and advice are ever as abun-
dant as they were in the last thirty years.Yet in country after country, there is
little to show for all the resources already consumed. After all these costly
experiments with Western development models, there is virtually no example
to date of any country that has pursued either the “big project paradigm” or
the neoliberal development paradigm and emerged with a developed econ-
omy, much less a liberal democracy. But there are plenty of countries that have
ended up as virtual basketcases by taking these half-baked, quasi-religious par-
adigms too seriously.
THE PUZZLE
So how did thirty years of greatly expanded international lending, invest-
ment, aid, and official development efforts end up producing such a fiasco?
Where did all the money actually go? And what can we do, if anything, to
undo the damage that has been done?
There is no shortage of armchair analyses of the so-called “Third World
debt crisis,” or the globalization crisis that succeeded it and continues to this
day.The 1980s debt crisis became visible as early as August l982, when Mex-
ico, Argentina, and twenty-six other countries suddenly rescheduled their
debts at once. Our disappointments with globalization have been a popular
subject for economists and policy makers at least since the Mexico crunch of
January 1995, as amplified by the East Asian and Russian crises in 1997–98,
and the crisis in Turkey, Ecuador, Bolivia, Argentina, Venezuela, and many
other countries since then.
But until now there has been no detailed account of the structural roots of
this prolonged development crisis.Among orthodox economists, the conven-
tional wisdom is still that it originated in a combination of unpredictable
shocks and Third World policies that were either corrupt or just plain stupid,
on top of factors like bad geographic and climatic luck.22 In other words, the
standard explanation of Third World backwardness is a slightly more sophisti-
cated version of the same “blame-the-victim” ideology that ruling elites have
used for centuries to explain poverty and wealth—a combination of “tough
luck” and “their own damn fault.”
For example, the conventional view of the 1980s debt crisis is that, in
response to the l973 oil price rise, Western banks recycled oil deposits from
the Middle East back to the Third World, lending to finance oil imports and
development projects. Independently, a huge new tidal wave of capital flight
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xxiv INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCTION xxv
recruiting flight capital and investment deals from these very same countries,
teaching their clients the basics on how to launder, plunder, and conceal.
The conventional fairy tale glosses over many key questions.What really
became of all the loans and investments? Why did foreign banks lend so much
money to these governments, even while their private banking arms knew
full well that they were financing massive capital flight? Who ended up own-
ing all the juicy assets? How much did the IMF and the World Bank know
about all these shenanigans, and why didn’t they do more to stop them?
It is not easy to give precise answers to such questions; studying the global
underground economy is an exercise in night vision, not double-entry
accounting. One actually has to get up out of the armchair and do some
investigative reporting. But then the patterns that become visible turn out to
be full of villains and victims.
Unfortunately, it has taken years to uncover the truth about such matters,
and we’ve really only begun to scratch the surface. In the last decade, bits and
pieces of the “dirty debt” story have become more accessible.The demise of
kleptocracies like those of Abacha, Andres Perez, Collor, Duvalier, Marcos,
Mobuto, Milosevic, Salinas, Suharto, and Stroessner focused attention on the
billions they managed to steal and stash abroad. The collapse of leading
money-laundering banks like BCCI and BNL, and corrupt regimes in Mex-
ico, Argentina, Turkey, and Indonesia demonstrated the risks that corrupt
banking poses to the entire global financial system.
However, partly because this kind of investigative research is so difficult,
there are only a few rather armchair-ish studies of the global underground
economy and the “real-economique” of underdevelopment. These have also
usually treated the subjects of irresponsible lending, wasteful projects, capital
flight, corruption, money laundering, and havens separately. In fact, they go
hand in hand.The rise of Third World lending in the l970s and 1980s laid the
foundations for a global haven network that now shelters the wealth of the
world’s most venal citizens. The corruption that this network facilitated was
just a special case of a much more general phenomenon—the export of vast
quantities of capital and tax-free incomes by the elites of poor countries, even
as their countries were incurring vast debts and struggling to service them.
Individual kleptocratic regimes and evil dictators come and go, but this
sophisticated transnational system remains more vibrant than ever.
xxvi INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCTION xxvii
xxviii INTRODUCTION
INTRODUCTION xxix
lysts who had not followed the history of these banks in the Third World were
shocked . . . shocked! Those who knew them better were just reminded that
“character is destiny” and that “what goes around, comes around.”As one wise
business colleague of mine once said,“The problem with a rat race is, even if
you win, you are still a rat.”
The official story of the global development crisis leaves out all this dirty
laundry. At best, it reduces the subject to a series of sanitized asides about the
importance of transparency and good governance. Meanwhile, the one-two
punch of the debt/flight boom and the neoliberal fiasco that succeeded it has
been to undermine the role and capacities of the state in developing coun-
tries, creating a larger global underground economy than ever before.
My emphasis on this darker side of globalization is not meant to imply
that every banker was a briber, or every public official a crook. But dirty
money, bad banking, money laundering, and self-seeking chicanery were not
merely incidental to the development crisis. As a governor of the Bank for
International Settlements admitted privately in the late 1980s,“If Latin Amer-
ica’s corrupt politicians simply gave back all the money they’ve stolen from
their own countries, the debt problem could be solved.”24 And most of that
thievery could not have occurred without the active assistance of leading First
World banks, contractors, vendors, multilateral lenders, advisors, and govern-
ments.This was not a natural catastrophe, but a man-made one. For the devel-
oping world to overcome it, it is not only the developing world that will have
to be “reformed.”
Today, despite decades of official development efforts and trillions in for-
eign loans, bonds, and investments, the vast majority of the world’s residents
are still living on the very borderline of existence.Yet most of the “develop-
ing countries” they inhabit are not really poor at all, in terms of natural
resources, technical know-how, or raw human talent.This is the central con-
tradiction that this book seeks to explain.
Some have searched for the explanation among the natural disadvantages
of climate, pestilence, and topography that many of these countries experi-
ence. Some have pointed toward cultural deficiencies—for example, the pur-
ported lack of trust outside the family in some countries, or an unusual
propensity for corruption at all levels of society in others. Some have invoked
the deus ex machina of “policy errors” like overvalued exchange rates, exces-
sive borrowing, and weak securities laws, as if these were uncaused causes and
as if policy were made in a disinterested vacuum. Still others have emphasized
other misfortunes that developing countries have been subject to—like the
1970’s oil crisis, the HIV/AIDS epidemic in Africa, Indonesia’s bad luck in
having Thailand as a neighbor when its currency plummeted in July 1997,
and so on.
FM 9/18/03 3:26 PM Page xxx
xxx INTRODUCTION
More than eighty years later, we now understand that the Allies’ failure to
transcend their self-righteous rage and assist Germany’s revival with relief,
debt, and aid after World War I contributed mightily to Hitler’ rise and the
coming of World War II. We also realize that one key obstacle to debt relief
in that period was the fact that a handful of major banks, notably JPMorgan,
FM 9/18/03 3:26 PM Page xxxi
INTRODUCTION xxxi
was deeply vested in the issue. After World War II, of course, we tried to fol-
low Keynes’s advice with respect to Germany—he was a prime force for the
creation of the “International Bank for Reconstruction and Development,”
the forerunner of the World Bank, at Bretton Woods in 1944. Liberals and
conservatives alike also claimed to have learned “the lessons of Munich”—the
importance of standing up to aggressive dictators.
More recently, however, we seem to have forgotten Keynes’s advice and
the other lesson of Munich—about the relationship between security and
development, and the social conditions that foster wars and dictators in the
first place.
The first step is understanding.Today, most First Worlders are living in a
bubble. Only twenty percent of Americans have passports, just twenty-one
percent of non-Hispanic Americans speak a second language, and less than a
fifth of adults have ever traveled abroad.A poll taken in late 2002 showed that
only thirteen percent of 18–24 year olds in the US could find Iraq on a map,
fourteen percent could find Israel, thirty-one percent could find the UK,
forty-two percent could find Japan, and only two-thirds could even find the
Pacific Ocean.26 This kind of ignorance is not just unfortunate. It is danger-
ous. It is especially menacing to the citizens of the Third World, because the
First World now has more political, economic, and military hegemony than
ever before. It is also a menace to ourselves, because if this power is not used
wisely, a growing portion of the Third World will simply disappear into “the
Fourth World,” a vast, impoverished, hostile labor camp without many visi-
tors, investors, or prospects for growth. And that, in turn, will only heighten
our insecurities and raise the drawbridge even higher.
Those who wish to alter these current trends toward immiserization and
anti-development may choose to put their faith in the global economy, free
trade, investment, technology and entrepreneurship if they like. But as this
book documents in detail, these market-based nostrums have not been suffi-
cient. To go beyond them, people will need to invest in their own globaliza-
tion, their own practical education about how the world really works.
This kind of education is not available in a university economics course.
People need to understand why political parties, the police, the military, the
media, the courts, and the church are often so unresponsive to popular
demands, even in nominal “democracies,” why senior officials, banks, corpo-
rations, and elites continue to prefer monster projects to schools and clinics;
why the courts rarely enforce the law against people of means, let alone global
companies like Freeport McMoran or Citigroup; why the radical liberaliza-
tion of global capital markets and trade has taken precedence over the
enforcement of tax codes, labor laws, health codes, securities laws, environ-
mental laws, education rights, pension reform, and property rights for ordi-
FM 9/18/03 3:26 PM Page xxxii
xxxii INTRODUCTION
nary people; and why the poor are subject to unavoidable excise taxes, even
as the elites are encouraged to invest tax-free, at home and abroad.
They also need to ask why developed and developing countries alike,
after fifty years of malpractice, still permit First World bankers, corporations,
and investors to engage in business practices in the Third World that would
be grossly illegal back home; why the anti-foreign bribery statutes of the US
and the OECD countries are so underenforced; why undocumented capital
is recruited aggressively from developing countries while undocumented
labor is increasingly harassed; and why the huge proportion of the Third
World’s multi-trillion dollar debt that was contracted illegally and spent on
failed projects and elite bank accounts deserves to be serviced at all.
But first of all, they may want to start with the question of where the
money went.This book may help them find it.
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 1
C HA PT E R O N E
DEBT ELEPHANTS
In the carnival days from 1922 to 1929, when money was easy, many bankers
forsook the dignified, aloof attitude traditional of bankers and became, in
reality, high pressure salesmen of money. They carried on a cutthroat com-
petition against their fellow bankers, and once they obtained the business,
endeavored to urge larger loans on the borrowing countries.
—Francis White, US assistant secretary of state for Latin America, 19301
We know a great deal about who the poor are, where they are, and how they
live. We understand what keeps them poor and what must be done to
improve their lives.
—Barber Conable,World Bank president, 1990
All these projects are either finished or given up, so it’s not worthwhile to
speak about these dams. We are not politicians, and we have to look for
work. . . .
—senior executive, Lahmeyer International/RWE AG, 1999
One major piece of the puzzle about where all the money loaned to
developing countries went, in addition to capital flight, involved wasteful
projects. Many of these projects were started in the 1970s and 1980s, but they
had long-term effects—not only providing a fountain of corruption, capital
flight, and continuing environmental damage, but also laying the foundations
for the 1990s privatization boom, when many governments found themselves
trying to sell these elephants back to the private sector, or at least clean up
after them.To understand the foundations of the development crisis and the
prolonged consequences of these widespread “mistakes,” we’ll examine a cross
section of such projects in different countries and then draw some general
conclusions.
Almost everywhere one goes to research the history of the development
crisis, one hears a similar tale:
2 BLOOD BANKERS
the second. He takes his friend on a drive to a huge dam. “See that proj-
ect? Fifty percent.” Later, the second was visiting the first, who had an even
more impressive estate. “Confidentially, how did you get so rich?” the sec-
ond asks.“I will show you,” says the first.They take a drive to a river where
a major dam was supposed to have been built.“You see that dam?” the first
official says, pointing to the completely unobstructed river. “One hundred
percent.”
BRAZIL’S PHARAOHS
To illustrate this point, we’ll start with Simonsen’s own Brazil, the world’s
fifth largest country, accounting for at least forty percent of South America’s
economic activity. Brazil, the Third World’s largest borrower in the 1970s, had
an unusual number of “pharaohnic” projects. It is also a fascinating case study
because its networks of influence and corruption were absolutely Byzantine,
and for most of the 1990s, neoliberals ruled the roost. One of them, Fernando
Collor, was booted out of the presidency in October 1992 after just two years
in office for corruption—the proceeds of which were laundered with the
help of several Miami private bankers. The other, Fernando Henrique Car-
doso, was a French-speaking political economy professor from the University
of Sao Paulo, a supposed Social Democrat. After winning the 1994 election,
he developed a taste for power and took a sharp rightward turn, implement-
ing a “strong reis” policy that stifled inflation and growth, slashed tariffs, and
barriers to foreign investment, and ordained the world’s largest privatization
program—partly to clean up all the debt elephants, but mainly to secure
another term in office.
After all this, today Brazil still remains the Third World’s largest debtor.
Indeed, it is now paying more debt service, as a share of national income, than
it did at the height of the 1980s debt crisis! It also has to generate even more
income to pay dividends to a hungry new crop of foreign investors. In 2002,
after all its “reforms of the 1990s,” Brazil still needed a $30 billion IMF bailout
to prevent it from following Argentina into default.And it is hardly out of the
woods. In late 2002 it elected Luis (“Lula”) Ignacio da Silva as president, a
bearded leftist metal worker from Pernambuco in Brazil’s Northeast. Lula had
been running for president since 1989. He was finally elected on his fourth
try because most Brazilians had become completely fed up with thirty years
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 3
DEBT ELEPHANTS 3
of corruption, rising debts, and grand neoliberal experiments. So how did all
this come to pass? In a nutshell, as Lula said during his campaign, “The elite
failed in the art of governing our country.”
In the l970s, Brazil believed it had every right to become a First World
country as quickly as possible.What it did become was the world’s largest and
most profitable Third World banking market, with more than one hundred
public projects in the energy, transport, and telephone sectors. By 1990, more
than twenty-five percent of its $120 billion foreign debt was derived from
projects in the energy sector alone. With First World export credit agencies,
banks, equipment suppliers, and influential local contractors and politicians
falling all over themselves for a piece of these projects, mundane concerns like
profitability, the cost of capital, and project risk went by the boards—antici-
pating the First World’s Internet boom in the late 1990s, when almost anyone
with a business plan could get his startup funded.
After 1979, when the easy money began to dry up, Brazil got caught out.
Many of its hastily conceived, capital-intensive projects turned out to be
poorly designed and way behind schedule. Other projects might have been
economic if they had been permitted to charge reasonable prices for their
services, but politically-influential consumers of electricity, transportation, and
telephone services in Brazil were used to subsidized prices. Beneath the sur-
face, there was a whole fabric of corruption—commissions on loans, kick-
backs on contracts, overpriced bids awarded without competition, nepotism,
contributions to political campaigns—which lubricated the whole system.
This yielded a whole herd of “debt elephants,” a huge overhang of unser-
viceable debts, and a structural shortage of public services that continues to
this day.
If Brazil had been Enron, it would have been allowed to declare bank-
ruptcy. But international bankers had discovered the best thing of all about
developing countries: unlike private debtors, they are not allowed to declare
bankruptcy. Indeed, if they try to default on their debts, powerful global insti-
tutions like the IMF exist to bail out the banks and pressure the countries to
pay.
• Eighty miles west of Rio de Janeiro, on a site the locals call Itaorna
(“bad stone”), are Brazil’s three costly attempts to build nuclear power plants.
The contract for Angra I, a 626-megawatt plant, was awarded to Westinghouse
and Bechtel in l970, funded by export credits from the US Export-Import
(“EXIM”) Bank. It was supposed to cost $320 million and be ready by 1975.
In reality, it cost $2.1 billion and wasn’t in commercial operation until l983.
Then it developed the nasty habit of turning itself on and off—earning the
nickname “firefly.” Angra I is still in operation, but it suffers from repeated
equipment failures. In May 2000, thousands of gallons of radioactive seawater
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 4
4 BLOOD BANKERS
leaked from the plant, a fact that Brazil’s nuclear power authorities neglected
to reveal for four months. Similar malfunctioning nuclear plants were built by
Westinghouse and funded by EXIM Bank loans in the Philippines, Spain,
Sweden and Yugoslavia.2
The construction of Angra II, a 1,229-megawatt nuclear plant, was started
in late 1975 by Norberto Odebrecht, the owner of what has since become
Brazil’s largest construction company. For some reason Odebrecht, which had
no previous experience with nuclear plants, got the bid without competition.
At the time, that didn’t seem to matter, because Odebrecht was able to rely
on technology from the German company Siemens, plus generous loans from
Deutsche Bank and HERMES, the German export development bank. It also
had very close ties to General Ernesto Geisel, Brazil’s unelected German-
speaking president in the mid-1970s, who became president of an Odebrecht
subsidiary after he retired from office. Angra II was to be the first of eight
nuclear plants built by Siemens for Electrobras, Brazil’s state-owned electric-
ity monopoly, under the terms of the “Agreement of the Century” that Geisel
concluded with the Germans in 1975.3
All these plants were supposed to be finished by 1990. Angra II was sup-
posed to cost $1.6 billion and be operational by 1983. In fact, it only went
live twenty-six years later, in July 2001, at a total cost of more than $10 bil-
lion—excluding the opportunity costs of Rio’s severe electricity shortages all
those years. One of the key problems was indeed “bad stone.” Built without
solid foundations, at a location that had suffered one earthquake in 1961 and
another in 1976,Angra II became known as the world’s only “sliding” nuclear
power plant.4 Angra II also set records not only for its delays, but also for its
total cost—as one leading Brazilian engineer remarked,“If you divide $10 bil-
lion by 1,300 megawatts, you come up with the price of diamonds or
cocaine, not energy.”5
Nor was this the end of the story. Angra III, another 1,229-megawatt
nuclear plant that was financed by the Germans and built by the politically
influential Odebrecht, using the same aging “pressure water reactor” technol-
ogy as Angra II, was supposed to cost $1 billion. It was started in 1986, then
“mothballed” for fifteen years, after $2 billion had been spent finishing just
thirty percent of it. In the interim, Siemens sold its nuclear subsidiary to the
French—Germany’s Green Party increased its political influence, and the
country’s leaders decided to close their own nuclear plants and stopped
financing new ones abroad. Nuclear plants were also explicitly excluded from
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 5
DEBT ELEPHANTS 5
6 BLOOD BANKERS
one of the Third World’s top arms exporters. Its top customer was none other
than Iraq’s Saddam Hussein. In addition to huge quantities of tanks, airplanes,
and jeeps, at least until 1990, Brazil secretly supplied Saddam Hussein with
thousands of kilos of uranium yellow cake, in addition to expertise on fuel
reprocessing and missiles. When Saddam invaded Kuwait in 1990, a twenty-
nine-person team under Brazil’s “Werner von Braun,” Dr. Hugo de Oliveira
Piva, was actually still in Baghdad, helping Iraq develop long-range missiles.
Dr. Piva had been a director of Brazil’s Aerospace Technology Center, leading
a program to convert its Sonda IV sounding rocket into a nuclear-capable
long range missile. In the late 1980s he led a team of Brazilian engineers that
worked with Iraq to develop two three-stage, 1000-mile ballistic missiles, the
Al Abid and Tammuz, using Scud motors for the first two stages, and a new
Brazilian-designed third stage. The 48-ton Al Abid was reportedly close to
completion by the time of the invasion, just five years after Iraq had initiated
its long-range missile program—a record pace that only Brazil’s assistance can
explain. This revelation figured in the Bush adminstration’s Fall 2002 assess-
ment that Saddam Hussein might not be far away from possessing enough
plutonium to assemble a nuclear weapon—a combination of German cen-
trifuges, stockpiles of Brazilian “yellow cake,” and the lethal skills of a few for-
mer Nucleobras experts.As we’ll see later, one of the key companies involved
in this dubious Iraq-Brazil arms trade was financed by dirty deals made by
JPMorgan’s senior vice president for Latin America.7
In retrospect, the notion of subsidizing the export of nuclear power with
cheap loans to Third World countries all over the planet was probably not one
of the finest hours for either First World development experts or national
security specialists.After all, even First World countries have had trouble mas-
tering the safety and security hazards, capital costs, and toxic wastes of nuclear
power—to the point where no new nuclear plants have been ordered in
North America and Western Europe in twenty-five years. For developing
countries with relatively weak safety standards and environmental laws, unsta-
ble economies, deep national rivalries, weak export controls, lawless militaries,
and capital shortages, it seems especially risky. Of course having nuclear plants
isn’t sufficient for producing nuclear weapons. However, except for China and
North Korea, every Third World country that has tried to acquire them has
started with nuclear power plants. In Brazil’s case, its transition to democracy
in the 1980s may have saved us from nuclear proliferation in Latin America
and perhaps Iraq. But Brazil itself has been paying a hefty price since then for
this particularly nasty debt elephant.
• Unfortunately, Brazil was not that much better at managing large hydro
projects. For example, Balbina, a 250-megawatt hydro dam on the River
Uatami near Manaus, in the middle of the Amazon river basin, was designed
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 7
DEBT ELEPHANTS 7
This was our most profitable project ever. Sebastian Camargo saw it coming
about l970, so he “made friends” with General Stroessner. Originally the bid
went to Andrade, then Stroessner went to General Geisel and said, “You’re
hurting my good friend Sebastian Camargo.” So a new bid was made and
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 8
8 BLOOD BANKERS
Itaipu was conceived in the early 1970s—the original 1972 price tag was
estimated at $3.6 billion. Construction started in l975 and was supposed to
take five years. In fact, it took almost three years just to carve a 1.3-mile-long,
300-foot-deep, 490-foot-wide diversion channel to shift the course of the
Parana River, the world’s seventh largest river, before dam construction could
begin. More than forty-two thousand people had to be evicted to make way
for the dam’s 135,000-hectare reservoir. Many were resettled in Amazonia,
with unhappy consequences for themselves as well as for the indigenous
Amazonians.When Itaipu was finally completed in 1991, the actual cost was
more than $21 billion, adding $8 billion to Brazil’s foreign debt. A former
Paraguayan minister of energy described it as “possibly the largest fraud in the
history of capitalism.” The dam produces sixty times as much power as
Paraguay consumes and sells the surplus to Brazil, at prices that, at Brazil’s
insistence, have often been below cost. As a result, the binational commission
that manages Itaipu now has a $4.2 billion debt of its own.
Among the key contractors involved in the project were the Swedish-
Swiss company ABB/Alstom, France’s Dumez, Germany’s Siemens, which
supplied eight of the dam’s eighteen turbines, Brazil’s construction firms
Andrade Gutierrez and Odebrecht, and Paraguay’s engineering company
Conempa SA, which was also involved in the infamous Yacyreta Dam proj-
ect. At the time, Conempa was headed by Juan Carlos Wasmosy, who later
served as Paraguay’s first elected president in thirty-four years from 1993 to
1998. In a politically charged case in 1994, one of Wasmosy’s opponents
in the 1993 election, Ricardo Canese, was found guilty of criminal slander
and sentenced to two months in jail for accusing President Wasmosy of hav-
ing made his fortune by facilitating huge Itaipu kickbacks to former dictator
Alfredo Stroessner.Turning the tables, Canese became energy minister in the
next government, and in 2002, Wasmosy was sentenced to four years in jail
for diverting $40 million from a social welfare institute to one of his private
banks. In 2001, the newspaper La Nación also published documents which
allegedly showed that he had accumulated up to $700 million in Cayman
Island accounts during his six years in office. As of 2003, that is still being
investigated.11
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 9
DEBT ELEPHANTS 9
• Tucurui, the Amazon’s first power dam, is located two hundred miles
south of Belem on the Toncatins River. Work on the 4,200-megawatt dam
began in 1976. Camargo Correa, yet another politically influential Brazilian
construction firm, was selected to do the job, despite the fact that its bid was
high-cost, because President Geisel wanted to help Camargo recover from its
huge losses on the Guri Dam in Venezuela. ABB/Alstom was also a key sup-
plier to this dam.Tucurui’s first phase was finished in 1984 at a cost of $6 bil-
lion, four times the original cost projection of $1.4 billion. One former proj-
ect manager for Camargo at Tucurui explained:“All our experience had been
in the south—we didn’t know a thing about building dams in the Amazon.
But projects like this one were awarded on ‘political’ grounds, and then you
negotiated the costs.”12 As an investigation by Brazil’s Congress later discov-
ered in the mid-1990s, twenty to thirty percent “overpricing” by government
contractors on these dam projects was the rule of thumb. And there were
many other irregularities. In l983, in the Relatorio Saraiva scandal, a leading
French banker charged that Brazil’s minister, Antonio Delfim Neto, had
demanded a huge bribe to get the project approved, while he was in charge
of what became known as Brazil’s “ten percent embassy” in Paris.13
Tucurui also proved to be another ecological disaster. In March l980, the
Tocantins River came within inches of overflowing the dam.The sea backed
up because of the river’s reduced outflow, creating massive salinization dam-
age. Mosquitoes multiplied in the new reservoir, and fisheries complained that
the river’s fish stocks were badly depleted.The dam also displaced twenty-four
thousand people, including several indigenous groups that virtually disap-
peared. Like Balbina, Tucurui also submerged an entire forest. The resulting
acid gases from the trees corroded the turbines. Capemi, a private company
owned by Brazilian military officers and financed by a $100 million foreign
loan from Lazard Frere, Banque Nacional de Paris, and American Express, had
been set up to log the lake. But Amazon hardwoods proved to be so hard that
ordinary saws couldn’t cut them, so Capemi went broke and the money dis-
appeared. As for Tucurui’s electricity, Brazil agreed to sell a third of it below
cost to two aluminum projects that were located downstream in Belem:
Alumar, a joint venture of Camargo, Correa, Alcoa, and Shell, and a Japanese
consortium.These sweetheart deals meant that Eletronorte, already burdened
by a $2.3 billion foreign debt, lost three hundred dollars for every ton of alu-
minum produced.14 Finally, when Eletronorte completed the dam’s $1.5 bil-
lion second phase in the 1990s, adding eleven new turbines to create another
4,000-megawatts of capacity, it discovered that the dam would operate far
below capacity during the dry season because there was too little reservoir
storage upstream.15
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 10
10 BLOOD BANKERS
• In early 1979, when the first signs of another oil price shock appeared
in the wake of the Iran hostage crisis, Brazil’s economy minister Antonio
Delfim Neto was desperate to keep Brazil’s foreign borrowing spree rolling.
With the help of his bankers, especially JPMorgan’s Tony Gebauer, he con-
trived a novel scheme. Brazil would launch several new power projects, not
because of their individual merits, but to generate billions more in supplier
credits—courtesy of foreign equipment vendors like GE and Siemens and
their government supporters, export credit agencies like the US EXIM Bank
and Germany’s HERMES. He asked his powerful friend, Paulo Maluf, the
governor of Sao Paulo State, to help out. Maluf was happy to do so. Big con-
struction projects were an opportunity to hand out lucrative contracts to
powerful empreteiros like Camargo Correa, influential engineering firms like
Sao Paulo’s THEMAG, and equipment vendors, who, in turn, could be quite
appreciative with campaign contributions and other amenities.16
Maluf promptly ordered four new hydro dams, plus a new canal and a
hairbrained scheme to explore for oil in Sao Paulo State.17 The prime bor-
rower would be CESP, Sao Paulo’s state-owned electricity company. One of
these projects was a new 1,815-megawatt hydro dam to be built at Porto Pri-
mavera on the Parana River, on Sao Paulo’s border with Mato Grosso do Sul,
the home of the Pantenal, one of the world’s most remarkable ecological
reserves. Its prime contractors would be Camargo Correa and THEMAG.The
dam’s original design estimated it would cost $1.5 billion, including interest,
and be completed by 1987.18 Construction began in June 1980.
More than twenty years later, the dam—now called “Engenheiro Sérgio
Motta,” after a former communications minister—is still not finished. In Feb-
ruary 1999, Porto Primavera was inaugurated with just sixty-five percent of
its designed capacity, at an estimated cost of $10 billion.19 At the earliest, the
dam will be finished by 2004. CESP is now bankrupt, saddled with $4 billion
in foreign debts, due mainly to these six projects, plus several billion more in
legal liabilities. All this debt has foiled Brazil’s repeated attempts to privatize
CESP. Not surprisingly, there is little demand for a debt-ridden company that
produces the most expensive electricity in Brazil and faces dozens of lawsuits
from environmentalists, displaced farmers and Indians, unpaid creditors, and
the State of Sao Paulo itself.20
But, as in the case of Balbina, Porto Primavera’s greatest costs were not
financial. It created a reservoir that flooded 1,400 square miles, an area larger
than Itaipu’s reservoir, even though Porto Primavera produces less than ten
percent of Itaipu’s energy. According to environmental experts, the dam has
drowned 77 river islands and 118 archaeological sites, destroying wetlands that
contain thousands of animal and plant species, including endangered species
like the spotted jaguar and the jacaré crocodile. It also displaced six thousand
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 11
DEBT ELEPHANTS 11
farmers, ceramics workers (the area has unusual clays), and fishermen. The
dam was constructed with no fish ladders, so species like the dourado and the
pacu are unable to swim upstream to breed. As a result, fishing on the river
has declined by eighty percent. It has also forced some of last remaining mem-
bers of an Indian tribe, the Xavante, off their lands. Overall, while there are
more than 140 competitors for this title, Porto Primavera is certainly in the
running for Brazil’s worst dam project ever.21
• The $600 million Transamazonica Highway was started in l970 by the
Medici government and financed by the World Bank’s largest foreign loan up
to that point. It was part of the military’s strategy to reduce pressure on
landowners in southern Brazil—in President Medici’s words, “To bring men
without land to land without men.” But the jungle soon overgrew the road,
and it was also flooded by the Tucurui Dam’s lake—a case of debt elephants
at war with each other. Interestingly, one key motivation for the construction
of this and other roads in the Amazon was to gain access to uranium deposits
that Brazil’s planning elite believed it might use in its own nuclear plants—or
export to all the others built around the world.
• In l98l, the World Bank loaned Brazil $445 million to help finance the
$1.5 billion Polonoreste project, which set out to build a nine hundred-mile
highway from Cuiba—the capital of Mata Grosso—to Porto Velho, in the
remote Amazon state of Rondonia, on the border with Bolivia. The World
Bank approved the loan despite serious objections from its own economists
and several outside consultants. When the road was finished in l985, more
than thirteen thousand land-hungry colonists per month—five hundred
thousand by 1991—poured into Rondonia, accompanied by corporate farm-
ers, who acquired huge forest tracts and burned them to the ground to get
tax breaks. Deforestation increased tenfold; in just four years an area the size
of Wisconsin was deforested, disrupting the lives of the Nambicuara tribe and
setting the stage for conflicts among land-hungry peasants, Indians, and
ranchers that still continue.The colonialists also discovered, to their surprise,
that the region had some of the world’s most fragile soils. But over the next
decade, backed by continuing government subsidies for logging and cattle
ranching, the deforestation continued. In 2001, for example, logging and fires
reportedly destroyed 6,095 square miles of the Amazon, an area about half the
size of Belgium.At current cutting rates, we are headed for a disaster that will
have impacts far beyond Brazil: more than forty percent of the Amazon will
be deforested or heavily degraded by 2020.22
• The Ferrovia do Aço, a railroad from Minas Gerais to Volta Redonda,
which was started in l975, was supposed to cost $1.2 billion. By 1996, when
Brazil privatized its rail network, the project had consumed $2.1 billion in
government loans and was still unfinished. President Jose Sarney also spent
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12 BLOOD BANKERS
$2.4 billion on his favorite railroad, Ferrovia Norte Sul, when he was in office
during the late 1980s, to connect his home state of Maranhao with the
remote state of Goias—“the railroad from no place to nowhere,” as one
observer put it. A key empreteiro involved in both projects, Murilio Mendes,
was a member of Sarney’s “kitchen cabinet.” In l987, one week before Norte
Sul’s contractors were to be selected by sealed bid, Folha de Sao Paulo pub-
lished a list of eighteen preselected winners, including Mendes’ company.23
• By the late 1980s, the foreign debts of Siderbrás, Brazil’s state-owned
steel company, totaled $11 billion, and many of its projects were losing money.
For example, a $500 million steel mill in Tubarao was built in the wrong place
and was designed to use charcoal, a steel-making technology not commonly
used since nineteenth-century England.The Acominas steel project near Belo
Horizonte consumed $1.1 billion to build one of the world’s largest blast fur-
naces, to make structural steel for US-style high-rise buildings. Unfortunately
few Brazilian contractors knew how to build US-style high-rise buildings,
and the furnace never worked properly. In the state of Para, another railroad
was constructed with a $300 million World Bank loan to connect the Cara-
jas iron-ore project to the ocean. Twenty-two pig iron factories were built
next to the railroad. Each one consumed five thousand acres of Amazon for-
est per year. (Because of the soil’s delicacy there has never been a successful
Amazon reforestation project.) Brazil sold the iron to auto companies like
Volkswagen and Ford at prices sixty percent below world levels—a case of
these auto companies literally driving away with the forest.24
In the 1990s, in an attempt to get out from under these burdens, Brazil
swung to the other extreme, abolishing Siderbrás in 1990 and privatizing all
its operating companies for $9.4 billion.This seemed like a good idea at the
time. Not only had the sector compiled a huge foreign debt, but its operat-
ing losses in 1990 alone were $2.2 billion. In 1994, however, one year after
privatization, the companies made $1 billion in net profits—leading many to
wonder whether the government should have tried to restructure the enter-
prise itself. On closer inspection, the rapid improvement was due to a com-
bination of luck and special help to the new owners with price controls and
debt relief. But the sector had been poorly managed for so long that it was
easy for privatization advocates to claim a victory.25
• In l975, under the influence of its powerful sugar lobby, Brazil launched
a multi-billion dollar effort to make gasohol, a gasoline substitute, from sugar
cane and corn.Then sugar prices plummeted, bankrupting many cane farm-
ers and sharply increasing the program’s cost. But by the time Brazil’s 450 dis-
tilleries were ready to supply alcohol in the late l980s, prices had recovered,
and it had become more profitable to export sugar than to make gasohol.To
satisfy industrial interests, Brazil also set prices for public services, electricity
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 13
DEBT ELEPHANTS 13
and gasoline far below cost. As a result, most state-owned enterprises realized
negative returns throughout the 1980s. This stimulated energy demand and
added to the government deficit. Meanwhile, Petrobras, Brazil’s state oil com-
pany, took its time with the search for oil—the rich Campos basin, discovered
in the early l960s, wasn’t even drilled until 1983, and still remains underde-
veloped.
• Brazil’s many other wasteful projects include Complexo Pedra do Car-
valo, a Bahian water treatment plant that was supposed to cost $85 million
and ended up costing $800 million; Sonegran do Sao Paulo, a sanitation
facility so overbuilt that it could handle twenty times the city’s actual sewage;
the Rio-Niteroi Bridge, a $400 million boondoggle funded by Banque
Rothschild that collapsed while under construction and suffered a fifty per-
cent cost overrun; the $150 million Regional Labor Court of Sao Paulo, a
construction project approved by President Cardoso in 1996, after which $80
million disappeared, reportedly into the hands of politicians and judges; the
$3.9 billion Belo Monte hydro dam on the River Xingu in the state of Para,
which has been on-and-off again for ten years, has already cost twice its
original budget, and would flood another 270 square miles of agricultural
land and forest; and the $2 billion dollar Sudene and Sudam development
bureaus for the Amazon region, which were abolished by Cardoso in 2001
after it was determined that most of the money had been diverted into pri-
vate pockets.26
14 BLOOD BANKERS
income—the same share that Brazil spends on all health care and public edu-
cation combined, and an even greater share than it paid during the 1980s debt
crisis. Up to half of this is traceable directly or indirectly to misguided projects.
And this mess existed even after Brazil mounted the world’s largest priva-
tization program in the 1990s, when the neoliberal administrations of Fer-
nando Collor and Fernando Henrique Cardoso sold off 119 state-owned
enterprises and other assets to foreign and domestic private investors for $103
billion.
But privatization was not really about cleaning up after the debt ele-
phants, reforming the economy, or democratizing Brazil’s extraordinarily
unequal distribution of wealth. Rather, it was mainly about selling off the
state’s crown jewels. This financed a (temporarily) strong currency, kept the
IMF happy, and, most importantly, profited the elite—just as in the 1970s,
when loans had provided opportunists like Delfim Neto.
In this case, the candy was not big projects, but the very best public assets:
valuable cellular and tollroad concessions;Telebras, Brazil’s telephone system,
which was sold for just $19 billion in 1998; and CVRD, the world’s largest
mining company, which had little debt, no subsidies, and generated $600 mil-
lion in profits in 1997, the year before it was privatized for just $3.5 billion.
These assets were sold, not in public offerings, but in “controlled packages” at
private auctions—an approach that was later revealed to have been riddled
with corruption. And the main beneficiaries included key government offi-
cials, foreign banks like Citigroup, FleetBoston, CreditSuisse, and JPMorgan
Chase, foreign investors like Enron,Worldcom, Bell South,Telecom Italia, and
Telefonica, domestic investors like Bradesco, Globo, Odebrecht, and Andrade
Gutierrez. They also included Banco Opportunity, the Rio investment bank
that managed money for George Soros, Citibank, and the family of Antonio
Carlos Magalhaes, who was the president of Brazil’s Senate and the country’s
most powerful “kingmaker” until he was forced to resign for spying on his
colleagues in 2001. For a time, these investors took advantage of the opening
to buy up many of Brazil’s finest private companies. As one leading Brazilian
magazine commented, “The history of capitalism has seen very few transfers
of control as intense as this over a short period of time.”
Unfortunately, the privatization boom ended almost as badly as the debt
boom before it. As time went by, there were fewer easily sold assets on offer,
and financial crises in distant places like Indonesia and Russia, plus several
major corruption scandals involving the privatization, made investors increas-
ingly nervous about Brazil. So higher and higher real interest rates—twenty-
seven percent in 1998—were needed to keep the dollars coming in and pre-
vent the reis from plummeting. However, high real rates and the increasingly
overvalued currency stifled economic growth and encouraged increased for-
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 15
DEBT ELEPHANTS 15
eign borrowing. The incredible interest costs also swelled the government’s
budget deficit.
Eventually this whole neoliberal edifice fell like a house of cards. In
August 1998, soon after Russia’s devaluation, investors began to speculate that
Brazil would also have to devalue.They made this a self-fulfilling prophecy by
taking advantage of Brazil’s new liberal capital markets to take their money
out of the country. In the second half of 1998, the volume of flight capital
exceeded the volume of direct foreign investment brought in by privatization.
Reserves were shrinking and the current account deficit was mounting. In
January 1999, despite a $42 billion IMF loan, Cardoso was forced to float the
reis, and its value sank by more than sixty percent in two months.
At the end of Cardoso’s pseudoreforms, Brazil ended up with slower
growth, rising unemployment, a huge budget deficit, ballooning foreign and
domestic debts, a growing stock of unfunded pension fund liabilities, rising
inflation, corruption on a scale that made Delfim Neto’s generation envious,
and greater inequality among Brazil’s social classes than ever, with some of its
finest public assets now in the hands of its venal elite. In August 2002, Brazil
needed yet another $30 billion IMF bailout to prevent it from following
Argentina into the tank. In October 2002, the country finally elected da
Silva—an outright opponent of neoliberal policies. In short, by postponing
issues like the need for devaluation, real reform of the domestic economy, and
greater attention to social justice, privatization played the same role foreign
loans had in the 1970s and early 1980s. In a sense, it was the largest white ele-
phant of all.
While Brazil had an unusual number of debt elephants, other developing
countries also had a few herds of their own. In the l970s, the Philippines built
a $2.3 billion, 620-megawatt Westinghouse nuclear power plant at scenic
Morong on the Bataan Peninsula just thirty miles from Manila.The plant was
within twenty-five miles of three earthquake fault lines and less than five
miles from two active volcanoes, Natib and Pinatubo, which erupted in l991.
The Philippines National Power Corporation had started the project in
1973, its largest power plan ever, as part of a national plan to build 6 nuclear
plants, in order to cut dependence on oil and satisfy the islands’ fast-growing
demand for electricity. In early 1974, GE submitted a proposal to build two
620 MW plants for $700 million. Then Westinghouse suddenly jumped in.
Its Philippine distributor got in touch with one of Marcos’ golf partners, Her-
minio T. Disini, whose wife was Imelda’s governess and first-cousin.38a1
In May 1974, after making all these arrangements, Westinghouse pre-
sented a cursory “proposal” of its own that had a $500 million price tag for
two 626 MW plants.The proposal made lots of promises, which were subject
to lots of qualifications:
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 16
16 BLOOD BANKERS
(Our) proposed approach can result in an overall saving of time of two to three years.
. . . A great advantage to the Philippines is the number of overseas turnkey plants in
this size range that Westinghouse is managing. Plants similar to the one we propose
are being undertaken in Brazil,Yugoslavia, Korea, Italy, Sweden, and Switzerland.We
estimate that your cost for two turnkey type 626 MW electric plants will be $500
million, or $650 million, including fuel and transmission lines. . . .The estimate is sub-
ject to:......final determination scope . . . escalation . . . evaluation of site data . . . estab-
lishment of a final project schedule . . . and development of plant layouts.
Despite the vague and open-ended nature of this proposal, in May 1974
Marcos ordered NPC’s general manager to accept it.The astonished GE exec-
utives got the news from Marcos’s personal secretary in late June.38a4 Only
then, however, did real negotiations begin. By September 1974 Westing-
house’s bid was up to $695 million; by February 1976, when the contract was
actually signed, the price was $722 million for just one plant, plus another
$387 million of interest and escalation cost. By 1992, including interest on the
debt, the direct cost was more than $2.5 billion, for a “Three Mile Island-
type” plant with more than 4000 design errors that even a Marcos-appointed
commission would conclude was unsafe to operate.
Citibank used similar inducements to become the project’s agent bank,
while William J. Casey, the Rogers & Wells partner who headed the US
EXIM Bank from 1974 to 1976, overruled his own staff at EXIM and
approved the project. This was the bank’s biggest financing project until
Indonesia’s Paiton project in the 1990s, part of more than $7.7 billion that
EXIM devoted to promoting nuclear power around the world. Casey
returned to Rogers & Wells in 1976–80, ran the Reagan-Bush campaign from
February to November 1980, and then became Reagan’s CIA Director from
January 1981 to December 1986. Later on, it turned out that Casey’s former
law firm, Rogers & Wells, had worked on numerous Marcos investments, and
that one of Casey’s closest friends and clients, fellow OSS veteran John M.
Shaheen—also later a veteran of the Iran-Contra arms deals—had partnered
with Marcos in a curious Hong Kong bank.27 And Marcos himself later
alleged—with some degree of support from Reagan’s 1984 campaign man-
ager Ed Rollins, along with evidence discovered at Malacanang Palace after
the dictator’s demise—that he had contributed millions of dollars in illegal
cash contributions to Reagan’s presidential campaigns in 1980 and 1984. So
far, investigators have not produced the “smoking documents” needed to cor-
roborate these allegations. But given the high-level bribery scandals across the
political spectrum that have recently surfaced in countries like Germany,
France, Japan, and Italy, it is not out of the question that Marcos might have
found takers for a few “foreign bribes” of his own to key US supporters in
both major parties.
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 17
DEBT ELEPHANTS 17
The Bataan nuclear plant was finished in l985, but it has been postponed
for safety and cost reasons ever since, with $80 million of uranium sitting
nearby in storage. It is the largest single-line item in the Philippines’s $50 bil-
lion foreign debt, costing taxpayers more than $170,000 a day in interest—
$1.2 billion in total as of 2003.
The plant also became the subject of a prolonged lawsuit between the
Philippines and Westinghouse.Westinghouse argued successfully that, despite
making the payoffs, it was not guilty of violating the US Foreign Corrupt
Practices Act because corruption in the Philippines had reached the point
where such payoffs were considered “normal business practices.” In October
1995, the hard-pressed Philippine government agreed to a $100 million out-
of-court settlement with Westinghouse that freed the company from any lia-
bility for the plant, allowed it back into the country, and continued the gov-
ernment’s obligation to service the debt. In 1994, President Fidel Ramos
announced plans to convert the Bataan plant to a combined-cycle gas-fired
plant, but that would have cost $600 million, so it was not implemented. As
of 2003 the government was still trying to figure out what to do with the
plant.
Meanwhile, largely because of the dearth of electricity caused by the
Bataan nuclear fiasco, Manila experienced acute electricity shortages in the
early 1990s. But in this new era of privatization, rather than build new plants,
the National Power Corporation (Napacor) decided to rely on the private
sector. Over the next decade, it signed forty-eight contracts with private inde-
pendent power producers (IPPs).Written “under the influence,” these turned
out to be boondoggles for the IPPs and another disaster for the government.
They obligated Napacor to pay the full cost of IPP capacity whether or not
it was actually used. By 2003, these one-sided deals had cost the country more
than $14 billion, and the Philippines had the world’s most costly electricity.
While most of these dubious “power privatization” deals were signed under
President Ramos in 1992–98, the outrages have continued—including a
questionable $470 million hydro project awarded to an obscure Argentine
firm by President Gloria Macagapal-Arroyo, just four days after she took
power in 2001. A comment by Manila’s INS newspaper provided a nice
summary: “The Power Purchase Agreement is our payment for a huge
amount of electricity that we actually do not use. In other words, the PPA is
like a huge vacuum cleaner. It sucks.”28
Another key beneficiary of the Philippines’ IPP program, while it lasted,
was Enron, the now-bankrupt US energy giant. In 1993–94, Enron obtained
$106 million in foreign loans and risk insurance from two government agen-
cies, the Asian Development Bank and the US Overseas Private Investment
Corporation, for two Philippine power plants, and lucrative “take or pay”
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 18
18 BLOOD BANKERS
contracts with Napacor.This was achieved with special help from US ambas-
sador Frank Wisner Jr., who later joined Enron’s Board in October 1997, after
working hard to get these Philippine plants and the $2.9 billion Dabhol
“independent power” plant for Enron in India. One of the Enron contracts
with the Philippines was so one-sided that it caused Napacor’s entire board
to resign in protest when it was signed in 1993.29
• Autopistas Urbanas, a highway that transects Buenos Aires, was built by
Argentina’s military government from 1976 to 1982 at a cost of more than
$1 billion—four times the original bid. About $300 million of this came
from a syndicate led by Libra Bank—a consortium partly owned by Chase,
whose chairman, David Rockefeller, and Chase’s private banking group, had
close ties to the junta. In l978,Argentina hosted the World Cup, and its admi-
rals, who controlled that year’s “World Cup concession,” borrowed $700 mil-
lion to refurbish every soccer stadium in the city. The junta also got US
banks like Chase and Morgan, and even major British banks like Lloyds, to
finance the arms buildup that culminated in the l982 Malvinas War between
Argentina and the UK. During the military’s six-year reign, Argentina’s for-
eign debt increased from $7.8 billion to $43.6 billion.
Argentina also had many wasteful power projects, the crown prince of
which was Yacyreta, a 2,760-megawatt hydro dam built with Paraguay on the
Parana River. Financed by loans from the World Bank and the IDB, the dam
was originally devised in a 1973 agreement between Paraguay’s dictator, Gen-
eral Alfredo Stroessner, and Argentina’s Juan Perón. It was estimated to cost
$1.6 billion and be completed by 1989. As of 2003, it has actually cost $11.5
billion, not including $1.2 billion of electricity that might have been sold had
it been available.The dam is still only sixty percent finished.The electricity it
generates costs more than three times international averages, and the project
needs up to $2 billion to reach the 3,700-megawatt size required to be eco-
nomic.The project is also fighting a swarm of legal actions from eighty thou-
sand displaced locals, environmental activists, and unpaid contractors. In 2001,
Paraguay’s government put out a bid for cheaper power from other sources,
despite the fact that it is a half-owner of Yacyreta. A 1994 study by the World
Commission on Dams estimated that the project had lost at least $6 billion to
outright corruption. Even Argentina’s president Carlos Menem called it a
“monument to corruption.” World Bank president James Wolfensohn con-
ceded that it was “a rather sad case.”
For contractors and vendors, however,Yacyreta was a feeding frenzy.The
prime contractor was the Italian construction giant Impregilo SPa, owned by
the Fiat Group, a twenty-one percent share in Eriday, the ten-company con-
sortium that built the dam. Also involved were Italy’s Ansaldo, Japan’s Mit-
subishi, Hitachi, and Toshiba, GE Canada, Germany’s Siemens/Voith and Lah-
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 19
DEBT ELEPHANTS 19
20 BLOOD BANKERS
like Complejo Cultural Teresa Carreño took ten years to build and cost $500
million, five times the original bid. The unfinished Oliva Lara tunnel, built
under a mountain that caved in, cost even more. In the 1970s, President Car-
los Andres Perez felt so flush with loans and oil that he ordered every public
toilet in Venezuela to hire an attendant. He even used foreign loans to pur-
chase a $40 million high-rise building in downtown Miami. Carlos Andres
Perez’s disastrous terms as Venezuela’s president from 1974 to 1979 and again
from 1989 to 1993, when he was finally removed from office for corruption,
laid the foundations for the political turmoil that continues to this day. It also
helps to explain why the country now has a lower real per capita income than
it did in 1960.32
• Among Mexico’s many white elephants is a $2 billion Canadian-
designed nuclear plant, Laguna Verde, located seventy miles north of Veracruz.
Designed with GE reactors and built with US EXIM bank loans, it took
eleven years to complete. But the real problem with Laguna Verde was not the
delay—since it started operating in 1987, there have been more than sixty
accidents, and it has earned the nickname “Chernobyl on the Gulf ”. There
are also four underutilized ports at Las Truchas, Altamira, Ostion, and Sali-
nacruz that cost $4 billion; an unattractive water fountain on Mexico City’s
Paseo de la Reforma that was built with a $100 million Citibank loan; a
petrochemical complex at Cangrejera that was designed by the British com-
pany ICI and proved too hazardous to use; and the underutilized $2.4 billion
second stage of the La Truchas steel mill.
• Bolivians may have one of the lowest per capita incomes in Latin
America, but one thing they do not lack is the lavish four-lane, 6.2 mile, $140
million highway that connects downtown La Paz to its international airport.
Funded by the IDB, this was one of the world’s most expensive roads per
mile.The Bolivian Air Force also used foreign loans to buy ten C-130 cargo
planes from the US military, more than any other Latin American country. In
the late l980s, these planes made many suspicious, unregistered flights to
Miami.33
• Honduras’s three hundred-megawatt El Cajon Dam is the largest dam
in Central America and one of the tallest in the world at 768 feet, 36 feet
taller than the Hoover Dam. It was built in the early 1980s on the Humuya
River in the north-central part of the country, funded with $800 million from
the World Bank and the IDB.About 4,700 people lost their homes and arable
land on the flat river bottom, the best area to farm. Little compensation was
provided by the government. With land ownership already highly concen-
trated and most campesinos unable to provide legal titles, the dam further
concentrated the ownership of the best land and forced campesinos to clear
surrounding hillsides, which increased erosion and silting. The reservoir has
seldom reached more than half of its designed capacity, except in November
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 21
DEBT ELEPHANTS 21
22 BLOOD BANKERS
DEBT ELEPHANTS 23
24 BLOOD BANKERS
In any case, Río Negro soon became a butcher shop. In July 1980, two
community leaders who traveled to the Chixoy Dam to negotiate with
INDE were mutilated. In late 1981 and 1982, the pace of the brutality quick-
ened. Eyewitnesses later recalled brutal scenes from five massacres in Río
Negro that year. During the first, in March 1982, 70 women and 107 chil-
dren were murdered in cold blood by the army. Jaime, a Guatemalan Indian
male from Río Negro who had been ten years old at the time, recalled the
scene:
I remember one woman, a soldier jumped up and kicked her in the back.
He must have broken her spine, because she tried to get up, but her legs
wouldn’t move.Then he smashed her skull with his rifle. [They] were tying
ropes around the children’s ankles and swinging them, smashing their heads
and bodies into rocks and trees.35
DEBT ELEPHANTS 25
President in January 2000.After three years, his administration had earned the
distinction, as one Guatemalan newspaper put it, of being “one of the most
corrupt in the history of this Central American country; even the Bush
Administration’s Ambassador refused to attend Portillo’s annual speech to
Congress. Rios Montt became president of the National Congress, with
immunity from prosecution. For the time being he rested on his laurels—a
graduate of Fort Benning’s School of the Americas and an ordained minister
in California-based Gospel Outreach’s Guatemala Verbo evangelical Church.
He was also a man whom former US Assistant Secretary of State Thomas
Enders had once praised for hi “effective counter-insurgency,” and Ronald
Reagan had once called “a man of great personal integrity,”“totally dedicated
to democracy,” someone who Amnesty International had given “a bum rap.”
By 2003, he was running for President, arguing successfully before
Guatemala’s stacked Supreme Court that a constitutional provision barring
him from running was a violation of his “human rights.”
So where were the World Bank, the IDB, and the international contrac-
tors during all this? After all, the banks were footing the bill for the dam and
presumably had some influence.According to a recent study by the Woodrow
Wilson School, they had representatives on the ground who “either knew or
had reason to know” about the intimidation used by INDE and the military
to relocate the Mayans.Yet there is no record of any complaints registered by
either institution. Just as the violence was escalating, the IDB advanced the
project another $70 million in November 1981, and the World Bank loaned
it another $45 million in 1985.
In this regard, it may be helpful to recall the legal definition of several
criminal offenses in civilized countries. A key element of “accessory to mur-
der” is to intentionally aid, abet, or counsel murderers, before or after the fact,
even if one is absent when the killing is done. “Involuntary manslaughter” is
the intentional disregard of a duty to provide reasonable care or aid to a vic-
tim, which results in that person’s death.“Negligent homicide” is the neglec-
tion of duty to exercise reasonable care that results in death, even if unin-
tended. As applied at Nuremberg and by the newly created International
Criminal Court that has been ratified by more than ninety countries, includ-
ing all OECD countries except the US, there are also several categories of
“crimes against humanity” that may be relevant here. These include the
crimes of “genocide”—an “act or omission committed with intent to destroy,
in whole or in part, an identifiable group of persons,” and “crimes against
humanity”—“murder, extermination, enslavement, deportation, imprison-
ment, torture, sexual violence, persecution or any other inhumane act or
omission committed against any civilian population.”37
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26 BLOOD BANKERS
Finally in July 1996, after Witness for Peace published a detailed report
on the Rio Negro Massacre that was based on eyewitness interviews, the
World Bank conducted its own investigation. It found that not only had the
Mayans at Río Negro never been adequately consulted, resettled, or com-
pensated for the taking of their land, but that more than half of them had
been slaughtered. However, the World Bank referred all requests for additional
compensation to INDE, which had gone broke by then and was privatized in
1998, and to a local Fund for National Development. In a casual remark over
a conference lunch with the IMF’s acting managing director Stanley Fischer
and American University’s president Ben Ladner, the World Bank’s president
Wolfensohn revealed by accident—when he failed to notice that his micro-
phone was on—his own skepticism about the Río Negro victims’ claims:
Wolfensohn: It’s all ad hominem, it’s all, ah, they’ve brought in an indigenous
person who was displaced in 1975 and whose family has been ruined, and
they’ll then blame us for the problems of Guatemala.And we’ll say that there
was a civil war for thirty-two years and . . . this probably had nothing to do
with the project. . . . And now there’s another Chixoy Indian coming, say-
ing well, we appreciated what you did, but now we want reparations and
damages. And so they’ve got an Indian here who’s very keen to do it. . . .
These indigenous people, I’m not suggesting they didn’t have problems, but
they’re also very smart. So they come up, and they think,“It’s a pretty good
way to make a few bucks.”
Fischer:“And you can’t say anything about the victims, you know, it’s . . .”
Ladner: “No, it’s off limits.”38
DEBT ELEPHANTS 27
Then copper prices crashed, and Zaire was stuck with numerous debt ele-
phants.
One of these was the twenty-story, French-designed Kinshasa World Trade
Center. Regrettably, it was designed without windows that could open and an
air-conditioning system too weak to manage the Congo’s intense heat. The
largest debt elephant was the $1.1 billion Inga Shaba power project.This called
for stringing the world’s longest transmission line across 1,700 miles of dense
jungle from the Inga Dam at the mouth of the Congo to Shaba province,
where the country’s copper reserves were. Financed by Citibank and several
other banks with US EXIM Bank guarantees, designed by Morris-Knudsen,
supplied by GE and ASEA, constructed by Sadelmi, and “produced” with the
help of US. CIA station chief Lawrence Devlin, General Thomas Hayes, and
US ambassadors Sheldon Vance and Deane Hinton, the project’s original cost
estimate was $275 million. But it was riddled with corruption, and its princi-
pal “beneficiaries” were the president-for-life’s huge extended family. Com-
pleted in 1983 at a cost of more than $1.2 billion, it has never used more than
a fifth of its capacity.
By 1997, when Mobutu was finally tossed out, his personal wealth was
estimated at more than $4 billion. He had helped himself and his family to
three palaces in Zaire, luxury mansions in Switzerland, Morocco, South Africa,
France, Belgium, Spain, and Portugal, a fleet of jumbo jets, one of the world’s
largest supermarkets, five hundred British double-decker buses, and his own
steel mill.The wine collection at his castle in Portugal alone was valued at $2.3
million.40
• Following the Brasilia model, Nigeria’s new capital, Abuja, was planted
in the center of the country—in the middle of nowhere—by General Mur-
tala Muhammed in 1976. By l983, there was just one hotel, an airport, and a
sewage system, all costing $4 billion. The city was officially opened in 1991,
but construction continues to this day, after more than $30 billion—includ-
ing $500 million for a sports stadium alone. Nigerians tell a story in which
God is asked whether the Nigerians will ever see Abuja’s benefits. God replies,
“Not in my lifetime!” At Ajaokuta, on the River Niger, a $400 million steel
plant also sits idle, a hapless combination of Russian technology, French loans,
and multinational graft. As of 2003, another $560 million was needed to fin-
ish this steel mill and another one, Delta Steel.The World Bank recommended
against putting another penny into both these projects. Although Nigeria is
one of the world’s top ten oil and gas producers, it has to import all its iron
ore from Brazil.Today, despite its ample oil wealth, Nigeria boasts the largest
foreign debt in Africa—$34 billion.41
In 1985, Kenya invited bids for the 155-meter-high Turkwell Gorge Dam
in the Elgeyo-Marakwet district of northern Kenya. However, according to a
report by courageous Kenyan journalist, Edward Abuor, who later had to flee
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28 BLOOD BANKERS
the country for his own safety, the companies that won the initial bid refused
to pay a $5 million bribe.The charge was sensitive, because Energy Minister
Nicolas Biwott was also a member of the Elgeyo-Marakwet Kalenjin tribe
and a very close advisor and business partner of fellow-Kalenjin President
Daniel Arap Moi, the venal autocrat who ruled the country from 1978 until
January 2003. Biwott cancelled the contract and re-let it without a competi-
tive tender.This time, it went to a consortium led by France’s Spie Batignoles,
Sogreah, and GEC Alsthom; Norconsult; and the UK’s Knight Piesold, which
served as overall design consultant for the dam from 1986 to 1993.The dam’s
$300 million price tag was financed with loans from a consortium of French
banks led by Banque de l’Union Europeenne, with additional financing from
COFACE, the French export credit agency and the UK’s ECGD.
On January 24, 1986, Kenya’s finance minister George Saitoti signed a
new contract with this consortium. In March 1986, Achim Kratz, the EC’s
commissioner to Kenya, wrote a memo about the Turkwell Gorge Dam that
was later leaked to The Financial Times. It identified several problems with the
project:
[The contract price was] more than double the amount Kenya’s government
would have had to pay for the project based on an international competi-
tive tender. . . . The Kenyan government officials who are involved in the
project are fully aware of the disadvantages of the French deal . . . but they
nevertheless accepted it because of high personal advantages.While Kenyan
politicians and top civil servants form an alliance with foreigners to take bil-
lions in hard currency abroad while knowing that the country is dying for
lack of foreign exchange, for the import of medicine and other essentials,
that is an outright war against one’s own country and people. . . .42
When these reports appeared, the Kenyan press was even more blunt: It pro-
claimed the dam “a stinking scandal” and “the whitest of white elephants.”
Partly as a result of this scandal, foreign aid to Kenya’s entire energy sector was
frozen from 1989 to 1996. Indeed, from 1997 to July 2000, and again from
December 2000 to 2003, more than $1 billion in aid from the World Bank,
the IMF, and other Western donors was suspended because of concerns about
“official corruption” and Kenya’s failure to pass antigraft legislation.43 In
2002, Kenya ranked 96 out of 102 countries on Transparency International’s
annual corruption rankings.
Meanwhile, in February 1990, Minister Biwott was briefly detained, then
released, in connection with an investigation of the murder of Kenya’s foreign
minister Robert Ouko, who had disappeared from his farm soon after return-
ing from a quick “private visit” to the US with Moi and Biwott on February
2–4, 1990. Ouko’s burned, mutilated body was found close to his farm two
weeks later.The crime was never solved. But in 1997, Smith Hempstone, US
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DEBT ELEPHANTS 29
ambassador to Kenya from 1989 to 1993 and a close friend of George H.W.
Bush, published a memoir in which he speculated, based on “statements of
those closely associated with the Ouko case,” that “the most likely scenario”
was that Moi had lost his temper at Ouko, and had personally beaten him into
unconsciousness at the State House.According to Hempstone’s scenario, Moi
had him tortured until he was “a bloody mess.” Then Biwott—“the most
feared and hated man in Kenya, who was alleged to collect a shilling on every
gallon of petroleum imported into Kenya, and to have made tens of millions
of dollars in kickbacks on the Turkwell Gorge dam”—allegedly “shot [Ouko]
twice in the head.” The motive? Hempstone wasn’t sure. But he recalled
receiving a photo from a former chief of protocol for the State Department
in 1991, showing a smiling President Bush shaking hands with Minister Ouko
on the White House steps. Moi, in contrast, had only been granted a meeting
with an assistant secretary of state on that trip to Washington, DC.44
The FT had a slightly different angle: It reported that Ouko had “clashed
with Biwott during a trip to the US over foreign accounts Biwott and other
government ministers held in other countries.”45 In 1991, John Troon, a
detective from Scotland Yard who investigated the case, told a Kenyan judicial
commission Mr. Biwott was a prime suspect.46 In July 2001, Moi and Biwott
sued Hempstone for libel in Kenya’s High Court, alleging that the charges
brought their reputations “public odium, scandal and contempt.”47
Biwott also had run-ins with private bankers at Citibank and in Switzer-
land. In June 1991,Terry Davidson, managing director of Citibank’s Nairobi
branch, was warned by Biwott’s employee to “be prepared for strange car acci-
dents . . .” after he tried to collect on $14 million in loans to Biwott’s com-
panies. The loans were reportedly secured by $11.2 million in loans against
Biwott’s Swiss accounts. The New York Times reported that Biwott, one of
Kenya’s richest men, “had amassed large interests in construction, petroleum
distribution, aviation, and property,” and that he owned “hundreds of millions
of dollars, chiefly in offshore holdings.”48
Biwott resigned from the energy ministry post after his arrest, but he
remained in parliament. After Moi was “reelected” in 1997, he continued to
serve in the cabinet. Saitoti, a former math professor, served as finance minis-
ter until 1993, and on and off as vice president until August 2002. In May
2000, both Biwott and Saitoti were named by a Kenyan parliamentary anti-
corruption committee on a “list of shame,” but were later removed at the
request of Moi’s party. In December 2002, Moi’s reign of power came to an
end, when the opposition party’s presidential candidate Mwai Kibaki defeated
Moi’s designated successor by sixty-three percent to thirty percent.
Meanwhile, the Turkwell dam itself was another failure. It was completed
by February 1991, but the reservoir was only one quarter full by the time Moi
officially opened the hydro plant in October 1993. Throughout the 1990s,
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30 BLOOD BANKERS
Turkwell consistently operated below its designed capacity, and the country
experienced recurrent power shortages. In 1999–2000, when Kenya was
struck by one of its worst droughts ever, hydro-dependent Nairobi had to
institute daily power blackouts. For the 3.3 million rural Kenyans facing star-
vation at that point, power was not their primary concern. But after twenty-
four years of brutality and kleptocracy, they were eager to survive just to have
a chance to vote the mijizi (thieves) out of office.49
• Next to China’s gargantuan Three Gorges Dam, Lesotho’s Highland
Water Project (LHWP) is the world’s second largest water transfer project and
Africa’s largest dam project ever. In the finest traditions of hubristic engi-
neering, the design called for a thirty-year effort to build five big dams and a
hydro plant in Lesotho’s Maluti Mountains, eventually diverting nearly half of
the water—two billion cubic meters a year—from the Orange River (known
in Lesotho as the “Senqunyane River” basin) through 125 miles of tunnels to
the Vaal Dam near Johannesburg.The basic concept, which dates back to the
1930s, was simple. Lesotho, an otherwise tiny, poor, landlocked, mountainous
kingdom, is known as “The Kingdom in the Sky,” the only country in the
world whose entire territory is higher than one thousand meters. It also is
entirely surrounded by, and dependent upon, its wealthy neighbor, South
Africa. Most of its 2.2 million people work either as subsistence farmers or as
migrants in South Africa, which provides jobs for half of Lesotho’s labor force.
In addition to its surplus labor, one of Lesotho’s few natural resources is the
abundant rainfall that its mountains receive each summer. Johannesburg’s
mines and other industries, on the other hand, account for sixty percent of
South Africa’s economy, and need a steady supply of water and energy, as well
as cheap labor.
In South Africa’s view, all this provided the basis for a win-win deal.
LHWP was designed by South African-trained engineers in the 1970s and
jointly approved by the two countries in 1986. Until 1994, South Africa was
still an apartheid state, ruled by whites, who comprised just fourteen percent
of its population. Lesotho was ruled by a military regime that South Africa
had installed only a few months before the LHWP agreement.
These antidemocratic roots did not worry the global development indus-
try very much at the time. Indeed, as we’ve seen, this industry and its finan-
cial supporters actually seem to thrive in situations where popular concerns
like resettlement, land ownership, the pricing of natural resources and elec-
tricity, erosion, and environmental matters are subordinated to the priorities
of the ruling elite.This may be one key reason why there is a strong negative
correlation between “big projects” and democratic development.
In any case, those who structured LHWP’s finances also did not worry
very much about the fact that they were violating international sanctions
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 31
DEBT ELEPHANTS 31
32 BLOOD BANKERS
order.”The Johannesburg Star later reported that protecting the dam had been
one of the invasion’s primary concerns. There have also been more than the
usual litany of environmental, distributional, and social problems associated
with LHWP—with many complaints from dam critics about the displace-
ment of twenty-four thousand people, inadequate compensation for resettle-
ment, and increased erosion.50
Most interestingly, LHWP has made history in the field of penalties for
global corruption.The US has had the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act (FCPA)
on its books since 1977.This statute has provided US officials with more than
one opportunity to lecture their European and Asian counterparts on the
importance of taking a strong stand against Third World corruption. But actu-
ally enforcing this statute has never been a priority for any administration.
There have only been thirty-four US criminal prosecutions under the FCPA
in thirty-six years, the median fine levied on twenty-eight convicted corpo-
rations has been a mere $50,000, and only three out of twelve convicted busi-
ness bribers ever did jail time—a total of thirty-four months for all three. So
far there has only been one sizeable fine: $21.8 million levied on Lockheed
in 1994, for paying bribes to win Egyptian defense contracts.
Nevertheless, in the late 1990s, responding to incessant American whin-
ing that global competitiveness was suffering because of this statute, thirty
OECD countries adopted a new treaty that increased penalties for First World
companies that bribe foreign officials. Organizations like Transparency Inter-
national, backed by corporate and government supporters, started to publish
a “corruption index,” an annual ranking that claimed to identify the world’s
“most corrupt” countries—all of which turned out to be developing coun-
tries. The World Bank also adopted new guidelines on corruption that were
supposed to crack down on contractor/vendor bribery. At the Annual World
Bank Meetings in Washington, DC on October 1996, President James
Wolfensohn declared: “The Bank Group will not tolerate corruption in the
programs that we support, and we are taking steps to ensure that our own
activities continue to meet the highest standards of probity.”51 Despite these
new laws, indices, and declarations, until the LHWP graft case exploded in
1999, there had been very little actual enforcement of such rules against
bribery, especially against the leading members of the global development
industry. This is partly because it is often hard to follow the money trail
through the global haven thicket. However, even tiny Lesotho was able to
break through Swiss and Panamanian banking secrecy in less than two years
and make a winning case against some of the world’s largest contractors.
The more important obstacle is that, when push comes to shove, many
First World countries and multilateral donors have been reluctant to enforce
such rules against bribers, as opposed to “corrupt” local officials. They are
concerned not only with alienating influential political supporters, but also
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 33
DEBT ELEPHANTS 33
with disrupting the progress of particularly big projects. They are also con-
cerned that if they really looked hard at what has been going on around
them, the revelations might be hard to handle. For example, the very first
global auditor that Wolfensohn hired in 1996 as part of his new “spot audit”
effort to get tough on corruption—Switzerland’s Société Générale de Sur-
veillance (SGS)—was revealed just a year later to have paid more than $9
million in bribes by way of British Virgin Island companies, Swiss lawyers,
and UBS bank accounts to Pakistan’s former president Benazir Bhutto and
her husband Ali Zardari, as well as to other intermediaries, in order to win
a lucrative Pakistani government contract for customs inspection services in
1994.
In July 1999, Lesotho charged the former CEO of the Lesotho Highlands
Project, Masupha Sole, with receiving more than $2.5 million in bribes by
way of Swiss accounts, from all the key contractors involved in LHWP’s first
three dams. With the help of Durban lawyers, Lesotho managed to track
down precisely who had paid the bribes and where the money went. The
astonishing indictment listed the contractors and the amounts they had paid:
• Zublin: $444, 466, plus its share of $57,269 paid by LHPC and LHPC-
Chantiers’s $63,959
• Impregilo: $250,000, plus its share of $733,404 paid by the HWV con-
sortium
• Acres International: $260,000
• Spie Batignolles: $119,393, plus its share of LHPC’s $57,269 and
LHPC-Chantiers’s $63,959
• Dumez: $82,422
• ABB: $40, 410
• Sogreah: $13,578, plus its share of LHPC-Chantiers’s $63,959
• Lahmeyer/RWE: $8,674
• Diwi: $2,439
• Balfour Beatty: its share of LHPC’s $57,269 and LHPC-Chantiers’s
$63,959
• LTA: its share of LHPC’s $57,269 and LHPC-Chantiers’s $63,959
• Hochtief: its share of $733,404 paid by the HWV consortium
• Bouygues: its share of $733,404 paid by the HWV consortium
• Keir International: its share of $733,404 paid by the HWV consortium
• Stirling International: its share of $733,404 paid by the HWV consor-
tium
• Concor: its share of $733,404 paid by the HWV consortium
• Sir Alex Gibb: its share of the LHPC-Chantiers’s $63,959
• Coyne & Bellier: its share of the LHPC-Chantiers’s $63,959
• Knight Piesold: its share of the LHPC-Chantiers’s $63,959
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34 BLOOD BANKERS
DEBT ELEPHANTS 35
36 BLOOD BANKERS
engineering firm that we met in Lesotho, did a $14 million “feasibility stud-
ies” for the dam in 1985–88, a study that was widely panned by other inde-
pendent experts.To its credit, the US government has so far resisted the temp-
tation to provide any financial support for the dam, although some US
contractors and equipment vendors are involved. In the words of one US
Bureau of Reclamation spokesperson:“Large-scale, water retention dam proj-
ects are not environmentally or economically feasible. We wouldn’t support
such a project in the US, so it would be incongruous for us to support such
a project in another country.”57 Would that such wisdom were more gener-
ally applied.
All told, about forty-five thousand large dams were built around the
world in the twentieth century, at a total cost of more than $2 trillion and a
“displacement” total of 40–50 million people. The World Commission on
Dams, established by the World Bank and the World Conservation Union in
1998 to examine this one category of development spending, estimates that
worldwide construction peaked in the 1970s, at 5,400 new large dams per
year, and is now less than 2,000 per year. However, countries are still spend-
ing at least $32–46 billion a year on new dams.58 There are also thousands of
other infrastructure projects: power plants, pipelines, roads, airports, ports, rail
systems, irrigation projects, flood control, and sanitation systems. All told, in
the last decade, developing countries have devoted more than a trillion dol-
lars to such new infrastructure projects. Clearly such investments are vital to
their futures, and it is crucial that they be well managed.
Unfortunately, most of this spending to date was funded by foreign loans
that were not, in fact, well managed.The World Bank alone has provided more
than $90 billion to finance 620 dam-only projects and 910 other projects that
included dams in more than ninety-two countries.The Bank has also spent at
least three times this amount on other infrastructure projects.59 In addition,
other multilateral lenders like the ADB and the IDB, and leading First World
export credit agencies (“ECAs”) like the US EXIM Bank, the UK’s ECGD,
and Germany’s HERMES, have provided hundreds of billions for infrastruc-
ture.
In this chapter, a prima facie case has been made for the contention that
much of this First World-financed big project spending has involved signifi-
cant waste and corruption, as well as significant environmental and social
damage. In theory, perhaps, even great big dams might be justified, assuming
we really take into account their substantial social and environmental side
effects. However, the proof is in the pudding.The long-term track record of
large, foreign debt-financed dams and other big projects has been nothing
short of a global disgrace. This conclusion is supported by many other recent
studies, with larger samples. For example, the WCD’s study of eighty-one
Chapter 01 9/18/03 3:41 PM Page 37
DEBT ELEPHANTS 37
large dams found that seventy-three percent exceeded their budgets, and
thirty percent overshot by more than fifty percent. And that was only the
financial cost. If we also take into account the displaced and undercompen-
sated people, the lost species, damaged aquifers and forests, methane pollution,
increased corruption, and the high opportunity costs of the resulting exces-
sive debts, these “cost overruns” would be much higher.There are several sys-
temic pathologies that help to explain this recurrent pattern.
38 BLOOD BANKERS
DEBT ELEPHANTS 39
30
% of All
25
Dams 20
15
10
5
0
0-49 50-79 80-99 100- 120- 150- >200
119 149 199
% Project Cost Overrun
Source: WCD data (2002), 81 dam samples; JSH analysis © JSH 2003
Chart 1.2–Average Cost Overruns
saw in Lesotho, there are often so many different vendors involved that
opportunities for finger pointing abound. Meanwhile, developing countries
get stuck with the debts, whether or not projects pay off, while foreign
lenders like export credit agencies score points with their supporters—big
exporters, banks, and their political clients—just for generating exports,
whether or not projects make good use of them.
Therefore, while any given project mishap may be due to local fortuities,
design errors, malfeasance, or incompetence, the overall global patterns
revealed here are too striking to ignore. Everywhere one sees the same kinds
of misbehavior and the same global players. This supports the notion that
what we really have is a deeply entrenched, transnational system of interests
and influence that profits from committing the same mistakes.
This conclusion is also consistent with the recent trends in Third World
project finance. In the last decade, an increasing share of infrastructure invest-
ment has been financed by a combination of private sector participation and
loans from export credit agencies. In the 1990s, for example, more than $680
billion of Third World infrastructure had some degree of private sector
involvement—a sharp increase from the 1980s.61
At the same time, especially since 1995, support for monster “hard asset”
loans at the World Bank and other multilateral lenders has slowed dramati-
cally, and they have shifted more than two-thirds of their portfolios to soft
assets like public administration, education, and health. This is partly due
to all the flack multilaterals have taken for their numerous failed big dam
projects.
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40 BLOOD BANKERS
DEBT ELEPHANTS 41
ary was Texas-based oil services company Halliburton, whose CEO from 1995
to 2000 was future Vice President Richard Cheney. Halliburton had managed
to obtain about $72 million in EXIM financing during the early 1990s, but
with the help of Cheney’s Washington, DC connections, this really exploded
to more than $890 million in guaranteed loans and credits during his tenure
as CEO. Some of these loans financed Halliburton service exports to rather
strange places. For example, in the late 1990s, with the help of Clinton’s Sec-
retary of State Albright, Halliburton received $87 million in EXIM credits and
$90 million in loan guarantees to support its oil service operations in Angola,
whose pseudo-leftist MPLA government was up to its eyeballs in arms traffic,
repression, and the diversion of billions in oil revenues to offshore accounts. In
2000 alone, Cheney’s last year as CEO before he moved to Washington, DC,
the company received $120 million in EXIM export credits. In May 2002, the
SEC announced that Halliburton was under investigation for misstating its
costs on overseas construction jobs financed by these credits.63
There have been many other recent EXIM bank financings that are ques-
tionable on environmental, social, and economic grounds. As we saw in the
Philippines and Brazil, the US EXIM bank had a long history of financing
doubtful nuclear projects in developing countries. And it has also recently
financed many other questionable power plants. For example, its 1997 $374
million loan to the 2,100-megawatt Yanching coal-fired plant in Shanxi
province, China, will fund a plant that will produce more than 14.1 million
tons of greenhouse gases each year. It was also involved in funding the dubi-
ous Paiton power complex in Indonesia.64
Given EXIM’s miserable track record on such projects, its marginal impact
on overall American exports (<1.5%), the fact that most of its benefits have
gone to a handful of giant banks and corporations, and to dictatorial regimes
like China and Suharto’s Indonesia, not to mention its lack of attention to
environmental, social, and anticorruption issues, many free-market conserva-
tives expected President George W. Bush to sharply downsize, or even elimi-
nate, the US EXIM Bank when he took office in 2001. Indeed, his very first
budget proposal to Congress called for a twenty-five percent reduction in
EXIM’s funding, with support from the Cato Institute and other conservatives,
who argued that the Bank was an outrageous example of “corporate welfare,”
and that its loans to “Communist” China and Angola were especially offensive.
Apparently this captured the attention of the Fortune 500 lobbyists, as
well as Vice President Cheney. In June 2002, Bush signed a new four-year
authorization for the EXIM Bank that raised its authorized lending level from
$80 billion to $100 billion. In 2002, EXIM authorized $10.1 billion in new
loans, credit guarantees and risk insurance, nearly as much as the World Bank’s
entire IBRD “hard money” loan budget.65
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42 BLOOD BANKERS
Overall, therefore, the World Bank, other multilateral lenders, and the
IMF certainly have more work to do to fight corruption, pay closer attention
to environmental and social concerns, and be more open and democratic
about their procedures. But compared with ECAs like the US EXIM Bank,
these multilateral institutions are paragons of virtue. It is very important for
development critics to avoid fighting the last war. Many ECAs, while officially
“public” institutions, are basically just captive subsidiaries of the global anti-
development industry. Indeed, some, like the UK’s EGCD, have recently been
privatized, and are no longer subject to even minimal independent citizen
review. The credits they provide often have little to do with Third World
development and everything to do with paying back corporate interests for
the contributions, careers, and other benefits they have bestowed on First
World political leaders.
Thus it is not easy to separate the continuing problems of debt, corrup-
tion, and democracy in the Third World from the complementary problems
of debt, corruption, and democracy in the First World.
Together, these agencies and their political supporters are helping to
write the next chapter in the ongoing story of First and Third World crony
capitalism, by financing a whole new generation of Third World debt ele-
phants that, technically speaking, are “private” projects that don’t require any
“country loans” at all.
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 43
C HA PT E R T W O
Ali Baba has departed but the Forty Thieves still remain. . . .
—Jaime Cardinal Sin of Manilla,
after Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos fled the country
It was very easy to put in money there. But it was impossible to take it
out….
—Imelda Marcos, on her relationship with Swiss banks,
London Channel Four documentary, 1994
Marcos has lifted everything else around here—he might as well lift martial
law.
—Marcos opponent, 1981
I turned off one of Manila’s sweltering streets and found myself in a private trop-
ical forest compound the size of a whole city block.At the end of a long row of banyan
trees was a huge, stylish, glass and mahogany house that was barely visible from the
road outside. I welcomed the respite from the claustrophobic traffic, but the two machine
gun-toting guards made me nervous—unlike the rest of the Philippines’s troubled econ-
omy, the market for security guards was booming. My host “Keo,” a member of one of
Manila’s first families, had retained a whole private army to protect his plantations and
homes from the growing number of rebels, bandits, and desperately poor people.
Keo’s family came to Manila from Spain in the eighteenth century and prospered
on the basis of propitious investments in land, sugar, and lumber. For generations, his
family had watched corrupt officials come and go. As Keo says, corruption was the
Philippines’s “national sport” long before Ferdinand E. Marcos declared martial law in
l972.
But Marcos, a Philippine-trained lawyer with a dubious war record, was a virtual
Leonardo when it came to the mechanical engineering of corruption. He erected a colos-
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44 BLOOD BANKERS
sal pyramid of thievery that gave him a piece of almost everything the government
touched, from arms purchases and import quotas to power plants and dams, the special
taxes levied on thousands of coconut farmers, the repatriated earnings of Filipino maids,
and even student loans. One US AID officer I interviewed estimated that in 1985,
the regime’s last year, his staff spent seventy percent of its time just trying to prevent
Ferdinand and his cronies from ripping their programs off.1 Even the oldest landed fam-
ilies, which had generally disdained the upstart lawyer and his beauty queen wife, had
to cut deals in order to survive. By the end of his twenty-one-year reign in February
1986, Marcos had become so expensive that very few members of the Philippines’ elite
beyond his closest cronies were sorry to see him go.
This is not to say that the Philippines’s elite eagerly embraced popular demands
for land reform, social spending, or debt repudiation, or that they necessarily even sup-
ported Corazon Aquino’s moderate Yellow Revolution. On the contrary, in the decades
after Marcos’s demise, many have come to feel a kind of strange nostalgia for his strong-
armed rule. In 2003, the question quietly spoken in many of Manila’s best neighbor-
hoods is, “Where’s young Ferdinand, now that we really need him?”
To survive in these conditions, my host, an expert on rice farming, also became a
self-taught expert on personal security systems, small arms, and influence peddling. Back
in the good old days, Imelda had threatened to build a highway through Keo’s private
forest, and “something had to be done” to prevent it.There have also been a few more
hungry bureaucratic mouths to feed since then—Marcos’s departure hardly ended cor-
ruption in the Philippines, or the global private banking system that supports it. But
Keo’s expertise has its uses: I’ve asked him to help me through the overgrown,
unmarked backwaters of the Philippines’s underground economy, and solve a few puz-
zles. . . .
THE FESTIVAL
As part of her effort to make Manila a cultural capital, Imelda Marcos
sponsored the Philippines’s first International Film Festival in 1981.This was
just one of her many odd, extravagant projects, which included the Lung
Center, the Heart Center, the Culture Complex, the International Conven-
tion Center, a fish farm, a floating casino, and fourteen new first-class hotels
that were built especially for the World Bank’s 1976 Annual Meetings. The
Film Center was even more ambitious than the projects that preceded it.
Imelda Marcos wanted it to become a venue for the first “Asian Cannes,” a
film event that would attract luminaries from all over the world to her home-
town each year. She hired Henry C. Rogers, a leading Los Angeles agent, to
promote its twelve-day first edition, and she and her eldest daughter Imee
sent out more than four thousand invitations.
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 45
With only six months to go, Imelda suddenly decided to hold the event
in a striking new auditorium—an eight-story, $21.3 million replica of the
Parthenon, complete with marble porticoes and statues, constructed next to
the ocean on land that had been reclaimed from Manila Bay. Unfortunately,
Imelda’s ambitious design and the short timetable strained Philippine con-
struction skills to the breaking point. Huge blocks of marble had to be
imported from Italy and shaped by laborers who had little experience work-
ing with marble. In November 1981, with just two months to go, the project
was way behind schedule, and the eight thousand construction workers were
sweating night and day to catch up.
Suddenly there was a terrible accident—two floors of the building col-
lapsed, burying two dozen workers under tons of rubble. Church and union
leaders appealed to Imelda Marcos to halt work, so their bodies could be
recovered. But she insisted on pressing ahead. Her project managers simply
ordered the bodies to be covered over with cement.
On January 18, l982, Imelda Marcos’s new Manila Film Center was fin-
ished just in time.The jack hammers were still pounding and there was dust
in the air as President Marcos gave the dedication speech.That evening, more
than 1,600 members of the Philippines’s elite and 300 foreign dignitaries
jammed into the new hall, dressed to the “nines” in black ties and evening
gowns. Imelda Marcos held center stage in a stunning white terno with a
two-foot long diamond necklace, giant diamond teardrop earrings, and three
diamond bracelets. She was surrounded by all her favorite celebrities—
including George Hamilton, Peter Ustinov, Jeremy Irons, Pia Zadora, Michael
York, Priscilla Presley, Charlotte Ford, Adnan Khashoggi, Jack Valenti, and
Doris Buchanan Duke, the US tobacco heiress.They dined on cows that had
been roasted on open spits and bottles of Dom Perignon. Then there was a
spectacular fireworks festival, which featured a medieval pageant and a parade
of beauty queens, native dancers, and religious floats with bejeweled figures
of the Madonna and the Baby Jesus. Finally, they turned to the films—with
Henry C. Rogers’s help, and plenty of seed money, Imelda Marcos had man-
aged to attract 179 new movies from thirty-nine countries, including first-
rank entries like Body Heat and Gallipoli.
What no one had quite planned for, however, was that this particular
evening was unusually warm and humid.And, of course, cement is porous. So
Imelda Marcos’s great embarrassment and the dismay of her guests, the open-
ing was also attended by what several guests later recalled as an “enormous
cloud” of black flies. All evening long they swarmed about the very center of
the hall, close to the place where the workers’ bodies had been interred two
months earlier.
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 46
46 BLOOD BANKERS
shredders in their last few weeks before fleeing to Hawaii, the opposition still
found abandoned records that identifed seventeen Liechtenstein foundations
and sixty Swiss and Hong Kong bank accounts—including twenty-six at
Credit Suisse, eleven at Standard Chartered, nineteen at Swiss Bank Corp, six
at Paribas, two at Bankers Trust, three at Bank Hoffman, and one each at Lom-
bard-Odier and Edmond Safra’s Trade Development Bank. US Customs had
also seized other papers when Marcos arrived in Honolulu, although many of
these are still being withheld on “national security” grounds to this day.4
Unfortunately, there were no current bank statements for any of the iden-
tified accounts.To a haven expert, there were also glaring omissions—like the
absence of even one single account at UBS, Switzerland’s largest bank; at any
of the “elite private” Swiss banks, other than Lombard Odier; at HSBC, Hong
Kong’s largest bank; or at any leading US banks, other than Bankers Trust. It
also appeared that there were no Swiss “Form B” appointments, which had
been commonly used until 1992 by the clients of Swiss banks who had really
dirty money to hide.5
However, the Malacanang records did at least give Aquino’s PCGG a run-
ning start. Moving at what would later seem like lightning speed, in April
1986, the PCGG filed a formal request for mutual assistance with the Swiss
Federal Office, retained its own lawyers in Geneva, Zurich, and Lugano, and
assembled a hundred-page criminal brief against Marcos that detailed all the
identified foundations and accounts.6 Based in part on this request, Swiss
authorities agreed to escrow $356 million in nine of the sixty identified
accounts owned by five of the seventeen identified Marcos-controlled foun-
dations. According to the inscrutable Swiss, only these nine accounts, which
were all at Credit Suisse and SBC, held any money—all of the other accounts
and foundations noted in the PCGG brief were either defunct or empty. Fur-
thermore, the Swiss were also unable to locate any other Marcos accounts or
trusts whatsoever.And Credit Suisse and SBC would continue to earn fees for
managing the escrowed money, pending a Philippines trial to determine the
rightful owners of the funds.
This was a little disappointing. However, on the whole, the Aquino gov-
ernment was satisfied with its early progress on the treasure trail. By the end
of 1986, the PCGG had secured the Swiss asset freeze, commenced more than
thirty-five lawsuits to recover other properties, and sequestered Marcos’s
holding in several large Philippines companies, including the major brewery
San Miguel and the long-distance telephone company PLDT. The first
PCGG chairman, Senator Jovita Salonga, was optimistic that billions of dol-
lars in Marcos loot would soon be returned—perhaps even soon enough to
help reduce the country’s $30 billion foreign debt.
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48 BLOOD BANKERS
Seventeen years and eight more PCGG chairpersons later, however, this
treasure hunt, like most other such postdictatorship quests, has turned out to
be quixotic.The PCCG did manage to locate another $867 million in gold
and cash in six Hong Kong banks, plus homes in London, Rome, and
Geneva, and $200 million worth of property in Hawaii, New York, New Jer-
sey,Texas, Mississippi, Nevada, and California.There was also Charlie Chap-
lin’s mansion in Beverly Hills, which George Hamilton bought in l981 for
$1.5 million, refinanced with a $4 million Imelda Marcos loan in l983, and
sold for $6.5 million to Imelda Marcos’s frontman Adman Khashoggi in l986;
the California Overseas Bank, a $30 million bank in Beverly Hills; three
condos in San Francisco; an estate in Honolulu, a thirteen-acre farm in
Princeton; the $6 million (now $30 million) “Lindenmere” estate on Long
Island, three suites in the Olympic Towers, a six-story townhouse and four
skyscrapers in Manhattan; and Houston’s “Galleria,” which Marcos had
developed with help from the law firm of Robert Strauss, Jimmy Carter’s
campaign manager. Investigators also found another $200 million in real
estate, jewelry, art, antiques and securities in the Philippines.
Unfortunately, the ownership of most of these assets is still being hotly
contested.7 Even the original $356 million that was frozen by the Swiss in
1986—which is now worth $678 million, including interest—was not sur-
rendered to Philippine government control until July 2003, when the Philip-
pine Supreme Court finally ruled that these funds must have been “ill-got-
ten.” Another hundred million that may belong to other Marcos cronies has
also been frozen, but this will also take years to recover. The Zurich DA’s
office recently even unblocked some of these crony assets.8 Most of the law
suits filed in 1986 to recover other assets are still pending. Overall, it turns out
that if the loot is large enough, leading havens like Switzerland, Liechenstein,
and the US as well as the court systems in developing countries, are much
more scrupulous about returning stolen property than about receiving, pro-
tecting, and concealing it in the first place.9
Meanwhile, the PCGG’s asset recovery efforts have consumed vast
resources, time, and attention.They may have inspired as much corruption as
they have deterred, by stimulating some of the investigators and their politi-
cal bosses to seek private deals with the Marcos clan, and to tout bogus claims
of “found” assets.
The case has also provided a steady income stream for PCGG bureau-
crats, high-priced attorneys, and innumerable Marcos minions—like the
Manila law firm of Senator Juan Ponce Enrile, Marcos’s former defense sec-
retary; Bruno de Preux, former president of the Geneva Bar Association, who
allegedly placed up to $1.3 billion in Marcos assets in accounts under his son’s
name in the early 1990s; the numerous US attorneys for the Marcos family,
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 49
including Gerry Spence and James Linn; New York attorneys Sullivan &
Cromwell, which represent UBS; the Zurich office of KPMG, the global
accounting firm, which was recently accused of transferring $400 million of
Marcos’s money to an obscure Credit Suisse subsidiary in Liechtenstein on
the very eve of the Swiss asset freeze; the uncle of Liechtenstein’s constitu-
tional monarch Prince Hans-Adam II, Prince Constantin, who was reportedly
rewarded for turning a blind eye to these midnight shenanigans by the
KPMG; and the prolific Liechstenstein attorney “Professor Dr. Dr.” Herbert
Batliner, whose other distinguished dry-cleaning clients have reportedly
included Colombian and Ecudorian drug dealers, Saudi Arabia’s King Fahd,
Marc Rich, Zaire’s Mobutu, former President Habibie of Indonesia, Brazilian
soccer officials, former German President Helmut Kohl, and selected mem-
bers of the Russian mafia.10
As of 2003, less than $2 billion in Marcos and crony-owned assets had
been positively identified by the PCGG, far below its expectations seventeen
years earlier. Less than half of this has actually been transferred to the Philip-
pine government, and none of it has been paid to Marcos’s thousands of
human rights victims.11 The Marcos clan has also been able to recover many
of the assets that were seized by the PCGG, and there is also evidence that
huge assets still remain under their control, or the control of their cronies and
private bankers.12 Given this track record, which is typical of such private
banking asset recovery operations, there are growing demands for the
PCGG’s abolition.
THE PIE
It is not easy to estimate how much loot has fallen through the the cracks,
though the number is very large. Another piece of circumstantial evidence
was Ferdinand Marcos’s own abortive l988 offer to trade $5 billion for immu-
nity from prosecution and the right to return home. President Aquino’s
response was, “Send the $5 billion, then we’ll talk.” He refused. In August
1988, Adnan Khashoggi also offered to buy $5 billion of Philippine foreign
debt for $1 billion if Marcos got immunity—the world’s first “debt-for-dic-
tator” swap.13 But Aquino also rejected that offer, and Marcos died a man
without a country in Honolulu.
Another indicator of Marcos’s wealth may be the controversial claims of
Reiner Jacobi, an Australian private eye, former PCGG contractor, and by
some accounts, a complete charlatan.14 According to Jacobi, another Liecht-
enstein foundation, Sandy Anstalt, was supposedly created in the 1960s, in
trust for Marcos’s youngest daughter, Irene Marcos-Araneta. He claims that
as of July 1998, this trust still held $13.2 billion in a gold account at UBS in
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 50
50 BLOOD BANKERS
coconut mills, small firearms, real estate and insurance. . . .We will take back
everything that the trustees held on behalf of Ferdinand Marcos, including
those that they have sold and surrendered to the government. . . . I have evi-
dence that these trustees, who eventually turned their backs on us and
became untrusted, can never ever dispute.20
SOURCES
Whatever the precise scale of Marcos’s loot, even the PCCG’s initial esti-
mates established a fortune that was pretty hard to explain on the basis of
Marcos’s official 110,000 peso per year salary as president. In l966, after one
year in office, Ferdinand Marcos estimated his net worth to be a mere
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52 BLOOD BANKERS
funding in the world.After World War II, the Philippines also achieved one of
Asia’s highest per capita levels of foreign private bank lending and foreign in-
vestment.The country is incredibly rich in natural resources—as one geolog-
ical survey in the late l980s concluded, “The Philippines is far more densely
mineralized than Australia. . . .”24 Indeed, it has far more natural resources than
Japan, Korea, or Taiwan. In the seventeenth century, long before Japan opened
up to trade, Spanish galleons were crossing the Pacific laden with Mexican sil-
ver to exchange for Philippine products. Right after World War II, the Phillip-
pines’s income level was second only to Japan’s among Asian countries, its
manufacturing sector was twice the size of Korea’s as a share of national in-
come, and its literacy rate was as high as any Asian country’s.Yet by the late
1980s, the Philippines had become Asia’s basketcase, a poster child for under-
development and inequality, with one of the largest continuing armed insur-
gencies in Asia—a status that it still retains to this day. So, what happened?
To tackle this puzzle and also understand how Marcos managed to pro-
cure so much wealth in such a short time, it is not sufficient to look only at
the history of “the Conjugal Dictatorship.” Some historians might argue, on
the other hand, that we should really head all the way back to the 1890s,
when the US first conquered the country, betrayed and slaughtered its rebel
allies several times over, and implemented a kind of proxy colonialism with
support from the local elites. However, a more proximate cause for the Philip-
pines’s misfortune can be located later, in the fateful choices made—and
evaded—during a critical period right after World War II.
So let us return for a moment to Asia during the mid-1940s and exam-
ine why social revolutions were made in some countries and not others—not
only by communists and the Red Army, but by the US Army, its “supreme
commander,” and an obscure US Army lieutenant named Beplat.
54 BLOOD BANKERS
56 BLOOD BANKERS
taking foreign branches until Morgan opened a tiny one in l965. Even then,
there were many restrictions on their ability to offer foreign loans and recruit
private assets. In effect, the US placed strong limits on “free capital markets,”
in order to strengthen its strategically vital new ward.
Meanwhile, leveraging the military government’s extensive powers,
Beplat helped to modernize many other key aspects of Japan’s financial sys-
tem. He reorganized the Yokohama Specie Bank, which specialized in foreign
exchange, changing its name to The Bank of Tokyo—a name that it still uses
to this day. He arranged a $100 million US loan that kicked off Japan’s first
postwar export boom, in cotton textiles. He also organized a nationwide sav-
ings campaign, giving speeches all over the country to encourage the Japan-
ese to save more so they could finance their own recovery. Unlike Germany,
there was no support for a Marshall Plan for Japan, partly because there was
less of a threat from the Left. Since US banks weren’t allowed to lend there,
domestic savings had to do the job.
As Beplat later recalled, one key objective was to develop a strong indus-
trial export base, and US authorities intervened strongly in capital and cur-
rency markets to do that:
Despite the slowdown in social reform brought about by the Cold War, up to
July l948, when Beplat left MacArthur’s staff, the US military had indeed
presided over a sweeping program of social restructuring. With the help of
leading social scientists like Harvard’s Talcott Parsons and Reischauer,
MacArthur had implemented basic institutional reforms, designing a new
constitution that provided for a two-house parliamentary system, a bill of
rights, an independent judiciary, legal trade unions, and a decentralized system
of municipal government. Thousands of Japanese militarists were purged,
imprisoned, and rehabilitated, the military was limited to “self-defense” forces
and one percent of national income, and the heretofore-divine emperor was
forced to admit in public that he was just a man. For the first time, women
were allowed to vote, own property, and attend school. Education was made
compulsory. A capital levy was exacted from the upper classes to redistribute
wealth, and the zaibatsu’s dominance over industry was reduced.
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58 BLOOD BANKERS
ties that Japan’s “city” banks had fostered with industry, construction compa-
nies, and political leaders, got them all into deep trouble. They financed a
huge speculative “asset bubble” in real estate, and when that bubble burst,
their crony connections prevented them from writing down the loans fast
enough to save the whole economy from a prolonged process of deflation and
slow growth. As a result, all the leading Japanese banks are now saddled with
trillions of dollars in unproductive loans that will take at least until 2006 to
burn off.38
Until the 1990s, however, Beplat’s system at least permitted Japan to
develop almost entirely free of foreign debt, foreign aid, and foreign in-
vestment—as did Taiwan and, to a lesser extent, South Korea, where foreign
investment and foreign loans were even more tightly controlled and, indeed,
commercial banks were ultimately nationalized.39 The strength and inde-
pendence of these countries’ domestic banking systems contributed greatly to
their dynamism from the 1950s to the late 1980s. If, at that point, they had
been able to open up the banking systems, carefully become more competi-
tive and less incestuous, many of the excesses of the last decade might have
been avoided.
In any case, the postwar reforms in Japan, Korea, and Taiwan were surely
some of the world’s most successful “social revolutions” ever—certainly by
comparsion with the results achieved later on by First World development
experts and economic advisors in places like post-Soviet Russia and most
other developing countries that followed the simple-minded neoliberal path.
And this success, in turn, was due in no small part to the forthright focus on
institutional development, the driving threat of radical revolutions in Korea
and China, and the firm use of state power by these otherwise “conservative”
US soldiers.
HE SHALL RETURN
Beplat not only had the catbird seat for Japan’s postwar reconstruction, he
also got an inside look at the restoration of the status quo ante bellum in the
Philippines and Ferdinand Marcos’s rise to power.
At the war’s end, MHT’s only foreign office was in London. In October
1948, Beplat rejoined the bank and opened its first Asian office in Tokyo as
the head of its new Far East department. His focus was “correspondent bank-
ing”: clearing checks, supplying short-term credits, and managing reserves for
other banks. Beplat’s best customers turned out to be the very same large
Japanese banks whose survival he had earlier insured. He took an energetic
approach to this market, cultivating strong personal relationships with local
bankers, launching a program to teach them how to handle foreign exchange
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 59
and letters of credit, and helping his wife organize the first US college schol-
arship program for Japan. This personal approach proved invaluable. As one
Asian banker explained,“I prefer to do business with Beplat—I don’t do busi-
ness with a computer, I do business with my friends.”40
Beplat also called on other Asian countries aggressively. He was one of the
few bankers to visit Seoul during the Korean War (by hitching a ride on a
military plane), and he was also among the first to call on Taiwan, Thailand,
Indonesia, and Singapore. By l952, MHT’s clientele stretched from Bombay
to Manila, and Beplat had become its youngest VP ever.
In 1949, he visited the Philippines for the first time. It presented a strong
contrast to the other “Asian tigers.” Manila had been as devastated by the war
as Tokyo, and even after 1946, when the Philippines achieved nominal
independence, the country was also subject to almost as much US influ-
ence—all four of its presidents in the late l940s and l950s got substantial
covert assistance from the CIA.41 Land ownership was even more con-
centrated than in Japan—sugar, tobacco, and coconut plantations were domi-
nated by just forty families. And most of them—including the father of
Benigno Aquino, who would later become Marcos’s main political oppo-
nent—had been Japanese collaborators.42
But Douglas MacArthur was simply not prepared to make a social revo-
lution in what amounted to be his own hometown. Since l898, the Philip-
pines had been a virtual US colony. Ironically enough, unlike Japan, the
Philippines had never really been a feudal society, and while land ownership
was already pretty concentrated when the US arrived, the most important
land holdings belonged to the Catholic Church. Rather than support the
widespread distribution of these holdings, however, the US permitted them
to be sold off to a handful of elite families in the Christian community, mainly
of Spanish origin.
Over the next few decades, this local elite developed very close ties with
US companies and officials, including MacArthur’s own family. His father,
General Arthur A. MacArthur, had been the islands’ governor-general, in
charge of brutally suppressing Aguinaldo’s peasant rebellion in 1899–1902.43
Douglas MacArthur grew up in Manila; he was a close friend of Philippine
presidents Manuel Quezon and Sergio Osmeña, the former speaker of the
Philippine Assembly from 1907 to 1920, who had perfected the spoils system
long before Ferdinand Marcos:“Nobody could join the government without
a letter from him. . . . He perfected the kami-kami, tayo-tayo [we and us] of
Philippine politics.”44 Two of Douglas MacArthur’s closest advisors were
Andres Soriano, a wealthy landowner and brewer, and Brigadier General
Courtney Whitney, the “fiercely anti-union” lawyer who represented many of
Manila’s business interests and commanded a rightist militia. Many of his
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60 BLOOD BANKERS
other pals were from ilustrado (illustrious) families, like the Elizaldes, Ayalas,
and Sorianos. In the 1930s, Douglas MacArthur became a military advisor to
the Philippine government, in charge of putting down another peasant rebel-
lion. He was not about to upset his friends in the Philippine elite with con-
fiscatory land reform.
So, General Douglas MacArthur treated the Philippines very differently
from Japan. A new constitution was promulgated in 1946, but the US toler-
ated rampant electoral fraud in the l946 and l949 elections and used bribery
to help its preferred candidates win.45 MacArthur purged a few blatant Japan-
ese sympathizers from the government, but he freed five thousand other col-
laborators, restoring their jobs and property. He even rehabilitated one of the
most notorious ones, the landlord and attorney Manual A. Roxas, issued him
a pardon for his wartime crimes, and got him elected president. On the other
hand, the peasant-based Hukbalahap guerillas, who had fought hard against
the Japanese, became his archenemies.
Meanwhile, far from making the economy independent, the Bell Act of
l946—drafted by the US Congress and virtually imposed on the Philippines
as a condition of independence—abolished all tariffs on US imports, pegged
the peso to the dollar, prohibited the Philippines from manufacturing or sell-
ing any products that might “come into substantial competition” with US-
made goods, required that the Philippine constitution be revised to grant US
citizens and corporations equal access to Philippine minerals, forests and other
natural resources, and lifted all restrictions on financial flows between the US
and the Philippines.46 The US also retained effective sovereignty over dozens
of military bases under the terms of this “independence,” which officially
commenced, oddly enough, on July 4, 1946.
As for land reform, nothing was done about it until a new Huks rebel-
lion took off in 1946, partly in response to the harsh Bell Act conditions,
which the country’s first president Manuel A. Roxas—the attorney for the
sugar interests and Japanese collaborator—accepted. Ramon Magsay, a US-
backed defense minister and presidential candidate, made vague promises
about land reform in his l950 election campaign, and in l952 Robert S.
Hardie, Wolfgang Ladejinsky’s protégé in Japan, even visited Manila and
drafted a land reform law along Japanese lines. But it was never implemented.
Instead, the US preferred to pursue a military strategy.The rebellion was tem-
porarily quelled by the Philippine military, directed by the CIA’s Colonel
Edward G. Lansdale, who later applied his experiences in the Philippines to
the development of the US “counterinsurgency” strategy in Vietnam. Robert
S. Hardie’s proposals for land reform in the Philippines were quietly shelved
in 1953 after he was denounced by the landed families, and in 1954,Wolfgang
Ladejinsky was fired as a “security risk” by President Eisenhower’s secretary
of agriculture.47
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 61
Later, Beplat and other US bankers financed all the Philippines’s largest
sugar and coconut barons, including the Cojuangcos, Aquinos, Elizaldes, and
Lopezes. They got special quotas for the US market, generous World Bank
loans, and US AID grants for irrigation, power projects, and other capital-
intensive rural projects. Ladejinsky’s hard-won lessons were forgotten.And the
World Bank/IMF’s own low-wage “export crop” model of agricultural devel-
opment also forgot the role that land reform and small-scale rice and corn
production had played in the successful social transformations of Japan, Tai-
wan, and Korea.
The resulting long-term alliance between the US government and the
Philippine elite had profound consequences. For example, the “import substi-
tution” policy that many development economists eventually came to deplore
by the late l980s had previously been pursued by all the “Asian tigers” in the
l950s.What really hurt the Philippines was that it continued this policy long
after countries like Japan,Taiwan, and Korea switched to a strategy of export-
led growth, based on manufacturing for global markets.To explain this iner-
tia, we need to invoke the persistent influence of the Philippine local elite,
backed by US power, interests, and, of course, wide-open foreign banking.
The Philippines’s persistent long-term problems of competitiveness and
dependence on foreign debt were thus directly related to the problem of land.
The elite found it almost too easy to enjoy the sweet life simply by export-
ing sugar, copper, abaca, and other cash commodities. Partly because of the
Bell Act, the only manufacturing done was for the local market. But this mar-
ket was small to begin with, and the highly unequal class system helped to
keep it that way. For decades, in turn, this provincial local industry lacked the
scale and technical depth needed to compete abroad, except in low-skilled
industries like electronics assembly.The Philippine elite also acquired a strong
appetite for imports—US luxury goods, cars and trucks, fertilizer, trade
finance, machinery, education at US schools, foreign vacations, medical care,
fashions, and bank accounts.The result was a stunted form of capitalist devel-
opment, a schizophrenic combination of import substitution and foreign
dominance. By the 1980s, of the top thousand Philippine companies, 334 for-
eign-owned ones still accounted for fifty-five percent of total sales. And the
country was left wide open to profit repatriation, foreign loans, and flight.The
contrast with Japan’s growth path and economic structure could not have
been greater.
The whole character of the Philippine state in turn was shaped by the
agro-industrial elite’s precarious situation. Surrounded by a sea of property-
less, uneducated peasants, as well as by the growth of radical peasant-based
movements in other Southeast Asian countries that also lacked land reform,
like Indonesia and Vietnam, the elite’s primary need was security. It came to
rely on the US as a defender against the perceived “Communist threat” at
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62 BLOOD BANKERS
home and abroad—just as the Philippine elite had also relied on the Japanese
against the Huks.The growing peasant problem, in turn, fed US perceptions
of a Vietnam-like security threat and encouraged the US to provide generous
amounts of military and economic assistance, while it turned its back on labor
unions, peasant cooperatives, land reform, and free elections. In 1946–50, the
Philippines received more than $2 billion in US aid. In this respect, too, the
contrast with Japan’s MacArthur Plan, which had relied on institutional
reform rather than doles and loans, could not be stronger.
With weak legal institutions and democratic checks and balances, the
Philippines’s immature security state soon became bloated and corrupt. The
narrow class system, rampant corruption, and peasant unrest fostered a capital
exodus. From the early l950s on, not long after foreign bankers like Tris
Beplat started calling, capital flight began to trickle out.The Philippine elite’s
central dilemma was that, given its position, it needed the security state to
preserve order, yet in the hands of a ruthless autocrat like Marcos, this whole
state security apparatus could easily became exploitative. To understand the
origins of the Philippines’s development problem, its continuing debt/flight
problem, and its exceptional status in Asia, it is crucial for us to acknowledge
this central contradiction.At its root were the fateful choices made more than
forty years ago by US generals, bankers, and their cronies in the Philippine
elite, long before Ferdinand Marcos ever courted his “Rose of Tacloban.”
OLD FRIENDS
Unlike Japan, with the Philippine economy wide open to foreign capital,
there were almost no domestic banks for Tris Beplat to call on when he first
arrived in Manila in l949. The market was already dominated by Citibank,
Bank of America, Lloyds, and Standard Chartered—all of which had opened
full branches before the war. Fortunately for MHT, the country was just
organizing its first Central Bank. So Beplat called on its new governor, Man-
ual Cuadernos, and offered some timely advice on the basis of his Japanese
experience. Unlike Japan, where the strong domestic private banks were
MHT’s largest clients, the Central Bank and other government agencies soon
came to play that role in the Philippines.
On his first visit, Beplat also called on José “Pepe” Cojuangco, head of the
Philippine Bank of Commerce (PCB), the islands’ only locally owned bank
at that point, established in 1938. Cojuangco was another happy find. His
family owned the country’s richest sugar and tobacco plantations in Tarlac
Province ninety miles north of Manila, and Pepe’s brother Ramon Cojuangco
later became a key owner in PLDT, the Philippine Long Distance Telephone
Company. In the l970s, his brother Eduardo Cojuangco would become the
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 63
islands’ coconut czar and acquire the United Coconut Planters Bank
(UCPB). He would also be Ferdinand (“Bong Bong”) Marcos Jr.’s godfather,
and one of Marcos’s richest allies. After 1986, Eduardo Cojuangco continued
to represent the Marcos faction in the Philippines and sponsored at least one
failed coup attempt against Corazon Aquino.
In l960, José Cojuangco’s assistant, José B. (“Jobo”) Fernandez, founded
an important bank of his own, Far East Bank and Trust (FEBTC). By the
l980s it was the islands’ fastest growing bank. Fernandez served as governor of
the Central Bank from 1984 to l990.And José’s son Pedro, who ran PCB after
he died, became one of Beplat’s best friends. Finally, in l954, Corazon
(“Cory”) Cojuangco, José’s daughter and Fernandez’s cousin, married a rich
young politician named Benigno (“Ninoy”) Aquino Jr., whose family owned
much of the southern half of Tarlac. Benigno Aquino would become Ferdi-
nand Marcos’s main rival.When Benigno Aquino was assassinated by Marcos’s
henchmen in August 1983, Corazon Cojuangco inherited his role as leader
of the moderate opposition.When Ferdinand Marcos was ousted in February
l986, she became president.
In any case, Tris Beplat returned to Japan from this very first visit to
Manila with a whole lifetime’s portfolio of influential friends, plus the coun-
try’s two most important financial institutions as clients. He continued to
strengthen these relationships throughout the l950s, aided by Dwight Allen,
an ex-marine who had parachuted into the Philippines in l944 on
MacArthur’s “I will return” campaign, and joined MHT in Tokyo in l952.
Beplat returned to New York in 1955 to become MHT’s senior vice presi-
dent for the Far East, but he continued to visit the Philippines at least twice
a year. In l961, MHT’s Dwight Allen opened a Manila office. Between them,
Beplat and Allen knew every Philippine president and every Central Bank
governor personally. In the early l960s, Beplat often dined with President
Diosdado Macapagal, who introduced him in l962 to Ferdinand Marcos, a
bright young lawyer-turned-senator from the Nacionalista Party.That began
a friendship that lasted until the dictator’s death in l989.
In l965, the year Marcos was elected president, the country’s entire for-
eign debt was only $577 million. By February l970, it exceeded $2 billion,
and the Philippines was in the middle of its first deep payment crisis. Grego-
rio S. Licaros, Central Bank governer, asked Beplat to organize its very first
IMF “standby” loan. He recalled the response:
I knew trouble was coming because I had talked it over with the previous
Central Bank governor.They had huge debts, and they were so low on cash
they had to pledge all their gold to get a $20 million loan.Then Licaros took
over. I knew him ever since he ran the Industrial Bank. He went to New
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 64
64 BLOOD BANKERS
York and was unable to raise any money. “None of the banks even want to
see me,” he told me. It took me four months to raise $300 million.We got
the IMF to pledge that it would not come down hard, and we got Caltex
to delay payments for its oil shipments to the Philippines for a year. I was
right in the middle. It really helped that I had been out there, knew all the
players, and had confidence in the country.48
l970 to l986, Japanese lenders provided $4.7 billion to other Philippine gov-
ernment entities and $830 million to private companies. Another $1.4 billion
came by way of the ADB, where Japan had great influence. This lending was
not only due to Beplat’s influence. At the time, Ferdinand Marcos looked like
a pretty safe bet. He had powerful US friends, the economy was growing fast
enough, and the country was viewed as a source of low-cost commodities,
labor, and durable goods orders. But it was Beplat who made many of the cru-
cial introductions. For Marcos and his cronies, Beplat’s friendship may have
been the real “Yamashita gold.”
Given MHT’s role, it is not surprising that Beplat became one of Ferdi-
nand Marcos’s closest personal advisors. Even after he retired from MHT in
l974, he continued to advise the president personally. Marcos’s personal papers
contain many letters from Beplat about matters like elections and the econ-
omy.52 Throughout the l970s, he and his wife, as well as Harry Pangburne, the
head of MHT’s Private Banking Department, were often invited to Imelda
Marcos’s New York parties. When Imee Marcos attended Princeton in the
l970s, Beplat’s real estate broker located a thirteen-acre farm for her, and
Beplat personally served as the property’s trustee.53 When other Marcos asso-
ciates like José Campos and Fay Roa Jimenez, Imelda Marcos’s personal sec-
retary, an unindicted coconspirator in Imelda Marcos’s l989 New York trial,
sought to hide $80 million in deposits, MHT’s Harry Pangburne helped
out.54 MHT also made more than $112 million in government-guaranteed
loans to the private sector, especially to Eduardo Cojuangco’s companies.
When the country got in trouble in the mid-1980s, it was MHT senior vice
president David Pflug who was handpicked by Marcos to chair the Advisory
Committee of Foreign Banks, in charge of restructuring the Philippines for-
eign debt.
The “Golden Heart” was not Beplat’s only Asian award. In l975, the
Emperor of Japan awarded him the “Order of the Sacred Treasure, Second
Class,” Japan’s highest honor for a foreigner, for “services to the Japanese
economy.” Other recipients of this honor have included Paul Volcker and
Ronald Reagan. Daiwa Bank, one of the Japanese banks that lent most heav-
ily to the Philippines, also made Beplat a director. He was also a member of
the Council of Foreign Relations from 1984 until his death in 1997.
In the course of his life, Tris Beplat thus had the unique opportunity to
participate in the radical transformations of two key Asian societies. These
transformations had profoundly different outcomes. In one case, a vanquished
foe was forced through a sweeping set of institutional reforms and ended up
with one of the world’s most vigorous democratic capitalist economies. In the
other case, a collaborating elite was treated with kid gloves by its “ally,” which
provided the country with record levels of foreign finance, military aid, and
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 66
66 BLOOD BANKERS
minister and manager of the Philippine National Bank, the largest state-
owned bank. Several of Marcos’s top officials were also partners in the lead-
ing Manila accounting firm of SyCip, Gorres,Velayo (SGV & Co.). And even
if all these experts and controls failed, the economy supposedly being moni-
tored closely by the IMF’s full-time resident advisor, Kamel Sieber, who had
his own suite right inside the Central Bank. So what could possibly go
wrong?
In June 1983, a team of bankers and economists from two leading New
York banks felt compelled to travel twelve thousand miles to Manila. Late
June is not the best time of year to visit. It is typhoon season, when pollution
and traffic are more obnoxious than usual, and there is also the usual dangers
of floods, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions. But the bankers felt they had
to ask the Philippine Central Bank a few tough questions. Paul H. Mayers,
head of Chemical Bank’s Asia/Middle East Division, and David L. Pflug,
Beplat’s successor as MHT’s Asian point man, suggested the visit. By the
spring of l983, they sensed that an economic typhoon was brewing.
On the surface, the Marcos regime had not really fared too badly in the
l970s. Overall growth averaged six percent, while manufacturing grew at
eight percent, investment at seven percent, and exports at ten percent, even
though inflation stayed low. Out in the rice paddies, the US-funded “Green
Revolution” boosted farm productivity by five percent a year. All this appar-
ent “growth” had helped persuade the Philippines’s foreign creditors to keep
Marcos’s balls in the air for more than a decade. In retrospect, however, this
growth had a false bottom. Manufacturing growth took place behind high
protectionist barriers, which yielded noncompetitive local firms, distorted
prices, and, ironically enough, the continued dominance of foreign compa-
nies. The growth of exports was based on traditional raw commodities like
sugar, coconuts, copper, and gold, as well as the overexploitation of tropical
rain forests and fisheries. The growth in investment depended on a steady
stream of foreign capital and loans. Export agriculture also depended heavily
on a form of capital-and-fertilizer-intensive technology that was close to its
natural limits. And the main beneficiaries of all this were just a handful of
agro-industrialists who thrived on insider deals, government subsidies, and
protected markets.
In the early l980s, the shallowness of this strategy suddenly became clear
under the pressure of external shocks.The 1979 oil shock added $750 million
to the islands’ energy bill, while rising world interest rates in l980–82 boosted
debt service by more than $250 million.The terms of trade for commodities
like sugar and coconuts, which accounted for two-thirds of exports, fell by
twenty-five percent. The 1982 debt crunch in Latin America also led First
World banks to cut back on their loans to Asia.The US, Japan, and the UK—
the Philippines’s main markets—entered deep recessions all at once.
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 68
68 BLOOD BANKERS
Korea, Taiwan, and Japan weathered this tough environment well and
kept growing. But the Philippine economy fell apart. Under pressure from
domestic interest groups to maintain a strong peso, low taxes and interest
rates, the Central Bank borrowed heavily abroad, financing the peso’s appre-
ciation. That stimulated imports and capital flight, which consumed nearly
half of all new foreign loans from l976 to l982. By one estimate, more than
sixty percent of export earnings were parked offshore.57 Jaime Ongpin sum-
marized the situation well:“Every successful businessman, lawyer, accountant,
doctor and dentist I know has some form of cash that he began to squirrel
abroad after Marcos declared martial law and frightened every Filipino who
had anything to lose.”58
In l982, the trade deficit and the government deficit both soared out of
control. By early 1983, pressure on the peso was so strong that Ferdinand
Marcos cynically ordered thousands of the ordinary Filipinos working
abroad—mostly maids and construction workers—to repatriate half their
earnings, on pain of losing their passports.59 Meanwhile, his secret police or-
ganized the country’s top five “Binondo black market” dealers into a cartel,
forcing them to buy and sell dollars at rates that were dictated by the gov-
ernment. That created another $400 million arbitrage opportunity for his
friends.60
Capital flight was fed by growing political uncertainty. In the aftermath of
Benigno Aquino’s 1977 imprisonment and the rigged 1978 National Assem-
bly elections, journalists around the world began to call the Philippines the
“Pacific powder keg.”61 In December 1980, a World Bank study concluded
that Ferdinand Marcos’s position was “precarious.”Then, defying all warnings,
in June l981, Marcos awarded himself another six-year term with a com-
manding eighty-six percent of the “vote.” He proclaimed the beginning of a
“New Republic” and an end to martial law. But very few were fooled—the
same martial law measures remained in effect.Throughout l982, reports circu-
lated that his health was failing, that he was losing control to Imelda Marcos
and the generals, and that he was smuggling huge quantities of cash and gold
abroad. There was also mounting repression in rural areas. By 1983, even his
closest foreign allies, like the CIA’s William J. Casey, were becoming con-
cerned.
As early as January 1981, MHT had had trouble completing a $200 mil-
lion syndicated loan for the Philippine Central Bank.62 MHT’s own exposure
to the Philippines peaked at $650 million in June 1982 and then fell to $450
million by 1983. But it was reluctant to stop lending entirely for fear of pre-
cipitating a panic.63 In January 1983, MHT assembled a $300 million loan for
the Central Bank, its last “voluntary” syndication.As one senior MHT banker
later recalled, that loan was very controversial within the bank:“Our share was
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 69
only $20 million, but there were many heated arguments. Some bankers had
dealt with these guys a long time; they kept saying the Philippines was dif-
ferent.We just didn’t want that world to end.”64
Other US banks soon began to curtail their Philippine credits. In April
1983, with the country’s reserves almost gone, the government started secret
talks with the IMF, seeking yet another standby loan. In late April 1983,
Chemical Bank’s Mayers suggested to “Gabby” Singson, the Central Bank’s
deputy director, that his two most trusted creditors should take a discrete look
at the Central Bank’s books to see if a debt rescheduling could be avoided.
Singson passed the idea on to Dr. Jaime Laya, the Central Bank’s governor,
who agreed on the condition that only MHT and Chemical be involved. He
felt they could be trusted, since they had both worked with the Central Bank
for so long.
On June 20, 1983, three economists and two bankers from Chemical and
MHT, including its chief economist, arrived at the Central Bank on a highly
secretive mission. They found an IMF Country Mission already there. They
also discovered that when they asked for information, they met stiff resistance.
As one of the auditing team members later recalled, “We had to keep asking
for certain tables.” Eventually the bankers hauled out the ultimate weapon:
“Look, we’re your largest creditors. Show us the books or we’ll pull all your
credit lines. Today.”
It turns out that there was good reason for the lack of cooperation—“the
best system in Asia” had a lot to hide.
One Central Bank secret became public in late l983, in the wake of
Benigno Aquino’s “one-gun salute” assassination at Manila Airport on August
12. In September 1983, Jaime Laya and Prime Minister Virata met privately
with bankers at the IMF Annual Meeting in Washington, DC. Dr. Laya star-
tled them by blurting out that “we might have to think about a debt resched-
uling.” In October, Dr. Laya,Virata, and Imelda Marcos’s brother, US ambas-
sador Benjamin (“Kokoy”) Romualdez, met the Advisory Committee of
Banks in New York, and Dr. Laya announced that the Philippines was sus-
pending debt service. He explained that the Aquino assassination had trig-
gered a capital outflow of more than $1 billion, draining reserves. Surprisingly,
the Advisory Committee gave Dr. Laya a standing ovation. They still had
supreme confidence in Fedinand’s technocrats.
Only three days later, the Advisory Committee’s chairman got a tense
phone call from the Central Bank. It seemed that Dr. Laya had made a little
misstatement—the country’s foreign reserves were not $1.4 billion, but less
than $400 million.The Advisory Committee immediately dispatched a Mor-
gan vice president and two other senior bankers to Manila to clear things up.
One of them later recalled what they found:
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 70
70 BLOOD BANKERS
I spent a week going through every one of the Central Bank’s foreign
exchange contracts for the past year. I happened to notice one that went
unsettled way back in April, so we checked all the other contracts . . . and
then we knew—the Central Bank had been lying to us all year about its
reserves. 65
As it turned out, in the fall of 1982, the Philippine Central Bank had started
inflating its foreign reserve estimates to cover up the growing crisis and com-
ply with IMF targets for reserve levels. Several schemes had been used. The
most important was that the Philippine National Bank’s London office bor-
rowed funds for one day at the end of each month and then secretly reloaned
them to the Central Bank. The average overstatement was $600 million. By
mid-l983, it exceeded $1 billion. So Dr. Laya had been lying—the “$1 billion
flight drain” really had been missing all year long.
The Morgan banker also discovered that the Philippine foreign debt was
not $18 billion, as widely assumed, but at least $24.6 billion. Despite all the
fancy debt measurement systems, the country had completely lost track of its
short-term foreign debt. Except for the numerical horseplay they induced,
the IMF’s fancy economic planning targets had been completely meaning-
less.66 At first, the visiting team of bankers kept the findings secret.They did-
n’t want to upset the debt rescheduling talks, and, quite frankly, they were a
little nervous:
After all, we knew the IMF was going to be mad as hell. President Marcos
would be embarrassed, and heads were going to roll. And this was Manila.
So our imaginations worked overtime—I’d say there was actual physical fear.
The day we found out, we made plane reservations to go home—on sepa-
rate planes.67
On November 1, 1983, this team met Pflug and Taylor in Manila, who flew
directly to see IMF managing director Jacques Delarosier in Washington, DC.
All of them were deeply embarrassed, especially Delarosier. After all, since the
l950s the IMF had maintained a closer relationship with the Philippines than
almost any other developing country, and Dr. Laya’s inflated numbers had
undermined a very carefully crafted IMF “structural adjustment” program.
Delarosier immediately fired his resident expert, Kamel Sieber, and ordered his
own auditors to Manila.A week later, he met Pflug and Taylor at the first-class
lounge at Kennedy Airport. He told them his auditors had uncovered many
other distortions.The situation was unworkable; he was recalling his Country
Mission and delaying the disbursement of the $630 million standby loan,
pending a complete “independent” audit of the Philippine Central Bank.
Marcos’s top officials didn’t lose much stride, however. In January 1984,
Marcos appointed the scrupulous Dr. Laya to be minister of education and
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:42 PM Page 71
chairman of PNB. His replacement at the Central Bank was Jose B. Fernan-
dez, Jose Cojuangco’s protègè, who was not only a close friend of both Mar-
cos and Beplat, but also the majority owner of FEBTC, in which Chemical
and Mitsui Bank both had minority interests. And who was chosen by the
IMF to do the “independent” audit? None other than Dr. Laya’s own
accounting firm, SGV & Co.
The audit was finished in just a few weeks. It has never been released. A
Central Bank spokesman said at the time that it “found all translations deal-
ing with foreign exchange to be normal and legitimate.” The IMF and the
foreign banks accepted this whitewash and reopened their debt restructuring
negotiations. In late November 1984, the banks, under Pflug’s leadership,
advanced the Marcos government another $925 million. This was added to
the country’s outstanding debt and immediately used to pay overdue interest.
Despite this diplomatic settlement, the episode left a lot of bad feelings.
As one banker later recalled:
In all our banks’ boardrooms people had been saying,“The Philippine num-
bers may look bad, but Marcos has a first-rate team.”Then it turned out that
his team had been lying through its teeth. We felt let down. And it threw
suspicion on everything. If the Central Bank was capable of doing that, what
else might it do?68
Years later, PCGG investigators discovered that the Philippine Central Bank
had indeed been highly versatile. For example, it secretly spent $200 million
on pro-Marcos candidates for National Congress in the May 1984 elections,
and it minted thirty-seven million fifty-centavo coins with the name of a
Philippine eagle species intentionally misspelled so that it would immediately
became a collectors’ item for insiders.
There was also the little matter of the missing gold. In December l982,
the Central Bank’s official gold reserves had been 1.9 million ounces; by the
end of l983, they were just 0.3 million ounces, a 50-ton difference that was
worth at least $660 million.69 Asked to explain this disparity in l986, Central
Bank officials explained that there had been some “routine” gold sales to make
up for capital flight.70 But why liquidate gold stocks at such a sensitive time
rather than borrow against them? A few PCCG investigators noted the coin-
cidence between the size of the “missing gold” and the reserves overstate-
ment.They also found evidence of many rather unorthodox gold shipments:71
• In September 1983, a Korean Air flight bound for Zurich ran off the
end of a Manila runway. The KAL pilot reported that the mishap
occurred “because of the weight of the gold.”
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 72
72 BLOOD BANKERS
There were also many other reports of large-scale gold deals during this
period.74 One of the most interesting involved a US attorney, Richard
Hirschfield, who had extensive discussions with Marcos in l987 in Hawaii,
under the guise of helping him buy arms. Hirschfield taped the discussions
and later testified before Congress. On the tapes, Marcos said that he planned
to retake the Philippines with an invasion financed by “plenty of Central
Bank gold” that he had stashed away.75 He claimed it had been resmelted to
look like Japanese war gold, and that some had already been sold through
Hong Kong. According to Hirschfield:
Marcos tried to persuade us that he had enough money to mount the over-
throw. He showed me a list of accounts at the Hong Kong branches of
Citibank, BCCI, and California Overseas Bank. Because his assets were
frozen by lawsuits, he had to live on “loans” from these accounts, which were
officially controlled by other people. He showed me transfers involving mil-
lions of dollars—for example, payments to his Washington law firm by way
of Citibank-Hong Kong.76
THE POISONING
By far, the most important discovery about the Central Bank’s misbehav-
ior, however, was actually made way back in June l983, at the initial “friendly
private audit” by the bankers from MHT and Chemical. Until now, its results
have not been disclosed.This long-lasting secrecy is a tribute to the discretion
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 73
of these bankers, their bosses, and the US Federal Reserve and National Secu-
rity Agency, all of which were fully informed of the audit’s findings. One key
participant, one of the bankers who made the trip, later recalled what hap-
pened:
74 BLOOD BANKERS
When I first heard this banker’s tale, I found it pretty incredible, although
he had a very credible reputation in the New York banking industry and all
his confirmable dates and travel plans checked out. But the gap in the Cen-
tral Bank’s books was tantalizingly difficult to confirm at first. Of the four
other bankers who also went on this June 1983 trip, one refused to talk. A
second confirmed many of the details, but claimed that he personally had
lacked access to the loan disbursement records. A third erroneously recalled
that his team had stumbled on to Dr. Laya’s “missing reserves” scandal.78
But it was clear that something very important had turned up in Manila
that week in June 1983. Just one week later, Harry Taylor, MHT’s vice chair-
man and senior international lending officer, arrived to see President Marcos
in person. There was also a sharp clash between IMF observer Sieber and
Governor Laya at a meeting where a blackboard was broken. An officer from
Chemical Bank on the trip briefed US ambassador Michael H.Armacost, and
US Secretary of State George Schultz also paid a personal call on Marcos at
the end of June.79
CONFIRMATION
Two years after I first heard this story, on a visit to Manila, I managed to
obtain a Central Bank computer printout of all the Philippine foreign loans
by borrower and lender, as of l986. In l987, the Central Bank had dumped
this two thousand-page printout, the so-called “Jobo Report,” on the
National Congress, where it had since gathered dust.With help from friends
like “Keo,” however, I was able to identify most of the crony companies that
had obtained Central Bank loans.The analysis strongly supported the banker’s
story.
In particular, the Jobo Report itemized more than $6 billion of Philip-
pine government-guaranteed loans that had passed through Marcos’s Central
Bank and were later assumed by the Aquino government.These included $4.9
billion in syndicated loans that had been disbursed by MHT, as the Central
Bank’s agent. Of those, $4.2 billion had been lent under the Consolidated
Foreign Borrower Program. There was also another $809 million in “Paris
Club” export credits to private companies. Unfortunately, the Jobo Report
only identified a few of the loan recipients by name. But the recipients of 796
loans, totalling $855 million, were listed. More than three-quarters of them—
$624 million—went to companies that were controlled by Marcos and his
closest associates.80 For example:
76 BLOOD BANKERS
Furthermore, this list omits many loans that couldn’t be attributed to partic-
ular companies.This includes another $3.5 billion of Central Bank relending.
For reasons that may now be clear, the Aquino government never really vig-
orously investigated these loans, or tried to recover them.
In March 1989, Dr. Laya was arrested in Miami by the FBI and charged
in connection with the indictments of Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos by New
York District Attorney Rudolph Giuliani on racketeering charges. But in July
1990, Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos were acquitted—in large measure simply
because the jury thought the Philippine government should be prosecuting
these people for their crimes, not the US. But senior officials in the post-Mar-
cos government had no intention of trying their elite friends in the ancien
régime. And the role of US and Swiss banks in all these shenanigans, as well as
the loans that disappeared from the Central Bank in the accounts of Marcos
and his cronies, were never even considered by the New York grand jury.The
much larger racketeering case—involving the collusion that continues to this
day among the Filipino elite, their foreign creditors, private bankers, and their
allies in the US, Japanese, and other First World governments—has never been
tried before any jury.
78 BLOOD BANKERS
There were only a few problems. One problem was that the plant was so
poorly designed that it soon became one of the Philippines’s leading safety
hazards and “debt elephants.” It has also provided the occasion for several extra-
ordinary payoffs.As noted,Westinghouse and the other contractors paid off one
of Marcos’s closest cronies to get the job and then overpriced it by several
hundred million dollars, which made it one of the world’s most expensive
power plants at the time.
The other untold story about the plant involves its bankers.Arguably, this
was more important than the hardware payoffs—after all,“no loans, no power
plant.” It had two parts. The first involved getting the US EXIM Bank to
finance the plant with $277.2 million in public credits, plus a guarantee for a
$256.6 million syndicated private bank loan and $90 million in interest.
EXIM was accustomed to financing big-ticket exports for its influential cor-
porate clients. In the l970s, two-thirds of its credits went to just seven US
companies: GE, Westinghouse, Boeing, Lockheed, McDonnell Douglas,
Combustion Engineering, and AT&T. But the Bataan Nuclear Plant was its
largest loan ever, consuming half its lending authority in l975. Both the US
Embassy and EXIM’s staff had recommended against the deal on economic
grounds.
In November l975, the EXIM staff members were overruled by their
boss, William J. Casey, after he visited President Marcos in Manila. A month
later, Casey left EXIM to return to his law practice at Rogers and Wells in
New York. In l981, when he was appointed to head the CIA by President
Reagan, Casey submitted a list of his Rogers & Wells clients to the US Sen-
ate. One of them turned out to be a San Francisco company that was owned
by a Marcos front man, Herminio T. Disini.83 Casey, his close friends, and his
boss Ronald Reagan also had many other curious connections to the Marcos
clan—many of which remain under tight wrap in US national security
archives and the Reagan Presidential Library.
The other crucial piece of the Bataan financing story involved the pro-
ject’s syndication. The bank that became the syndicate’s lead agent stood to
collect a nice $2.3 million fee, in addition to interest. (In the mid-1970s, that
was still considered a lot of money.) So when MHT’s syndicators in London
got wind of the deal in l973, they dove for it. So did American Express Bank’s
Cordell Hull Jr., the son of a former secretary of state and a good friend of
Casey’s. As of 1975, Hull was certain that he had the Bataan deal in the bag.
Then, as another banker who was deeply involved in the deal recalled,“Sud-
denly this guy from Citibank’s London syndication unit swooped down, saw
Disini, and just grabbed it.”Two New York Times reporters later tracked down
the Citibanker, and, according to them, he admitted paying off Disini. In Feb-
ruary 1976, a thirty-bank syndicate, with Citibank as its agent and led by Citi,
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 79
American Express Bank, and MHT, made the loan.AEB and MHT each con-
tributed $19 million, while Citi provided $16 million, for a return on a “deal
equity” of more than 150 percent. Unfortunately, the New York Times never
printed their own reporters’ discoveries about this aspect of Citibank’s
involvement in the plant.84
This was by no means the only case of abusive Citibanking in the Philip-
pines. For example, in the early l980s, Citi’s country manager was Rafael B.
Buenaventura, whose brother Cesar ran Shell Oil’s subsidiary and was also a
member of Marcos’s Monetary Board. In l983, Citi-Manila suddenly switched
its funding from its head office in New York to Manila’s interbank market.
This had two benefits. First, it reduced Citibank’s share of new money assess-
ments in the debt talks. Second, amazingly, the Philippines also became liable
for part of Citi-Manila’s own “foreign debt.” One disgruntled Japanese banker
recalled what happened:
After Marcos tumbled, responsibility for private-sector debts like this one be-
came a key issue in the country’s debt negotiations. In October l986, John
Reed, Citibank’s chairman at the time, addressed the American Chamber of
Commerce in the Philippines in Manila and warned the Aquino government
baldly: “If you repudiate your debts, it will cause you immense suffering.”86
Evidently Corazon Aquino got the message: Her l987 rescheduling
agreement with the banks provided that $34 million of Citi-Manila’s debt to
itself (Citibank-New York) was assumed by the Philippines. She also assumed
about $30 million of Central Bank loans to the Bank of the Philippine
Islands, which was twenty-percent owned by JPMorgan, plus $210 million of
debts borrowed by Central Bank governor Fernandez’s own FEBTC Bank,
one-quarter owned by Chemical and Mitsui.87 So here we have the ultimate
role reversal in the Third World debt story—for purposes of this bailout,
Citibank, JPMorgan, Chemical, and Mitsui all became “debtor countries.”
80 BLOOD BANKERS
• In March 1968, Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos opened their first four
Swiss accounts at Credit Suisse’s Zurich branch under the names
“William Saunders” and “Jane Ryan,” with a deposit of $950,000.The
accounts were opened by Credit Suisse director C.Walter Fessler.95
• In l970, these two accounts were closed and the deposits were trans-
ferred to two Credit Suisse accounts in the name of a Liechtenstein
stiftung (foundation). Marcos instructed the bank that “In the event we
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 81
would wish to make withdrawals, we will send you a cable with the
words ‘happy birthday’ . . . then you will cause your Hong Kong repre-
sentative to visit us personally in Manila.”
• By l986, Marcos had set up at least seventeen Liechtenstein stiftungen
(foundations for the benefit of family members), which, in turn, owned
multiple accounts at Credit Suisse. Marcos also controlled four accounts
at Credit Suisse’s Bahamas subsidiary. As of l983, the deposits in seven
identified Credit Suisse accounts totaled $263.5 million. Credit Suisse
only relinquished control over these deposits in 1998.
82 BLOOD BANKERS
decade, the Philippines signed two debt reschedulings and two more IMF let-
ters of intent, its nineteenth and twentieth in twenty-five years. It also paid its
interest bills religiously. Her government and those of her successors, Fidel
Ramos (1992–98), Joseph Estrada (1998–2001), and Gloria Macapagal-
Arroyo (2001–), also embarked on liberalization programa that were as far-
reaching as any outside Pinochet’s Chile and the PRI’s Mexico. Import quo-
tas were lifted, tariffs were slashed, interest and exchange rates were liberated,
more than two hundred state enterprises and other concessions were priva-
tized, a generous debt-equity swap program was adopted, marginal tax rates
were reduced on higher income taxpayers, marketing monopolies for co-
conuts and other commodities were abolished, and government spending was
reduced—although not its deficits.
The aim of all this, in the words of Aquino’s trade minister, Jose Con-
cepcion, was to become a “newly industrialized country by the year 2000.”
That target date soon proved to be a little optimistic, but free-market zealots
at the IMF, the World Bank and private banks could hardly have wished for
more. In the wake of their disastrous cofinancing of the Marcos dictatorship,
they were relieved to be off the hook for the costs of financing the new
democracy. The US, Japan, the World Bank, and the ADB did promise to
restore foreign aid and loans to levels rivalling the peak years of Marcos’s rule.
For a while they did, and foreign investment also picked up. Coca-Cola
started building its largest plant in the world in Luzon. During 1988–89, the
economy grew at more than six percent a year, as it recovered from the Mar-
cos trough. By l989, World Bank president Barber Conable was already
describing the Philippines as “by far the best performer of the seventeen
heavily indebted countries.”
But this celebration turned out to be premature. Obviously things might
have turned out worse: Ferdinand Marcos might have lived longer, or one of
his coup attempts might have succeeded, plunging the country into civil war.
Corazon Aquino miraculously survived six coup attempts from l986 to 1992,
including several that were directed from Marco’s hangout in Hawaii. Beyond
that, however, the post-Marcos “Yellow Revolution” turned out to be almost
as overrated as the PCGG’s Marcos treasure hunt.
By 1991, the recovery had run out of steam: Real per capita incomes
grew at less than one percent a year from 1991 to 2003, and real incomes for
the vast majority failed to grow at all.This was partly due to unforeseen fac-
tors like bad weather, earthquakes, floods, volcanoes, the 1997–98 Asian finan-
cial crisis, terrorism, President Estrada’s corruption scandals in the late 1990s,
and the fact that from 1992 on, the US, the World Bank, the ADB and pri-
vate banks, were much less generous than they had been with Marcos.
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84 BLOOD BANKERS
crucial imperative is simply the ability to enforce the law, developing an effi-
cient, independent judiciary and police force that are not for sale to the high-
est bidders. These institutions, in turn, would then be better able to protect
private and public property rights, outlaw private armies, and prevent officials
from stealing elections and dipping into the till.
The state’s administrative ineptitude is intimately connected to the debt
problem. In the 1990s, one key reason why the Philippines foreign debt con-
tinued to grow was the government’s inability to collect taxes. It has long
boasted the highest rate of tax evasion in Asia. This problem has also been
compounded by an extraordinary number of tax concessions, which have
precipitated a “race to the bottom” between the Philippines and other Asian
countries competing for foreign investment. The Philippines now has the
lowest tax yield per dollar of national income in Asia, twenty to fifty percent
below the average yields of the “Asian tigers.”This belies the simple-minded
“supply-sider” notions of a negative relationship between tax yields and eco-
nomic development; all of these higher-tax countries have substantially out-
performed the Philippines over the last thirty years. Financing the public
deficit—including the huge interest bill for the public foreign debt—was a
key source of the Philippines’s debt troubles; if it had simply achieved the
same average tax yield as, say, Indonesia during this period, the Philippines
debt burden would have been cut by more than half.
This problem of tax administration was compounded by twenty-one
years of dictatorship and a parade of corrupt administrations, most recently
that of President Estrada. By now, tax resistance is deeply engrained in Fil-
ipino attitudes. No one expects to go to jail for tax evasion—the fifteen tax
amnesties attempted in the last thirty years have basically been ignored by tax-
payers.Tougher tax enforcement also faces enormous political opposition, not
only from the elites, but also from many professional and white-collar work-
ers who have gotten used to skirting taxes. In 1996, when President Fidel
Ramos briefly succeeded in boosting tax collections, his approval rating fell
even lower than those of Marcos in 1986.100 In 2001, less than sixty percent
of those who were supposed to file income tax returns did so, and businesses
evaded up to forty percent of VAT taxes. All told, the government’s annual
losses to evasion now average $5–8 billion—two-thirds more than its entire
budget deficit.101 As for the Marcos family, as of 2003, they had still not paid
their own substantial tax arrears in an “ill-gotten gains” case where the final
court ruling was issued in 1999.102 Lucio Tan and other key Marcos cronies
are also facing huge unpaid tax liabilities. This kind of impunity, on top of
decades of mismanagement and corruption, has produced an “ethical deficit”
that conventional neoliberal “reforms” have no way of handling.
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DIRTY DEBT
86 BLOOD BANKERS
LANDLESSNESS
Of course the other major unresolved problem in the Philippines is land
ownership. Every Philippine president since Magsaysay in the early 1950s
Chapter 02 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 87
(under guerilla pressure) has made bold promises about land reform that were
later broken.When Marcos declared martial law in l972, his very first prom-
ise was that land reform would become the “cornerstone of our new society.”
He hired Ray Prosterman, an Oregon University law professor who had
designed land tenure programs for the CIA and the US State Department in
South Vietnam (l969), Egypt (l970s), and El Salvador (l980).The result was no
more successful than these other “partial” land reforms. By the time Marcos
left office, only 50,000–70,000 hectares had been redistributed to small farm-
ers, out of 10.3 million hectares of private arable land and 17 million hectares
of public land.106
Unfortunately President Aquino was not much more successful. In 1986,
she also promised that land reform would be the centerpiece of a “genuine
economic revolution,” and renewed a long-standing commitment by her own
family, the Cojuangcos, to make its own 6,431-hectare Hacienda Luisita in
Tarlac—the country’s largest sugar plantation—“a model of reform.” Like
Marcos,Aquino hired Ray Prosterman. In 1988, she signed a law that created
the “Comprehensive Agrarian Reform Program (CARP), ” which subsumed
all of Marcos’s earlier programs.
Unfortunately, Corazon Aquino’s new law was watered down by the
landlord-dominated Congress. By the end of Corazon Aquino’s first term in
1992, the amount of true land reform was very limited. Her land reform
administrators claimed to have transferred nearly a million hectares from 1988
to 1992. But half of this came from less-productive public lands, and less than
two percent of it was compulsory. In fact, many landlords seized the chance
to sell less-desirable land to the government at inflated valuations. Corazon
Aquino’s own Agrarian Reform secretary was fired for taking advantage of
this loophole.
In other cases, such as Corazon Aquino’s own Hacienda Luisita, fancy
stock ownerhip schemes and lease-back arrangements left the same big land-
holders and their families in control. None of the large private holdings, like
Eduardo Cojuangco’s 4,000-hectare orchard in Negros Occidental his many
other holdings on Tarlac, Palawan, Agusan del Sur, Bukidnon and Davao del
Sur, Marcos crony Don Antonio Florirendo’s 5,212-hectare banana planta-
tion, the huge holdings of former Agricultural Secretary Roberto, or, for that
matter, Corazon Aquino’s Luisita, were touched. Instead, CARP became a
kind of stalking horse for the World Bank’s new “market-oriented” approach
to land reform.107 This approach borrowed freely from land reform’s roman-
tic rhetoric, like giving “land to the tiller.” But what it really boiled down to
was a combination of (1) privatizing state land holdings, (2) actually cutting
back on the government’s budget for private land reform, (3) prolonging the
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88 BLOOD BANKERS
Furthermore, at the very top, the large plantations are still run by the
same families that ran them at the end of World War II—the Cojuangcos,
Aranetas, Lopezes, Zobel del Ayalas, Laurels, Arroyos, Yulos, Gregorios, Sys,
Tys, Sorianos, Sebastians, and Vilars, plus a few Marcos nouveaus like Floriendo,
Tan, and Enrile, and foreign investors like Guthrie, Firestone, Del Monte, Cas-
tle & Cooke, and Sumitomo.At the bottom of the pile are four million land-
less families—twenty-one million of the country’s poorest people, including
seventy percent of rural workers, two-thirds of whose families earn less than
$150 per month.
Nor did the Philippine’s performance on land reform improve under
President Joseph Estrada or his successor, Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. CARP
got another six-year extension, but it was on its last legs. The average land
transfers in 1999–2002 fell by more than fifty percent, compared with the
Ramos admnistration, and under Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s new administra-
tor Braganza, they hit the lowest level since Marcos. Transfers of public land
and voluntary dispositions accounted for more than eighty-five percent of the
total. Meanwhile, big landlords like the Cojuangcos, Floriendo, Corazon
Aquino, and Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s husband maintained their positions.
As of July 2002, only 3.4 million of the Philippines’s 15.9 million families
owned land other than their own residences, and of these, only 380,000 fam-
ilies, 2.4 percent of the total, had acquired any of this land through the Philip-
pine government’s fifty-three-year-old “land reform” program.111
So, after all these years, is there still any hope for genuine, redistributive
land reform in the Philippines? Interestingly, the issue is no longer a techni-
cal one. After decades of criticizing land reform strategies, even mainstream
economists have started to recognize that asset transfers in general, and redis-
tributive land reforms in particular, can have huge social value. First, even on
the grounds of economic efficiency, under conditions of capital shortage and
surplus labor, farm productivity tends to be inversely proportionate to farm
size; in other words, contrary to the traditional defenders of large plantations,
small plots can be very efficient, so long as they are supported by market infra-
structure and the enforcement of small-owner property rights.112 Second, as
even the World Bank admitted in the late 1980s,“A genuine, widespread land
reform could do much to alleviate poverty” by raising the incomes of rural
families, usually the poorest in developing countries.113 Third, it is also now
recognized that landlessness has many harmful side effects. It conspires with
poverty and ignorance to keep population growth high. And that, in turn,
aggravates the land shortage—a vicious cycle. Without private savings, land,
or social security programs, large families are one of the few ways that rural
workers can provide for their old age—assuming their children support them.
The low incomes associated with landlessness also stifle the development of
strong domestic markets. By increasing rural incomes, on the other hand, land
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90 BLOOD BANKERS
THE LEGACY
Today, nearly two decades after Marcos caught his last flight to Hawaii,
the Philippines’s democratic trajectory and its economic basis are in deep
trouble. The country is still battling all of the same old deep-rooted social
problems: debt, tax evasion, landlessness, crime, child labor, sexual exploita-
tion, militarism, and violations of basic human rights. Corruption is still a
national sport, if a little more decentralized than it was under Marcos. In Jan-
uary 2001, Joseph Estrada, yet another kleptomaniacal president, had to be
removed from office, although his peculations were trivial compared with
Ferdinand Marcos’. At least Estrada went off to jail quietly without murder-
ing thousands of political opponents.115
Meanwhile, except for its patriarch, the Marcos clan has experienced
something of a comeback. Ferdinand Marcos died of a heart attack in Hawaii
in September 1989. With the help of US defense attorney Gerry Spence,
Imelda Marcos was acquitted in 1990 after a three-month criminal trial in
New York.Apparently the jury bought her story that Ferdinand Marcos alone
was responsible for all the stealing and repression. Imelda Marcos, her son Fer-
dinand Marcos Jr., and her two daughters Imee Marcos-Manotoc and Irene
Araneta-Marcos, as well as Eduardo Cojuangco, Roberto Benedicto, and
other leading cronies, were permitted to return home in the early 1990s, and
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92 BLOOD BANKERS
they have used their wealth to regain substantial political and economic
power. In 1998, Imelda Marcos was convicted and sentenced to twelve years
in another criminal case in Manila, but that verdict was overturned on tech-
nical grounds in October 1998 by the ever-scrupulous Philippines Supreme
Court. In May 1999, Imelda Marcos was received warmly by President
Estrada at Malacanang Palace, where she received an award as one of the
Philippines’s “Twelve Outstanding Mothers.”
Imelda Marcos still faces numerous criminal and civil lawsuits, and her
friend Estrada is gone. But she is determined to clear her name and have Fer-
dinand Marcos’s cryogenically preserved body interred with full honors in
Manila’s Heroes Cemetery. Until then, it rests at Marcos’s ancestral mansion
in the province of Illocos Norte, where Ferdinand Marcos Jr. was elected gov-
ernor in 1998. Imee Marcos-Manotoc, Imelda Marcos’s oldest daughter, was
elected to represent Illocos Norte in Congress, where she joined Corazon
Aquino’s son Benigno Aquino III, and Juan Ponce Enrile Jr., the son of Sen-
ator Juan Ponce Enrile—Marcos’s family lawyer, former defense minister, and
Estrada’s staunch defender. In September 2001, the schoolchildren in Ilocos
Norte celebrated the twenty-second anniverary of Marcos’s death by compil-
ing pictures of him and collecting stories from their grandparents on his
“greatness,” which they presented as a gift to Imelda Marcos. In 2002, she
reportedly received a $40 million cash settlement for her equity in just one
of more than two dozen crony companies.116 As of 2003, however, she still
claims that she has no money to pay the 9,539 human rights victims who
won a $1.97 billion judgment against Ferdinand Marcos’s estate in Hawaii in
1995. Indeed, she was still being sued by the estate of tobacco heiress Doris
Duke, for a $5 million bail payment that Duke posted in Imelda Marcos’s
New York trial.117
As for the Marcos loot, the family’s henchmen have successfully defended
almost all of it against the Philippine government’s rather clumsy reclamation
efforts, aided by a hefty dose of stonewalling from bank regulators in Switzer-
land, Liechtenstein, and the US. In a fine touch of irony, in 2001–03, the
Philippines was placed on a blacklist of “noncooperating countries” by the
OECD’s Financial Action Task Force, a Paris-based organization that pro-
motes “anti-money-laundering” laws.
Meanwhile, the Philippines is still combating one of Southeast Asia’s few
remaining left-wing movements, the CPP-NPA, which has had more than
nine thousand rebels in the bush for at least twenty-five years and has recently
been added to the US’s growing list of international “terrorist” organizations.
Another 10,000–12,000 rebels are raising hell in southern Sulu’s archipelago,
fighting for two radical Islamic factions that also have purported ties to
“global terrorism”—as well as numerous long-standing grievances.118
Chapter 02 9/22/03 8:22 AM Page 93
0
1972 1976 1980 1984 1988 1992 1996 2000
94 BLOOD BANKERS
in real per capita incomes from 1972 to 2001 for five key East Asian coun-
tries. Not only has the Philippines’s income growth been practically nil, but
relative to countries like Korea, Malaysia, and Indonesia, its economy has
become almost miniscule.
As for the US, the Philippines’s colonial stepfather, throughout the 1990s
it agonized over the loss of its two largest military bases outside North Amer-
ica—Clark Air Force Base and Subic Bay—plus some twenty other Philip-
pine bases in the wake of Marcos’ ouster. In September 1991, in perhaps the
country’s most authentic “declaration of independence” ever, the Philippine
Senate, responding to overwhelming popular demand, rejected a proposed
ten-year extension of these bases.This punished the US not only for decades
of unwavering support for Marcos, but also for having secretly quartered hun-
dreds of nuclear weapons at the bases, sanctioning the original creation of the
vast “sex-ploitation” industry to service its troops, and refusing to clean up
after thousands of tons of toxic waste that had been quietly dumped into
Subic Bay.
However, even before the events of September 11, a May 2001 Rand
strategy study, authored by a key advisor to President George W. Bush, con-
cluded that the Philippines was still an essential US “forward base.”123 So in
May 1999, under great pressure, the Philippine Senate approved a new Visit-
ing Forces Agreement, that permitted the US military to return under certain
conditions. In the wake of September 11, the US seized on the opportunity
to open a new front in its new global war on terrorism, offering to send
troops and $100 million in military aid. This made many Filipinos uncom-
fortable, not only because of all the past transgressions, but also because it
threatened to upset delicate peace negotiations with the rebel groups.124
Apparently, President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo did not have the stomach
to say no. After all, the US was her country’s oldest ally, largest creditor and
trading partner. Her own military was getting restless, and many of her elite
friends longed for the “social security” and cash provided by the Americans.
So in December 2001, she welcomed back a starter force of 150 Special
Forces and 450 other troops. Officially, they came just to “assist” the Philip-
pine Army in fighting “terrorists.” Those who knew a little history recalled
that the US military and its local constabulary have been hunting such rebels
in the Philippines more or less continuously since the late 1890s.125
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C HA PT E R T H R E E
FUNNY MONEY
96 BLOOD BANKERS
ic collapse and a civil war, Venezuela was still paying the price for its debacle of the
1980s.When I first visited, the country was widely viewed as a model of development
and democracy, and such calamities would have been unthinkable.What happened?
The problem was not really the sheer size of Venezuela’s debt—other countries had
endured much larger absolute debt burdens without experiencing such consequences.
Rather, the mismanagement of Venezuela’s foreign debt was one of the main factors
responsible for the derailment of its political and social system. And that mismanage-
ment, in turn, was largely due to the avaricious behavior of its “rentier” elite and “Wild
West” First World bankers.Those bankers and members of the elite who were quick to
blame all Venezuela’s troubles on Chávez’s “irresponsible” policies and “corrupt poli-
cies” really needed to purchase a very large mirror.
On my flight from New York, I sat next to a woman who’d been a close advisor
to Carlos Andres Perez, Venezuela’s president in the mid-1970s and again in the
l990s. With her help, I was later introduced to several bankers and former officials,
including a former Central Banker and a fellow whose job it had been to “audit”
Venezuela’s foreign debt. By piecing together their stories, with a little sleuthing of my
own, I discovered that the advisor had put me on a trail to solving the Venezuelan enig-
ma. Ironically, the trail led right back to her boss. . . .
FUNNY MONEY 97
unlike all other major debtors,Venezuela had paid off its entire foreign debt.2
As of 1979, it still had the continent’s lowest level of foreign debt service and
its second highest per capita income level, with rich farms, great tourism
potential, and vast quantities of oil, iron ore, bauxite, hydroelectric power, oil
shale, coal, gold, and diamonds. In the 1970s,Venezuela was one of just four
Latin American countries officially designated as “upper-middle-income” by
the World Bank. It also boasted one of the best income distributions in Latin
America.3 The founder of OPEC was Venezuelan;Venezuela’s oil reserves, the
sixth largest in the world, have enough oil to last more than a hundred years
and still account for more than eighty-five percent of its merchandise
exports.4 Its farms and non-oil industries suffered from the “oil disease;” for
decades, they remained heavily protected, not very efficient, and penalized by
a strong bolivar. But many Venezuelans believed that the country’s natural
wealth relieved the country of the need to worry so much about competi-
tiveness in other sectors.
From l939 until the late l970s,Venezuela’s Central Bank was also relatively
independent and well behaved.The bolivar was Latin America’s strongest cur-
rency, and inflation was held below US levels. For a while in the 1970s, the
country was even rich enough to make loans to its neighbors, to help with
the cost of importing oil. Beginning with investments by Shell and Standard
Oil in the l920s, Venezuela had also been relatively hospitable to foreign
investment. Indeed, for a time back in the l950s, Venezuela had outpaced
Panama as the leading Western Hemisphere tax haven. Multinational compa-
nies like Ford and GE set up more than five hundred offshore “base compa-
nies” in Caracas to park profits and minimize taxes. A US attorney who spe-
cialized in these Venezuelan shell companies recalled that, as of l956,Venezuela
actually had the freest capital markets in Latin America:
98 BLOOD BANKERS
to l979, and again from 1989 to 1994, the country went on a spending spree.
Its foreign debt grew from $2.8 billion in 1973 to $24 billion in 1979, and
then continued rising to more than $38 billion by 1983. The debt’s growth
funded huge projects like the Guri Dam, the Caracas Metro, and many less
sensible ones—including a $3 billion food subsidy program that was riddled
with graft, a $1 billion hotel project in the middle of a swamp, and billions of
giveaway “loans” to the private sector. The size of the state bureaucracy
tripled.6
On the other hand, even as it was accumulating its foreign debt,Venezuela
also started parking huge amounts of government assets abroad. Thus, in the
mid-1970s, it accumulated more than $10 billion in foreign assets in foreign
deposits controlled by the Central Bank, Petroleos de Venezuela (PVDSA), the
state oil company, and Fundo Investimentos de Venezuela (FIVEN), an insti-
tution that Andres Perez created in l975 to stockpile five percent of oil rev-
enues.7 Effectively, his government did a massive “back-to-back” loan, invest-
ing billions abroad with foreign banks that, in turn, loaned the funds right
back to Venezuela’s government. Of course, the banks liked this arrangement
because the country paid three percent higher interest on all its borrowings
than it earned on its own assets. But many observers at the time wondered
why the country didn’t just reduce its foreign borrowing and use its huge pile
of foreign assets to finance its own operations. Defenders of this curious,
simultaneous borrow-and-lend policy claimed that it enhanced creditworthi-
ness and controlled misspending. However, this rationale ignored all the mis-
spending that was going on.8
So the ‘back to back’ policy made little sense-unless one credited the
more concrete explanation suggested to me by a Panamanian private banker.
He had worked at SBC/UBS’s Panama City subsidiary in the mid-l970s, just
when Venezuela was borrowing heavily and Andres Perez’s new Fundo
Investimentos de Venezuela (FIVEN) was placing billions of dollars in foreign
bank accounts. He explained that the main reason for Venezuela’s simultane-
ous borrow-and-lend policy was really quite simple: It provided magnificent
corruption opportunities for Venezuela’s senior officials and the handful of
influential bankers who serviced them.“You think it’s an accident that Andres
Perez is the richest politician in Latin America?” he grinned.According to the
banker, Fundo Investimentos had invested several hundred million dollars
with SBC/UBS in l976, which loaned the funds right back to Venezuelan
government agencies. But not all the interest on these deposits found its way
home. According to the banker, he knew personally of a deal where 1/4 per-
cent, or more than $2 million a year, was diverted into the accounts of
Cayman Islands companies at SBC’s Zurich office, accounts that belonged to
senior officials at Fundo Investimentos and Andres Perez himself. Another
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FUNNY MONEY 99
SBC-Panama banker confirmed that FIVEN had given SBC/UBS more than
$300 million in deposits in the mid-l970s. He also confirmed that the
Venezuelan government was SBC/UBS-Panama’s leading customer, that “it
was common to reward senior officials for such deposits,” and that similar
games had also been played with PDVSA’s idle oil dollars.9
SOWING
At the very least, this peculiar borrow-and-lend policy fooled a lot of
“debt experts,” who believed that the existence of all the foreign assets made
Venezuela’s net foreign debt quite manageable—even trivial. As late as l981,
Venezuela was still widely regarded as a very low-risk country. The World
Bank declared that the country had become too wealthy to be eligible for its
concessional “International Development Assistance” loan program. In
December l981, Professor William R. Cline, a noted Johns Hopkins econo-
mist and one of America’s most prominent debt experts, issued a 135-page
study of Venezuela’s foreign debt. His key finding was that its estimated $21
billion gross foreign debt was “relatively light”—both Mexico and Brazil had
much worse ratings on the “Frank-Cline Rescheduling Risk Indicator.” Since
Venezuelan agencies owned more than $15 billion in foreign assets, the coun-
try’s entire net foreign debt was supposedly only $6 billion.10 Cline conclud-
ed that the country had “a large, unused capacity for carrying external debt.”
According to him, it could easily take on an extra $12–20 billion in loans
without even flinching.11
In December 1982,Arturo Sosa assumed office as Venezuela’s new finance
minister. An experienced banker in his late fifties, Sosa had also served as
finance minister in the “Junta Gobierno” that succeeded Perez Jimenez in
1958. He was a close friend of such prominent international bankers as
Morgan’s Tony Gebauer, Chase’s Francis Mason, and Citibank’s William
Rhodes.12 He could sense that an economic crisis was brewing in the whole
region. Mexico, Brazil, and Argentina had already experienced credit crunch-
es that year, and investors were raiding Venezuela’s Central Bank for up to
$100 million a day in flight dollars, anticipating a devaluation. It became crit-
ical for Sosa to know the exact size of Venezuela’s foreign debt, in order to
project how much interest Venezuela would have to pay in the next few
months and whether or not he would have to devalue the currency or bor-
row more money to service it.
Unfortunately, the true size of the debt was completely unknown,
notwithstanding Professor Cline’s expert study.The debt situation was also a
political hot potato. Presidential elections were scheduled for December l983,
and Sosa’s party, the Social Christian (COPEI) Party, wasn’t eager to devalue
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 100
the bolivar, which had been stable for many years. Importers, domestic banks,
and companies had accumulated heavy private foreign debts as the bolivar had
become more and more overvalued, without hedging these bets.They had a
strong stake in postponing devaluation as long as possible because their
incomes were in bolivars and the interest on the loans had to be paid in dol-
lars. Meanwhile, the political clout of non-oil exporters had been weakened
by years of oil wealth. Since l979 the economy had experienced four years of
stagnation, and there was also fear that a devaluation would worsen it.
Furthermore, President Luis Herrera Campins, claimed that Venezuela was
already mortgaged to the hilt when he took office in l979, and Luis Ugueto,
Sosa’s predecessor, maintained that the debt had not really grown at all since
then. Andres Perez’s Acción Democratica Party (“el ADecos”) ridiculed these
claims, but no one really knew for sure.13 As the leading newspaper El
Universal commented:“The Government doesn’t know how much each pub-
lic-sector entity owes to foreign banks; it doesn’t know when interest is due,
much less amortization.Venezuela’s international accounts are in an incredi-
ble state of chaos.”14
Arturo Sosa’s first step was to do something that Luis Ugueto had never
bothered to do. He telexed the Bank for International Settlements (BIS) in
Geneva, which keeps track of international lending, and requested a list of all
debts that foreign banks claimed against Venezuelan borrowers. Amazingly,
Venezuela didn’t have a list of its own public foreign debts or the banks that
had supplied them. Or rather, the Central Bank, the Comptroller, and the
Treasury each had a different list.
The BIS’s response to Sosa’s request was shocking—a thirty-seven foot
long telex.When Sosa added up the numbers, he discovered to his horror that
the banks were claiming $27 billion in loans, one-third more than anyone had
anticipated. Even worse, half of them were due in a year, and one-third were
due in ninety days. If the banks pulled their credit lines,Venezuela would run
out of cash almost over night.Among major debtors, only the Philippines and
Mexico could claim anything like this blind dependency on short-term debt.
The irony was that with all its oil wealth, comparative political stability,
democratic system, and history of regular payments,Venezuela really should
have been Latin America’s best credit risk.Yet here the country was, funding
itself with short-term papers at extraordinary interest rates—the equivalent of
going to a loan shark.The interest rates paid to foreign banks by Venezuela in
l981–82 were higher than those paid by any other developing country—at
least 20–30 percent above those paid by Argentina, Brazil, or Mexico.
So here we have another example of Venezuela’s exceptionalism—appar-
ently Venezuela was unusually inept at negotiating with its foreign bankers. But
this was just its own peculiar way of reconciling deeply inconsistent, political-
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 101
In late l982, as the foreign banks started shutting down their credit lines in
Latin America, Venezuela’s short-term debt—eighty percent of which was
owed by “autonomous” agencies—became a transmission belt for the debt
crisis. In January 1983, several banks withdrew from Venezuelan syndications
when the CVF missed several interest payments.Then Sosa discovered, to his
horror, that Banco Industrial de Venezuela owed more than $600 million in
short-term notes that had to be rolled over every night by the banks. “This is
a grenade hanging around my neck,” he told President Herrera Campins. “If
BIV’s foreign creditors won’t roll the debt, it will bring down the whole
economy.” Eventually the “short-term” debt had to be converted into a long-
term debt that Venezuela is still servicing in 2003.
The confusion was even worse for Venezuela’s private foreign debt.
Before l983,Venezuela had neither exchange controls nor debt registration, so
private bankers came and went freely.The country became the world’s third-
largest flight capital market—courtesy of a bizarre combination of policies
that gave investors strong incentives to overstate their foreign debts and take
money out of the country. So the true size of Venezuela’s legitimate private
debt will probably never be known, because of the huge amount of fraud.
What is clear is that there were remarkable incentives to decapitalize the
country. Until Sosa devalued the bolivar in February 1983, it had been pegged
at 4.3 to the dollar since the early l970s. After l979, it had become seriously
overvalued—dollars were artificially cheap. So investors and multinational
companies began to move huge quantities of dollars abroad, including $890
million during the three weeks just prior to Sosa’s February l983 devalua-
tion.23 According to a senior Chase Manhattan private banker, part of this
moved because of a tip from one of her “very best clients”:“I came back from
Venezuela knowing that the February 1983 devaluation was coming a week
early, because the head of Venezuela’s Central Bank was my client. Naturally
we told the rest of the bank and other clients.We made a killing.”24 Central
Bank governors were not the only ones to engage in such practices. So did
many finance ministers, who often maintained bank accounts in New York,
London, and Switzerland for just this purpose.
Actually, one of Venezuela’s most colorful Central Bank heads at the time,
Leopoldo Diaz-Bruzual (“El Bufalo”) had long opposed devaluation. In
February l982, just after Mexico’s devaluation, he hit the roof when he
discovered that Citibank’s foreign exchange traders had been mounting spec-
ulative attacks against the bolivar, offering Venezuelans twenty-two percent
returns if they traded bolivars for dollars. Diaz-Bruzual summoned the man-
ager of Citibank’s Caracas branch to his office and threatened to cancel
Citibank’s banking license.“What are you doing, trying to drain us of money
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 105
to make a few million dollars for your trading desk?” he raged. For a while
the speculation eased.
Diaz-Bruzual later claimed that by the fall of l982, he had come to favor
devaluation and higher interest rates, but was opposed by President Herrera
Campins. To be fair, at the time, devaluation was also opposed by the IMF,
most bankers, and many leading economists, including Columbia University’s
eminent Nobel laureate, Professor Robert Mundell, who argued that since
most of Venezuela’s exports were tied to the dollar, devaluation would only
boost inflation. In hindsight, this typical monetarist position overlooked the
many beneficial impacts of devaluation on imports, non-oil exports, and cap-
ital flight. But as Diaz-Bruzual said, “There are always good prophets for the
past. . . . Remember, some foreign banks were still lending to us in December
1982!”25
As long as the artificially strong bolivar lasted, there were innumerable
ways to profit from it. Combined with CVF loan guarantees, it made foreign
loans cheaper and even more abundant than domestic ones.26 Many dollar
loans went directly to the borrowers’ offshore accounts, a much safer invest-
ment than putting them into bolivar-denominated assets just prior to a deval-
uation.
Loans made without government guarantees were supposedly more
rational, and they had to carry a higher interest rate in order to compensate
bankers for this added risk. But after the l983 devaluation, the cost of repay-
ing these loans in bolivars rose sharply. Even though the banks had already
presumably been compensated for this higher risk by the higher interest rate
spreads that they received on these non-guaranteed loans, they successfully
pressured Venezuela to grant lucrative subsidies and bailouts to cover all these
private debts, retroactive to the period before they were contracted.This turned
out to be a rather common practice in developing countries. Following sharp
devaluations, similar “socialization” programs for private-elite debts were also
implemented under pressure from the banks in Mexico, Chile, Argentina,
Indonesia, and several other countries. Even Finance Minister Arturo Sosa
caved in on the issue. After all, his own investment bank, FINAVEN, had a
$300 million foreign debt that stood to benefit from the government’s social-
ization of private foreign debt.
Throughout l983, Diaz-Bruzual, who had once been an attorney for
SBC/UBS in Geneva, tried to block this government bailout of the private
foreign debt. He demanded information from all the banks on the flight assets
owned by their Venezuelan “borrowers” abroad—many of whom had just
absconded with the loan proceeds, leaving the government stuck with the
debts after they were nationalized. All the banks refused. He even got into a
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 106
against devaluation by their offshore flight dollars, and exchange risk was just
a normal part of international business that they were supposed to anticipate
and hedge against, without government insurance.“Why should we subsidize
this privileged group? Did workers get subsidies when import prices rose?”
Diaz-Bruzual argued.32 Other leading lawyers and economists also argued
that a huge portion of Venezuela’s foreign debt was simply fraudulent and
deserved to be repudiated outright.
Furthermore, in 1990, it was discovered that from l983 to l987, leading
RECADI officials had sold at least $6 billion in bogus import licenses, at a
time when Venezuela was struggling to service its debts. Provided in exchange
for bribes, these licenses entitled the holders to buy dollars at artificially cheap
prices. Ten senior officials were charged with corruption, including former
finance ministers Aizpurua and Hurtado, former Central Bank president
Mauricio Garcia, and President Jaime Lusinchi, who fled the country for
Costa Rica for five years, until the statute of limitations expired. Senior exec-
utives from Ford, Kraft, Kellogg, and Heinz, plus a former director of Born
Brothers, an Argentine commodity firm, who happened to be Argentina’s
finance minister at the time, were also charged with corruption.All told, more
than a hundred executives of foreign companies with plants in Venezuela were
forced to relocate in order to avoid prosecution. Ford Motors, for example,
ran its Venezuelan affiliate out of Aruba for several months.33
As for the true size of Venezuela’s debt, ultimately it owed more than
$32.1 billion in 1981 and $38.3 billion in l983, including $9 billion in private
debt.34 Compared with Professor Cline’s original estimate, this was a fifty-two
percent increase. Nor were Venezuela’s foreign assets anywhere near as large
as he had claimed.The country’s net debt was not $6 billion, but nearly four
times higher—$22–28 billion. Far from having “unused debt capacity,”
Venezuela was strapped.The country remained so throughout the l980s, even
while it faithfully continued to pay debt principal as well as interest. In
December 1988, during the waning days of Lusinchi’s administration,
Venezuela finally declared a moratorium on servicing its $20 billion public-
sector debt, something it hadn’t even done in the l930s.
Venezuelans still associated Andres Perez with good times. Surely, they felt, the
wily old social democrat would find a way to bring the boom back.
At his lavish inauguration at Caracas’s Teatro Teresa Carreño—construct-
ed during Andres Perez’s first term for $500 million, five times the original
bid—the audience of 2,400 dignitaries included US vice president Dan
Quayle, Spain’s Felipe Gonzalez, Nicaragua’s Daniel Ortega, Peru’s Alan
Garcia, Portugal’s Mario Soares, Cuba’s Fidel Castro, and former US president
Jimmy Carter.They listened respectfully as the dapper, ebullient, if not exact-
ly modest, newly elected president characterized his own return to power as
nothing less than “a great moment in Latin American history.”35
Carlos Andres Perez’s return to power certainly was a key turning point.
In the l970s, as we saw,Andres Perez was deeply involved in Venezuela’s exces-
sive foreign borrowing. By the early l980s, he was also one of Latin America’s
wealthiest politicians, after just one term in office. He then retired briefly to
his Venezuelan ranch and his homes in the US and the Dominican Republic,
continuing to serve as president of the Socialist International, an outspoken
proponent of debt relief, and an organizer of aid to Nicaragua, to help it
recover from its decade-long civil war. But by the late l980s, he was ready to
run again. He knew that his debt-heavy welfare-state approach to develop-
ment was no longer feasible. Even with all its oil wealth,Venezuela was tapped
out. And it was also more fashionable to join with other late-model Latin
American leaders like Mexico’s Carlos Salinas de Gortari, Brazil’s Fernando
Collor de Mello, and Peru’s Fujimori and become a born-again neoliberal.
Prior to the election, it would have been politically unwise for Andres
Perez to share his full intentions with the public. But as soon as he took office,
his belated conversion to neoliberalism was revealed. He quickly concluded
an agreement—unprecedented in Venezuelan history—with the IMF. On
February 16, 1989, the results were announced in the form of El Paquete—an
ice-cold neoliberal shower. In exchange for IMF loans and debt rescheduling,
Andres Perez agreed to lift Venezuela’s moratorium on debt service, launch an
aggressive new privatization program, deregulate financial markets, and
sharply downsize the Venezuelan state. He also agreed to devalue the bolivar
by 150 percent and let it float freely. He eliminated most restrictions on for-
eign investment—many of which he had pioneered in the 1970s. Finally,
effective immediately, Andres Perez removed all price controls for gasoline,
public transport, electricity, interest rates, and food.
One can argue that such reforms were directionally correct, in some
economist’s long-run dream state. But, in typical shock-therapy fashion,
Andres Perez introduced them into Venezuela almost overnight, without ade-
quate institutional preparation, as if the country already had adequate bank
supervision, security market regulations, and tax enforcement. It did not.
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 109
There was also no attempt to cushion the extraordinary social costs of the
program. In the short run, where the impoverished majority of Venezuela’s
inhabitants in the ranchos live and die, the results were devastating.
Soon after El Paquete was introduced, inflation and unemployment
reached their highest levels in Venezuela’s history. Real incomes for the bot-
tom half of the population dropped by more than twenty percent in six
months, and the incidence of poverty soared to more than forty percent. Less
than a month after Andres Perez’s inauguration, on February 27–28 there was
widespread rioting in Caracas—the worst in Venezuela’s history. Andres Perez
had to declare martial law, suspend civil liberties, and call in Venezuela’s long-
dormant army to quell the riot. To do so, the army used house-to-house
searches without warrants, massive arrests, curfews, press censorship, and sum-
mary executions.The “official” death toll of the riot, now remembered as the
Caracazo, was three hundred.The actual number may have been as high as two
thousand, with thousands more injured—a Latin American version of
Tiananmen Square. This was by far the worst debt-related riot in any Latin
American country, including Argentina’s riots in 2001–03.
Despite this inauspicious beginning to his second term, Andres Perez
received a warm welcome a year later when he visited the White House and
was greeted by President George H.W. Bush. He complimented Andres Perez
on his Venezuelan “Perestroika,” and commented in rather paternal tones:
I know this transition, with its difficult, short-term effects, has meant some
pain for the people of Venezuela. But it is the kind of new beginning that
will lay the foundations for future growth. It isn’t an easy path, but we’re
convinced that it is the only path to prosperity and better lives for all
Venezuelans. . . .36
AFTERSHOCKS
In fact, the damage done to the fabric of Venezuela’s democracy by
Andres Perez’s neoliberal shock program, on top of the previous decade’s
excessive borrowing, debt-financed corruption, and debt-induced stagnation,
was hardly “short-term” at all.The damage has continued well into the long-
term, with Venezuelans, as well as President George W. Bush, still dealing with
its side effects more than a decade later.
On February 4, 1992, after two more years of Andres Perez’s austere poli-
cies,Venezuela experienced its first attempted military coup in thirty years—
an effort led by a group of 133 disgruntled young military officers, including
an outspoken thirty-eight-year-old Army paratrooper named Hugo Chávez
Friás. The son of two school teachers who had sent him to Venezuela’s
Military Academy, Lt. Col. Chávez and his comrades had founded the
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 110
Because of his advanced age, Andres Perez was allowed to serve his sen-
tence under house arrest. He was freed in September 1996, but that was not
the end of his troubles. In April 1998, Andres Perez was ordered back under
house arrest, after being indicted on charges of having diverted $8 million in
misappropriated funds to joint accounts that he shared with Cecilia Matos at
Citibank, Republic National Bank in New York and Grand Cayman, BNP
and American Express Bank in Geneva, and the National Bank of the
Philippines.38 Venezuela’s attorney general also started extradition proceedings
against Matos in New York.
In December 1998, Andres Perez, seventy-six years old, was elected sen-
ator in his home state of Tachira, running on the “Renovation Party” ticket.
This freed him from house arrest and earned him a brief period of congres-
sional immunity. However, that was not to last. The forces of instability that
his policies had helped to unleash were about to come back to haunt him.
tax, with Venezuela’s Central Bank simply printing the money. This boosted
inflation to 116 percent in 1995–96, the highest rate in Venezuela’s history.
Meanwhile, the economy shrank by more than two percent, real wages and
real per capita incomes plummeted, and many bank depositors lost most of
their savings.
Investigations by Venezuelan prosecutors and its controller general later
disclosed a series of fraudulent loans, insider loans, and outright theft that
involved a large fraction of the $7.5 billion of financial aid that FOGADE and
the Central Bank had advanced to the banks in a vain attempt to keep them
afloat.42 There were cases where owners and senior bankers had literally made
off with bags of cash in company jets. Prosecutors issued eighty-three war-
rants for many of Venezuela’s most prominent business people, and more than
four hundred bankers and corporate directors fled the country.
Among those for whom warrants were issued were Gustavo A. Gómez
López, the former Chairman of Banco Latino, plus eleven of his former asso-
ciates at the bank; Fernando Araujo, President Caldera’s son-in-law, and a
director of the failed Banco Metropolitano; José Alvarez Stelling, president of
Banco Consolidato, part of Venezuela’s influential Vollmer Group; Orlando
Castro Castro, president of Banco Progresso, who was also later convicted in
New York of defrauding a Puerto Rican bank; José Bouza Izquierdo, former
president of Banco de Venezuela, who fled to Spain and was briefly detained
there; and Ricardo José Cisneros Rendiles, a leading member of the Cisneros
family, owners of Venezuela’s leading TV network Venevizión, the newspaper
El Nacional, DirectTV in Venezuela, Telcel, the grocery chain CADA, AOL
Latin American, Spaulding Sporting Goods, Spain’s Galerias Preciados depart-
ment store chain, Paternoster Square in London, and Pan-American
Beverages, one of the world’s top three bottlers, Coca-Cola’s key partner in
South America.43
President Caldera promised that any bankers implicated in fraud would
go to jail, but as of 2003, none of these people have served time or paid any
fines. In many cases, the country’s statute of limitations was permitted to
expire before fraud cases were brought; in others, the banks’ directors were
exonerated for technical reasons. In his 1999 campaign for a Constituent
Assembly to rewrite Venezuela’s constitution, Hugo Chávez made a huge
point of the judiciary’s seeming unwillingness to prosecute any of these
bankers for fraud. However, it turned out that his administration also played
games with justice when cash contributions were at stake. In 2001, thirty-
eight bankers were completely absolved of wrongdoing by an appeals court
in Caracas.44 Most of the loans they received from FOGADE were never
repaid. In the scandal’s wake, in November 1995, the IDB did grant Venezuela
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 114
the informal economy.48 While foreign banks were moving in, Venezuela’s
elite was moving out.The country lost more than $8 billion to flight capital
in 1995–98. On top of all this, its foreign debt reached $38 billion, with debt
service costing up to 10 percent of income each year.49
The only reason there were no more coup attempts under President
Caldera was that as soon as Hugo Chávez was released from jail in 1996, he
looked around and realized that in two short years there would be another
presidential election. Given the absolute mess that the ruling parties had made
with all their reforms and social adjustments, a coup was no longer neces-
sary—the masses were eager to throw the bastards out.
THE HARVEST
In the December 1998 presidential elections, former Lt. Colonel Chávez,
now the forty-four-year-old candidate of the “Movement of the Fifth
Republic” (Movimiento Quinta Republico or MVR), easily defeated seven
other candidates, capturing 57.4 percent of the vote.To the horror of the old
guard, including the corrupt leadership of the largest trade unions, he was
elected on a blatantly populist appeal, attacking “capitalism sauvage,” decrying
the country’s “predatory oligarchs,” accusing the Catholic Church’s hierarchy
of “not walking in the path of Christ,” and expressing admiration for Cuba’s
Fidel Castro. He promised to bring about a “Bolivarian revolution, ” resist
“uni-polar” US dominance, battle the corruption that he claimed was steal-
ing most of the nation’s oil wealth, reform the corrupt trade unions, increase
tax collections, and help the poor.
This was brave bonapartiste rhetoric, if not a very precise platform. Chávez
was nothing if not garrulous and personable,“the magician of the emotions,”
with a call-in radio program every Sunday called Alo Presidente, a taste for
baseball, red berets, five-hour speeches, and earthy charm; one of his favorite
stunts was to parade through Caracas, waving one of Simon Bolivar’s swords.50
His closest advisors were a grab-bag of political malcontents, who’d spent
years outside the system looking in. They also happened to include some of
the country’s best critical minds. Jose Vicente Rangel—a leading investigative
journalist, former congressman, and former presidential candidate—became
foreign minister, defense minister, and then vice president. Luis Miquilena, an
eighty-year-old activist and member of Venezuela’s Communist Party, who
spent five hard years in prison under the Pérez Jiménez dictatorship in the
1950s, became the minister of the interior and justice, and president of the
National Assembly. Manual Quijada, a lawyer who spent time in jail for a
coup attempt in the early 1960s, chaired the assembly’s effort to restructure
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 116
the courts. Retired Air Force Lt. Colonel Luis Reyes, who commanded the
Air Force squadron that led the November 1992 coup attempt, became infra-
structure minister. Another former guerilla, Dr. Ali Rodríguez Araque,
“Commandante Fausto,” became minister of mines and energy, and later,
OPEC’s secretary-general and PDVSA’s president. Conspicuously missing
from this group of jailbirds and left-wing intelligentsia were any “truly dis-
tinguished” economists or bankers—although cynics noted that, given the
track record of economists and bankers in Venezuela, that concept was ill-
defined.
For the moment Chávez decided to leave the Central Bank in the hands
of technocrats, to continue servicing the foreign debt, and to welcome foreign
investment rather than nationalize it. However, he soon showed a propensity
for thumbing his nose at the US, which also happened to be Venezuela’s largest
trading partner, creditor, and investor. In August 2000, on a tour of OPEC
countries, he became the first head of state to visit Iraq since 1991. He also
made stops in all the other OPEC countries, including Iran, Qatar, Indonesia,
Nigeria, Saudi Arabia, and Libya, where he described Muammar Khadaffi as a
“hero.” He signed a $1 billion deal to supply oil to Cuba at below-market rates
and spent long hours consulting, playing baseball, and singing songs with
Fidel. He called for the creation of the South American equivalent of NATO,
to defend against el gringos. He branded the US air war in Afghanistan as
“fighting terrorism with terrorism.” His defense minister kicked the US mil-
itary mission out of its Caracas offices, describing it as a “cold war anachro-
nism.” He refused to cooperate in Plan Colombia, the American effort against
Colombian drug-trafficking guerrillas, and denied the US access to
Venezuelan air space for purposes of conducting the drug war. He was also
accused by his increasingly angry opponents in the elite of harboring mem-
bers of Basque ETA terrorists, Arab terrorists, FARC terrorists, drug dealers,
and even al-Qaeda, although none of these charges were substantiated.51
In one of his oddest moments, in April 1999, Chávez wrote a letter to fel-
low Venezuelan Ilych Ramirez Sanchez (“Carlos the Jackal”), who was serv-
ing a life sentence for murder in a maximum security jail in France. Chávez’s
letter addressed him as “Distinguished Compatriot” and expressed solidarity
with Ramirez for “the cause and the mission.”52 (Ramirez was the son of Jose
Altagracia Ramirez, founder of the Venezuelan Communist Party, who had
once shared a cell with Interior Minister Miquilena, Chávez’s mentor.) This
correspondence certainly did not improve Chávez reputation in conservative
circles.
All such gestures must been emotionally satisfying, and they certainly
appealed to some of the President’s less thoughtful supporters. But they did
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 117
little to heal the divisions that had characterized Venezuelan politics when
Chávez assumed power in February 1999.
large estates and unproductive agricultural land, defined as any farm land that
was idle more than two years.
Meanwhile, Chávez paid special attention to the needs of his poorer con-
stituents. During its first three years, his administration focused on controlling
inflation because it understood that the poor were especially defenseless
against it. Until the sharp conflicts of 2002, the Chávez administration also
managed to make some progress on cutting unemployment, containing the
budget deficit, boosting oil revenues, and maintaining a steady, gradual deval-
uation of the bolivar. His administration also spent more on programs that
benefited the lower classes, like schools and hospital infrastructure, encourag-
ing 1.5 million delinquent kids to attend school, a new microcredit bank for
women, vaccinations, road maintenance, 135,000 new homes for low-income
people, and small business loans.
At first, many among Venezuela’s middle and upper classes—the top
twenty percent of the income ladder that received more than half the coun-
try’s income—had welcomed Chávez as an antidote for corruption and a vig-
orous alternative to the old moribund parties. Now they began to see him as
a threat to their prerogatives and an increasing irritation to Venezuela’s north-
ern allies.Whether they liked his policies or not, the objective reality was that
the resulting class conflict guaranteed that Venezuela’s economy would soon
become a battleground.
By the end of 2001, his approval ratings in opinion polls had dropped
from eighty percent to less than half.This coincided with the first organized
response from the ruling elite to Chávez’s reforms. On December 10, 2001,
thousands of protesters took to the streets of Caracas, in the first of four gen-
eral strikes over the following year.They were led by the Venezuelan Workers’
Confederation (CTV), the country’s largest trade union, and Fedecamaras,
Venezuela’s powerful Chamber of Commerce.
Meanwhile, there was also a new wave of capital flight, as Venezuelans
who still had liquid assets in the country voted with their wallets. From
November 2001 to February 2002, the Central Bank spent $7 billion trying
to defend the “crawling peg” exchange rate system that it had maintained
since 1997. In February, it finally gave up, and the bolivar fell twenty-four per-
cent against the dollar in one month.
But Chávez was determined to press ahead with his agenda. One of his
pet structural issues was the country’s national oil company, PDVSA.
Neoliberal analysts, the World Bank, and the US government, as well as many
investment bankers, had long been pressing Venezuela to privatize the oil
company. But Chávez had long complained that PDVSA was in fact already
a quasi-private fiefdom: a “state within a state” dominated by an avaricious
network of overpaid managers, union bosses, board members, and crony con-
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 120
tractors at home and abroad who bought and sold from the company on
insider terms, greased by hefty payoffs. PDVSA, the world’s second largest
state oil company, accounted for 80–90 percent of Venezuela’s exports, half
the government’s income, and a third of Venezuela’s official GDP. However,
until Chávez’s government, its executives had been free to decide what proj-
ects to fund, who to contract with, what prices to charge, and how much to
pay the government each year in royalties.According to Chávez, the result was
that more than eighty percent of PDVSA’s true profits had simply disappeared
into the pockets of the insider network—“the equivalent of fifteen Marshall
Plans.”58 Given his ambitious plans for social spending, that was simply no
longer acceptable.59
Furthermore, while Venezuela had played a key role in organizing OPEC
back in the 1960s, more recently it had taken a backseat role, partly to keep
the US—its main customer—happy. When Chávez took office in February
1999, crude oil was just nine dollars a barrel—a record low.This was less than
half the level, in real terms, of the 1950s oil prices and one-fifth the real level
that Venezuela had enjoyed in the early 1980s, before the debt crisis. By
September 2000, when Chávez convened a meeting of OPEC oil ministers
in Caracas and pushed for tighter quotas on oil production, the price exceed-
ed twenty-nine dollars.60 Chávez’s energy minister Ali Rodríguez become
OPEC’s new secretary-general, and took the lead in exhorting OPEC mem-
bers and non-OPEC producers like Russia and Norway to maintain strong
price levels.61
Meanwhile, Chávez started to gain control over PDVSA. In August 1999,
Robert Mandini, PDVSA’s president, was forced out after he resisted Chávez’s
plans to use more of the company’s profits for development projects. In the
next three years, Chávez changed PDVSA’s CEO five more times. In
February 2002, as the foreign exchange crisis was mounting, Chávez appoint-
ed Gaston Luis Parra Luzardo, a leftist economics professor, as CEO. He want-
ed to press ahead with new laws that increased the royalty paid by PDVSA to
the government on oil exports from sixteen to thirty percent, which required
a fifty-one percent government participation in all oil ventures. When
PDVSA’s existing board resisted the appointment, Chávez fired the entire
board of directors, installed his own slate, and then fired nineteen senior exec-
utives who had refused the pro-Chávez board’s instructions. Later that year, as
the social confrontation continued, his latest PDVSA president replaced five
thousand of the company’s forty thousand workers.
The White House also chimed in, declaring that “The details still are a little
unclear, but what we know is that the actions fomented by Chávez caused a
crisis.”63 The last time the US was so enthusiastic about a nondemocratic gov-
ernment in Venezuela was in the 1950s, when President Eisenhower stalwart-
Chapter 03 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 122
would survive the strike, the bolivar dropped another twenty-five percent,
Venezuela’s reserves dropped to less than $11 billion, and the Central Bank
was forced to close the exchange market for a week.68 In December 2002,
the State Department warned Americans to leave the country. Companies like
Ford, McDonalds, and Microsoft closed their local offices. Per capita income
had fallen to 1960 levels, and eighty percent of the population lives below the
poverty line, despite having three times the oil reserves of Mexico. Compared
with 1999, when Chávez took office, another 3.6 million Venezuelans had
fallen below the poverty line. To paraphrase the cynic, “[Chávez] must love
poor people; he made so many of them.”
Given the importance of Venezuela’s oil to the US and its war with Iraq
in 2003, the US suddenly tried to encourage a political settlement. But
Chávez did not find it easy to compromise. In February 2003, buoyed by the
failure of the latest general strike, he ordered the arrest of Carlos Fernandez,
Carmona’s successor at the Fedecamaras, on treason charges. The economy
was in ruins, the political outlook was uncertain, and many of those who
could afford to leave the country were doing so.
C HA PT E R F O U R
For what is the crime of burglarizing a bank, compared with the crime of
building one?
—Brecht
“What have you been up to, Jim? Morgan’s going crazy.” Jane Amsterdam, Man-
hattan Inc.’s editor at the time, wore her usual elvish grin.“Their ad guys just called.
They said, ‘We really like your magazine, but, you see, you’re doing this piece on the
bank.’They even sent someone to see the publisher. He has demanded to see the proofs,
but I took them home.You know, we’ve done stories on some pretty heavy hitters—
Trump, Boesky, Steinberg—but this is the most heat we’ve ever had.”
It was the spring of 1987, and I’d just completed an article for Jane’s magazine
about Tony Gebauer, a Morgan senior vice president who ran the bank’s South Amer-
ican operations during the 1980s debt boom. He’d just been sentenced to 3.5 years in
federal prison for stealing money from several private clients. My investigation had
turned up several interesting puzzles in the case, but at the time I had no idea why
Morgan had anything to fear from my story—it appeared to me to be just a straight-
forward example of “one bad apple gone wrong.”When I began to look closer, however,
Morgan bristled. Senior bankers were warned to keep quiet. One Morgan lawyer, an
old friend and neighbor, phoned to tell me that I should call off the hunt.Another Mor-
gan banker who was a friend of Jane Amsterdam’s husband told him that the bank was
indeed very nervous about the piece, and its ad agency lobbied hard to get the piece
killed. Naturally, blue-blood institutions like to protect their reputations, but if this case
were really as simple as it seemed, why all the beads of blue-blood sweat?
Unfortunately I didn’t have time to pursue my research in Brazil before the piece
ran as a cover story that May. But this case turned out to be a very good introduction
to the intricate sociology of bad lending, as well as to the limits of investigating the
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 128
debt/flight story from inside the US.There was indeed much more to Gebauer’s story
than met the eye. But to get it, I had to do more firsthand research in Brazil, Caracas,
London, Miami, Geneva, Panama, and Venezuela, interviewing most of Gebauer’s for-
mer “clients” in the process. I endured the loss of all my notes and money in a Rio
street robbery, and a nerve-racking undercover interview in a heavily guarded Rio pent-
house with a leading arms dealer whose personal office was only accessible through a
drop-down stairway to the floor below. I also passed several tense days in Bahia, where
some of Gebauer’s most powerful and unforgiving friends were headquartered.And even
after all this, I wasn’t able to do the sequel for Jane Amsterdam. Right after my piece
ran, her publisher fired her...
tem, before his release for good behavior in August 1988. But for Gebauer the
worst punishment was social excommunication.
After a lengthy investigation by Morgan and careful negotiations with the
US attorney, Gebauer pleaded guilty in October 1986 to four felony counts
involving bank fraud and tax evasion, on the basis of what prosecutors main-
tained was the unauthorized diversion of $4.3 million from four wealthy
Brazilians.The case seemed straightforward—a talented banker rises to a posi-
tion of authority and abuses his control over client accounts, a not uncom-
mon example of private bankers turning on their clients. All of the accounts
that Gebauer looted were easily mistaken for ordinary flight banking con-
duits—all were “hold-mail” accounts in the names of haven companies that
had never been properly reported to Brazil’s Central Bank or the IRS.2
From this angle, Gebauer’s case was special only because his fall was so
steep. By the age of forty, he was already one of only five senior vice presi-
dents in Morgan’s International Division. His colleagues and competitors
agree that by then he was “Mr. Brazil,” by far the best-connected American
banker in Brazil, which had the Third World’s largest debt. He had played a
crucial role in building Morgan’s $1.7 billion Brazil loan portfolio and syndi-
cating another $7.2 billion in loans to Brazil. He was also heavily involved in
lending to Venezuela, Ecuador, Chile, and Argentina. He advised Brazilian and
Venezuelan presidents and ministers, Federal Reserve chairmen, and World
Bank and IMF officials on credit policies. In late 1982, when Brazil was no
longer able to service its $92 billion debt,Antonio Delfim Neto, Brazil’s plan-
ning minister, picked Gebauer to restructure it. In l984, a Morgan spokesman
called him “the most highly esteemed banker in Latin America.”3 From 1970
to l983,Tony Gebauer was Morgan Guaranty’s largest single breadwinner and
was seriously considered for its presidency.4
Meanwhile, despite all this hard work, Gebauer maintained an even more
opulent lifestyle than that of his chairman, Lewis T. Preston.5 The Brazilian
press loved to spotlight Gebauer’s high living and colorful romances. In the
linear world of international banking, this stimulated much jealousy, but so
long as Gebauer brought home the bacon, no one in Morgan’s higher eche-
lons seemed to mind.
Gebauer was also unusual because he really did fall from bankers’
heaven—Morgan, the blue-blooded American bank, “the epitome of solidity
and sobriety,”“America’s classiest bank,” the fourth largest and most profitable
bank in the US. Until his retirement in l989, before he left to become presi-
dent of the World Bank, Morgan’s chairman Preston was widely regarded as
“the most respected banker in America.”6 The bank was especially proud of
the fact that its bankers were, if perhaps not very alegre,“fundamentally of good
character.”7 Bright young people, hired fresh out of elite schools, they resem-
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 130
The Gebauer case thus raises questions about the internal controls and
ethical standards at one of the world’s most prestigious banks. It also sheds
light on a darker side of Third World banking—the practice of cultivating
loans with illegal payoffs and insider deals.The fact is that Morgan Guaranty,
the world’s most profitable bank, depended for a substantial part of its profits
in the l970s and early l980s on Latin America in general and Brazil in par-
ticular, which depended on Gebauer, who depended on such practices.
going personality. He arranged interviews for him with Heinz Vithzthun and
Fred Vinton, two VPs in Morgan’s small Latin American group.They liked him,
but Walter Page, the head of Morgan’s International Division and its future
chairman, had doubts: “Do you think this guy will ever sell anything?”15 Of
course “selling” proved to be the very least of Gebauer’s problems.
After a brief honeymoon, Gebauer joined Morgan in November 1963 as
a trainee in “Latin America—West.” He visited Caracas several times in
l964–65, where Morgan’s representative let him run the shop.16 In l966, he
shifted over to the Brazil desk, reporting to John Porges, the head of the Latin
American Division.
FOUNDATIONS
One longtime Brazilian banker recalled that at that time Morgan’s posi-
tion in Latin America was “essentially nowhere.” Years earlier, it had been one
of the first US banks to do international banking. In the l880s, J. P. Morgan
Sr. acquired France’s Morgan et Cie and a third of London’s Morgan Gren-
fell, and in l908 the bank added Guaranty Trust Company, which had French,
Belgian, and UK branches. From l890 to l930, Morgan floated more Latin
American bonds than any other bank. But from the Depression until the
l950s, it had largely neglected Latin America. By l964, its entire Mexican
exposure was only $15 million, and its Brazilian exposure just $50 million.
Morgan’s Latin American group was run by people who were “not very
aggressive . . . bright but not outgoing. . . . [The head] would show up in Rio
and wait at his hotel for clients to call on him.” Of the group’s five bankers,
only Fred Vinton, the son of a longtime Citibank rep in Buenos Aires, had
ever lived in Latin America. Citibank, Chase, and Bank of Boston all had local
branches in Rio and São Paulo, but Morgan did not.17
Brazil was a risky place to do banking. Juscelino Kubitschek, Morgan’s
president from l955 to l961, embarked on an ambitious “Fifty Years in Five”
program, promoting industrialization and huge projects like Brasilia, the new
federal capital in the remote state of Goiás that was aptly described as “the
revenge of a Communist architect against bourgeois society.”18 Kubitschek’s
program produced five years of seven percent growth, unprecedented cor-
ruption, and the Third World’s largest debt—$2.54 billion by l960.That may
not sound like much nowadays, but it consumed forty percent of Brazil’s
export earnings. In l961, Janio da Silva Quadros, Kubitschek’s successor, con-
demned this debt in terms that later generations would fully understand:“All
this money, spent with so much publicity, we must now raise bitterly, patiently,
dollar by dollar and cruzeiro by cruzeiro. We have spent, drawing on our
future to a greater extent than the imagination dares to contemplate.”19
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 133
The April 1, 1964 coup that followed—”the worst April Fool’s joke
ever”—was led by General Humberto de Alencar Castello Branco, com-
mander of the Fourth Army in Recife. During World War II, he had served
with Brazil’s Expeditionary Force, which fought with the Allies in Italy. His
“trench buddy” there was Colonel Vernon A. Walters, the US “military
attaché” in Rio from September 20, l962 to l967, who would later be pro-
moted to lieutenant general for his accomplishments in Brazil. He went on
to serve as a senior CIA officer, the CIA’s deputy director from March 1972
to 1976, and Reagan’s UN ambassador in the 1980s. Colonel Walters spoke
fluent Portuguese and was also very close to General Emílio Garrastazu
Médici, head of Brazil’s Black Eagles military school during the 1964 coup,
military attaché to Washington (1964-65), head of Brazil’s CIA, the Serviço
Nacional de Informaçoes (SNI) from 1967 to 1969, and then Brazil’s presi-
dent, courtesy of the junta. During the coup, Castello kept both General Wal-
ters and US Ambassador Lincoln Gordon “very well informed of pre-coup
deliberations,” a US Navy “fast” Carrier Task Group was standing by offshore,
and six US Air Force C-135 transport planes with 110 tons of arms and
ammunition were also available in case there was any resistance.22 Fortunately,
the coup was almost bloodless.
Castello Branco was supposed to step down after a short period of house-
cleaning, but Brazil’s military developed an appetite for power—staying in
power from l964 to l985. At first, Castello turned the economy over to
Octavio Bulhões, an academic-cum-finance minister, and Roberto Campos,
a US-educated ex-Jesuit and former head of Brazil’s powerful National
Development Bank (BNDES), who became planning minister.23 Their reign
from April l964 to March l967 was the first in a series of rather disappointing
Latin American experiments with monetarism, the notion that controlling
the money supply is the sine qua non of economic policy. To fight inflation,
they reigned in credit, slashed spending (which drove money growth, because
the government financed itself by selling bonds to the banking system), and
opened the door to imports. They also eased restrictions on foreign invest-
ment, eliminated taxes on foreign profits, and outlawed strikes. Dozens of
labor leaders were jailed, and wages were frozen, even though inflation was
still raging at forty percent a year. But the regime was careful to protect
investors against inflation by indexing bonds and bank deposits. A new capi-
tal-market law also created Brazil’s first investment banks and provided the
country with “the most sophisticated company law in Latin America.” In
l965, in an attempt to control the money supply, Campos also created Brazil’s
first Central Bank and a National Monetary Authority.24
All these measures went down rather well with bankers and the US gov-
ernment. Regardless of who staged the coup, it soon became quite clear who
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 135
would pay for it.25 From l964 to l970, Brazil received more than $2 billion in
US aid, which made it the third largest aid recipient in the world.26 About
$900 million arrived in the first six months after the coup, and the US Trea-
sury paid seventy percent of the interest due on Brazil’s debt. In July 1964,
Brazil also signed another IMF agreement, and in the next three years, it
received $214 million in IMF loans, which had loaned Brazil nothing from
l959 to l964. Brazil also suddenly became the World Bank’s largest customer,
after never receiving any loans from 1950 to l965, as well as the largest bor-
rower of the IDB and the US EXIM Bank. From l964 to 1970, direct invest-
ment by US companies increased fifty percent.27 In January l967, the IMF
held its twenty-second convention in Rio, presided over by General Artur
Costa de Silva, a former war minister and Castello Branco’s successor.
Unfortunately for the majority of Brazilians living in poverty, most of this
aid went into paying for budget deficits, planning exercises, and capital-inten-
sive projects. Original Alliance for Progress objectives like “eliminating il-
literacy from Latin America by l970” and “income redistribution” got short
shrift.28 The real value of the minimum wage dropped by one-fourth from
l964 to l967, and malnutrition and infant mortality rose dramatically. Domes-
tic industry was hit by foreign competition and a recession at once, even as
the multinationals were getting cheap finance and lower taxes. Many foreign
investors also got “sweetheart” deals: Campos was especially generous to
Amforp, a US-owned utility, and in l965, American billionaire Donald Lud-
wig was allowed to buy an Amazon forest tract twenty percent larger than
Connecticut for $3 million. General Artur Golbery Couto de Silva, the mil-
itary’s “grey eminence,” later became president of Dow Chemical do Brasil
and a representative of Dow’s Banco Cidade. In the early 1960s, Golbery—a
top professor at the Escola Superior de Guerra, Brazil’s version of the National
War College, and the author of the seminal Geopolitica do Brasil—had used
CIA funding to launch the Institute for Research and Social Studies (Instituto
de Pesquisas e Estudos Sociais—IPES), the SNI’s precursor. Over the next two
decades, the SNI would employ more than fifty thousand people to spy on
and otherwise deal with “subversives” at home and abroad. Golbery later
served as head of the Casa Civil, and a key aid to President Geisel. Not sur-
prisingly, Dow Chemical got special permission for a new plant in Bahia.29
Soon, even nationalist critics started attacking Roberto Campos’s program
as a “pastoral plan” designed by Americans to eliminate domestic industry. He
became widely known as “Bob Fields,”“a full-time entreguista” (an intermedi-
ary for foreigners). In l964, a popular Rio bumper sticker read, “Enough of
intermediaries!—(US Ambassador) Lincoln Gordon for President!” In l966,
the US ambassador complained that US advisors were implicated in “almost
every unpopular decision concerning taxes, salaries and prices.”30
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 136
In October 1965, in the last free elections until l982, the military’s can-
didates for state governorships in Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais were de-
feated. Workers, students, and church organizers turned radical, and several
civilian leaders who had supported the coup, including Magalhães Pinto and
Carlos Lacerda, also pressed for new elections. There was a sharp increase in
capital flight; in 1966, Brazilians sent more money abroad than all the new
foreign investment and foreign aid brought in.31 The nationalists in the mili-
tary then began to treat the “internationalist” segments of the upper classes
harshly.They unleashed a spy operation to catch wealthy Brazilians with for-
eign accounts. In November 1966—the police, assisted by the SNI and under
the command of General Fiuza de Castro—raided the offices of Bernie
Cornfeld’s Swiss-based IOS flight capital operation in seven cities, arresting
thirteen salesmen and seizing files on ten thousand clients.32
All this set the stage for a hard-line backlash led by members of the mil-
itary, who believed that the castellistas were selling out to foreigners and were
not tough enough on subversives. In late l966, Castello Branco gave way to
the IMF’s favorite, General Costa de Silva. Political parties were consolidated
into a “majority” party, ARENA, and an official “opposition” party, the
PMB—known in the underground as the “yes” and “yes sir” parties. Many
opposition politicians, union leaders, and students were stripped of their civil
rights. In December 1968, when a federal deputy asked Brazilian women to
stop having sex with military officers until political repression ceased, the
army demanded that Congress lift the deputy’s immunity so he could be
prosecuted for “insulting the Armed Forces.” When Congress refused to do
so, Costa de Silva closed it, disbanded state assemblies and city councils, sus-
pended habeas corpus, and imposed press censorship.Arrests without warrant
and torture now became common, while elections were reduced to ratifica-
tions of the military’s “bionic” candidates.33
As for Roberto Campos, in March l967 he moved over to the private sec-
tor, giving way to a more dirigiste economic team. He never again exercised
much power, although he served as ambassador to England in the mid-1970s.
His l982 diary reads like a “Who’s Who” of prominent Brazilians and Amer-
icans.34 Tony Gebauer was listed there, but unlike some of his successors,
apparently Roberto Campos didn’t do his own private banking at Morgan.
The diary lists his accounts at Geneva’s Pictet et Cie and Trade Development
Bank, whose founder, Edmond Safra, also founded the Republic Bank of
New York and Safra Bank, and was an old acquaintance of Campos.35
By 1967, Brazil was well on its way to becoming a martial-law state.With
the support and guidance of the US government, a left-leaning, though dem-
ocratically elected, government had been vanquished, and a right-wing dic-
tatorship put in its place. Especially from 1968 until the mid-1970s, the level
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 137
the selections of many key political leaders, including several Brazilian presi-
dents.To influence elections, it sometimes used blatant propaganda, as in the
hard-fought 1989 presidential race between Luis Ignacio (“Lula”) da Silva
and Fernando Collor.37
In 2001–02, long after Joe Wallach had retired and Roberto Marinho had
passed the empire on to his sons, Globo’s misadventures in Internet and cable
investments and crushing foreign debts finally brought it down to earth.This
was not unlike the similar fate that befell its original partners at Time-Life,
now part of the AOL Time Warner conglomerate.The Marinho family’s esti-
mated wealth on the Forbes’s annual billionaire survey peaked at $6.4 billion
in 2000, coinciding with the Internet’s peak. By 2002 the Marinhos were
down to their last billion, barely eligible for a mention in Forbes.38
Even then, Globo was still trying to use its political influence as currency.
During the 2002 presidential race, in a move that must have made its origi-
nal partners turn in their graves, Globo for the first time supported the left-
wing candidate, who finally won on his fourth try for office. Evidently, hav-
ing backed the “system” that made Brazil the world’s largest debtor, Globo
was hoping for some government relief from its own crushing foreign debts.
Delfim Neto was as quick-witted as Campos, but most of his success was
due to a lack of ideology.As Delfim Neto said in l969,“I am not going to sac-
rifice development only to pass into history as someone who defeated infla-
tion at any cost.”40 He was the grand master of bureaucratic infighting, assign-
ing his “Delfim boys”—mostly University of São Paulo-trained
economists—to key positions in the government, where they operated a Flo-
rentine patronage system, keeping a running tally of favors owed to impor-
tant people.“I was in the office of [an important banker] when Delfim called.
He needed $5 million right away,” one banker recalled. “The only argument
was how to get it to him.We knew he’d make it up to us.”41 This network of
favors and influence earned Delfim Neto unusual longevity. He was Brazil’s
finance minister in l969–74, ambassador to France in l974–78, minister of
agriculture in l979, planning minister in l979–85, and even after civilian rule
returned in l985, an important behind-the-scenes leader in Congress, where
he also enjoyed immunity from prosecution. Among those responsible for
Brazil’s massive debt burden in the 1980s, only Tony Gebauer enjoyed similar
continuity in power.
In August 1969, General Costa de Silva died of a stroke, after learning that
his wife had helped deliver Brasilia’s telephone exchange contract to Erics-
son, a Swedish company that bribed its way all over Latin America.42 Vernon
Walter’s friend, General Emilio Médici (1969–74), then took over, and some
of Delfim Neto’s critics seized the opportunity to accuse Delfim Neto of cor-
ruption. But he was so popular with all his other “clients” that Delfim Neto
was soon reappointed. He promised Médici, echoing the grandiose
Kubitschek in the 1950s, “Give me a year and I will give you a decade.”
Meanwhile, from a national security standpoint, Médici was exactly what
Brazil’s US allies were looking for. He visited Nixon, Kissinger, and General
Walters in December 1971. In a meeting just two weeks later with Secretary
of State William Rogers, recorded in a transcript released by the National
Archives in 2002, Nixon described Médici in glowing terms:
Rogers: “Yeah, I think this Médici thing is a good idea. I had a very good
time with him at lunch and he . . .”
Nixon: “He’s quite a fellow, isn’t he?”
Rogers: “He is. God, I’m glad he’s on our side.”
Nixon:“Strong and, uh, you know . . . (laughs) . . . you know, I wish he were
running the whole continent.”
Rogers: “I do, too. We got to help Bolivia. He’s concerned about that. We
got to be sure to . . .”
Nixon: “Incidentally, the Uruguayan thing, apparently he helped a bit
there . . .”43
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 140
The “Uruguayan thing” was recently clarified when the government declas-
sified the transcript of another Nixon conversation with Britain’s prime min-
ister Edward Heath which had taken place that same month. According to
Nixon, “The Brazilians helped rig the Uruguayan election. . . . Our position
is supported by Brazil, which is after all the key to the future.”44 He was refer-
ring to the November 28, 1971 elections in which Uruguay’s Frente Amplio,
a coalition of left-leaning political parties not unlike Allende’s Unidad Popu-
lar in Chile, had been defeated by the right-wing Colorado Party.The result
was indeed unexpected, and evidently Médici had played a key role in it.
In March, 1972, the Colorado Party’s new right-wing president, Bord-
aberry, gave Uruguay’s security forces a green light not only to attack the
Tupamaros, Uruguay’s urban guerrillas, but also its labor unions, student asso-
ciations, and political opponents.45 The military made Bordaberry a puppet
in June 1973 and took complete power in 1976, following in Brazil’s foot-
steps.The result was a bloodbath that foreshadowed the thousands of political
murders in Chile after Allende’s demise in September 1973 and in Argentina
after its military seized power in 1976. By then, Uruguay, a country with just
three million people that had once been known as “the Switzerland of Latin
America,” had become a torture chamber, with more political prisoners per
capita than any other country in the world. Civilian government did not
return to Uruguay until 1985.
According to other newly released documents, General Médici had also
assisted the right-wing in Bolivia in August 1971, and Brazil’s military—with
US support and coordination—played a key role in training and guiding the
repressions in Chile, Argentina, Paraguay, and Bolivia in the late 1960s and
1970s. As one scholar noted,“Brazil had a head start on terror.”46 One of the
victims may have even been former president Goulart, who died in 1976 of
a curious “heart attack” at the age of fifty-eight at his ranch in Paraná.
Goulart’s family had long suspected that he was murdered by the military. In
2000, Brazil’s Congress finally started an official investigation.47
In any case, whether or not the “domino theory” ever applied to Com-
munist revolutions, it worked quite well with respect to Latin American
right-wing regimes. And their US patron discovered that with only a little
nudge to Brazil, the largest domino—as Nixon noted, “the key to the
future”—it could wield extraordinary influence on the entire region.
To pay for the plan, Delfim Neto’s first move was to throw monetarism
out the window and ease up on credit. That kicked off the “Brazilian mira-
cle” of l967–73, when real growth averaged eleven percent a year, the fastest
in the world. Because there was so much slack in the economy, inflation held
steady, just as Delfim Neto had predicted. There was an incredible wave of
optimism. Rio’s stock market soared from 100 in l965 to 4,908 in June 1971,
and Citibank’s Walter Wriston declared Brazil “the richest country in the
world.” It soon became “a huge construction camp from north to south,” pro-
viding the world’s largest markets for engineers, power equipment, concrete,
and earth-moving equipment.49 In the long run Delfim Neto’s strategy
would prove to be a total disaster, but in the short run, he looked like a genius.
Delfim’s Brazilian miracle certainly helped foreign bankers.When Delfim
Neto took office in l967, Brazil’s foreign debt had been reduced to its l960
level by the conservative policies of Roberto Campos. By 1972, Delfim Neto
had tripled it, and by the peak of Gebauer’s career in l983, it had more than
tripled again.50 The composition of the debt also changed. In 1967, most for-
eign loans had come from public sources like the World Bank and the IDB,
but by l973, more than two-thirds were from private banks like Citibank and
Morgan.51 At that point, nearly sixty percent of the loans were not going into
actual projects, but were simply being added to Brazil’s foreign reserves. Since
the reserves were managed by the same big banks that made the loans, most
of the loans never really left New York. This was the same kind of lucrative
“relending” that was used in Venezuela. Even when there were real projects,
the procedure was often: “First the loan, then the project.”52 In effect, the
debt’s growth was supply driven and interest-group driven, reflecting Brazil’s
incestuous involvement with banks and corporate interests, rather than its
own objective needs.53
Long before OPEC’s quadrupling of oil prices in 1973, or any interest
rate shocks, therefore the interests and ambitions of Delfim Neto and his
banker friends paved the way for Brazil’s debt crises.Their choices cannot eas-
ily be regarded as “mistakes”—they were simply trying to help themselves. In
the energy sector, for example, Delfim Neto’s contradictory strategy included
subsidizing costly gasohol, nuclear, and hydro projects while maintaining
price controls on gasoline and electricity. This did little to reduce Brazil’s
eighty-percent dependence on oil imports, but it delighted the big sugar
farmers, empreteiras, the military (which wanted the nuclear program), and
industrialists—many of whom liked to consume cheap power and coal.
Delfim Neto’s rural policies were also pro-debt. His gasohol program was
really an inverted land reform. It greatly increased the concentration of land
ownership by favoring crops like coffee, cattle, soya, and sugar produced by
the rural elite. Rather than tamper with the south’s large farms, the military
tried to relocate the country’s ten million rural, landless workers to cities or
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 142
the Amazon through a series of road and railroad projects.The result was an
urban explosion. From l960 to l970, São Paulo and Rio doubled in size, and
the overall urban share of the population increased from forty-five to sixty
percent.54 Crime, congestion, and pollution surged. At the same time, subsi-
dies for huge new power plants in the Amazon, as well as new farms, mines,
and roads there resulted in many socially wasteful projects and vast environ-
mental damage.
Delfim Neto’s many new subsidies for capital also promoted increased
borrowing from the banks.The government provided low-cost loans and tax
breaks for industry, promoting the growth of financial conglomerates on the
German model. In this model, which has recently also reappeared in the US,
there are few local barriers between commercial and investment banking,
insurance, brokerages, and other financial services. One result is a capital mar-
ket that is completely dominated by a handful of big banks.
Indeed, under Delfim Neto, banking became Brazil’s most profitable
industry. From l965 to l980, as the industry consolidated, the number of banks
fell from 320 to 92, while the share of deposits captured by the top ten banks
rose from one-third to more than half. They were permitted to monopolize
corporate finance; Delfim Neto’s Central Bank didn’t allow companies to
issue commercial paper. Under his 1967 Resolution 63, companies also had
to do all their foreign borrowing by way of Brazilian banks. By l982, there
was $16 billion in Resolution 63 foreign debt outstanding—a fifth of the
total. Equity finance atrophied; laws against insider trading remained weak
and courts provided little protection for small investors. The financial con-
glomerates completely dominated venture capital and the stock market.
Brazil’s stock market, Latin America’s largest, became a speculative casino con-
trolled by only 15–20 wealthy groups.55
Meanwhile, Brazil’s government financed itself chiefly with short-term
debt, which was rolled over every night by the banks. Delfim Neto found it
politically safer to borrow than to raise taxes on the elite. As in many other
developing countries, its income tax system was very weak—both corporate
and personal income taxes were widely evaded. The only other effective tax
was the “inflation tax” that hit the poor and unorganized hard. But for the
time being, under military rule, their resistance was “manageable.” By 1969,
Delfim Neto had completely undermined the independence of Campos’s
Central Bank. This prepared the way for a resurgence of inflation. By l975,
Delfim’s inflation rates had surpassed Goulart’s. In striking contrast to their
attitudes before the l964 coup, however, the bankers loved Delfim Neto’s
inflation—everyone just indexed their bank accounts to stay even.There were
lots of ways for insiders to make money on Delfim Neto’s rigged indexing
system, and no one in the government was threatening to raise taxes on cor-
porations or nationalize foreign investment.56
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 143
The debt financed the explosive growth of the state. By l982, Brazil’s gov-
ernment controlled the flow of two-thirds of Brazil’s total savings.The com-
manding heights of the economy was now occupied by just a dozen huge
state-owned enterprises, including Petrobras, the national oil company, Elec-
trobras, Brazil’s electric power holding company, and Telebras, the national
telephone company. All of these were being financed by good old capitalist
banks like JPMorgan, Citibank, Bank of America, Chase, and Midland Bank.
Delfim Neto made João Goulart’s statism look like child’s play. And private
foreign banks paid for most of it. In the words of one former Gebauer client,
“It was as if Moscow Narodny [the Soviet Union’s state-owned foreign bank]
had financed the growth of capitalism!”57
At the same time, Delfim Neto’s policies had harsh effects on the poor. He
explicitly embraced inequality as a necessary by-product of growth. Indeed, he
believed that growth required increased inequality—his motto was “concentrate
and grow.” From 1960 to l972, the share of income received by the top ten
percent rose from forty percent to fifty-two percent; the share received by the
top one percent came to exceed that of the entire bottom half.58 With the mil-
itary in firm control, unions became illegal after 1964, and real wages dropped
like a stone. As Juan Perón, Argentina’s leader, liked to say,“Prices went up by
the elevator, wages went up by the stairs.” As for government spending, the
government preferred accumulating foreign reserves or building dams and
highways to investing in teachers, textbooks, or public health; after all, there
was no opportunity for politically influential contractors, equipment vendors,
banks, and officials to make money on such “social welfare” expenditures. In
l970–73, Brazil’s entire education budget was less than half the cost of Tucu-
rui, the disastrous Amazon dam project. Thirty percent of Brazil’s population
was illiterate, less than half of all children completed high school, only four
percent attended college, and there was an acute shortage of skilled labor.59 It
was as if the entire country was being prepared to compete in the 19th cen-
tury.
Delfim Neto’s borrowing binge facilitated a torrent of funny business.
(For several other examples, see Chapter I.) For example, the “Relatoria
Saraiva” case involved the $100 million Água Vermelha Dam, approved by
Delfim Neto personally in November 1972 and syndicated by Banque Credit
Commercial de France (BCCF).The affair became public because of intense
personal animosity between Campos and Delfim Neto. In 1975, Campos was
Brazil’s ambassador to the UK, and Delfim Neto was ambassador to France.
In an incredible “tale of two embassies,” Campos planted his girlfriend, Mariza
Tupinambá, as a secretary in Delfim Neto’s Paris Embassy. There she over-
heard a quarrel between Vilar de Queiroz, Delfim Neto’s former director of
international lending at the Finance Ministry, and Jacques de Brossier, BCCF’s
manager.When Mariza asked de Brossier about it, he fumed that Delfim Neto
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 144
had “already been paid $6 million for Vermelha” and was now demanding
another $10 million in exchange for BCCF’s role as lead syndicator for Tucu-
rui. Mariza reported the affair to Campos, who sent SNI colonel Raimundo
Saraiva to question de Brossier. Saraiva repeated the story to his bosses, but all
that happened was Mariza was fired and Delfim Neto was warned by the
SNI’s new boss, future military president João Figueiredo (1979–85), to be a
little more discrete.60
THE NETWORK
The implication of Delfim Neto’s policies for banks like Morgan was
clear: “pump it out.” One longtime Morgan officer recalls that, “When I was
at US AID in 1964, I’d approach banks for piddling loans to Brazil and they’d
have nothing to do with it. A few years later, they were just throwing money
away down there.The whole thing became a sport.”61
Alfred “Fred” Vinton Jr. joined Morgan’s International Division, right out
of Harvard in 1962. He and Tony Gebauer shared a special interest in Latin
America. In l965, they travelled to Brazil together, called on local banks, and
wrote an enthusiastic report.62 Their enthusiasm was shared by Lewis T. Pre-
ston, the ex-Marine who took over Morgan’s International Division in l968.
In l967, Morgan had taken a minority position in Finasa, an investment bank
owned by Gastal Vidigal, the son of President Vargas’s finance minister and
owner of Banco Mercantile. In l968, Morgan published a glowing review of
Delfim Neto’s policies and opened its first São Paulo office. In 1969, Preston
appointed several Brazilians to his new International Council, including Luiz
Campello of São Paulo, a close friend of Gebauer’s. In l971, Preston proposed
buying a local commercial bank, but was vetoed by Morgan’s conservative
chairman, John Meyer. In May 1982, just five months before the Mexican
debt crunch, Preston fumed that “Citibank publishes its [larger Brazilian debt]
figures just to make me mad,” and Morgan bought half of Banco Interatlân-
tico SA, a Rio investment bank.63
To catch up, Morgan concentrated its lending on state enterprises and
multinationals. This strategy had many advantages. The government compa-
nies borrowed a lot in one swoop, had federal guarantees, and could easily be
marketed out of New York on the basis of high-level connections. Morgan
also knew most of the multinationals. Thus, Morgan’s Brazilian loans closely
tracked Delfim Neto’s strategy: More than eighty-four percent of its syndica-
tions went to government borrowers, especially Delfim Neto’s large projects,
including $1.54 billion for Itaipu, $165 million for Siderbrás, $238 million for
the Alcominas aluminum project, $300 million for the Carajás iron ore proj-
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 145
ect, and $1.5 billion for gasohol.64 By 1980, Morgan was the Brazilian gov-
ernment’s leading creditor and was second only to Citibank in the whole
“public plus private sector” market.
It was not hard to dump money into Brazil during this period. By l982,
eight hundred foreign banks had participated in Brazilian syndications.65 But
Morgan led a disproportionate share of these syndications.This role required
a senior banker who understood the language and culture, had a burning
desire for deals, and a flair for courting top officials.
Much of Tony Gebauer’s success was due to these personal attributes. As
one colleague put it, he was a “rainmaker”—an extraordinary dealmaker.
“Tony generated an incredible amount of business for the bank. He always
had solutions and he worked hard.” Another banker, who worked with him
for more than five years, said that “He had great esprit with the troops. Every-
body loved him. . . .” A banker who’d once interviewed him for a job evalu-
ation recalled that “Tony was attractive, intelligent, hard-working, thoroughly
professional—one of the really great performers.”Yet another banker wrote
Judge Sweet that Gebauer “took a great deal of interest in the welfare of those
with whom he worked.”A Morgan attorney emphasized his competitiveness.
“He would arrive at the office at 7:30 AM, work late, then socialize with
clients. If a minister arrived on a Sunday night, Gebauer’d take him to dinner
before competitors got to him the next morning.” An Argentine banker
recalled that his flamboyant style appealed to Latins.“He’d arrive in São Paulo
by helicopter, surrounded by the press.After his first marriage, he had an open
affair with one of Rio’s richest women.”66 Equally important were Gebauer’s
extraordinary contacts. In the words of one competitor, “Tony had all the
quality relationships down there—lots of important people knew and trusted
him.”67 Indeed, most of his clients had been his friends for years.
1. Hafers
The earliest contacts were from the family of Gebauer’s first wife, Fer-
nandina. His father-in-law, Luiz Suplicy (“Jua”) Hafers, was from a well-off
family in Paraná, Brazil’s coffee-growing center. Hafer’s mother’s family
owned a coffee plantation near São Paulo and Escritoria Suplicy, a leading
coffee brokerage. Hafers had served as a pilot in the Brazilian Air Force dur-
ing World War II, then returned to Santos.68 His best friend there was Renato
Costa Lima, another wealthy coffee farmer, who represented Rockefeller
interests in Brazil and was minister of agriculture in the l950s. It was at Costa
Lima’s farm in l952 that Hafers met Fernanda de Souza Queiroz.When Costa
Lima became the Brazilian Coffee Institute’s (IBC) President in l957, he asked
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 146
2. Borio
Gebauer’s most important early client was Leonidas Borio, an engineer
from Paraná who succeeded Costa Lima as the IBC’s president in l964. Like
Hafers, Borio had been in the Air Force, where he met Colonel Ney Braga,
one of the coup’s key organizers.70 In 1962, Braga, Paraná’s governor,
appointed Borio to run the Paraná Development Bank and promoted him to
the IBC after the coup.This was a well-known group of powerful insiders. In
June 1963, Braga, Borio, and Roberto Campos met privately with President
Kennedy and A. A. Berle Jr. at the White House to discuss “Brazil’s future.”
Borio’s reign at the Coffee Institute was not a happy one. Coffee sales had
plummeted, and he was accused by some of behaving like “a gangster.”71 But
what mattered to Gebauer was that Borio controlled Paraná Equipamentos
SA—one of Brazil’s five largest Caterpillar dealerships and the supplier of
tractors to the massive Itaipu Dam Project. In the l970s, Brazil was Caterpil-
lar’s largest market in the world, and Caterpillar was the only top one hun-
dred US company that was not a Morgan client. Morgan had lost the rela-
tionship in l935 when it failed to help Caterpillar through the depression.
With Borio’s help, Gebauer brought Caterpillar back to Morgan.
In l964, Jua Hafers introduced Borio to Gebauer, who invited him to
speak about coffee prices at Morgan. Not long after, Borio transferred IBC’s
and Paraná Equipamentos’s New York accounts to Morgan. In l968, Borio
also introduced Gebauer to his best customer, C. R. Almeida, an engineer
who owned one of Brazil’s top three construction companies at the time.
Almeida was known as “the most powerful businessman in Paraná,” a tough
customer who carried a gun in his briefcase. He and Gebauer hit it off imme-
diately.72
At the time, Almeida and Borio had their hearts set on a new $68 mil-
lion Paraná railroad.The old line, spanning seven hundred kilometers, carried
forty percent of Brazil’s coffee across Paraná to the sea. The new one would
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 147
cut the distance in half. Almeida had been assured by Paraná’s governor that
he’d be the prime contractor.That meant $19 million in contracts on the first
phase alone, and of course it meant Borio would sell more Caterpillars. All
that was missing was the finance. But the State of Paraná had never borrowed
abroad before, and in the 1960s, foreign banks were reluctant to lend even to
Brazil’s central government, much less to its states. Caterpillar’s lead bank, First
Chicago, declined the loan.Then Gebauer, a lowly assistant treasurer at Mor-
gan, had a bright idea: If Caterpillar would give Morgan some business back
in the US and if Brazil would guarantee the loan, Morgan would fund it.
Borio and Almeida delivered on both counts.73
So the mutualities in Gebauer’s first big deal were almost perfect. In 1969,
Paraná borrowed $50 million, Morgan’ largest Third World loan at that time.
In the next decade, it loaned Paraná another $160 million.74 The deal also
indirectly led to Morgan loans to Paraná’s State Bank ($10 million), electric
company ($39 million), Development Bank ($5 million), and several others.
It restored Morgan’s relationship with Caterpillar, whose Brazilian subsidiary
borrowed $10 million. Borio and Almeida also became clients—Almeida bor-
rowed $26 million and Borio $8 million.75 Morgan later regretted some of
these relationships, but at the time they seemed very profitable. For Gebauer’s
career, the railroad deal was also an inflection point. Morgan had been at the
point of firing him, but at the age of thirty, he became assistant vice president
and, just two years later, vice president.76
As for the railroad, one might well wonder whether a project that satis-
fied so many special interests could possibly satisfy any public ones? Paraná
governor Harold Leon Peres did try to cancel it, but that may have been for
selfish reasons. Leon Peres, a former National Assembly deputy who was not
part of the Braga-Borio clique, declared war on corruption and froze
Almeida’s contracts—rather like the young Fernando Collor would do in
1990, during his first year in office, before he discovered the enormous
amount of money that could be extracted from “selective prosecution.”
Within a year, Almeida took a stroll with Leon Peres on Copacabana Beach
and used a recorder concealed in a cigarette pack to tape the former deputy
demanding a $1 million bribe in exchange for thawing the funds. Much to
the relief of Almeida, Braga, Borio, and Gebauer, Médici then fired Leon
Peres, who went on to teach at a law school in Curitiba, Paraná’s capital.77
Borio was also very useful to Gebauer in other deals because of his ties
to influential Brazilians. These included Finance Ministers Campos, Mario
Enrique Simonsen, Octavio Bulhões, and Karlos Rischbieter. In l976, when
the IDB’s annual meeting was held in Rio, Borio gave a dinner for a Morgan
delegation that included its Chairman, Ellsmore Patterson, as well as Lewis T.
Preston, Robert V. Lindsay, and Tony Gebauer. In May 1986, the very day that
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 148
Gebauer’s legal problems were publicly disclosed by Morgan, the press tracked
down Borio in Rio, to ask about his Morgan accounts. He was at the opera
with Mario Enrique Simonsen.“I am going to the opera with my friend,” he
blustered, and rushed inside.78
3. Simonsen
Mario Enrique Simonsen was extremely valuable to Gebauer. In l969,
Simonsen, a thirty-four-year-old economist and partner in the investment
bank Banco Bozano Simonsen (BBS), won a trip to New York for his prize
essay on inflation. Borio arranged a lunch with Gebauer that sprouted a long-
term friendship. From l974 to l979, Simonsen served as Brazil’s finance min-
ister and then as planning minister. Under Simonsen, Morgan’s syndications
reached $1.4 billion, compared with only $300 million during Delfim Neto’s
first term from 1967 to 1972 and $4.4 billion in his second, from 1979 to
1982.This business was not a one-way street. From l972 to l983, Simonsen’s
own BBS received $22 million in Morgan loans, including $11 million while
he was finance minister.79 In the early l980s, BBS also loaned $1.5 million to
an obscure Bahian coffee farm partly owned by Gebauer.80
Simonsen also had many other foreign friends. In l973, BBS bought
Maquip, a company representing Westinghouse in the bids for Angra I, the
São Paulo Metro, and the Ferrovia de Aço Railroad. Simonsen was accused of
helping Maquip and Westinghouse obtain these contracts with overpriced
equipment. Shortly after leaving the Planning Ministry, he became a Citibank
director. 81
Simonsen was not the only Brazilian official who received private Mor-
gan loans. While Simonsen was planning minister, Karlos Rischbieter was
finance minister. In the l960s, he had been Borio’s chief financial officer at the
Coffee Institute. From l967 to l972, he was director of Paraná Comercio e
Administração SA, which received $1.7 million in Morgan loans.82 Rischbi-
eter later became chairman of Volvo do Brasil and Bamerindus, Paraná’s
fourth largest bank, which got $21 million in Morgan loans. He was also
Hafers’s partner in several ventures, including a consulting company that con-
sumed a $10 million government loan for an ill-fated hotel project in
Antigua.
Companies controlled by Roberto Campos also received $3 million in
Morgan loans.83 A company owned by Severo Gomes, another coup plotter
and Brazil’s minister of industry from l974 to l977, received $650,000.84
Companies belonging to the family of Paulo Maluf, a leading São Paulo
politician, received $1.7 million.85 Rossi-Servix, an engineering company
directed by the brother of General Newton de Oliveira Cruz, the SNI’s sec-
ond in command, received $7.6 million.86 Banco Sul Brasileira, owned by the
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 149
military, received $7.5 million.87 And Banco Econômico and other compa-
nies associated with Angelo Calmon de Sá, Banco do Brasil’s president in
l974–77 and minister of industry in l977–79, received $51.6 million in Mor-
gan loans. Calmon de Sá was another close friend of Tony Gebauer.
4. Delfim Neto
Delfim Neto was also close to Tony Gebauer.They first met in l967, soon
after Delfim Neto became finance minister. The introduction took place at
the Rio apartment of Ruth Almeida Prado, a member of an old São Paulo
banking family, who “knew all the important politicians in Brazil,” attended
school with Gebauer’s mother-in-law, and was friends with Borio, Simonsen,
and key “Delfim boys” like Carlos Alberto Andrade Pinto, Luis Werneck, and
Vilar de Queiroz. Gebauer always called on Delfim Neto when he visited
Brazil, and Delfim Neto was often Gebauer’s guest in New York.The minis-
ter relied on him for personal advice and “showed him all his speeches.”88 He
also rewarded Gebauer with huge syndications, like a $1.5 billion gasohol
financing in 1979 and the $4.4 billion Brazilian debt rescheduling of Octo-
ber l982, when Delfim Neto, Galvêas, and Carlos Langoni, the Central Bank
president, met privately at Gebauer’s apartment to plan the restructuring.89
Delfim Neto also favored Morgan’s multinational clients, who regarded
Gebauer as one of the best-connected bankers in Brazil.90 In 1969, for exam-
ple, Gebauer facilitated a $20 million sale of GE locomotives and Caterpillar
engines to Brazil’s National Railway, financed by the US EXIM Bank.
Gebauer went directly to Delfim Neto to get the deal approved. It later
turned out that GE do Brasil paid a hefty commission for the contract.91
5. ACM
In addition to Hafers and the Paraná circle, another crucial Gebauer net-
work involved Bahia, one of Brazil’s poorest northeastern states.The network
provides an even more striking example of the intricate sociology of pirate
banking. It was presided over by another Gebauer crony—Bahia’s longtime
senator, governor, and minister Antonio Carlos Magalhães (“ACM”). Magal-
hães is an extraordinary historical figure. His followers have described him as
“a figure who opens all doors,”“our most prestigious governor,” and “an inti-
mate of every Brazilian president from Kubitschek and Castello Branco to
Fernando Collor and Fernando Enrique Cardoso.” His detractors call him
“Toninho Malvadesa,” “the Vice Lord of Bahia,”and “an octopus who for
(thirty) years controlled everyone and everything in his state,” who was
known to punch journalists and brag that he ran the state of Bahia “with
money in one hand and a club in the other.”92
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 150
based most of its petrochemical plants in Magalhães’s state of Bahia, and Ode-
brecht, the big construction firm that was based in Bahia. Despite having lit-
tle experience with power dams, Odebrecht won many key contracts in the
l970s: a large part of Itaipu’s contracts, a share of Bahia’s overdesigned Com-
plexo Pedra do Cavalo water treatment plant (with Constructura OAS), two
hydro dams in the Brazilian states of Rondônia and Goiás, the foundations for
Angra II and III, and Rio’s Galeão Airport. The company’s inexperience led
to major cost overruns, and in l977 it nearly failed. Fortunately, Angelo Cal-
mon de Sá, who was both Odebrecht’s director and Banco do Brasil’s presi-
dent, bailed the company out with a $400 million government loan.101
Odebrecht had the outward demeanor of a tough, hardworking German-
Brazilian firm. Over time, it gained experience and developed a reputation as
“Brazil’s Bechtel,” one of the more globally competitive construction compa-
nies. But it was not adverse to using other methods to win bids. In 1992,
when President Collor de Mello was impeached, it was revealed that one of
his key aids, P. C. Farias, had set up a “consulting firm” to collect millions of
dollars in bribes from Odebrecht, Constructura OAS, and eight other big
empreteiras. Odebrecht was accused of being at the center of a “parallel power
structure,” an approach that it may have also tried to export to the US. In
1995–96, it became the largest single donor to the Foundation for Florida’s
Future, a nonprofit “public policy center” that raised more than $1.7 million
to fund future Florida Governor Jeb Bush’s campaign staff and even published
his book while he was between elections.102
Angelo Calmon de Sá was an important intermediary between Magal-
hães and Gebauer. An engineer by training, Calmon de Sá worked for Nor-
berto Odebrecht Sr. from l959 to l966, and then became Magalhães’s secre-
tary of industry. His family owned most of Banco Econômico, Brazil’s fifth
largest bank at the time, which had investments in satellites, tourism, food,
apparel, petrochemicals, and twenty other industries, including a joint venture
with Petrobras.103 Together with Odebrecht, the bank owned a third of
Norquisa, a chemical company headed by former President Geisel. From l971
to l974, Calmon de Sá was a Banco Econômico executive. Then President
Geisel asked him to run Banco do Brasil.There, he not only bailed out Ode-
brecht; he also bailed out his family’s own Banco Econômico when it refused
to honor its own $19 million cashier’s check.104 In l977, in the thick of this
incident, Geisel summoned Calmon de Sá to his office, who later reported
that he thought he was going to jail.105 But Geisel made him minister of
industry. In 1979, Calmon de Sá returned to run Banco Econômico and to
head the National Congress of Banks.
This was an incestuous little network, indeed. Calmon de Sá met
Gebauer through his relative Jorge Eduardo Noronha, a Banco Econômico
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 153
father or his wife was very wealthy. In fact, his wife had no money of her own,
and his father was from the middle-class.Yet, by the late l960s, Gebauer had
acquired a very expensive lifestyle. He and Fernandina started out in a rented
apartment in New York, but in 1968, after their first son, they bought a larger
one. In December 1971, four months before he became a vice president with
a salary of less than $25,000, he bought a house in East Hampton for
$200,000. He called it “Samambaia,” Portugese for “fern,” borrowing the
name from Campello Jr.’s Santos club. In October 1986, he sold it for $1.9
million. In 1972, after his second son was born, he sold his apartment and
used the proceeds “plus a loan from my father” to buy a magnificent two-
floor cooperative at 71 East 71st for $157,000. By 1986, it was worth $5.5
million.113 Not a lot by current standards, but at that time it was a pretty
penny.
Throughout the 1970s the acquisitions continued to roll in. In 1978,
Gebauer, Noronha, and O’Connell bought a coffee ranch in Bahia, which
would play a significant role in the funny business to come. In the late l970s,
he bought a condo in Key Biscayne, close to one owned by O’Connell. In
June 1982, he added a second home in East Hampton near Hafer’s multi-mil-
lion dollar estate. In 1984 he acquired a Paris apartment and spent hundreds
of thousands redecorating it.114
Gebauer also had many other expensive tastes. The New York Times
claimed that he took the Concorde to London to buy a pair of jodhpurs.115
That story was not true, but there were many other jodhpur equivalents. He
acquired impressive jade and Colombian gold collections, paintings by artists
like Paul Klee and Emil Nolde, and first editions of J. P. Morgan Sr.’s two-vol-
ume work on Chinese porcelain and William Piso’s 1648 natural history of
Brazil. He also collected paper pastels by Paul Maze, an eighth century pre-
Colombian gold piece, a Louis XVI mahogany desk top, circa 1790, antique
dhurrie rugs and pin dot carpets, pencil sketches, pen and inks, and watercol-
ors by Fernando Botero, Nolde, Lyonel Feininger, and Paul Klee.116
In 1973, Gebauer hired a live-in Portuguese butler and housekeeper, and
a chauffeur for his two new Mercedes and silver Jaguar. He sent his two sons
to St. David’s, owned a fine ten-meter wooden sailboat, spent hundreds of
thousands redesigning his apartment, and made expensive weekly alimony
payments to Fernandina after their 1981 divorce. “He always knew what he
wanted,” said a designer who was involved in four Gebauer redecorations.
“He was not a nouveau; he had a sense of quality, which we honed.”117 He
also kept a crowded social calendar. In l970, he joined the Raquet Club, a
New York City institution featuring court tennis and squash, and in 1972 he
joined the Knickerbocker and Union Clubs, frequented by Edward Finch
Cox and Claus von Bulow. Known as a night owl, he often visited New York’s
“Club A”and Rio’s “Hippopotamus.” He was the founder of the Brazilian-
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 156
DIVERSIONS
Gebauer’s connections not only made him a successful banker, but they
also produced the banking relationships that ultimately led to his downfall. C.
R.Almeida opened his first Morgan account in September 1968 as part of the
railway deal. By December 1974, it was known as the “Transnational Corpo-
ration” account, and from l976 to l983, Gebauer diverted at least $800,000
from it. In June 1967, Borio created the shell company Midland Trading Cor-
poration with the help of Morgan’s Panama lawyers. In December 1969,
Gebauer opened an account under “Midland Trading Corporation,” and in
November 1975, he opened another one for the Borio company “Four
Dimensions.” From l976 to l983, Gebauer diverted $330,000 from them.
Muniz da Souza, a São Paulo broker, opened an account for the Panama shell
company “Pendennis” in June 1975. Gebauer drained $833,616 from that
account.120 Francisco Catão—the Rio dealmaker—set up two Morgan
accounts: “General Universal Trading Corp.” and “Dartois Investments” in
1978–79. From l979 to l983, Gebauer diverted $2.3 million from them.121
According to the official story, these crimes were simply the result of
Gebauer’s taking advantage of a normal institutional arrangement. According
to Morgan, it allowed its senior officers to handle private accounts on the
side, rather than transfer them to the Private Banking Department, if the assets
involved were held in corporate names. From August 1976 to July l983,
Gebauer siphoned $1,750 to $75,000 every other week from six accounts
under his control, obtaining treasurer’s checks made out to himself, family
members, art dealers, and other suppliers. There were 210 such checks, in-
cluding 116 to Gebauer’s accounts at Chemical Bank. The withdrawals
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 157
noticed a hole in his accounts in late l985 after Gebauer had already left Mor-
gan and moved on to Drexel Burnham as senior vice president for its debt
restructuring group. But if his crimes were really just embezzlements from
innocent clients that Morgan knew nothing about, how could he believe that
he’d be able to cover his tracks after leaving Morgan?124 And why had he
stopped diverting money in 1983—two years earlier? From October l983 on,
he actually returned $1.1 million to Catão’s accounts and $444,000 to
Muniz’s over a sixteen-month period.Why did he do this, and where did he
get the money?
The official charges fundamentally understated Gebauer’s misbehavior
and Morgan’s involvement and responsibility. His diversions clearly started
well before l976, the start date alleged in the indictment.125 Moreover, the
federal prosecutors ignored many other questionable transactions that were
clearly not just “diversions” by one bad apple from innocent clients. But one
could learn about these matters by going to Brazil and doing some “archeol-
ogy” on that country’s dirty debt.
ARMING IRAQ
Several of these questionable transactions involved Engesa, a leading
Brazilian arms company with very close ties to Brazil’s military, Delfim Neto,
and Gebauer’s Bahian circle, as well as to Iraq and Libya, to whom Engesa sold
huge quantities of weapons throughout the 1980s. Engesa was mentioned
indirectly in the US attorney’s 1987 sentencing memo, but its name was dis-
guised and its transactions with Morgan were entirely omitted from
Gebauer’s guilty plea. My queries about Engesa met stiff resistance from both
the federal prosecutors and Morgan. In retrospect, this wasn’t surprising.
Unlike Gebauer’s official crimes, the Engesa deal was clearly large enough to
have required approval from several other senior Morgan officers, and they
also showed that some of Gebauer’s “clients” were really his partners.
Engesa certainly was a peculiar customer for a leading US bank like JP
Morgan to have. It was founded in 1963 by Dr. José Luiz Nolf, a São Paulo
dentist, and his brother-in-law, José Luiz Whitaker Ribeiro, a mechanical
engineer who had worked at Allis Chalmers in the l950s. At age thirty,
Whitaker developed a new approach to powering heavy vehicles across rough
terrain, a “Hummer” precursor that he designed and manufactured for Brazil’s
Army.Whitaker built the company from scratch.As of 1970, Engesa only had
about forty employees at a small plant outside São Paulo, manufacturing
power trains and push rods for army trucks.
Then, in the 1970s,Whitaker decided to take Engesa into the Third World
arms market.This was an ideal time for such a strategy. Countries like Libya,
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 159
Iraq, and Iran were finding it hard to buy arms from First World suppliers,
partly because of their own dubious activities. In the 1970s, for example, as
the conflict in Northern Ireland escalated and the Provisional IRA sought
new sources of advanced arms, most of these weapons not only came from
the IRA’s traditional sources in New York and Boston, but also from Libya.126
Especially after the Shah’s ouster and the Iran-Iraq War in 1980–88, the Mid-
dle East also became a key market for Engesa’s arms trucks, accounting for
more than half of its exports from 1977 to 1989.
Minister Delfim Neto helped Whitaker develop this new export business.
Delfim Neto hoped that the arms business would please his clients in Brazil’s
military and help Brazil generate new exports. With his help, Whitaker
secured a $50 million loan from BNDES to build a new arms factory.
BNDES, in turn, borrowed the money from First World banks—a convenient
way of concealing the loan’s ultimate purpose. In l973,Whitaker escorted two
prototype troop carriers to Libya and demonstrated them personally for
Moammar Khaddafi, who ordered four hundred on the spot.This sale helped
to establish Whitaker’s reputation as someone who could “sell sand in the
desert.” Until l980, when Iraq took over the top spot, Libya would be Engesa’s
single largest customer.
In l976, Engesa received another 400 million cruzeiro loan from BNDES
with the help of Whitaker’s brother-in-law, Calmon de Sá, who was on
Engesa’s board. Calmon de Sá’s Banco Econômico also lent heavily to Engesa
and invested with Engesa and Odebrecht in an arms factory that made can-
nons for Iraq. By 1980, Engesa had more than 10,000 employees and pro-
duced half the world’s armored track vehicles, plus a wide selection of “trop-
ical technology” that included light tanks (built by a Bardella joint venture),
short-range missiles, and artillery. Engesa had become Brazil’s leading arms
exporter, and Brazil, consequently, had become the world’s fifth largest arms
exporter, supplying more than $5 billion of official arms exports each year. In
October l982, Brazil’s military president Figueiredo was so delighted with
Whitaker that he appointed him head of IMBEL, a government agency that
coordinated all of Brazil’s arms exports.127
Engesa’s success was partly due to its being rather unselective about its
customers. In addition to Iraq and Libya, its Third World clients numbered
more than forty-two countries, including Peru, Qatar, Algeria, Abu Dhabi,
China, Suriname, Bolivia, Indonesia, Colombia, and Chile. But Iraq and Libya
alone provided nearly $1 billion a year in orders. Engesa supplied many of the
rockets, launchers, armored carriers, and trucks for the Iran-Iraq War. Delfim
Neto and Whitaker actually visited Iraq during the war, and Whitaker even
went to the war front. In the 1980s, Saddam Hussein selected Engesa to sup-
ply all the cars for Baghdad’s new subway, for which another Brazilian con-
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 160
struction company, Mendes Junior, became the prime contractor. Engesa also
worked closely with Iraq on the antiaircraft missile “Piranha.” Brazil’s leading
rocket and nuclear experts also helped out with Saddam Hussein’s nuclear
weapons and long-range missile projects. Meanwhile, Engesa also represented
Casa da Moeda—a company that built national mints for countries—and had
a joint venture with a US company that provided the security system for the
White House. According to a Chilean military expert, Engesa supplied the
very same security system to Saddam Hussein and General Pinochet. When
the US objected to Engesa’s Libyan sales, Whitaker responded, “I know
Khadaffi personally, and I can affirm that he is a highly intelligent and bal-
anced person.”128
But the program that Whitaker led went far beyond the sale of desert
trucks and small arms. In June 1981, when Israel bombed Saddam Hussein’s
nuclear facilities at Osirak, a large number of Brazilian nuclear experts were
killed in the bombing.129 Throughout the 1980s, Brazil secretly sold Saddam
Hussein thousands of kilos of uranium yellow cake. In August l990, when
Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, a whole team of Brazilian missile experts
were in Baghdad and on the verge of producing a long-range, nuclear-ready
missile. Engesa’s armored cars, short-range missiles, and light planes were right
there, too, leading the very first wave of the Kuwait invasion.130
In short, the planners of Brazil’s 1964 military coup had succeeded
beyond their wildest dreams. Not only had they laid the foundations for a
vast, debt-ridden, state-capitalist economy.They also created a first-class, inde-
pendent, military-industrial empire that wanted nothing more than to sell the
world’s most lethal technologies to any willing regime whatsoever, no matter
its ethical base.
Despite all its future “success,” however, as of 1981 Engesa was actually on
the verge of bankruptcy, with severe cash flow problems. Most of its Libyan
orders had been filled, Iraq was slow to pay, many other Third World coun-
tries were short of cash because of the emerging debt crisis, and even the
BNDES was tapped out. Fortunately, in this moment of peril, Whitaker was
able to call on his friends. These included Tony Gebauer, Delfim Neto, Cal-
mon de Sá, Catão, McDermott, the New York attorney George Bunn Jr., who
represented both Engesa and Gebauer, and JPMorgan. Together, they pro-
duced an intriguing series of under-the-table deals that saved Engesa from
bankruptcy.131
In the fall of l981, Gebauer assembled a syndicate of six banks to lend $35
million to the nearly bankrupt Engesa. At the time, that was Morgan’s largest
private sector Brazilian loan ever.To do it, Gebauer worked closely with sev-
eral other Morgan officers, including McDermott, David Walker, I. Bedford,
and Maria Fernandez Peña—a former Morgan officer who had moved to
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 161
Banco Exterior, which joined the syndicate. Given Engesa’s troubled finances,
Morgan demanded a guarantee. As one banker recalled, “That was the only
way any bank would touch it—the company had a bright red balance
sheet.”132 To get the government guarantee, Gebauer turned to his friend
Catão.
There’s no doubting the strength of Catão’s connections. His great-
grandfather helped found both the Brazilian Republic and Buenos Aires. His
family owned the private docks at Imbituba that handled Tubarão, Brazil’s
largest coalfield. It also owned companies that controlled twenty percent of
Brazil’s salt market and thirty-five percent of its chlorox market. Kubitschek
and Magalhães Pinto, the influential Minas Gerais governor who helped
foment the 1964 coup, were Catão’s longtime friends, as were Roberto
Campos, João Goulart, President Sarney, General Golbery, and David Rock-
efeller. According to several sources, Catão was also a leading intermediary
in international airplane and arms deals with clients that included Iraq and
Nicaragua.133 I experienced the strength of his connections firsthand in
l987, when Catão arranged interviews for me on very short notice with both
General Golbery and General Geisel’s former interior minister.134
In l976, Gebauer had met Catão through Hafers, who was once engaged
to Catão’s sister.135 When the military expropriated Catão’s docks in 1977—
the result of a long-running squabble—Gebauer got Brazil’s planning minis-
ter, Reis Velloso, to pay Catão $15 million and also got permission from
Banco do Brasil and the Central Bank to take $12 million out of the coun-
try immediately.That money funded Catão’s first accounts at Morgan.136
Then it was Catão’s turn to be helpful. In December 1981, McDermott
and Catão met with BNDES’s president and secured a government-guaran-
teed $35 million loan to Engesa. When it defaulted in December l983,
BNDES had to ante up.137 Favors like this weren’t free. In February 1982,
Whitaker transferred $45,000 from Credit Suisse to Catão’s Morgan account.
In March, he added another $1.75 million, and on April 20 and May 28, he
added $75,000 and $30,000. Gebauer helped himself to $1.5 million of this,
including $700,000 deposited to his father’s account at Zurich’s Clariden
Bank and rerouted to Gebauer’s Chemical Bank accounts. Gebauer also
relayed $25,000 to a McDermott account at Merrill Lynch. When McDer-
mott suddenly left Morgan in April 1982, he became a paid Engesa consul-
tant. In July l987, McDermott pleaded guilty to accepting illegal commissions
and splitting them with Gebauer.138 Catão denies any knowledge of these
transactions, but that’s hard to square with his role at BNDES, Whitaker’s
transfers to his accounts, and the fact that even the altered bank statements he
got from Gebauer reported all these payments. Gebauer may have been cheat-
ing his partners, but they were his partners nonetheless.
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 162
Gebauer was involved with other Engesa deals. In October l982, Engesa
was still having serious cash flow problems, utterly dependent on Iraqi arms
sales.Yet that same month, Gebauer signed a “going concern” letter on Mor-
gan stationary that valued Engesa at $130 million. According to a former
Engesa director, Whitaker took this letter to BNDES and received another
$55 million, part of which was used to pay off Morgan’s loan. He also used
the letter to persuade Saudi Arabia, through his friend Turki al-Faisal, to invest
$5 million. In January 1983,Whitaker showed the Engesa director Gebauer’s
letter and said, “See this? This cost me $5 million.”
According to the director, such commissions were nothing new for
Engesa. He claimed that others had been paid to Chile’s General Pinochet, by
way of his daughter’s account at UBS in Switzerland; to Rajiv Gandhi, India’s
prime minster from 1984 to 89, who was also accused of accepting huge
bribes from the Swedish company AB Bofors in the mid-1980s in exchange
for howitzer sales by way of Swiss accounts to various Banco Econômico offi-
cers (in exchange for a 1981 loan guarantee); to one of Bolivia’s presidents;
and to Delfim Neto himself, as a reward for all his support. An executive at
Mendes Junior, Engesa’s contractor on the Iraq subway system, said that
Engesa was an “octopus of corruption,” and that “Whitaker really got to
Delfim.”139
Even such aggressive tactics couldn’t save the company from the fortunes
of war, however. In l987, Iraq temporarily stopped payments, while still owing
Engesa $50 million, and in 1987 Engesa needed yet another $165 million
BNDES loan to stay afloat. In February 1990, after US pressure cost Engesa
a huge Saudi tank contract, which went to a US company, Engesa came close
once again to bankruptcy and needed another large injection of funds from
Fernando Collor’s government to stay afloat.
This story suggests solutions for several of the key puzzles in Gebauer’s
case, especially the apparent dropoff in the “diversions” from his “clients” after
1982. In fact, he may have just been digesting the huge Engesa commis-
sions.140 Brazil’s Central Bank has the right to cancel the repayment of any
foreign loan that involves such illegalities, as it did in a 1985 case involving
Bank of America. In Engesa’s case, however, Brazil has fully repaid Morgan.
O SISTEMA
This was not the only case where Gebauer and his cronies colluded to
enrich themselves with foreign loan shenanigans. Not all the allegations are
verifiable, but the smoke is thick enough to infer a fire. As one longtime
Brazilian banker explained,“Tony had a real system down here. . . . I person-
ally know of two people who split commissions with him in exchange for
loans, and their names have never come out.”141
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 163
One deal where the reports are verifiable involved Copersucar, Brazil’s
largest sugar cooperative. From l966 to l981, its director was Jorge Wollney
Atalla, a leading beneficiary of the gasohol program and another close friend
of Gebauer, Hafers and Delfim Neto. In l974, Atalla secured an $80 million
loan on giveaway terms from the Institute of Sugar and Alcohol to build
Paraná’s Usina Central, the world’s largest sugar mill.142 Sugar prices then
plummeted. In l976, with Hafers’s help and another $50 million loan from
Canadian Imperial Bank (guaranteed by Calmon de Sá at Banco do Brasil),
he bought Hills Brothers—the US coffee distributor. Coffee prices then fell.
By 1979, Hills Brothers was losing $25 million a year, and its net worth was
minus $30 million. Banco do Brasil ate the loan. In July 1979, again with
Hafers’s help, Copersucar hired McDermott and Gebauer under-the-table. In
March 1982, they provided a $50 million Morgan loan to Reuben Hills to
repurchase Hills Brothers from Copersucar. No one told the other six banks
in the syndicate, including Bank of America and Citibank, that Gebauer and
McDermott had received illegal commissions on the side.143
A finance director at a leading Brazilian steel company told a senior
Brazilian banker in the early l980s that Gebauer was going around offering
Morgan loans in exchange for commissions. “Is that the way Morgan does
business here?” he wondered.144 A São Paulo banker said that in l983,
Gebauer was soliciting an unusual $8 million loan for Borio.“I’ve got to help
Borio,” Gebauer said.145 A Venezuelan banker at Morgan heard reports from
his peers that “loans for commissions” were “common practice,” especially in
Brazil and Argentina.146 A Venezuelan financier recalled that in l984 Gebauer
proposed an off-the-record deal that involved selling $25 million worth of
Venezuelan Armed Forces notes.The financier said that Gebauer did the deal
anyway and also intermediated Banco Industrial de Venezuela’s (BIV) debt for
his own account.147 And in 1979,Venezuela’s future finance minister Arturo
Sosa hired Keith McDermott as an “advisor” in connection with Morgan’s
acquisition of twenty percent of Sosa’s finance company, Finalven. Morgan
retained the interest until Sosa became minister in 1982. Fernandina Gebauer
recalled that Gebauer and McDermott met Sosa at their apartment to discuss
the deal.148 Finalven ran up a $300 million debt, much of it from Morgan. A
senior California banker reported that “a friend paid Gebauer $300,000 to get
a loan for a Boston apartment complex.”149 In 1974, McDermott, Gebauer,
and O’Connell also arranged a housing project in Saudi Arabia, while
McDermott was stationed in Beirut.150 There were many other such curious
cases of Morgan-led funny business; so many, in fact, that it is almost incon-
ceivable that other senior officials at Morgan did not know what its energetic
most senior Latin American banker was up to.
Another odd case with Gebauer involved Ecuador. In l975 Boise Cascade
sold Emelec (a utility based in Guayaquil) to Power Engineering (a Miami-
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 164
based company) in a deal that was financed by a $33 million loan from Mor-
gan and Chase.Two sources familiar with the deal say that Gebauer demanded
that his friend O’Connell be hired as a “consultant” by Power Engineering.
According to them, they refused.151
In 1981, as interest rates were soaring, a São Paulo broker named José
Maria Tieppo started offering Brazilians unusually high yields in dollars paid
from a New York account at Morgan. Citibank and Chase had declined to
give him such an account, but for some reason, Morgan was much more
lenient. When $30 million of Tieppo’s clients’ funds suddenly disappeared in
l982, many of them blamed Morgan for allowing him to use it for credibility.
According to one banker who worked for Gebauer at the time, “Tony must
have let him have that account.”
In February 1986, I called Tony Gebauer at Drexel, where he went to
work in August 1985, becoming a senior vice president in charge of Latin
American debt swaps, to ask him about Tieppo.That was the first time I’d ever
heard of Tony Gebauer, three months before his own scandal erupted. I was
still McKinsey’s in-house economist, and Gebauer had only been rec-
ommended to me as “a Brazil expert who might know something about
Tieppo and similar transactions.” His response was immediate, heated, and
unforgettable: “If you write anything about this, I’ll kill you.”152
There was also an unusually long list of Morgan credits to South Amer-
ican private companies that later folded.A Morgan banker recalled an Argen-
tine deal where Jackson Gilbert, Gebauer’s boss at Morgan, had overruled a
Morgan Financial Analysis Group recommendation and “virtually ordered” a
loan to a very shaky Argentine company.There was also the peculiar case of
Argentina’s largest private bank, Banco de Intercambio Regional (BIR),
which failed in l980 after its owner, José Rafael Trozzo, looted the bank.
Gebauer’s group provided extensive credit lines to the bank. 153 Listas Tele-
fõnicas Brasileira, the yellow pages company owned by Gilberto Huber, got
$22 million in Morgan loans from l969 to l978, when it went broke.Two sen-
ior Rio bankers said that “Huber had a deal with Tony.”154 Comind, a bank
that went bankrupt in 1982, borrowed $14.6 million from Morgan. Svastiche,
who’d been at Princeton with O’Connell, was Comind’s international direc-
tor at the time. Morgan also loaned $7.6 million to Rossi-Servix, a construc-
tion company owned by generals that got involved in a major scandal at Tucu-
rui and went broke in l982. In November 1971, Morgan loaned $4.4 million
to CCBE, a Rio construction company—a transaction another former Mor-
gan banker in São Paulo called “highly questionable.”155
Some of the oddest transactions involved Gebauer’s Bahian coffee farm—
Fazenda Amizade—near Salvador, which was acquired by Gebauer, Noronha,
and O’Connell in the l970s. Morgan client Eduardo Campello Jr., another
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 165
one of O’Connell’s friends from Princeton, was a member of the farm’s “Fis-
cal Council.” At the time, it was illegal for an operating farm in Brazil to be
majority-owned by foreign nonresidents and to repatriate dividends to them.
Yet the farm’s records clearly showed that Gebauer and O’Connell were its
majority owners. According to Gebauer’s former brother-in-law, “This farm
was very special—it was the only one in Brazil that was allowed to remit prof-
its abroad, by authority of Brazil’s president himself.”156 According to the
farm’s former general manager, it had only been authorized to operate retro-
spectively, long after it had been started up, by the minister of agriculture in
October l986, after the alleged payment of a $15,000 bribe.157 The farm never
sold much coffee, but it did receive loans from more than forty Brazilian
banks. In early l987, right after Gebauer was sentenced to jail, the remaining
outstanding loan balance was consolidated by a $1.5 million loan from Banco
Bozano Simonsen, guaranteed by deposits at the Luxembourg subsidiary of
M. M. Warburg, Brickmann, Wirtz & Co.—a leading international private
bank in Hamburg that also had offices or representatives in New York,
Argentina, and Zurich.
Beginning in l985 and continuing until Gebauer was jailed in March
1987, there were at least ten suspicious meetings at Salvador’s Hotel Enseada,
not far from the farm’s office. These meetings were attended by Gebauer,
O’Connell, Noronha, and several other prominent Brazilians, including
Mario Andreazza, Brazil’s interior minister; Roberto Shorto, president of
Coca-Cola do Brasil; Antonio Dias Leite, a former minister of industry; Luiz
Caetano Queiroz, a bank president; and Jua Hafers. Clearly something more
than coffee farming was going on. After the last meeting in March l987, calls
were placed from the hotel to M. M.Warburg’s Luxembourg office, and eight
shell companies suddenly disappeared from the Cayman Islands’ company
registry.
Finally, from 1972 to l984, Noronha’s had been a director of Banco
Econômico, whose group received $52 million in Morgan loans.A prominent
Rio banker claimed that in l984 “Noronha was quietly fired, because he was
caught splitting commissions.”158 A Brazilian banker and a construction com-
pany executive, who knew Gebauer, both claimed the farm was a “front” for
laundering illegal commissions and flight money.159 Court records also show
that Noronha and O’Connell received large personal checks from
Gebauer.160 After leaving Banco Econômico under these questionable cir-
cumstances, Noronha went on to Banco Interatlântico, where Morgan had
purchased a half-interest in May l982. By l985, Banco Interatlântico had
obtained $53 million in Morgan loans. Some claim that it was also deeply
involved in illegal commissions and back-to-back loans.161 In any case, in May
1986, shortly after the Gebauer scandal surfaced, William Oullin, a Morgan
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 166
vice president, made a special visit to its São Paulo office to investigate the
case. Not long thereafter, in January l987, Morgan quietly disposed of its half-
interest in the bank.162
One of the most striking accusations involved Brazil’s l982 debt resched-
uling, when Morgan helped raise $4.4 billion in new loans for the country.
According to a former Engesa director,Whitaker told him that “Gebauer split
a huge commission with Delfim to roll the debt.”163 In l984, Helio Fernan-
dez, a Brazilian journalist, also told a Commission of Parliamentary Inquiry
that Gebauer and Delfim Neto had split a multi-million dollar commission
on the rollover.164 And three other senior bankers credited similar reports: As
one senior Japanese banker in São Paulo said,“It was widely rumored among
bankers that Gebauer, Galvêas, and Delfim Neto had carved out a $10–25
million commission for themselves.”165
Where might such payments have gone? Fernandina Gebauer, Gebauer’s
wife until l981, recalled that “around l973, Tony told me that he had some
investments at a European bank.” In l974, he made a hush-hush trip alone to
Europe. Fernandina called his hotel in Zurich to find him, and the hotel clerk
asked her, “Which Gebauer?” Apparently Tony Gebauer’s father was also
there.Tony Gebauer later explained to her that he had been on a “secret mis-
sion for Morgan.” Just before he was sentenced in January 1987, Gebauer
made another hurried trip to Zurich. Fernandina said,“He said he was going
to see his mother, but she was in Caracas.”166 Part of Engesa’s commissions
wound up in an account owned by Gebauer’s father at Zurich’s Clariden
Bank, a Credit Suisse subsidiary. And of course, there was also the Luxem-
bourg subsidiary of M. M.Warburg. Knowing Gebauer’s appetite for the hoch
bourgeois lifestyle, wherever the commission went, it would not have been to
some dusty Caribbean island.
Gebauer also clearly had many more clients than just the four Brazilians
that were disclosed by Morgan.167 A former Morgan credit officer reported
that “Tony managed more than a dozen accounts that were continually run-
ning overdrafts.”168 Another Morgan vice president who worked for Gebauer
confirmed that “There were not just four clients, but at least a dozen.”169
Almeida claimed that “Morgan was helping a ring of up to forty Brazilians
take money out of the country. Many prominent people were involved. To
cop a plea, and get Morgan to settle the case,Tony threatened to reveal their
names.”170
A US law enforcement source who was involved in investigating the case
provided me with a list of thirteen Panama and Cayman companies whose
accounts were under Gebauer’s control, in addition to the six accounts that
were officially disclosed. I confirmed the identities of eleven of these shell
companies in the Panama and Cayman registries. They all had the telltale
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 167
to help his powerful Wall Street allies. A Latin American financier who was
close to Gebauer also reported that “Tony once told me Delfim was a private
client.”174
It is also now clear that Morgan had numerous early warnings about
Gebauer’s misconduct. Three Morgan bankers who worked with him and a
half dozen more outside the bank say that by the l980s, his peculiar practices
were common knowledge. As one Brazilian official commented, “In Brasilia,
by l983, Gebauer was well known to be a corrupt banker who took com-
missions.”175 But Morgan received even more specific warnings. One former
Morgan officer who was active in Latin American lending recalled that “In
l975, Tony introduced me to Muniz and described him as his ‘partner.’ I
warned him about taking commissions.”176 In the Siderúgica case mentioned
above, a banker passed the information on to Gebauer’s superior at the time,
Fred Vinton. He said that “A half hour later Gebauer called me, furious. I
asked Vinton what he’d done with the information. He said he’d passed it on
to Tony’s boss,Alex Vagliano, the head of Morgan’s International Department,
who reported that he’d checked it out and found nothing.”177
Another very specific warning came from a credit officer in Morgan’s
Latin American Department. The officer, who retired in l985 after a thirty-
two-year career, said that in early l981—six months before Gebauer took over
as senior vice president for South America from Jackson Gilbert—he had
complained to Gilbert that Gebauer was running inexplicable overdrafts in
more than a dozen accounts. Only Gebauer handled the accounts. Gilbert—
a former Sullivan and Cromwell attorney and the former chief counsel for
Adela, an international venture capital firm that was active all over Latin
America—certainly knew the law. But according to the officer, “Gilbert’s
response was very strange and entirely inappropriate. Rather than investigate,
he immediately called in Tony to confront me. Gebauer talked his way around
it, and for four years, I never got another raise.”178 Asked about this incident,
Gilbert, who left Morgan to become the chairman of Riggs National Bank
in Washington, DC in l983, refused to comment, except to say,“I have a good
relationship with Morgan. . . . Everything we did was appropriate.”179
Asked to explain why Gebauer’s superiors were so deaf, dumb and blind,
the former credit officer hypothesized that “it was because he had such strong
supporters.” Peter Smith, an executive vice president who became head of
Morgan’s International Bank in June 1981 and later the head of Morgan’s
Credit Policy Committee, was another one of Tony’s close friends. He was the
godfather to Gebauer’s first son, and Smith’s wife was present at the birth of
Gebauer’s third son in December 1985.180 Gebauer reported to Peter Smith
during the crucial period from June l981 to December 1983, when all the
deals involving Engesa, Hills, Banco Interatlântico, and Banco Econômico
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 169
Everyone offered you commissions in Brazil, it was very common. Even the
banks got them! Morgan and Citibank collected ‘flats’—illegal premiums—
on every public sector loan they made from l983 to l986, when money was
tight. Until the Central Bank finally clamped down, it was a game: The
empreteiras paid us by depositing dollars in New York, we loaned to the state
companies, and the state companies paid the empreteiras.The only difference
with Tony was, he got the commissions, not Morgan.183
THE RECKONING
After the Iranian Revolution in 1979 led to the second oil shock of the
1970s, Brazil’s situation deteriorated rapidly. Delfim Neto failed to curtail
spending, inflation took off, and foreign reserves sank like a stone.The coun-
try borrowed short-term to stay afloat, using state companies like Petrobras
and CVRD as fronts for funds that were then “reloaned” to the Central Bank.
A few regional banks, like Philadelphia National, saw through this deception
and pulled out in l981, but larger ones like Morgan and Citibank hung on.
They were “knee deep in the Big Muddy,” and they were afraid to pull the
plug.
When Brazil finally ran out of reserves, in September 1982, Delfim Neto
appointed Gebauer cochairman of the Advisory Committee.Throughout the
fall he conducted key negotiations, such as a November meeting with US
Federal Reserve chairman and former Chase strategic planner Paul Volcker,
the New York Fed’s Anthony Solomon, and Robert Lindsey. Gebauer also
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 170
“hole” in his accounts at Morgan’s Paris office. Gebauer called him on Sep-
tember 25 to reassure him, and tried frantically to cover the shortage. But
since he was now at Drexel, Gebauer’s formerly malleable assistant treasurer
refused to approve any new overdrafts and reported Gebauer’s requests to his
boss. Morgan also got in touch with Catão. It told him his account balance
was not $3 million but $2,877.87. Left to its own devices, then, Morgan
would probably never have touched Gebauer. But Catão, perhaps Gebauer’s
least significant “client,” evidently felt betrayed by his arrogant former partner
and insisted on some answers.
At that point, Morgan finally decided to ask its former senior banker some
hard questions. On October 17, 1985, Gebauer was advised of “discrepancies”
in Catão’s accounts. On October 29, Gebauer was questioned by five Morgan
interrogators, including de los Heras and the chief auditor. Gebauer claimed
Catão had authorized him to invest money outside the bank to earn higher
interest and that he had unlimited discretion. He also promised to return $2.7
million by November 1.186 He did so, but Morgan’s concerns about a scandal
and some of the contradictions in his story prompted an investigation by Mor-
gan’s attorney at the Wall Street firm of Davis Polk—Chris Crowley.This was
one of the case’s many ironies: In l972–74, Davis Polk had advised C. R.
Almeida on setting up his first Morgan account, and Davis Polk was also
Gebauer’s personal law firm until 1982. One of the checks that Gebauer
drained from Catão’s account that year was for $10,000, payable to Davis
Polk.187
Despite the investigation, Gebauer continued his energetic pace. In Sep-
tember 1985, he flew to Brazil to discuss debt swaps with Dilson Funaro,
Brazil’s finance minister, and Fernão Bacher, president of the Central Bank.
He also met with O’Connell, Banco Econômico’s Noronha, and former min-
ister Andreazza at the Hotel Enseada in Bahia. In October, between stints with
Morgan investigators in New York and Paris, he was off to the IMF annual
meetings in Korea, where he heard US Secretary of the Treasury James Baker
announce his Baker Plan, which was intended to resolve the Third World debt
crisis once and for all. On November 18, 1985, he was back in Brazil to meet
with Bracher and Carlos Eduardo de Freitas of the Central Bank, and then
O’Connell and Noronha again. In November, Gebauer’s new wife Aurelia
gave birth to a baby boy, despite having a troubled pregnancy. In December
1985, Gebauer met Catão in Paris, Muniz in New York, and Bracher in Brazil.
Beneath the surface, personal pressures were mounting. In addition to the
Morgan investigation and his newborn son’s life-threatening condition,
Gebauer’s father collapsed at his Ft. Lauderdale apartment in August. He
developed lymphatic cancer and died a year later. Gebauer’s behavior regard-
ing the Tieppo case, in February 1986, was an indication of the stress that he
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 172
was under.Almeida recalled that when Gebauer and his lawyer, Stanley Arkin,
visited him in April 1986 in Curitiba, Gebauer begged him for a backdated
power of attorney. “He pleaded with me; he was close to tears. But I
refused.”188
Morgan was also under pressure. The Street expected fast-paced deal
makers like Drexel to have scandals, but this was JPMorgan. However, in the
course of its history, Morgan had actually experienced more than a few such
embarrassing moments:
four official “clients” were revealed in Veja. Morgan assured its clients that
they wouldn’t lose any money, and reported that it had found no wrongdo-
ing by anyone else in the bank.
On the tricky issue of private banking, dirty debt, and orchestrating big-
ticket flight capital, Morgan stated baldly that the Bank had “a policy of not
accepting accounts where it is in any way on notice that the customer of the
bank is violating his country’s currency laws.The Bank inquires as to the pur-
pose of the account and does not accept accounts where there is not a plau-
sible explanation. It believes that its policy is as strict as any bank’s in this
country.”194
Throughout the summer and fall of 1986, Guiliani’s team, Morgan, and
Gebauer negotiated his plea behind closed doors. Just as in the Parana Rail-
road deal years earlier, the final plea bargain satisfied many special interests at
once. For Gebauer and his attorney, Stanley Arkin, Gebauer’s 3.5-year-sen-
tence, with time off for good behavior, in a comfortable Federal minimum
security prison in nearby Connecticut, compared very favorably to the
twenty-year sentence he might have received for his official offenses alone.
Gebauer’s resources were more than ample to handle the remaining $9.1 mil-
lion of his $15 million bill for repayments, taxes, and interest. Even apart from
hidden assets, his Manhattan apartment was worth $5.5 million, his Paris
apartment $750,000, his East Hampton house $1.9 million, and his paintings,
gold, and farm another million or so.The plea also saved him from prosecu-
tion for any other offenses or civil liabilities.As Arkin later said,Tony Gebauer
got “a very low sentence.” And Arkin got his $460,000 fee.
Giuliani and the prosecutors who negotiated the plea bargain were also
pleased. It let them nail a prominent white-collar criminal without doing
much work. As one investigator said,“There were lots of other leads, but you
have to remember that this was just one of four hundred bank fraud cases that
my office was pursuing. We also didn’t have the resources to spend a lot of
time tracking these folks all over the world.”195 Guiliani, a conservative
Republican with political ambitions, who would later become New York’s
mayor, was also glad to have prosecuted the felon without embarrassing one
of New York’s most hallowed financial institutions and generous political con-
tributors.
The plea also avoided a messy trial where wealthy, influential Brazilians
might have to testify in public about their secret accounts—which probably
violated, at the very least, Brazilian capital controls and income tax laws. In
return, the prosecutors ignored Engesa and all the other dirty deals and
clients. Of the half dozen other Morgan bankers who’d been accomplices in
Gebauer’s deals, the prosecutors only pursued McDermott, who’d left Mor-
gan in l982.They even let Gebauer put his $2 million home in his wife’s name
and sell it just two days before his plea.
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 175
Davis Polk’s lawyers were also happy. Several of them, like senior Davis
Polk partner Fritz Link, owed their careers in no small measure to Gebauer’s
huge Latin American loans, which they’d helped to structure, and Davis Polk
also wanted to avoid an embarrassing trial. So did the US Federal Reserve—
an entity that is actually not a government institution, but is privately owned
by its member banks. So did the US State Department and Brazil’s govern-
ment, not to mention the many officials, generals, and Caterpillar and GE
executives who had made use of Gebauer’s services. After all, complex mat-
ters like commissions, arms traffic, flight money, and “flats” are better discussed
with sympathetic cognoscenti behind closed-doors.
And finally there was Morgan Bank. Morgan wanted Gebauer to pay for
his crimes—but not too much, since that might lead him to reveal other mat-
ters that were best left off the record.The bank didn’t want any more clients
revealed, and it certainly didn’t want Gebauer taking the stand to testify in
public about the seamier side of Latin lending. Except where exposure forced
its hand, Morgan’s role in this case was to ask as few questions as possible of
its clients, so long as the clients avoided publicity; of its borrowers, so long as
the borrowers had government guarantees for their big projects; and of Tony
Gebauer, so long as he made money.
From this standpoint, it is especially interesting to look more closely at
the precise charges that Gebauer pled guilty to: (1) tax evasion, (2) bank fraud,
and (3) filing false bank statements.To a criminal lawyer, there are two strik-
ing omissions: embezzlement and mail fraud. But in order to prove “embez-
zlement,” the government would have to show that the “missing” funds were
not the proceeds of other crimes.And, unlike the charges Gebauer pled guilty
to, embezzlement and mail fraud are also “predicate acts” under RICO, the
federal racketeering statute—offenses that, if established, would open the door
to a RICO prosecution of Morgan. By excluding them, US attorney Guil-
iani thus made it impossible for anyone to sue Morgan under RICO for
engaging in an “ongoing criminal enterprise” in Brazil.The bank fraud charge
also made Morgan out to be Gebauer’s victim, even though it is not clear that
he ever really defrauded the bank. But under RICO, the victim of a criminal
enterprise can’t be made a party to it.The prosecutors also avoided messy top-
ics like the Engesa deals, where Morgan clearly profited from Gebauer’s
crimes.
Gebauer’s fellow bankers at Morgan, who had known him for years and
“felt a sense of betrayal” at his actions, were certainly among those most
relieved by his plea. As one banker said,“We’re trying to put him behind us.”
They were happy to refocus their energies on Morgan’s latest frontier—
investment banking for First World corporations, many of which had become
rather disenchanted with the Third World by the late 1980s. Indeed, by the
late 1980s, Morgan had discontinued almost all of its Latin American opera-
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 176
tions—just as it had done in the l930s. It would only restart these operations
in the 1990s, in the context of its consolidation with Chase, Chemical, and
MHT, from which it emerged as JPMorgan Chase—a global bank with more
than $750 billion in assets (the sixth largest), named the “Bank of the Year” in
2001 by the trade press, serving ninety-nine percent of the Fortune 1000. It
would survive even its heavy involvement in the Enron scandal.
Finally, there were all those undisclosed clients, delighted to have their
identities, foreign bank accounts, and dubious dealings kept hidden from pub-
lic view. And the official proceedings had indeed protected them, at least for
the time being.
EPILOGUE
However, even the darkest chambers of the global underground economy
occasionally admit a little light and air, if one is persistent. And years after the
events in Judge Sweet’s courtroom, thinking back to all those meanderings to
the Bahian farm, the public records offices in the Cayman Islands and
Panama; the odd meetings at the Hotel Enseada; the unclaimed offshore com-
panies; the inexplicable loans and the transfer to the Hamburg/Luxembourg
bank—we remembered . . . that Wolfgang Traber, Gebauer’s brother-in-law,
had “been a friend for thirty years . . . had known Dickie . . . and had worked
for . . . ‘some Swiss or German bank.’”
A little more digging revealed that as of 2003, Traber was the chairman
of the Hanseatic Corporation, a “private investment” company “with minor-
ity equity positions in early and late stage companies in the US and Europe,”
based in New York City.Apparently the company has a long and colorful Ger-
man lineage.196 In 2003, its President was Paul Biddelman, a Columbia lawyer
with a Harvard MBA, who had been managing director of corporate finance
at Drexel Burnham Lambert during the 1980s, where he might well have met
Gebauer.And Biddelman and Traber now sit on the boards of numerous com-
panies in which Hanseatic has invested.
But what really caught the eye were two key facts. One was an obscure
footnote in a 1995 SEC filing, which reported that one of the Hanseatic Cor-
poration investments had borrowed $5 million from Hanseatic through “Del-
tec Asset Management”—O’Connell’s old company, which acted as custo-
dian.197 The other key fact was buried in the back of another SEC document
filed in January 2002 for Star Gas, a “diversified home energy distributor” with
850,000 US customers. This document matter-of-factly reported that in
December 1999, M. M.Warburg Bank Luxembourg extended a $37.5 million
line of credit to Hanseatic Americas Inc. (HAI), and in December 2001, M. M.
Chapter 04 9/18/03 3:43 PM Page 177
C H A P T E R F IV E
BLEEDING NICARAGUA
We’ve had ten years of war which tried to crush an alternative economic
model and now no reconstruction program. What else are thousands of
demobilized troops and their families to do? They’ve been told to “insert
themselves into the world economy,” so they export cocaine to you . . .
—Miskito Indian nurse, 1994
The problem here is if you submit to their policies, you’re good.When you
want to keep your dignity, you’re bad. That’s the story of Latin American
countries and American presence. . . .
—Daniel Ortega, FSLN presidential candidate, July 15, 2001
A decade later, however, the small restaurant on Paseo de la Reforma seemed like
a safe place to finally tell the story. It was also convenient, just across town from the
residence of one of General Somoza’s key private bankers. So after lunch, my Colom-
bian research assistant and I paid an unscheduled call on the private banker’s home in
a fashionable Mexico City suburb. . . .
On January 10, 1978, Pedro Joaquín Chamorro Cardenal, the editor of La
Prensa, Nicaragua’s leading newspaper, was murdered in downtown Managua
by a gang of four hired thugs. One week later thirty thousand people attended
his funeral. It turned into a bloody riot, the most important mass protest ever
held against the brutal forty-two year dicatorship of General Anastasio Somoza
Debayle and his father General Anastasio Somoza Garcia, who had ruled
Nicaragua after the US military ended its twenty-one-year occupation of the
country in 1933. Lawrence A. Pezzullo, who served as US ambassador to
Nicaragua in 1979–81, later described Chamorro’s murder as “the catalytic
event that brought together all the opposition groups. . . . It was the beginning
of the end for Somoza.”2 The murder also helped to produce a civil war that
postponed Nicaragua’s return to democracy for more than a decade.
What interests us here are the events that led up to Chamorro’s murder.
He’d been a thorn in Somoza’s side for years, but his fate was sealed by a series
of articles that he published in September 1977, describing Somoza’s involve-
ment in a peculiar kind of export business.3 In the mid-l970s, Dr. Pedro
Ramos, an enterprising young Cuban-American, had founded a company in
partnership with the dictator’s son Anastasio (“Tachito”) Somoza Portocar-
rero, popularly known as “the apprentice dictator,” who also served as a
colonel in Nicaragua’s National Guard and the head of its Basic Training
School.Their scheme was not original—François (“Papa Doc”) Duvalier had
tried something similar in Haiti.4 The company would buy blood from poor
Nicaraguans for five dollars a liter, extract the plasma at one of Anastasio
Somoza’s factories, and export it to the US for twenty-five dollars a liter.
Under a 1974 Nicaraguan law, all the profits from this scheme were be tax-
free, since the company was deemed to “benefit the country.” Received
abroad in dollars, they were readily invested in Anastasio Somoza’s many for-
eign holdings, including his Houston Mercedes dealership, Miami restaurants,
and bank accounts at Citibank and Southeast Bank.5 Unfortunately for Anas-
tasio Somoza and Dr. Ramos, one of the four murderers was arrested, and he
confessed that Dr. Ramos had paid him $14,285 to do the murder. Dr. Ramos
fled to Miami the day before the killing.The crowd at the funeral singled out
the blood factory and burned it to the ground.6
The resulting mass protests over the death of Pedro Chamorro helped to
bring about Somoza’s downfall, but it was not the end of Third World blood
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 181
traffic. In the early l980s, two Mexican journalists exposed more than five
hundred private clinics that had been set up in Mexico to buy blood from
poor people and export it to the US, as agents for leading drug companies
like Cutter Labs, Parke Davis, Lederle, and Green Cross.7 Through a process
called “plasmapherisis, ” the fluid portion of the donors’ blood was separated
and the red blood cells returned.The plasma was converted to antihemophilic
drugs and hepatitis vaccine.The traffic thrived despite an explicit prohibition
of blood exportation in the Mexican Sanitary Code (Article 207,Title X) and
an acute blood shortage at Mexico’s Red Cross.
These drug companies also purchased blood from plasma centers located
all along the border from Texas to California, catering to Mexicans who
crossed the border to sell their blood. Since the 1980s, coincident with Mex-
ico’s economic troubles over the last two decades, every border town has
acquired at least one such center. By the 1990s, El Paso had eight, San Anto-
nio four, Fort Worth two, and Brownsville two.Texas had forty-one, Califor-
nia thirty-four, and Florida twenty-two.Traffic was very high—one center in
Nogales, Arizona reported an average of five hundred blood sellers a week.
The sellers were paid $20–30 per visit. Under US Federal Drug Administra-
tion guidelines, they were allowed to sell just twice a week, up to two-thirds
of a liter each time.As of 2003, each liter of source plasma is worth $100–110
on the international market, with prices ranging up to $650 per liter for
plasma with special antibodies.8 This blood business can be very profitable, so
long as there is a stable flow of donors.To attract donors, the centers have used
radio ads in Spanish, cash bonuses for donations on birthdays, and raffles for
TV sets. But the real driving force has been Mexico’s continuing series of
economic crises.With real wages cut to l960 levels as of the mid-1990s, thou-
sands of businesses failing, increased competition from US exporters under
NAFTA, and 15–20 percent underemployment in many parts of the country,
regular blood donations can easily double a family’s earnings, especially if sev-
eral members get involved.
Third World blood has thus became a very valuable commodity. Purchas-
ing, reprocessing, and exporting high-valued products like “human source”
plasma is now at least a $30–40 billion global business.There is also growing
traffic in other human body parts, like kidneys, livers, and corneas.9 While
First World countries have been able to rely more heavily on organizations
like the Red Cross, voluntary donors are on the wane, with just five percent
of the adult population willing to donate. All told, purchased blood now
accounts for more than half of the US blood supply, and over half of the
60–70 million liters of human blood products consumed in First World coun-
tries each year. And this share is increasing, because of the increasing value of
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 182
blood components and the negative impact of the AIDS epidemic on volun-
tary donations. Furthermore, while the Red Cross is deep in debt, and its
blood supply division loses money, private blood collectors have been able to
exploit profitable niches of the market, like plasma, Factor VIII, and other
valuable blood components.
Third World countries like Mexico and Nicaragua have come to depend
on purchased blood for an even larger share of their blood supplies—more
than sixty percent of the forty million liters they consume each year, and up
to eighty percent in countries with lower per capita incomes, like India and
Indonesia.10 This reliance on purchased blood greatly increases the risk of con-
tamination by HIV/AIDS, hepatitis, and other blood-transmitted diseases,
since those who are most willing to sell blood are often from poorer, higher-
risk populations, including drug users, alcoholics, and sex workers. In develop-
ing countries, the facilities available for screening donors, sterilizing collection
instruments, and storing collected blood are also often inadequate. This has
already produced several large-scale disasters. For example, in Henan Province
in South China, thousands of peasant farmers were induced to sell their blood
to government-run health clinics in the mid-1990s. Corrupt local health offi-
cials who ran the clinics sold the plasma to private drug companies, and six
hundred thousand people contracted HIV/AIDs as a result.11 Problems like
this have scared off voluntary donors, further increasing the global blood col-
lection system’s dependence on purchases.12
The exposure of this clandestine traffic has led to several attempts by the
World Health Organization and “donor” countries to regulate it, especially
since the HIV/AIDS epidemic. In France and the UK, the commercial col-
lection of blood is already illegal. Of course there are no magic cures for such
traffic; like capital flight, corruption, and drug trafficking, it is deeply rooted
in global inequality. But it is important to be aware that “globalization” and
“trade” are not just limited to running shoes, handicrafts, and semiconduc-
tors.13 For there, too, the example of global blood traffic also provides a strik-
ing parallel to the relationship between rich and poor countries in interna-
tional capital markets. For there, too, the First World has bled the Third, of the
financial and human capital that it desperately needs for growth.
This blood traffic story provides a good introduction to the tragic tale of
one of Central America’s most troubled economies—Nicaragua. In the last
century—under the influence of repeated foreign interventions, a parade of
kleptocrats, thoughtless development banks, and unprincipled private
bankers—it went from being a small country with natural resources and
prospects as good as any of its neighbors, to being one of the poorest, most
heavily indebted countries in the world.This chapter provides a telling exam-
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 183
ple of how much trouble developing countries can get into just by being in
the wrong neighborhood—and by daring to challenge the system.
SOMOZA’S BANKERS
In July 1979, less than two years after Chamorro’s funeral, the Sandinista
Army (the Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional or FSLN) swept into
Managua and ended four decades of Somoza rule. They were a hearty band
of courageous, well-meaning, and rather naive young Marxists and social
democrats.They had learned quite a lot about guerilla warfare, but had almost
no experience managing a small developing country.They could have used it;
the real war was just beginning.
When the FSLN took over, Nicaragua’s economy was already in trouble.
In a country of just 2.9 million people, the civil war had taken 45,000 lives,
wounded 100,000, and caused more than $3 billion in property damage.
There were critical shortages of food, medicine, and oil, and more than
600,000 people were homeless. In 1979 alone, the last year of the war,
national income had fallen by nearly one-fourth. Furthermore, even without
the war’s damage, the FSLN would have inherited a country with serious
social problems.The Somoza legacy was a country where fifty-two percent of
the population was illiterate, life expectancy was fifty-three years, infant mor-
tality was 123 per 1,000, and three-fourths of the population was under-
nourished.
Meanwhile, at the Central Bank, the FSLN discovered that the cupboard
was bare. When Somoza fled to Miami on just two days before the FSLN
arrived in Managua on July 17, he had taken all but $3 million in Central
Bank reserves—nowhere near enough to service the country’s $1.5 billion
foreign debt. Some foreign aid was available from Venezuela, Mexico, and
Cuba, but the US—Nicaragua’s key ally, trading partner, and aid donor for
more than seventy years—had basically shut off the spigots. On the other
hand, Nicaragua’s foreign creditors, like First Chicago and Citibank, wasted
no time in threatening to completely cut off Nicaragua’s trade finance if the
debt wasn’t honored in full.
The debt situation was one of the top priorities for Nicaragua’s new five-
member Junta de Gobierno de Reconstrucción Nacional (JGRN), which
included the FSLN’s José Daniel Ortega Saavedra, Luis Alfonso Robelo
Callejas, and Violeta Barrios de Chamorro. Initially it considered repudiating
the debt outright. In a September 1979 speech to the UN, Ortega declared
that the debt was really the international community’s responsibility.14 Not
long after, however, the JGRN decided to accept Fidel Castro’s advice and
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 184
negotiate with the banks. Castro gave Ortega the same advice that he would
later give to Venezuela’s Hugo Chavéz in 1998: Cuba had made a serious mis-
take back in l959 when it renounced all its debts, because the international
banks had made Cuba’s life miserable ever since.15
In late 1979, the JGRN prepared for negotiations with the banks with the
help of several debt experts from the UN Conference on Trade and Devel-
opment (UNCTAD).The experts opened up the Nicaraguan Central Bank’s
books to see what had become of all the loans.What they found was startling.
Out of $1.2 billion in loans that had been disbursed to Somoza’s government
from l971 to l979, more than seventy-five percent had “flown” the country
within a few months of their arrival. From l974 to l978, Nicaragua’s debt had
increased by $834 million. At least $585 million of this went into offshore
bank accounts, often within a few days of having entered the Central Bank.
In a pattern that would later be followed in many other developing countries,
Nicaragua was left holding the bag, even though the debts had been poorly
invested, while the assets—the dollar loans—had already been “privatized.”
There were several different flight patterns. One was by way of the Cen-
tral Bank. Somoza’s government agencies borrowed all the dollars they could
and traded them for cordobas at the Central Bank, which sold them to the elite.
This continuous loop of public borrowing and private decapitalization was
facilitated by an overvalued fixed exchange rate. Throughout the l970s, the
Central Bank had fixed the cordoba at just seven to the dollar, even though
Nicaragua’s inflation rate was twice that of the US. The resulting overvalua-
tion hurt exports, but the price for Nicaragua’s main export, coffee, was set
by the international market. The policy really helped those influential folks
who had access to foreign exchange at the Central Bank and who wanted to
trade dollars for Miami condos, offshore accounts, arms to fight the rebels, and
Mercedes. (Somoza’s family also controlled the Managua Mercedes dealer-
ship.) Arturo Jose Cruz, the new regime’s first Central Bank president,
recalled, “It was really quite ingenious—they ran the whole country like a
private laundry. . . .”16
Nicaragua’s leading foreign creditors—First Chicago, Bankers Trust,
Citibank, Chase, Lloyds Bank, SBC, Bank of America, Wells Fargo, and the
Royal Bank of Canada—had supplied most of these loans that financed elite
capital flight.Their private banking departments had helped ferry a great deal
of it out of the country to private accounts. These banks had also helped to
finance Somoza’s mounting government deficits and his arms purchases. Fur-
thermore, all the flight dollars that they gathered from Somoza and his sup-
porters would later provide valuable seed money to the Contras, who took
up arms against the revolution after Somoza’s departure and helped to pro-
duce a civil war that claimed another thirty thousand lives in the 1980s.The
Contras were funded not only by the Reagan adminstration, and Oliver
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 185
North’s illegal Iran-Contra arms scam, but also by General Somoza, and, after
his “bullet-proof ” Mercedes exploded in Paraguay in 1980, by his family’s
cronies. It is not surprising that when these banks presented the bill for all this
to Nicaragua’s new government in early l980, and then also declined to
extend any new loans, the JGRN was a bit disgruntled.
The JGRN soon had even more reason to be unhappy. The UNCTAD
auditors discovered that foreign governments, the banks, and even the IMF had
provided many loans that lined Somoza’s pockets directly. For example, a $160
million loan from Spain’s Foreign Trade Bank to finance “Spanish buses” had
provided the dictator a $28 million commission in l976. And a $66 million
IMF standby loan that had been pushed through by the Carter administration
in Somoza’s waning hours in May 1979 also wound up in his offshore
accounts.17
According to two specialists who worked on the Central Bank audit and
the 1980 debt negotiations, Somoza also profited from several “roundtrip”
transactions that involved illegal behavior by major US banks. The auditors
discovered that at least $450 million of Nicaragua’s foreign debt—more than
half of the country’s borrowings from private foreign banks—had arrived in
Managua by way of a curious little Panama-based company, Ultramar Bank-
ing Corporation.
Ultramar was owned by Eduardo Rodriguez Feliu, a Cuban exile who’d
migrated to Mexico City in l960.18 By the l970s, his bank had offices in Mex-
ico City, Miami, the Cayman Islands, and Nicaragua, and it was also advising
borrowers in Costa Rica,Venezuela, and Argentina. But the Somoza regime
was by far his best customer.Another banker who dealt extensively with Cen-
tral America recalled, “It was just common knowledge—the way you made
loans to the General was through Eddie.”19 Ultramar advised General
Somoza’s Banco Centroamericano, his other private companies, and many
agencies of the Nicaraguan government. Ultramar was an “advisor” to numer-
ous Nicaraguan loans.
Ironically, in October 1970, Rodriguez Feliu had delivered a very percep-
tive speech on the whole subject of foreign debt and capital flight at the Third
Annual Mexican Convention on Foreign Commerce in Mazatlan, where the
audience included Mexico’s finance minister and many leading businessmen.
He offered the following cogent analysis of the debt-flight cycle:
In financial terms, Latin American countries face a great paradox. . . .A great
volume of capital has flowed constantly from this area to countries that are
considerably stronger financially, preventing the use of such funds to finance
projects in the countries where the funds originate.The importance of this
fact for the social, political, and economic reality of the countries of Latin
America has only begun to be appreciated. I believe that it is urgent and
necessary that progressive countries in our region design a solution to this
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 186
Rodriguez Feliu went on to say that by the late l960s, fund transfers from
Third World to First World countries already exceeded $10 billion.21 He con-
cluded that it was time to create a “Latin-American dollar market,” to help
attract these flight dollars back home.
Three decades later, Rodriguez Feliu’s analysis seems remarkably pre-
scient. This might have been due to the fact that Rodriguez Feliu’s knowl-
edge of flight banking and debt diversion was not just theoretical.When the
UN auditors looked more closely at all the loans that had passed through
Ultramar’s hands, they discovered that an extra 0.75 percent had been tacked
on to the interest rate. One of the auditors described how the system worked:
It was really pretty clever. Ultramar got all the mandates to arrange loans for
the Central Bank or Nicaragua’s Development Bank. The mandates were
awarded at rich terms, say 1.5 percent over LIBOR, with a 1 percent “flat”
fee, at a time when the going rate was only 1 percent.Then Ultramar went
to the banks and found some that were willing to lend at, say, 1.25 percent
over. Since the mandate was overpriced to begin with, that was easy. Ultra-
mar then went back to Nicaragua and demanded the present value of the
difference between the higher rate and the actual rate up front. It also got
part of the flat flee from the banks. Even for Central America, this was a very
large commission. So Nicaragua started out with only about ninety-four
cents for every loan it borrowed. Of course the remaining ninety-four cents
weren’t used too well, either.22
These commissions, worth more than $40 million, were diverted through a
complex chain of shell companies that started in the Cayman Islands and
Panama and ended up in Switzerland and Miami.According to the debt audi-
tors from UNCTAD, the beneficiaries of the diversion were the Somozas.23
Since the US Corrupt Practices Act of l977 promised stiff sanctions for
foreign bribery, and since the Ultramar payoffs were so blatant, Citibank, First
Chicago, Bankers Trust, the Royal Bank of Canada, and Nicaragua’s other key
foreign creditors were understandably a bit nervous when they met with the
representatives of Nicaragua’s new government for the first time in New York
in l980 to renegotiate Nicaragua’s foreign debt. Their chief adversaries were
Alfredo Cesar, a Stanford-trained MBA who had managed Nicaragua’s largest
sugar mill before the Revolution, and Arturo José Cruz, a fifty-six-year old
finance specialist who spent ten years at the IDB before taking over the Cen-
tral Bank for the JGRN. 24
Cesar, the more hardcore Sandinista, was in charge of the negotiation
strategy. At the outset he sounded tough, refusing to accept any IMF moni-
toring of Nicaragua’s economy. However, he decided not to press the ques-
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 187
“The feeling was, commissions like this were just a normal way of doing
business in Nicaragua—Somoza got a cut of everything. And it was com-
mon knowledge that he and Eddie were pals. I advised the Sandinistas to
press the issue, but the new government didn’t want to take it on.The atti-
tude was, “Well, that’s history, and besides, we’ll never get the money back
anyway.” But anytime Somoza’s name was brought up, the banks started
climbing the walls.“We’re not dealing with politics,” they’d say,“We’re deal-
ing with the continuing institution of the Nicaraguan Government.” As if
they hadn’t been financing him for forty years!
Anyway, we did distribute a questionnaire that asked the banks to tell
us which loans had been arranged through “intermediaries,” just to show we
were studying the issue. First Chicago, Nicaragua’s largest lender, took a very
long time with that questionnaire.At the start, the Advisory Committee was
chaired by Steve Thomas, a First Chicago VP. Suddenly, one day he stepped
aside, and Citibank’s Bill Rhodes took over.You see, Thomas was probably
the only guy in the room who’d actually made any of those loans.
Of course, Bill Rhodes later became famous as Citibank’s point man on
the entire Latin American debt negotiation. But this was how he got his
start. . . .
We also asked Bank of New York for help, since it had disbursed all the
25
terms to the sheer negotiating skills of Cesar and Arturo Cruz.28 But Cruz
later admitted, “There was really no reason for bragging about what we
achieved.” Nicaragua’s former advisors and the debt auditors from UNCTAD
are convinced that the favorable terms were due to the threat of exposing the
truth about how the banks and the dictator had really done business in
Nicaragua.29
COUNTERREVOLUTION
By the end of 1980, with the civil war concluded, Somoza assassinated in
Paraguay, and the debt settlement concluded, many Nicaraguans looked for-
ward to rebuilding their economy and finally achieving a more peaceful soci-
ety. It was not to be. Undoubtedly the Sandinistas deserve part of the blame
for the way things turned out, though the odds were clearly stacked against
them.As the strongest faction in the winning coalition and “the boys with the
guns,” at first they commanded overwhelming popular support, having rid the
country of the world’s oldest family dictatorship outside of Saudi Arabia and
Paraguay.
However, like Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez in the 1990s, they were torn
between leading a social revolution and building a multiparty democracy.
Their hero, Augusto Sandino, “the general of free men,” had fought the US
military and the Nicaraguan Army for six years to a standstill before he was
betrayed and murdered by General Anastasio Somoza Garcia in 1934. After a
decade of insurgency in the 1970s, the Sandinistas’s most important lifetime
experiences had been armed struggle, clandestine organizing, and very rough
times in Somoza’s jails. Unhappily, one of their most accomplished political
leaders, Carlos Fonseca, was murdered by the National Guard in 1976.
On the other hand, it is not impossible for committed revolutionaries to
lead a fairly peaceful transition to a multiparty democracy. After all, South
Africa’s African National Congress waged just as long a struggle against a state
that was no less repressive than Somoza’s. Many of the ANC’s supporters were
just as radical as the Sandinistas, and they also received most of their weapons
and advisors from states like the Soviet Union, East Germany, and Libya.
But South Africa was not as easy for the US to push around. It accounted
for two-thirds of sub-Saharan Africa’s economy and most of the world’s gold,
diamonds, platinum, and vanadium. By 1979, with Israel’s help, it had acquired
nuclear weapons. Compared with Nicaragua, South Africa’s economy was also
in relatively good shape when the ANC came to power.While there had been
a protracted, low-intensity war against apartheid, South Africa managed to
avoid the violent full-blown civil war that Nicaragua had to go through in
the 1970s to rid itself of the Somazas.
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 189
To be fair, the FSLN leadership believed that the first priority was to attack
the country’s dire health, literacy, land ownership, and education problems,
and to build “direct democracy” through civic organizations, not through
party politics and national elections. Given the country’s emergency and the
need to recover from the civil war, this was entirely understandable. But it did
provide cheap shots to the FSLN’s opponents and even the mainstream US
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 190
media, which basically wrote Nicaragua off very early as a reprise of Castro’s
Cuba.
The Sandinistas were also widely criticized for lacking the soft touch
when it came to domestic politics. Among their many ham-handed moves
was the May 1980 decision to expand the Council of State to include “mass
organizations,” the August 1980 decision to postpone elections until 1984, the
rough way they dealt with the Miskito Indians, the 1986 decision to shut
down La Prensa (by then, CIA-subsidized), and Daniel Ortega’s various high-
visibility trips to Havana, Moscow, and Libya.33 They were also criticized for
implementing a compulsory draft, detaining alleged Contra sympathizers
without trial after the Contra War heated up, permitting the FSLN’s National
Directorate (Daniel Ortega, Tomas Borge, Victor Tirado, Henry Ruiz, and
Bayardo Arce) to remain an unelected body until 1991, and seizing a huge
amount of property from ex-Somocistas—even from the middle class—for
their own use during the Piñata period after Ortega lost the 1990 election.
At the same time, they were not given much credit for preserving a mixed
economy, reforming the health and education systems, pursuing relations with
numerous non-Communist countries in Latin America and Europe, imple-
menting a badly needed land reform, tolerating the virulent La Prensa until
1986, holding reasonably free elections in 1984 and 1990, and respecting the
outcome, of these elections (. . . and 1996 . . . and 2001 . . .) when they lost.
The reality is that from 1981 on, Nicaragua’s new government was oper-
ating in an increasingly hostile international environment, where the Western
media, the US government, and the Miami-based Somicistas were predis-
posed to seize upon the slightest departures from Roberts’s Rules of Orders
to consign them to hell. And if no such departures were evident, to invent
them. These hostile attitudes had much less to do with the FSLN’s behavior
than with the US government’s new aggressive stance with respect to the
Soviet Union—dating back at least to President Carter’s initiation of a Con-
tra-like war against the Soviet-backed government in Afghanistan in July
1979.34 Despite the FSLN’s undeniable missteps, it would have taken divine
intervention to save Nicaragua from the wrath of Ronald Reagan, who
decided almost immediately upon taking office to single out Nicaragua for a
replay of the Carter/Brzezinski strategy in Afghanistan.
STATE-FUNDED TERRORISM—US-STYLE
Former CIA analyst David MacMichael testified at the International
Court of the Hague’s hearings on a lawsuit brought by Nicaragua against the
US in 1986 that from early 1981 on, the US government set out to create a
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 191
Other elements were sometimes thrown into the mix. On November 6, 1984,
just two days after the Sandinistas won a decisive sixty-seven percent victory
in the country’s freest elections in history, there was a huge media flap in the
US press over their alleged attempt to buy Soviet MiGs for air defense. This
story later turned out to be a wholesale concoction by the State Department’s
“Office of Public Diplomacy,” Oliver North, Otto Reich, and Robert
McFarlane—just one of many US propaganda efforts designed to distract
attention from the FSLN’s victory in the 1984 elections.39
Together, the subversion theory and the beachhead theory revived the
timeworn domino theory, transposed from Southeast Asia to Central Amer-
ica. Apparently the notion was that since Nicaragua bordered Honduras and
El Salvador, which bordered Guatemala and Belize, which bordered Mexico,
the Red Army might just jet in to El Paso in their MiGs from Managua,“only
two hours away.”The fact that “the Reds” were already ninety miles away in
Havana, armed with brand new MiG 23 Flogger bombers and MiG 29s, was
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 192
not mentioned by Reagan. After all, Cuba had already demonstrated that it
could stand up to a US invasion, and the Bay of Pigs was not a happy mem-
ory.
The rather strained analysis of Nicaragua’s purported threat to US
national security was later endorsed, with only slight variations, by the Janu-
ary 1984 Bipartisan National Commission on Central America chaired by Dr.
Henry Kissinger. One might have expected him to draw a different conclu-
sion, given his long personal experience with Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, and
China, whose leftist regimes spent most of the 1970s fighting each other. But
Kissinger was ingratiating himself with the Republican Party’s conservative
wing. And unlike the National Commission on Terrorist Attacks, which he
resigned from in December 2002, it did not require him to identify his con-
sulting firms’ private clients.
In any case, long after there were peace settlements in Nicaragua, El Sal-
vador, and Guatemala and long after the Sandinistas had handed over politi-
cal power to their opponents, Republicans like Senators John McCain and
Jesse Helms were still seeing ghosts in Nicaragua well into the 1990s, trying
to make hay out of the Sandinistas’ alleged subversive threat. These charges
even played a role in Daniel Ortega’s defeat in Nicaragua’s presidential elec-
tions in 2001, even when his running mate was Violeta Chamorro’s son-in-
law.
Eventually, all the stockpiles of AK47s, landmines, rocket launchers, and
surface-to-air missiles acquired by the Sandinistas to defend Nicaragua against
the Contras did end up posing a security threat to the US, but it was not the
one that the Sandinista’s right-wing critics had predicted. In November 2001,
Colombia’s eleven thousand-strong, right-wing, drug-dealing paramilitary
group—the AUC—procured 3,500 AK47s from Nicaragua’s military stock-
piles by way of Israeli arms merchants based in Panama and Guatemala. The
AUC also reportedly purchased arms from army stockpiles in El Salvador and
Guatemala.The arms were part of a five-shipment package that included thir-
teen thousand assault rifles, millions of bullets, grenades, rocket launchers,
machine guns, and explosives.40 The AUC, which was on George W. Bush’s
official list of terrorist groups, was supported by landlords who wanted to
combat Colombia’s leftist guerillas—the ELN and the FARC.The AUC was
also supposedly fighting Colombia’s Army. From 2000 to 2003, Colombia
received $2.5 billion in US military aid, plus more than four hundred Special
Forces troops, making it the world’s third largest recipient of US aid.41 In
2002, an OAS study also revealed that a Lebanese arms broker with al Qaeda
links had tried to purchase twenty SA-7 missiles from Nicaragua’s stock-
piles.42 The US started pressuring Nicaragua’s President Bolaños, a neoliberal
businessman, to reduce these stockpiles, but hopefully not by selling them to
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 193
the AUC. In the long run, by forcing the comparatively harmless Sandinistas
to stockpile all these weapons to defend themselves and by arming the right-
wing militaries of El Salvador and Guatemala to the teeth, the US may have
set a trap for itself.
In reality, Nicaragua’s leftists, even if they were so inclined, were neither
necessary nor sufficient to “subvert” their neighbors. Those neighbors with
the most serious liberation movements, like El Salvador, Guatemala, and
Colombia, had already done a perfectly good job of subverting themselves.
Their rebel movements developed over many decades from within, on the
basis of incredibly unbalanced social structures. For example, El Salvador’s
catorce—its top fourteen families—controlled 90–95 percent of the country’s
land and finance capital, while in Guatemala, just 2 percent of the population
controlled more than 70 percent of arable land.43 In Nicaragua, the Somoza
family alone laid claim to a quarter of the country’s arable land.The resulting
social conflicts were also similar. In the 1980s, El Salvador’s class war claimed
more than eighty thousand lives, while Guatemala’s claimed two hundred
thousand, with the vast majority due to their own brutal armed forces and
paramilitaries. On the other hand, Costa Rica, Nicaragua’s good neighbor to
the south, had long since inoculated itself against revolution by developing an
old-fashioned, middle-class democracy, with numerous small farms and more
teachers than police, abolishing its military in 1948.
While the Reagan adminstration asserted over and over again in the early
1980s that the Sandinistas had shipped arms to leftist guerillas in El Salvador,
two decades later, these allegations have been shown to be as spurious as the
purported MiG purchases.44 In fact, the Sandinista aid to El Salvador’s rebels,
the FLMN, was miniscule and was terminated around 1981.45 The claim that
El Salvador’s FLMN had acquired several hundred tons of weapons from the
East Bloc,Arafat, and Libya was also conjured out of thin air. In fact, the rebel
armies in El Salvador and Guatemala were poorly armed, notwithstanding the
Galil rifles and rocket launchers they managed to steal or purchase from cor-
rupt army officers. Leading Sandinistas like Tomas Borge explicitly rejected
the notion of “exporting revolution,” except by way of the FSLN’s example.
After all, the FSLN had not relied on Soviet or Cuban backing for their own
revolution.They had their hands full rebuilding Nicaragua.The last thing they
needed was another war with El Salvador or Guatemala, in addition to the
Contra War.
Finally, while the Sandinistas were hardly liberal democrats and commit-
ted many political blunders, they were scarcely in a position to run a “dicta-
torship,” even within Managua’s city limits. To their credit, they had greatly
increased the amount of popular involvement in the country’s governance. In
November 1984, they held national elections that most international
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 194
from the Contras—did Nicaragua turn to the Soviet Union and Cuba for
arms and advisors.
Many Sandinistas were undoubtedly committed radicals, dedicated to
policies like land reform, free health and education, and the seizure of
Somocista-owned properties. But these policies were arguably defensible,
given Nicaragua’s economic conditions and its need to play catch-up with
basic social justice.These are, after all, policies that the US itself has supported,
or at least tolerated, in many other times and places, when they happened to
serve its interests.The Nicaraguans may have been stubborn and full of radi-
cal bravado, but they were far from anyone’s pawns. These characterizations
were ‘50s-vintage hobgoblins, left over from the days when Ronald Reagan
helped to run purported leftists out of the Actors Guild in Los Angeles. At
best, they reflected a desire to show the USSR who was boss by making an
example of a tiny, weak, left-leaning regime.
From this standpoint, the US government basically succeeded in pushing
Nicaragua into relying very heavily on Soviet and Cuban arms and economic
aid for its own survival.51 The US government then used that reliance as an
excuse to expand its own provocations into a full-scale war that ultimately
claimed thirty thousand lives. This is surely one of the clearest examples of
state-funded terrorism ever.
SAYING UNCLE
All these inconvenient little details were brushed aside by the Reaganites
when they took office in January 1981, prepared, in President Reagan’s
words, to make the Sandinistas “say uncle.”They never did. In fact, by 1988,
they had “whupped” Oliver North’s Contras pretty good. But this was not for
want of US efforts at subversion.
In March 1981, President Reagan signed an Executive Order that man-
dated the CIA to undertake covert operations in Central America to interdict
arms shipments “by Marxist guerillas.” By November 1981, US focus had
shifted from “arms interdiction” to regime change. That month, the Reagan
administration provided an initial $19 million to mount a fairly transparent
“covert” effort to destabilize Nicaragua.The strategy, implemented by a now-
famous gang of future presidential pardonees, was the classic scissors tactic
employed by the US and its allies in many other twentieth century counter-
revolutionary interventions.
On the one hand, the US government tried to cut off Nicaragua’s cash
flow, reducing access to new loans from the IMF, the World Bank, the IDB,
EXIM Bank funding, and OPIC risk insurance. In September 1983, the US
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 196
standing army raised by a national draft.To pay for all this, the FSLN had to
boost military spending from five percent of national income in 1980 to
eighteen percent in 1988, when the first in a series of armistices was finally
signed. By then, more than half of Nicaragua’s government budget was
devoted to paying for an army that numbered 119,000—seven percent of all
Nicaraguans between the ages of eighteen and sixty-five.
Early on, the Sandinistas had made a strong commitment to building new
health clinics and schools in the country. These social programs, plus land
reform, were among their most important accomplishments. Even in the
midst of the war, with the help of 2,500 Cuban doctors, they managed to
increase spending on health and education, open hundreds of new medical
clinics, and sharply reduce infant mortality, malnutrition, disease, and illiter-
acy.56 They also implemented a land reform program that redistributed more
than than forty-nine percent of Nicaragua’s arable land to small farmers.
But the war made it very hard to sustain these undeniable accomplish-
ments. Despite the FSLN’s military “victory,” Nicaragua’s regular economy
took a very direct hit. Trade and investment plummeted, unemployment
soared to twenty-five percent and inflation reached an astonishing thirty-six
thousand percent by 1988–89.57 From 1980 to 1990, Nicaragua’s average real
per capita income fell thirty-five percent, and the incidence of poverty rose
to forty-four percent.58 To deal with shortages in the face of soaring inflation,
the FSLN had to implement a rationing system for food and other basic com-
modities.What the Nixon administration had done to the Allende regime in
Chile a decade earlier, the Reaganites were doing to Nicaragua—they were
making the economy “scream.”
This was by far the highest foreign debt burden in the world—thirty times
the average debt-income ratio for all developing countries. And it was not
derived from technical policy errors, economic accidents, or geographic mis-
fortune. It was partly due to the $1.5 billion in dirty debt left over from the
Somoza years, and most of the rest derived from the US’s ruthless persecution.
NEOLIBERAL DAWN?
The Reagan/Bush administration did fulfill one of its wishes for
Nicaragua. In February 1990, after fifteen years of civil war and a two-year
cease-fire that was unevenly unobserved, Violeta Barrios de Chamorro—
Pedro Chamorro’s widow and the candidate of the centrist National Oppo-
sition Union (Unión Nicaragüense Opositora, or UNO), a coalition of four-
teen anti-FSLN parties—soundly defeated incumbent president Daniel
Ortega by a fifty-five to forty-one percent margin.
This result surprised most pollsters.A Washington Post/ABC News survey
in December 1989, had estimated that forty-eight percent of Nicaraguan vot-
ers favored Ortega, thirty-two percent favored Chamorro, and sixteen percent
were undecided. The outcome completely shocked the FSLN, which had
made no preparations to transfer power, especially legal control over all the
assets that its members had seized from the Somocistas.
However, in retrospect, the outcome made sense. The US was not the
only cause of the FSLN’s defeat. By the 1990s, people were growing tired of
feeding on revolutionary rhetoric.The FSLN was perceived as having lost its
revolutionary purity and fervor during its decade in power, becoming arro-
gant and bureaucratic. Second, many people feared that another FSLN gov-
ernment might bring even more economic hardship. Nicaragua’s US lawyer
said that “Whatever revolutionary fervor the people once might have had was
beaten out of them by the war and the impossibility of putting food in their
children’s stomachs.”59 The US government, under President George Bush I,
sent a clear message: On the one hand, it promised that a new Chamorro
administration would receive hundreds of millions of dollars in economic aid.
On the other hand, it also strongly suggested that so long as the FSLN was in
power, Nicaragua would be fair game for a continued trade embargo, restric-
tions on multilateral lending, and perhaps even a continuation of “humani-
tarian” aid to the Contras. Meanwhile, Violeta Chamorro held out the
prospect for a free-market economic revival, reform of Nicaragua’s inefficient
state enterprises, and an end to the Sandinistas’s unpopular draft.
To drive these points home, the US did not encourage anti-FSLN can-
didates to withdraw from the elections, as it had done in 1984. Rather, it spent
up to $50 million to influence the election’s outcome in UNO’s favor—out-
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 199
TRANSITION
The Sandanistas handed over power peacefully to President Chamorro in
April 1990, the first such peaceful transition in Nicaragua’s history and a test
of democratic values that the ANC, for example, has never had to face.When
President Chamorro took office, however, the mood was much more somber
than when the Sandinistas triumphed over Somoza. In June 1990, her sup-
porters tried to inject a little merriment by throwing her a fancy inaugural
ball at a former country club in Managua, the first social gathering of
Nicaragua’s social elites in more than a decade.63 But the effort felt a little off-
key to many observers, given the country’s economic troubles. Most
Nicaraguans still hoped for a revival of peace and growth, but they had long
since learned that this would not be easy in a country riven by deep social
and political divisions.
Their worries were justified. Violeta Chamorros’s inauguration was the
first in a series of neoliberal administrations that had two basic goals: (1)
restoring economic growth and (2) reversing almost all the Sandinista’s most
effective reforms, including land reform, health care, child care, womens’
rights, and public education. It succeeded only at the latter.
Her first move was her most popular one—the abolition of compulsory
military service. Even though enforcement of the draft had been on hold
since 1989, this was a source of enormous relief to most young Nicaraguan
males. She then appointed a new education minister, who immediately elim-
inated the requirement that schoolchildren sing the Sandinista anthem every
day, including the words, “We shall fight against the Yankee, the enemy of
humanity.”
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 200
money to a dictator. But the price they got was another indicator of the
country’s sorry situation—just eight cents on the dollar.65
Despite these accomplishments, after six years in power, Chamorro and
her economic team were basically exhausted, while the country’s economy
continued to stagnate. Except for the reduction in inflation, her programs had
produced few positive results for Nicaraguans, who were now poorer than
ever. By 1996, Nicaragua’s real national income remained below its 1987
level, underemployment had risen to 50–60 percent in many parts of the
country, and the proportion of people living below the poverty line was
approaching 50 percent. One might have thought that this situation would
have created a golden political opportunity for the FSLN to return to power.
But that ignored Daniel Ortega’s stunning capacity to snatch defeat from the
jaws of victory.
DESIGNER LEFTIES
The FSLN had been largely excluded from the Chamorro government,
except for Defense Minister Humberto Ortega. FSLN leaders fell to fighting
amongst themselves, ultimately splitting up in February 1996 when former
Vice President Sergio Ramirez and several other leaders broke with the Orte-
gas to form the Sandinista Renewal Movement (MRS), a party that was
opposed to the FSLN’s growing internal corruption and “new-class” elitism.
One key reason for this split was that some FSLN leaders, including the
Ortegas, had apparently decided to cash in on other sorts of “golden oppor-
tunities.” As noted, the February 1990 electoral defeat caught the FSLN by
surprise. Assuming they would stay in power, they had not bothered to legal-
ize their expropriations of Somocista assets during the 1980s—hundreds of
millions in land, private homes, cars, TV and radio stations, newspapers, and
many other businesses. In the FSLN’s last few weeks in office, the lame-duck
National Assembly, controlled by the FSLN, rushed through several new laws
that granted titles for all this expropriated property to its current possessors—
in most cases, FSLN party leaders and their supporters.
These measures became popularly known as the Piñata Laws, named after
the candy-filled crepe paper dolls at Latin American birthday parties. The
FSLN defended them as necessary to protect their progressive land reform,
which was unquestionably one of the regime’s most important achieve-
ments.66 Others defended the Piñata as an unavoidable payoff to the FSLN’s
leaders in return for social peace and support for Chamorro’s program.What-
ever the justification, there were many abuses, which made use of all the tricks
in the private bankers’ tool kit.The beneficiaries included former Nicaraguan
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 202
president Daniel Ortega, who latched onto a beautiful home in the fashion-
able El Carmen district of Managua that had belonged to a leading
Nicaraguan banker, Jaime Morales Carazo. It was already chock-full of
Morales family heirlooms, but Ortega and his partner for more than twenty
years, Rosario Murillo, former minister of culture, reportedly added more
artifacts “liberated” from the National Musuem.67 Several other prominent
Sandinistas also enjoyed the benefits of this golden handshake, including
Humberto Ortega, who reportedly became a multimillionaire, and Bayardo
Arce, the Sandinista ideologue, who not only invested in Interbanco but also
became a partner of Chamorro’s son-in-law and future vice presidential can-
didate, Antonio Lacayo, in a supermarket chain.68
During the transition period, the FSLN-controlled Central Bank also
printed cordobas like crazy, providing another enrichment opportunity for
those with access to dollar accounts—like the days of Somoza. There were
also many other stories about FSLN asset grabs during this period. One
Nicaraguan sociologist observed that “the problem was not so much with
those who “only helped themselves to a house . . . but [those] who also got a
second one on the coast, then a third, along with 600 manzanas of land and
800 head of cattle.”69
Tales about Daniel Ortega’s expensive tastes, the widely publicized stories
about Ortega’s alleged sexual abuse of his step-daughter, and the cupula’s pre-
ferred access to dollar shops, transportation, and foreign bank accounts did not
exactly strengthen the FSLN’s reputation as the vanguard party of the
oppressed.70 Nor did it help when, in 1994, former FSLN leader Humberto
Ortega, acting in his capacity as defense minister, ordered Nicaraguan troops
to open fire on demonstrators protesting Chamorro’s austere policies in the
northern town of Esteli, or when Daniel Ortega chose a wealthy landowner,
Juan Manuel Caldera, as his running mate for the November 1996 elec-
tions—an unsuccessful attempt to bolster his standing with Nicaragua’s busi-
ness elite.
Despite all the economic woes, when faced with a choice between
Ortega and his neoliberal opponents, Nicaraguans repeatedly chose the hard-
right neoliberals, who were at least candid about their contempt for social jus-
tice. In November 1996,Arnoldo Aleman, the former mayor of Managua, ex-
Somocista, and bankers’ lawyer, who was jailed by the Sandinistas as a
counterrevolutionary for nine months in 1980, defeated Daniel Ortega by a
49 to 38 percent margin. Aleman, whose father had been an official in
Somoza’s government, ran on the ticket of the Liberal Constitutionalist Party
(PLC), a splinter group from Anastasio Somoza Debayle’s original National
Liberal Party. Despite all his Somocista ties, his victory was greeted enthusi-
astically by Nicaragua’s business community and their US allies. The Ameri-
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 203
ENCORE
President Enrique Bolaños assumed office in January 2002, the third free-
market administration in a row, scheduled to remain in power until 2008, the
thirty-second anniversary of Carlos Fonseca’s death. After twelve years of
neoliberal policies, eighteen years of civil wars and “proxy wars,” forty-five
years of dictatorship, and twenty-one years of US occupation, the Nicaragua
that President Bolaños inherited was not in good shape.
In the first place, his former running mate, predecessor, and fellow PLC
leader, President Arnoldo Aleman, had been one of the most corrupt politi-
cians in Nicaraguan history. In December 2002, he was stripped of parlia-
mentary immunity, placed under house arrest, and charged with diverting
$97.1 million from fifteen state agencies to himself and fourteen of his cronies
and family members, as well as defrauding a TV station of $1.5 million. Inves-
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 205
tigators found $51 million in dirty money in Panamanian and Costa Rican
bank accounts under the control of Aleman’s treasury minister.79 Aleman’s net
worth, which had been $118,000 when he became the mayor of Managua in
1990, increased to an estimated $250 million by the end of his term in 2001.80
There were also strong suspicions about the 2001 privatization of ENI-
TEL, Nicaragua’s telephone company. After failed efforts to sell off forty per-
cent of the company in 1995 and 1999, a consortium formed by Sweden’s
Telia and Honduras’s EMCE—the only bidders—bought the stake for $83
million in August 2001, in the closing days of Aleman’s adminstration. The
IMF applied intense pressure to the Aleman government to sell the phone
company quickly, because it feared that Ortega might win the November
2001 election and then halt the privatization. That, in turn, created an ideal
pretext for a “sweetheart” deal.The bid proceeded despite a court order that
barred it and strong complaints from Managua’s mayor that ENITEL was
actually worth at least $450 million. Among the serious charges under inves-
tigation was the possibility that Aleman himself was a secret “shadow bid-
der.”81 In September 2001, the brother of President Aleman’s biggest cam-
paign contributor, Jorge Mas Canosa, stepped forward to claim that Aleman
had simply pocketed their $2.5 million campaign contribution in 1996.
Apparently Jorge Mas Canosa, too, had had his sights on ENITEL.
Despite all the soot, public officials like Aleman could expect special
treatment from Nicaragua’s hopelessly corrupt, slow-moving court system.As
its comptroller general said in 2001,“Illicit enrichment has not been classified
as a crime. . . .”82 Officials under suspicion could simply depart for Miami or
New York, as more than a dozen of Aleman’s cohorts did in 2001–02.83 The
US (Miami and New York in particular) welcomed them and their bank
accounts with open arms.
Because of Daniel Ortega’s intercession on his behalf, former President
Aleman was able to avoid the trek to Miami. He and his family were permit-
ted to stay under house arrest at one of his estates, costing taxpayers a thou-
sand dollars a day for security.84 Ortega also proposed that Aleman’s ultimate
fate be decided by a national referendum, but that suggestion did not fly.
President Bolaños was also not beyond corruption charges. In November
2002, Nicaragua’s attorney general charged him and Vice President Jose Rizo
with electoral crimes and $4.1 million in fraud during their 2001 presidential
campaign.85 By 2003, virtually the entire political establishment of Nicaragua
was under suspicion, indictment, or living outside the country—especially the
army of neoliberal “reformers” who had promised voters that, unlike the
FSLN, they were practical businessmen who really knew how to manage the
country.
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 206
sis was a striking example of the unintended side effects of globalization and
of neoliberal development banking at its worst. After all, coffee is grown by
millions of small farmers in more than fifty developing countries, including
several of the world’s most heavily-indebted nations—indeed, it is second
only to crude oil as a developing country export. So if you wanted to pick
one global commodity market not to screw up, this would be it. But that did
not stop the World Bank, the IMF, and the ADB from doing so.
Even in the twenty-first century, Nicaragua not only remains at the
mercy of intransigent rightists, corrupt elites, and egomaniacal leftists, but also
at the mercy of massive screwups by half-baked neoliberal experiments
located halfway around the globe—and undertaken by fellow “former social-
ist countries.”88 In 1986, the Socialist Republic of Vietnam’s Communist
Party leadership decided to switch from central planning to a liberalization
policy called doi moi (change and newness). This was partly because Vietnam
could no longer depend on the (crumbling) USSR for huge subsidies. It was
also because senior economists at the IMF, UNDP, World Bank, and ADB
were preaching the glories of free markets and holding out the prospect of
billions in aid.The resulting program, designed with extensive assistance from
the world’s leading development banks, was a controlled version of a standard
orthodox adjustment program. It set out a ten-year plan for export-led
growth, based on opening up Vietnam’s heretofore closed economy to trade
and investment, allowing state-owned banks freedom to lend to individual
borrowers, de-collectivizing the farm sector, and encouraging small farmers
and state-owned companies to develop new cash crops for export.
At the same time, political power was to be kept firmly in the hands of the
Communist Party’s politburo. Despite that slightly illiberal gracenote, from
1993 on, this doi moi economic liberalization package was generously sup-
ported with plenty of advice and more than $2 billion a year in foreign loans
and grants from the Asian Development Bank, the UNDP, Japan’s JIBC,
France’s Development Fund (AFD), the World Bank, the IMF, and the aid
agencies of the US, Sweden, France, and several other Western governments.89
Nicaragua’s forty-four thousand small coffee farmers, the six million small
farmers in forty-nine other countries who collectively produced more than
eighty percent of the world’s coffee beans, and the one hundred million-plus
people whose jobs and livelihoods depended on coffee beans had probably
never heard of doi moi. But they became one of its first targets. Right from
the start, evidently without much thought about collateral damage,Vietnam
and the neoliberal wizards decided to embark on a brave new coffee export
business.
While coffee had been grown in Vietnam ever since the 1850s, produc-
tion and exports had been limited.The domestic market was small and there
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 208
were few facilities to process the raw beans. As of 1990, green bean exports
were a mere 1.2 million sixty-kilo bags per year. But Vietnam’s central high-
lands had rich hills, abundant rainfall, and low labor costs—ideal conditions
for achieving high yields and low prices. This was especially true for low-
grade, easy-to-grow robusta beans. From a consumer’s standpoint, this species
was inferior to the arabica beans grown by Nicaragua, most other Central
American producers, and big producers like Brazil and Colombia. Arabica tra-
ditionally accounted for more than three-fourths of the world’s coffee pro-
duction. But robusta had twice the caffeine content of arabica at half the price,
and it could also be used as a cheap filler and blending ingredient by the giant
coffee conglomerates.
By the 1990s, bean quality was no longer an absolute barrier to entry in
coffee farming. The global market was increasingly dominated by a handful
of giant First World coffee processors, roasters, and grinders, including Nestle,
Kraft, Sara Lee, P&G, the German company Tchibo, and retail store owners
like Starbucks, which generated their own blends. Increasingly, these compa-
nies obtained coffee beans from all over the planet, mixing and matching
them to produce blends that not only satisfied customer tastes, but also min-
imized costs.These global buyers worked overtime on new technologies that
took the edge off the cheaper robusta beans and allowed them to be used for
extra punch and fill.With the help of commodity exchanges, they also defined
standardized forward and futures contracts that allowed them to hedge against
price fluctuations—making for a much more “perfect” global coffee market.
From the standpoint of the small farmers, most of whom did not have
easy access to such hedging devices, “market perfection” was in the eyes of
the beholder.The changes introduced by the giant buyers amounted to a rad-
ical commoditization of the market that they depended on for their liveli-
hoods, and a sharp increase in direct competition. Even as downstream mar-
ket power became more concentrated in the hands of the First World giants,
the farmers’ share of value-added plummeted. In 1984, raw coffee beans
accounted for more than sixty-four percent of value-added in the US retail
coffee market. By 2000, this share dropped to eighteen percent. From 1990 to
2000, while global retail coffee revenues increased from $30 billion to $60 bil-
lion, the revenues earned by bean-growing countries dropped from $10 bil-
lion to $6 billion. By then, for every $3.50 cafe latte sold by Starbucks, the
farmers earned just 3.5 cents.90
The farmers’ shrinking role was due in part to the basic structure of the
global coffee industry. On the supply side, by the 1990s, raw beans were being
exported by more than fifty competing countries. But while a few growers
like Brazil and Colombia tried to break into foreign markets with their own
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 209
processed brands, global First World buyers still dominated processing and
marketing. Many of the world’s leading exporters of processed coffee, like
Germany and Italy, grew no coffee at all.
This long-standing First World control over global coffee processing
stemmed partly from technical factors. There are economies of scale in pro-
cessing, but not in coffee farming—production costs don’t decline much
because farms get bigger. Unlike petroleum or natural gas, which can be
stored for free in the ground, coffee beans are costly to store, and aged beans
have no incremental value. Furthermore, most small coffee farmers depend on
coffee sales for their current incomes. Global coffee demand is not very price-
sensitive and has been growing at a modest one percent per year. All this
means that prices tend to fluctuate wildly with current production, so there
is an incentive for processors to stay out of farming, shifting market risk to
millions of poorly diversified producers. The fact that coffee beans can be
stored 1–2 years, while roasted or ground products have a much shorter shelf
life, favors locating processing facilities close to the final consumer markets.91
And anyone who has been to France, Italy, or Brazil knows that tastes for par-
ticular kinds of coffee vary significantly across countries.
But the coffee industry’s international division of labor is not based only
on technical factors, many of which are actually eroding. It is also based on
long-standing trading patterns and colonial relations; for example, the origi-
nal sixteenth-century role of the Dutch in smuggling coffee plants out of
Yemen to their colony in Java, which fostered Indonesia’s coffee industry. First
World dominance was reinforced by trade barriers that favor the importation
of raw beans over processed coffee.The net result of this would be analogous
to France, Italy and California all being compelled to export their grapes to
Managua, Nairobi, and Jakarta in order to have them processed into wine.
Given the importance of small coffee farmers in debtor countries and the
World Bank’s supposed commitment to “poverty alleviation,” it may seem
surprising that the World Bank, the IMF, and other development lenders
devoted no energy in the 1990s in designing a buyers-cartel-breaking strat-
egy for coffee growing countries, to help them break down this division of
labor and these trade barriers. Instead, the development bankers did just the
opposite, helping Vietnam implement an anti-producer-cartel strategy that
ultimately helped to drive the coffee-producing countries’ association com-
pletely out of business in 2001. Could it be that these First World develop-
ment banks were not influenced by the fact that the world’s leading coffee
conglomerates happen to be based in countries like the US, Japan, France,
Switzerland, and Germany, not far from the development banks’ own head-
quarters?
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 210
COFFEE CONTRAS
port on increasingly crowded plots. In the early 1990s, coffee still offered
greater revenue per unit of land, compared with other cash crops like rice or
peppers, and was actively promoted as a cash crop by state banks, trading com-
panies, and the government.
It took three to four years for a new coffee bush to mature, so the real
surge in exports did not occur until 1996–2000. Then, in just a four-year
period, Vietnamese exports flooded the market. From 1990 to 2002, they
increased more than tenfold, from 1.2 million sixty-kilo bags to more than
13.5 million bags.94 By 2000,Vietnam had become the world’s second largest
coffee producer, second only to Brazil.95 In the crucial market segment of
cut-rate green robusta beans, the blenders’ choice,Vietnam became the world
leader. While other producers like Brazil also increased their robusta exports
during this period, Vietnam alone accounted for more than half of all the
increased exports, which helped boost robusta’s share of all coffee exports to
forty percent.
In pursuing this strategy,Vietnam did not bother to join coffee’s equiva-
lent of OPEC—the Association of Coffee Producing Countries. Indeed, it
acted rather like a scab, providing an incremental eight hundred thousand
metric tons of low-priced coffee by 2000, about the same amount as the
world market’s overall surplus. The giant coffee buyers were quite happy to
buy up low-priced coffee and swap it into blended products like Maxwell
House and Taster’s Choice, using it to discipline other leading supplier-coun-
tries. At the same time, foreign debt-ridden countries like Indonesia, Brazil,
Uganda, Peru, and Guatemala boosted their coffee sales in order to generate
more exports. In September 2001, partly because of this beggar-thy-neighbor
strategy, the Association of Coffee Producing Countries collapsed and was
disbanded.96
The resulting export glut caused world coffee prices to tumble to a
thirty-three-year low by 2002. According to the World Bank’s estimates, this
resulted in the loss of at least six hundred thousand jobs in Central America,
leaving more than seven hundred thousand people near starvation.97 World-
wide, the effects of the coffee glut were even more catastrophic, because the
world’s fifty-odd coffee producing countries included many of the world’s
poorest, most debt-ridden nations. Ironically, just as they were supporting
Vietnam’s rapid expansion into exports like coffee, in 1996 the World Bank
and the IMF had launched a new program to provide debt relief to the
world’s most “heavily-indebted poor countries”—the so-called HIPC pro-
gram. By 2001, the HIPC program had made some progress in debt reduc-
tion, cutting the “present value” of the foreign debts for those countries that
completed the program by an average of thirty percent. However, of the 28
heavily-indebted poor countries that had signed up for the World Bank’s
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 212
the World Bank went out of its way to issue a press release denying any
responsibility for the crisis whatsoever. More precisely, it denied having directly
provided any financing to expand coffee production in Vietnam. It main-
tained that its $1.1 billion of loans to Vietnam since 1996 tried—though evi-
dently without much success—to steer farmers away from cyclical crops like
coffee. It also argued that its lending to Vietnam’s rural sector only started up
after 1996, while coffee production had increased since 1994, and that none
of its investments were “designed to promote coffee production.”The World
Bank did identify two projects that “could be linked” to coffee production: a
1996 Rural Finance Project that helped Vietnamese banks lend money to
farmers and an Agricultural Diversification Project. But the Bank simply
observed that it didn’t dictate how such institutions reloaned their funds.98
Overall, the World Bank basically washed its hands of the coffee crisis—
one of the worst disasters to strike small farmers, their dependents, and debtor
countries in modern times. The World Bank did, however, assure the public
that it was extremely concerned about the plight of these farmers, promising
new lending programs to address their woes.
On closer inspection, this defense had a few holes. Whether or not the
World Bank financed any new coffee farms, clearly the World Bank, the IMF,
the UNDP, and the ADB were up to their elbows in designing, managing, and
financing Vietnam’s economic liberalization program.They played a key role
in pushing Vietnam to liberalize trade, exchange rates, and banking quickly.To
set targets for Vietnam’s macroeconomic plans, they must have known which
export markets the government planned to go after. After all, coffee was not
just another export.After the removal of Vietnam’s quotas on coffee and other
exports in 1990, partly at the request of the IMF, coffee quickly became the
country’s second-leading export behind oil. Coffee continued to be a top-ten
export even after prices cratered. The ADB and the World Bank worked
closely with Vietnam’s Rural Development Bank, the country’s largest rural
lender, to improve management and structure new lending programs.99 They
also advised Vietnam on how to set up a Land Registry, so that rival land
claims could be settled and farmers—at least non-Montagnards—could bor-
row to finance their new crops more easily.
At the same time, far from encouraging Vietnam to work with other cof-
fee producers to stabilize the market or design an overall long-term strategy
to break up the coffee buyers’ market power, the development banks bitterly
opposed any such interference with “free markets”—no matter how concen-
trated the buyers were or how many artificial restrictions were placed by First
World countries on the importation of processed coffee. One senior World
Bank economist observed in 2001, during the very depths of the coffee glut:
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 214
Despite its 2002 press release, the World Bank’s true attitude about this whole
fiasco appears to have been a combination of “not my problem,” sauve qui
peut, and Social Darwinism.
Meanwhile, back in Vietnam, the small farmers of the Central Highlands
learned the hard way about the glories of global capitalism. Thousands of
them were “deciding that it is no longer what they want to do,” but finding
few easy ways out. After the 1999–2002 plunge in coffee prices, Vietnam’s
export earnings from coffee fell by seventy-five percent from their level in
1998–99 to just $260 million in 2001–02. In 2002–03, they fell another thirty
percent. In the Central Highlands, thousands of small farmers—low-landers
and Montagnards alike—had gone deeply into debt to finance their growth.
They were struggling to feed their families and send their children to school,
because market prices now covered just sixty percent of their production
costs.101
Ten thousand miles from Managua, in Vietnam, highland farmers were
having to face the same bitter neoliberal truths that the Nicaraguan farmers
were facing.They had more in common with each other than with the stone-
hearted elites, economists, and bankers who governed their respective soci-
eties, designing futures that did not necessarily include them.
In Vietnam, the resulting economic crisis severely aggravated social and
political conflicts in the Central Highlands. In February 2001, several thou-
sand Montagnards held mass demonstrations in Dak Lak—demanding the
return of their ancestral lands, an end to evictions for indebtedness, a home-
land of their own, and religious freedom (since many Dega are evangelical
Christians).Vietnam responded with a harsh crackdown, sending thousands of
troops and riot police to break up their protests.They made several hundred
arrests and then used torture to elicit confessions and statements of remorse.
They also destroyed several local churches where the protestors had been
meeting. Those protest leaders who did not manage to escape to Cambodia
were given prison sentences of up to twelve years.
From one angle, this was the handiwork of a conventional Communist
dictatorship. From another, it was actually just another example of the repres-
sive tactics that neoliberalism has often used to implement free-market poli-
cies, from Argentina to Zambia. In Vietnam’s case, instead of solving its polit-
ical problems in the Central Highlands, the politburo discovered that their
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 215
NEOLIBERAL DUSK
By the late 1990s, after so many years of economic decline and endemic
corruption, many Nicaraguans despaired for their country’s future. A 1998
nationwide survey found that most adults were very distrustful of public offi-
cials, politicians, and judges. They believed that corruption was widespread
and that it posed a “serious threat to the system’s stability.”105 A nationwide
poll of young Nicaraguans in 2000 found that two-thirds of them wanted to
emigrate. From 1990 to 2000, even after the FSLN’s demise and the end of
the Contra War, the number of Nicaraguans living in Miami increased from
50,000 to 125,000. It has continued to grow since then.106 But most were
professionals and elites who could afford to get visas and relocate and whose
job prospects were better.
For the vast majority of Nicaraguans who could not afford to emigrate,
the situation had been dire enough in 1990, at the end of the contra war. But
after thirteen years of neoliberal bloodletting—under Chamorro,Aleman and
Bolaños, plus misfortunes like 1998’s Hurricane Mitch and the coffee fiasco,
the economic situation became nightmarish.107 In the countryside, where
forty percent of Nicaragua’s 5.2 million people live, the coffee crisis was com-
pounded by many other chronic problems. As of 2003, four out of five peo-
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 216
ple in rural areas still live without sanitization and one-third lack electricity.
Just as the coffee crisis hit, so did another debt crisis. The government
responded by cutting back sharply on rural credit programs, health care, and
infrastructure spending.The coffee growers had made annual contributions to
a government fund that was supposed to protect them against price drops, but
the IMF forced Aleman’s Central Bank to freeze spending and reserves.This
was done not only to contain inflation, but also because the IMF feared that
Aleman’s banditos might abscond with the country’s dollar reserves. This
meant that the coffee price stabilization fund was placed off-limits just when
the growers needed it most.
In April 2001, to protect thousands of coffee growers who were $116
million in debt and on the brink of losing their farms, Nicaragua’s National
Assembly adopted a bill that suspended all farm foreclosures for a year. How-
ever, this bill angered bankers, the IMF, and the IDB, which held up a $50
million loan to Nicaragua, forcing President Aleman to veto the bill. At the
same time, subsidies to politically influential owners of large estates, like Pres-
idents Bolaños and Aleman, actually increased in the late 1990s, while the
Sandinistas’ land reforms came under fierce attack. In 1995, Chamorro had
legalized the transfer of two hundred thousand small homes and farms expro-
priated since 1974, offering their former owners compensation unless they
were members of the Somoza family. Since few people had money to pay
compensation, after President Aleman was elected, many former owners
returned and started to evict tenants aggressively.
By 1997, more than a hundred thousand new occupants were facing evic-
tion proceedings instituted by 5,500 former landlords.The court system was
jammed with twenty-four thousand lawsuits, claiming title to two million
blocks of land and 4,251 houses. Even Bolaños joined the herd, demanding
the return of three farms allegedly taken from him. A new law tried to com-
pensate the old landlords with ENITEL bonds, but few believed they were
good substitute for their properties. Aleman even allowed several Somoza
family members to return from Miami and sue for their old estates, and
appointed one of them to be his ambassador to Argentina.108 The US gov-
ernment, led by Senator Jesse Helms, found a way to support the property
claims of former Somocistas. They simply demanded compensation for US
citizens who had been expropriated, whether or not they had been US citi-
zens at the time of the expropriations. Many Somocistas found it lucrative and
surprisingly easy to obtain dual citizenship just so they could press such
demands.109
Meanwhile, along the country’s northern border, bands of recontras con-
tinued to plague locals with armed robberies, extortion, carjackings, and kid-
nappings. From 1990 to 1998, they were responsible for at least 1,850
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 217
You can’t go out anymore, you can’t wear rings, bracelets, nice shoes, any-
thing that makes us look a little better than we really are. . . .You never feel
safe in the barrio, because of the lack of trust.There always had to be some-
body in the house, because you can’t trust anybody to look out for you, for
your things, to help you, nothing. People only look out for themselves—
everyone, the rich, the poor, the middle class. . . . Life is hard in Nicaragua,
and you’ve just got to look out for yourself. 114
in Fort Benning, Georgia. Cynics described it as one of the world’s first ter-
rorist training camps.119
Among the supposed beneficiaries of all these new drug enforcement
efforts were the growing number of “dump children” living on the streets of
Managua. By the late 1990s, they numbered more than 14,000, including
about 8,500 who had joined the city’s 110 pandillas. Many others had joined
more than 250,000 Nicaraguan children under the age of fifteen who, accord-
ing to Nicaragua’s Labor Ministry, were employed in child labor.120 To han-
dle the daily grind, in the mid-1990s, many turned to sniffing Fuller Glue,
imported from the US for a few cordobas per jar. By the late 1990s, glue had
been displaced by crack cocaine, raising the level of murders, assaults, and
armed robberies. As the pandillas took over retail distribution, Danilo
Blandon’s pioneering role in LA crack cocaine came full circle.
In Las Mercedes Zona Libre, the free-trade zone on the outskirts of
Managua, in a row of hangars surrounded by barbed wire and security
guards, lived thirty-five thousand hard-working Managuans—eighty percent
of whom were women. They worked 12–16 hour shifts, with mandatory
overtime and one 45-minute break, for about $1.50–3.00 per day—one of
Central America’s lowest wage rates. They were employed at more than
eighty new foreign-owned, nonunionized shoe and jeans factories.The Zona
Libre had originally been established by the Somoza government in 1976,
attracting a dozen or so US garment companies. The Sandinistas shut it
down and converted the facilities into state-run factories. In 1992, however,
the Chamorro government revitalized the Zona Libre to take advantage
of the new preferential trade access to the US market that was made avail-
able for a variety of cheap textiles by the Reagan/Bush adminstration’s
Caribbean Basin Initiative (CBI) and its various installments. The new fac-
tories, owned by a variety of relatively unknown Taiwanese, Korean, US, and
European manufacturers, had sprung up to make running shoes, denim jeans,
and other low-end merchandise for retailers like Walmart, KMart, Sears,
Kohl’s,The Gap, and JC Penney, supplying brands like NO FEAR and High
Sierra. They were competing with a growing number of virtually identical
macquilas, free-trade zones that had sprung up all over the Third World since
the 1980s in countries like Mexico, Honduras, Guatemala, El Salvador,
Burma, the Philippines, South China, Lesotho, and Indonesia. They were
encouraged by zero customs duties, zero income tax for the first ten years of
operation, zero social security, pension, or health benefits, limited saftey or
health restrictions, no minimum wages, no unions, minimal restrictions on
hours and other working conditions, and the Zone’s special access to the US
market by way of the CBI’s textile quotas.
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 220
On paper, the purpose of the Zona Libre, which was very popular with
IMF/World Bank economists, was to create jobs, boost exports, diversify
Nicaragua’s economy away from traditional crops like coffee, and alleviate
poverty. In practice, the Zona Libre forced some of the world’s poorest peo-
ple to compete head-to-head on the amount of exploitation that they will
tolerate.
In effect, the Zona Libre was the urban workers’ equivalent of Vietnam’s
coffee export program—an organized, global effort to increase the level of
direct, cost-based competition among poor people. And while each country
that developed a macquila industry could honestly claim to have designed its
own local variant, it was no accident that in the background, cheering these
“pro-export” policies on and rewarding them with adjustment loans, was the
usual cast of First World development experts, banks, governments, and
investors. One former Zona Libre worker described what it was like to work
there: “You’re sitting down all day on a wooden bench with no back. The
lighting isn’t very good, and by the end of the day, you can’t see anything, not
even the hole in the needle. But still they don’t want you to lose even one
minute.”121
In April 2001, when the workers at Chentex—a company owned by
Nien Hsing, a Taiwanese conglomerate and the world’s largest jeans maker—
demanded a little more than the twenty cents they earned per pair of jeans
($20 retail), their organizers were fired.When hundreds of workers protested,
the Aleman government sent in a police squad in riot gear to arrest them.
When a Taiwanese journalist accused President Aleman of “dollar diplomacy,”
since Taiwan had lubricated its business dealings with Nicaragua by paying for
Nicaragua’s Presidential Palace, several roads, and bridges,Aleman labeled him
a “communist.”122 Of course, Aleman had a point; after all, if the workers did
not like the jobs they were offered, they could always “decide that it is no
longer what they want to do.”
Nicaragua’s other neoliberal policy experiments also had very mixed
results. In the financial sector, a premature attempt to liberalize without ade-
quate bank regulation had resulted in several bank failures, notably the demise
of Interbanco in 2000, in which former Sandinista leader Bayardo Arce and
other Sandinistas had invested, at a loss of $200 million.123 Efforts to privatize
the country’s largest state enterprise—the state telephone company—finally
succeeded only with the help of corruption at the country’s highest levels.
In March 2000, the Aleman adminstration also tried to please the IMF by
following in Chile’s footsteps and privatizing Nicaragua’s social security sys-
tem. Most Nicaraguans were skeptical—to qualify for benefits, workers had to
be sixty-five years old with a twenty-five-year work record. Since the life
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 221
expectancy for Nicaraguan males is 66.6 years and only three percent of
Nicaraguans make it to over the age of 65, this program is not likely to be a
panacea. But at least it may be inexpensive.
BLEEDING NICARAGUA
By 2003, Nicaragua’s real per capita income had fallen to $400—its 1951
level. With population growth averaging 2.4 percent a year, the economy
would have to grow at 5 percent a year for more than thirty years just to
recover its “prerevolutionary” 1977 per capita income level.The actual aver-
age growth rate during the 1990s was 1.3 percent. By 2003, underemploy-
ment levels exceeded 60–70 percent in many parts of the country, and the
overall proportion of people living in poverty was 67 percent, second only to
Honduras in Latin America.This means that there are now 1.6 million more
Nicaraguans living on the borderline of existence than in 1990.
In the 1980s, the Sandinistas had been justifiably proud of their health,
education, and literacy programs. Even in the depths of the Contra War, rates
of infant and maternal mortality, malnutrition, and illiteracy had declined.
Infant mortality fell from 120 per 1,000 live births in 1979 to 61 in 1990,
immunization coverage rose, and the share of the population with access to
health care increased from 43 to 80 percent.124 In the 1990s, however, there
were sharp increases in all these maladies, aided by Chamorro’s seventy-five
percent cut in public health and education spending by 1994. 125 By 2000,
Nicaragua was spending almost four times as much on debt service than on
education and a third more than on public health.126 The infant mortality rate
was still thirty-seven per thousand, and the children-under-five mortality rate
was forty-five per thousand, among the highest in Latin America (for com-
parison, Cuba’s equivalent rates were 7 and 9 per thousand.) As of 2000,
twelve percent of Nicaraguan children were underweight, and twenty-five
percent were below average height.127 More than twenty-two percent of chil-
dren under the age of nine—three hundred thousand children—were mal-
nourished.128 By 2000, thirty-seven percent of children were not enrolled in
classes, and illiteracy, which an intense campaign by the Sandinistas in
1980–81 had reduced to fifteen percent, had climbed back up to thirty-four
percent, which was even higher in rural areas. Women’s rights also suffered
acutely, as the church conspired with the conservative governments of the
1990s to ban abortions, even at the cost of higher maternal mortality rates
because of botched illegal abortions.129
Coincidentally, by 2003, Nicaragua’s four hundred dollar per capita
income had become almost identical to that of the Socialist Republic of Viet-
Chapter 05 9/22/03 8:24 AM Page 222
nam. In one of history’s many ironies, these two formerly “leftist” countries
were now passing each other on the globalization escalator, heading in oppo-
site directions. By 1998, according to the statistics published by the UNDP,
Vietnam’s poverty rate had dropped to thirty-seven percent, while adult liter-
acy had reached ninety-four percent, above Nicaragua’s (declining) level of
sixty-three percent. Vietnam’s average life expectancy equalled Nicaragua’s
68.3 years. And far from having a chronic foreign debt problem, Vietnam
became one of the development banks’ darlings, receiving $2 billion a year in
concessional finance throughout the decade, plus more than $30 billion in
foreign investments.Yet Vietnam’s ratio of debt to national income was just
one-tenth as large as Nicaragua’s level.
Furthermore, with all outside help, plus its entry in to the coffee market,
Vietnam’s growth rate averaged more than nine percent a year in the 1990s,
while Nicaragua’s growth stagnated.130 In 2001, when Vietnam’s Ninth Com-
munist Party Congress adopted its “Tenth Ten-Year Strategy” for 2001–10,
B. Relative to Nicaragua
Costa Rica 2.00 2.14 2.74
Panama 1.55 1.74 2.07
Belize 1.48 1.77 2.03
El Salvador 1.03 1.13 1.13
Honduras 0.97 1.06 1.02
Guatemala 0.87 0.99 0.98
Nicaragua 1.00 1.00 1.00
Source: UNDP (2002), JSH analysis © JS Henry 2003
Table 5.1–Relative to more prosperous (haven) neighbors
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 223
the World Bank and the IMF were both on hand in Hanoi to celebrate with
yet another generous structural adjustment loan program—carefully shielded
from any angry Montagnards who might wish to complain.
By the new millenium, out of 173 nations ranked by the UNDP accord-
ing to their “human development” metrics, Nicaragua had dropped from 68 in
1980 to 118. Vietnam is now number 101 and rising. The responsibility for
Nicaragua’s decline can be evenly divided between the Contra War of the 1980s
and the Neoliberal War of the 1990s. Evidently it wasn’t enough to pull off a
revolution and defeat a US-backed puppet army, as both Vietnam and
Nicaragua had succeeded in doing. Daniel Ortega and his comrades must won-
der,“If only we had managed to install a full-fledged, centrally planned Com-
munist dictatorship, as we were often accused of trying to do—perhaps the
world would have been as generous to Nicaragua as it has been to Vietnam.”
History has not been kind to Nicaragua. And high-minded Americans
may be tempted to blame that entirely on its own sorry leaders. Indeed, there
have been quite a few domestic culprits. But much deeper forces have also
been at work. The most powerful enemy of Nicaragua’s development in the
long run has been an interlocking global system of institutions and interests.
It does not require conspiracies. It is self-organizing. It consists of an amazing
array of mutually reinforcing interests. And it takes no prisoners.
In the 1980s, a handful of rather foolhardy Sandanistas challenged this
global system. They made many mistakes and required much on-the-job
training. But at least they tried to stand up. When they did so, they were
attacked, and when they defended themselves, they were portrayed as the
aggressors. Ultimately, they won a victory of sorts, but it left their country in
shambles. Then their neoliberal successors came to power preaching reform
and market freedom, and ended up turning the country into a bantustan. Per-
haps Nicaragua will need another revolution.
Chapter 05 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 224
Blood Bankers inserts 9/18/03 3:59 PM Page A
Figure 1.7–General
Augusto Pinochet and
Dr. Henry Kissinger.
Credit: Universidad
de Alicante.
Figure 8.1–President Truman and the Shah 1949. Credit: U.S. Government.
C HA PT E R S I X
ARGENTINA’S PUZZLE
To the historian of political and economic development, Argentina cer-
tainly presents an interesting set of contradictory tendencies. For decades it
was widely regarded as Latin America’s most developed country, with the
highest per capita income and more skilled European immigrants than any-
where else in the Western Hemisphere except the US. On the basis of its rich
farms, substantial early investments in railroads, roads, and ports, and “human
capital,” Argentina’s income level had already reached the world’s top ten by
the late l920s, on a par with Canada’s and well above Japan’s. Argentina was
also the most cosmopolitan country in Latin America—many members of its
elite spoke English with an Anglo accent, took afternoon tea, played polo,
cricket, and golf, and sent their children off to finishing schools in England
and Switzerland.World-renowned artists like Juan Luis Borges and Mercedes
Sosa are from Buenos Aires. Even now, after three decades of economic
upheaval, the city remains a slightly rundown combination of Paris and
Madrid, with beautiful wide avenues, cafes, more than twenty theaters, and
one of the world’s best operas. Unfortunately, the opera also now has other
associations—it is located right across the plaza where Argentine death squads
in the late 1970s sometimes deposited their victims fresh from meat lockers,
frozen solid in grotesque upright positions.
Because its early achievements were so great and its prospects so bright,
Argentina’s deterioration since the 1970s has been even more striking than
that of Venezuela, the Philippines, or Nicaragua.What happened? Many his-
torians have focused almost exclusively on internal factors, especially the pro-
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 226
of their “rich” country’s wealth to New York, Miami, and Switzerland. In the
case of the military junta that ruled Argentina from 1976 to 1983, their exces-
sively generous lending not only destabilized the economy and helped to pro-
voke a war, but it also financed a brutal reign of terror that Argentina has still
not recovered from. In the case of the neoliberal civilian regime that came to
power in the 1990s, their behavior—combined with unbelievable oscillations
in IMF policy—eventually contrived to make things even worse.
At the same time, the virulently antileftist junta had killed or “disap-
peared” 30,000 of its political opponents.8 The military characterized these
victims as subversives, urban guerillas, and terrorists. But the vast majority
appear to have been completely innocent people who just happened to fit
profiles that the military considered suspicious: students, nuns, social workers,
union leaders, members of Argentina’s liberal Jewish community, journalists,
and university professors.
Of course, Argentina’s urban guerillas—the Montoneros and the ERP—
were not saints. In the 1970s, they conducted numerous kidnappings, includ-
ing one that extracted a $60 million ransom from one of David Rockefeller’s
favorite clients, the family that owned Bunge-Born, a leading commodity
trader.They also killed a former foreign minister and several executives from
GM, Ford, and Chrysler, blew up an Argentine naval vessel, and detonated a
bomb at the Federal Intelligence Department that killed eighteen people. But
the Army’s own investigations later concluded that even at the peak of guerilla
activity in the mid-1970s, the country had less than 1,500 guerillas. Instead of
dealing with the threat surgically, the junta unleashed a wholesale campaign
of terror and extermination. A senior military officer described the junta’s
repression strategy: “First we will kill the activists, then the supporters, and
then the indifferent.”9 The introduction to the official report prepared by
Argentina’s National Commission on the “disappeared” in 1983 provides one
concise view of how this reign of terror worked:
People were taken off the streets, from their homes at night, or from their
workplace in broad daylight and driven blindfolded to detention camps.
Their houses were looted and their property stolen. Most of them lived the
rest of their lives in the detention centers, hooded or blindfolded, forbidden
to talk to one another, hungry, living in filth.The center of their lives—dom-
inating the memories of those who survived—was torture. They were tor-
tured, almost without exception, methodically, sadistically, sexually, with elec-
tric shocks and near drowning, some buried to their necks and left in the sun
and the rain for days. They were constantly beaten, in the most humiliating
possible way, not to discover information—very few had any information to
give—but just to break them spiritually as well as physically, and to give pleas-
ure to their torturers. Most of those who survived the torture were killed.
Disposing of the bodies presented a tactical problem. First they were burned
in mass unmarked pits, but later, a more efficient final solution was discov-
ered.The disappeared were loaded into planes with an open door, flown over
the sea, and then thrown out. Most of them were first drugged or killed, but
some were alive and conscious when they left the plane.10
By early 1982, on top of the economic crisis, all these killings and disap-
pearances of innocent people were undermining the regime’s support among
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 230
ROSARIO I
To rekindle political support for the regime, the head of the junta, Pres-
ident/Lt. General Leopoldo Fortunato Galtieri, decided quite cynically that it
was time to start a war. Analysis of the junta’s decision to invade the Falkland
Islands later revealed that it was made quite explicitly to divert attention away
from all its economic and political woes and unite the country around aggres-
sive nationalism.
Galtieri appeared to be the ideal leader for the job. Fit and good looking,
with striking blue eyes, he was the son of Italian immigrants, a hard-drinking
1949 graduate of the US School of the Americas in Panama. He had served
as commander of the Second Army Corps in Rosario, Argentina’s second
largest city in the northeastern province of Santa Fe. He was perhaps best
known for having set up a political prison and terror laboratory in an elegant
home in Rosario, one of more than 340 secret detention centers opened by
the military all over the country during this period. In Rosario, Galtieri had
presided over a notorious reign of terror, arresting and torturing people for as
little as donating books to the wrong libraries.As he told one female prisoner,
“If I say you live, you live; if I say you die, you die. As it happens, you have
the same Christian name as my daughter, and so you live.”12 When he became
commander in chief of the army, the chain of command for Battalion 601—
the intelligence unit that ran the entire “dirty war”—reported directly to
him.13
In December 1981, Galtieri became the junta’s third military president,
pushing aside General Roberto Viola, who had proved unable to deal with
mounting political opposition and the gathering economic crisis. Galtieri
dusted off the military’s invasion plan for the Falklands, which was code-
named “Rosario.” The invasion was originally scheduled for July 9, 1982,
Argentina’s National Independence Day.This was not just for ceremonial rea-
sons. July was winter in the South Atlantic, with stormy seas that would
greatly complicate any British counteroffensive. Britain was also scheduled to
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 231
retire the HMS Endurance by July, its only military vessel near the Falklands.
Furthermore, by theory, Argentina would have received a new, more lethal
shipment of Exocet AM-39 missiles that it had ordered from France. There-
fore, waiting a few months might well have made a huge difference.14 How-
ever, because of the mounting economic crisis—based, in large part on
Argentina’s excessive debts—Galtieri made the fateful decision to accelerate
the invasion by three months, to April 2. He took this decision not only in
the face of these tactical disadvantages, but also despite a clear warning deliv-
ered in person by former Deputy CIA director and US ambassador-at-large
General Vernon A. Walters. General Walters told a drunken General Galtieri
late one night in March 1982 that Galtieri should “have no doubt the US will
side with the UK if you invade.”15
Another reason why Galtieri ignored Walter’s advice was his firm belief
that the UK didn’t really care enough about the islands to fight hard for them.
As he told a TV interviewer at the time, glass of Black Label Scotch in hand,
the UK was “a country governed by two women—Queen Elizabeth and
Margaret Thatcher. They would not be willing to sacrifice their children.”
Galtieri knew that his real war aim was to force the British to the bargaining
table as fast as possible and negotiate a settlement. He thought this would hap-
pen quickly, without much bloodshed: “I expected them to send four ships,
not a Task Force.”
Equally important, despite General Walters’s warning, Galtieri still firmly
believed that the US would stay neutral and help pressure the UK into a
quick settlement.This view was based in part on his analysis of US interests.
After all, the US had long asserted the Monroe Doctrine with respect to
European colonies in the Western Hemisphere. Since the 1960s, it had also
developed a close working relationship with right-wing regimes in Latin
America, including Argentina, Brazil, Chile, Bolivia, El Salvador, Guatemala,
and Uruguay—the so-called “Operation Condor” coalition, designed to
combat Latin America’s leftists. And influential US banks like Chase and
Citibank had far more outstanding loans with the government of Argentina
than they did with Britain.
The junta also believed that it had many powerful friends inside the Rea-
gan administration. The junta had worked hard to spruce up Argentina’s
image in the US after the 1976 coup. In 1976, it hired the leading US public
relations firm Burson-Marsteller to work on Argentina’s “international image
. . . projecting an aura of stability for the nation, its government and its econ-
omy.”16 In 1979, the junta had retained the influential DC-based lobbying
firm of Deaver and Hannalord—the firm led by Michael Deaver, Reagan’s
campaign advisor and White House deputy chief of staff from 1981 to 1985.
Deaver’s other clients included Guatemala and Taiwan, which also had seri-
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 232
ous image problems in the US. To launder Argentina’s image, among other
things, Deaver saw to it that Economy Minister de Hoz was referenced on
several of President Reagan’s national radio broadcasts. In one of them, Rea-
gan described the last six years under the junta as “one of the most remark-
able economic recoveries in modern history,” and added:
Apparently all these lobbying efforts were helpful.When General Galtieri and
General Roberto Viola visited Washington in early 1981, they got a warm
reception from Richard Allen, Reagan’s National Security advisor, who called
Galtieri a “majestic general.” In addition to Deaver’s lobbying work, this
reception may have been due to Reagan’s gratitude for Argentina’s kind offer
to send trainers to advise the contras in Nicaragua and army officers in
Guatemala and El Salvador on antiguerilla military tactics and interrogation
techniques. In fact, the aid provided by Argentina’s junta to the contras before
1983—compensated by various favors that the US government and US banks
provided to Argentina—may have been an early version of the Iran-Contra
gambit used later by the Reagan administration to provide off-the-books aid
to the contras.
These high-level connections were reinforced by other conversations
even closer to the events in question. On March 8, 1982, shortly before the
invasion, Galtieri met with US undersecretary of state Thomas O. Enders in
Buenos Aires. Enders, a career diplomat, had some military experience, help-
ing to choose bombing targets for the US Air Force in Cambodia in 1973.
He assured Galtieri that the US had “no interest in the Malvinas,” and would
maintain a “hands-off ” position.18
On April 2, the same day that General Galtieri sent 2,500 troops to storm
Port Stanley, the Falklands’ main city, UN ambassador Jeane J. Kirkpatrick was
the guest of honor at a dinner sponsored by Estaban Takacs—Argentina’s
ambassador to the US—and attended by several leading members of the
Argentine military. From Argentina’s standpoint, Kirkpatrick richly deserved
the honor. She was a “neocon” professor at Georgetown and a former aide to
Senator Henry Jackson, who had lost to Jimmy Carter in his bid for the 1976
Democratic Party presidential nomination. In 1979, she wrote a pugnacious
piece that attacked Carter’s human rights policy and tried to distinguish
“moderately repressive” authoritarian regimes—like the Argentine junta—
from “totalitarian” states.19 This theoretical distinction captured Reagan’s
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 233
the war would continue until Britain recovered the islands or Argentina with-
drew. US neoconservatives might wink and nod at “authoritarianism,” but
there would be no appeasement of blatant fascist aggression on her watch.
Haig agreed and continued to argue forcefully for a pro-UK stance over the
next two months, right up until the war’s end. He found his efforts repeat-
edly undermined by Kirkpatrick and White House deputy chief of staff
Deaver, who pushed the contra agenda and wanted Argentina’s help. On June
25, shortly after the war’s conclusion, Haig resigned. The Falklands crisis, on
top of differences over Israel’s invasion of Lebanon, was one of the key rea-
sons. As Haig said later, “There were contacts made with Argentine officials
by the White House which were neither discussed with me nor cleared with
me and which had the practical effect of confusing the issue. . . .”21 On April
3, the UN Security Council passed Resolution 502, which demanded an
immediate Argentine withdrawal and cessation of hostilities. Argentina, with
the support of most other Latin American countries, refused to withdraw,
while Britain refused to cease hostilities. Thus, the war continued until the
UK decisively defeated Argentina in June.
For a very brief time, the invasion did produce the political effects that
Galtieri had been seeking. In early April, less than two weeks after his police
had broken up union protests against the junta’s economic policies in the
Plaza de Mayo, he stood on the balcony of the Casa Rosada overlooking the
same plaza, now filled to capacity, and heard the crowd cheer when he prom-
ised to give Thatcher a bloody nose. But this support proved to be as fleeting
as the Argentine military’s willingness to put up a fight. By June, when the
invasion had proved to be a fiasco and the dead and wounded were coming
home, the support was replaced by revulsion. On June 17, Galtieri resigned in
disgrace. In 1986, he was court-martialed, convicted of “negligence” for mis-
management of the war, and sentenced to twelve years in jail. In December
1989, after serving four years, he was pardoned by President Carlos Menem.
All told, Argentina lost 649 men to Britain’s 272, plus 10,000 prisoners,
all the islands, more than $2 billion in direct war costs, and many billions more
in military preparation costs.The war rattled the nerves of foreign bankers and
greatly exacerbated the 1982 Latin American debt panic. But things might
easily have been worse—with a little better planning and a delay until sum-
mer, most military analysts now agree that Argentina might easily have won
the war. And that, in turn, would have been a disaster for the demilitarization
and democratization efforts of countries like Chile, Brazil, and Argentina.22
Whether or not any particular regime was “merely authoritarian,” what Kirk-
patrick had forgotten was much less important than the total amount of
democracy generated by the international system over time.
Ironically, the main political beneficiary of the Falklands War was not
the junta, but Margaret Thatcher. Until the war, her popularity had plum-
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 235
meted to record lows in the face of rising unemployment. But since March
1982, her approval ratings soared. Most political analysts believed that the
Falklands was the key factor in her decisive victory in the June 1983 British
general elections, which gave her a large majority and helped her stay in
power until 1990.A New York Times editor commented that “Had Argentina’s
invasion . . . not happened, it would have had to have been invented.”23
As for Argentina, ironically, the junta’s invasion and defeat ultimately did
help to bring about a return to popular government with increased human
rights—in the words of some junta critics, “Margaret Thatcher won us our
freedom back.”The defeat utterly discredited Argentina’s repressive, decadent
brand of militarism.After all, in the midst of a deep economic crisis, the junta
had launched a costly war for a worthless bunch of islands where, even had it
won, Argentina would only have become a detested colonialist. It had com-
pletely botched wartime diplomacy. From a technical standpoint, it had also
managed to lose a sure thing, despite the fact that the Falklands was virtually
undefended and eight thousand miles from Britain, and the junta had had
years to prepare a surprise attack. This put an end to the junta’s adventures
with the contras in Nicaragua, as well as its aid to El Salvador and Guatemala.
It also forced the US to revise its whole strategy in aiding right-wing allies.
In the wake of the defeat, Galtieri resigned on June 17, 1982. Over the
next six months, the junta faced mounting protests from war veterans, unions,
and human rights groups.The economic crisis continued to worsen. Demor-
alized, exhausted, and out of ideas, in February 1983 the military announced
that it was relinquishing power and scheduled elections for the fall. In Octo-
ber 1983, in the country’s first elections since the 1976 military coup, Dr.
Raul Alfonsin, a medical doctor, won an upset victory for the Radical Civic
Union (UCR), defeating a Peronist candidate to become the country’s first
freely elected non-Peronist president since l916.
By destabilizing the junta’s economic base and inducing it to launch a
premature invasion that ultimately led to its defeat, Argentina’s excessive for-
eign borrowing had actually helped to restore democracy. But if the banks and
the US government had simply refused to coddle the dictators in the first
place, this salutary result might have been achieved by a much less circuitous,
deadly route.
bankers, bear for it.Twenty years after the junta’s fall, while some senior lead-
ers are finally being brought to justice, hundreds of other military officers have
avoided punishment. Moreover, the vital role played by the regime’s foreign
sponsors has been largely forgotten. Only with the election of President Nestor
Kirchner in May 2003 is this kind of impunity beginning to be undone.
Waging armed combat with opponents who are not entirely helpless was
perhaps just not the Argentine military’s long suit. On April 26, 1982,Alfredo
Astiz, a young Argentine lieutenant, surrendered his entire company to British
commandos on South Georgia, the largest Falkland island, without firing a
single shot.Astiz’s profile provides a good example of the kind of “moderately
repressive” regime that David Rockefeller financed and Jeane Kirkpatrick
apologized for in advance. By the late 1970s, Astiz, while not much of a
fighter, had established a solid reputation on other fronts. He was a notorious
military torturer who brutalized young women. At the time of his surrender
to the British, he was wanted by Interpol on charges of kidnapping and mur-
dering two French nuns, Alice Domon and Léonie Duquet. He was also
reportedly involved in the murders of at least eight other women, including
a seventeen-year-old Swedish girl, Dagmar Hagelin, whom, according to the
Swedish extradition request, he shot in the neck from behind while she was
walking down the street.24
Because Astiz was a prisoner of war, the British did not hand him over to
the French courts at the war’s end, but returned him safe and sound to
Buenos Aires. In 1987, he was arrested and held for five months in Argentina,
and then released under the “Due Obedience” amnesty law signed by Presi-
dent Raúl Alfonsin. The law pardoned all those who had been “following
orders,” regardless of what they had done.25 In 1990, a French court indicted
Astiz in absentia and sentenced him to life in prison. In July 2001, he surren-
dered to an Argentine court, which considered the extradition requests from
France, Sweden, and Italy. In January 2002, these requests were rejected again,
and he was released in Buenos Aires—the only restriction being his inability
to travel outside the country.26 One woman who had experienced Astiz’s
handiwork firsthand recalled, “He was very brave when all he had to do was
murder unarmed women. . . .”27
Many other Argentine military officers also committed serious crimes,
including pushing prisoners out of airplanes, stealing and selling babies taken
from pregnant political prisoners, raiding their victims’ bank deposits, and
latching on to their farms and homes. Former army commander general Jorge
Rafael Videla, the junta’s first president from 1976 to 1981, was a dapper, mus-
tached, urbane fellow who had a taste for English-tailored suits. He also took
a professional interest in the fine points of torture, particularly in understand-
ing how long different victims could hold out under alternative forms of
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 237
punishment. In 1985, General Videla was sentenced to life in prison for his
role in the death squads.28 In 1990, he was pardoned by President Carlos
Menem. But in 1998, an Argentine judge ruled that Videla could be charged
for infant trafficking. More than five hundred babies had been seized by the
military from their imprisoned mothers shortly after delivery, often by forced
C-sections. Senior officers like Videla had been directly involved.The children
were issued new identities and sold to couples seeking adoptions who had
friends in the military.Apparently the motivation for this baby trade—in addi-
tion to greed—was political:The junta feared that if the orphans were allowed
to grow up knowing what had become of their parents, they would become
diehard opponents of the military. So it was not enough for the regime to
“disappear” adults—they also needed to rob their children of their identities.
Because Videla was over seventy by the time of the baby charges, he was per-
mitted to remain under house arrest. In July 2001, he was indicted again for
conspiring to eliminate political opponents in the 1970s, after an Argentine
judge invalidated the two amnesty laws adopted in the late 1980s.29
In 1985, the junta’s second president Roberto Viola, a 1971 graduate of
the US military’s School of the Americas in Panama, was convicted of mur-
der, kidnapping, and torture. He was sentenced to seventeen years.30 In
1998–2000, baby-stealing charges were brought against junta members Admi-
ral Emilio Eduardo Massera, General Renaldo Bignone—the junta’s fourth
and final president—and several other senior officers.31 In late 1983, shortly
before the restoration of democracy, General Bignone ordered the burning of
all documents regarding missing persons, condemning their relatives to a life-
time of not knowing what had happened to them.Admiral Massera, who also
ran the 1978 World Cup soccer franchise, was convicted in 1985 of murder-
ing three Argentines, including Hector Hidalgo Sola, Argentina’s ambassador
to Venezuela. He was sentenced to prison, but he was freed by President
Menem in 1990. However, he was convicted in the baby-stealing case and
confined to house arrest. In October 2001, he was also charged with being
part of a ring that had stolen the property of three business people who had
disappeared.32
Even now, the truth about this period is woefully incomplete. However,
bits and pieces of the brutal, bank-sponsored regime’s story have continued to
surface. In the mid-1990s,Adolfo Scilingo, a former naval officer, decided that
he could no longer remain silent. In 1997, he testified in a Spanish court that
1,500 Argentine naval officers under the command of Admiral Massera had
participated in “death flights,” where more than 4,400 political prisoners were
flown out to sea, drugged, and dropped into the ocean. He himself confessed
to having pushed thirty prisoners out the door.33 “I thought that we were
fighting a war, but it was a genocide,” he said. In 1998, Spanish prosecutors
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 238
charged four other officers, including Astiz and General Antonio Bussi, gov-
ernor of Tucumán Province and former head of Argentina’s Third Army.34 In
2000, a court in Italy convicted seven other officers in absentia of kidnapping
and killing Italian citizens.35
As for General Galtieri, in November 1999, a Spanish court indicted him
and ninety-five other military officers on charges relating to the disappear-
ances of six hundred Spanish citizens during the 1976–83 “Dirty War.”36
Galtieri had already been court-martialed and sentenced to twelve years in jail
in 1986, not for human rights crimes, but for professional negligence. But he
was also pardoned by Menem after serving four years. However, in March
2001, in the midst of Argentina’s deepest economic crisis, a courageous fed-
eral judge, Gabriel Cavallo, finally struck down the amnesty laws that had pro-
tected thousands of Argentine military officers and “soldiers” accused of such
crimes. In July 2002, another judge charged Galtieri and twenty-eight other
senior officers with human rights violations. Galtieri, frail and suffering from
pancreatic cancer, was placed under house arrest on charges related to the
abductions and killings of nineteen Montoneros members while he was
Rosario’s regional army commander. In January 2003, awaiting trial on these
charges, he died of a heart attack.
In August 1997, President Menem announced that Argentina would issue
$3 billion in government bonds in compensation to the relatives of the “dis-
appeared.” Many families refused to apply for the payments.As one Las Madres
de Mayo member who had lost her nineteen-year-old son commented, “Life
does not have a price.” But more than eight thousand families did apply, at
$200,000 of bond face value per victim.37 Unfortunately, because of its
renewed debt crisis, Argentina became virtually bankrupt after 2000, so the
market price of the “victim bonds” fell to zero. Like all the junta’s other debts,
the bonds remain unpaid.
minister after Galtieri’s fall, admitted in July l982 that “the debt is now over
$35 billion” and declared that “the time has come to explain without
hypocrisy what the money was used for.” A few weeks later, Domingo Cav-
allo, the junta’s undersecretary of the interior in 1981 and its last governor of
the Central Bank in 1982, produced a larger estimate that kicked off a bewil-
dering debate. 38 Then in September 1982, Argentina finally admitted that it
was $2 billion behind on interest payments, and asked for the IMF’s help.
Throughout the fall of 1982, a team of IMF technicians and bankers
poured over the Central Bank’s debt records in Buenos Aires to get a handle
on the precise size of the foreign debt. One Morgan banker recalled their
frustration:
The Argentines would sit across from us and present different numbers every
time we met. And none of the foreign banks knew, either. It took Morgan,
which was one of the better-organized banks, four months to know what
our loans were. Bank of America and Citibank took a lot longer. Mean-
while, the British and the French bankers were not even talking to each
other. They were at each others’ throats over the Falkland Islands—we
almost had fistfights in Advisory Committee meetings.39
lem of the Argentine military’s foreign debt. This was kept entirely off-the-
books, so there is still no precise estimate of its size. After the junta lost the
war, few banks were willing to step forward and admit having helped finance
it. But most experts agree that the military had borrowed at least $10–12 bil-
lion from foreign banks.43 Most of this disappeared into arms purchases, and
quite a bit also ended up in junta member’s personal offshore accounts.
Ironically, because of Argentina’s close historical ties to the UK, it turns
out that a large chunk of this military debt was actually arranged by British
banks. During the year prior to the Falklands invasion, Lloyds, National West-
minster, and Barclays Bank had packaged more than $2.4 billion in syndica-
tions for Argentina, with much of it financing the Argentine military by way
of state-owned conduits like YPF, the state oil company.44 This unprincipled
lending helped to finance arms imports, and, as noted, the economic strains
caused by Argentina’s unmanaged debts were a key factor behind Galtieri’s
decision to invade. This was not unique: excessive foreign debts have often
played a role in precipitating military interventions.45
Argentina’s October 1983 debt survey turned up just $2 billion of offi-
cial unreported military debt. But there really was a great deal more. When
Argentina halted debt service in l982, all these loans were quietly written off,
never appearing in any official statistics. Some consisted of supplier credits
from French companies like Dassault-Breguet and Aerospatiale for Super Ete-
nard and Mirage fighters and Exocet missiles. Other secret loans were
obtained by army-owned companies like SOMISA, a steel company, and Fab-
ricationes Militares, or by state banks and nonmilitary state companies that
diverted loans to arms projects. For example, two German submarines were
purchased by the Argentine Navy in l979, funded by a $406 million Deutsche
Bank syndication that was “officially” made to Banco de la Nación, a state-
owned bank.46 Other key conduits included Aerolinas Argentina and YPF,
which absorbed $6 billion. Aerolinas’ lead bank was JPMorgan;YPF’s credi-
tors included Chase, Lloyds, Barclays, Deutsche Bank, Citibank, SBC, and
Bankers Trust.YPF was a military preserve—its chairman from l981 to 1983
was Guillermo Suarez Mesa, commander of the First Army Corps, who was
later convicted of being personally involved in torturing and “disappearing”
people.47 On March 12, 1982, just two weeks before the invasion, two syndi-
cated loans to YPF totaling $242 million were signed in Paris, led by Chase
Manhattan and Bankers Trust. Even while US officials like Secretary Haig and
General Walters were trying to deter Argentine aggression, US banks and their
UK counterparts were quietly financing it.
As in Venezuela, undisciplined borrowing by Argentina’s 350 state com-
panies also financed a great deal of funny money. Nearly $11 billion of for-
eign loans went to unprofitable state entities whose losses totaled more than
$2 billion a year.48 Another large chunk financed military honey pots like the
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 241
July 1978 World Cup championships. The junta spent over $700 million on
this little party. And it had other costs. To win the championship, Argentina
needed a four-point spread over Peru in the semifinals. It won 6-0. Shortly
thereafter, Peru received an entire nuclear research facility, courtesy of
Argentina.
A substantial share of Argentina’s debt also ended up in the generals’ pri-
vate accounts. One Buenos Aires money manager who had strong ties to the
military and got “a piece of the action” during the soccer games recalled the
spirit of the times:
Every General had his pet projects. For Jorge Videla, it was the World Cup;
for Roberto Viola it was a huge Argentine power dam at Yacyreta; for
Galtieri, it was the Malvinas War contracts. The Navy, under Admiral
LaCoste, the minister of Social Security, and Admiral Massera, ran the Soc-
cer Cup franchise.They ran the kickbacks on the construction. It was stan-
dard—“The country needs it, but everybody’s making a dime, so why not?”
We called it “butter on the ceiling”—you throw it up and a little bit sticks.
There used to be a barber in Buenos Aires,“Alfredo,” who was famous
for introducing people to do these deals. I remember one deal with OSN,
the public water works, in 1976.The head of the company was a retired mil-
itary guy. He wanted a $120 million loan, so he went to Chase, Bank of
Boston, and Morgan. The “haircut” was ten percent; Chase got the loan.
Alfredo’s piece was $50,000.49
RIDING BICYCLES
As for Argentina’s private debts, while Venezuela had implicitly encouraged
its private sector to borrow and send money abroad, Argentina’s Central
Bank, under the leadership of de Hoz, explicitly provided strong incentives to
do so. De Hoz was a colorful figure: a patrician Eton graduate, cattle breeder,
professor of agrarian law, and the chairman of Argentina’s largest private steel
company. He was a fanatical disciple of Milton Friedman’s brand of free-mar-
ket economics.The generals were a bit less concerned with doctrinal purity,
so long as de Hoz took care of their soccer games, salaries, bank accounts, and
arms imports. But de Hoz also took care of de Hoz.Within days of his father’s
death, he abolished death duties, avoiding estate taxes on one of Argentina’s
largest fortunes.50
Of course, one reason why right-wing ideologues rose to power in the
first place was that many of their predecessors among the Peronists had been
equally mad. De Hoz’s inheritance from the Peronists in 1976 included high
inflation and huge deficits. He responded with a curious mixture of decon-
trol and increased intervention. On the one hand, he eliminated ceilings on
interest and exchange rates and restrictions on foreign investment. Banks that
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 242
had been nationalized by the Peronists were quietly returned to their former
owners, including Chase and Morgan. On the other hand, de Hoz instituted
free insurance for bank deposits. After l978, he also interfered with the peso’s
free fall, permitting it to become sharply overvalued. His landowner/mone-
tarist prejudice was that Argentine industry was doomed to noncompetitive-
ness anyway, and that a strong peso would increase import competition and
help curtail inflation. Of course, an overvalued peso also pleased the mili-
tary—the country’s largest single importer and one of its largest exporters of
dollars to offshore accounts.
In the state sector, which accounted for almost a third of Argentina’s
national income, de Hoz privatized a few state enterprises and tried to cut
spending. But many of these reforms were blocked by the military or the state
bureaucracy.To finance his continuing government and trade deficits, de Hoz
relied on bankers like Rockefeller. The resulting combination of high inter-
est rates and guarantees against exchange risk encouraged everyone who
knew a friendly foreign banker to borrow abroad.51 The outcome was a huge
surge in foreign debt, interest rates, and imports, on top of a crushing reces-
sion in the regular economy. Contrary to President Reagan’s glowing
appraisal of de Hoz’s policies, the only sectors of the Argentine economy that
performed well during this period were banking, arms imports, luxury
imports, large export-oriented farms, the construction of soccer stadiums, and
the market for stolen babies. Imports grew by forty percent in l979–81, even
as domestic bankruptcies and unemployment rose sharply. Meanwhile, strikes
were outlawed and wages were forced to lag behind inflation. Despite these
antilabor policies and the surge in imports, inflation never fell below eighty
percent.
But for the banks, it was party time.The exodus of capital flight from the
country raged side by side with all the foreign borrowing. Anyone could see
that the junta’s economic policies, on top of the repression, were approaching
a dead end. Financial deregulation, combined with the new deposit insurance
program, provided bankers irresistible opportunities to seek new deposits by
promising exorbitant interest rates. Domestic banks levered themselves to the
hilt and made risky loans, often to their owners’ companies.The whole situ-
ation became a merry-go-round, which ignored the elementary fact that even
a free-market economy requires honest bank inspectors. But the Argentine
Central Bank’s poorly paid inspectors were for sale to the highest bidder. One
Buenos Aires banker recalled:
You had a situation where, overnight, our bank would increase its interest
rates by, say, fifteen percent.The staff would work until 11 P.M. handing out
coffee and biscuits to people who queued up to put their money in.We were
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 243
promising eighty-four percent, adjusting our rates once a day. And nobody
was looking over our shoulder—or if they did, they got paid to look else-
where. Everyone was doing it. It was a great time to be a bank inspector.52
We didn’t need any credit analysis to justify those Seguro loans. De Hoz and
the Argentine government was guaranteeing high returns to its friends, so
why not lend? The idea that Argentina itself might stop paying was just too
theoretical. De Hoz wanted the dollars to finance the military—he didn’t
give a shit who brought the loans in or who took them out so long as the
money kept flowing. And, quite frankly, neither did we.53
Once registered with the Central Bank, the bogus loans entitled you to buy
dollars at very favorable exchange rates in order to “repay” them under the
Seguro de Cambio program. Given soaring inflation, the gap between the
peso’s value when the loans were registered and when they were due was
huge. The program became a license for the insider elite and their private
bankers to coin money.
For instance, in l979, someone who borrowed $1 million could trade it
for 130,000 pesos from the Central Bank. Without de Hoz’s program, he
would have needed 180,000 pesos to repay the loan a year later.The guaran-
tee allowed him to buy $1 million for the original 130,000 pesos. Instead of
repaying the loan, he strolled down the street to his neighborhood black mar-
ket dealer and traded the $1 million for 180,000 pesos—an immediate thirty-
eight percent profit. Interest on the loan also qualified for special exchange
rates and tax deductions. Furthermore, the “loan” provided a convenient
explanation if anyone asked where the dollars came from.With creative back-
dating of documents and more borrowing, endless variations of this basic
scheme were possible. All of them were out-and-out frauds on Argentina’s
Treasury that added significantly to the country’s foreign debt, even as they
simultaneously stimulated capital flight.54
Of course, ultimately,Argentina’s economic czars were responsible for this
horseplay. In fact, most of them profited from it. Roberto F. Alemann, who
succeeded de Hoz as economy minister from December 1981 to July 1982,
went on to become UBS’s private banking representative in Buenos Aires.55
But none of this bicycle round-tripping would have been possible without
the active collusion of Argentina’s largest creditors, including Citibank, Chase,
Morgan, The First National Bank of Boston, the major Swiss banks, and
MHT. All these members of the global banking cupola were deeply involved
in crooked deals, while lending heavily to Argentina’s government and deliv-
ering patronizing lectures about the need for free market-oriented policies in
Argentina. They all sat on Argentina’s Advisory Committee of Banks in
charge of restructuring its debt. And two of Argentina’s largest government-
owned banks, Banco de la Nación and Banco de la Provincia de Buenos
Aires, were also deeply involved in facilitating bicycle round-tripping.56
The foreign debt generated by the Seguro de Cambio program totaled
$9.3 billion. Most of this simply disappeared into private pockets.All of it was
later assumed by Argentina’s government. In December 1983, the Alfonsin
government asked major banks like Chase Manhattan to report on whether
specific loans under this program had been backed up by “borrower guaran-
tees” (foreign deposits, which would have indicated the existence of back-to-
back loans). As in the case of Venezuela, the banks simply refused to answer.
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 245
Another $5.5 billion of private foreign debt was also nationalized by the gov-
ernment at the behest of foreign banks and leading multinationals.Among the
main beneficiaries of that program were Citibank, the First National Bank of
Boston, Deere & Co., Ford, Chase, IBM, and Bank of America. All told,
Argentina nationalized nearly $15 billion of private debt, most of which was
completely fraudulent.
So in December 1983, on his first day in office, President Raúl Alfonsin
received several pieces of bad news. First, he learned that Argentina’s generals
had absconded with more than $1 billion of the Central Bank’s reserves.
Argentina’s coffers were almost empty when Alfonsin took office—only $200
million remained. Second, the October debt survey had identified $44.8 bil-
lion of regular foreign debt and $1.2 billion of interest arrears, for a grand
total of $46 billion—twenty-five percent above the highest previous esti-
mate.57 Relative to exports, as of 1983, Argentina had the highest debt bur-
den of any country in Latin America except Bolivia—whose debt had just
been restructured by Argentina’s Central Bank—and $20 billion of this
Argentine debt was due in less than a year. The new debt survey also told
Alfonsin that speculative private borrowing and the junta’s arms buildup
accounted for nearly half of this debt, including $20 billion that de Hoz had
borrowed from l979 to l982.
Armed with all this, one might have expected Alfonsin to demand a lit-
tle leniency from the foreign banks. But over the next five years, his new civil-
ian government stubbornly continued to service the foreign debt, signing
IMF agreements and cutting back sharply on spending and growth. Despite
all these sacrifices, all of Argentina’s leading foreign creditors, including Chase,
Morgan, UBS, Bank of Boston, and Citibank, basically stopped lending to the
country.They claimed this was because of Latin America’s overall debt crisis.
But many Argentines knew better—the bankers secretly pined for the gener-
als, who had been much more lucrative to deal with. When David Rocke-
feller Sr., Chase Manhattan’s CEO, visited Buenos Aires in January 1986, he
was greeted by thousands of angry demonstrators.They might not know pre-
cisely where the bodies were buried or even how many bodies there were,
but they certainly knew who had helped to pay for the burials.
As in Venezuela and the Philippines, Argentina’s heavy debt burden was-
n’t simply a question of the absolute size of its debt. The same policies that
accounted for the debt had also ruined the economy and fostered a costly
war. By 1983, in addition to the debt, the junta’s short-term legacy included
average incomes that were twenty-five percent below their l975 levels, a sharp
fall in investment, high inflation, and a huge amount of private wealth that
was permanently outside the country.
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 246
THE SEQUEL
Most of the key foreign patrons of Argentina’s junta readily shifted their
concerns to other targets once it lost power. Among the key principals,
Chase’s David Rockefeller, Sr. retired as its chairman in 1981 and then
focused his attention on numerous private foundations.With respect to Latin
America, his most important roles were as honorary chairman of the Coun-
cil on Foreign Relations; the chief benefactor of Harvard’s David Rockefeller
Center for Latin American Studies, which he founded in 1994; and founder
and international cochairman of the Americas Society, a post he shared with
ex-Citibanker William V. Rhodes.
Jeane J. Kirkpatrick continued to serve as Reagan’s UN ambassador and
White House cabinet member until 1985, staunchly supporting the adminis-
tration’s other Latin American ventures in countries like Nicaragua, El Sal-
vador, and Guatemala. She then became a professor at Georgetown and a sen-
ior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute. Michael Deaver continued to
serve as Reagan’s deputy chief of staff, played a major role in his 1984 cam-
paign, and then left in 1985 to join the leading D.C. PR firm, Edelman
Worldwide, as its vice chairman.
In Argentina, one of the more interesting career paths was that of junta
lobbyist and Kirkpatrick friend Wenceslao Bunge. In 1983 he turned up as
the founder of an organization called the Argentine-American Forum.58 By
the 1990s, he had become the key advisor, confidant, intermediary, and prin-
cipal spokesperson for Alfredo Yabrán, a Syrian émigré and Argentine billion-
aire who was very close to Carlos Menem. In August 1995, Yabrán was
described by Finance Minister Domingo Cavallo in testimony before
Argentina’s Congress as Argentina’s “head of the mafia” and “Public Enemy
No. 1.” According to Cavallo,Yabrán, who ran a huge courier-service busi-
ness, had benefited greatly from Argentina’s privatization program, employing
a large number of ex-military officers who were veterans of the “dirty war”
as security guards and couriers. Cavallo told a TV interviewer, “Yabrán is no
ordinary businessman. He uses front men and is the head of a criminal asso-
ciation that controls the postal service and aims to control the issue of pass-
ports and identity documents—everything that has to do with the movement
of people and goods.”59
At the time, Argentina’s Congress was voting on a bill to privatize the
postal system, and Yabrán was the leading candidate to acquire the entire sys-
tem. In fact, his companies were among the leading beneficiaries of
Argentina’s privatization program in the 1990s. Yabrán also reportedly had
close ties to former members of the junta, like Admiral Emilio Massera.60
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 247
Domingo Cavallo, the junta’s last central Bank governor. To everyone’s sur-
prise, Menem made Cavallo his foreign minister in 1989–90, and then his
finance minister in 1990–96.
Cavallo, a well-connected Argentine with a Harvard Ph.D. in economics,
proceeded to design a package of neoliberal reforms that included all the
usual elements—take the rapid privatization of state enterprises, sharp budget
cuts, the liberalization of trade and capital markets, privatization of the social
security system, and deregulation. But his most unique contribution was the
ultra-neoliberal April 1991 “Plan de Convertibilidad.” The plan was essen-
tially an attempt to put the Central Bank and Argentina’s inept political classes
in a monetarist straightjacket, to end hyperinflation once and for all. It cre-
ated a currency board that pegged the peso’s value at one peso per US dol-
lar. Adopted by Argentina’s Congress, the plan required another act of Con-
gress to undo it.The purpose of this was to guarantee that anyone who held
pesos could count on being able to convert them to dollars.The idea was that
such a guarantee would encourage people to hold more pesos. Since the Cen-
tral Bank was required to meet any selling pressure on the peso by automat-
ically selling foreign reserves, and since reserves are a key component of the
money supply, this would automatically cut inflation—which was always the
result, in monetarism’s simple-minded view, of “too much money chasing too
few goods.” Furthermore, key economic interests, knowing that the peg was
there and that Argentina would collapse if it were abandoned, would suppos-
edly believe the peg would last forever, and be more willing to trade, invest,
lend, and maintain deposits in Argentina.
In effect, the plan was a bootstrap, an attempt to substitute a rigid rule for
good government and for Argentina’s total lack of financial credibility. The
plan placed several huge bets: first, that Argentina’s economy would be able to
generate enough dollar exports to service all the foreign investment and new
debts encouraged by liberalization and privatization; second, that global credit
markets would finance Argentina until it did so; third, that the dollar would
maintain a stable relationship against the currencies of other key Argentine
trading partners in Europe and Asia, like the euro and the yen; and fourth, that
the process of globalization going on all over the developing world would not
interfere with Argentina’s exports or its financing. Unfortunately, all of these
assumptions eventually proved to be problematic.
For the time being, however, Cavallo’s jerry-built scheme created the
appearance of success, just as de Hoz’s first round of “neoliberal chemother-
apy” had done back in 1970s. From 1991 to 1994, inflation fell sharply,
deposits returned to the banking system, credit markets surged, and foreign
capital rushed in—especially foreign bonds and bank loans, since many pri-
vatizations were financed with debt. Buoyed by the surge in investment, cheap
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 249
private investors. The deals also provided opportunities for generous fees and
lending to foreign banks, plus enormous corruption payoffs for leading mem-
bers of the government. All this was wildly popular with the Argentine elite,
foreign investors like Telefonica, and the banks that structured and financed
most of these deals. By 1994, Menem and Cavallo had become neoliberalism’s
poster boys, lionized by the IMF, the World Bank,Wall Street, and Argentina’s
traditional lead banks, now consolidated into JPMorgan Chase, FleetBoston,
Citigroup, CSFB, and Bank of America. In the 1990s, these banks issued more
than $88 billion in Argentine-backed dollar bonds. By the end of Menem’s
second term, 154 state enterprises had new private owners.
CUL-DE-SAC
Despite its early successes, by the late 1990s, Cavallo’s neoliberal strategy
had run into a brick wall. By then Argentina had exhausted all the easy
reforms—new sources of revenue, politically acceptable spending cuts, and
other quick fixes were getting harder to come by. On the other hand, it
seemed that the hard work of genuine product/market innovation, micro-
economic strategy, and productivity improvement did not receive nearly as
much attention from Argentina’s government or its business elite.
On the revenue side, stiffer tax enforcement, which had never been
Argentina’s strong suit, was bitterly resisted by the elite. While tax collection
did increase somewhat from its miserably low level of the 1980s, it remained
stuck at a modest 12–13 percent of national income. Indeed, the national tax
take was even lower, once the flourishing underground economy is taken into
account. And less than a fifth of all tax revenue came from income taxes.
After 1998, economic growth also slowed to a crawl. The economy
became increasingly constrained by the need to maintain tight money to sup-
port the vaunted peso.The strong peso made imports and foreign loans arti-
ficially cheap, even as it stifled exports. Export growth slowed and the trade
deficit increased.The country struggled to maintain the dollar peg under the
impact of the 1995 Mexico crisis and the sharp 1998–99 devaluations by Asia,
Russia, and especially Brazil,Argentina’s largest customer and competitor.The
dollar—artificially strengthened by the Internet bubble in the US stock mar-
ket also rose against most other currencies. Since Argentina’s peso was tied to
it, that made everything Argentina produced more expensive, except for its
exports to the US. For the majority of Argentine exports that were sold else-
where, the combination of the rigid peg and the sharp devaluations by its
competitors made its exports much less competitive.
Despite all its reforms, Argentina’s competitiveness and productivity did
not improve nearly enough to offset the stronger peso. The result was that
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 251
from 1990 to 2000, exports as a share of GDP averaged just 9.2 percent—
about the same as during the 1980s, and well below the 15 percent export
share achieved by Latin America as a whole and 24 percent by all developing
countries during the 1990s. From 1991 on, Argentina’s external balance—
exports minus imports—was consistently negative.
Despite mounting evidence that convertibility was a dead-end policy and
that the peso was overvalued,Argentina refused to devalue until it was far too
late.There were several reasons. For Cavallo and other technocrats, including
the IMF’s top economists, convertibility had become an idée fixe. Given
Argentina’s peculiar experience with hyperinflation, this obsession was partly
understandable. But eventually any such peg needs to have some flexibility.
On the contrary, Cavallo and his successors decided to “double down,” tak-
ing on even more foreign debt on the bizarre assumption that this would
somehow make investors more confident that the policy would never be
abandoned—because the cost of doing so would be astronomical.
Once again, Argentina had entrusted its future to doctrinaire authoritar-
ian personalities whose egos were wrapped up in half-baked theories. But the
convertibility policy was not designed in a vacuum—there were also power-
ful interests at stake. These included local companies and banks whose rev-
enues were received in pesos, but had borrowed heavily abroad in dollars; any-
one who had loaned such companies money; middle-class consumers, who
enjoyed artificially cheap imports; those who didn’t care, because they traded
in commodity markets that were priced in dollars or in markets where
demand was not price-sensitive; and private bankers and speculators who
made a good living out of moving dollars in and out of Argentina freely, run-
ning the same kind of “roundtrip” schemes that had surfaced in the late
1970s.As its elite and bankers speculated against the peg’s lifespan, in the late
1990s Argentina once again became a major capital flight supplier, just as the
early 1980s. It also became a leading money-laundering center—including
among its clients the senior members of Mexico’s largest drug cartel in Juarez,
who started moving money through Citibank accounts to Argentina.66
Argentina’s increasingly unsavory financial situation was also complicated
by the fact that by the late 1990s, most of the large privatizations had already
been completed—there was not much “family silver” left to sell off. And the
results had been very mixed. At the microlevel, many privatizations—at least
those outside the banking sector—increased efficiency and profits, and
reduced government spending by removing loss-making state enterprises
from the budget. At the macrolevel, however, by rushing through all the pri-
vatizations at once, the government have reduced the average prices obtained
for the deals, since the world only had so much demand for Argentine risk.
Furthermore, the congestion also increased unemployment levels dramati-
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 252
improve the trade balance, and control debt.The rapid liberalization of finan-
cial markets ultimately conflicted with the need to generate a stable environ-
ment for free trade. And the neoliberal insistence on implementing all these
reforms at once meant that they collided in the hallway, and left almost every-
one worse off—except the elite, their bankers, and selected government offi-
cials.
In September 2001, just three months before Argentina defaulted on its entire
foreign debt, the IMF expanded its standby credit to $21.6 billion and
increased Argentina’s actual use of this money to $8.3 billion. The IMF pre-
dicted that if neoliberal policies were continued, real growth in 2002 would
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 254
be 2.5 percent—despite the fact that its own estimates showed Argentina’s
2001 growth rate as negative.72 In fact, Argentina’s actual real GDP growth
rate turned out to be –3.4 percent in 2001 and an incredible –10.9 percent
in 2002—the lowest growth rates in Latin America and Argentina’s worst
since at least World War II.
Throughout all these overpredictions, the IMF continued to insist that
Argentina stick religiously to Cavallo’s original neoliberal script. Indeed, the
farther Argentina departed from the IMF’s rosy projections, the more blood-
letting the IMF demanded of it. A secret September 2000 Technical Memo-
randum of Understanding between the IMF and Pedro Pau,Argentina’s Cen-
tral Bank governor, indicates the kind of harsh regimen that the IMF
demanded in exchange for all these credits. Even in the midst of a deep reces-
sion, with unemployment and poverty at record levels, the IMF’s Memoran-
dum of Understanding demanded that Argentina continue slashing its budget
deficit from $5.3 billion to $4.1 billion in 2001, cut emergency unemploy-
ment benefits from $200 per month to $160, cut civil servant salaries another
12–15 percent, and slash pension benefits—all the while maintaining Cavallo’s
rigid peg of the peso to the dollar.73 The IMF also demanded the privatiza-
tion of the nation’s largest remaining state-owned bank—Banco de la
Nación—a move that was especially controversial because Banco de la
Nación held the mortgages on more than fourteen million hectares of prime
Argentine farm land. In effect, as Argentina’s nationalistic farmers quickly
noted, this would have amounted to turning over the country’s best land to
the foreign banks.
So by early 2001, after a decade of high real interest rates, a rigid peso,
slow growth, and increased import competition, Argentina’s economy was
knee-deep in bankruptcies, unemployment, and poverty. Tax collections and
export earnings were plummeting, adding to the government’s deficit blues.
Despite the IMF’s generosity, the country was on the brink of exhausting its
capacity to take on any new foreign loans to defend the peso. By early 2001,
Argentina’s $280 billion economy had accumulated a $146.2 billion foreign
debt.This was more than twice the $65.2 billion that Cavallo and Menem had
started with in 1989, and more than three times the $46 billion debt that was
inherited from the junta in 1983. Debt service was by far the largest single
item in the government’s budget, accounting for more than forty-one percent
of all government spending and ten percent of national income. In fact, but
for debt service,Argentina’s government, having followed the IMF’s prescrip-
tions by ruthlessly slashing all noninterest government spending, would have
actually run a $10 billion budget surplus in 2001. But its $16 billion debt
service bill more than offset this surplus, forcing it back in the red.That year
alone, debt service cost the country fifty percent more than it spent on edu-
cation and almost as much as it earned from all foreign trade.
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 255
Meanwhile, even as the IMF and the World Bank were putting more of
their public money at risk in Argentina, sophisticated private investors and
banks were heading for the exits, insuring themselves against the possibility
that Argentina’s iron peg policy would fail. This was an odd spectacle, with
public money being liberally applied to subsidize a policy that was ostensibly
designed to promote free markets, even as private capital was voting with its
feet and fleeing the country.
Capital flight, which Cavallo had proudly claimed to have squelched,
took off again in the late 1990s. By 2001, an estimated $130 billion had left
the country, more than half of it flowing to foreign bank accounts.74 The
cumulative value of all this privately owned “flight wealth” outside the coun-
try was almost certainly much greater than the value of Argentina’s foreign
debt, but there was no way for the government to tax the dollar earnings that
it generated. To stem the tide, the government was compelled to bribe for-
eign bondholders and banks to continue to hold Argentine bonds. Yields
surged to more than seventeen points over LIBOR by July 2001, and by
November 2001, just before default, to sixty-one percent. At those interest
rates, default risk was clearly on everyone’s mind. And the high rates implied
that every single penny of the $40 billion public bailout arranged by the IMF,
the World Bank, and other public lenders effectively went right out the back
door to pay interest costs to private lenders and finance private capital flight.
The Central Bank’s reserves continued to fall throughout the year.
Since Argentine banks owned a large share of Argentine bonds, the grow-
ing perception that the government might default spooked many private
depositors and eventually led to a run on the banks. Indeed, Argentina’s gov-
ernment later blamed small savers for decapitalizing the banks in an attempt
to justify the deposit freeze of late November 2001, which barred more than
twelve million small depositors from withdrawing more than $1,000 per
month from their accounts, forcing many of them into hardship or even
bankruptcy.
However, a closer analysis reveals that the worst—and first—“asset strip-
pers” and flight artists were not small savers, but the private foreign banks.
From February to November 2001, they quietly reduced their credits to
Argentina’s financial system by more than $25 billion. During this period,
deposits from individuals fell by just $18.6 billion, mostly just after July, by
which time most of the “big bank” flight had already occurred.75 At the same
time, the banks also reduced their assets outstanding—mainly loans—by $37.4
billion. More than sixty percent of these reductions were accounted for by
Argentina’s top ten foreign banks, including Citibank, FleetBoston, BBVA,
JPMorgan Chase, and HSBC.These banks also arranged to swap most of the
unguaranteed Argentine bonds in their portfolios for $40 billion in govern-
ment-guaranteed loans and to convert other liabilities back into domestic
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 256
peso debt at favorable exchange rates.76 Long before Argentina’s small savers
decided to take their savings out of the shaky banking system therefore, the
world’s most sophisticated banks decided it was time to beat an “orderly, silent
retreat”—under the cover of the IMF’s glowing forecasts and generous
loans.77
Just a few weeks later, in May 2001, Cavallo announced that Mulford’s
Credit Suisse First Boston (CSFB) had assembled a syndicate of six other
banks, including JPMorgan Chase, Citigroup’s Schroder Salomen Smith Bar-
ney (SSSB), Hongkong Shanghai Bank (HSBC), and the Spanish banks Banco
Santander, Banco Popular/Banco de Galicia, and BBV/Banco Frances. They
had agreed to handle what later became known as the Megacanje (Megaswap),
one of the largest and most irresponsible debt swaps in developing-country
history.This was the second of Argentina’s record-setting debt swaps.The first,
in February 2001, had involved just $4.2 billion. Before that, the previous
record was Venezuela’s $500 million swap in July 1998, which exchanged
shorter-term debt for twenty-year bonds with a fourteen percent yield. In his
June 2001 megaswap, Cavallo offered to exchange $29.5 billion of Argentine
bonds, including $13 billion maturing between 2001 and 2005, for $63.8 bil-
lion of new bonds that would only be due in 2005–13.The swap package also
included about $2.3 billion of entirely new debt.
At first glance, almost all Wall Street analysts pronounced this deal a
home run, a brilliant scheme that would buy Argentina the time it needed
to get itself in order.79 Cavallo predicted that it would restore growth to six
percent or more and eventually reduce Argentina’s debt burden. Mulford
described it as “essential to long-term success in restoring Argentine
growth.”80 The IMF issued a statement saluting “the successful conclusion of
the debt swap offer . . . which should permit a substantial reduction of the
gross financial requirements through 2005.” It was overscribed by eager
holders of existing bonds, including many foreign investors, less than six
months before Argentina went belly-up.
Whatever the merits of the megaswap for Argentina were, Mulford’s syn-
dicate of foreign banks made a killing on it. The seven banks split a 0.55%
commission on the deal—$140 million—just for placing the new bonds.
They also got a windfall in the form of bonuses that Argentina paid bond-
holders to convert, including higher interest payments, since most of them
had old bonds to exchange. And as was later revealed in charges filed against
Cavallo and the banks in Argentina’s federal court in 2002, they also pocketed
an additional $150 million by secretly revising the terms that had already been
approved by Argentina on the eve of the swap.81
As several more careful observers noted at the time, the swap’s fine print
contained much cause for concern. The new debt introduced by the swap
carried much higher yields. The trade-off was unusually unfavorable to
Argentina—compared with the 12.1 percent yields that Argentine debt
maturing in 2010 carried in February 2001, for example, the new debt prom-
ised yields of 15–17 percent. It also promised to increase Argentina’s long-
term debt burden significantly in exchange for a rather modest short-term
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 258
munity center in Buenos Aires.87 In the course of the inquiries, it was deter-
mined that Menem had at least $10 million in two Swiss banks accounts at
UBS (Geneva) and Banque du Gotthard (Zurich) in the names of his ex-wife,
his daughter, and Ramon Hernandez, Menem’s personal assistant.88 Eventu-
ally, in November 2001, Menem was released, when Argentina’s Supreme
Court—several of whose members he had appointed—dismissed the charges.
But the case sent shocks through Argentina’s already shaky financial system.
Despite the initial “success” of the megaswap, by July 2001, yields on
Argentine debt had climbed another fifty percent, capital flight was surging
again, and people were beginning to speculate openly about the prospects for
default.At this point, Cavallo persuaded his friends at the IMF to provide one
more bailout, releasing $8 billion from its standby lines in August. He also
appointed Mario Blejer, a senior IMF economist who had worked for the
IMF for twenty years, as Central Bank governor. But these measures failed to
stem the tide. In September 2001, Stanley Fischer—one of Cavallo’s best
friends at the IMF—gave his farewell address and left to become vice chair-
man at one of the few clear beneficiaries of the IMF’s lending to Argentina—
Citigroup.
With yields on Argentine bonds soaring above twenty-nine percent, Cav-
allo grew increasingly desperate. He flailed at academic economists who crit-
icized his debt swap, calling them “mad intellectuals.”89 He tinkered with
taxes and pension fund contributions, introducing a tax on financial transac-
tions—a belated recognition that perhaps financial markets had become a lit-
tle too perfect. He also tried another megaswap, involving more than $60 bil-
lion in government bonds. Designed by Merrill Lynch’s Jacob Frenkel, it
pressured pension funds, banks, and insurance companies to exchange their
existing bonds for new ones backed by future tax revenues, but promised a
maximum yield of only seven percent, with repayment delayed an extra three
years. Cavallo rationalized this last-ditch measure on the grounds of equity
and affordability:
Any reasonable person knows that Argentina cannot grow if it has to pay
interest on its debt that ranges between eleven percent to twenty-five per-
cent—and in the case of some provinces, up to thirty percent a year. [We]
seek to ensure payment on the basis that Argentina is viable and to stop try-
ing to pay [interest rates] that only reflect the march of Argentina towards
default. It’s a question of telling the truth.
But banks are not noted for responding to such appeals. From their perspec-
tive, given Argentina’s incredibly risky situation, the terms of Cavallo’s new
swap were perhaps the most easily refusable offer ever made. Conspicuously
absent from the offer was any Brady Plan-like debt guarantee by the US Trea-
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 260
sury, the IMF, or the World Bank. By then, the IMF had already decided to
cut its Argentine losses.With Stanley Fischer gone and Argentina continuing
to miss its IMF targets by a mile, US treasury secretary Paul O’Neil was look-
ing askance at further generosity. Since US bank exposure to Argentina had
already been substantially reduced by the ‘quiet retreat,’ the IMF had no polit-
ical support for disbursing any more loans. Indeed, there were even reports
that it was thinking seriously about recommending that Argentina devalue. In
a final plea, Cavallo dispatched President de la Rua to Washington DC to
meet with President Bush, who backed the debt swap plan, but didn’t offer
any financial aid. Credit rating agencies like Fitch viewed this last debt swap
rather differently than President Bush; they classified it as a “distressed
exchange” that put Argentina in default.90
As all these other measures failed to produce results, Cavallo turned his
back on his free-market roots. At the end of November, he froze all private
bank deposits. The freeze put an end to convertibility by establishing
exchange controls. In early December, he confiscated the assets of all pension
funds—including those that had been created by his social security reform—
and forced them to invest their cash in Argentine bonds. He also tried to slash
the salaries of public employees, which had already been sharply reduced over
the past decade, by another thirteen percent.91 As usual, Cavallo, the banks,
and economists at the IMF and the World Bank underestimated the popular
opposition to such policies. These measures only succeeded in provoking a
full-scale uprising, including riots and looting throughout Buenos Aires on
December 20–21 that left twenty-seven people dead, one thousand injured,
and more than two thousand in jail. Argentina had not seen such popular
opposition to its government since June 1982, after the Falklands debacle.
On December 20, Cavallo resigned. President de la Rua followed him
into retirement on December 21, fleeing the country in a helicopter. On
December 23, his interim replacement, President Adolfo Rodriguez Saa,
announced that Argentina would default on $95 billion of commercial for-
eign debt. This was the largest debt default in developing-country history. It
affected more than sixty percent of Argentina’s entire foreign debt, which by
then had reached $155 billion. Eventually the country also halted debt serv-
ice on most of the remaining debt for over a year.
On January 1, 2002, Eduardo Duhalde, another Peronist, was sworn in as
the fifth president in less than a month. One of his first acts was to officially
abolish Cavallo’s peg, permitting the peso to float freely for the first time since
April 1991. Free to seek its own value, the peso suffered a real depreciation
of 150 percent in one month.Trade collapsed and unemployment soared.The
depreciation was partly due to an overreaction to all the bad news, but it val-
idated all those who had long maintained that the currency was greatly over-
valued. To stem the outflows and prevent even more banks from failing,
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 261
ROSARIO II
In the town of Rosario, General Galtieri’s hometown, a wig maker in
February 2002 advertised that, because of the peso’s collapse, he could no
longer afford to import raw materials and would buy hair locally. The
response was overwhelming. More than four hundred people showed up in
two days, including several who peddled twenty miles on bicycles just to col-
lect three to four dollars for their hair. “We paid for some hair of poor qual-
ity,” the factory owner commented.“But we did it because people were des-
perate. They didn’t have money to buy food, and they even offered us their
children’s hair.”When a truck carrying two dozen cattle to a local meatpack-
ing plant overturned, a crowd of four hundred people quickly gathered and
butchered the animals on the spot to feed their hungry families.
By April 2002, official unemployment in Argentina had reached twenty-
four percent and Cavallo was (temporarily) in jail, charged with helping Pres-
ident Menem facilitate the illicit arms sales to Croatia and Ecuador in the
1990s. Only half of those still employed had full-time jobs; sixty percent of
the population had fallen below Argentina’s $110/month poverty line. For
those still lucky enough to have jobs, wage cuts and involuntary increases in
work hours became standard. Consumption of food and medicines fell
sharply, and an estimated twenty percent of Argentine children—2.3 mil-
lion—were malnourished, with scores dying. In Buenos Aires, it became
common to see whole families begging together. Each night, up to a hundred
thousand cartoneros prowled the streets, searching for food in garbage cans and
trying to earn a few dollars by recycling waste materials. Middle-class Argen-
tines were reduced to selling their furniture and other household goods to
Chapter 06 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 262
make ends meet. Aid workers told heartrending stories of fastidious older
gentlemen, carefully dressed in suits and ties, waiting patiently in breadlines
each morning. In June 2002,Telecom Argentina, one of the privatization pro-
gram’s proudest achievements, announced that its net equity value had fallen
to $30 million, less than two percent of its value in January 2002. Apparently
most Argentines were having so much trouble affording necessities that basic
phone service had become a dispensable luxury.92 Whoever could afford it
either emigrated or moved their money abroad. In 2002–03,Argentina expe-
rienced an exodus of both financial capital and skilled labor. In late 2002, the
country also defaulted on all its debts to the World Bank and the IMF, join-
ing the ranks of Iraq and Zimbabwe as countries that had also defaulted on
loans from these institutions. In March 2003, Argentina’s Supreme Court
ruled that Duhalde’s “pesofication” decree had been illegal and that domestic
banks owed Argentina’s depositors at least $10 billion in compensation. But
there was no money to pay them. 93
As for the architects of this disaster, from April to June 2002, Domingo
Cavallo was jailed on illegal weapon sales charges, but was soon released. In
September 2002, to help Cavallo out, New York University’s Stern School of
Business appointed him distinguished visiting professor. David Mulford and
Jacob Frenkel returned to their respective posts at CSFB and Merrill Lynch,
and Stanley Fischer joined Citigroup, where he served alongside former Trea-
sury Secretary Robert Rubin, the chairman of Citigroup’s Executive Com-
mittee. Lawrence Summers became president of Cavallo’s alma mater, Har-
vard University. Released from prison in November 2001, the
seventy-year-old Carlos Menem and his thirty-six-year-old beauty-queen
wife turned their attention to the April 2003 presidential elections, which he
lost to Nestor Kirchner, the progressive governor of a southern province.
All this happened in a country that is still the world’s fourth largest food
exporter, with fifty million cattle and thirty-seven million people—Latin
America’s cultural capital, which also once boasted that it was the continent’s
most developed country. Most observers agree that it may take decades to
recover from this latest debacle. Hans Tietmayer, head of Germany’s Bundes-
bank, remarked in 2002 that “Argentina is condemned to insignificance, prob-
ably forever.”94 Tietmayer may well be wrong—after all they have been
through,Argentines are certainly among the world’s most resilient people. But
it is true that far from being done with the past, this rich/poor country con-
tinues to be haunted by it. And this is not only because of its own leaders’
admittedly gargantuan mistakes, but also because of its long-standing incestu-
ous and ultimately quite toxic relationship with people like Rockefeller,
Kirkpatrick, Fischer, and Mulford, and institutions like Chase, Citibank, UBS,
and CSFB.
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 263
C H A P T E R S EV E N
BANKING ON DICTATORSHIP
When you cut the tail off a dog, you don’t cut it an inch at a time.
—Professor Milton Friedman,
advice to General Pinochet, Santiago, March, 1975
Who knows what political system works best? All we ask is, can they pay
their bills?
—Thomas C.Theobald,Vice Chairman, Citibank, 1981
We would bring in the money every day, and the money would literally go
away the next day.
—Angel Gurria, Mexican Director of Public Credit
One of the global debt crisis’s few redeeming features is that it helped to
rid the world of some noxious dictatorships. In some cases, like Iran, the suc-
cessor regimes offered little improvement. But in other cases, human rights
violations and corruption declined. At least the notion that unelected tech-
nocrats who have unfettered discretion will do a better job with economic
policy has finally been discredited. General Alfredo Stroessner’s regime was
one of those that crumbled.The son of a Munich brewmaster and an officer
in Paraguay’s artillery unit, he seized power in 1954 at the age of forty-two.
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 264
With the help of rigged ballots, censorship, a vigilant secret police, and graft,
he and his party—the Colorados—proceeded to win the next eight elections
with more than ninety percent of the vote. By February 1989, Stroessner had
become the world’s oldest dictator, well ahead of Indonesia’s Suharto and
Zaire’s president-for-life Mobuto.
Stroessner’s longevity was certainly not due to his tolerance and gen-
erosity. His opponents faced long prison terms, exile, torture, and death.
Paraguay also became a sanctuary for all sorts of right-wing criminals on the
lam, including Dr. Josef Mengele, the Auschwitz doctor who holed up there
for twenty years and could often be found drinking beer with “die Alte Kama-
raden” in Asunción’s German bars; former Gestapo agents Auguste Ricord and
Christian David of “French Connection” fame, who made Paraguay a key
transit point for heroin; and convicted murderers of General Pinochet’s oppo-
nents in Chile.1 Despite such unsavory guests, by all the standards of the dic-
tator’s handbook—stability and enrichment, if not geographic expansion—
Stroessner was a huge success. Before his regime Paraguay had had 22
Presidents in 27 years. Surrounded by Brazil,Argentina, and Bolivia, with only
3.9 million people to defend its rich cattle, cotton, and soybean farms, it was
constantly at war, one of which in the 1870s had cost it four-fifths of its male
population. Stroessner’s internally-focused brand of fascism brought the
country stability, peace and new sources of illicit income, while his German-
trained secret police kept the opposition divided and voiceless. He struck
profitable deals with his neighbors, including two hydroelectric projects that
greatly enriched his own family as well as many Brazilian and Argentine offi-
cials. He also made himself useful to his fellow fascist regimes in Brazil, Chile,
Argentina, and Bolivia, in projects like Condor. And until the very end,
Stroessner was also a master at distributing the fruits of power widely enough
to tranquilize potential rivals.
For example, General Andres Rodriguez, a key supporter of the l954 coup
and commander of Paraguay’s US-trained First Army Corps, was permitted to
acquire Cambio Guarani, Paraguay’s largest exchange house; TAGSA, an air
taxi service; the Aeroclub of Paraguay, which owned a valuable airstrip near
Asunción; several cattle farms; and an immense white-and-yellow mansion
that was built as a miniature version of Versailles. His daughter Marta married
one of Stroessner’s two sons.2 Asked how he got so rich on a meager army
salary of four hundred dollars per week, Rodriguez’s answer was simple: “I
gave up smoking.”3 In l976, he was reported to have facilitated drug exports
to the US, and in l984, his chief of staff (and the future police chief) was
accused of importing large quantities of chemicals needed to make cocaine.4
Under Stroessner’s long reign, a growing share of the economy dis-
appeared off the books. Paraguay never quite became the international bank-
ing haven that Panama did—it lacked Panama’s central location and strong US
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 265
relationship, which was rooted in the Panama Canal. But Paraguay did master
most of Panama’s other black arts. Officially its exports in the l980s and 1990s
averaged just $500–800 million a year and consisted mainly of cotton and soy;
in fact, they averaged more than $1.5–2 billion, and consisted mainly of con-
traband: electronics, whiskey, soy, sugar, coffee, gold, perfume, and drugs.A huge
market also developed for fraudulent passports, illicit arms, and stolen goods—
Brazil’s car thieves supplied half of Paraguay’s eighty-five thousand cars.5
With the help of this invisible economy, up until the Latin American debt
crisis in the early 1980s, Paraguay’s legitimate economy performed rather well.
Incomes grew at an average rate of 1.4 percent from l955 to l972 and then
accelerated to 3 percent until l982.The growth spurt took place mainly because
of the $20 billion Itaipu Dam. General Stroessner became very close to the
project’s organizers, especially Brazil’s Jose Costa Cavalcanti, the director gen-
eral of Itaipu Binacional. Brazil loaned Paraguay $400 million and channeled
hundreds of millions more to Paraguayan engineering, insurance, and con-
struction companies, including several owned by General Stroessner himself.6
Costa Cavalcanti is hard to forget for another reason. In l982, Chase’s
International Private Banking department in New York mistakenly mailed
several of his bank account statements to the wrong address in Brazil. The
recipient happened to be a member of the opposition PMDB Party. In l986,
the statements came into the hands of Dilson Funaro, Jose Sarney’s assertive
second finance minister, and eventually to me. The statements show that
Costa Cavalcanti’s Chase accounts contained no less than $138 million—
quite a hefty sum for a former general and lifelong public utility executive.7
In any case, despite its vibrant underground economy, Paraguay’s growth
slowed considerably after l982. Spending on Itaipu and Argentina’s massive
Yacyreta-Apipe Dam peaked, there were several bad harvests, and the global
debt crisis crimped Paraguay’s trading partners. The country also started to
feel the burden of its own $2.4 billion debt. Much of this had disappeared into
poorly conceived projects, like a $500 million French cement plant that failed
to work.8 About $1 billion was owed to Bank of Boston, Citibank, Chase,
Lloyds, American Express Bank, Bank of America, and BNP. Another $400
million was owed to Brazil, $416 million to the World Bank, and $400 mil-
lion to the IDB.9 By 1984, Paraguay had contracted a serious capital flight
problem: its foreign assets came to be worth more than half its debt.
All these problems, plus Stroessner’s age and illness, eroded his political
base. In the late 1980s, a succession battle erupted between General
Rodriguez’s traditionalists, who favored a greater role for the Colorado Party,
and the “militants” led by Stroessner’s oldest son Gustavo, who favored a
nepotistic solution to succession. Their rivalry broke out into the open at a
contentious party convention in August 1987. In late l988, the traditionalists
were propelled into action by a destabilizing series of events. Stroessner
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 266
Overall, this evidence provides clear support for the hypothesis that the US—
Miami in particular—was the Stroessner clique’s main banking haven and
trading post.We also note the unusually large number of calls placed to north-
ern Virginia, a place not usually regarded as an international banking center.
Was that just another kind of haven relationship?
CHILE’S “MIRACLE”
I remember the Chilean coup of September 1973 very clearly. I was attending a
graduate economics course at Harvard taught by a protégé of Professor Milton Fried-
man. One of my fellow students, Sebastian Pinera, a member of one of Chile’s oldest
families and the future owner of the airline LanChile, got word halfway through the
class that Allende had been ousted. He was ecstatic—“We won!” he cheered. The
professor shared in his delight. Like many other US economists, he saw the overthrow
as a victory for the neoliberal doctrines preached by leading University of Chicago
economists like Friedman and Arnold Harberger, who both later consulted directly for
Pinochet’s junta. Over the next twenty years, “Los Chicago Boys” came to exert a
strong influence on Chilean economic policy.The label was a little unfair to Chicago—
there were also many Ivy League disciples of hard-shell free market doctrines. Dr. Jose
Pinera, my classmate’s brother, was also Harvard trained. He later became one of the
main architects of Pinochet’s labor policies, which banned strikes, closed union shops,
privatized pension funds, and sharply cut real wages, jobs, and unemployment bene-
fits. In hindsight, Pinochet conducted the first in a series of experiments by the New
Right that culminated in the neoliberal programs of Margaret Thatcher, Ronald Rea-
gan, and a lengthy list of Third World imitators. In First World democracies, their pro-
grams were moderated somewhat by the need for popular support. In countries like
Chile, Mexico, and Argentina, however, where the lines between rich and poor were
starker and the political systems were rigged, much less time was wasted on democratic
niceties. To their credit, a few principled conservatives were bothered by the resulting
alliance between dictatorship and liberal economic reform. But many others got lost in
bogus distinctions between “authoritarian” and “totalitarian” regimes. In Chile’s case,
the resulting repression produced more than four thousand disappearances and extra-
judicial killings, thousands of secret arrests and tortures, and sixteen long years with-
out free elections, in a country that had previously been one of Latin America’s most
democratic countries. As Herr Friedman reportedly told General Pinochet at a Santi-
ago audience in l975, “When you cut the tail off a dog you don’t cut it off inch by
inch.You cut it off at the root.”
But these points are very general, and repression is very concrete. I remember a
1974 lecture by Chilean economist Orlando Letelier, who was killed in l976 by a car
bomb planted by the DINA, Pinochet’s secret police, in Washington D.C. And I
remember Victor Jara, a talented Chilean folk singer and guitarist whose music I greatly
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 269
admired.When the junta seized power, he was arrested and transported to a soccer sta-
dium in Santiago where “political” prisoners were held.The police took him out in front
of the crowd and they cut off his hands. . . .
was actually a prolonged period when several different economic camps com-
peted for the junta’s favor. But Friedman and Harberger, dean of the Univer-
sity of Chicago’s Economics Department, tipped the balance when they vis-
ited Chile in March 1975. Since the 1950s, with help from the Rockefeller
and Ford Foundations, Harberger had developed a close relationship between
the University of Chicago and Chile’s Catholic University, where he had
taught as a visiting professor. With support from the Rockefeller and Ford
Foundations, scholarships were provided for bright young Chileans who
wanted to study economics. Many of these Chicago-trained economists
returned to Catholic University to teach, and they later served in Pinochet’s
government. Their trip was sponsored by Javier Vial—head of the business
group BHC, one of Chile’s largest conglomerates, and the eventual owner of
Banco de Chile, the country’s largest private bank at the time, and sixty other
companies. He was also a very strong supporter of Pinochet’s dictatorship, on
personal terms with the General.14 Friedman reportedly received $30,000 for
the three-day trip. His wife Rose objected to the visit because Pinochet’s hard
right regime and the goose-stepping Chilean military reminded her of Nazi
Germany. Professor Friedman tried to assuage her guilt by requesting the
release of two Jewish political prisoners in the custody of Pinochet’s police.
Unfortunately, the two Jewish prisoners were never located.
Just one month after the visit, in April 1975, the junta introduced an
orthodox, monetarist “shock plan,” along the lines that Friedman and Har-
berger had recommended. Professor Friedman’s Chicago-trained protégé
Sergio de Castro replaced Fernando Leniz as minister of the economy. Other
key neoliberals on Pinochet’s economic team included Pablo Baraona, presi-
dent of the Central Bank, Alvaro Bardon and Jorge Cauas Lama at Treasury,
Rolf Lüders as treasury minister and minister of the economy, and Juan Car-
los Mendez as director of the budget.
This tiny band’s shared vision of Chile’s future was one that later became
common among neoliberal Third World governments—a Latin version of a
low-wage, export-oriented Asian tiger, with weak unions, low inflation, pri-
vatized pension funds, and a minimal state—apart from the police, the mili-
tary, and the national copper company, most of whose income went to the
military. To pursue this anti-Marxist utopia, they started out with a sharp,
recessionary shock.They banned strikes, abolished price controls for food and
housing, and slashed tariffs from a hundred to ten percent in just two years.
The junta also introduced Latin America’s most radical privatization pro-
gram ever. In l973–74, more than 250 nationalized companies were returned
to their former owners, and 200 more were sold off at bargain prices. These
were not the middle-class privatizations of France, Japan, or the UK, where
the buyers included millions of small investors. Like other developing coun-
tries, Chile had a very thin capital market, and hard times had made it even
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 271
thinner.The big buyers at this fire-sale were a handful of closely held groups
like Javier Vial’s and Cruzat-Larrain’s, which owned most of the local banks
and had very strong ties with foreign banks.15
All these changes set the stage for the dictatorship’s 1977–81 phase, which
was described at the time by The Wall Street Journal’s neoconservative edito-
rial page—in even more glowing terms than it had reserved for the Argen-
tine junta—as “the Chilean economic miracle.” Indeed, during this brief
period, when the economy was recovering from the sharp recession that Los
Chicago Boys had engineered, growth averaged 5–8 percent a year. But what
was perhaps most miraculous was the regime’s inability to foresee that its eco-
nomic policies—in addition to increasing poverty and inequality—were
about to cave in on each other, completely bankrupting the country and forc-
ing the nationalization of the entire private sector.
By l977, the junta had wiped out any organized political opposition and
achieved most of its early economic goals. But the neoliberal ideologues
pushed it to new extremes. Under Dr. José Pinera’s radical 1979 Plan Labo-
ral, the government abolished closed shops for unions and tried to privatize
everything from health care and pensions to education.The 1980–81 pension
fund privatization substituted a “fully funded” system administered by pri-
vately managed pension funds owned by institutions like Citigroup and
Aetna. They came to dominate the new, highly concentrated private system
that replaced the old “pay-as-you-go” government system. But this pension
reform was probably the most successful of the neoliberal reforms.16 Others
succeeded only in cutting social spending, while military spending and sacred
cows like the nationalized copper company were spared. The copper com-
pany was famous because of the uproar it provoked when Allende seized it
from Anaconda in 1971. But Pinochet kept it nationalized—a secret law gave
the military ten percent of its profits. So even under the junta, Chile’s largest
enterprise and exporter remained “socialist.”
In any case, the junta’s most important neoliberal experiments—and
worst mistakes—concerned macroeconomic policy. The point man was Dr.
Sergio de Castro, a Los Chicago Boy who became Pinochet’s second finance
minister in l979. Like Argentina’s de Hoz, de Castro was a strict believer in
the monetarist view that the best way to fight inflation in small economies
like Chile was by eliminating tariffs, deregulating capital and trade, and main-
taining a fixed exchange rate. So he fixed Chile’s peso at thirty-nine to the
dollar and held it there from July l979 until June l982.With copper prices in
a slump and the size of the state sector shrinking, this was only possible be-
cause foreign banks were willing to lend money hand-over-fist to Chile’s pri-
vate sector. Foreign banks were sympathetic to Pinochet’s conservative econ-
omists, much as they had been to Argentina’s, and they were flush with cash
and very competitive, given Chile’s high real domestic interest rates.
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 272
where oil tankers en route to Santiago started to turn around and head
home. De Castro was forced to resign, and his replacement quickly declared
that the junta would assume responsibility for the private foreign debt
(though not its offshore flight assets.) In the words of one Chilean banker,
“Pinochet achieved what Allende only dreamed of—the complete so-
cialization of our private sector.”19
Nor was this the end of the story.When Pinochet’s fourth finance min-
ister, de Castro protégé Hernan Buchi, took office in l985, he had to embark
on yet another, even larger round of privatizations simply to rid the govern-
ment of all the debt-ridden companies that had been acquired through forced
nationalization. Subsequently, foreign bankers, the World Bank, Wall Street,
and the IMF all gave Buchi and the Pinochet regime rave reviews for their
brilliant privatization strategy, designed to attract foreign investment, boost
savings, and downsize Chile’s state. But they never acknowledged why his
privatization program had been necessary and possible in the first place,
because in 1983, neoliberal policies had produced a disaster, and the junta had
been forced by its foreign creditors to take the fall for so many bad debts.
Finally, who were the main beneficiaries of Chile’s latest round of priva-
tizations? To avoid the insider-trading outrages that had characterized many
of the 1970s privatizations and helped groups like Vial and Cruzat grow
quickly, Buchi offered low-cost loans to workers and pension funds to help
them buy stock. By l988, worker-owned funds comprised fourteen percent of
privatized shares, not a bad achievement in worker control for an ostensibly
right-wing regime. But two other kinds of investors became even more
important. The first were foreign investors, especially the foreign banks. In
l986, under the Central Bank’s “Chapter 19” program, foreign investors were
allowed to swap their (dubious) nationalized loans for equity in state-owned
companies that were privatized on very favorable terms. As a result, Bankers
Trust obtained forty percent of Provida (the country’s largest pension fund),
plus the Pilmaiquen Power Plant for half its book value; Aetna Insurance
bought the country’s second largest pension fund; Chase, MHT, and Citibank
also acquired major local interests. By 1990, a handful of foreign-managed
pension funds controlled seventy percent of Chile’s pension system, its largest
pool of capital.Alan Bond, the erratic Australian investor whose financial em-
pire later collapsed, was even permitted to buy the famous telephone com-
pany that ITT had fought Allende so hard for. COPEC, the Chilean oil com-
pany that had been privatized cheaply by Grupo Cruzat-Larrain in 1976, had
since turned into a debt-ridden conglomeration of fishing, mining, forestry,
and finance companies, including half of Banco de Santiago. When Cruzat-
Larrain cratered in 1983, Chile’s government reacquired ownership of the
now-heavily indebted COPEC, which was Chile’s largest private enterprise.
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 274
one of the developing world’s largest state sectors. This “Chicago road to
socialism” was taken in part because there was no political opposition, no ac-
countability, and no one to stop the foreign banks, the domestic elites, their
unregulated domestic banks, and the generals. So perhaps democracy has its
uses, after all; perhaps “free markets” alone are not sufficient.
Brazil, because that was where US banks had most of their loans. Mexico, in
particular, accounted for more that a third of all US loans to Latin America,
and its foreign debt was already $75 billion and soaring.The Fed also had pri-
vate evidence that much of Mexico’s debt money was taking flight, ending up
in New York, Houston, and Miami.
So in February 1981, the New York Federal Reserve assigned one of its
best economists to look closely at Mexico’s debt situation. In September
1981, after a careful eight-month review, he presented his findings to the US
Interagency Cross-border Exposure Review Committee (ICERC), a secre-
tive panel of federal banking experts, including three apiece from the Federal
Reserve, the Comptroller of the Currency, and the Federal Deposit Insurance
Corporation.Their job was to rate the creditworthiness of specific countries,
as Moody’s does for private borrowers. Based on the economist’s work, the
New York Fed recommended that ICERC downgrade Mexico’s credit rat-
ing. If this recommendation had been followed, it might have slowed lending
to Latin America dramatically in 1981–82. Even though debt levels were
already very high, the eventual August 1982 extreme crunch might have been
avoided.
But the Fed’s proposal was defeated—according to this Fed economist,
because of high-level political shenanigans. The problem was the President
Ronald Reagan was about to meet Mexico’s President Lopez Portillo in Can-
cun for an official state visit, and the State Department—especially Secretary
of State Alexander Haig—didn’t want any embarrassments. So, on the very
eve of the ICERC vote, at least two members of the nine-member commit-
tee got late-night calls from the White House.The word was,“It is not in the
foreign policy interest of the US to reclassify Mexico’s loans at this point.”
Two ICERC members switched their votes and the proposal was defeated 5
to 4.
This may have had very far-reaching consequences. From October 1981
to August 1982, Mexico’s debt increased by $1 billion a month, and Latin
America’s debt increased by $40 billion—almost twenty percent. In August
1982, Mexico’s Finance Minister, Jesus Silva Herzog, was compelled to deliver
his famous line to US Treasury Secretary Donald Regan:“No, with great respect
sir, I believe we have a problem.” Two weeks later, Mexican officials discovered
to their horror that they actually owed foreign banks more that $26 billion of
90-day paper, including $6 billion that Mexican banks had borrowed surrep-
titiously. This discovery—and not Silva Herzog’s warning—marked the true
crisis. It wasn’t revealed at the time, but if the Fed had not secretly intervened
to underwrite two New York banks in September 1982, the entire global
interbank loan market might have come crashing down. When the dust
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 277
cleared, Mexico’s 90-day paper had become 30-year paper, debt that it is still
servicing to this day.
DE LA MADRID
Mexico was in its worst economic crisis since the l930s when President
Miguel de la Madrid took office in December 1982. He’d never before held
elective office. A life-long bureaucrat with a Mexican law degree and a Mas-
ters in Public Administration from Harvard, he was appointed President by
Jose Lopez Portillo, his predecessor and law professor. But until the late 1990s,
it was not at all unusual for Mexican Presidents, much less senior Mexican
officials, to have never held elective office. From 1929 on, the country was
governed by the “revolutionary” PRI, sort of a cross between the Teamster’s
Union, the Mafia, and Chicago’s political machine in the 1960s, under Mayor
Richard Daley. Decisions about who governed the country were routinely
taken behind closed doors and enforced ruthlessly. As Fidel Velazquez
Sanchez, for forty years the boss of the Confederation of Mexican Workers,
the PRI’s largest and most loyal union, once warned an opponent, “Just
remember: if you move, you might not come out in the picture.”
At least de la Madrid must have known something about the country’s
$85 billion debt problem when he took office. After all, as Portillo’s planning
minister from l976 to l982, when the debt increased fourfold, he had been
one of its main architects. Now de la Madrid lectured his countrymen on the
need for “belt tightening,” and in l983, he and Planning Minister Carlos Sali-
nas de Gortari implemented a tough IMF-type stabilization. For the already-
slim-waisted “shirtless ones,” this belt-tightening just meant higher un-
employment and declining real wages. De la Madrid’s other declared priority
was a “moral renovation,” an attack on the country’s soaring corruption prob-
lem.The only difficulty was that much of the corruption originated right at
the top of the political system: since Porfirio Diaz from 1876 to 1911, right
on down through Miguel Aleman in the 1940s, and since every Mexican
President has emerged from office vastly richer than when he entered. After
the 1970s oil price rise, Mexico’s increased oil wealth had compounded the
problem, because there was now so much more to steal. De la Madrid was not
eager to stray away from this tradition. So he granted his predecessor immu-
nity, allowing former President Lopez Portillo to retire to a palatial compound
just outside Mexico City. Informed observers estimate that Lopez Portillo
walked away with at least $1 billion—as ordinary folks said, “La Revolución le
hizo justicia” (The Revolution brought him justice).22 But Lopez Portillo did-
n’t get off completely—he was never permitted to forget his vow in Febru-
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 278
ary 1982 to “defend the peso like a dog,” just two weeks before he devalued
it sharply.After that, his compound became known as “Dog Hill,” and when-
ever he appeared in public, someone was sure to start barking.The only other
consolation was that under Mexican law, Lopez Portillo was limited to just
one term. As Lopez Portillo said of Mexico’s banks when he nationalized
them in September 1982 for their involvement in capital flight, “They’ve
robbed us once . . .They shall not rob us again.”
De la Madrid did try to punish a few of Lopez Portillo’s cronies. He
booted out Arturo Durazo Moreno, Mexico City’s former police chief and
leading dope dealer at the time, whose house—like Imelda Marcos’s film cen-
ter—was a full-scale replica of the Parthenon, complete with five hundred
marble statues. Jorge Diaz Serrano was George H. W. Bush’s former business
partner in Zapata Oil and the head of Pemex—Mexico’s national oil com-
pany—under Lopez Portillo. In addition to other properties, Diaz Serrano
owned a mansion right on the golf course in Vail, Colorado. He was later
charged with pocketing a $34 million commission on two oil tankers—actu-
ally a rather modest sum, considering the fact that up to 300 million barrels
of oil were missing from the country’s accounts during his six-year term. He
only served five years in prison, which works out to be an average “salary” of
$7 million a year for the tanker fee.
Apart from these two sacrifices, most other PRI magnates avoided pros-
ecution under the de la Madrid regime. Those overlooked included Carlos
“Hank” Gonzalez, the Mexico City mayor who used his position to acquire
a vast business empire, an estate in New Canaan, Connecticut, and a private
zoo; Fidel Velazquez, the union boss, who sold labor peace for a hefty sum to
the PRI’s business allies; and most interesting to us here, Joaquin Hernandez
Galicia (“La Quina”), the “Director of Revolutionary Works” for Pemex’s
powerful oil union in the 1980s.
Hernandez Galicia, a former welder from the Gulf town of Ciudad
Maderos, had been the oil workers’ boss since l961 and a personal advisor to
four Mexican presidents. He was so certain of his power that in February
1982 he warned de la Madrid, “You will have to become a friend of the oil
workers whether you like it or not.”23 Hernandez Galicia also had close
friends who were foreign bankers, as we’ll see.
Unfortunately for de la Madrid, several episodes in the early days of his
administration undercut his rhetoric about “moral renovation.” In May l984,
the day de la Madrid arrived in Washington DC on his first official visit, Jack
Anderson leaked a CIA report estimating that de la Madrid had already accu-
mulated $162 million abroad. Apparently some of the funds had been wired
to a Cayman Islands bank and the National Security Agency was listening.
Mexican diplomats labeled the story a lie, but the State Department only
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 279
also precocious: at age four, he had picked up a pistol and shot his maid dead.
He finished his Harvard Ph.D. in political science in l978 (his dissertation was
on the “impact of government spending on elections”), and by l982, he was
already minister of planning—the youngest Cabinet member ever at thirty-
five.
Like de la Madrid and many other US-educated elite/technocrats in the
PRI’s “reform” wing, Salinas believed that Mexico’s main problem was its
own bloated government. He favored downsizing the state, deregulating the
economy, and, if anything, increasing the role of foreign banks and investors.
Despite a dearth of new loans, he and de la Madrid continued to pay all of
Mexico’s foreign interest bills on time, repeatedly restructured the debt, and
experimented with almost every idea on the bankers’ wish list, including
debt swaps, securitization, debt conversions, and privatization. Mexico’s debt
emissaries spent a fortune on innumerable junkets to Paris, London, Wash-
ington, DC, and New York. Meanwhile, the country staunchly refused to be
drawn into a debtors’ coalition with Brazil, Argentina, and Peru.
By the end of de la Madrid’s term in l988, however, there was precious
little to show for his deference to foreign bankers.26 The debt cost more to
service than Mexico earned from oil exports—tantamount to Pemex being
handed over lock, stock, and barrel to the banks. From 1982 to l988, Mexico
paid over $40 billion in interest and got back only $14 billion in new loans,
half of them from the IMF and the World Bank.The country transferred more
than a third of its savings abroad each year. In fact, taking flight capital into
account, Mexico was actually a net lender to the outside world—more than
$50 billion throughout the l980s. By 1985, the market value of its flight assets
already exceeded the value of its entire foreign debt. And most of these flight
capital outflows were captured by its major “creditors.” One Citibank private
banker—operating surreptitiously out of the fourteenth floor of Citi’s office
tower in Mexico City—bragged,“We could easily repay our loans to Mexico
with the flight capital that we’ve collected here—you know, there really are
quite a few fabulously rich Mexicans!”27
Given the banks’ unwillingness to provide Mexico’s government with any
more loans, the skepticism that foreign investors had toward the country, and
the government’s reluctance to get tougher with foreign banks and its own
domestic elite, Mexico had little choice but to rely on its own resources to
finance investment. Since Salinas and de la Madrid wanted to shrink public
spending and budget deficits and were unwilling to tax the elite, they raised
interest rates to stimulate private savings. That reduced growth and unem-
ployment, which was anathema to workers, campesinos, and “protected” busi-
ness sectors. But the de la Madrid-Salinas program was supported enthusias-
tically by Mexico’s top families, bankers, the bureaucratic elite, union bosses,
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 281
oil workers, police chiefs, and Army officers. Given the one-party system,
these were the only constituencies that really counted.
The economic program turned out to be very unpopular, and Salinas’s
detractors in the PRI worried that it might be a mistake to bet on an
uncharismatic technocrat in a period of rising political ferment. But this
argument carried little weight with de la Madrid, who’d once been an
uncharismatic planning minister himself. So in September 1987, Salinas was
nominated the PRI’s candidate for president.
Almost immediately, the regime’s policies began to misfire. The global
stock crash that took place in October 1987 actually started in Mexico City,
when the Central Bank suddenly lifted restrictions on investments in debt
instruments, causing the Mexican stock market to lose three-fourths of its
value in one week. Capital flight resumed, the government missed its budget
targets, the peso sank like a stone, and by year’s end, inflation was at fifteen per-
cent a month and rising. De la Madrid was forced to implement yet another
round of “belt tightening,” squeezing credit and freezing wages and prices.
Since 1981, Mexico had experienced seven years of negative growth. Real in-
comes for everyone but the elite had fallen by a quarter, and there were incip-
ient signs of social unrest all over the country.The country stagnated under the
weight of its foreign debt, which totaled $101 billion by l988.28
port of the landowning elite, foreign bankers and investors, and his own well-
heeled entourage.
Evidently many Mexicans did not share Salinas’s enthusiasm for Porfirio
Diaz or for the neoliberal agenda.To them, he was still just another in a long
series of little-known, remote members of the Priista technocracy who came
down from the temple every six years and went through the motions of seek-
ing their mandate. Despite massive advertising on his behalf by the PRI’s
machine (with help from Hill and Knowlton, the renowned PR firm whose
clients had also included Duvalier and BCCI), as of election eve, non-gov-
ernment polls found that he and Cardenas were still running neck and neck.
Of course many voters viewed all Mexican elections with skepticism, because
of the PRI’s long history of election fraud. But Salinas and his predecessor,
Miguel de la Madrid, had sworn this time would be different.
On July 6, 1988, when the polls closed and the government started tally-
ing the count at its central computing office in Mexico City, the country
eagerly awaited the results. There was much disappointment when Manual
Bartlett, the PRI’s interior minister in charge of administering the vote,
announced the next morning that the Federal Election Commission’s com-
puter system had crashed and that the results would be delayed. When they
finally emerged a week later, Salinas was declared the victor by a wide margin.
Officially, the PRI received fifty-two percent of the vote, compared with the
PRD’s thirty-one percent, and the business party PAN’s seventeen percent.
Opposition leaders have claimed that the computer crash was contrived
to buy time for rigging the vote once it became clear that Cardenas was win-
ning. Despite widespread rumors, these claims were not easily confirmed.
Many of those on the inside were too scared to talk, and Salinas’s foreign sup-
porters, including leading newspapers like The Wall Street Journal (whose par-
ent company, Dow Jones, added President Salinas to its corporate board,
where he remained until April 1997) and The New York Times did not inves-
tigate too deeply. They believed that a compliant, technically-competent
neoliberal would serve the mutual interests of Mexico and its trading partners
better than Cardenas.29
In June 1994, before Mexico’s August 1994 Presidential election, Com-
puting, a UK magazine that focuses on technology, became interested in the
computer failure aspect of the 1988 elections. It tracked down several data
entry operators who had worked on the election and obtained the following
eyewitness account of what had actually happened in July 1988:
We arrived at work on the morning of July 6, election day, at the central com-
puter and statistic official.When we got there we discovered that the rooms
were empty and our computers weren’t there. We were ordered into a
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 283
minibus and taken to the Government House (in Mexico City), to a room
with blacked-out windows. Our computers had been set up there, complete
with the voter database. We started to enter the data. As the supervisors saw
that Salinas was losing, they ordered us to leave aside votes for the PRI and
only enter opposition votes.Then, at about 3 A.M. on July 7, the supervisor
called a halt, and with tears in his eyes, he told us: ”If you care for your fam-
ilies, your jobs, and your lives, enter all votes from now on in favor of the PRI.
I went back to work and did as I was told. I wanted to cry, but I had to do it.
They kept us there until five or six in the evening the following day.
When I’d finished my work, I called up the voting record for my uncle, and
to my astonishment the computer record showed that he, an opposition sup-
porter, had voted for Salinas.That was when I realized why we had been told
only to enter opposition votes in the beginning.While we were away from
the computers, they had reversed all the data from the first session of data
capture so all those votes showed up as Salinas votes.30
Salinas not only lost Mexico City by a landslide in 1988, but most inde-
pendent observers now believe that he also lost the whole country. Without
an army of its own, most members of the opposition decided to recognize his
“victory,” which the Reagan Administration and the domestic and foreign
business community lost no time in doing.
A few powerful dissidents like Hernandez Galicia refused to do so, how-
ever. Hernandez Galicia had already battled Salinas over the Pemex union’s
contract, and there was much more to fight about. For forty years, oil workers
had been Mexico’s best-paid workers. Under a 1947 agreement that was still
in force, they received 2.5 percent of all drilling contracts as “dues,” plus 10
percent for the union’s Fund for Social Works, which Hernandez Galicia hap-
pened to administer. Under a 1977 agreement with Lopez Portillo, the union
also controlled forty percent of all drilling contracts and half of all other Pemex
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 284
contracts. The standard gambit was for union bosses to set up intermediary
companies, subcontract work, and pocket 10–25 percent spreads. The union
even had its own contractors, owning a whole fleet of oil tankers and two
drilling platforms that employed pelones (nonunion workers).At Salinas’s insis-
tence, the bidding reservation was abolished for onshore bids in l985, but off-
shore work remained with the union. There was also rampant overmanning.
The contracts gave the union exclusive power over hiring, and Hernandez
Galicia openly sold the jobs.There were also thousands of “ghost workers” on
the payroll. Not surprisingly, Pemex’s output per worker was only a third as
high as that of PDVSA,Venezuela’s state oil company.32 When oil prices plum-
meted in the mid-1980s, the company chose to cut exploration rather than
take on the union. By the late l980s, Pemex was pumping four times as much
oil as it was finding, and Mexico’s reserves had fallen below Venezuela’s.33
By then, Hernandez Galicia ’s union really became a state within a state,
with more than nine hundred full-time officials and three thousand
“enforcers” on call. In addition to the tankers and drilling companies, his
Fund for Social Works controlled movie theaters, service stations, a watch fac-
tory, 130 supermarkets, a fleet of airplanes, the Alameda Hotel in Mexico
City, the Emiliano Zapata Ranch in Tamaulipas (with three thousand cattle),
and at least five other ranches. Hernandez Galicia also owned a stake in the
Continental Performation and Construction Company, a Texas drilling com-
pany and Pemex subcontractor. In l983, he estimated the value of all these
assets at $670 million.34 They were managed for him by Sergio Bolaños, a
Mexican businessman. Collectively, they were known as Grupo Serba.
Despite all the corruption, while Hernandez Galicia was powerful, for-
eign bankers were quite happy to support him. In the l970s, for example,
Bank of America, Pemex’s leading creditor, had loaned nearly $500 million to
Grupo Serba, Bolaños, and Hernandez Galicia . The loans were arranged by
Bank of America’s influential Mexico City representative Pepe Carral, a for-
mer schoolmate and close friend of Presidents Luis Echeverria and Lopez
Portillo. Bank of America was also Pemex’s largest lender.And after he retired
from Bank of America, Carral set up an investment fund that managed assets
for several of these friends.
So even after Salinas took office in late l988, he still had very powerful
enemies. On the eve of his inauguration, Hernandez Galicia tried to embar-
rass Salinas, charging that Mario Ramon Beteta, de la Madrid’s Pemex direc-
tor, had pocketed a commission on a tanker deal just like Diaz Serrano, his
predecessor.35 Hernandez Galicia also warned Salinas that his union would
strike if the government disposed of “even one millimeter of the petroleum
industry to the private sector.” And the union secretly started to buy auto-
matic weapons.That was serious—Hernandez Galicia really did have his own
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 285
private army. His union’s 210,000 members were disbursed all over the coun-
try, and they outnumbered the Mexican Army by two to one.
The upshot was that in January 1989, just a few days after Hernandez
Galicia visited the National Palace to pay his respects to Salinas, a bazooka
blew down his door in Cuidad Madero at 9 A.M. in the morning, and Mex-
ican Army troops dragged him off to jail in his underwear. Hernandez Gali-
cia, Bolaños, and forty-three other union officials were charged with crimes
that ranged from murder and arms trafficking to “gangsterism.” The police
confiscated several hundred Uzi machine guns and fifty thousand rounds of
ammunition. A week later, Mexico’s attorney general asked the US Federal
Reserve to freeze all US bank deposits owned by these union officials.They
turned up more than $3.2 billion stashed in accounts at Citibank, Chase,
MHT, and Bank of America.36
So it was not only could Mexico’s capitalists and corrupt officials who
could employ private bankers, but “Directors of Revolutionary Works” as
well. If Salinas hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, Hernandez Galicia ’s stash
might have bankrolled a second Mexican revolution. This was by no means
the only union leader jailed by Salinas. He also jailed the head of Aeromex-
ico’s union, the head of the social security system’s union, and the heads of a
Mexico City bus line’s union—all of whom were protesting the privatization
of their respective enterprises.
Salinas wasted no time with amenities when it came to civil liberties. In
1994, Amnesty International described some of the methods used by Mexi-
can security forces against the Indians in Chiapas who were protesting the
extraordinary concentration of land ownership:
Hundreds of people were tortured and ill-treated by the army and other
security forces in Chiapas. In other parts of the country the frequent use of
torture by law enforcement agents, particularly the state judicial police, con-
tinues to be reported.Torture methods included beatings; near-asphyxiation
with plastic bags; forcing peppered water into the nose; electric shocks and
burning. Some detainees died as a result. Confessions extracted under duress
continued to be admitted as evidence in courts, and medical treatment for
detainees who suffered torture was frequently not available. By the end of
the year none of those responsible for any of the hundreds of cases of tor-
ture reported in Chiapas and throughout the country had been brought to
justice.37
LA CONTRA-REVOLUCIÓN
Having stolen the election and demolished his remaining political oppo-
nents with brute force, Salinas proceeded with what opposition leaders called
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 286
one of the most aggressive in Latin America. It involved selling public assets in
key sectors like telecommunications, steel, airlines, and banking, including the
reprivatization of all the banks that Lopez Portillo had nationalized in the early
1980s, and then using the proceeds to finance the budget. By l994, this fire-
sale had raised $24 billion, more than any other Latin American country.40
Salinas introduced many other sweeping changes, like a new investment
law that opened many sectors to foreigners and a tax amnesty for returning
flight capitalists. He slashed government spending as a share of GDP and
opened up Mexico’s capital markets to foreign banks, brokerages, and insur-
ance companies. He sanctioned an amendment to Mexico’s constitution that
effectively put an end to restrictions on private landholding, an attempt to
undermine the communal farms that had been the cornerstone of Lazaro
Cardenas’s agrarian reform in the 1930s and 1940s.With the help of high real
interest rates, he reduced inflation from 130 percent to around 20 percent in
two years and strengthened Mexico’s peso. In 1989, he also declared that drug
trafficking was a threat to the nation, presided over the seizure of a record
amount of cocaine, and signed a new drug enforcement cooperation treaty
with the US. Finally, he negotiated the NAFTA treaty, a new “free trade” zone
with his powerful neighbors—the US and Canada—that opened doors to
their markets, exports, and investors. For good measure, he even had Mexico
join the GATT and the OECD. Porfirio Diaz himself could not have
designed a more complete deconstruction of the PRI’s statist heritage.
All these moves were greeted enthusiastically by Salinas’s allies, especially
the three hundred top families, the US government, the banks, foreign
investors, and the neoliberal intelligentsia. Combined with the 1990 oil price
rise, this helped set off a foreign investment boomlet from 1991 to 1995.
The result was a vast feeding frenzy on the part of the private elite. Far
from simply opening up the economy, this actually consolidated their hold on
many sectors. Sweeping privatizations of the banking, telecommunications,
media, mining, agriculture, and airline industries provided numerous sweet-
heart deals, especially for a dozen or so key insiders, like Carlos Slim, Carlos
Hank Gonzalez, and Roberto Gonzalez Barrera—all of whom were close to
the President and his family. Other private groups that held dominant posi-
tions in export industries like glass, beer, cement, tourism, and mining or were
able to offer investment opportunities and partnerships to foreigners, also
benefited immensely from NAFTA, which was concluded by Salinas and
President George H.W. Bush in late l992 and strong-armed through the US
Congress by President Bill Clinton in late 1993.
So it is not really surprising that inequalities of wealth and income in
Mexico rose dramatically from 1988 to 1994. The number of Mexicans on
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 289
Forbes Magazine’s annual survey of the world’s billionaires increased from one
in 1988 to twenty-four in l994, placing Mexico in fourth place, just ahead of
France and the UK.41 It also earned Salinas de Gortari many personal trib-
utes. As noted, he became a member of Dow Jones’ corporate board. On
December 7, 1994, he was treated to a $400 per plate testimonial dinner in
his honor at the Jeane J. Kirkpatrick’s American Enterprise Institute in Wash-
ington, DC, for his “contribution to improved public policy and social wel-
fare.”42 In 1995, just before the scandals involving his brother Raul broke, his
name was briefly put forward by the Clinton adminstration as a candidate for
the new head of the World Trade Organization.
Salinas’s political opponents complained that all these tributes overlooked
the huge surge in corruption and drug dealing that had also accompanied his
liberalization programs, as well as his “unelected” status.They saw his policies
as basically returning Mexico to its old role as an appendage of the US econ-
omy, a place where labor was cheap and “anything goes,” and where domes-
tic farmers and industry would be wiped out by cheap US imports.After sev-
enty years of “revolutionary” government, the country still didn’t accord its
workers basic labor rights like effectively enforced maximum hours, mini-
mum wages, child labor laws, or occupational health and safety. Despite all the
excitement about free trade, there were no free trade unions. Despite Salinas’s
new environmental law, Mexico’s environment was poorly protected. And
despite high nominal taxes, private income and wealth went largely untaxed.
Most importantly, the PRI was still unwilling to allow free elections
except when it served its own interests. It had permitted some candidates
from the right-wing PAN party to win state governorships for decorative
purposes, but when Cardenas had threatened to win, the elections were stolen
in plain view.When workers at Mexico’s largest copper mine protested their
privatization, Salinas sent in the Army. Critical journalists were routinely
intimidated, fired, or assassinated. And senior members of the Salinas family
had been cultivating some interesting sidelines of their own, which made
Hernandez Galicia ’s business practices look clean by comparison.
Florida were pressured, Colombia cracked down on its own crime bosses, and
new Mexican gangs developed their own supply routes and political connec-
tions. Like all other exporters to the US, the dealers were aided by NAFTA’s
increasingly open borders.As the traffickers’ wealth grew, so did the opportu-
nities for official corruption. One investigation showed that in 1994–95, more
than thirty tons of cocaine confiscated by Mexico’s Federal Police simply dis-
appeared.43 According to a report by a former senior Mexican drug enforce-
ment official, the traffickers were simply given a green light by President Sali-
nas to generate foreign exchange.44 The crisis in the legal economy increased
the supply of human “mules” willing to risk border crossings, even as Mex-
ico’s enforcement efforts suffered budget cutbacks. So it is not surprising that
during the 1990s, illegal drugs and illegal immigrants became the country’s
largest exports, next to oil and debt service payments.
But for corrupt PRI officials, neoliberalism had an entirely new mean-
ing—more opportunities to make money quickly, launder it, and stash it.
Among the chief beneficiaries was the president’s brother, Raul Salinas Jr. In
late l995, his primary bank accounts at Citibank New York, Citibank’s Swiss
subsidiary, Pictet, Rothschild, Julius Baer, Banque Genevoise de Gestion, Bank
Cremi, and a network of dozens of other banks in Mexico, the Cayman
Islands, London, New York, Germany, and Luxembourg were revealed to be
involved in laundering and concealing $130 million to $400 million of unex-
plained wealth.45 Paulina Castañon, Raul’s wife, was halted by Swiss author-
ities on November 15, 1998, when she tried to withdraw $84 million from
an account at Bank Pictet in Geneva.A Swiss prosecutor who worked on the
investigation for seven years concluded that at least $70 million had come
from drug deals.46 Raul Salinas claimed that the money came from undocu-
mented loans or investment funds that he was given to manage by wealthy
Mexican businessmen, like Carlos Hank Rhon, Gonzalez’s son.
But Swiss authorities found his explanation dubious.They uncovered evi-
dence of payments by Juan García Abrego, the head of the Gulf cartel, whom
other witnessses claimed had met with both Carlos and Raul at a Salinas fam-
ily ranch.47 There were also many other allegations of high-level drug deal-
ing and money laundering. Furthermore, both the Bush and Clinton admin-
istrations were probably aware of some of these links to organized crime, but
did nothing, because they were concerned it might jeopardize Salinas’s sup-
port for the NAFTA treaty.The head of the US Drug Enforcement Agency’s
Dallas office from 1984 to 1994 said, “The intelligence on corruption, espe-
cially by drug traffickers, has always been there. But we were under instruc-
tions not to say anything negative about Mexico—it was a no-no since
NAFTA was a hot political football.”48
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 291
Eventually, in January 1999, after a four-year trial, Raul Salinas was sen-
tenced to fifty years in prison—later reduced to twenty-seven years—for his
role in the 1994 murder of his brother-in-law, the PRI’s general secretary Jose
Francisco Ruiz Massieu.49 Carlos Salinas, afraid that he might be murdered
or prosecuted if he remained in Mexico, fled to Ireland, which had no extra-
dition treaty with Mexico, until the late 1990s. The US Department of Jus-
tice briefly launched a money laundering investigation of Citigroup, based on
the fact that it handled more than $100 million in the scheme; Raul had
claimed that Amy Eliot, a vice president in Citigroup’s International Private
Banking Group, had “‘devised the whole strategy.”50 However, the Clinton
adminstration never brought money-laundering charges against Citibank. By
2000, the five-year statute of limitations on this offense had probably expired.
It was pure coincidence that former US Treasury secretary Robert Rubin
joined Citigroup as its vice chairman after October 1999 and that Citigroup
also hired the Federal Reserve’s top expert on money laundering, Richard
Small, as its director of Global Anti-Money Laundering.
TEQUILA SUNRISE
In August 1994, Ernesto Zedillo, a Yale economist and another lifelong
PRI bureaucrat who had never before held elective office, was elected to suc-
ceed Carlos with 50.2% of the official vote. Zedillo was nominated only after
Salinas’s first choice, Luis Donoldo Colosio, was mysteriously assassinated in
March 1994 in Baja, Zedillo’s home state.The PRI had its work cut out for
them to make Zedillo—theretofore Colosio’s campaign manager—a credible
candidate in just four months. But the PRI succeeded with the help of a mas-
sive advertising campaign, which featured the slogan, “Welfare for your fam-
ily!”The curious appearance of the “guerrilla” movement in Chiapas in Jan-
uary 1994 and an epidemic of political violence probably also convinced
some voters to support the “stable” PRI.
Because the PRI had generously renounced paying for elections with
government money in 1994, it had to find its campaign funding in other
ways. But since it was the ruling party, that was no problem. Salinas simply
invited thirty of Mexico’s top business moguls to dinner at a private mansion
in Mexico City’s fashionable Polanco district—including Carlos Slim, who
owned a significant part of Telmex, the formerly state-owned telephone com-
pany; Robert Hernandez, owner of Banamex,which had been privatized in
1991; Emilio (“El Tigre”) Azcarraga, a TV and media czar; and Lorenzo Zam-
brano, owner of Cemex, which controlled sixty-five percent of Mexico’s
cement market.51 It was “payback” time: everyone in the room had benefit-
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 292
ted enormously from Salinas’s reforms in the last six years, especially from pri-
vatization, and they were about to profit even more from the liberalization of
trade. As Don Emilio Azcarraga reportedly told them,
I, and all of you, have earned so much money over the past six years that I
think we have a big debt of gratitude to this government. I’m ready to more
than double what has been pledged so far, and I hope that most in this room
will join me.We owe it to the president, and to the country.52
Evidently this sentiment was widely shared. At the end of the evening, the
PRI had reportedly collected pledges of $25 million a head, for a grand total
of $750 million. Since these business moguls were not in the habit of giving
away so much money for nothing, the amount raised was also an indication
of how much they expected to benefit from government favors that would
flow from a PRI victory.
Another factor that aided Zedillo’s 1994 victory was an economic “card
trick.” As of mid-1994, the country was riding the crest of a temporary eco-
nomic boom, created by the policy of opening the doors to foreign investors.
Their willingness to provide a substitute for bank loans meant that the whole
issue of Mexico’s foreign debt appeared to have long since passed. Moreover,
Salinas’s economic team decided to defer an overdue but unpopular devalua-
tion of the peso until after the 1994 elections, because it would have boosted
inflation.The team also secretly boosted government spending by more than
was disclosed in official statistics. These politically-motivated policies were
maintained, despite numerous warnings from independent economists, the
US Treasury, and even the IMF.
To sustain the pre-election spending, Mexico had to take on a huge
amount of short-term debt—mainly in the form of interbank loans and new
issues of Mexican bonds sold to US investors through Wall Street investment
banks. The debts of Mexico’s domestic banks to international banks nearly
doubled from 1991 to 1994 (from $8 billion to $15.5 billion)—all of it
denominated in dollars. And the Mexican banks, also newly privatized, rap-
idly expanded their loans to Mexico’s private sector. Many of these bank loans
were wasted on poor projects or on “loans” to their owners’ other companies.
Bank of Mexico’s former vice governor Francisco Gil-Diaz wrote later that
many of the private investors who took over banks in the 1989–92 privatiza-
tions were political insiders with little banking experience. They took on
credit risks they did not understand.53 Also at work was something econo-
mists call “moral hazard,” a fancy way of saying that—in the absence of effec-
tive bank regulation, the presence of insider influence, and the likelihood of
a government bailout for their lending errors—the “novice” Mexican bankers
had discovered that they could essentially write themselves blank checks.
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 293
Once again, hasty privatization and weak banking regulation, the twin
Achilles’ heels of neoliberal finance, were influential. Since it was clear that
Mexico could not sustain this level of borrowing, investors started to specu-
late that the pegged value of the peso had to give. But until it did, the Cen-
tral Bank continued dishing out reserves, delaying the inevitable.
Another key component of Mexico’s $100 billion foreign debt was short-
term Mexican dollar bonds, or Tesobonos. By 1994, these had increased from
almost nothing in 1988 to $28 billion, more than a quarter of Mexico’s total
foreign debt.54 About $18 billion of the $28 billion had been sold through
Wall Street firms to their favorite big-ticket investors, and the other $10 bil-
lion was held by wealthy Mexicans. All of them had been well compensated
for inducing investors to bear the risk of holding Mexican debt with high
yields. Combined with Mexico’s weak non-oil exports and its high propen-
sity for imports, this policy of depending heavily on short-term foreign
finance and then delaying the necessary adjustments brought the chickens
home to roost. But in the short run, it basically allowed the PRI to manipu-
late its way to another electoral victory. Indeed, in August 1994, the threat
from the left temporarily evaporated. Cardenas’s PRD splintered, managing
just seventeen percent of the official vote. The conservative PAN party got
twenty-six percent. And this time the computer system was supplied by IBM
and Booz Allen Hamilton, not Unisys.
woo investment capital. Just like the l920s, however, when Mexican and
Argentine bonds experienced a similar loss of confidence, Mexico learned the
hard way that foreign bondholders can be even more fickle than foreign
bankers.
Mexico’s capital flight problem marked the beginning of its deepest eco-
nomic crisis since the 1930s. Over the next year, as the new Zedillo govern-
ment took office, there was no bailout for ordinary Mexicans. Unemploy-
ment tripled to twenty-eight percent and real national income fell by more
than seven percent. At a time when the labor force grew at the rate of a mil-
lion new workers each year, 1.6 million jobs were lost. Real wages—already
below their 1980 levels—fell by another twenty-five percent.Taking the gov-
ernment’s claims about continued prosperity at its word, many people had
gone heavily into debt. Forty percent of Mexico’s eighty-six thousand small
businesses, several hundred thousand individual debtors, and several large
industrial companies now went bankrupt.56 Two million small farmers lost
everything and were forced to migrate to find work. Meanwhile, to help pay
for this fiasco and satisfy the IMF’s demands for lower deficits, the govern-
ment raised sales taxes and prices for gasoline, electricity, and foodstuffs by
fifty percent.
For those in the bottom eighty-five percent of the income distribution
who still produced mainly for the domestic market, the consequences of all
this were catastrophic: an unprecedented combination of soaring inflation,
interest rates, and job losses, yielding, in turn, a sharp rise in suicides, divorces,
malnutrition, “voluntary” blood sales, kidnappings, political murders, land
conflicts, homelessness, and day-to-day street violence. NAFTA may well have
helped to generate $250 billion in cross-border trade since its adoption in
1993. But given the economic crisis, the vast majority of Mexicans were see-
ing very few of its benefits. By the year 2000, more than half the country’s
population was surviving on less than four dollars per day, and the traditional
“middle class” had been emptied out, as inequality and poverty both soared.57
If this was “conservative reform,” many ordinary Mexicans wondered how
radical alternatives could possibly have been any worse.
And this was not Chile’s distant little laboratory.There were ninety-nine
million potential Mexican immigrants right on the US border. Mass unem-
ployment and the plunge in real wages, combined with the adjacent US
boom, encouraged Mexican laborers to leave the country in droves.The years
1995–2003 proved to be record years for illegal emigration. Detentions by the
US Border Patrol increased by sixty-six percent, despite a quadrupling of
patrols, the adoption of harsher penalties for US employers who hire illegal
immigrants, sophisticated new detection technologies, and the enactment of
tough new anti-immigrant legislation, like California’s Proposition 187.58
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 295
More than one out of every seventeen professional class workers had left
Mexico since 1980.59
involving Raul Salinas—Mexico ran out of reserves to preserve the peso and
service its bonds. About a third of them were owned by wealthy Mexicans.
The other two-thirds were owned by the clients of Wall Street firms like
Rubin’s old employer, Goldman Sachs. Clearly, Rubin understood what was
at stake—he was Goldman Sachs’s vice chairman from 1989 to 1992, in
charge of international currency operations. He was also reportedly involved
with Carlos Slim’s Telmex financings.And Goldman Sachs was one of a hand-
ful of Wall Street firms that had dealt heavily in Mexican bonds. From 1992
to 1994, it had purchased $5.2 billion of Mexican bonds on behalf of its
clients or its own portfolio, one-fifth of the total.These were the very bonds
that Rubin’s bailout was about to salvage.64
This time around, unlike during the l920s, the banks worked closely with
the Mexican government, mounting a successful lobbying campaign to get
the Clinton administration and the IMF to bail out all these wealthy bond-
holders and Mexico’s private banks, in full. One investment banker said that
Mexico’s elite “pulled its usual act, pointing a gun to its head and threatening
to pull the trigger,” unless it got another bailout.65
Against the opposition of most Americans, President Clinton decided to
bail out his friends on Wall Street and in Mexico.This was the fourth Mexi-
can bailout since l982.To do so, Clinton had to behave in a somewhat extra-
democratic way. To circumvent Congress, Secretary of the Treasury Robert
Rubin drew on a US Treasury Emergency Stabilization Fund (ESF) that had
originally been intended to support the US dollar. Clinton argued that the
dollar might somehow be vulnerable to a speculative run on the peso. The
argument was strained at best, but it is not surprising that Rubin was sympa-
thetic.
The result was a $50 billion injection of First World taxpayer money,
almost all of which went directly into the pockets of wealthy bondholders and
the banks. About $20 billion came from the IMF, $20 billion from the special
US Treasury’s ESF, and $10 billion from Europe’s Bank for International Set-
tlements. At the end of the day, however, these lenders all demanded their
money back, with interest, from the Mexican government. So the costs ended
up being borne by Mexico’s taxpayers—mainly the millions of ordinary
Mexicans who bear the brunt of the country’s taxes.
For a select few, therefore, the economic crisis that followed the peso col-
lapse was not without its compensations. In fact, there was never a better time
to be a speculator, a buyer of undervalued government assets, or a flight
banker.The elite were effectively insured against the effects of the crisis they
had helped to create. With the help of the US, the Mexican government
relieved the largest banks of many bad loans.The US also bailed out wealthy
foreign and domestic investors who had bought Mexican bonds. Finally, the
elite had their own life preserver. Even after Salinas’s reforms, most of them
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 297
had still kept at least half their private wealth outside the country in dollars,
much of it in secret trust and foreign bank accounts. So it was no accident
that in 1995–96, even as the peso was losing half its value, new sales of Mer-
cedes and other luxury cars in Mexico City’s affluent neighborhoods set new
records.
At the time, there were many in the financial community, including
Citibank’s former CEO Walter Wriston and many European bankers, who
disagreed with the position taken by Clinton and Rubin. They argued that
this “crisis” was very different from 1982—since no major international banks
(e.g., Citibank) were at risk this time. The public interest in bailing out this
crowd of relatively sophisticated, well-healed owners of Mexican bonds and
banks was negligible.66 Moreover, there were serious questions about what
the Mexican banks had done with all their “loans” the first place. Despite all
their promotional rhetoric about free markets, when their own pocketbooks
were at stake, these powerful transnational interests decided to opt for state
intervention—just as Chile’s bankers had done in 1983. One is reminded of
the line from Auden: “When there was peace, he was for peace. When there
was war, he went.”
In less than a month, the resulting bailout added $50 billion to Mexico’s
public foreign debt, undoing a whole decade of tedious debt restructuring.
By the end of l995, Mexico’s foreign debt had ballooned to more than $160
billion—the highest of any developing country, higher in real terms by fifty
percent and larger relative to GDP than it had been the year of Mexico’s first
debt restructuring in 1997. To service this debt, Mexico had pay more than
$56 billion in interest and principle in 1995 alone, and very high continuing
debt service costs. After a decade of “reform,” it was the worst year ever for
the growth of Mexico’s foreign debt and capital flight.
At the same time, nearly half a million Mexican individual debtors and
small businesses managed to organize their own nationwide union, El Barzon,
seeking relief from the extraordinary interest rates that Mexican banks were
charging. They had some success, but ultimately the government and banks
responded harshly, breaking up their demonstrations and throwing several of
their leaders in jail.67 In 2000, over their stalwart protests, the new Mexican
president Vicente Fox decided to both honor the FOBAPROA obligations to
the banks and to keep the list of government bailout recipients a secret. Like
many other things in Mexico, debt relief was distributed in inverse propor-
tion to need and in direct proportion to influence.
Despite all the bailouts for the elite and bondholders, the peso’s value hit
an all-time low in November l995, and the government raised interest rates
again, prolonging the crisis. As its domestic banking industry cratered, for a
while it appeared that Mexico might even need another increase in its credit
line with the US and the IMF. But in December 1995, it received a stay of exe-
Chapter 07 9/18/03 3:45 PM Page 298
cution from the Federal Reserve, which lowered US interest rates to prevent
the US economy from sinking into its own recession.
Yet, the turbulence continued for quite a while. One day the peso fell five
percent on rumors of a military coup against Zedillo; another it tumbled four
percent on reports that peace talks with the ELZN guerrillas had been called
off; the next, it was roiled by the discovery of Raul Salinas’s foreign accounts.
Because of Mexico’s heavy dependence on foreign finance, the economy
remained hostage to events and expectations beyond its control. Meanwhile,
in addition to bondholders and Mexican bank owners, there was at least one
other group that profited from the Mexican crisis. In the aftermath of the cri-
sis, to reduce FOBAPROA’s costs of repairing the damage to Mexico’s bank-
ing system, Mexico decided to open up its banking system to foreign owner-
ship. Prior to the crisis, there had been severe restrictions on the rights of
foreign banks to own a controlling position in Mexican banks. In fact, Citi-
group was the only bank in Mexico City—having opened early in the twen-
tieth century—that was “grandfathered” in. But now this barrier was
dropped, and the buyers wasted no time in capitalizing on the opportunity.
By 2001, Citigroup was the proud owner of Banamex. Banco Bilbao, Spain’s
largest financial group, purchased Bancomer; and Banco Santander, another
leading Spanish bank, purchased Banco Serfin.
In 2003, Mexico’s economy is stalled again, waiting for the US to recover.
When the US does so, Mexico’s economy undoubtedly will also rebound in
the next few years. After all, it has one of the world’s richest endowments of
human and natural resources, and its labor costs are relatively low. But more
than twenty years after the so-called “Third World debt crisis” began and more
than a decade after it was supposed to have ended, Mexico is far from healthy,
NAFTA and neoliberal reforms notwithstanding. It has massive, unsolved cor-
ruption and narco-trafficking problems, a huge supply of surplus labor, and a
gargantuan foreign debt.While technical policy errors, bad luck, and local con-
ditions all played a role in this outcome, it is hard to place the systemic blame
anywhere but on authoritarian neoliberalism and its correlates: overborrowing,
capital flight, corruption, money laundering, and dependent development.
In the last twenty years, Mexico ceded more and more control over its
economic destiny to global markets, international bankers and their internal
collaborators. Like other countries that have allowed themselves to become
too far dependent on these transnational interests, Mexico still lacks a coher-
ent, long-term economic strategy and an authentic democratic culture. It also
lacks a solution to the basic problem of generating the five percent growth—
or the one million plus new jobs—that it needs each year to lift its people out
of poverty and become something more than a servants’ quarters, oil reserve,
illicit drug store, and vacation spot for its more affluent northern neighbors.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 299
C HA PT E R E I G HT
The Shah is expected to remain actively in power over the next ten years.
—US Defense Intelligence Agency, October 1978,
three months before the Shah left Iran
We ask, why does one group of people have to live in such poverty while
another group spends $5 million just for decorating their villas?….They take
this nation’s oil and its other sources of wealth, they plunder this nation so
that they can live like this while others live in poverty.We are shouting that
we won’t be plundered in this way…
—Ayatollah Khomeini, Speech # 38, Paris, October 1978
The problem is the future. The tribes don’t want to form part of a unified
state; the towns can’t do without it. How are we going to support and pro-
tect the elements of stability and at the same time conform to the just
demand for economy from home? . . . It’s very significant that there are so
few “wise” people in Baghdad—i.e., people who want a British mandate.
No one knows exactly what they do want, least of all themselves, except that
they don’t want us.
—Gertrude Bell, British agent, describing the situation
in Iraq under British occupation, September 5, 1920
PROLOGUE—THE “COALITION”
In March 2003, a US-led coalition launched “Operation Iraqi Freedom,”
invading Iraq with a force of 255,000 US troops, 45,000 British, 2,000 Aus-
tralians, 400 Czechs and Slovaks, and 200 Poles.1 Its official aims were to
“liberate Iraq” from Saddam Hussein, “disarm” the country, eliminate its
“weapons of mass destructions,” and “restore democracy.”2 Skeptics recalled
the speech by General Sir Frederick Stanley Maude, the British commander
who seized Baghdad from the Turks in March 1917 and stayed on until 1932:
“Our armies do not come into your cities and lands as conquerors or ene-
mies, but as liberators.”3 But many others embraced the action as a sign that
after supporting dictatorship and monarchy in the Middle East for decades,
the US and the UK had finally decided to right some of their past wrongs.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 300
institutions like the World Bank and IMF, and would probably have even
support a US invasion of Canada.The coalition also included such long-time
“defenders” of democracy and human rights as Singapore, Bulgaria, Uzbek-
istan, Azerbaijan, Georgia, El Salvador, Albania, Romania, Mongolia,Turkey,
Panama, and the Ukraine. In September 2002, the Ukraine’s autocratic leader
Leonid Kuchma was revealed to have sold a $100 million radar system to
Iraq, violating the UN weapons embargo. He was also facing mounting
domestic opposition over his role in the death of a leading Ukrainian jour-
nalist. Evidently Kuchma was trying to recover the good graces of the US,
which had already reprogrammed $54 million of aid because of the radar
sale.5
On the other hand, there were some interesting omissions from the offi-
cial list of coalition supporters.6 Kazakhstan was left out, even though it had
strongly endorsed the coalition’s goals.7 But the US had other reasons for not
being too vocal about Kazakhstan’s support. On April 4, 2003, James H. Gif-
fen, a leading New York merchant banker, was arrested by federal authorities
at JFK International Airport on his way to Kazakhstan, on charges of sixty
counts of bribery, money laundering, fraud, false income tax returns, and vio-
lations of the US Federal Corrupt Practices Act.This was in connection with
funneling at least $78 million in kickbacks to Kazakhstani officials, including
President Nursultan Nazarbayev, former Prime Minister Akezhan
Kazhedgeldin, and Balgimbayev, the head of the state oil company.The pur-
pose of the payoffs was to win oil concessions. J. Bryan Williams III—former
director and senior vice president of Mobil Oil Corp. (now ExxonMobil),
responsible for negotiating more than half of Mobil’s global crude oil require-
ments in the 1990s, was also charged with receiving $2 million in kickbacks
from Giffen. The bribes, paid from May 1997 to September 1998, were
reportedly channeled from ExxonMobil, Amoco Oil (now BPAmoco), and
Phillips Petroleum to DeutscheBank/Bankers Trust in New York, then on to
the accounts of several British Virgin Islands, Liechtenstein, and Swiss shell
companies and trusts at four Swiss banks—Credit Suisse First Boston (CSFB),
Credit Agricole Indozuez (CAI), Pictet, and United European Bank. A Swiss
investigation in 2001 unearthed a massive amount of similar US/UK oil com-
pany-funded corruption all over Central Asia. Another grand jury was also
investigating Giffen’s arrangement of illegal oil swaps for ExxonMobil with
Iran, violating the 1996 US Iran Trade Sanctions Act.8
One of the most intriguing details in the case was that until recently,
Williams, a former Wall Street lawyer and general counsel in Mobil’s Saudi
office in Jeddah from 1979 to 1984, had also served as the US government’s
sole UN overseer on the Iraq Sanctions Committee, in charge of making sure
Saddam Hussein did not obtain any illicit offshore income from oil sales.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 303
One approach to solving First World oil supply problems was simply to
buy off local officials.This has long been the preferred route, beginning with
the original design of whole new countries by the Allied Powers in the 1920s
in Kuwait, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and the other Gulf States. Apparently Saddam
Hussein was beyond the point of requiring such intermediaries.
Also conspicuously missing from the list of supporters for the Iraq inva-
sion were all the other permanent members of the UN Security Council
(France, Russia, and China), eight out of the world’s ten largest countries,
longtime US allies such as Canada, Mexico, Germany, Saudi Arabia, and
Kuwait, leading African countries like Nigeria and South Africa, every Mus-
lim country, and every country in Latin America except Colombia where the
US has deployed several hundred troops to help protect Occidental Petro-
leum’s five hundred-mile oil pipeline and combat the growing left-wing
insurgency.The Iraq invasion was also condemned by Pope John Paul II, the
Archbishop of Canterbury, the Dalai Lama, most US and UK Catholic bish-
ops, the Methodist Church, the Patriarch of Russia, many leaders of the
Greek Orthodox Church, thirteen mainstream US Christian churches, many
liberal rabbis, and most of the moderate Muslim clerics who had condemned
the September 11 attack. The Southern Baptist Convention did support the
invasion, at least unofficially, as did Pat Robertson, Chuck Colson, Billy Gra-
ham’s son Franklin, who called Islam an “evil and wicked religion,” and Jerry
Falwell, who called the Prophet Mohammed a “terrorist.”9
The invasion was condemned as illegal by most international legal schol-
ars, on the grounds that it was not undertaken in response to an Iraqi attack
or an imminent threat, as required by the UN Charter, and that its “approval”
by the UN Security Council was doubtful at best.10 The week before the
invasion, there were unprecedented antiwar protests in almost every major
capital around the world. Public opinion polls showed that, except in the US,
the concept of a preventive invasion was very unpopular—even in the case of
coalition members like Spain, the UK, Italy, Japan, and South Korea—espe-
cially if pursued without a UN mandate. None of this made any difference to
President George W. Bush. His critics noted that foreign policy and war mak-
ing were not exactly his long suits—he was a “C+” student at Yale, Harvard
MBA, failed oil company executive, former baseball club owner, devout ex-
alcoholic Christian, and one-term Texas governor who had dodged military
service. He had traveled outside the US three times in his life before his pres-
idency, including twice to Mexico, and devoted only forty-five words to for-
eign policy in his 2001 inaugural address. But in this regard, perhaps the key
point is that he was not all that different from the average American: only
twenty-one percent have a passport, just thirteen percent of college-age
Americans can find Iraq on a map, a third cannot find the Pacific Ocean, and
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 304
the median-aged American was just 2 years old during the Vietnam War’s peak
and 6 years old during Watergate.11
But even US public opinion may have been irrelevant to the Bush’s deci-
sion to go to war. As New York Times editorialist Thomas Friedman observed
in an April 2003 interview with Ha’aretz, the leading Israeli newspaper:
ORIGINS
In 1951, Iran’s constitutional government, led by nationalist prime min-
ister Muhammad Mossadegh, nationalized the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company,
the forerunner of BP.That was enough to motivate the British Secret Intelli-
gence Service (BSIS, or MI6 as it is more widely known) to suggest to the
CIA that it was time for a coup. President Truman opposed the idea, but in
November 1952, a new, more hard-line Republican administration took
office under President Dwight D. Eisenhower.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 305
[The Arab and Kurd] now know what real bombing means, in casualties and
damage; they now know that within forty-five minutes a full-sized village
can be practically wiped out and a third of its inhabitants killed or injured
by four or five machines, which offers them no real target, no opportunity
for glory as warriors, no effective means of escape.20
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 307
In 1932, when the British mandate ended, the RAF turned the bombing over
to the Iraqi Air Force, which the RAF recruited, trained and armed.
QASIM’S DEMISE
Given the divergent tribal and religious composition of the provinces that
Iraq was awarded, Feisal Hussein I and his descendents did not have much
success in providing a stable government. By 1958, the country had seen more
than fifty cabinets come and go. It also had one of the most unequal distri-
butions of land and oil wealth in the Middle East. In July 1958, King Feisal
Hussein II was assassinated, and the corrupt Iraqi branch of the Hashemite
monarchy was overthrown. The new president, Abdul-Karim Qasim, resem-
bled Mossadegh in several respects. Even though he was anti-Communist, he
was also nationalistic, left-leaning, and probably one of the more popular non-
sectarian leaders in modern Iraqi history. He tried to introduce a progressive
land reform to break up Iraq’s many large holdings. He also tried to admit
Kurds into his first government, threatened to nationalize the foreign oil con-
cessions, and, later, refused to recognize Kuwait’s independence in 1961. All
this earned him many powerful enemies. But what really sealed Qasim’s fate
was his attempt to nationalize the oil concession owned by the Iraq Petro-
leum Company. This joint venture had been formed in 1928 by the Anglo-
Iranian Oil/BP, Royal Dutch Shell (the predecessors of ExxonMobil), and
CFP (a leading French oil company), with an exclusive concession from the
grateful Feisal for almost the entire country.21
Qasim also did not make many friends in the US and the UK with his
decision—six days after “Kuwait” obtained formal independence from its
British mandate in June 1961—to reject the move. He declared that “Iraq and
Kuwait remained one indivisible whole until 1913. Since then the people
have been fighting imperialists. . . .There exists no boundary between Iraq and
Kuwait. If anyone claims that there are boundaries then let him prove it.”22
Qasim’s UN ambassador in 1961,Adnan Pachachi—who in 2003 became one
of the US State Department’s leading candidates to head a postwar caretaker
government—declared at the time that “Kuwait is not more than a small
coastal town on the Gulf.”23 This move also threatened BP, which had also
played a seminal role, with the US company Gulf Oil, in the discovery of oil
in Kuwait, and the organization of the Kuwaiti Oil Company in the early
1930s.
The whole notion of “Kuwait” as an independent nation was an even
more recent invention than “Iraq,” and no less dependent on British mid-
wifery. The Ottoman Empire, knowing nothing of Kuwait’s oil wealth, had
regarded it as a remote subprovince of Basra that was too poor to tax. The
proposed Anglo-Ottoman Convention of 1913 described it as “an
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 308
rial claims with Iran, and both parties agreed that each country would hence-
forth be free to deal with its internal problems as it saw fit. In practice, this
deal gave the Shah’s secret police, the Savak, a free hand to crack down on
Shi’ite fundamentalists, who had a strong base in southern Iraq as well as Iran.
Over the next three years, under this Kissinger-arranged accord, more than
fifteen thousand of the Shah’s opponents were eliminated. In 1978, at the
Shah’s request, Saddam Hussein also expelled Shi’ite leader Ayatollah Ruhol-
lah Khomeini from southern Iraq, where he’d lived in exile for fifteen years.
The expulsion actually backfired on the Shah, when Khomeini was permit-
ted by the French to take refuge in Paris, which gave him a worldwide plat-
form and set the stage for the following year’s revolution.
The Algiers Accord also ended, for the time being, the support given by
the Shah, the US, and Israel to the Kurds. This promptly led to a new wave
of repression by Saddam Hussein and the flight of two hundred thousand
Kurds to Iran. A heart-rending March 1975 letter from Mustafa Barzani,
leader of the Kurdish Democratic Party since 1945, to Henry Kissinger read:
“Our movement and people are being destroyed in an unbelievable way, with
silence from everyone.We feel,Your Excellency, that the US has a moral and
political responsibility towards our people, who have committed themselves
to your country’s policy.”29 This provided the occasion for Kissinger’s famous
rejoinder:“Covert action should not be confused with missionary work.”This
was just one in a long series of betrayals of the Kurds by the US and the UK,
harkening back to the UK and France’s double-dealing at the 1919 Paris
Peace Conference, and the RAF bombings. In 1979, Mustafa died of cancer
and heartbreak in the US. His son Massoud took over the KDP.
In any case, by the mid-1970s, the Ba’athist Party was firmly in control
of Iraq, and the Shah and the US had healed their rifts with al-Bakr and Sad-
dam Hussein. It is fair to say that at this point, the US and the UK really could
claim to have birthed both these brutal regimes. Iraq and Iran both faced sim-
ilar “internal problems” from the Communists, and the Shah’s radical Shi’ite
problem was complemented by Saddam Hussein’s own problems with radical
Shi’ites in the south and Kurds in the north.When this neat balance was upset
by the Shah’s sudden demise in 1979, it created aftershocks that are still being
felt today.
ited Iran frequently, as did John J. McCloy, the influential US diplomat, Ger-
man high commissioner, and World Bank president who served as an advisor
to every US president from FDR to Ronald Reagan, and Chase Manhattan’s
chairman from 1953 to 1960.
In October 1971, David Rockefeller was a guest of honor at the Shah’s
elaborate three-day commemoration in Persepolis of the Persian conquest of
Babylon in 539 B.C., 2,510 years of monarchy in Iran, and his own “White
Revolution.”The cost of the festival was variously estimated at $22 million to
$200 million. Rockefeller was flown in along with 69 heads of state and 450
other dignitaries, including Ferdinand and Imelda Marcos, Ethiopia’s emperor
Haile Selassie, Romania’s president Ceaucescu, Princess Grace, Orson Welles,
and US vice president Spiro Agnew. A nineteen-square mile area in the mid-
dle of the desert was cleared of snakes, lizards, and scorpions, and an exotic
Tent City was constructed. For months the Iranian Air Force shuttled back
and forth from Paris, carrying Italian drapes, Baccarat crystal, Limoges china,
Porthault linens, and more than five thousand bottles of wine.Two top Paris
hairdressers were hired to attend to the female guests, and a staff of 159
French chefs and bakers prepared the menu. The guests were also treated to
an elaborate parade that featured 1,700 soldiers in costumes and fake beards,
riding hundreds of horses and camels that harkened back to the sixth century.
Ten acres of top soil were brought in so that George Truffaut, the gardens
manager at Versailles, could create a perfumed garden with roses and cypresses.
An international congress of 250 Persian scholars was also convened.30 Mean-
while, the Ayatollah Khomeini, in exile at the sacred Shi’ite city of Najaf, Iraq,
found out about the ceremony and issued a scathing denunciation, calling it
an “evil celebration.”This prompted General Nematollah Nassiri, head of the
SAVAK, to arrest 1,500 people. There was no terrorism during the event,
which Iranians who were not in jail got to watch on their black and white
TV sets.
The commemoration was by no means the Shah’s only extravagance.
From 1970 to 1978, his arms purchases totaled more than $20 billion. Espe-
cially after the 1973 OPEC oil price increase, the Shah’s weapons purchases
soared from less than $400 million in 1972 to $4.3 billion in 1974 and $5.7
billion in 1977.31 The increased arms purchases coincided nicely with oil
price increases, which the Shah and Saudi Arabia supported vigorously. Iran’s
oil revenues increased to more than $20 billion a year by 1977, as its exports
surpassed 5.2 million barrels per day. Arms purchases made the Shah the
largest single purchaser of US weapons during this period, accounting for
more than a quarter of all US arms exports. However, all this new income and
arms purchases destabilized Iran’s economy, and inflated the Shah’s sense of
security. During the same period, he initiated $34 billion of grandiose con-
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 312
All this did little for most Iranians, except to increase their costs of living
and create glaring inequalities between the new,Westernized urban elite and
the masses, most of whom continued to be rural peasants. The Shah made
much of his efforts to “modernize” the country, asserting on French TV in
1977 that “in 10–12 years, we shall reach the quality of life enjoyed by you
Europeans.”36 Indeed, he did make an effort to urbanize and industrialize. He
attempted a poorly planned land reform that ended up driving many people
into the cities.Against the grain of an intensely religious culture, he also tried
to introduce women’s rights and promote secular education. But even the
best of his reforms got stuck in the unresolved contradictions between his
own imperial tendencies, the country’s conservative religious traditions, and
the massive corruption and wasteful spending generated by the sudden
increase in oil revenues and debts. In short order, Iran was anything but a sta-
bilizing force in the Middle East; it became a vortex.
The Shah’s economic development problems provided ample grist for
Khomeini’s opposition movement. Khomeini has often been simply por-
trayed as a religious zealot, but a great deal of his support was derived from
his pointed criticisms of the Shah’s economics. As Khomeini said in Paris on
October 20, 1978, three months before the Shah’s ouster:
Wherever you look, you see there is something wrong. The economy is in
ruins. According to experts, agricultural production in Iran now is only suf-
ficient to meet the needs of the nation for thirty-three days a year. . . . The
result of the gentleman’s “Land Reform Program” was to turn Iran into a
consumer market for America. . . .They are taking our oil now in such a way
that in thirty years’ time, the reserves will run dry. . . . In return, the Ameri-
cans sell us the arms that they want for their military bases that they have set
up in Iran to confront the Soviet Union. . . .They take our oil and in return
they sell us planes worth $350 million [each]. . . .The Soviet Union, too, must
announce its support, because they are taking the country’s gas. . . .
. . . If we had an honest government which sold the oil in a proper way
and spent the revenues from it on the people, then this nation would not be
in the state it is today.
That is why we are shouting. We ask, why does one group of people
have to live in such poverty while another group spends $5 million just for
decorating their villas? . . .Their wealth comes from the people. . . .They take
this nation’s oil and its other sources of wealth, they plunder this nation so
that they can live like this while others live in poverty.We are shouting that
we won’t be plundered in this way, that this regime must be replaced . . . .37
Despite such criticisms, the Shah made no significant changes in his strategy.
One key reason was that so many insiders were profiting from the system. In
particular, foreign banks like Chase and Citibank benefitted immensely from
the simultaneous surge in oil payments, deposits, and foreign debts. Chase
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 314
Manhattan became the Shah’s largest single creditor, lending more than $2.7
billion in l977–79, right before his collapse.38 As of 1979, Chase also managed
more than $6 billion of Iranian government deposits and substantial private
banking assets for the Shah and his family. Henry Kissinger, David Rocke-
feller’s close friend and the chairman of Chase’s International Advisory Com-
mittee, supported the sharp increase in US arms sales while he was US sec-
retary of state from l973–76. A close relationship with the Shah was also
promoted by Zbigniew Brzezinski, President Jimmy Carter’s National Secu-
rity advisor from 1977 to 1981, who was appointed the first director of David
Rockefeller’s Trilateral Commission in 1973. Indeed, in the early 1970s,
Carter first caught David Rockefeller’s eye by way of Brzezinski, who intro-
duced him as the thoughtful governor of Georgia who had opened trade mis-
sions for his state in Brussels and Tokyo. In 1973, David Rockefeller and
Brzezinski recruited Carter to serve on the Trilateral Commission, providing
him valuable name recognition.39
Such relationships were also cemented by a strong network of private
banking transactions. In the waning days of the Shah’s regime, Chase Man-
hattan became involved in several highly questionable loans to Iran. In late
l978 it loaned $90 million to a subsidiary of the Iranian National Oil Com-
pany (INOC).According to an Iranian insider who was involved in the trans-
action, on instructions from the Shah’s oil minister, Chase transferred the
funds provided by this loan to a company that was owned by the Shah’s sis-
ter, ostensibly for “services” to INOC. Actually, the money never left New
York. Since his sister had private accounts at Chase, everything was accom-
plished with a few offsetting bookkeeping entries at the bank’s headquarters
in lower Manhattan.
In November 1979, during the hostage crisis, the US government froze
$12 billion of Iran’s deposits at US banks. Chase, Citibank, and MHT—the
main US beneficiaries of the Shah’s government accounts and his family’s
personal accounts—controlled more than eighty percent of these deposits,
and also accounted for the lion’s share of his foreign loans.Acting unilaterally,
they immediately seized all Iranian government deposits at their disposal and
used them to pay off outstanding loans. This was done, despite the fact that
the loans were not yet due, that Iran’s new government had been servicing
them scrupulously, and that the seizure violated conventional banking prac-
tices, in which all possible steps are usually taken to avoid defaults.
This seizure outraged Iranians—especially moderates who were just then
struggling against religious zealots. It also outraged many foreign banks and
smaller US banks that also had loans outstanding to Iran, but few Iranian de-
posits to grab. Interestingly, no other country followed the US banks’ lead of
seizing Iranian government assets, or the trade embargo that the US tried to
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 315
was returning to Iran in February 1979, Kissinger tried to blame the Shah’s
demise on the Carter administration’s “hollow pursuit of the defense of
human rights.”43 He suggested that a more repressive approach, along the
lines of the one that he had employed in early 1970s Chile, might have saved
the day. In fact by the time the US government realized the Shah was in trou-
ble, it was much too late. Kissinger’s view simply reflected his own deep cyn-
icism and his inability to accept his own responsibility—and that of his friends
and former employers—for their indulgent, short-sighted policies.
The rapid disintegration of one of the US’s most critical alliances in the
Middle East, based on an untenable development strategy, and coupled with
the agonizing hostage crisis that began in November 1979, was extraordinar-
ily traumatic for US policymakers. It was also cataclysmic for key US allies
like Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and Iraq, which all took careful note of Khomeini’s
February 1979 threat to “export the Islamic revolution” to his corrupt neigh-
bors.The Shah’s demise and the subsequent rise of Khomeini’s most extreme
followers to power were not inevitable. But time after time, the US and its
allies opted for elitist, short-sighted, antidemocratic policies that foreclosed
other alternatives. At the end of this long road was the 2003 US invasion of
Iraq.
At first, the Carter administration had no problem with asylum. Nor, for
that matter, did Khomeini—who was not yet firmly in control in Tehran and
actually wanted the Shah as far away as possible, because he feared a possible
counterrevolution. However, the Shah vacillated, wasting six weeks in Egypt
and Morocco, hoping for counterrevolution that never came. Incredibly, the
Carter administration also flirted seriously with the idea of fomenting yet
another coup. In January, it dispatched General Robert Huyser as a special
envoy to Iran for a month, where he held intense meetings with key com-
manders in the Shah’s army—most of whom the US military had trained. His
orders were to see if such a plan could be devised.
But the situation moved too fast for the US to replay its 1953 restoration.
On February 11, 1979, as Iran’s armed forces were losing control to what was
clearly a very popular uprising, Carter gathered his closest advisors at Camp
David to consider his options. National Security advisor Brzezinski still
favored a 1953-like coup and was on the verge of getting Carter’s approval.
But when Brzezinski called General Huyser in Tehran to ask about its feasi-
bility, the General replied that it would only be possible “with the direct sup-
port of the US military,” including ten thousand soldiers from elite units and
an unlimited budget.That was too much even for Zbigniew.45
Having missed the opportunity for a military coup, President Carter
decided to focus on trying to establish relations with the new, hopefully mod-
erate government of Prime Minister Mehdi Barzargan. On February 14,
1979, a group of militants seized the US Embassy in Tehran for three hours,
providing a clear example of what might happen if there were further US
provocations. Fearing such reprisals, US ambassador William Sullivan and
other key Embassy staff wrote to the State Department, expressing strong
opposition to giving the Shah asylum.46 By then, in the words of one Iranian
newspaper, the vast majority of Iranians were celebrating “the end of 2,500
years of imperial dictatorship.”47
On February 23, 1979, the Carter administration—over the opposition of
Brzezinski—informed the despondent Shah that both the coup and the asy-
lum offer were off the table. For the next nine months, while Kissinger,
Rockefeller, and McCloy tried hard to reverse this decision, the Shah and his
family wandered from Cairo to Morocco to the Bahamas, to Cuernavaca, to
Panama, and finally to Egypt, where he eventually died of cancer in July 1980.
All this meandering prompted Kissinger—who may have felt a pang of guilt
about the Shah’s situation—to complain in May 1979 that he was being
treated like a “Flying Dutchman who cannot find a port of call.”
Kissinger, Rockefeller, and McCloy were not people who were used to
being turned down. In October 1979, they tried a new gambit, with David
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 318
Armao and Joseph V. Reed floating reports that the medical condition of the
Shah, who was then in Cuernavaca, was critical, and that only New York City
doctors could save him. In fact, Dr. Kean, the only US physician who actu-
ally performed a detailed physical on the Shah during this period, was more
relaxed.While the Shah had contracted lymphoma as early as 1974, his con-
dition in 1979 was not yet dire. For years he had been under the care of the
same French physicians who attended to him in Mexico, and Dr. Kean
believed there were at least nine other countries willing to take him that had
adequate medical facilities, including Mexico.The real problem seems to have
been the Shah’s taste for fine living. He simply wanted to spend his last years
in New York City, close to friends like Kissinger and Rockefeller and more
accessible to all his royal friends passing through.
On October 21, 1979, after ten months of pestering, President Carter
gave in to the medical ploy and decided to admit the Shah “temporarily” for
treatment.An election year was approaching, and Carter may have feared that
if the Shah died without being admitted to the US, Kissinger and his influ-
ential friends would scapegoat him for both his downfall and his death.
Apparently, Carter made the decision without asking for a second opinion
from an independent doctor, over the continuing vocal objections from the
US Embassy’s remaining staff in Tehran. They saw the moderate Barzargan’s
grip on power slipping and wanted to avoid any incidents that might provoke
Khomeini’s militants.
Why the US Embassy neglected to take more security precautions during
this period is unclear. Its staff had already been reduced from 1,400 (the world’s
largest) to less than 65 by the time of the occupation.The remaining Embassy
staff members were also committed to rebuilding relations with Iran’s new
government. In the fall of 1979, before the Embassy takeover, they reported
that relations were improving.There were also reportedly more than a few val-
ued “intelligence assets” among the remaining staffers.48 However, just as the
Embassy staff predicted only two weeks after it was announced that the Shah
was headed for New York,on November 4, 1979, the US Embassy was occu-
pied by militant students. Fifty-two US hostages were seized.They would not
regain their freedom for 444 days. Brzezinski advised President Carter to
respond immediately with military force. But Carter waited, trying to rely on
weaker methods such as the seizure of Iranian bank deposits.After four months
of stasis, with Senator Kennedy challenging him in the spring primaries and
an election coming up in November, Carter gave in to his National Security
advisor’s hair-brained scheme for a long-distance night raid.The raid ended in
the Iranian desert with eight US soldiers dead in a helicopter crash, Secretary
of State Cyrus Vance resigning in protest, and Khomeini’s supporters more
furious than ever at the US and President Carter.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 319
and Security Issues. Based on Soviet intelligence, the cable alleged that key
European meetings between Casey and Bush had indeed taken place and that
the quid pro quo for delaying the hostage release had been spare parts for F-
14s, Lance-class surface-to-surface missiles, and other US weapons that Iran’s
US-trained army depended on. These were to be shipped with US approval
by way of Israel and private arms dealers. According to Parry, the Committee
received this cable from the Russians on January 11, 1993, two days before its
final report, and ten days before President Clinton’s inauguration. Incredibly,
the Committee decided not to investigate the allegations further.51
There was also another curious incident that involved Rockefeller’s close
aid and the Shah’s personal banker, Joseph V. Reed. In December 1992,
Charles G. Cogan, a senior Middle East specialist at the CIA, gave a classifed
deposition to Hamilton’s Task Force. He reported that in September 1981, he
happened to be in CIA director William J. Casey’s new seventh floor office in
Langley,Virginia when Reed suddenly appeared. Cogan testified under oath
that he had a “definite memory” that he overheard Reed remark to Casey,
“We really fucked up Carter’s October Surprise.” Questioned later about the
incident by FBI agents at his fifty-acre estate in Greenwich, Connecticut,
Reed admitted that as the newly-appointed US ambassador to Morocco, he
had called on Bill Casey to “pay his respects.” But he denied even knowing
what “October Surprise” referred to. He also denied having visited Casey in
1980, during the run up to the elections, even though a sign-up sheet at Rea-
gan-Bush Headquarters in Arlington revealed that he and Archibald B. Roo-
sevelt Jr., one of the 1953 coup architects and a Chase vice president had
indeed both called on Casey on September 11, 1980.52 Without more new
evidence, however these allegations were just interesting curiosities. The
October Surprise theory is likely to remain yet another unproven conspiracy
theory, attracting those who like to believe that history is just one cabal after
another.
Moreover, as interesting as it was, the October Surprise theory basically
missed the big picture.The far more important “cabal” was out in plain view:
the small group of Chase bankers and fellow-travelers whose lobbying efforts
helped to precipitate the hostage crisis and all the desperate rescue attempts
that followed. Furthermore, through all their unquestioning support of the
Shah’s strategy, they had also helped to create an opportunity for the Ayatol-
lah Khomeini to return by popular acclamation and take control of the coun-
try. Long before the Shah’s downfall, it was this unquestioning support—
lubricated with arms, aid, loans, bribes, kickbacks, money laundering services,
spying skills and technologies, plus the 1953 coup—that fed his arrogance and
encouraged his unbalanced development strategy.This did not require a con-
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 321
cent of the population, and 85 percent of the army), Saudi Arabia (at least five
hundred thousand Shi’a citizens), Kuwait (30 percent), Bahrain (70 percent),
and Soviet-occupied Afghanistan (15–20 percent). So with tacit US support,
Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, Jordan, and the Gulf States started to rebuild relation-
ships with their new best friend in the region—Iraq’s Saddam Hussein.
By the late 1970s, Saddam Hussein had already ruthlessly consolidated his
power base. In July 1979, he pushed aside President Ahmed al-Bakr “for
health reasons” and purged sixty-eight members of Iraq’s Revolutionary
Council, accusing them of conspiring with Syria’s Ba’athists.57 He then
turned his attention to Iran. His motives were partly defensive. Not only had
Khomeini promised to export revolution, but he also singled out secular states
like Iraq, Egypt, and Jordan, promising to “eradicate or subjugate” Arab
nationalism to achieve “the higher unity of Islam.”58 In June 1979, he
exhorted Iraqis to “rise up and overthrow the Saddam Husseinite regime.”
Apparently Khomeini hoped that Iraqi Shi’as (albeit Arabs, not Persians,
unlike most Iranians) might rise up spontaneously. Most did not, and those
who did were easily suppressed. But from Saddam Hussein’s perspective, it
was the thought that counted.59
Saddam Hussein feared that once Khomeini consolidated his grip on
Iran, the country might become a serious strategic threat right on Iraq’s
doorstep. After all, Iran had a population three times greater than Iraq, a far
more modern military, a capital city that was farther from the border and eas-
ier to defend, a long coastline, and a longer history as a unified country under
its Persian Shiite majority.60 While Iraq was also an oil exporter with a large
standing army, and had even tried to acquire nuclear weapons in the 1970s, it
had not spent anywhere near what the Shah did on jet fighters, a navy, tacti-
cal missiles, or air defense.With the Shah gone, Saddam Hussein also saw signs
that Khomeini was resuming aid to the Kurds, who constituted fifteen per-
cent of Iraq’s population.
On the offensive side, Saddam may have seen an opportunity to reverse
the concessions that he had been forced into by the Shah at Algiers, to get
Iran to call off the Kurds. This included half of the Shatt-al-Arab waterway,
Iraq’s only outlet to the Persian Gulf. It is unlikely that Saddam intended to
conquer all of Iran, or kill Khomeini, which would have exacerbated his
political problems with Iraq’s Shi’a majority. But depending on how the war
went, he may have hoped to seize oil-rich Khuzestan, Iran’s key oil province
in the southwest.A third of its 3.5 million people were not Persians but Arabs.
Finally, he may have also viewed the invasion as a way to enhance his clout in
the region, in the wake of Sadat’s ejection from the Arab League after Egypt’s
1979 peace treaty with Israel. In this regard, he may have hoped not only to
impress countries like Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, but also the US, filling the
void left by the Shah.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 325
At first Saddam experimented with diplomacy. Iraq was one of the first
countries to recognize the new Islamic Republic of Iran in early 1979. In
August 1979, it invited Mehdi Barzargan, Iran’s moderate first president, for a
visit. But Barzargan’s government fell apart during the early days of the
hostage crisis and was replaced by that of President Abol Hassan Bani-Sadr,
which was more hostile. Khomeini’s followers had also started to incite revolt
among Iraq’s Shi’as. In February 1979, after Khomeini’s threat to export rev-
olution, Saddam Hussein dispatched troops to suppress demonstrations
incited by Iranian radicals in the southern Shi’a holy cities of Najaf and Kar-
bala. These demonstrations were strong enough to compel Saddam to insti-
tute martial law and to arrest Ayatollah Sadr, a leading Shi’a cleric and
Khomeini ally.After the execution of ninety-seven of their supporters in April
1980, the militant Shi’a group Ad Dawah, with Iranian support, tried to kill
Iraq’s deputy premier Tariq Aziz.The assassination attempt prompted Saddam
to get even tougher: He ordered Sadr’s execution, closed Iraq’s border to Shi’a
pilgrims, expelled up to a hundred thousand Shi’as, and put relations with
Iran on hold.61 By April 1980, Saddam had given up on the diplomatic alter-
native and was focused on preparing an invasion—in George W. Bush’s terms,
a “preventive war.”
With Iran in turmoil, its entire officer class purged after unsuccessful
coup attempts in May and July 1980, and the hostage crisis still unresolved,
Saddam believed the time was right to strike early and dismember Iran’s
regime. If he waited, he feared that the Islamic Republic would only grow
stronger. It might even strike a covert arms deal with the US to release
hostages, trading improved relations for spare parts. He was right to suspect
these possibilities—from 1981 on, the Reagan administration did all of these
things, taking the first steps toward “Iran-Contra.”
Like Argentina’s junta on the brink of the Falklands invasion, Saddam ini-
tially expected the war to last only a couple of weeks. Among other things,
he hoped that Khuzestan’s Arabs would greet him as a liberator and support
the formation of a “Free Republic of Iran,” with the Shah’s deposed former
premier Shahpour Bakhtiar as its head. His financial resources were adequate
for a short war. Partly because of the Iran Crisis, oil prices in 1979–80 had
skyrocketed and Iraq’s coffers were full. Indeed, Saddam had already ordered
major new weapons systems, like French Mirage jet fighters, for delivery in
1981. But since training on these systems would take time, he decided not to
wait. His impatience proved very costly.
All that was missing was international support. Ordinarily one would
have expected Saddam to turn to the Soviets. Since the 1972 Treaty of
Friendship with Iraq, the Soviet Union had been one of Iraq’s largest oil buy-
ers and its largest arms supplier, along with France, Poland, China, Czecho-
slovakia, and Brazil. But the Soviets already had their hands full in
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 326
for an “end to the fighting,” not even for a withdrawal of forces. Back then,
Iraq still had friends in high places—or at least more friends than Iran had.
In April 1980, Brzezinski signaled that the US was open to a warmer rela-
tionship with Iraq.66 In June 1980, Iranian students disclosed a copy of a
secret shredded memo found at the US Embassy in Tehran, addressed from
Brzezinski to Secretary of State Vance. It recommended that the US enlist
Iran’s neighbors to “destabilize” Iran’s new regime, much as the US was doing
in Soviet-occupied Afghanistan.67 Iran’s president after Barzargan, Bani-Sadr,
later charged that Brzezinski had met with Saddam Hussein in Jordan just two
months before the invasion, reportedly informing him that the US would not
oppose the separation of Iran’s oil-rich province of Khuzestan from the rest
of the country. The US government also may have shared a confidential
memo on Iran’s internal situation with Saddam that suggested—quite
falsely—that Khomeini’s regime was crumbling.68 Other reports indicate that
by mid-1980, the US was already considering the restoration of diplomatic
relations with Iraq, which had been suspended since the 1967 Six-Day War.
But it delayed the move to avoid the appearance of an explicit link to the
invasion. By December 1980, a Miami-based arms dealer, Sarki Soghanalian,
had informed the US government—reportedly without any objection—of
his efforts to supply Saddam Hussein with advanced weaponry, including
Austrian 155mm artillery and East Bloc weaponry that Saddam was having
trouble slipping past the Russian embargo.69 An April 1981 briefing by Al
Haig, summarizing the highlights of his visit to the Middle East that month,
reported that “It was interesting to confirm that President Carter gave the
Iraqis a green light to launch a war against Iran through Fahd.”70
Whatever pre-war encouragement Saddam Hussein received from the
US, it is quite clear that he received even more from US client states in the
region. In May 1980, Saddam traveled to Amman to visit Jordan’s King Hus-
sein—another long-time recipient of CIA largesse—and discuss his plans to
invade Iran. The King was reportedly very receptive.71 On September 5,
1980, Saddam Hussein—on his very first visit to Riyadh—conveyed the same
message to Saudi’s King Fahd, who promised to support the move with
finance and arms purchases. He also reportedly obtained similar encourage-
ment from Kuwait’s Emir, Morocco’s King Hasan, and Egypt’s Sadat.72
Encouraged by all this support, on September 17, Saddam Hussein abro-
gated his Algiers treaty with Iran. On September 22 he attacked with five of
his twelve divisions across the Shatt-al-Arab and launched air strikes on ten
Iranian airfields, modeling his attack on the “Lightning Strike” tactics used by
the Israelis during the 1967 Six-Day War. Unfortunately for Saddam, he did
not have the expertise of Israeli pilots, US jets, or much strategic imagination.
Most of Iran’s Air Force survived and then retaliated almost immediately with
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 328
highest level State Department contact with Iraq since 1977. He expressed
strong interest in increasing US trade with Iraq and assured the Iraqis—
falsely—that the US would not sell any arms to Iran.74 In May 1981, senior
State Department officer Thomas Eagleton also met with Tariq Aziz, reiterat-
ing the administration’s desire for warmer business relations.
When Israel used sixteen F-16s to bomb Iraq’s French-supplied Osirak
nuclear reactor in June 1981 without US permission, the White House
advised Congress that this was a “substantial” violation of the Arms Export
Control Act and reduced Israeli access to US satellite intelligence of its neigh-
bors for a while.75 By the end of 1981, according to former US senator
D’Amato, the US had “State Department” people coming out from Baghdad
to monitor Iraq’s front lines and provide tactical intelligence.76 On the other
hand, the US wasn’t ready for a public tilt in Iraq’s direction.That would have
greatly alarmed its other key ally in the region, Israel, which had nuclear
weapons, had demonstrated its capacity to act independently if threatened,
and had a much stronger political lobby. Nor did the US really want Iraq to
win the war—for example, it intervened with the Saudis and others to block
the use of air bases in the Gulf by Iraq.The cynical objective, as a CIA agent
who supplied intelligence to both sides during the war said, was to “keep the
war even.”77
As Iraq’s military and financial position deteriorated and Iran’s soldiers
crossed the border in 1982, however, the US leaned farther and farther in
Saddam Hussein’s direction. In February 1982, Reagan removed Iraq from
the State Department’s list of countries that allegedly supported “state-backed
terrorism.” Iraq had been one of the top four countries on the list since 1979,
along with Syria, South Yemen, and Libya. It was still harboring legendary ter-
rorists like Abu Abbas and Abu Nidal—although Saddam Hussein briefly
expelled Nidal in 1983 to gain better US relations.78 The reclassification made
Iraq eligible to buy dual-use technologies from the US, like helicopters and
heavy trucks, and also allowed it to obtain US EXIM Bank credits and other
US government-guaranteed loans.79
The relationship continued to build in 1983, with an informal meeting
between Secretary of State George P. Schultz and Tariq Aziz in May 1983, and
a secret July 1983 National Security policy directive by Reagan, declaring it
US policy to prevent Iraq from losing the war.80 In October 1983, the US
supported the adoption of UN Resolution 540, which called for an immedi-
ate cease-fire and negotiations. Iraq supported the resolution and was grate-
ful to the US for its support. Iran voted against it, because its goal was regime
change.81 In the face of increased Iranian attacks on Iraqi oil tankers, Reagan
approved another directive in November 1983 that called on the US govern-
ment to undertake “whatever measures may be necessary to keep the Straits
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 330
In any case, the head of the US interests section in Iraq later commented
that Ambassador Rumsfeld’s visit had “elevated US-Iraqi relations to a new
level,” describing this as “both symbolically important and practically helpful.
. . . [T]he Iraqi leadership was extremely pleased with Ambassador Rumsfeld’s
visit.Tariq Aziz had gone out of his way to praise Rumsfeld as a person. . . .”85
On January 1, 1984, it was reported that “the US has informed friendly Per-
sian Gulf nations that ‘the defeat of Iraq in the three-year-old war with Iran
would be contrary to US interests’ and has made several moves to prevent that
result.”86
Among the topics conspicuously missing from Rumsfeld’s discussions
were Iraq’s repeated use of chemical weapons and its many programs to
develop nuclear weapons, biological weapons, long-range missiles, and other
“weapons of mass destruction.” In Rumsfeld’s ninety-minute discussion with
Saddam Hussein on December 20, 1983, these subjects were not mentioned
once. In his two and one-half hour meeting the following day with Tariq
Aziz, there was a one-sentence mention, one of several matters like “human
rights” and a “possible escalation in the Gulf ” that might “inhibit US efforts”
to assist Iraq. Nor were these contentious subjects even mentioned in Rums-
feld’s follow-up meetings with Aziz in Baghdad in March 1984.87 The Bech-
tel pipeline matter, however, featured prominently in all these discussions.
Inattention to chemical weapons and other “WMD” issues was certainly
not due to US ignorance.The CIA had concluded just before Rumsfeld’s visit
that even after Israeli bombing of the Osirak reactors, Saddam’s nuclear efforts
had continued.88 As for chemical weapons,Tehran Radio broadcast allegations
that Iraq had already used chemical bombs in November 1980 at the town of
Susangerd, clearly violating the 1925 Geneva Protocol, which both Iran and
Iraq had signed. But the real surge in Iraq’s chemical weapons use came after
May 1982, when Iran’s advances and its “human wave” tactics forced Iraq to
search for tougher anti-personnel weapons. In the next two years, Iraq used
CS and mustard gas at least fifty times, and also experimented with tabun, a
nerve gas. It continued to use chemical weapons throughout the war, adding
the nerve gases sarin and VX to its arsenal in 1988. However, the US and the
UN never placed any sanctions on Iraq during this period. Iraqi documents
obtained by UNSCOM, the UN weapons inspectors in the 1990s later
showed that between 1983 and 1988, the Iraqi Air Force dropped
13,000–19,500 chemical bombs.89 “Bomber” Harris would have been proud.
In November 1983, two State Department memos to Secretary Schultz
and Undersecretary of State for Political Affairs Lawrence S. Eagleburger,
more than a month before Ambassador Rumsfeld’s visit, called attention to
the fact that Iraq had been using tear gas, skin irritants, and lethal gas “quite
effectively” against Iran as early as July 1982; that Iraq had used them again in
October 1982, August 1983, September 1983, and was now using them
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 332
“almost daily”; that Iran had complained to the UN about Iraq, and that Iraq
had also acquired “a CW production capability, primarily from Western firms,
including possibly an (unnamed) US foreign subsidiary.”90 In February 1984,
just after Rumsfeld’s first visit to Baghdad, an Iraqi military spokesperson
acknowledged their existence, warning that “The invaders should know that
for every harmful insect, there is an insecticide capable of annihilating it . . .
and Iraq possesses this annihilation insecticide.”91 On March 5, 1984, with the
UN about to issue a report confirming Iran’s allegations, the State Depart-
ment issued a statement acknowledging that Iraq had used chemical weapons.
But this was a mere footnote, compared to all the friendly private discussions
with Iraq’s dictatorship about restoring diplomatic relations, building
pipelines, and helping Iraq secure new sources of finance. Indeed, on March
23, 1984, the day before Rumsfeld had a follow-up meeting with Aziz in
Baghdad, Iran’s news agency reported that Iraq launched yet another chemi-
cal weapons attack, injuring six hundred soldiers.The very day of Rumsfeld’s
visit, UPI reported that the UN had substantiated Iran’s allegations.92 So this
must have felt a little like sitting down with Hitler and von Ribbentropp in
the Bertesgarten in 1943, and pitching a new pipeline to Rumania.
Given the fact that about half of US oil came from the Middle East and
an even higher share for its First World trading partners in Europe and Japan,
the US government was focused primarily on what it considered essential for
the security of its oil suppliers in the region, not such distracting “moral”
issues.At the time, the chemical weapons issue was viewed as a public relations
annoyance to be managed, not a priority concern. Privately, from a technical
standpoint, the US was even sympathetic to the viewpoint that Iraq needed
weapons like chemical weapons and cluster bombs to respond effectively to
Iran’s human waves—with thousands of children sent forth in groups of
twenty, roped together to prevent them from losing courage, human versions
of Morocco’s mine-detecting monkeys. CIA director William J. Casey viewed
cluster bombs as an ideal “force multiplier” for Iraq under these conditions.93
In the words of one US Defense Intelligence Agency officer who assisted Iraq
with detailed battle planning,“The use of gas on the battlefield was not a mat-
ter of deep strategic concern. . . . It was just another way of killing people.The
Pentagon was not so horrified by the Iraqi’s use of gas.”94 An Iraqi general later
described the effects of chemical weapons on the Iranian waves:“We harvested
them.”
In 1986, when it looked like Iran might be regaining the initiative again,
the US vetoed a UN Security Council resolution condemning Iraq for the
use of mustard gas against Iran’s troops. That year, Vice President Bush also
reportedly advised Saddam Hussein to increase his air strikes on Iran, even as
the Reagan administration was busy selling anti-aircraft missiles to Iran—a
case of supply creating its own demand.95
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 333
baum,Alan Simpson, and former senator Howard H. Baker Jr.—who had also
served as Reagan’s chief of staff, majority leader in the US Senate, and a mem-
ber of the Foreign Intelligence Board—visited Saddam Hussein in Baghdad.
On April 12, 1990, Senator Simpson told him,“I believe your problem is with
the Western media, not the US Government. . . .The press is spoiled and con-
ceited. My advice to you is to allow those bastards to come here and see things
for themselves.” Or, as Senator Metzenbaum put it, just four months before
the invasion of Kuwait, with no dissent from any of the other senators pres-
ent, “I believe your Excellency can be a very effective force for peace in the
Middle East.”
Of course, the US recognized that Saddam Hussein had axes to grind, like
a Palestinian state, which he favored, and Kurdish independence, which he
opposed. But these were not issues that threatened the basic US-Iraq rela-
tionship. As FDR once remarked about Nicaragua’s General Anastasio
Somoza Garcia,“He may be a sonafabitch, but he is our sonafabitch.” In Sad-
dam Hussein’s case, he was never quite “our sonafabitch,” but we had as strong
a claim to paternity as anyone.
THE FLOODGATES
The Rumsfeld visit in December 1983 was widely viewed, not just as an
incidental house call, but as a real icebreaker. It established a direct channel
between Saddam Hussein and the White House and laid the foundations for
the restoration of full diplomatic relations, which followed in November
1984. Soon after that, the US business community joined in, eager to capital-
ize on commercial opportunities. That same month, the US-Iraq Business
Forum was founded by Marshall Wiley, a former State Department officer
who had been stationed in Baghdad. It was chaired by A. Robert Abboud, the
former chairman of First Chicago Bank from 1975 to 1980, who in 1988 had
taken over Houston’s failing First City Bank with the help of a $1 billion cap-
ital injection from the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (FDIC).101 Its
members included leading US companies such as HP, ITT, GM,Westinghouse
and AT&T. Collectively, they accounted for one hundred of the eight hun-
dred export licenses that the US Commerce Department granted for exports
to Iraq in the 1980s.102 Over the next few years, their lobbying efforts paved
the way for a dramatic increase in US exports to Iraq, much of it financed by
government loans. Abboud’s First City Bank extended several loans to Iraq,
including $38 million by way of the US Commodity Credit Corporation
program and a $49.9 million credit in February 1989 to Rafidain, Iraq’s Cen-
tral Bank, which defaulted on the loan after the invasion of Kuwait.103
Abboud was also very close to the Bush family. On August 7, 1990, just a few
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 335
was through arms dealers like Carlos Cardoen, a Chilean arms manufacturer
and dealer who, with William J. Casey’s support, got US permission in 1983
to license cluster bomb technology from International Signal and Control, a
Pennsylvania company. He not only sold cluster bombs to Iraq, but an entire
cluster bomb plant—later destroyed by a US bomb during the Gulf War. To
help with his relations in Washington D.C., Cardoen hired former US ambas-
sador to Chile James Theberge, who also continued to serve on a CIA senior
review panel.109 Teledyne Industries, a leading US conglomerate, was later
convicted of criminal conspiracy and violating the Arms Control Act for sell-
ing Cardoen 130 tons of zirconium for bomb fuses.110 Miami-based Sarki
Soghanalian packaged a $500 million helicopter deal and a $1.6 billion deal
for 155-millimeter howitzers. Working with a D.C.-based company, Global
Research International, in 1983 he also arranged to sell Iraq $183 million in
military uniforms that were actually manufactured in Romania, then under
the control of the Communist dictator Ceaucescu. GRI was reportedly run
by Lt. Colonel John Brennan, a former aid to President Nixon; GRI had
Nixon, John Mitchell, and Spiro Agnew on its board.111 In another case, an
Iraqi-born engineer who had designed a chemical weapons plant in Libya set-
tled in Florida, where he sourced chemical weapons components for Iraq.112
Meanwhile, in December 1982, the Reagan administration approved the
export of sixty Hughes MD 500 Defender helicopters to Iraq, which had
been advertised as an antitank killer.113 They were delivered in 1983, along
with ten Bell helicopters, officially for “crop spraying” by Iraq’s Agricultural
Aviation Department, but easily modified to handle chemical weapons. In
February 1984, Bell Textron’s Italian subsidiary sold Iraq eight AB 212 mili-
tary helicopters, worth $164 million, for antisubmarine warfare, and with
Soghenalian’s help, its US division sold them another forty-eight Bell 214ST
helicopters, worth $200 million. Some of these helicopters, including those
modified by Cardoen to fly long distances, later turned up in Saddam Hus-
sein’s March 1988 gas attack on Halabja.114
In August 1984, the CIA set up a direct Washington D.C.-to-Baghdad
intelligence link, permitting Saddam Hussein access to satellite photos and
other intelligence. Over the next six years, a team of sixty US DIA officers
secretly provided Iraq with detailed information on Iranian troop and ship
deployments, tactical planning, and plans for air strikes—information that Iraq
used to improve its bombing raids. It also used this information to “calibrate”
the effects of mustard gas attacks on Iranian troops—a case of US forces col-
laborating directly with Iraq in violation of the 1925 Geneva treaty barring
the use of chemical weapons.115 General Fawzi al-Shamari, who defected to
the US in 1986 to run a sweetshop in Northern Virginia, reported that he had
indeed fired chemical weapons from howitzers with devastating impact. Since
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 337
he had no satellites of his own and was miles from the target, how did he do
the targeting? “We got the information from American satellites.”116
After the March 1982 relevation by New York Times reporter Leslie Gelb
that Israel had established a lucrative weapons trade with Iran, re-selling US-
made weapons and spare parts, and especially after a small Lebanese newspa-
per with close ties to Iran, Al-Shiraa, exposed the Iran-Contra arms scandal in
November 1986—Iraq became more suspicious of its US allies.117 It sus-
pected that all the “free” intelligence may have had a price. In February 1986,
when Iran captured the Fao Peninsula near Basra, Iraq blamed the defeat on
US government manipulation of intelligence: “They kept telling us that the
Iranian attack was not aimed against Fao.”118 Nevertheless, Iraq maintained
relations with the US, double-checking information whenever possible with
other sources, including the Soviets. The whole enterprise became a hall of
mirrors, with only battlefield outcomes able to decide who was lying or sell-
ing what to whom.
Meanwhile, with Western help, Iraq was able to establish a first-rate sup-
ply chain for chemical weapons. Here the real market leaders were the West
Europeans. The German company Preussag supplied Saddam Hussein with
tons of raw materials required for manufacturing nerve gas, and helped build
production facilities. Hoechst reportedly supplied at least ten tons of phos-
phorus oxychloride to make sarin, and Karl Kolb helped Iraq build chemical
weapons manufacturing facilities. The Dutch firm KBS supplied Iraq with
three thousand tons of precursor chemicals from 1982 to 1984.119 By 1985,
with the help of German and UK technology, Iraq was able to produce about
fifty tons a year of mustard gas at a factory in Sammara. However, the process
it used depended on importing large quantities of a chemical called thiodyg-
lycol. In April 1988, US Customs discovered that a Baltimore company,Alco-
lac International, was shipping 538 tons of thiodyglycol to Iraq by way of a
shell company in Brooklyn.120
In 1988, the State Department approved the sale to Iraq of a million
atropine injectors, an antidote to nerve gas, ostensibly for “defensive” pur-
poses—even though Iran only had cyanide gas, not nerve gas.Their real pur-
pose was to handle “blowback” accidents caused by Iraq’s own gases when
they were used on offense.A huge stockpile of these US- and European-sup-
plied injectors was discovered by US troops when they invaded Iraq in 2003.
In December 1988, long after the incidents at Halabja, the US Com-
merce Department approved Dow Chemical’s sale of $1.5 million in pesti-
cides to Iraq, financed by the US EXIM Bank.The bank found “no reason”
to stop the sale, despite the fact that the pesticides were highly toxic to
humans, capable of causing asphyxiation.121 Other US companies provided
chemical analysis equipment for Iraq’s Atomic Energy Commission.122 And
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 338
while Bechtel may not have won the Jordan pipeline, it was listed in Iraq’s
December 2002 report to UN weapons inspectors as one of the key compa-
nies that supplied Saddam Hussein with equipment and know-how for pro-
ducing chemical weapons, as the prime contractor on PC 1 and 2—two
petrochemical plants that it built in Iraq during the 1980s with dual-use
capacity.
By 1990, with all this help, Iraq had produced at least a hundred thousand
unfilled and forty-six thousand filled chemical munitions.123 But Saddam Hus-
sein also wanted to develop biological weapons in his arsenal to offset Iran’s
population advantage. From 1984 to 1990, not long after Iraq began a secret
biological weapons development program in 1985, the US and other First
World countries supplied Saddam Hussein with seed stock, growth media, fer-
mentation equipment, atomizers, and other supplies needed to make biologi-
cal weapons in quantity. Between 1984 and 1989, the US Center for Disease
Control sent Iraq at least eighty agents, including botulinum toxoid,Yersinia
pestis, dengue virus, and the West Nile antigen and antibody. The American
Type Culture Collection (ATCC), a nonprofit organization based in
Rockville, Maryland, that supplies biological products to scientists, also made
numerous shipments to Iraq. Between 1985 and 1989,ATCC sent Iraq seventy
shipments with twenty-one strains of anthrax, including three strains of the
virulent “vollum” variety, plus fifteen Class III pathogens, including E. coli, Sal-
monella cholerasuis, Clostridium botulinum, Brucella meliteusis, and Clostid-
ium perfringens. Other suppliers of biological weapons materials and equip-
ment included France, Germany, Russia, and the UK.124
By 1989, Saddam Hussein had been able to assemble the technical
expertise required to have a stockpile of biological weapons munitions that
included 150 aerial bombs, at least 25 special chemical/biological Al-Hussein
ballistic missile warheads, biological weapons sprayers for the Mirage F-1 air-
craft, and mobile production facilities that could produce “dry” biological
agents.125 Iraq admitted to UNSCOM that it had produced at least 8,500
liters of anthrax in the 1980s, but the actual number may have been higher.
It also admitted to having produced 19,000 liters of botulinum toxin.126
With a seemingly inexhaustible appetite for advanced weapons, Saddam’s
regime continued to pursue the development of nuclear weapons and other
more exotic weapons, such as fuel-air bombs, long-range missiles, and the
“supergun,” designed by the eccentric Canadian engineer Gerald Bull.127 In
fact, very little was denied to Saddam Hussein during this period, despite the
fact that helping him to develop such weapons was often a clear violation of
international law. In the five years leading up to the invasion of Kuwait in
August 1990, the US Department of Commerce licensed more than $1.5 bil-
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 339
THE LIST
In December 2002, when Iraq responded to the demands of UN
weapons inspectors for an itemized declaration of all their “weapons of mass
destruction,” Iraq surprised the Security Council with an 11,800-page docu-
ment that included data on the sources of weapons procurements that they
had never been asked to provide. The US reportedly obtained an advanced
copy of the full document from its friends in Colombia, which was tem-
porarily presiding over the Security Council. It then prepared a three thou-
sand-page version of the document that omitted all the details on weapons
suppliers, and distributed the document to the ten nonpermanent members
of the Security Council, including Germany.129 The ever-circumspect Kofi
Annan, the UN secretary general, said only that it was “unfortunate” that his
organization had allowed the US to take the only complete dossier and edit
it. However, the German newspaper Die Tageszeitung managed to obtain the
full version of the report.130
The original version included more than two hundred companies from
twenty-one countries that, according to Iraq, had supplied them with parts,
material, training, or other assistance relevant to their “weapons of mass
destruction” programs from 1980 to 1998—most of which dated from the
1980s.The list included 86 German, 24 US, 18 UK, 17 Austrian, 16 French,
12 Italian, 11 Swiss, 7 Belgian, 6 Russian, 4 Japanese, 3 Chinese, 3 Dutch, 3
Spanish, 3 Argentine, and 2 Swedish companies.While Germany led the way
in sheer numbers, fifty-five of the companies were US subsidiaries of foreign
companies, indicating the importance of the US as a source for Iraq’s
advanced weapons efforts. Many companies on the 2002 list had in fact
already been included in a 1990 compilation of press reports assembled by the
Simon Wiesenthal Center.131 The resulting supply network was a hit parade
of leading Western multinationals. In addition to those already mentioned, it
included the following companies: ABB, AEG, Aerospatiale, Alcolac, Astra
Holdings PLC, Bechtel, Bofors, Carl Zeiss, Cerberus, Consarc, Creusot-Loire,
Data General, Daimler Benz, Dassault, Dresser Industries (later acquired by
Halliburton), Dupont, Eastman Kodak, Fanuc, Fiat, Gerber Systems, GM,
Hochtief, Interchem Inc., International Computer Systems, HP, Hoechst,
Honeywell, KWU, Leybold Vacuum, Lummus Crest, Mack Truck, Mannes-
mann, Matrix Churchill (75% owned by Iraq), M.W. Kellog, MBB(Messer-
schmidt Bolkow Blohm), Minolta, NEC, Osaka, Philips Petroleum, Perkin-
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 340
BANKING ON SADDAM
One necessary condition for all these arms was the cash to pay for it. One
might have expected an oil-and-gas rich country like Iraq to have no need
for loans to finance its war effort. Depending on the estimates, Iraq has at least
110–200 billion of economically feasible oil reserves, the world’s second or
third largest, and among the least costly to produce. However, when Iraq suf-
fered severe damage to its oil exports early in the war and the war dragged
on, this led to a cash crunch. Therefore, the supply of foreign loans, not
weapons, became the really scarce resource. On the spending side, from Octo-
ber 1980 through 1988, Iraq’s military imports averaged $6–12 billion a year,
while other imports, mostly food grains and durable goods, averaged $6 bil-
lion.138 The size of its armed forces increased from 222,000 full-time military,
250,000 active-duty reserves, and 80,000 paramilitary in 1979 to 520,000
military, 480,000 reserves, and more than 655,000 paramilitary in 1987. In an
economy where nearly half the population was under the age of eighteen,
that was the equivalent of almost twenty percent of all able-bodied males.139
Meanwhile, Iraq’s oil revenues, which accounted for at least ninety per-
cent of its export earnings and almost all its government’s foreign exchange
income, plummeted.140 Before the war, Iraq’s oil production had peaked at
3.5 million barrels per day, of which about 3.2 million were exported. In the
wake of the Shah’s demise and the invasion of Iran, crude oil prices had more
than doubled, from $15 a barrel in 1978 to nearly $35 in 1981.This permit-
ted Iraq to assemble a $31 billion “war chest” of foreign reserves by the start
of the Iran-Iraq War. However, Iran’s air force survived Iraq’s initial attack. It
then proceeded to bomb Iraq’s two main oil export terminals in the Persian
Gulf, Mina al Bakr and Khawr al Amayah, as well as one of its key refineries
at Basra, all of which remained closed until 1988.And while most other Arab
states had closed their Tehran embassies in 1979, the ruling Ba’athists in Syria
decided to side with Iran.The Syrians assisted Iran’s efforts to aid the Hizbol-
lah, a militant Shi’ite group that occupied Lebanon in the 1980s, and shut
down a key Iraqi pipeline.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 342
Iraq’s oil exports fell from 3.2 million barrels per day in 1979 to less than
600,000 barrels per day in 1982–83, and world oil prices also declined
because of the global debt crisis and recession. The result was that Iraq’s oil
revenues declined from a peak of $27 billion in 1980 to less than $10 billion
a year in 1981–84. After 1983, Iraq gradually restored oil exports to a million
barrels per day by 1985 and 1.7 million by 1987, using a combination of new
channels, including tanker-truck convoys through Turkey and Jordan, expan-
sion of its pipeline through Turkey, and a $2.2 billion add-on to its Saudi
pipeline to the Red Sea port of Yanbu, built by a consortium of Japanese,
South Korean, French, and Italian companies (another 500,000 barrels per
day by 1986 and 1.2 million more by 1989).With Soviet help, it also under-
took to develop new oil fields in West Al Qurnah’s Mishrif reservoir. By 1990,
Iraq had restored its export capacity to pre-war levels, but without having to
depend on Persian Gulf shipping.
Despite all these developments, Iraq was barely able to recover half the oil
revenues that it had achieved in the late 1970s. In 1986, just as all these new
channels were coming on stream, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait decided to
increase oil production by more than forty percent. It is still not clear why
this move was taken. Some argue that it was simply to restore these oil king-
doms’ own oil revenues, which had also slumped. But the increased output
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 343
caused spot oil prices to plummet back to thirteen dollars a barrel, less than
half the level when the war started and the lowest real level since 1973.They
remained very low until Iraq’s 1990 invasion of Kuwait.
As a result, from 1981 on, Iraq experienced mounting trade deficits, as oil
revenues plummeted while Iran’s fierce counterattacks necessitated increased
military spending. While Saddam was able to cut back on imports for the
civilian sector to some extent, there were limits to his ability to do so with-
out provoking a popular revolt. By September 1984, Iraq’s foreign reserves
had fallen from $31 billion at the start of the war to less than $3 billion, and
Iraq was tapped out.141 To finance the gap and pay for the war once his own
reserves were exhausted, Saddam borrowed money from almost everyone—
the wealthy kingdoms he was protecting, the First World export credit agen-
cies that financed his imports, arms suppliers, First World banks, and special
under-the-table financing arrangements made by the US government and its
allies.
Estimates vary widely for Iraq’s foreign debt, partly because different
measuring rods and time periods are often used. But by all measures, Iraq’s
accumulated debt burden was very heavy by the end of the 1980s. Iraq’s offi-
cial estimate of its foreign debt as of December 31, 1990 was $42.1 billion.
But this left out a large amount of “quasi-loans” that it obtained from its
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 344
from the USSR ($7 billion for arms), $1 billion from Bulgaria, and $500 mil-
lion from Poland, mainly for export credits.Another $800 million was loaned
by Iraq’s good neighbor to the north, Turkey. Iraq also received $50 million
in foreign aid from the Soviets and Western Europe during this period.
Finally, $19 billion of Iraq’s foreign debt came from First World sources.
This included $13.5 billion of Western bilateral and government-guaranteed
export credits from sixteen countries in the Paris Club, financing Iraq’s
imports of goods and “bads.” The leaders were France’s COFACE, which
loaned $3.75 billion in export credits for arms and $4.3 billion for other
goods; Japan’s JEXIM and leading trading houses, which loaned Iraq 700 bil-
lion yen ($5.8 billion); the UK’s ECGD, which provided more than $1 bil-
lion in credits and became Iraq’s “paramount favored creditor”; Germany’s
HERMES, and several more.144
Many private foreign banks got involved in delivering these guaranteed
credits, and some also provided other credits to Iraq.Among the most impor-
tant private banks involved were Commerzbank, JPMorgan, Chase,
Gironzentrale (Austria), First City Bank of Houston, and Gulf International
Bank (Bahrain). As we saw in Chapter IV, in 1981, Morgan also made several
rather unusual, life-saving loans to the Brazilian arms company, Engesa, one
of Iraqi’s principal arms suppliers. In the late 1990s, former secretary of state
and former Bechtel CEO George P. Schultz became the chairman of JPMor-
gan Chase’s International Council.
Iraq’s heavy debts at the end of the war in 1988 must have been apparent
to Saddam Hussein’s foreign creditors. So why didn’t they force him to
reschedule? Indeed, by 1986, there were mutterings among Paris Club mem-
bers that it was time for such a move. But Saddam Hussein resisted, because
it would have forced him to tighten up on new foreign borrowing, and
slowed his reconstruction plans. The eight-year Iran-Iraq War had taken at
least four hundred thousand Iraqi lives and caused several hundred thousand
more casualties. It also caused $200 billion in damage to infrastructure, leav-
ing Iraq with a struggling economy. There were a million men under arms,
with few jobs available outside the military. With oil revenues still depressed
by increased production from Saudi Arabia and the Gulf States and with an
economy that was still heavily dependent on oil exports and largely closed to
foreign investment, the fact was that Saddam Hussein was entirely dependent
on foreign loans.
So Saddam Hussein preferred to hold off debt rescheduling and keep the
export credits flowing as long as possible.To do so, he played on the compet-
itive rivalries of individual countries and suppliers, promising more new
orders to those who played along and to those who lobbied for his demands.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 346
For a while the plan worked. Even by the fall of 1989, when most interna-
tional banks finally stopped lending to Iraq, he found ways to continue bor-
rowing—with the help of the US EXIM Bank, the US Department of Agri-
culture, and a peculiar giant state-owned Italian bank.
HONEYPOTS
The most important US involvement in Iraqi lending was by way of the
US EXIM Bank and the US Department of Agriculture’s Commodity Credit
Corporation. As Iraq’s debts increased, its aid from the Gulf States tapered off
and its credit-worthiness declined, government-insured credits became
increasingly important. Many were extended after Iraq had already defeated
Iran, and after its extensive use of chemical weapons had become public.
As we saw earlier, President Reagan had cleared the way for such lend-
ing by removing Iraq from its list of terrorism-sponsoring states in 1982. But
EXIM’s director William M. Draper III still had reservations about Iraq’s
credit-worthiness, and had to be lobbied hard by the State Department and
the White House to start lending. In December 1983, Undersecretary of State
Lawrence Eagleburger wrote to Draper, recommending that EXIM consider
financing for Iraq.Vice President George H. W. Bush and National Security
advisor Robert McFarlane also weighed in to support the loan.145
In June 1984, as noted, the US EXIM Bank approved $485 million in
funding for Bechtel’s proposed pipeline project. In 1985, it started to advance
short-term trade credits and insurance for companies that were selling other
goods to Iraq. In March 1986, Iraq went “off cover,” because its economic sit-
uation had deteriorated to the point where it was almost out of reserves, and
it started to default on some of its loans. However, in May 1987,Vice Presi-
dent Bush intervened once again with EXIM, against the advice of its pro-
fessional staff, which argued that Iraq was deeply in debt and had already
defaulted on $1 billion of Western credits. EXIM’s Board overruled its staff
and extended Saddam Hussein another $200 million credit line.146
In January 1990, when Congress was threatening to cut off EXIM Bank
loan guarantees for Iraq because of concerns about human rights violations
and Saddam Hussein’s use of gas against Kurdish villages, a presidential waiver
was drafted by Baker and signed by President George H.W. Bush, stating that
the sanctions were not “in the national interest of the United States.” By
August 1990, EXIM had provided $267 million of credits to finance 187 US
export sales to Iraq, including 250 armored ambulances, portable communi-
cations gear, and Dow’s pesticides.
More importantly, in December 1982, the US Department of Agriculture
(USDA) approved Iraq’s participation in its Commodity Credit Corporation
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 347
(CCC) GSM-102 export credit program. Under the program, the CCC
underwrites private credit extended by American banks to foreign banks or
US exporters. In 1983, it granted Iraq $385 million in credits to import US
grain. This was the first in a long series of such credits. By 1990, they were
being extended at the rate of $1 billion per year, and accounted for more than
twenty percent of the CCC’s entire program.These loans were made, not to
feed Iraq’s people and support US farmers, but as part of an effort to continue
the arming of Iraq, when noone else would pay for it.
In June 1989, US secretary of state James A. Baker III wrote to US secre-
tary of agriculture Clayton Yeuter, asking him to boost the CCC’s loan guar-
antee program to Iraq to $1 billion a year, which the USDA soon did. Even
after the scandal involving Banco Nacional del Lavoro (BNL) surfaced in Sep-
tember 1989, Baker lobbied hard to continue the lending, and the State
Department commented in February 1990 that “the CCC program is a key
component of the relationship. . . .We need to move quickly to repair the dam-
age to the US-Iraqi relationship by getting this critical program on track.”147
Many prominent banks helped to arrange Iraqi credits under the CCC
program, including BNL, JPMorgan, Midland Bank, Chase, First City Bank
of Houston, the Bank of New York, Bank of America, Gulf International
Bank (Bahrain), and Girozentrale (Austria). From 1983 to 1990, the USDA’s
CCC program extended more than $5.5 billion in credits to Iraq—of which
$2 billion was still outstanding when it invaded Kuwait. For a country of sev-
enteen million people, this was an enormous amount of credit. And much of
the grain that it was supposed to have purchased did not even reach Iraq, but
was traded by Saddam Hussein’s intermediaries in Jordan, Turkey, and the
Soviet Union for munitions, spare parts, chemical and other military supplies.
One key route for the grain/arms trade with Iraq was through Wafai
Dajani, a close associate of King Hussein, the CIA’s long-time designated
“king” of Jordan.148 His Jordanian companies—Amman Resources, Wafai
Dajani & Sons,Arab Holdings and Aqaba Packing—accounted for more than
eighty percent of the CCC grain, mainly rice and wheat, that was supposed
to be shipped to Iraq. His companies had also reportedly helped Iraq procure
arms abroad in Portugal and Cyprus.The USDA did not even bother to con-
firm that the grain actually reached its destination. An October 1989 USDA
audit of the program concluded that “It appears more and more likely that
CCC guaranteed funds or commodities may have been diverted from Iraq to
third parties in exchange for military hardware.”149 Another reported
grain/arms conduit and CCC credits beneficiary was the New York-based
commodity firm Entrade, an affiliate of Enka, one of Turkey’s largest multi-
nationals and an arms manufacturer. Entrade reportedly participated in at least
fifty-two CCC-financed transactions, all of them by way of the prolific
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 348
Atlanta branch of BNL—the same one that Dajani used. Clearly something
was afoot.150
BNL’s Atlanta branch had experienced very unusual growth in its loans
and letters of credit in the late 1980s. In early August 1989, the FBI was tipped
off by two BNL employees. When it raided the Atlanta office, it found that
the branch had made more than $5 billion in unauthorized loans to Iraq,
including $900 million that had been guaranteed by the USDA’s CCC pro-
gram, plus about $3 billion in loans and letters of credit to Rafidain, Iraq’s
Central Bank, secured only by BNL’s say-so.156 The US EXIM Bank had also
insured fifty-one BNL loan transactions that were worth another $47 mil-
lion.157
All this made BNL the CCC’s largest relender, as well as Iraq’s single
largest source of private loans in the late 1980s, a period when most other
banks had stopped lending. Most of these loans were not reported to the Fed-
eral Reserve or even to BNL’s own management in the US and Rome. At
least half—$2.2 billion—had gone to Iraq’s Central bank and its Ministry of
Industry and Military Industrialization (MIMI) to finance the military pro-
curement network managed by Saddam Hussein’s son-in-law, Hussein Kamil.
The funds were used to procure equipment for Iraq’s Scud missile upgrades,
short-range rockets, 155mm and 210mm howitzers, the supergun project, its
Condor II long-range ballistic missile project and others. This procurement
network operated with amazing efficiency and mendacity. In the case of the
most sensitive materials, Saddam Hussein’s operatives went to great lengths to
conceal the ultimate destination and what the materials would be used for,
laundering orders through a hierarchy of offshore holding companies in Lon-
don, the Isle of Man, the Cayman Islands, and other leading havens. BNL was
the key link in the supply chain—suppliers were routinely directed to Atlanta
for payment.
Even though the Atlanta branch had supposedly concealed all this activ-
ity from banking authorities, from 1986 to 1990, BNL had sent more three
thousand telexes to Iraq. Since the National Security Agency routinely mon-
itors such communications, the US government must have known about the
branch’s unusual activities. (The US government spends $20–30 billion a year
on the National Security Agency’s signal interception services.)
Most of the suppliers in MIMI’s network had been selected for their raw
technical acumen. But political connections also counted. Servass, Inc.,
another BNL client, was headquartered in Indianapolis, in Vice President Dan
Quayle’s home state. It was owned by Dr. Beurt Servass, a leading Republi-
can who, together with his wife Cory, was the owner and publisher of the Sat-
urday Evening Post. Dr. Servass also had other interesting conservative creden-
tials. In 1976, at the height of South Africa’s apartheid regime, he had assisted
the apartheid government’s efforts to launch The Citizen, a new right-wing
English language daily newspaper based in Johannesburg. It was later revealed
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 350
ior members of the Bush adminstration, approved another $400 million line
of credit for Iraq for FY 1990. At this point, Iraq rejected the aid offer as
insulting, complaining to Secretary of State Baker that they had received $1.1
billion the previous year. Baker promised Tariq Aziz that he would “look into
the matter immediately.” On October 2, 1989, President Bush signed
National Security Directive 26 on US Policy Toward the Persian Gulf, which
mandated a policy of providing “economic and political incentives for Iraq to
moderate its behavior. . . . [W]e should pursue, and seek to facilitate, oppor-
tunities for US firms to participate in the reconstruction of the Iraqi econ-
omy. . . .” On October 26, the State Department cited this directive in rec-
ommending a new $1 billion CCC program for Iraq in FY 1990. Baker and
Eagleburger intervened with Agriculture Secretary Yeutter to support this
recommendation, which was accepted in November 1989. The CCC pro-
gram was finally halted in May 1990, only three months before the invasion
of Kuwait, because of all the controversies surrounding the BNL investiga-
tion. By then, however, half of Iraq’s $1 billion allocation for FY 1990 had
already been used.
Meanwhile, the lower-level professional civil servants at the Department
of Justice and the FBI pursued a lengthy investigation of the BNL matter. But
the administration responded with a full-scale cover-up of almost Nixonian
proportions. A US Senate investigation revealed that the US Commerce
Department, charged with providing export licenses for US companies sup-
plying dual-use products to Iraq, sped up the process and even changed the
data recorded on at least 68 of the 771 export licenses for sales to Iraq from
1985 to 1990 to conceal their military purposes.This was reportedly done on
orders from Paul Freedenberg and Dennis Kloske, two successive directors of
the US Commerce Department’s Bureau of Export Administration in the late
1980s.161 Moreover, according to House Banking Committee chairman
Henry B. Gonzalez, top State Department and CCC officials repeatedly lied
to Congress about the Iraq program.162
In February 1990, Attorney General Richard Thornburgh prevented
Department of Justice investigators from traveling to Rome and Istanbul to
interview senior people at BNL and pursue other leads.163 He also squelched
all efforts to establish what intelligence agencies in the US, the UK, and the
Italian government really knew about BNL’s Atlanta branch. And even after
Iraq’s invasion, in September 1990, he wrote to Congressman Gonzalez,
appealing to him to call off his House Banking Committee investigation of
the BNL saga on grounds of “national security.”164
In the end, the US Justice Department waited a whole year, until the cul-
mination of the Gulf War in February 1991, to issue a draft indictment. It
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 352
tried to pin all the blame on Chris Drogoul, BNL’s Atlanta branch manager,
and a few lower-level associates.The initial indictment charged Drogoul with
347 counts of money laundering, tax evasion, and a multibillion dollar bank
fraud, as if it were a rogue operation. This permitted BNL to avoid being
indicted for fraud against the US government. The fraud claim also meant
that BNL could later claim $400 million from the Clinton administration in
1995, as compensation for Iraq’s failure to honor its loans.165
However, this “rogue operation” assumption ignored the substantial body
of evidence that BNL-Rome, the Italian government, the UK government,
and the US government had all known about BNL’s Iraqi procurement net-
work right from the start. Judge Marvin Shoob, the highly-regarded US Fed-
eral District Court judge who presided over Drogoul’s prosecution in
1991–93, observed at the sentencing of five lower-level BNL bank officials
who had been charged with bank fraud:
However, the US government did not take Judge Shoob’s advice. In fact, on
August 23, 1992, John Hogan, the chief of staff for President Clinton’s new
attorney general Janet Reno, informed Shoob that his own four-month inves-
tigation of the case had concluded that: “The people in Atlanta were not
working . . . at the direction of, with the knowledge of, or under the auspices
of the bank in Rome. . . . [W]e did not find compelling evidence there was a
conspiracy.”167 The incredulous Shoob responded by sentencing the five
indicted BNL officials to probation or home detention, reiterating that in his
view:
[The five defendants] were pawns or bit players in a far larger and wider-
ranging conspiracy that involved BNL-Rome and possibly large American
and foreign corporations and the governments of the US, England, Italy and
Iraq. . . . It would be the height of hypocrisy to sentence these defendants as
if this were a simple case of wrongdoing by a branch’s employees.168
Following this sentence hearing, the Justice Department got Judge Shoob
removed from the case. His more compliant replacement refused to entertain
any allegations by Drogoul’s defense team of a wider conspiracy. In Septem-
ber 1993, Drogoul, who had already been in jail for seventeen months, pled
guilty to three minor charges involving wire fraud and filing false reports with
the Federal Reserve. He was released with credit for time served.169
In January 1995, the Justice Department’s Janet Reno issued an enhanced
version of John Hogan’s earlier findings, declaring that there was no evidence
that “US agencies or officials illegally armed Iraq.”170 Three weeks later, the
Clinton administration announced that the CCC would pay BNL $400 mil-
lion in compensation for the loans that Iraq had defaulted on.171 This was in
addition to the $1.35 billion that the CCC had already paid out to ten other
banks, including four Middle Eastern ones—one of which, Gulf International
Bank, was partly owned by Iraq. (See Table 8.1.)172
For students of the 1992 Clinton-Gore campaign, this was quite an
about-face.After all, during the fall 1992 election campaign, Democratic vice
presidential candidate Al Gore had claimed that “Iraqgate” was “worse than
Watergate,” and Bill Clinton had promised that if he were elected, an inde-
pendent prosecutor would be appointed to investigate the matter. He
appeared to have George H.W. Bush on the spot. President Bush had asserted
in his third debate with Clinton and Ross Perot that “there isn’t any evidence
that those grain credits were diverted into weaponry—none, none whatso-
ever.”173 And in October 1992, just two weeks before the election, Acting
Secretary of State Eagleburger had written a letter to The New York Times,
denying that any investigation of the CCC program had shown that Iraq had
used it to obtain weapons, that BNL had obtained any credit guarantees, that
US technology had made any significant contribution to the Iraqi military, or
that there was anything secret about US policy toward Iraq.174
In the UK, the Labor Party had also made hay out of the scandal, com-
ing within a single vote of unseating Prime Minister John Major over the
issue in February 1996, when Sir Richard Scott delivered the results of a
three-year investigation of “the arming of Iraq” to Parliament.The investiga-
tion revealed that UK senior government officials had misled Parliament in
1989–90 about the government’s policy on exports to Iraq, though it “did not
find their actions duplicitous in the sense of a cover-up.”175
Once in office, the Clinton administration never mounted anything like
Sir Richard Scott’s three-year independent investigation. Perhaps it was the
electorate’s fleeting attention span, or the Democrats’ loss of a majority in the
House of Representative in the fall 1994 elections, or the fact that “Iraqgate”
had already served the Democrat’s political purposes. There was also the
uncomfortable fact that to really pursue the investigation, it would have to
take on the National Security establishment. Indeed, Hogan’s report had
made curious references to “compartmentalized information” and “special-
ized agencies” within the CIA that even the agency’s own guide dogs had not
known about. Moreover, a cross section of leading US businesses and banks
had profited from the policy, including some leading Democrats. Among the
largest beneficiaries of the USDA’s CCC program for Iraq in the late 1980s
were Arkansas rice farmers, who accounted for more than half of all CCC
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 355
“rice” exported to Iraq. Former Arkansas governor Clinton had always been
one of their strongest supporters.176
PYRRHIC VICTORY
In the wake of Iraq’s victory at Kharbala V in 1987–88, the Ayatollah
Khomeini finally became convinced that the war was unwinnable. In August
1988, he agreed to accept the UN cease-fire that had been offered a year ear-
lier under Resolution 598.The result was essentially a return to existing bor-
ders. The two sides had fought the largest land war since World War II to a
deadlock after eight years, with neither one gaining an inch of territory.
Despite all the costs to both sides, the US government considered this to be
a great success. A classified State Department document reported in 1988:
“The outward thrust of the Iranian revolution has been stopped. Iraq’s inter-
ests in development, modernity, and regional balance should compel it in our
direction.”177
But from Iraq’s standpoint it was at best a Pyrrhic victory. The war had
cost Iraq at least three hundred thousand dead and more than five hundred
thousand other casualties, plus $100–200 billion in damage to infrastructure.
The Iraqi economy was in ruins. By 1989, there were still more than 1 mil-
lion men under arms, out of a population of 17 million. They could not be
demobilized; there were no jobs.
The situation was not aided by Iraq’s “allies” in the region, Kuwait and
Saudi Arabia. The day after Iraq’s cease-fire with Iran, Kuwait announced
plans to increase oil production beyond its OPEC quota, even while Iraq
respected its own quota. In June 1989, Kuwait boosted increased oil pro-
duction again, despite Iraq’s appeals to stop. Each dollar-per-barrel change in
prices cost Iraq about $1 billion in lost revenues. By 1990, the situation was
critical. In the run up to the Kuwaiti invasion, one of Saddam Hussein’s main
grievances concerned oil. According to him, “certain Gulf States” were
flooding the market with oil, pushing down prices. And Kuwait, he alleged,
was also “slant drilling” in the rich oil field of North Rumaila, a region that
had long been claimed by Iraq. But Kuwait rejected these complaints out-
of-hand. As one senior Bush official noted, “When the Iraqis came and said,
‘Can’t you do something about it?’ the Kuwaitis said,‘Sit on it.’And they did-
n’t even say it nicely.They were arrogant . . . they were terrible.”178
In addition to the oil price slump, Iraq’s ability to restart its economy was
severely constrained by its huge foreign debt. By the Iran-Iraq War’s end, Iraq
had one of the world’s highest per capita debt burdens. And most of it had
been incurred, not to build weapons of mass destruction, but for conventional
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 356
BEAR TRAP?
By the early 1990s, all the supply-side conditions needed to motivate
Saddam Hussein to launch his second major war in a decade were in place—
not only his intrinsic aggressions, but also his country’s huge debts, social cri-
sis, and the substantial “excess capacity” in military might that he’d been
encouraged to acquire. But all this just constituted a necessary but insufficient
cause for the war that followed. To account for the war, we also have to
acknowledge the role played by the international community.
The most notorious example of appeasement was US ambassador April
Glaspie’s interview with Saddam Hussein in Baghdad on July 25, 1991, just a
week before the invasion. Glaspie was an experienced professional diplomat
and Middle East expert who was the first female US ambassador posted to an
Arab country. She had been stationed in Baghdad since 1987. Summoned on
short notice to meet with Saddam Hussein, who rarely met with ambassadors,
she knew that he had already moved thousands of troops close to the border
with Kuwait and had been complaining loudly about Kuwait’s overproduc-
tion of oil and its role in Iraq’s foreign debt. But rather than present Saddam
Hussein with a flashing red light about invading Kuwait, she gave him the fol-
lowing indulgence:
Glaspie: I have direct instructions from President Bush to improve our rela-
tions with Iraq.We have considerable sympathy with your quest for higher
oil prices, the immediate cause of your confrontation with Kuwait. As you
know, I have lived here for years and admire your extraordinary efforts to
rebuild your country. We know you need funds. . . . I have received an
instruction to ask you, in the spirit of friendship—not confrontation—
regarding your intentions: Why are your troops massed so very close to
Kuwait’s borders?
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 357
Saddam Hussein: As you know, for years now I have made every effort to
reach a settlement on our dispute with Kuwait.There is to be a meeting in
two days; I am prepared to give negotiations one more brief chance.When
we meet and we see there is hope, then nothing will happen. But if we are
unable to find a solution, then it will be natural that Iraq will not accept
death.
Glaspie:What solutions would be acceptable?
Saddam Hussein: If we could keep the whole of the Shatt al Arab—our
strategic goal in our war with Iran—we will make concessions. But if we are
forced to choose between keeping half of the Shatt and the whole of Iraq,
then we will give up all of the Shatt to defend our claims on Kuwait to keep
the whole of Iraq in the shape we wish it to be.What is the United States’
opinion on this?
Glaspie:We have no opinion on your Arab-Arab conflicts, such as your dis-
pute with Kuwait. Secretary Baker has directed me to emphasize the
instruction, first given to Iraq in the 1960s, that the Kuwait issue is not asso-
ciated with America.180
Glaspie later became the Bush administration’s scapegoat for this Munich-like
response.The State Department disavowed her statement, and never gave her
another senior post. In 1993, when she was serving at the UN Mission in
New York, Madeleine Albright, the new US ambassador to the UN and
future secretary of state, ordered her to clear out her office by the end of the
day.181
However, Glaspie was by no means the only senior First World official
who sent Saddam Hussein mixed signals. In the UK, in July 1990, a cabinet
meeting chaired by Foreign Secretary Douglas Hurd agreed to scrap all the
UK’s remaining restrictions on arms sales to Iraq. On July 24, 1990, Margaret
Tutweiller, the State Department’s spokesperson told an audience of journal-
ists that “We do not have any defense treaties with Kuwait, and there are no
special defense or security commitments to Kuwait.” On July 26, when asked
by journalists whether the US government had filed any protest with Iraq
over its movement of thirty thousand troops to the Kuwaiti border, she
replied that she was “unaware of any such protest,” and let the matter drop.
On July 31, the same day that the US DIA detected Iraqi forces moving mil-
itary supplies to the border, John Kelly, assistant secretary of state for Near
Eastern Affairs, testified before Congressman Lee Hamilton’s House Sub-
committee on Europe and the Middle East that “We have no defense treaty
relationships with any of those countries [in the Gulf]. We have historically
avoided taking a position on border disputes or on internal OPEC delibera-
tions.” Hamilton then questioned him explicitly:
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 358
Hamilton: If Iraq, for example, charged across the border into Kuwait, for
whatever reason, what would be our position with regard to the use of US
forces? . . . In that circumstance, is it correct to say . . . that we do not have
a treaty commitment which would oblige us to engage US forces?
Kelly:That is correct.182
That same day, in a last ditch effort to broker a settlement and avoid a war,
leading Arab countries held a summit at Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. According to
King Hussein, the Al-Saud (Saudi) and Al-Sabah (Kuwait) families also held a
preliminary meeting before the summit where they agreed to boost oil prices,
forgive the sums that Iraq had received from them, and contribute $10 billion
each toward paying off Iraq’s other debts. But at roughly the same time, Sabeh
Ahmed al-Jaber al-Sabah, Kuwait’s foreign minister and the Emir’s brother,
ridiculed the threat of an Iraqi invasion to Jordanian diplomats and reportedly
told them,“If they don’t like it, let them occupy our territory. . . .We are going
to bring in the Americans.” At the summit, he informed Iraq’s vice chairman
Izzat Ibrahim al-Duri that he would only offer Saddam Hussein $500,000.183
The Iraqi delegation walked out furious at the insults.At midnight on August
1, 1990, Iraq crossed into Kuwait with a hundred thousand troops and three
hundred tanks, and Saddam Hussein embarked on his “project to rewrite his-
tory.”
To his evident surprise, the Bush administration responded quickly with
great hostility, embargoing oil imports from Iraq, freezing Iraqi assets in the
United States, and moving naval reinforcements to the Persian Gulf.The US
flatly rejected an offer by Saddam Hussein on August 5 to withdraw his
troops. On August 6, the UN Security Council passed Resolution 660, unan-
imously condemning the Iraqi invasion and calling for an immediate and
unconditional withdrawal.The contrast with the UN’s tepid response to Iraq’s
1980 invasion of Iran was striking.
In retrospect, some have argued that all this must have been an elaborate
“bear trap” contrived to lure Saddam Hussein into invading Kuwait so that
the US could turn on him and destroy him. After all, Iran’s menace had now
been contained. In the process, however, Saddam Hussein’s power had been
enhanced to the point where he was beginning to worry his neighbors—not
only Israel, but also the oil kingdoms. With the demise of the Soviet Union
in 1989–90, he could no longer rely on it for defense.The Bear Trap theory
also makes sense of US indifference to the risk of a Kuwait invasion. It was
certainly not out of the question for the US to sell out its partners and change
sides quickly once it perceived a new balance of power: As the diplomat’s
almanac says,“No permanent friends, no permanent enemies, just permanent
interests.” If independent journalists are to be believed, there is even some
hard evidence that points in this direction.184
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 359
However, the Bear Trap argument may give too little credit to Saddam
Hussein’s own tendency to underestimate his enemies and make incredible
strategic blunders. Of course, it was not helpful that senior diplomats in the
US and the UK sent Saddam Hussein so many ambiguous messages. Once he
went over the line, the Bush administration may well have seized the oppor-
tunity to contain this increasingly problematic dictator. The CIA or DIA
would probably love to take credit for luring him into the trap. However,
given the intelligence agencies’ abysmal track record at forecasting, as well as
their generally conservative view of Saddam Hussein at that time, they may
have been as amazed by his behavior as everyone else.As the hapless DIA pre-
dicted in September 1984, in a classified analysis of likely trends after the war
with Iran:
In the longer term . . . it is unlikely that Hussein will dismantle his military
machine to any great extent.This will leave Iraq with a large seasoned mil-
itary force, one that likely will continue to develop its formidable conven-
tional and chemical capability, and probably pursue nuclear weapons.
Nonetheless, it is unlikely that Baghdad will display any enthusiasm for
engaging its military in new adventures. . . . [N]either Iraqi military nor sub-
versive activity against Arab moderates is likely over the next few years.185
THE COSTS
Compared with the enormous costs of the 1991 Gulf War, the $27 bil-
lion deal with Iraq that Kuwait rejected in July 1990 must now seem like a
bargain to all sides.The costs of the Gulf War alone include an estimated $100
billion in damage to non-oil infrastructure in Kuwait and $50 billion in Iraq;
$61 billion in direct military expenses for the coalition forces; up to $600 bil-
lion in long-term reductions of the region’s gross domestic product; about
2,500–3,500 civilians, 50,000–100,000 Iraqi soldiers, and 350 coalition forces
killed; up to 111,000 indirect civilian deaths, including 70,000 children, due
to the subsequent breakdown in sanitation and the spread of infectious dis-
eases; up to 25,000 coalition troops who complained of Gulf War syndrome,
a mysterious “illness,” that many believed might have been caused by expo-
sure to chemical weapons; nearly 700 oil wells that were set afire, costing
another $20 billion; and 11 million barrels of oil that were released into the
Arabian Gulf, twenty times the size of the 1989 Exxon Valdez spill.186
In addition to its $81–150 billion foreign debt, postwar Iraq was also sad-
dled with UN sanctions and an extra $320 billion in claims for damage com-
pensation, which it was mandated to pay out of oil revenues, channeled
through the UN under terms imposed by the coalition.187 The claims
included $117 billion claimed by Kuwait’s Public Authority for Assessment
of Compensation. By 2003, $148 billion of those claims had been settled for
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 360
thirty cents on the dollar, or $43 billion.The remaining claims may be worth
$30–40 billion. At that rate, if these claims were honored, Iraq would ulti-
mately have paid at least $80 billion in Gulf War compensation—the same
as its entire Iran-Iraq War debt. In the wake of the 2003 US invasion, Kuwait
indicated that it might be willing to exchange a portion of Kuwait’s claims
and unpaid loans for a stake in Iraq’s new oil concessions. Throughout the
1990s, Iraq protested to no avail that many of Kuwait’s claims were spurious,
amounting to yet another forced transfer of Iraq’s oil revenues to wealthy
Kuwaitis, while its own citizens were going hungry. For example, one
wealthy Kuwaiti received $4 million from the UN in compensation for his
lost thoroughbreds, jewelry, and art collection.188
There was also the enormous cost of the trade sanctions, which banned
all imports of Iraqi goods. Imposed by the UN four days after the invasion,
this was one of the most comprehensive economic blockades ever. It failed
to get Saddam Hussein out of Kuwait, topple him from power, or reveal
what he’d done with all his “weapons of mass destruction,” which the UN
inspectors continued to pursue with mixed success from 1991 until Octo-
ber 1998 and again in 2002–03. However, the sanctions did succeed in inter-
rupting Iraq’s supply of basic medicines and hospital equipment, chlorine
and pipes for water treatment plants, pollution control gear for the country’s
oil refineries, and many other imported necessities.All this imposed a fright-
ful cost on ordinary Iraqis. UNICEF estimates that these 1990s UN sanc-
tions boosted infant mortality in Iraq from 25 per 1,000 births in 1990 to
92 per 1,000 in 1995, and reduced per capita caloric intake by one-third. In
1996 the UN Oil-for-Food program was introduced to moderate these
effects, but humanitarian organizations estimated that for the decade as a
whole, sanctions claimed 60,000–100,000 victims per year—half of them
children.189
When asked by reporter Leslie Stahl in 1996 about whether the sanctions
on Iraq were worth the deaths of five hundred thousand Iraqi children, Sec-
retary of State Madeleine Albright replied,“I think this is a very hard choice,
but we think the price is worth it.” Others did not agree.Two successive sen-
ior UN humanitarian program coordinators and the head of the World Food
Program resigned from the program in 1998 and 2000, describing what was
being done to the people of Iraq as “intolerable.” One commented, “How
long should the civilian population of Iraq be exposed to such punishment
for something they have never done?”190 The Clinton administration’s answer
was that, from the standpoint of its own interests, this policy was preferable to
the full-scale invasion that would be needed to take Saddam Hussein out.
Only after September 2001, when most Americans woke up to find out that
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 361
the world’s nastiness had landed on their own shores, and wanted to blame
someone, was there an appetite for such a move.
Meanwhile, the Iraqis least affected by sanctions were of course the
regime’s leaders. A 2002 study by the US General Accounting Office found
that, while the UN Oil-for-Food program was handling $51 billion of Iraq’s
oil revenues from 1997 to 2001, another $6 billion of illicit income was gen-
erated through illegal oil exports and surcharges levied by key officials in
exchange for purchasing contracts.191 Much of this income ended up in dol-
lar accounts in offshore banking havens like Switzerland, Lebanon, and
Cyprus, controlled by Saddam Hussein and his cronies.
Even before taking into account the costs of the 2003 US-led invasion
and the subsequent reconstruction, Saddam Hussein’s attempt to solve his
“debt and oil” problems by invading Kuwait in August 1990 easily had a price
tag—even apart from all the suffering it caused—of at least $500 billion. And
that decision derived from his original October 1980 decision to invade Iraq,
which derived from the Shah’s restoration and demise. By the summer of
2003, when the “Operation Iraqi Freedom” liberators were finally done with
the initial heavy fighting, they discovered that a majority of the long-repressed
people they had just liberated were devout Shi’as, just as in Iran. The first
thing they did was to hold mass demonstrations, demanding that the US leave
their country. Perhaps Khomeini and his supporters had really won the Iran-
Iraq War after all.
example, in 1990, a detailed history of the Iran-Iraq War was written by the
Strategic Studies Institute of the US Army War College. On the subject of
why Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait, it concluded:
In this view, Saddam Hussein was less a madman bent on territorial domina-
tion or revenge against his neighbors and Israel than a bungler, driven into a
corner by his country’s economic crisis and isolation.
Decades ago, in response to the loss of the Shah, the “calculators” in the
national security establishment tried to create a neat perpetual stalemate
between two nasty regimes by helping the slightly lesser-of-two evils. In the
process, they created three monsters.The first, in Iran, became the Shah’s ruth-
less, corrupt secular autocracy.Twenty-five years later, Iran is still struggling to
find a balance between democracy, theocracy, and peaceful relations with its
neighbors and the US. The second, in Afghanistan, ultimately became an al-
Qaeda training camp, an opium farm, and a hunting ground for warlords.The
third, Saddam Hussein’s Iraq, was courted, seduced, and exploited as a blunt
instrument by its “allies” when it suited their purposes. Then it was aban-
doned. When Saddam Hussein appealed to First World banks, Kuwait, and
Saudi Arabia to reschedule his debts and share the costs of the war that he had
fought partly on their behalf, they declined, and cut him off. Evil instincts
notwithstanding, this policy was not calculated to encourage him to be a
good neighbor.
But for this war, it is hard to imagine the 2003 invasion of Iraq—regard-
less of how repressive Saddam was to his own people. Ultimately, the First
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 363
World’s policy toward Iraq was reminiscent of the Allies’ policy toward Ger-
many’s war debts and reparations after World War I. In that case, the resulting
economic burden contributed mightily to the rise of Hitler, and to the “sec-
ond war” that Hitler launched.
And so it was that by summer 2003, Saddam Hussein was finally gone—
or, at least, on the run. The coalition forces continued to be harassed by
guerilla actions, but they tried to turn their attention to searching for
weapons of mass destruction and reestablishing law and order—just a little
too late to prevent rampant footing at Baghdad’s renowned Museum of
Antiquities and National Library. They did, however, manage to secure the
premises of six hundred oil wells and the Iraqi National Oil Company. But it
was not about oil.Within weeks, Schultz’ Bechtel was selected for a $600 mil-
lion reconstruction project, and Halliburton, where Vice President Cheney
had been CEO and Lawrence Eagleburger served as a director, was selected
as a subcontractor for others that were worth more than $700 million.194
L. Paul Bremer, the former Managing Director of Kissinger Associates, was
selected by President Bush to head the new Office of Reconstruction in
Baghdad. He and Assistant Secretary of Defense Paul Wolfowitz—a key aid to
Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld—appealed to France, Russia, and
Iraq’s other major creditors to forgive all their Iraqi loans as soon as possible,
so that the country could have a fresh start.
Chapter 08 9/18/03 3:58 PM Page 364
Bertolt Brecht
ENDNOTES
NOTES TO INTRODUCTION
1. For more about the Chilean earthquake of May 22, 1960, see US Geological Survey, “Surviving a
Tsunami – Lessons From Chile, Hawaii, and Japan, Circular 1187,” Washington, DC, US Department of
the Interior, US Geological Survey, 1999.
2. For a recent global opinion poll, see The Pew Research Center, “What the World Thinks in 2002:
How Global Publics View Their Lives,Their Countries,The World, America, December 4, 2002, available
at http://people-press.org/reports/files/report165topline.pdf. See also British Broadcasting Corporation,“Global
Anger at US Growing,” December 4, 2002.
3. For a description of this anomalous “golden age” from 1947 to 1973, see Prof. E. J. Hobsbaum, The
Age of Extremes, New York,Vintage Press, 1996, pp. 6, 8, 257-286.
4. World Bank World Development Indicators, online database (2002). See also Giovanni Andrea Cor-
nia (2002), “Sources of Child Poverty Changes During the Globalization Era,” Chapter 4, Harnessing
Globalization for Children:A Report to UNICEF, pp. 5–6.Available at http://www.unicef-icdc.org/research/ESP/
globalization/chapter4.pdf.
5. For more on China’s recent development experience, see Yao and Zhang (August 2000); Shujie Yao
(2000), “Economic Development and Poverty Reduction in China Over 20 Years of Reform,” Economic
Development and Cultural Change, vol. 48, pp. 447–74 Bjorn Gustafsson and Wei Zhong, “Why Are Some
People in Rural China Poor While Others Are Not?,” International Conference on the Chinese Economy,
“Achieving Growth with Equity,”(July 2001). (www.econs.ecel.uwa.edu.au/economics/Links/papers/aces_
Gustafsson_B.pdf.)
6. World Bank Online Data,World Debt Tables; International Financial Statistics.
7. Reuters, September 4, 2002, “Earth Summit Disappoints Poor on Farm Subsidies;” Chicago Tribune,
August 27, 2002: “Third World Leaders Demand an End to US Farm Subsidies.” The Wall Street Journal
(Sept. 16, 2002, A10). See OECD comments on the May 2002 US farm bill, http://www.europa.eu.int/
comm/trade/pdf/farmbill_qa.pdf (May 2002). See http://www.europa.eu.int/comm/trade/pdf/farmbill_qa.pdf
(May 2002).
8. See http://editors.sipri.se/pubs/yb02/highlights.html. See UN Conference on Trade and Development
(UNTAD), The Least Developed Countries Report (June 2002), Statistical Appendix, Table 19. For the rich
countries’ commitments to spend .7% of GDP on official aid at the 1992 Rio Earth Summit, see The
Guardian,”The Monterrey Poverty Summit,” March 18, 2002.
9. World Bank, Online Data (2002). See also UNCTAD, supra. See Financial Times, “US to Create
Agency That Will deliver Additional Aid,” November 27, 2002, p. 2.
10. See Asian Development Bank, “Report and Recommendations of the President to the Board of
Directors on Proposed Loans to the Republic of Indonesia for Power Sector Reform,” RRP:INO 31604,
Manila: Asian Development Bank, March 1999.
11. Friedman,Thomas, The Lexus and the Olive Tree, New York: Farrar, Straus, May 2000.
12. See Paul Hare, “Trade Policy During Transition—Lessons from the 1990s,”VI World Congress for
Central and East European Studies,Tampere, Finland, July 29–August 3, 2000.
13. For the World Bank’s 1990 forecast and its 2000 revision, see World Bank Online Data, “World
Development Report, “2000/1,Washington, DC,The World Bank, 2001. For the measurement problems,
see Sanjay G. Reddy and Thomas W. Pogge (Columbia University), “How Not to Count the Poor,”
www.socialanalysis.org, June 14, 2002, passim; Reddy and Pogge,“Unknown—The Extent, Distribution, and
Trend of Global Poverty,” August 2002, www.socialanalysis.org.
14. For a typical example of numerical development goals, see www.oecd.org/dac/indicators. Also see Jan
Vandemoortele, “Are the MDGs Feasible?” July 2002, to be published as Targeting development: Critical per-
spectives on the Millennium Development Goals and International Development Targets, edited by Richard Black
and Howard White, Routledge (forthcoming).
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 366
15. For a recent summary of economic trends affecting the world’s 49 “least developed countries” that
underscores their plight, see UN Council on Trade and Development, “The Least Developed Countries
Report—Escaping the Poverty Trap,” New York, UNCTAD, June 2002. “Millennium Development
Goals,” New York, UN Development Program, September 2000; International Conference for Financing
for Development, New York/Monterrey, UN Development Program, March 2002.
16. See Shigemitsu Sugisaki, Deputy Managing Director, IMF,“Ensuring a Sustained Asian Recovery,”
Asiaweek, December 15, 2000. Data from World Bank Online, and Asian Economic Monitor, November
2002, http://www.aric.adb.org/aem/ind_oct.pdf.
17. See www.InQ7.net, June 27, 2002; August 5, 2002. See also the UNDP, “Human Development
Report,” 2002.
18. For very longrun trends in income disparaties among countries and regions, see Andre Gunder
Frank, Global Economy in the Asian Age, University of California Press, April, 1998, excerpt at
http://www.eh.net/lists/archives/eh.res/nov-1997/0052.php. See also Paul Bairoch and Maurice Levy-
Leboyer, eds., Disparities in Economic Development Since The Industrial Revolution, London: MacMillan, 1981.
19. Data on billionaires and their estimated wealth are from Forbes.com,“The World’s Billionaires,” Feb-
ruary 28, 2002. See also World Bank Online, 2002. See also Cornia (2001), op. cit.
20. See Jubilee 2000, November 2002,“ HIPC Debt Relief to 42 Countries,” http://www.jubileeresearch.
org/hipc/progress_report/tables.htm. See Anne Krueger,“A New Approach to Sovereign Debt Restructuring,”
National Economists’ Club Annual Members’ Dinner, Washington DC, November 26, 2001. http://www.
imf.org/external/np/speeches/2001/112601.htm.
21. World Bank Online Data, 2002.
22. For examples of the rather antiseptic “policy error/natural catastrophe” interpretation of the 1980s
debt crisis, see William E. Cline, International Debt: Systemic Risk and Policy Response, M.I.T., 1984; John H.
Makin, The Global Debt Crisis, Basic Books, 1984; Gordon W. Smith and John T. Cuddington, International
Debt and the Developing Countries,World Bank, 1985; and Pedro-Pablo Kucynski, Latin American Debt, Johns
Hopkins Press, 1988.
23. SIPRI (2000–02 Annual Yearbooks available at http://www.sipri.se). All estimates relied on here are
in constant l985 dollars, and are from US Arms Control and Development Agency, “World Military
Expenditures and Arms Transfers” (US State Department, various dates). Congressional Research Service
study, New York Times, August 11, 1991.
24. The BIS governor quote is from an interview with “Miami Banker #5,” December 5, 1987.
25. See John Maynard Keynes, The Economic Consequences of the Peace, New York, Harcourt, Brace, and
Howe, 1920, p. 270.
26. For the prevalence of second languages among non-Hispanic Americans, see Gallup, May 1, 2001,”
available at http://www.gallup.com/poll. For the polls about American ignorance of world geography, see
Miami Herald, “US Geographic Literacy No Better After September 11,” December 1, 2002.
ENDNOTES 367
10. Jornal do Brasil, 10.27.87, 8. Catherine Caufield, “The World Vs. The World Bank,” IDR,V. 1, N. 1,
Fall 1988, pp. 6-13. Jornal do Brasil, 5.10.87.
11. See also Ricardo Canese, La dueda ilicita de Itaipu: el mas nefasto negociado contra el Paraguay,Asunción,
Editorial Generacion, 1999; Paulo Schilling and Richardo Canese, Itaipu: Geopolítica e Corrupção, São Paulo,
CEDI, 1991. For Juan Carlos Wasmosy, see Ultima Hora, “Paraguay: ex presidente Wasmosy condenado a
4 años de cárcel,” April 12, 2002; La República en la Red, August 26, 1999: “Justicia paraguaya procesó a
Wasmosy por corrupción; The New York Times, April 16, 2002; Clarin, April 12, 2002.The August 30, 2001
account in La Nación of Wasmosy’s alleged Cayman accounts was also reported in La Prensa, September 1,
2001.
12. Tucurui’s cost estimates are from Folha do Sao Paulo, 8.2.75.
13. See the“1984 Hearings on Relatoria Saraiva, Brazilian Congress,” April-May 1984.Tucurui’s envi-
ronmental problems are described in Veja, 10.10.84, and by “SP Attorney,” Sao Paulo, 2.21.89.
14. O Estado de Sao Paulo, March 21, 1987. See also the World Commission on Dams Report, Novem-
ber 16, 2000.
15. See Normal Gall, “Blackout in Energy Policy,” Ferdinand Braudel Institute Paper #31, 2002.
http://www.braudel.org.br/paping31a.htm).
16. For the origins of the project, see Claudio Antonion Scarpinella, “Porto Primavera: O Paradigm de
Analise e Os Processor Decisao de Implantacao,” Thesis, University of Sao Paulo, December 1999, pp. 95-141,
available at www.iee.usp.br/biblioteca/producao/1999/teses/Scarpinel.pdf.
17. See Istoe, “Electric Confusion,” February 5, 2001.
18. Scarpinella, op. cit., p. 101.
19. Scarpinelli, op. cit., p. 104.
20. Istoe, “Electric Confusion,” February 5, 2001.
21. Mieceslau Kudlavicz, Pastoral Land Commission,Testimony.World Commission on Dams, Regional
Consultations on Brazil, August 1999. (Available at http://www.dams.org/kbase/consultations/latin/
abs_p5_en.htm) O Estado de Sao Paulo, May 13, 1996; Normal Gall,“Blackout in Energy Policy,” Ferdinand
Braudel Institute Paper # 31, 2002. http://www.braudel.org.br/paping31a.htm). See also the environmentalist
viewpoint, at http://www.socioambiental.org/website/noticias/english/brazil/2001-09-26-11-14AM.html
22. British Broadcasting Corporation, “Brazil’s Unsustainable Amazon scheme,” August 12, 2002.
23. Istoe’Senhor, 2.22.89.
24. Tubarao’s horrific economics were described by “Energy Expert,” London, 2.09.89.Acominas’s mis-
erable economics were described by “NY Banker #19,” 1.6.88, NYC, and the aluminum, steel, and elec-
tricity subsidies by Robert Penteado, “Eletronorte: subsidio ao aluminio trara prejuizo,” O Estado de Sao
Paulo, 4.21.87.
25. Marcelo Pinho and Maricio Ribeiro de Valle,“Changes in Profitability of the Brazilian Steel Indus-
try After Privatization—The Impact of Exogenous Events,” (Sao Paulo:USP, March 2000). http://www.
wifo.ac.at/~luger/pinho_ribeirodovalle.pdf.
26. For a detailed treatment of the gasohol project, see Barbara Nunberg,“Structural Change and State
Policy:The Politics of Sugar in Brazil Since l964,” Latin American Research Review,Vol. XXI, #2, 1986, pp.
53-93. For more about the smaller Brazilian white elephants, see Veja, 5.20.87; and 11.5.86.
27. For more details, see Parry,“Lost History: Marcos, Money, and Treason” (1996), and “October Sur-
prise: Finally, Time for The Truth,” (1997), at www.consortiumnews.com. See also Hong Kong Deposit and
Guar. Co. Ltd. v. Hibdon, 602 F. Supp. 1378, 1383 (S.D.N.Y. 1985), and Tetra Finance (HK) Ltd. v. Shaheen,
584 F.Supp. 847, 848 (S.D.N.Y. 1984).
28. Inquirer News Service (Manila), May 15, 2002 article about the Phliippines’ private purchase agree-
ments for electricity.
29. For the history of the Bataan nuclear power plant, see TG,“Philippines to Scrap Nuclear Albatross,”
Sept. 7, 1999; FEER, June 10, 1993; WISE News Communique, October 1, 1998; inQ7.net,“PPA the bitter
fruit, BNPP the rotten root,” July 22, 2002. For Enron’s two power projects at Batangas and Subic Bay in
the Philippines, and the failed IPP program in general, see Inter Press Service (1995 report on Enron power
plants in the Philippines); British Broadcasting Corporation,“Sparks Fly Over Philippine Electricity,” June
12, 2002; Philippine Center for Investigative Journalism, “Trail of Power Mess Leads to Ramos,” August 5-8,
2002.
30. For Yacyreta’s history, see “World Commission on Dams, Damming the Rivers: The World Bank’s
Lending for Large Dams,” (1994);World Bank press conference, James Wolfensohn,World Bank President,
Press Conference, April 15, 1998; “World Bank Discusses Report of Advisory Panel on Yacyreta Hydro-
electric Project,”World Bank press release, January 14, 2000; Elias Diaz Pena and Ella Stancich. No Mas Danos
en Yacyreta (2000.) See also http://www.redlisted.com/paraguay_yacyreta.html, and the case study of Yacyreta at
American University’s Trade and Environment Database, at http://www.american.edu/TED/ted.htm. See also
the IDB’s 1999 evaluation of the project:“Management’s Status Report on the Yacyreta Hydroelectric Pro-
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 368
ject (Loan 760/OC-RG), June 14, 1999. The World Bank audit is reported in UK House of Commons,
“International Development—Appendix to Minutes of the Evidence,” March 22, 2001, available at
http://www.parliament.the-stationery-office.co.uk/pa/cm200001/cmselect/cmintdev/39/39ap01.htm.
31. For an analysis of the structure, trends, and sources of growth of agricultural productivity in Peru,
see Jackeline Velazco, “Agricultural Production in Peru (1950-1995): Sources of Growth,”
www.fao.org/DOCREP/003/X9447E/x9447e08.htm.
32. For Andres Perez’s public toilet employment program, see Tyler Bridges, “Down the Toilet: Where
Did Venezuela’s Debt Go?,” Washington Monthly, December 1986.
33. Bolivia’s unusual acquisitions of C-130s was described by “Chilean Military Analyst,” Sao Paulo,
2.18.89.
34. For more about El Cajon, see http://www.csuchico.edu/anth/loker/index.htm.
35. See Witness for Peace,“A People Dammed:The World Bank-Funded Chixoy Hydroelectric Project
and its Devastating Impacts on the People and Economy of Guatemala.” (Washington, DC, May 1996). For
more gruesome details on specific actions by Guatemala’s military against Mayan villages in the central high-
lands during the early 1980s, see the UN Comisión para el Esclarecimiento Histórico (CEH), Guatemala
Memoria del Silencio. (UN, June, 1999), available at http://shr.aaas.org/guatemala/ceh/gmds_pdf/indice.pdf. See
also article on the Commissions’s report in The Washington Post, February 26,1999, and the May 3, 2000 and
June 2001 legal complaints against the military high command of former General Romeo Lucas García and
General Jose Efrain Rios Montt that were submitted by Guatemala’s Association for Justice and Reconcili-
ation to the Guatemalan Public Ministry (available at www.justiceforgenocide.org/garcia.html.)
36. From the May 3, 2000 AJR complaint against Lucas Garcia.
37. See The Rome Treaty of the International Court articulated by the UN and opened for signature
and ratification in 1998.
38. For a transcript of the conversation between Wolfensohn, Fischer and Ladner captured at the April 13
2000 day long conference on globalization at American University, see www.nisgua.org/articles/AU.html.
39. For the World Bank’s dam-oriented lending, see Leonard Sklar and Patrick McCully, “Damming
the Rivers:The World Bank’s Lending for Large Dams.” International Rivers Network Working Paper 5.
(November 1994.) The 1991 World Bank quote is from World Bank Online Data, “Project Completion
Report, Guatemala: Chixoy Hydroelectric Power Project,”Washington, DC, December 31, 1991.Wolfen-
sohn’s 1996 quote is from his June 18, 1996 letter to Paul Scire, Executive Director, Witness for Peace,
available at http://www.irn.org/programs/finance/chixoy960618.html. See also Christopher L.Bryson,
“Guatemala: A Development Dream Turns into a Repayment Nightmare.” The Christian Science Monitor,
May 1, 1987. For more about the Chixoy debacle, see The World Commission on Dams, “Chixoy Dam
Case,” at http://www.dams.org/kbase/submissions/showsub.php?rec=soc073; International Rivers Network,
“Letter to Wolfensohn,” June 28, 1996; Karyn Levy, “Life Submerged—The Environmental Impacts of
Guatemala’s Chixoy Dam,” International Rivers Network, April 2002, available at http://www.irn.org/
programs/latamerica/index.html. For the Woodrow Wilson report, see The Working Group on Multilateral
Institutional Accountabiity, Graduate Policy Workshop, Woodrow Wilson School, “The Chixoy Dam
and the Massacres at Río Negro, Agua Fria, and Los Encuentros,” Princeton, 2000, available at www.
advocacynet.org.The $350 million to $500 million estimate from losses due to corruption is from Cronica,
“Las Miserias de Chixoy no Son Solamente de los Guatemaltecos,” May 4, 1990. See also www.irn.org,
Press Release, August 2, 1999. The Bolanos quote is from Witness for Peace, “A People Dammed: The
World Bank-Funded Chixoy Hydroelectric Project and its Devastating Impacts on the People and Econ-
omy of Guatemala.” (Washington, DC, May 1996). See also Fundación de Antropología Forense de
Guatemala, “Las masacres de Rabinal. (1997); Inter-American Development Bank. “Guatemala: Project
Report. Additional Funding for the Pueblo Viejo-Quixal Hydroelectric Project on the Chixoy River,”
September 1985.The original 1974 cost estimate of $270 million is from Witness for Peace, op. cit., citing
an unpublished study by Matthew E. Davidson (1987).The original cost Consorcio Lami.“Proyecto Hidro-
electrico Pueblo Viejo-Quixal: Informacion Sobre el Proyecto,” (December 1982).The IDB’s 1975 cost estimate
was $341 million, and may be found in “Chixoy: Obra de Infrastructura sin Precedentes en Guatemala.”
Inforpress Centroamericana, No. 176. (January 22, 1976). For the Chulac dam, see M. Davidson (unpub-
lished m.s.),“Hydro Frustration in Guatemala,” Guatemala City, June 18, 1987; Cornerhouse (2002),“The
Record of Twelve European Dam Companies,” op. cit.
40. See World Bank Online Data (2002). See also World News Service, “Facts on File—Mobutu, May
22, 1997.” For a more detailed description of Mobutu’s career as a kleptocrat, client of leading Western
intelligence agencies, and brutal dictator, see Michela Wrong, In the Footsteps of Mr. Kurtz: Living on the Brink
of Disaster in Mobutu’s Congo, London, Fourth Estate Ltd., 2000.
41. See British Broadcasting Corporation, “Nigerian Road Trip: Abuja,” December 21, 2001.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 369
ENDNOTES 369
42. See www.freeafrica.org/looting3.html, p. 5.The quotation is from Mr. Achim Katz, EC Commissioner
to Kenya, Report to the EC, March 1986, reported in Index on Censorship, August 1990, p. 19. See also
Financial Times, November. 27, 1991, and www.freeafrica.org/looting3.html, pp. 5-7. For more on the Turkwell
Gorge Dam saga, see Patrick McCully, Silenced Rivers:The Ecology and Politics of Large Dams, London: Zed
Books, 1996; Financial Times,“Mr. Biwott the Businessman:A Look at the Former Kenyan Minister’s Road
to Riches,” November 27, 1991.
43. For reports of the scandal, and the Kenyan press’ reaction to them, see UK House of Parliament,
March 22, 2001, Committee on International Development ( ) Appendix 1: Recent Cases of Corruption
Involving UK Companies and UK-Backed International Financial Institutions,Turkwell, Kenya; available at
http://www.parliament.the-stationery-office.co.uk/pa/cm200001/cmselect/cmintdev/39/39ap06.htm; Patrick
McCully, Silenced Rivers-The Ecology and Politics of Large Dams, London: Zed Books, 1996, p. 262. For the aid
freeze to Kenya, see People’s Daily,“No Major Progress on Aid Talks Between WB, IMF Chiefs, Kenyan Pres-
ident,” February 26, 2001; British Broadcasting Corporation,”New Brooms for Graft-Ridden Kenya,”
December 29, 2002.
44. See Smith Hempstone, Rogue Ambassador.: An African Memoir, University of the South Press, 1997;
British Broadcasting Corporation, “Moi sues ex-US Ambassador,” July 31, 2001. For more on the Ouko
case see Africa Today, September 2001.
45. Financial Times, November 27, 1991.
46. British Broadcasting Corporation, “Moi sues ex-US Ambassador,” July 31, 2001.
47. See note 46 above.
48. The New York Times, October 21, 1991.
49. For the “list of shame,” see British Broadcasting Corporation, May 10, 2000, CNN, July 19, 2000;
Boston Globe, July 17, 2000. The Citibank tale about Nicholas Biwott is reported in The New York Times,
October 21, 1991.
50. For a discussion of these effects, see Korinna Horta, “Making the Earth Rumble—The Lesotho-
South African Water Connection,” Multinational Monitor, May 1996 Vol 17, No. 5, available at http://www.
irn.org/programs/lesotho/mm0596.05.html.
51. James Wolfensohn,Address, 1996 Annual World Bank Meetings,Washington, DC, October 1996. See
the US Foreign Corrupt Practices Act of 1977 (“FCPA”), 15 USC §§ 78dd-1, et seq. For the World Bank’s
anti-corruption guidelines, see its 1996 Guidelines for Procurement Under IBRD Loans and IDA Cred-
its, Sections 1.15.“Fraud and Corruption,” and its 1997 Guidelines for Selection and Employment of Con-
sultants, Section 1.25. “Fraud and Corruption.” See also Shang-Jin Wei, Harvard University and NBER,
“How Taxing is Corruption on International Investors,” Eighth International Anti-Corruption Confer-
ence, Lima, Peru. (September 1997) available at http://www.transparency.org/iacc/8th_iacc/papers/jinwei.html.
52. La Prensa,“Dos sociedades panameñas están relacionadas en uno de los escándalos más importantes
de soborno,” July 9, 2000; The Guardian,“Blacklisting threat to UK firm in dam cash scandal,” July 6, 2002.
53. See British Broadcasting Corporation, “Corporate Bribery Verdict in Lesotho,” May 20, 2002.
54. See British Broadcasting Corporation, “Bribery firm protests its innocence,” October 29, 2002;
ENS, “Canadian Firm Paid Bribes to Win Lesotho Dam Job,” September 18, 2002.
55. Lesothol’s Attorney General Fine Maema, quoted in Karen McGregor, “Lesotho’s—a small country
is showing big heart in combating corruption,” Business Ethics Direct, Fall 2002. Available at www.ethicsa.org.
56. See Folha do Sao Paulo, Interview with ABB CEO Goran Lindahl,August 22, 1999. For more about
the Lesotho Highlands Water Project story, see Korinna Horta,“Making the Earth Rumble—The Lesotho-
South African Water Connection,” Multinational Monitor, May 1996 Vol 17, No. 5, available at
http://www.irn.org/programs/lesotho/mm0596.05.html.; The Cornerhouse, “The Record of Twelve European
Dam Building Companies,” Stockholm: The Swedish Society for Nature Conservation, February 2000,
available at http://www.ern.org/general/dams/dams_inc.zip; Environmental News Service, “Canadian Firm
Paid Bribes to Win Lesotho Dam Job,” September 18, 2002; La Prensa,“Dos sociedades panameñas están rela-
cionadas en uno de los escándalos más importantes de soborno,” July 9, 2000.The details regarding company pay-
offs are from David Grebe, Business Day,“Official Faces charge over R12 million bribe,” July 29, 1999; BD,
“Corrupt Firms Face Blacklist,” July 30,1999; The Washington Post, “Big Firms Accused of Bribery in
African Dam Project,” August 13, 1999.The allegations of corruption against Balfour Beatty are reported
in International Rivers Network, “The Lesotho Highland Water Development Project. Part II—What
Went Wrong,” presentation to Chatham House, July 10, 2000. available at http://www.irn.org/programs/
lesotho/index.asp?id=/programs/lesotho/chatham.01.html.
57. The US Bureau of Reclamation official quote is from an interview reported by Probe Interna-
tional’s Patricia Adams, September 23, 1993. in Margaret Barber and G. Ryder, editors, Daming the Three
Gorges—What Dam Builders Don’t Want You to Know,Toronto, Probe International, 1993.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 370
58. See International Rivers Network,“Citizens Guide to the World Commission on Dams,” Berkeley:
2002, p. 32.
59. See World Bank Online Data (2003), “Statistics on the World Bank’s Dam Portfolio,” available at
www.worldbank.org.
60. See the organization sponsored by George Soros and 40 NGOs that proposes precisely this:
www.publishwhatyoupay.org.
61. See Philip Gray, “Private Participation in Infrastructure: A Review of the Evidence,” Kennedy
School MS, October 2001.
62. See Vasquez, op. cit.
63. For more about EXIM’s loans to Halliburton and the SEC investigation, see Los Angeles Times,“State
Department Eases Deals for Halliburton,” October 27, 2000; British Broadcasting Corporation, “Cheney
accused of corporate fraud,” July 10, 2002.
64. See US EXIM Bank, “EXIM’s Role in Greenhouse Gas Emissions and Climate Change,” August,
1999.
65. For more data about lending by export credit agencies, see www.eca-watch.org.
ENDNOTES 371
Levin, The Last Deposit: Swiss Banks and Holocaust Victims’ Accounts, New York, Praeger, 1999. See Jacobi’s
website, www.marcosbillions.com.
18. See “PCGG’s Swiss lawyer has brod in bank with Irene,” www.Philstar.com, September 12, 2002;
Curtiss Waters, “I Never Met with Aranetas,” Inquirer News Daily, March 19, 2001.
19. See The Philippines Daily Inquirer, “Irene Araneta Swiss Deposits Feared Gone,” July 9, 2001.
20. For Imelda’s statements regarding her wealth, see The Philippines Daily Inquirer, “Interviews with
Imelda Marcos,” December 5-9, 1998.
21. See endnote 3 above.
22. The Yamashita story was revived by Sterling Seagrave in The Marcos Dynasty, NewYork, Harper &
Row, 1988, pp. 351-352. See “Yamashita Treasure a Myth,” The Philippines Daily Inquirer, April 17, 1989, p.
8.
23. For more details on the sources and extent of the Marcos’s criminal wealth, see the 100 page RICO
action that was filed against them in California in 1989: Republic of the Philippines vs. Ferdinand E. Mar-
cos, Imelda R. Marcos, et al. (US District Court, Central District of California, Case No. CV 86-3859-MRP
(Gx), 1986), and The Central Bank of the Philippines v. Ferdinand E. Marcos, et al,(US District Court for
the District of Hawaii, Case No. 86-0213, 1986). See also the Special Committee on Public Accountability,
Report on the Inquiry on Operation Big Bird, Philippines House of Representatives (1991);W. Scott Mal-
one (1987),“Ferdinand E. Marcos:A Trail of Corruption,” Investigative Report for PBS (1987); J. Crewson,
“Marcos Graft Staggering,” Chicago Tribune, March 23, 1986; Ricardo Manapat, Some Are Smarter Than Oth-
ers:The History of Marcos’s Crony Capitalism, New York: Aletheia, 1991, Chapter 1.
24. For a report on the geological survey of the Philippines, see Financial Times, March 21, 1989.
25. Interview with Ms. Margaret Beplat, March 28, 1989;Tris Beplat, March 30, 1989.
26. Barrington Moore Jr. Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy, Boston: Beacon Press, 1966, pg. v.
The “Initial Post-Surrender Policy” is described in Robert E. Ward, Japan’s Political System, Englewood
Cliffs, NJ, Prentice-Hall, 1967, pp. 7-21.
27. Calculated from Kazushi Ohkawa and Henry Rosovsky, Japanese Economic Growth:Trend Acceleration
in the Twentieth Century, London: Stanford University Press, l973, Appendix.
28. Alfred Maizels, Industrial Growth and World Trade, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1963.
29. Yoshio Suzuki, Money and Banking in Contemporary Japan, New Haven,Yale University Press, 1980,
p. 9.
30. Interview with Tris Beplat, March 30, 1989.
31. For more on the evolution of MacArthur’s policies in light of Cold War politics, see Walter Lafeber,
America, Russia, and The Cold War, 1945-46, New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1967, Chapters 2-3.
32. Tristan E. Belplat, quoted in Norman Gall, “US and the World Economy—Dinheiro, Ganacia, e
tecnologia, Part 2—Japan, Russia, Brazil,” Braudel Papers, No. 21, 1998.
33. See Ladejinsky’s article “The Plow Outbids the Sword in Asia: How General MacArthur Stole
Communist Thunder with Democratic Land Reforms, Our Most Potent Weapon for Peace,” Farm Journal,
June 1951. See also Louis J.Walinsky, ed., Agrarian Reform as Unfinished Business:The Selected Papers of Wolf
Ladejinsky, New York, published for the World Bank by Oxford University Press, 1977.William Manches-
ter, American Caesar: Douglas MacArthur, 1880-1964, Boston, Little, Brown, 1978, pp. 506, 508.
34. For more background, see Putzel (1992), op. cit., Chapter 3.
35. See Putzel (1992), op. cit.; Bellow and de Guzman, op. cit.
36. This quote from Wolf Ladejinsky is from Reforma Agraria, http://www.fppm.org/2001-reforma%20
agraria.htm.
37. See the case for a “trend acceleration” in Japan’s GNP growth rate after World War II in Kazushi
Ohkawa and Henry Rosovsky, Japanese Economic Growth:Trend Acceleration in the Twentieth Century, London,
Stanford Univeristy Press, l973.
38. See Bank of Japan, Quarterly Bullet: Japan’s Non-Performing Loan Problem, November 2002. See
“Japan’s Banks Get Another Mr. Fix-It,” Business Week, October 14, 2002.
39. After l946, Japan’s capital account with the rest of the world was consistently positive—reflecting
its current account surpluses. See Ohkawa and Rosovsky, op. cit.,Table 11, p. 302.
40. Interview with the author, Margaret Beplat, March 28, 1989.
41. Stanley Karnow, America’s Empire in the Philippines, New York: Random House, 1989, pp. 326-28;
346-54; 362-63.
42. See Michael McClintock, Instruments of Statecraft: US Guerilla Warfare, Counterinsurgency, Counterter-
rorism, 1940-1990, New York, Pantheon, 1992, pp. 83-85.
43. See Victor Nebrida, “The Balangiga Massacre: Getting Even,” available at the Philippines History
Group of L.A., http://www.bibingka.com/phg/menu.htm.
44. Jose David Lapuz, Philippine political scientist, quoted in Asiaweek, June 6, 1998.
45. For the US inteventions in these postwar Philippines elections, McClintock, op. cit., pp. 82-138,
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 372
46. For more about the Bell Act’s provisions, see Karnow, op. cit., pp. 260, 325-27. See also Cheryl Payer,
The Debt Trap. (New York: Monthly Review, 1974), pp. 50-54. See also Alan Berlow,“The Independence Day
That Wasn’t,” NPR, July 4, 1996, transcript available at http://www.bibingka.com/phg/misc/july4not.htm.
47. See “Ladejinsky Firing Protested,” 104:35,398, December 24, 1954, p. 12, Letter. See Ladejinsky,
“Land Reform in Indonesia,” 1964.
48. Tris Beplat, March 30, 1989.
49. See endnote 48 above.
50. “NY Banker #7,” December 22–23, 1988, NYC; “NY Banker #13,” NYC, 1.17.89. Euromoney,
“The Philippines—A Survey,” Supplement. April 1982, p. 25.
51. “London Banker #5,” 1.26.89.
52. Severina Rivera, PCCG counsel, 4.1.89.
53. Margaret Beplat, 3.28.89. Severina Rivera, PCCG counsel, 4.1.89.
54. “NY Banker #1,” 4. 10-21.86; Severina Rivera, 4.1.89.
55. See Asian Development Bank, Key Indicators of Developing Member Countries, Manila: Asian Devel-
opment Bank, 1989.
56. World Bank, The Philippines: A Review of External Debt, Report No. 4912-PH, Washington, DC,
1984, p. 42.
57. Euromoney, April 1984.
58. Quoted in Robert Shaplen, “The Philippines, Part II,” New Yorker, September 1986, p. 61.
59. Rundt’s Weekly, January 31, 1983.
60. See description of the Binondo Central Bank in Aurora Javate-De Dios, et al, Dictatorship and Rev-
olution: Roots of People’s Power, Manila, Conspectus Foundation, 1988, pp. 111-115.
61. Fox Butterfield, New York Times, January 14, 1978. For the “powder keg,” see the New York Times
story by this title, September 24, 1979.
62. The Wall Street Journal, January 5, 1981.
63. According to the World Bank, private foreign creditors arranged commitments in l982 totaling
$1.073 billion, compared with $1.039 billion in l981, the previous record year. Euromoney, April 1984. See
also Rundts’Weekly, January 31, 1983; Manila Chronicle, November 4, 1986, p. 5.
64. “NY Banker # 17,” January 25, 1989.
65. “NY Banker #15,” 1.18.89. The Advisory Committee’s Economic Subcommittee that made the
visit was chaired by Gordon Nelson of Morgan, and included Sacho Kojima of Bank of Tokyo and William
Nedereider of Dresdner Bank.
66. “NY Banker # 17,” January 25, 1989; The Wall Street Journal, December 19, 1983.
67. “NY Banker #15,” NYC, January 18, 1989.
68. Euromoney, April, 1984, p. 50.
69. For more details on all these gold flights, see W. Scott Malone, “Ferdinand E. Marcos—A Trail of
Corruption,” unpublished notes for PBH-Frontline, 1987.
70. Philippine Central Bank Review, “Clearing the Doubts,” May 1986.
71. For more details on all these gold flights, see W. Scott Malone, “Ferdinand E. Marcos—A Trail of
Corruption,” unpublished notes for PBH-Frontline, 1987.
72. The KLM Cargo Air Waybill, #074-9184-8212, Central Bank Review, op cit.
73. W. Scott Malone, “The Golden Fleece,” in Regardie’s Magazine, October 1988, pp. 116–140, 121.
74. Malone, op cit., pp. 129–130.
75. Interview with Richard Hirschfield, 2.6.89. See also Hirschfield’s account in Malone, op. cit., p. 137.
76. Marcos’s Washington law firm was Anderson Hibey. Richard Hirschfield, 2.6.89. “NY Banker
#17,” January 25, 1989.
77. “NY Banker #7,” January 19, 1989; December 22–23, 1988.
78. Dimitri Belatsos, 1.17.89 “NY Banker #14, January 17, 1989, January 18, 1989;“NY Banker #18,”
January 25, 1989.
79. “NY Banker #18,” January 25, 1989.
80. Business Day’s Annual Corporate Profiles and Yoshihara Kunio, Philippine Industrialization: Foreign
and Domestic Capital, New York, Oxford University Press, 1985.
81. Lucy Komisar, Corazon Aquino, New York, George Braziller, 1988, p. 127.
82. Interview with the author, Walter W. Wriston, February 19, 1988. Other observers are much less
sure about Marcos’s war record. See Stanley Karnow, op. cit.
83. Interview with the author, Fox Butterfield, March 31, 1988.
84. Fox Butterfield, March 31, 1988. EXIM Bank Credit # 6122, Philippine Nuclear Power Station
#1, “Summary of Direct Loans,” US Export-Import Bank, January 26, 1976. New York Times, January 14,
1978; Gary Southern, former MHT project financing, January 26, 1989;Tony Constant, former MHT Ltd,
January 26, 1989.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 373
ENDNOTES 373
85. “NY Banker #14,” January 18, 1989; Professor James Boyce, February 3, 1989.
86. Asia Banking, September 1986.
87. This included the debts assumed for PDCP. See endnote 86 above.
88. Malone, Memo # 3, op. cit., p. 30.
89. Sandra Burton, Impossible Dream:The Marcoses,The Aquinos, and the Unfinished Revolution, New York,
Warner Books, 1989, p. 124.
90. Manila Times, March 30, 1986; February 13, 1985; Business Day, March 24, 1986; Professor James
Boyce, University of Massachusetts at Amherst, March 28, 1989.
91. Boyce, op. cit., quoting a January 1989 interview with Cesar Virata.
92. David L. Pflug, MHT, 1.24.89.
93. Cesar Virata,“Testimony,” Congress of the Philippines, Committee on Ways and Means, August 17,
1987.
94. See Rosendo D. Bondoc, former head of Philex,“Testimony,” Philippine National Assembly, Sub-
committee on Monetary, Credit and Financial Matters, October 2, 1987, pp.VII-2.
95. Malone, Memo # 3, op. cit.
96. The World Bank, Philippines:Toward Sustaining the Economic Recovery. Country Economic Memorandum
Report No. 7438-PH, Washington, DC, January 30, 1989; and Asian Development Bank, Key Indicators of
Developing Member Countries, Manila, ADB, July 1988.
97. Source:World Bank (WDI Online data), 2003.
98. See “Philippine Population Trends,” US Department of Commerce, Bureau of the Census, Febru-
ary 1996.
99. World Bank, op. cit., 1.
100. See “Taxing Their Patience,” Time International, February 26, 1996.
101. See Inquirer News Service, “Government Lost P242 Billion Yearly Due to Tax Evasion,” November
21, 2001. For more about the scale of tax evasion in the Philippines, see “Filipino Taxpayers and Tax
Evaders,” www.inqy.net, December 7, 2002; Dave L. Llorito, The Manila Times, “Bad Timing for Imple-
menting Tax Reforms,” December 3, 2002; The Manila Times,“More Tax Incentives Mean More Losses for
RP,” December 4, 2002; “RP Seen as Haven for Tax Evaders,” Inquirer News Service, March 30, 2001. For
the Marcos’s tax arrears, see “It’s War,” The Economist, October 3, 2002.
102. For the Marcos’s tax arrears, see “It’s War,” The Economist, October 3, 2002.
103. World Bank, Country Report on the Philippines, January, 1989, op. cit., pp. 45–46.
104. For Buenaventura’s biogrpahy, see http://www.pdic.gov.ph/board%20of%20directors/rbuenaventura.asp.
105. For Jose I. Camacho’s biography, see http://www.op.gov.ph/profiles_camacho.asp.
106. Interview with Dr. James Putzel, Manila, April 22, 1989. See also Dr Putzel’s superb book: A Cap-
tive Land:The Politics of Agrarian Reform in the Philippines, London, Catholic Institute for International Rela-
tions; New York, Monthly Review Press, 1992.
107. For an early version of the World Bank’s “market-oriented” agrarian reform policy, see World Bank
Online Data, Policy “Paper on Land Reform,”Washington, DC,World Bank, 1975.
108. Figures on the Aquino land reform are from Saturnino M. Borras Jr. “Stuck in the Mud: CARP
in Its 14th Year,” Institute for Popular Democracy, “Political Briefs,” May 2002, available at
http://www.ipd.ph/pub/polbrief/2002/may/carp14.shtml#4. See also the excellent biography of Aquino by
Lucy Komisar, Corazon Aquino:The Story of a Revolution, New York, George Braziller, 1987–88, pp. 181.
109. See Philippines National Statistical Office, Annual Poverty Indicators Survey (1998), at
http://www.census.gov.ph/data.
110. Estimates by Zen Soriano, Amihan, a national federation of women peasant groups, quoted in
Philippine Tribune, June 16, 1998.
111. See Philippines National Statistical Office, Annual Poverty Indicators Survey (July 2002), available at
http://www.census.gov.ph/data/pressrelease/2003/ap0207ptx.html, released January 8, 2003. For more details
about the the relative performance of the Aquino, Ramos, Estrada, and Macagapal—Arroyo administra-
tions with respect to land reform, see Saturnino M. Borras Jr.“Stuck in the Mud: CARP in Its 14th Year,”
Institute for Popular Democracy, Political Briefs, May 2002, available at http://www.ipd.ph/pub/
polbrief/2002/may/carp14.shtml#4.
112. For a useful introduction to the “revisionist” literature on land reform, see Dr. James Putzel,“Land
Reforms in Asia: Lessons From the Past for the 21st Century,” LSE Development Studies Institute,Work-
ing Papers Series No. 00-04, January 2000.
113. World Bank, op. cit., p. 98.
114. Asian Development Bank,“Report and Recommendations of the President to the Board of Direc-
tors on Proposed Loan and Technical Assistance to the Republic of the Philippines for a Forestry Sector
Program,” Manila, ADB, May, 1988, unpublished.
115. See ADB, Plan for the Philippines, 1989, Manila, ADB, 1989, ii.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 374
116. See Donna S. Cueto, “Probe Sought on Mysterius P2B Imelda Marcos Settlement,” Inquirer News
Servcice, November 9, 2002;“Levy Celerio’s songs fail to console Imelda,” Inquirer News Service, November
18, 2002.
117. See Final Judgment, Celsa Hilao, et al., v. Estate of Ferdinand E. Marcos, US District Court
(Hawaii), MDL No. 840, C.A. No. 86-0390 (1995). For the Duke estate case, see The Philippines Daily
Inquirer,“Doris Duke Estate Sues Imelda Marcos,” March 5, 2000. For the Hawaii lawsuit, and the contin-
uing stalemate over it, see “Marcos Renege on Word to Pay HR Victims,” www.philstar.com, October 4,
2001; www.inquirer.net, October 26, 2000.
118. See The Manila Times, “Peace Process in Limbo,” August 13, 2002. See VOA News, January
17,2003. See Associated Press, June 22, 2002.
119. See Inquirer News Service, “Foreign Debt Rises by $4B,” September 20, 2002.
120. These conclusions are based on estimates for spending on debt service, health care, and primary
and secondary education are from WB (WDI online database), 2003.
121. See http://www.panasia.org.sg/mimapph/v830901c.htm.
122. See http://www.da.gov.ph/NNC/summary.html.
123. See Rand Corporation,“The US and Asia:Toward a New US Strategy and Force Structure,” Santa
Monica, Rand Corporation, May 2001.
124. British Broadcasting Corporation, “US Troops Land in South Philippines,” December 14, 2001;
Associated Press, June 18-22, 2002.
125. See Madge Kho (Jolo, Philippines), “Jolo—Chronology of the Moro Resistance (2003)” available
at http://www.waltokon.com/Jolo16.html.
ENDNOTES 375
54. See Nancy San Martin and Carol Rosenberg, “Cash-Poor Spy Chief Sent E-Mail Threats,” Miami
Herals, June 28, 2001.
55. “Vladimiro Montesinos fue capturado en Venezuela,” Agenciaperu, June 24, 2001; British Broadcasting
Corporation, “Chavez Outraged Over Montesinos Grab,” British Broadcasting Corporation, “Venezuela
‘did not shelter’ Montesinos,” July 17, 2001;“Peru’s Fugitive Ex-Spy Shief Taken to Air Base,” CNN, June
24, 2001; British Broadcasting Corporation, “How Montesinos Was Betrayed,” June 26, 2001, Andres
Oppenheimer,“Go-Between Was Arrested in Miami, Peruvian Special Prosecutor Says,” Miami Herald, June
26, 2001.
56. For the CIA’s aid to Montesinos, see Angel Paez,“CIA Gave $10 Million to Peru’s Ex-Spymaster,”
The Public I, Center for Public Integrity, July 3, 2001, available at http://www.alternet.org/story.html?
StoryID=11131.
57. The Chavez quote is from CNN, “Venezuela’s president Says National Assembly Will Have Broad
Powers: Opposition Fears Breakdown in the Rule of Law,” July 25, 1999.
58. For Chavez’ analysis of PDVSA’s diversions, see Hugo Chavez Frias, The Fascist Coup Against
Venezuela, Havana, 2003.
59. See Chavez’s Bolivar 2000 Plan.
60. US Energy Information Administration (2003), available at http://www.eia.doe.gov/emeu/international/
prices.html#Crude.
61. See “OPEC Secretary General Calls on Russia and Norway Not to Increase Oil Exports,” Pravda,
June 6, 2002.
62. See Philip T. Reeker, Deputy Spokesman, US State Department, “Press Statement: Venezuela:
Change of Government,” April 12, 2002, available at http://www.state.gov/r/pa/prs/ps/2002/9316.htm.
63. White House spokesperson Ari Fleischer, quoted in “Coup D’etat in Venezuela,” www.terra.com,April
12, 2002.
64. See Katherine Hoyt, “Concerns Over Possible AFL-CIO Involvement in Venezuela Coup Led to
February Picket,” Labor Notes, May 20, 2002, available at http://www.labornotes.org/archives/2002/05/b.html.
See Christian Marquix, “Washington Channeled Funds to Groups That Opposed Chavez,” New York Times,
April 26, 2002.
65. See “Venezuelan Coup Plotter ‘in Miami,’” The Times,April 24, 2002. See Edición Imprensa (Chile),
“El desconocido empresario que organizó el golpe contra Chávez,” April 18, 2002. See “Venezuelans Linked to
Coup Attempt Said to be in Miami,” Miami Herald, April 26, 2002.
66. New York Times, April 13, 2002, late edition, p. A16, column 1, editorial desk “Hugo Chávez
Departs.”
67. Teodoro Petkoff, journalist and political commentator, quoted in Chris Harman,“Venezuela:Work-
ers Organize to Halt Right Wing Coup,” Socialist Worker, December 21, 2002, available at http://www.
socialistworker.co.uk/1831/IX.HTM.
68. “Venezuela closes foreign exchange market,” The Guardian, January 23, 2003.
69. For some of the many corruption charges that have been made against Chavez’ administration, see
“La corrupción en tiempo de Chavez,” available at http://es.geocities.com/malversacion. See also www.Militares
Democraticos.com.
ENDNOTES 377
9. Rendezvous with Destiny: 1932-41, “Portrait of an American: Stockbroker Richard Whitney,” pp.
145–47. See also Louis Auchincloss, The Embezzle.
10. William Hayes, former Bankers Trust loan officer in Brazil, January 1988.
11. See the sympathetic reactions to Gebauer’s indictment by Carlos Eduardo de Freitas, Director of
the Foreign Area for Brasil’s Central Bank, and Carlos Langoni, former Central Bank President, in Veja,
May 28, 1986, p. 85.
12. Government’s Sentencing Memorandum, US v. Gebauer, (86 Crim. 884), January 30, 1987.
13. Fernandina Gebauer, May 7, 1987; “Senior Morgan Banker,” April 21, 1988.
14. “Senior Morgan Banker,” April 21, 1988.
15. Heinze Vithzthun, former Morgan banker, September 14, 1989.
16. “Senior Morgan Banker,” April 21, 1988.
17. Robert Blocker, Chase’s Banco Lar Brasileira, February 25, 1987.Alexandre Vagliano, head of Mor-
gan’s International Banking Division from 1976 to August 1981, March 18, 1987. Heinz Vithzthun, Sep-
tember 14, 1989.
18. See The Economist, September 2, 1972, p. 36. “Construction Executive, “Rio de Janeiro, June 10,
1987; February 14, 1989. BNDES quickly became the world’s third largest development bank, after the
World Bank and the IDB. As of l962, a study of Brasilian industry showed that more than half of capital
belonged to foreign investors. See Revista do Instituto de Ciências Sociais, Rio, January–December 1965. For
Kubitschek’s motivations for building Brasilia, see Jose William Vesentini, A Capital Da Geopolitica, Sao
Paulo, Editora Atica, 1986, p. 101.
19. Thomas E. Skidmore, Politics in Brasil, 1930-64, New York, Oxford University Press, 1967, p. 194.
20. For more about the 1964 coup, see Jan Knippers Black, United States Penetration of Brazil, Philadel-
phia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 1977; William Blum, Brazil 1961-64, in Killing Hope: US Military
and CIA Interventions Since World War II, Maine, Common Courage Press, 1995.
21. For the coup, see Rene Armand Dreifuss, 1964:A Conquista Do Estado, Sao Paulo,Vozes, 1981. See
also Jan Knippers Black, United States Penetration of Brasil, Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press,
1977, p. 78 (Rockefeller quote); and Phyllis R. Parker, Brasil and the Quite Revolution, 1964, Austin,Texas,
University of Texas Press, 1974, p. 11 (early warnings).
22. Moura, Rio, February 1987. For the carrier task force, see Parker, op. cit., pp. 75–76.
23. República Federativa do Brasil, Assembléia Nacional Constituinte—l987, Brasilia, l987, p. 197.
24. See Campos’s Plan of Economic Action of the Government, 1964. For a critical study see J. Car-
los de Assis, A Chave Do Tesouro, Sao Paulo, Editora Paz e Terra, 1984.
25. Thomas E. Skidmore, Brasil de Castelo a Tancredo, Rio, Editora Paz e Terra, 1988, 85.
26. Black, op. cit., p. 61.
27. Black, op. cit., p. 266, citing Ronald A. Krieger, Brasil:An Economic Survey by First National City Bank,
March 1971.
28. See the objectives for the Alliance for Progress described at Punta del Este,August 1961, in Parker,
op. cit.
29. Gary S. Hartshorn,“Daniel K. Ludwig’s Amazing Gamble,” Institute of Current World Affairs, Sep-
tember 1979, in Jordan M.Young, Brasil: Emerging World Power, Malabar, Florida, Robert E. Krieger Pub-
lishing Co., 1982, pp. 137–39.
30. Skidmore, op. cit., p. 141. See Werner Baer and Mario Henrique Simonsen,“American Capital and
Brasilian Nationalism,” The Yale Review,Vol. LIII, No. 2, Winter 1964. See the attack on Campos in the
right-wing journal A Tribuna, 6.14.66, p. 11. Mariza Tupinamba, Eu Fui Testemunha, Sao Paulo,Vozes, 1983,
p. 13. Skidmore, op. cit., p. 89. (US AID workers). See also Black, op. cit., pp. 62–63.
31. IMF, International Financial Statistics (l989).
32. See Robert A. Hutchinson, Vesco,Washington, DC, Praeger, l974, p. 70.
33. Archidiocese of Sao Paulo, Torture in Brasil, New York, Random House, 1986.
34. Source: copy of the Robert Campos diary in the author’s possession.
35. Campos diary, op. cit.
36. For more details about Globo’s deal with Time Life, see Daniel Herz, The Secret Life of Rede Globo,
Brazil, 1989; Bill Hinchberger, “Brazil’s Media Monopoly, http://multinationalmonitor.org/hyper/
issues/1991/01/mm0191_12.html.
37. See James Brooke, “Looting Brazil,” New York Times Sunday Magazine, Novemer 8, 1992.
38. See Forbes.com, for the annual billionaire rankings.
39. Antonio Delfim Neto’s biographical sketch in República Federativa do Brasil, Assembléia Nacional
Constituinte—l987, Brasilia, l987, p. 197. See 1972 Who’s Who in Brasil, Sao Paulo:Who’s Who Ltd., 1972,
p. xxv; Nicholson, op. cit.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 378
ENDNOTES 379
72. Ruth Almeida Prado, friend of Borio’s, Rio, July 13, 1987. Veja, November 4, 1971. Manchete,
October 21, 1972. Almeida Deposition, GSO, op. cit., Appendix;“Construction Official,” Sao Paulo, Febru-
ary 1989.
73. Leonidas Borio, February 24, 1989.
74. The Parana loan estimates are from my Diârio Oficial data base.
75. Diârio Oficial data base.
76. Heinz Vithzthun, September 1989. GSO, op. cit.; Gebauer, February 20, 1987; Brasilian Playboy
December 1986; O Estada de Sao Paulo, December 21, 1986.
77. Veja, November 4, 1971–December 1, 1971.
78. Leonidas Borio, February 24, 1989.
79. Diârio Oficial data base.
80. Walter Cerqueira, Gebauer’s Bahian farm manager, Salvador, July 1987.
81. O Estada de Sao Paulo, October 6, 1978; Folha do Sao Paulo, September 26, 1978; Movimento, Novem-
ber 20, 1978. Mario Enrique Simonsen, Fundaçao Getulio Vargas, Rio de Janeiro, February 14, 1989.
82. Diârio Oficial data base.
83. Morgan’s loans to Investbanco, of which Campos was President, were as follows: 9.70: $500,000;
5.71-8.71: $650,000.Two other loans totaling $400,000 also went to Banco Irmão Guimaraes in l972, part
of the conglomerate run by Campos, and $700,000 went to Univest, which bought Banco Irmão in l971.
Two other loans to Campos-related companies went to Supergel S.A., registered in 7.71 ($400,000) and
10.71 ($400,000). Diârio Oficial data base. Supergel S.A. and Investbanco both went bankrupt in the l970s.
Mariza Tupinamba, Eu Fui Testemunha. (Sao Paulo:Vozes, 1983), p. 13.
84. Severo Gomes’ company was Tecelagem Parahyba S.A.The Morgan loan, $650,000, was registered
in 7.71. Diârio Oficial data base.
85. Diârio Oficial data base. Movimento, November 20, 1978.
86. Diârio Oficial data base. J. Carloss de Assis, Os Mandarins da República, Sao Paulo, Paz e Terra, 1984.
87. Diârio Oficial data base.
88. Keith McDermott, 9.6.89.
89. The gasohol financing was a case of “disguised balance of payments financing” that “stayed in the
market until mid-April 1980.” Robert Barbour, former Morgan banker, 1.6.88.
90. Tony’s multinational projects included a petroleum project for National Distillers in southern Brasil,
Siemens’ sales of electrical equipment, Boeing’s sales of 747s to Varig, and General Motor’s $1.5 billion
expansion. Charles Sheehan, GE, 3.87; D. Mediale, former Treasurer of General Motors, March 1987. Mor-
gan loaned to MNC subsidiaries or by way of equipment importers with EX-IM guarantees. For example,
Morgan provided EX-IM-guaranteed loans of $212 million to Centrais Elétricas (CESP), the electric util-
ity in Sao Paulo, $42.5 million to Petrobras, and $25 million to Companhia Siderurgica Paulista. Morgan
Presentation to GE Trading Company, October 1982. (Unpublished file copy in my possession), p. 7.
91. Mare de Lama, November 26, 1978;Tony Gebauer, March 4, 1987.
92. These descriptions are from former aides to Geisel and Figueireido, “O Vice Rei da Bahia,”
December 6, 1978.“Sao Paulo Attorney,” February 7, 1989 (“octopus”); Veja, February 21, 1989; Gilberto
Dimenstern, A República Dos Padriinhos, Sao Paulo, Editora Brasiliense, 1988, p. 135. Dimenstern, op. cit., p.
135, quoting Jornal do Brasil’s Ricardo Noblat.“Senior Executive,” Rio de Janeiro, June 1987; February 14,
1989. “SP Construction Executive,” Sao Paulo, February 21, 1989.
93. O Estada de Sao Paulo, September 14, 1986.
94. “Sao Paulo Attorney,” February 7, 1989; February 21, 1989; Veja, December 6, 1978.
95. Dimenstern, op. cit., p. 139.
96. Veja, December 6, 1978, quoting an aide to Geisel; Nelson Marchezan, aide to President João
Figueiredo, Veja, December 6, 1978; Afinal, December 2, 1986, p. 24.
97. Daniel Herz, A Historia Secreta da Rede Globo, Sao Paulo, Tche Editora, l987, pp. 32–63. “Senior
Executive,” June 1987; 2.14.89.
98. See Hinchberger, op. cit.
99. See New York Times, August 17, 1992, p. 3.
100. For ACM’s resignation and the details leading up to it, see British Broadcasting Corporation,
“Brazilian kingmaker resigns from Senate,” May 21, 2001.
101. “Mare de Lama,” Movimiento, November 20, 1978.“Sao Paulo Attorney/Construction Executive,”
New York, Sao Paulo, February 7, 1989; February 21, 1989;“Senior Executive,” Rio de Janeiro, June, 1987;
February 14, 1989.
102. For Odebrecht’s $70,000 donations to Jeb Bush’s “Foundation for Florida’s Future” in 1995, see
Campaign Eye Newsletter,Vol. 6, No. 1,“Campaign Was Built on Solid Foundations,” January 1999, available
at http://www.opensecrets.org/newsletter/ce61/07bush.htm.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 380
103. Visão: Quem e Quem na Economica Brasileira, August 31, 1984, p. 384.
104. See O Estado do Sao Paulo, October 6, 1987. See also the testimony by the Brasilian journalist Helio
Fernandes, 1985 Commission of Parliamentary Inquiry on the Brasilian Foreign Debt, p. 198; and A Chave do
Tesouro, op. cit., “O caso Econômico.”
105. Helio Fernandes, testimony, 1985 Commission of Parliamentary Inquiry on the Brasilian Foreign
Debt, p. 198.
106. “Senior Construction Official,” Sao Paulo, February 21, 1989. Donald Nicholson II, 9.89; Jorge
Eduardo Noronha, June 28, 1987.
107. Tony Gebauer, March 4, 1987.
108. Whitaker was married to Anoca, Angelo Calmon da Sa’s sister. “Senior Executive,” Rio, February
14, 1989; Dun & Bradstreet Company Report on Engesa Especializados S.A., May 1987.
109. “Senior Morgan Banker,” Miami, April 21, 1988.
110. Fernando de Sousa Queiroz, Sao Paulo, June 1987; “NY Banker #16,” January 25, 1989.
Eduardo Suplicy Matarazzo, July 4, 1987. “Senior Brasilian Banker,” June 22, 1987.Tony Gebauer, Feb-
ruary 26, 1987; Robert Blocker, February 25, 1987; Paulo Sotero, Gazeta Mercantil, February 5, 1987. Keith
McDermott, September 6, 1989; Who’s Who in Brasil, 1972.
111. ???????
112. C. R. Almeida, quoted in O Estado de Sao Paulo, November 15, 1986.
113. Tony Gebauer, February 19, 1987; Registrar of Deeds, Suffolk County, Riverhead, New York:
Deed 6853172, dated December 10, 1971.
114. The purchase date for the farm is from Gebauer, February 19, 1987; Registrar of Deeds, Suffolk
Country, Purchase of Dr. Ricardo Bisi’s estate in East Hampton for $286,179, Deed 9201277, dated June
23, 1982.
115. The jodhpur story appeared in Erik Berg’s New York Times story about Gebauer, May 22, 1986.
116. The Piso possession is mentioned in the GSO, op. cit., p. 23.
117. Glenn Lawson, Elizabeth Draper, Inc., 3.3.87; GSO, op. cit.; Owner, Coecles Harbour Marine, Shel-
ter Island, March 3, 1987; Brasilian Playboy, op. cit.; Fernandina Gebauer, May 1987.
118. Tony Gebauer, March 4, 1987. Receptionist, Larama Corporation (Club A and Hippopotamus,
March 3, 1987).
119. For Gebauer’s salaries see GSO, 1.87, op. cit.
120. US Attorney, February 1987.
121. “Senior Morgan Officer,” Miami, April 1988; Almeida Deposition, op. cit.
122. GSO, op. cit., pp. 27, 28–31, 40–41.
123. Linda Imes, US Attorney, March 1987; GSO, op. cit.
124. GSO, op. cit., p. 44–45.The distribution of loans to the accounts is curious.
125. GSO, op. cit., p. 4. Peter Briger, attorney for Almeida, January 5, 1988, New York.
126. Many of the details of Libya’s assistance to the Provisional IRA in the 1970s and 1980s are pro-
vided in Ed Moloney, The Secret History of the IRA, London, Penguin, 2002.
127. For Engesa, see Veja, October 17, 1984, pp. 52–54; October 27, 1982, p. 37; Jurandir de Freitas,
director of Special Operations, Engesa, June 23, 1987; Frederico de Sousa Queiroz, June 12, 1987, Sao
Paulo. See also John Hoyt Williams,“ENGESA—A New Giant,”The Atlantic,August 1984. Inter Press Ser-
vice, February 11, 1988; Latin American Political Report, March 4, 1977, p. 66;“Third World Weapons,” World-
Paper, June 1987, p. 4. Dun & Bradstreet, Company Report on Engesa, May 1987. (Company # 89-869-
3841).
128. L.A.Times, March 23, 1986, p. 12.
129. Teodomiro Braga, interview with the author, January 2003.
130. Reuters, August 6, 1990.
131. Jurandir de Freitas, February 1989, Sao Paulo. Satori Namura, ENGESA Financial Department,
May 1987. Dun & Bradstreet Company Report, op. cit.; Veja, November 27, 1982, p. 37. Frederico de Sousa
Queiroz, June 12, 1987, Sao Paulo.
132. “Senior Brasilian Banker,” interview with the author, Sao Paulo, June 22, 1987. Isaac Zaqury,
BNDES officer, June 5, 1987, Rio.
133. Ruth Almeida Prada, July 13, 1987, Rio. Jurandir de Freitas, former director of Special Operations
at Engesa from l981–85, June 23, 1987; July 4, 1987; February 21, 1989.
134. See also Catão’s biography in Who’s Who in Brasil,Vol. II, 1983; Keith McDermott, 6, 1989.
135. Ruth Almeida Prado, Rio, July 13, 1989. Gebauer, O Estada de Sao Paulo, December 12, 1986.
136. Gebauer, O Estada de Sao Paulo, op. cit.
137. Keith McDermott, September 6, 1989; Isaac Zaqury, BNDES, Rio, June 4, 1987.
138. GSO, op. cit., pp. 35–36.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 381
ENDNOTES 381
ENDNOTES 383
ENDNOTES 385
August 10, 2002; Newsday, December 13, 2002; Nicaraguan Network Hotline, “Aleman Indicted and Under
House Arrest,” January 2, 2003; New York Times, August 8, 2002.
80. For Aleman’s net worth, see Centr-Am News, February 14, 1999; Proceso, February 17, 1999;
Nicanet, February 15, 1999, February 22, 1999. See also www.pronica.org.
81. For the ENITEL case, see La Prensa, “Venta ‘secreta’ de Enitel,” September 1, 2001; Nicaraguan Net-
work Hotline, August 5, 2002; “Last Call,” LatinTrade.com, December 2002; Financial Times, September 4,
2001; Miami Herald, September 8, 2001.
82. Quoted in El Nuevo Diario, October 1, 2001.
83. See “Former Officials Linked to Corruption Scandal Have Left Nicaragua,” EFE, April 25, 2002.
84. See Nicaraguan Network Hotline, January 2, 2003.
85. For the charges against President Bolanõs, see Reuters, November 7, 2002; Agence France Presse,
November 9, 2002; Miami Herald, November 8, 2002.
86. For the HIPC hiccups and the foreign aid suspension, see Noticen, December 23, 1999; July 27,
2000.
87. La Prensa, December 5, 2002.
88. For more about Vietnam’s liberalization program and the role of Western advisors and lenders, see
Asian Development Bank, Program Perfomance Audit Report, Agriculture Sector Program (September
2002), PPQ:VIE 25325, available at www.adb.org;“IMF Approves Second Annual ESAF Loan for Vietnam,”
IMF Press Release, March 1, 1996; IMF/World Bank, numerous country reviews and statistical appendices
with respect to Vietnam (1996-2003), available at the IMF and World Bank websites.
89. See Project CVN 1025, http://www.afd.fr/projets/projet_view.cfm?id=430.
90. For more details about the coffee value chain, see Oxfam, Mugged (2002), op. cit., pp. 18–20.
91. International Coffee Organization data, available at www.ico.org.
92. For the conflict with these Montagnard tribes, see Clare Arthurs,“Vietnam Hill Tribe Men Jailed,”
British Broadcasting Corporation, December 12, 2002; “New Vietnamese school attack,” British Broad-
casting Corporation, April 16, 2001; “Repression of Montagnards—Conflict Over Land and Religion in
Vietnam’s Central Highlands,” Hydro Review Worldwide, April, 2002, available at http://www.hrw.org/
reports/2002/vietnam/index.htm#TopOfPage; UNHCR Centre for Documentation and Research, “Viet-
nam: Indigenous Minority Groups in the Central Highlands,”Writenet Paper No. 05/2001, January, 2002;
available at http://www.unhcr.ch/cgi-bin/texis/vtx/rsd?search=coi&source=WRITENET
93. Quoted in Gerard Greenfield, “Vietnam and the World Coffee Crisis: Local Coffee Riots in a
Global Context,” December 2001, available at www.focusweb.org/publications/2002.
94. The data on Vietnam’s coffee exports is from the International Coffee Organization, available at
www.ico.org.
95. Ibid.
96. See “Coffee Cartel Shuts Shop,” British Broadcasting Corporation, October 19, 2001.
97. Gerard Greenfield (2002), op. cit.; Oxfam,“Mugged: Poverty in Your Coffee Cup,” (2002 Report).
For more about the economic plight of Nicaragua’s coffee growers after 1999 and the factors responsible
for the situation, see http://www.nicanet.org/coffee.html; Ivan Castro, “Exodus of rural coffee workers alarms
Nicaragua,” Reuters, July 16, 2001; David Gonzalez, “A Coffee Crisis’ Devastating Domino Effect in
Nicaragua,” New York Times, August 25, 2001; Catherine Elton, “The world’s other food crisis: Central
America,” Christian Science Monitor, October 30, 2002.
98. See “No World Bank Role in Vietnam’s Expansion of Coffee Production,” March 18, 2002, The
World Bank Group, News Release No: 2002/244/S.
99. Asian Development Bank (2003), op. cit.
100. Don Mitchell, World Bank economist, quoted in Robert Collier, “Mourning Coffee—World’s
Leading Java Companies Are Raking In High Profits But Growers Worldwide Face Ruin As Prices Sink
To Historic Lows,” San Francisco Chronicle, May 20, 2001.
101. See “Bitter Harvest for Vietnam Coffee Farmers,” British Broadcasting Corporation, October 25,
2002; “Vietnam’s Coffee Farmers in Crisis,” British Broadcasting Corporation, September 18, 2002.
102. See Hydro Review Worldwide, op. cit.; Amnesty International, “Vietnam: Harsh Sentences for Mon-
tagnards,” ASA News Service, September 28, 2001.
103. See Scott Wilson, “Coca Invades Colombia’s Coffee Fields—Falling Prices Push Farmers to Plant
Illegal Crops,Threatening US Drug War,” The Washington Post, October 30, 2001.
104. For trends in Andean region coca and cocaine production, and the “centerpiece” characterization
of the role of coca eradication, see US DEA, “Drug Intelligence Brief—Changing Dynamics of Cocaine
Production in the Andean Region,” (June 2002), available at http://www.usdoj.gov/dea/pubs/intel/
02033/02033.html. For the reports of coca being grown in Kenya, on Mount Kilimanjaro, see “Plan
Colombia Criticism Leads to Increased Spending on Andean Initiative,” March 13, 2001, available at
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 386
ENDNOTES 387
2. See “Argentina ‘Sorry’ Over Nazis,” British Broadcasting Corporation, June 13, 2000; “Red Cross
Admits It Helped Mengele and Other Nazis Flee,” British Broadcasting Corporation, February 17, 1999.
3. World Bank Online Data, 2003.
4. Chase Annual Report, 1983.
5. Josephine Hunolt, Chase private banker, May 1989, Miami.
6. For a comparison of Argentina’s real per capita incomes over time, and its 1980 peak at $15,000, see
Sebastian Galliani, Daniel Heymann, and Mariano Tommasi, “Missed Expectations: The Argentine Con-
vertibility,” Argentina, Universidad de Buenos Aires/CEPAL, November 2002.
7. World Bank Online Data, 2003.
8. See Professor Ronald Dworkin, Nunca Mas, New York, Faber & Faber, December 1986, Introduction.
See “How Many Desaparecidos Were There?” available at http://www.yendor.com/vanished/index.html.
9. See the account of Galtieri by Andrew Graham-Yooll,“The Look of Utter Hatred in Galtieri’s Blue
Eyes Seemed to Say ‘I’ll Get the Lot of You,’” Daily Telegraph, January 1, 2003.
10. See Professor Ronald Dworkin, op. cit.
11. World Bank Data Online, 2003.
12. See Andrew Graham-Yooll, op. cit.
13. For Galtieri’s career, see “Leopoldo Galtieri,” The Guardian, January 13, 2003.
14. See the analysis of these critical logistical problems by Ignacio Fernandez,“The Falklands War,” Jan-
uary, 1999, available at http://guest.xinet.com/ignacio/polsi342/falklands.html.
15. “US Officer,” Rio, February 14, 1989. See also Gladys D. Ganley and Oswald H. Ganley,” Unex-
pected War in the Information Age. Communications and Information in the Falklands Conflict.” Harvard
University Publication, P-84–3, 1984, p. 105.
16. For the Burson-Marsteller relationship with the Argentine junta, see “What’s Wrong with: Burson-
Marsteller?” Corporate Watch Magazine, issue 2, winter 1996.
17. Quoted in Jonathan Marshall, Peter Dale Scott, and Jane Hunter, The Iran-Contra Connection, Boston,
South End Press, 1987, excerpt available at http://www.thirdworldtraveler.com/Ronald_Reagan/ReaganContra
Commit_TICC.html.
18. For Ender’s March 8, 1982 assurances, see Argentina’s Informe Rattenbach, December 1982, available
at http://www.nuncamas.org/document/militar/rattenbach/rattenbach12.htm.
19. See Jeane J. Kirkpatrick, “Dictatorships and Double Standards,” Commentary, November 1979.
20. For more about Wenceslao Bunge’s role during this period, see www.nuncamas.org/document/militar/
rattenbach/rattenbach33.htm—59k. For Bunge, see King’s College—London: Liddell Hart Centre for Mili-
tary Archives:Woolly Al Walks the Kitty Back television documentary archive, archive 3/2/1991, available
at http://www.kcl.ac.uk/lhcma/cats/woollyal/xw77-01-.htm#xw77S05.
21. Haig, quoted in Jonathan Marshall, Peter Dale Scott, and Jane Hunter, op. cit.
22. “Chilean Military Analyst,” Sao Paulo, February 21, 1989.
23. R. A. (“Johnny”) Apple, May 2, 1982. See the post-hoc analysis of the factors responsible for
Thatcher’s June 1983 victory in I. Crew,“How to Win a Landslide Without Really Trying:Why the Con-
servatives Won in 1983,” in A. Ranney, ed., Britain at the Polls 1983, New York, Duke University Press, 1985.
See also Patrick Dunleavy and Cristopher T. Husbands, British Democracy at the Crossroads:Voting and Party
Competition in the 1980s, London, George Allen & Unwin, 1985.
24. For a Swedish report on the case, see Social Democratic Students Organization, “Argentina måste
utlämna Alfredo Astiz,” Pressmeddelande January 14, 2002, http://studentforbundet.com/ssf/media/press
meddelanden/hagelin.asp.
25. See Reuters, “The Promotion of Captain Alfredo Astiz,” May 7, 1995.
26. See Agence France Presse, “Remise en liberté d’Alfredo Astiz, ancien militaire de la dictature,” January 30,
2002.
27. See http://www.yendor.com/vanished/junta.html#astiz.
28. For Videla, see San Francisco Chronicle, June 10, 1998, p. A10; July 15, 1998, C12.
29. For Videla’s 2001 indictment, see San Francisco Chronicle, July 11, 2001, p. A8.
30. New York Times, October 8, 1989.
31. For the baby-selling case, see The Wall Street Journal, November 25, 1998, p. A1; San Francisco Chron-
icle, January 21, 1999, p. A14; San Francisco Chronicle, March 17, 2000, p. D2.
32. See BBC Mundo, “Massera Dice Que Es Persequido,” September 7, 2001.
33. For Adolfo Scilingo’s testimony, see San Francisco Chronicle, January 1, 1998, p.A18. See Horatio Ver-
bitsky, El Vuelo, Buenos Aires, Planeta, 1995.
34. For the Argentine military bank accounts case, see San Francisco Chronicle, February 24, 1998, p.A11.
35. See San Francisco Chronicle, October 10, 1997, p. D2; San Francisco Chronicle, July 1, 1998, p. A8; Wall
Street Journal, December 7, 2000, p. A1.
36. For Galtieri’s indictment, see San Francisco Chronicle, January 23, 1999; October 3, 1999, p. C3.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 388
37. For the Argentine bond compensation program, see Axel Bugge, “Argentina to compensate ‘Dirty
War’ victims with bonds,” Reuters,August 19, 1997; Jack Epstein,“Argentina’s ‘Dirty War’ Laundry May Get
a Public Airing,” The Christian Science Monitor, December 4, 1997.
38. Jose Maria Dagnino Pastore, El Cronista Comercial, July 6, 1982. See The Economist, Economic Intel-
ligence Unit,“Argentina Report,” December 6, 1983, p. 16. See also The Wall Street Journal,August 9, 1982;
and Argentine Central Bank, “External Debt as of December 31, 1982,” unpublished l983 circular.
39. “NY Banker # 10,” January 5, 1989, New York.
40. For the missing $11 billion, see Clovis Rossi,“Instabilidade Politica, um Obstaculo,” Folha do Sao Paulo,
November 9, 1982, p. 15.
41. New York Times, October 4, 1983.
42. New York Times, October 4, 1983. For the run on the peso, US Department of Commerce,“Foreign
Economic Trends: Argentina,” March 1984, pp. 6–7.
43. The $10 billion for missing debt was supported by “Argentine Central Banker,” New York, June 6,
1988, and by Jim Nash and Alma Conte, op. cit.
44. The data on UK syndications to Argentina are from Euromoney.
45. See Raoul Contreras, “Why We Celebrate Cinco de Mayo,” North Country Times, May 4, 2002,
available at http://www.nctimes.net/news/2002/20020504/62153.html.
46. “NY Banker #7,” op. cit. For the informal write-offs of military debt, see Paul Beckermann, The
World Bank, December 22, 1988.The conduit loans to the military were described by “NY Banker # 10,”
January 5, 1989, NYC, and “NY Banker # 7,” op. cit.
47. For the YPF funnel role, Peter Beckermann,The World Bank, December 22, 1988.
48. William R. Cline and Riordan Roett, Latin American Economic Outlook,Washington, IEA, Inc., 1986,
p. 21.
49. “Argentine Businessmen,” December 2, 1987, New York.
50. For de Hoz’s tax avoidance gambit, see John Simpson and Jana Bennett, The Disappeared:Voices from
a Secret War, London, Robson Books, 1985.
51. Europa Statistical Survey, 1983, p. 1128.
52. Euromoney,“The Amazing Career of Jose Rafael Trozzo,” June 1980, pp. 14–15, 21 (Gebauer’s com-
ments).
53. “NY Banker #7,” op. cit.
54. For Minister Roberto F. Alemann’s later role as a UBS private banker, see “Argentine Central
Banker,” June 6, 1988. “NY Banker #7,” op. cit.; “Argentine Businessmen,” December 2, 1987, New York.
55. “NY Banker #7,” op. cit.
56. Rundt’s Weekly, October 10, 1983, p. 6.
57. Alejandro Debat and Luis Lorenzano, Argentina:The Malvinas and the End of Military Rule, London,
Verso Press, 1983, p. 80.
58. For Bunge’s Argentine-American Forum, see San Francisco Chronicle, February 28, 1998, p. A7.
59. Uki Goñi, op. cit. See also San Francisco Chronicle, October 2, 1997, p. A13, and February 28, 1998, p.
A7 (regarding Cavallo’s accumations).
60. See the study of Yabrán by Jesus Antonio Serrano Sanchez, Expediente Yabran! Universidad Nacional
Autonoma de Mexico, Facultad de Ciencias Políticas y Sociales, June 1998, p. 8.
61. For Alfredo Yabrán, and Bunge’s role as his advisor and spokesperson in the 1990s, see San Francisco
Chronicle, February 28, 1998, p. A7; Uki Goñi, “Cavallo’s Crusade,” December 8, 1996, at
ukinet.com/media/text/cavallo.htm, http://www.coha.org/opeds/111397.html; Martín Kanenguiser, “Como um
rato acuado—Alfred Yabrán, amigo de Carlos e suspeito de mandar matar jornalista, suicida-se para não ser preso,” Isto
É, May 27, 1998;
62. For the telephone calls by Yabrán to the Presidential Palace, see “Yabrán al desnudo,” Que Pasa, May
14, 2000.
63. See “Cavallo pidio discuplas a un juez federal,” Clarin, August 27, 2002. See Miguel Bonosso, Don
Alfredo, Editorial Planeta, 2000.
64. “Martín Kanenguiser, Como um rato acuado—Alfred Yabrán, amigo de Carlos e suspeito de mandar matar jor-
nalista, suicida-se para não ser preso,” Isto É, May 27, 1998.
65. For more details on Argentina’s 1990s privatization program, see Sebastián Galiani, et al,“The Ben-
efits and Costs of Privatization in Argentina: A Microeconomic Analysis,” University de San Andrés,
December 2001, available at http://www.utdt.edu/~fsturzen/ArgentinePrivatization.pdf.
66. See Andres Oppenheimer, “Argentine Linked to Mexican Drug Cash,” Miami Herald, March 1,
2000.
67. This quote is from Sebastian Galliani, et al, op. cit.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 389
ENDNOTES 389
and its role as a refuge for General Viaux, see John Dinges and Saul Landau, Assassination on Embassy Row,
New York, McGraw-Hill, 1980, pp. 181–87;Taylor Branch and Eugene M. Propper, Labyrinth, New York,
Viking/Penguin, 1982.
2. “Colombian Journalist,” May 21, 1989; Financial Times, February 6, 1989; Nathan M. Adams, “The
Hunt for Andre,” op. cit., pp. 238–42.
3. Financial Times, February 4, 1989.
4. Nathan M.Adams,“The Hunt for Andre,” op. cit.; James Brooke, New York Times, May 1, 1989,p. A3.
5. Financial Times, February 8, 1989.
6. ABC Color, April 5, 1989; Paraguayan Attorney General’s depositions of Mario Abdo Benitez and
Juan Martin Villalba de los Rios, May 1989.
7. This episode was outlined in Jorno do Brazil, August 28, 1988.Teodomiro Braga, April 14, 1989.
8. ABC Color, April 31, 1989.
9. The World Bank,World Debt Tables (l989). IDB, Statement of Loans (l986).
10. Financial Times, February 4, 1989, February 8, 1989; Roett, op. cit.; New York Times, May 1, 1989.
11. Judge Eladio Duarte Carballo was quoted in ABC Color, “US $40 million en el exterior,” April 15,
1989.
12. New York Times, May 1, 1989.
13. See Morton Halperin, Jerry Berman, Robert Borosage, and Christine Marwick, The Lawless State.
The crimes of the US Intelligence Agencies, New York, Penguin Books, 1976, p. 16.
14. For more about Vial, see “La Nueva Derrota,” Que Pasa, November 10, 1997; S. Rosenfed and J.L.
Marre, “Chile’s Rich,” NACLA Report on the Americas, May/June 1997.
15. See “Milton Friedman: Gurú a regañadientes,” Revista Qué Pasa, February 28, 1998. For the account of
the l973-78 period, see Paul E. Sigmund, “Chile: Privatization, Reprivatization, Hyperprivatization,”
Princeton University, unpublished, July 1989.
16. See Rodrigo Acuña R. and Augusto Iglesias P.,“Chile’s Pension Reform After 20 Years,”The World
Bank—Social Protection Discussion Paper No. 0129, December 2001.
17. For Vial’s and Lüder’s October 28, 1997 sentences, see “La Nueva Derrota,” Que Pasa, November 10,
1997, available at www.quepasa.cl/revista/1386/18.html.
18. “Chile Military Analyst,” Sao Paulo, February 21, 1989; “Miami Banker,” May 1991.
19. Raul Fernandez, former director of Public Credit for Costa Rica, International Bank of Miami,
April 22, 1988.
20. See S. Rosenfeld and J. L. Marre, “Chile’s Rich,” NACLA Report on the Americas, May/June 1997.
21. See The Inter American Press Association, “IAPA welcomes study of putting crimes against jour-
nalists under federal jurisdiction,” February 20, 2003, http://www.impunidad.com/pressreleases/iapa_
news2_20_03E.html.
22. Jack Anderson, The Washington Post, June 5, 1984.
23. Alan Riding, Distant Neighbors, New York, Alfred A. Knopf, 1985, p. 176.
24. Jack Anderson, The Washington Post, May 15, 1984, p. C15.
25. Proceso, April 1988.
26. Banco de Mexico,The Mexican Economy—l988, p. 144.
27. “Mexican Banker #1,” July 7, 1988.
28. The World Bank,World Debt Tables, 1991, v. II, p. 264.
29. “The Overselling of Carlos Salinas,” New York Times, February 24, 1996, p. 20.
30. Computing, July 7, 1994.
31. Computing, December 8, 1994.
32. Dan La Botz, The Crisis of Mexican Labor. (New York: Praeger, 1988), pp. 146-148; Francisco Ortiz,
“A cambio de contratos, el STPRM cede su exclusividad en la perforacion de pozos,” Proceso, 10. 24. 77;
Alan Riding, op. cit.
33. Business Week, October 17, 1988, p. 102.
34. Alan Riding, op. cit., p. 173; Financial Times, January 11, 1989;“Mexican Banker #1,” March 21, 1989.
35. Financial Times, January 12, 1989; October 31, 1989.
36. Financial Times, January 18, 1989, repeating the article by Excelsior, January 17, 1989.
37. Amnesty International (1994), quoted by The Irish Mexico Group, February 1997, available at
http://flag.blackened.net/revolt/mexico/img/salinas_state.html.
38. World Debt Tables, op. cit.
39. World Bank,World Debt Tables, 1995; ECLA; author’s calculations, including gross portfolio, direct,
and bondholding investments for 198–94.
40. Reuters, January 23, 1996.
41. Forbes Magazine, July 8, 1994.
42. See “Heritage of a Thief,” Counterpunch, vol. 1, no. 24, December 1, 1994.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 391
ENDNOTES 391
9. See Fawaz A. Gerges, “The Winter of Arab Discontent,” ABC News, March 21, 2003. See James
Ridgeway, “Southern Baptists OK Dancing (on War Victims’ Graves),” Village Voice, April 1, 2003.
10. For a summary of legal scholars’ views on the legality of the invasion, see Richard Norton-Tay-
lor, “Law Unto Themselves,” The Guardian, March 14, 2003; “As the Attack Begins, the Question
Remains—Is it Legal?,” The Christian Science Monitor, March 21, 2003.
11. See The National Geographic-Roper Global Geographic Literacy Survey of 3,000 adults, ages
18–24, in Canada, France, Germany, Great Britain, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Sweden and the United States,
November 20, 2002, available at http://www.nationalgeographic.co.uk/press_roperstudy.shtml.
12. Thomas Friedman, interviewed by Ari Shavit, “White Man’s Burden,” Ha’aretz, April 5, 2003.
13. See James Risen, “Secret History—the CIA in Iran,” New York Times, April 16, 2000, available at
http://www.nytimes.com/library/world/mideast/041600iran-cia-index.html.
14. See the biography of Archibald B. Roosevelt Jr., available at http://www.fas.org/irp/congress/
1990_cr/h900607-tribute.htm.
15. See Eric Davis, “Taking Democracy Seriously in Iraq,” Foreign Policy Research Institute, March
27, 2003.
16. See “II. Kurdestan,” in The King-Crane Commission Report, Report of [the] American section
of Inter-allied Commission of mandates in Turkey. An official United States government report by the
Inter-allied Commission on Mandates in Turkey. American Section. August 28, 1919, available at
http://www.cc.ukans.edu/~kansite/ww_one/docs/kncr.htm.
17. See “Confidential Appendix—The Emir Feisal’s Position,” in The King-Crane Commission
Report, op. cit.
18. Geoff Simons, Iraq: From Sumer to Saddam Hussein, St. Martins Press, 1994, pp. 179–81.
19. See David Omissi, “Baghdad and British Bombers,” The Guardian, January 19, 1991.
20. Arthur Harris, quoted in Omissi, op. cit.
21. See James A. Paul,“Great Power Conflict over Iraqi Oil: the World War I Era.” Global Policy Forum,
October, 2002.
22. For Qasim’s remarks, see British Broadcasting Corporation, “Monitoring Service, Summary of
World Broadcasts, Part 4: The Middle East, Africa and Latin America,” Caversham Park, June 27, 1961,
ME/675/A.
23. For Adnan Pachachi’s 1961 remarks on Kuwait, see UN, Security Council Official Records, New
York: United Nations, 1961, 957th meeting, July 2, 1961. For his potential role in a post-Saddam Hussein
Iraq, see “Who’s Who in Post-Saddam Hussein Iraq,” British Broadcasting Corporation, April 15, 2003.
24. For Kuwait’s description in the 1913 Convention, see J. C. Hurewitz, The Middle East and North
Africa in World Politics, New Haven,Yale University Press, 1975, vol. 1, pp. 567–70.
25. See Richard Sale, “Exclusive: Saddam Hussein Key in Early CIA Plot,” United Press International,
April 4, 2003; Abdel Darwish and Gregory Alexander, Unholy Babylon, New York, St. Martin’s Press, 1991;
Said K. Abureish, interview, Frontline, March 3, 2003. Miles Copeland, The Game Player: Confessions of the
CIA’s Original Political Operative, London, Aurum Press, 1989.
26. See Said K.Aburish, A Brutal Friendship:The West and the Arab Elite (1997);Aburish, interview with
Frontline, March, 2003; Said Arburish, “Saddam Hussein, The Politics of Revenge,” Bloomsbury, 2000, p.
58.
27. See Andrew and Patrick Cockburn, Out of the Ashes:The Resurrection of Saddam Hussein, London,
Verso, 2000.
28. See United States Interests Section in Iraq Cable from William L. Eagleton Jr. to Department of
State. “Meeting with Tariq Aziz,” May 28, 1981.
29. Dan Schorr, “Ten Days That Shook the White House,” Columbia Journalism Review, July/August
1991.
30. This account of the 1971 festivities at Persepolis draws heavily on an interview with Abdolreza
Ansari, published by Cyrus Kadivar,“We Are Awake,” The Iranian, January 25, 2002, available at www.iranian.
com/CyrusKadivar/2002/January/2500.
31. See Gabriel Kolko, Confronting the Third World—US Foreign Policy, 1945–80, New York, Pantheon
Books, 1988, p. 268.
32. See William Branigin, “Iran Set to Scrap $34 Billion Worth of Civilian Proejcts,” The Washington
Post, May 30, 1979, p. A22.
33. Henry Kissinger, January 13, 1977, quoted at www.iranian.com/history/Feb98/Revolution.
34. Kayhan,Tehran, September 16, 1977.
35. World Bank Data Online.
36. The Shah, quoted in a roundtable discussion with French TV, January 28, 1977, available at
www.iranian.com/history/Feb98/Revolution.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 393
ENDNOTES 393
37. Ayatollah Khomeini,“Speech # 38,” October 20, 1978, Neauphle-le-Chateau, France, available at
www.irib.com.
38. Euromoney, January 1980.
39. See Laurence H. Shoup, Jimmy Carter and the Trilateralists: Presidential Roots, Boston, Southend Press,
1980.
40. Mark Hulbert,“Chase Helped, US Hurt by Iranian Funds Freeze,” In These Times, July 2–15, 1980,
p. 16.The Chase asset freeze episode is described in “Why Did Chase Move So Fast,” Euromoney, Febru-
ary 1980, pp. 10–25.
41. “Strategist,” February 1986. See also New York Times, May 20, 1980.
42. See Richard Haas,“The Fall of the Shah,” Harvard Kennedy School of Government Case Studies
in Public Policy and Management, #797, Cambridge, January 1988.
43. Henry Kissinger, February 5, 1979, quoted at www.iranian.com.
44. William J. Daugherty, “Jimmy Carter and the 1979 Decision to Admit the Shah to the United
States,” www.americandiplomacy.org, March 16, 2003. See also Lawrence Altman,“The Shah’s Health:A Polit-
ical Gamble,” New York Times, May 17, 1981;Terrence Smith, “Why the US Admitted the Shah,” New York
Times, May 7, 1981.
45. This account of events on February 11, 1979 is based on a summary presented at www.iranian.com/
history/Feb98/revolution.
46. William J. Daugherty, op. cit.
47. Kayhan,Tehran, February 11, 1979.
48. See Leslie Woodhead (Director). “444 Days.” Antelope/The History Channel, British Broadcast-
ing Corporation, International Télé Images, 1998.
49. See Gary Sick, October Surprise: America’s Hostages in Iran and the Election of Ronald Reagan, New
York, Random House/New York Times Books, 1991. For a review and critique, see Warren Cohen,“Octo-
ber Surprise-Review,” Fletcher Forum of World Affairs, Summer 1992.
50. See Warren J. Mitofsky, CBS News,“The 1980 Pre-Election Polls: A Review of Disparate Meth-
ods and Results,” November 1981, available at www.amstat.org/sections/SRMS/proceedings/papers/
1981_011.pdf.
51. See Robert Parry, “October Surprise X-Files: Part I: Russia’s Report,” December 11, 1995, avail-
able at http://www.webcom.com/~lpease/collections/denied/octsurprise.htm.
52. See Robert Parry, “October Surprise X-Files: The Money Trail,” January 1, 1996, available at
http://www.Consortioumnews.com/archive/xfile4.htm.
53. For more about the character of Khomeini’s Iran, see Ervand Abrahamian, Khomeinism: Essays on
the Islamic Republic. (October 1993), available at http://ark.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/ft6c6006wp/; William
Shawcross, The Shah’s Last Ride:The Fate of an Ally, New York, Simon and Schuster, l988, p. 154.
54. See Steve Galster, “Afghanistan: The Making of US Policy, 1973–90,” National Security Archive,
1990.
55. The quote is from Janes’ Defense Journal.
56. See Gen. Mohammad Yahya Nawroz, Army of Afghanistan, and LTC (Ret) Lester W. Grau, US
Army,“The Soviet Army in Afghanistan” US Army, Foreign Military Studies (1996), available at http://leav-
www.army.mil/fmso.
57. See Hiro, op. cit., p. 29.
58. See Dilip Hiro, The Longest War—The Iran-Iraq Military Conflict, New York, Routledge, 1991, pp.
32–34.
59. For Khomeini’s appeals to Iraqi Shi’as to revolt, see Efraim Karsh and Inari Rautsi, Saddam Hus-
sein:A Political Biography, New York, Free Press/MacMillan, 1991, p. 138; see also S. Pelletiere, The Iran-Iraq
War: Chaos in a Vacuum, New York, Praeger, 1992.
60. See Lt. Col. Mark Buckhan and Frank Esuivel,“Saddam Hussein and the Iran-Iraq War,” National
Defense University, National War College (2001), available at http://www.ndu.edu/nwc/writing/AY01/
5602/SeminarC5602BestPaper.pdf
61. See American Federation of Scientists, “Iran-Iraq War, 1980-88,” available at http://www.fas.org/
man/dod-101/ops/war/iran-iraq.htm.
62. See Stephen C. Pelletiere, The Iran-Iraq War: Chaos in a Vacuum, New York, Praeger, 1992, p. 44.
63. See Jonathan Soverow, “Weapons Dumping and Senseless Slaughter in the Iran-Iraq War, 1999
Princeton memo, available at www.princeton.edu.
64. Said K. Aburish, interview with Frontline, March 3, 2003, available at www.pbs.org/wgbh/pages/
frontline.
65. For the “by-stander” characterization of the US stance during this period, see Michael Dobbs,“US
Had Key Role in Iraq Buildup,” The Washington Post, December 30, 2002.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 394
66. See Larry Everest, “Fueling the Iran-Iraq Slaughter,” Znet, September 5, 2002, available at
www.zmag.org.
67. See Everest, op. cit.
68. Aburish, op. cit.
69. See “The Iran-Iraq War: Serving American Interests,” Aspects of Indian Economy, #33-#34,
www.rupe-india.org, December 2002. See Frontline, “The Arming of Iraq,” September 11, 1990, available at
www.pbs.org. See also Ted Koppel, ABC NEWS Nightline Show #2690—Air Date: September 13, 1991.
70. See Robert Parry, “Saddam Hussein’s Green Light,” www.consortiumnews.com (1996), p. 2.
71. Said K.Aburish, Brutal Friendship:The West and the Arab Elite, London, St. Martin’s Press, 1998;Abur-
ish, interview with Frontline/PBS, March 2003.
72. Ibid., 1.
73. See Christopher C. Joyner, The Persian Gulf War: Lessons for Strategy, Law, and Diplomacy, Green-
wood Press, 1990, p. 66.
74. See Letter from Foreign Minister Sadoon Hammodi to Secretary of State Alexander Haig, April
13, 1981.
75. See Donald Neff, “Israel Bombs Iraq’s Osirak Nuclear Research Facility,” Washington Report on
Middle East Affairs, June 1995, pp. 81–82, available at www.wrmea.com.
76. Senator Alphonse D’Amato, Frontline, “The Arming of Iraq,” op. cit.
77. See Memo from Nicholas A.Veliotes and Jonathan Howe to Undersecretary of State for Political
Affairs Lawrence S. Eagleberger,“Iran-Iraq War:Analysis of Possible US Shift form Position of Strict Neu-
trality,” Department of State, October 7, 1983, available at www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/
NSAEBB82/iraq22.pdf. See Bill Herman’s 1991 interview with The Age, quoted in Jonathan Soverow,
‘Trankenstein of the Desert,” www.princeton.edu.
78. New York Times, February 28, 1982.
79. Digital National Security Archive, “Iraqgate: Saddam Hussein: US Policy and the Prelude to the
Persian Gulf War, 1980–94,” 2003, available at http://nsarchive.chadwyck.com.
80. National Security Directive 99, July 12, 1983. See testimony of Howard Teicher, In These Times,
March 6, 1995, which, I believe, incorrectly dated it at June 1982.
81. See UN Resolution 540, October 31, 1983; Washington Report on the Middle East,“Iran-Iraq: New
Dangers,” May 28, 1984.
82. See National Security Directive 114, November 26, 1983.
83. See US Embassy in UK cable from Charles H. Price II to the Department of State, “Rumsfeld
Mission: December 20 Meeting with Iraqi President Saddam Hussein,” December 21, 1983; “Rumsfeld
One-on-One Meeting with Iraqi Deputy Prime Minister,” December 21, 1983, available at
http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB82/iraq32.pdf.
84. See Institute for Policy Studies,“Rumsfeld Ignored Weapons of Mass Destruction in Pursuit of Oil
Pipeline,” March 24, 2003, available at http://ips-de.org/crudevision/index.htm.
85. See US Interests Section in Iraq Cable from William L. Eagleton Jr. to the Department of State.
“[Excised] Iraqi Pipeline through Jordan,” January 10, 1984; “Meeting With Tariq Aziz: Expanding Iraq’s
Oil Export Facilities,” January 3, 1984 http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB82.
86. The Washington Post, January 1, 1984.
87. See US Embassy in United Kingdom Cable from Charles H. Price II to the Department of State.
“Rumsfeld Mission: December 20 Meeting with Iraqi President Saddam Hussein,” December 21, 1983;
US Embassy in the United Kingdom Cable from Charles H. Price II to the Department of State.“Rums-
feld One-on-One Meeting with Iraqi Deputy Prime Minister,” December 21, 1983 available at
http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB82/index.htm.
88. See Central Intelligence Agency, Directorate of Intelligence Appraisal, “The Iraqi Nuclear Pro-
gram: Progress Despite Setbacks,” June 1983, available at http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/
NSAEBB82/index.htm.
89. Dr. Hans Blix, “Update on Inspection,” UN Security Council, January 27, 2003.
90. See US Department of State, Bureau of Politico-Military Affairs Information Memorandum from
Jonathan T. Howe to George P. Shultz. “Iraq Use of Chemical Weapons,” November 1, 1983; US Depart-
ment of State, Office of the Assistant Secretary for Near Eastern and South Asian Affairs Action Memo-
randum from Jonathan T. Howe to Lawrence S. Eagleburger. “Iraqi Use of Chemical Weapons” (includes
Cables Entitled “Deterring Iraqi Use of Chemical Weapons” and “Background of Iraqi Use of Chemical
Weapons”), November 21, 1983, available at http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB82/
index.htm.
91. See Michael Dobbs,“US Had Key Role In Iraqi Weapons Buildup,” The Washington Post, Decem-
ber 30, 2002.
92. See Jeremy Scahill,“The Saddam Hussein in Rumsfeld’s Closet,” CommonDreams.org,April 8, 2003.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 395
ENDNOTES 395
93. See the report on Howard Teicher’s deposition In These Times, March 6, 1995.
94. Colonel Walter P. Lang, Senior DIA officer, New York Times, August 18, 2002.
95. New York Times, November 2, 1992.
96. See Christine Gosden, “Why I Went,What I Saw,” The Washington Post, March 11, 1998.
97. See UN Resolution 620, October 26, 1988.
98. Michael Dobbs, The Washington Post, op. cit.
99. PBS, “The Arming of Iraq,” (1990), op. cit.
100. See Defense Intelligence Agency Intelligence Report.“Defense Estimative Brief: Prospects for Iraq,”
September 25, 1984, available at http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB82/index.htm.
101. For Abboud’s 1988 takeover of First City Bank, see Skip Hollandsworth, “The Killing of Alydar,”
Texas Monthly, June 2001.
102. Rep. Henry Gonzalez, Congressional Record, April 25, 1991.
103. See First City vs. Rafidain Bank, US Court of Appeals For the Second Circuit, Docket No. 97-
7532, July 16, 1998.
104. For the Harken transaction by First City, see Glenn R. Simpson,“Harvard Was Unlikely Savior of
Bush Energy Firm Harken,” The Wall Street Journal, October 9, 2002.
105. See Stockholm Institute for Peace Research, Arms Transfer Data Base, March 5, 2003, author’s
analysis.
106. SIPRI, op. cit.
107. Ted Koppel, Nightline, September 13, 1991.
108. Newsweek, September 23, 2002.
109. For Cardoen, see the report on Howard Teicher’s deposition In These Times, March 6, 1995.
110. See Robert Schoonmaker and Bill Sargent, “Enforcement Case Histories: Anatomy of a Success-
ful Investigation,” US Department of Commerce, 1995, available at www.bis.doc.gov/enforcement.
111. See PBS/Frontline, “The Arming of Iraq,” 1990, op. cit.
112. For Cardoen, see the report on Howard Teicher’s deposition In These Times, March 6, 1995.
113. Kenneth R. Timmerman, “US Export Policy Toward Iraq: An Agenda for Tomorrow,” Testimony,
Senate Committee on Banking, Housing, and Urban Affairs,Tuesday, October 27, 1992.
114. Mark Pythian, How the US and Britain Secretly Built Saddam Hussein’s War Machine, Boston, North-
eastern University Press, 1997, p. 38. For the claims that Iranian gas was also involved at Halabja, see Adel
Darwish,“Halabja:Whom Does the Truth Hurt?, www.opendemocracy.com, March 17, 2003. See also Stephen
Pelletiere, The Iran-Iraq War: Chaos in a Vacuum.
115. See Bob Woodward, The Washington Post, December 15, 1986.
116. See Newsweek, “Iraq in the Balance,” March 19, 2002.
117. See Gelb’s column, New York Times, March 9, 1982.
118. New York Times, January 1, 1987.
119. See Maxim Kniazkov, “Gulf War veterans accuse European firms over supplies to Iraq,” Agence
France Presse, December 24, 2002.
120. PBS (1990), op. cit.
121. Michael Dobbs, The Washington Post, op. cit.
122. Newsweek, September 23, 2002.
123. See Arms Control Reporter, February 1991.
124. See US Senate Report 103-900, May 25, 1994, p. 264; Agence France Presse, February 26, 1998.
Times of India, February 10, 2002; Michael White,“UK Anthrax Strains ‘Sold to Iraq’,” The Guardian, April
3, 1998, p. 10; Martin Hickman, “Britain Exported Anthrax to Iraq Says Lib Dem,” Press Association, April
2, 1998; Keith Bradsher,“Senator Says US Let Iraq Get Lethal Viruses,” New York Times, February 10, 1994,
p. A9; Kevin Merida and John Mintz, “Rockville Firm Shipped Germ Agents to Iraq, Riegle Says,” The
Washington Post, February 10, 1994, p. A8; William Blum, “Anthrax for Export: US Companies Sold Iraq
the Ingredients for a Witch’s Brew,” The Progressive, April 1998, p. 18; Jim Abrams,“US Firms Sold Possible
Biological warfare Agents to Iraq,” Associated Press, February 10, 1994;“Conflict Alleged for Head of Study
on Gulf War Illness,” Baltimore Sun, November 29, 1996, p. 20A.Tim Butcher,“Britain Sent Anthrax Agent
to Saddam Hussein,” Electronic Telegraph, February 14, 1998, http://www.telegraph.co.uk; Jeffrey Smith, “Did
Russia Sell Iraq Germ Warfare Equipment?,” The Washington Post, February 12, 1998, p.A1.“Russia Denies
Report It Helped Iraq Develop Biological Weapon,” Baltimore Sun, February 13, 1998, p. 14. A. R. Jeffery
Smith,“Iraq’s Drive for a Biological Arsenal: U.N. Pursuing 25 Germ Warheads It Believes Are Still Loaded
with Deadly Toxin,” The Washington Post, November 21, 1997, p. A1. J.Venter, “UNSCOM Odyssey: The
Search for Saddam Hussein’s Biological Arsenal,” Jane’s Intelligence Review, March 1998, p. 1.
125. See US Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), “Unclassified Report to Congress on the Acquisition
of Technology Relating to Weapons of Mass Destruction and Advanced Conventional Munitions, 1 July
Through 31 December 2000,” September 7, 2001, available at http://www.cia.gov/cia/publications/bian/
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 396
bian_sep_2001.htm; Ali Javed, spring 2001, “Chemical Weapons and the Iran-Iraq War: A Case Study in
Noncompliance,” Nonproliferation Review 8 (1): pp. 43–58; Physicians for Human Rights, “Winds of
Death: Iraq’s Use of Poison Gas Against its Kurdish Population,” Boston, Physicians for Human Rights,
February 1989, pp. 1–2.
126. Dr. Hans Blix, Update, January 27, 2003, op. cit.
127. For the “MI6” theory see De Morgen, April 15, 1998.
128. See Dennis Bernstein, “Gulf War Syndrome Cover-Up,” Covert Action Quarterly, winter 1998.
129. See James Cusick and Felicity Arbuthnot, “America tore out 8000 pages of Iraq dossier,” Scottish
Sunday Herald, December 22, 2002, available at http://www.sundayherald.com/30195.
130. See Andreas Zumach,“List of Companies Named in the Iraqi WMD Declaration,” Die Tageszeitung,
December 18, 2002, at www.taz.de/pt/2002/12/19/a0080nf.test.
131. See Kenneth R.Timmerman, The Poison Gas Connection.Western Suppliers of Unconventional Weapons
and Technologies to Iraq and Libya, Los Angeles/Paris,The Simon Wiesenthal Center, 1990.
132. See Andreas Zumach,“List of Companies Named in the Iraqi WMD Declaration,” Die Tageszeitung,
December 18, 2002, at www.taz.de/pt/2002/12/19/a0080nf.test. See also Gary Milhollin and Diana
Edensword, “Iraq’s Bomb, Chip by Chip,” New York Times, April 24, 1992, p. A35.
133. See Jay Solomon, Jess Bravin, and Jeanne Whalen,“Global Creditors Chase Iraqi Debts of $166 bil-
lion,” Dow Jones Newswire, March 29, 2003.
134. Ibid.
135. The Guardian, November 2, 1998.
136. Frontline, March 2003, op. cit.
137. See SIPRI (2003), “Iraq and Arms Control.”
138. See Veliotes and Howe, “Iran-Iraq War,” op. cit.
139. See Strategic Studies, The Military Balance, 1987–88, London, 1987.
140. See Iraq Ministry of Planning, Central Statistical Organization.Annual Abstract of Statistics, Bagh-
dad, 1985, p. 164.
141. DIA, “Prospects for Iraq,” Defense Estimative [sic] Brief, September 25, 1984, available at
http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB82/index.htm.
142. See World Bank/BIS (2001) estimates for Iraq’s foreign debt cited in Cavid Chance, “Regime
Change Could Benefit Iraqi Creditors,” Reuters, September 13, 2002; Center for Strategic and International
Studies,“A Wiser Peace: An Action Strategy for a Post-Conflict Iraq. Supplement I: Background Informa-
tion on Iraq’s Financial Obligations,” January 23, 2003, available at http://www.csis.org. Iraq’s 1989 GDP is
from UN< “Report on the Current Humanitarian Situation in Iraq,” March 30, 1999, available at
http://www.un.org/depts/oip/panelrep.html.
143. DIA, op. cit.
144. See Jay Solomon, Jess Bravin, and Jeanne Whalen,“Global Creditors Chase Iraqi Debts of $166 bil-
lion,” Dow Jones Newswire, March 29, 2003; “Japan Not to Write Off Iraqi Debts Reaching $6 Billion,”
ITAR-TASS, April 17, 2003. US EXIM Bank, Country Risk Analysis Division, “Iraqi Payments Situation
Deteriorates Further,” January 23, 1989.
145. See Action Memorandum from Richard W. Murphy to Eagleburger, “EXIM Financing for Iraq,”
December 22, 1983, available at http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB82/index.htm; Henry
B. Gonzalez, “The Case of Iraq and the EXIM Bank,” Congressional Record, February 24, 2002.
146. See Rep. Henry Gonzalez op. cit., February 24, 1992; Charles Hammond, financial economist,
Country Risk Analysis, “Memorandum to the Board of Directors—Country Limitation Schedule Rec-
ommendation: Iraq,” May 4, 1987, US EXIM Bank.
147. Letter from James A. Baker III to Clayton Yeuter, June 9, 1989;“Status of Iraq CCC Program,” US
State Department Memorandum, February 28, 1990, available at http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/
NSAEBB82/index.htm.
148. See Rep. Henry Gonzalez, op. cit., February 24, 1992; March 30, 1992; Digital National Security
Archive, “Iraqgate, 1980–94,” available at http://www.gwu.edu/~nsarchiv/NSAEBB/NSAEBB82/
index.htm; Russ W. Baker, “Iraqgate: The Big One That (Almost) Got Away, Columbia Journalism Review,
March/April 1993.
149. See USDA Memo, October 13, 1989, summarized in Rep. Henry Gonzalez, Congressional
Record,April 28, 1992. See also George Lardner Jr.,“Well-Connected Jordanian Avoided Indictment,” The
Washington Post, April 9, 1992.
150. See Rep. Henry Gonzalez, Congressional Record, March 30, 1992.
151. Rep. Henry Gonzalez, Congressional Record, April 28, 1992.
152. Rep. Henry Gonzalez, op. cit., February 24, 1992; Alan Friedman and Lionel Barber, “Kissinger’s
Firm Linked to BNL,” Financial Times, April 26, 1991.
Endnotes 9/18/03 4:00 PM Page 397
ENDNOTES 397
15, 2003; Dr. Eric Hoskins,“Public Health and the Gulf War,” in Dr.Victor Sidel and Dr. Barry Levy, ed.,
International Physicians for the Prevention of Nuclear War, War and Public Health, Cambridge, Oxford Uni-
versity Press, 2000; Melissa Krupa, “Environmental and Economic Repercussions of the Persian Gulf War
on Kuwait,” ICE Case Studies #9, May 1997, available at www.american.edu/projects.
187. For a summary of compensation claims against Iraq, see Center for Strategic and International
Studies,“A Wiser Peace: An Action Strategy for a Post-Conflict Iraq, Supplement I: Background Informa-
tion on Iraq’s Financial Obligations,” January 23, 2003, available at www.csis.org.
188. See “UN Pays $863.7 Million in Claims Against Iraq,” Reuters, April 8, 2003.
189. See Bruce Bartlett, “Sanctions Don’t Work,” National Review, March 19, 2003; “Iraqi Refiners Say
Pollution Cost of UN Sanctions is ‘Astronomical,’” News and Observer, April 27, 1998; Mary Deibel,
“Administration Takes on Rebuilding Iraq’s Economy,” www.knoxnews.com,April 10, 2003; Rahul Mahajan,
“The Unending War in Iraq,” Resist, September 2000, available at www.thirdworldtraveler.com.
190. Hans von Sponeck, former UN Humanitarian Program Coordinator for Iraq, February 13, 2000.
191. See US Government Accounting Office, “Weapons of Mass Destruction: UN Confronts Signifi-
cant Challenges in Implementing Sanctions in Iraq,”Washington, DC, GAO, May 2002.
192. See the review of Efraim Karsh and Inari Rautsi, Saddam Hussein: A Political Biography, London,
Brassey’s, 1991 by the US neoconservative Daniel Pipes, Times Literary Supplement, August 9, 1991.
193. See Dr. Stephen C. Pelletiere and Lt. Col. Douglas V. Johnson II, “Epilogue: Iraq and Kuwait,” in
Lessons Learned: The Iran-Iraq War, vol. 1, Fleet Marine Force Reference Publication (FMFRP 3-203),
Quantico, Virginia, US Marine Corps Combat Development Command, December 10, 1990. See also
Efrain Karsh and Inari Rautsi, Saddam Hussein: A Political Biograpphy, London, Brassey’s, 1991.
194. See The Wall Street Journal, April 2, 2003.
Acronyms 9/18/03 4:01 PM Page 399
ACRONYMS/ABREVIATIONS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I first began to write about the global underground economy in the late
1970s in publications such as The New Republic, The Washington Post, and The
Washington Monthly. A series of investigative articles in the 1980s started me
out on what became more than a decade of field research in most of the
world’s leading havens—the Netherlands Antilles, the Bahamas, B.V.I., the
Cayman Islands, Geneva, Zurich, Panama, Monaco, Cyprus, and of course
New York, Houston, London, Frankfurt,Vienna, and Miami. In addition, I vis-
ited many other key pit stops on the global development circuit, including
Mexico City,Tokyo,Vienna, Milan, Bogota, Santiago, Caracas, Port au Prince,
Sao Paulo, Buenos Aires, Johannesburg, Manila, Beijing, Moscow, and Berlin.
This was an extremely time-consuming task, but the stories that I tackled
required a transnational perspective. Indeed, investigative journalism now
demands a global perspective. The individual nation-state is no longer the
most important locus, because its role has been compromised by the global
mobility of skills and capital, the existence of a new breed of sophisticated
transnational criminals, and of course the haven network, whose tenacles now
span the globe, protecting and concealing ill-gotten gains.
Along the way, I’ve been assisted in my research by literally hundreds of
friends all over the globe. Unfortunately, many of them have to remain
anonymous. In Brazil, Teodomiro Braga, Eduardo Matarazzo Suplicy, Luis
Carlos Bresser Perreira, Donald D. Pearson, Raimundo Perreira, Robert
Blocker, J. Carlos de Assis, José Farias, Mariza Tupinamba, Celso Pinto,
Octavio and Sylvia Alvarenga, and Frederico de Souza Queiroz provided
valuable leads. So did Dr. James Putzel, Severina Rivera, Nick Perlas, and
Robin Broad in the Philippines; Dr. Ramirez de la O and Adolfo Lupke in
Mexico; Dr. Pedro Palma, Gustavo Galdo, Phil Gunson, and John Sweeney in
Venezuela; Stan Kahn, Halton Cheadle, Desiree Markgraaf, and Denis Beck-
ett in South Africa; Fernando Arias,Tomas Cabal, Mai Eisemann, and Rodrigo
Miranda in Panama; Senator Fernando Flores in Chile; Santiago Pombo and
Maria Theresa Barajas in Bogota, Colombia; Marcella Garcia in Ecuador;
Robert Levinson, Norman Casper, John Cummings, Robert Hudson, Ross
Gaffney, and Josephina Hunold in Miami; Marshall Langer in Neuchatel,
Michael Kinsley, Jodie Allen, and Dr. James Boyce. My tenacious research
assistants Kathleen Madigan and Silvana Paternostro, now a distinguished
Acknowledgments 9/18/03 4:01 PM Page 402
author in her own right, provided invaluable help in Miami, Mexico, Panama,
Paraguay, and Sag Harbor, and also rescued me from a nasty encounter with
Noriega’s police. In Russia, Igor Kondratyin, Sergei Glaziev, and Dmitri
Kuvalin were extremely helpful. Thanks are also due more generally to The
Fund for Investigative Journalism, Joshua Mailman, Eileen McGinnis, Laura
Pearson, Marshall Pomer, and especially to Tercer Mundo Editores’s Santiago
Pombo and Maria Theresa Barajas Sandoval for taking an interest in a Span-
ish language “prequel” of the book in 1996. And special thanks are also due
to John G. H. Oakes and John Bae at Four Walls Eight Windows, who have
been delightful to work with, showing infinite care and patience. I’m also
grateful to Barrington Moore Jr., Alex Gerschenkron, and Evsey Domar for
stimulating a lifelong interest in comparative history.
Finally, Priscilla Star, Daniel Salcedo, Jim Manzi, Senator Bill Bradley, my
father and mother Evan and Evelyn, and my children Alexander and Claire
Henry have all provided invaluable encouragement and good humor at cru-
cial points along the way. Investigative journalism is a long, costly, often thank-
less endeavor, taxing on friends and family. As Bertrand Russell once said,
“What is missing is not the will to believe, but the will to find out!”
James S. Henry
Sag Harbor, New York
September 2003
Index 9/18/03 4:02 PM Page 403
INDEX
INDEX 405
Cavallo, Domingo, 239, 246, 247, 248, 249, Cojuangco, Jose (“Pepe”), 62
250, 251, 252, 256, 257, 259, 260, 261, Cojuangco, Ramon, 51, 62, 75, 76
262 Collor, Fernando, 2, 14, 138, 151
Cavallo, Gabriel, 238 Colombia, 192, 193, 215
CDC, 31 Colosio, Luis Donoldo, 291, 293
Cerberus, 339 Combustion Engineering, 78
Cesar, Alfredo, 186–88 Cometarsa, 19
CESP, 10 Commerzbank, 345
CFP, 307 Commodity Credit Corporation, 346, 347,
CFSB, 35 351
Chamorro,Violeta Barrios de, 183, 197, 198, Complejo Cultural Teresa Carreño, 20
199–201, 203, 216–17 Complexo Pedra do Carvalo, 13, 150, 152
Chamorro Cardenal, Pedro Joaquín, 180 Computing, 282–83
ChartedWestLB, 31 Conable, Barber, 1, 66, 82
Chase, 14, 18, 55, 72, 106, 114, 132, 143, Concepcion, Jose, 82
184, 228, 240, 244, 245, 265, 267, 269, Concor, 31, 33
272, 273, 285, 310, 313–14, 315, 316, Conde, Pedro, 138, 154
345, 347 Conempa SA, 8, 19
Chávez Friás, Hugo, 95, 109–10, 113, 115, Congo/Zaire, 26–27
116, 117, 118–23, 124–25 Consarc, 339
Chayes, Abram, 196 Constantin, Prince, 49
Chemical Bank, 69 Copersucar, 163
Cheney, Richard, 41 Cordero Vale, Ali, 103
Chiang Kai Shek, 57 Cornfeld, Bernie, 136
Chile, 21, 268–75 Costa, Cesar Romeo, 266
China, 35–37, 41, 182, 303, 325, 335 Costa Cavalcante, José de, 150, 265
Chiudian,Vicente, 76 Costa de Silva, Artur, 135, 136, 139
Chixoy Dam, 21–26 Costa Lima, Renato, 145
Chrysler, 229 Costa Rica, 193, 197
Churchill,Winston, 306 Coyne et Bellier, 31, 33
CIA, 16, 26, 35, 78, 85, 137, 195, 210, 278, Credit Lyonnais, 31
304–5, 308–9, 315, 319–20, 321, 327, Credit Suisse, 14, 47, 266, 267
336 Credit Suisse-First Boston (CSFB), 79–81,
Cisneros, Diego, 96 250, 257, 302
Cisneros Rendiles, Ricardo José, 113 Creusot-Loire, 339
Citibank, 14, 16, 27, 29, 55, 62, 72, 77–79, Critchfield, James, 309
86, 101, 102, 114, 132, 141, 143, 169, Crowley, Chris, 128, 171
183, 184, 186, 228, 240, 244, 245, 255, Cruz, Arturo Jose, 184, 186, 188
265, 266, 267, 269, 273, 280, 285, 287, Cuadernos, Manuel, 62
290, 291, 295, 313, 314 Cuenca, Roberto, 75, 76
Citigroup, 14, 249, 250, 257, 298 Cutter Labs, 181
Cline,William R., 99 CVRD, 14
Clinton, Bill, 288, 296, 297, 354 Czechoslovakia, 325, 335
COFACE, 28, 31, 345
Cogan, Charles G., 320 D
Cojuangco, Antonio, 51 da Costa, Sergio, 348
Cojuangco, Eduardo (“Danding”), 51, da Silva, Luis (“Lula”) Ignacio, 2–3, 5, 15,
62–63, 75, 76, 87, 91 138, 151
Index 9/18/03 4:02 PM Page 407
INDEX 407
INDEX 409
INDEX 411
INDEX 413
Reagan, Ronald, 25, 65, 78, 191, 195, 225, Russia, 303, 338
233, 276, 319, 328, 329, 330, 336, 346 Rwanda, 301
Reed, John, 43, 79, 81, 287
Reed, Joseph V., 316, 318, 320 S
Regional Labor Court of Sao Paulo, 13 Saab-Scania, 340
Reich, Otto, 191, 203 Sa’adi, Ali Saleh, 309
Reno, Janet, 353 al-Sabah, Sabeh Ahmed al-Jaber, 358
Republic National, 266 Sabarsky, Serge, 157
Reyes, Luis, 116 SACE, 31
Rhee, Syngman, 57 Sada González, Adrián, 295
Rhodes,William, 99, 256 Sadr, Ayatollah, 325
Ricord, Auguste, 264 Safra, Edmond, 64, 136
Riggs National, 266 Saitoti, George, 28, 29
Rio-Niteroi Bridge, 13 Salinas, Raul, Jr., 290, 291, 296
Rios Montt, Efrain, 23, 24, 25 Salinas de Gortari, Carlos, 277, 279–81, 282,
Rischbieter, Karlos, 147, 148 283, 285–89, 291
Rizo, Jose, 205 Salinas Lozano, Raul, 279
Robelo Callejas, Luis Alfonso, 183 Salonga, Jovita, 47
Rockefeller, David, 18, 133, 161, 228, 245, San Miguel, 51
246, 256, 309, 310, 311, 316, 348 Sandinistas. see Frente Sandinista de Lib-
Rockefeller, Nelson, 310 eración Nacional (FSLN)
Rockwell International, 340 Sandino, Augusto, 188
Rodriguez, Andres, 264, 266 Sandy Ansalt, 49, 50
Rodríguez, Guimersindo, 103 Santo-Domingo, Julio Mario, 131
Rodriguez, Marta, 264 Saraiva, Raimundo, 144
Rodríguez Araque, Ali, 116, 120 Sarney, José, 11, 150, 151, 161
Rodriguez Feliu, Eduardo, 185–86 Saudi Arabia, 303, 324, 335, 344, 356
Rodríguez Iturbe, José, 122 Schlumberger, 40
Rodriguez Saa, Adolfo, 260 Schultz, George P., 74, 170, 329, 331, 345
Rogers, Henry C., 44 Schwarzkopf, H. Norman, 305
Rogers,William, 139 Scientific Atlanta, 340
Rogers & Wells, 16, 78 Scilingo, Adolfo, 237
Rollins, Ed, 16 Scott, Richard, 354
Romania, 302 Scowcroft, Brent, 348
Romualdez, Benjamin (“Kokoy”), 69, 75, 76 Seguro de Cambio, 243–44
Roosevelt, Archibald, Jr., 305 Semetex, 340
Roosevelt, Kermit, Jr., 305 Serra, Jaime, 293
Rosenberg, Ralph, 138 Servass, Beurt, 349–50
Rossi-Servix, 148, 164 Servass, Inc., 349, 350
Roxas, Gerardo, 86 SGS, 33
Roxas, Manual A., 60 Shah of Iran. see Pahlavi, Muhammad Reza
Roxas, Manuel A., II, 86 Shah
Royal Bank of Canada, 184, 186 Shaheen, John M., 16
Royal Dutch Shell, 307 al-Shamari, Fawzi, 336
Rubin, Robert, 291, 295, 296, 297 Shoob, Marvin, 352–53
Ruiz, Henry, 190 Shorto, Roberto, 165
Ruiz Massieu, Jose Francisco, 291 Sicat, Gerardo, 76
Rumsfeld, Donald H., 330, 331 Sick, Gary, 319
Index 9/18/03 4:02 PM Page 415
INDEX 415
INDEX 417