Decoding the Story of the Wen Family Billions
[This article appeared at Asia Times Online on Oct. 31, 2012. It can be reposted if ATOl is credited and a link provided.]
Regarding the epic financial
machinations allegedly practiced by the family of
Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao, his supporters can
draw consolation from the fact that the Wen family
compares favorably to the Bo Xilai family in the
matter of financial sophistication, investment
success, and in not murdering its financial
adviser.
They may also be heartened by
the thought that China's tycoons are achieving
parity with the West in best practices of
legalized insider trading and self-dealing.
There is another group that
definitely feels thrilled and empowered by the New
York Times' blockbuster revelation concerning an
alleged US$2.7 billion nest egg possessed by
Premier Wen
Jiabao's family. [1] That
group is not China's dissidents. It is Western
print journalists, who feel under siege around the
world, and especially in China. The Guardian's
media critic, Michael Wolff, took it to the next
level, calling the revelations the biggest thing
since the Pentagon Papers:
The New York
Times' unraveling of the holdings of the Chinese
premier, Wen Jiabao, and his family may be its
most direct challenge to a sitting government
since its publication of the Pentagon Papers in
1971. Arguably, its forensic accounting will be
even much more damaging and potentially
transformational to the Chinese government than
its seminal revelations about the roots of the
war in Vietnam were to the Nixon government.
As
with the Pentagon Papers, the Times now faces
the concerted wrath of the government it has
challenged. The Nixon administration took the
Times to the US Supreme Court in a move that
threatened to criminalize the company. The
Chinese government has cordoned off the Times'
digital reach into China and, effectively,
declared it persona non grata in one of the
world's most significant markets. In other
words, it's a great day. [2]
Easy,
tiger.
Actually, I think David
Barboza's expose of wealth aggrandizement by the
extended friends and family of Wen Jiabao might be
the biggest thing in journalism since ... the
Guardian's unconscionable butchering of the
WikiLeaks release, but that's another story.
In
the matter of the Pentagon Papers, the New York
Times defied the advice of its lawyers and
published the purloined documents at considerable
legal risk without checking in with the US
government. President Richard Nixon did not learn
of the leak until he opened his morning paper.
The
US government then tried to impose prior restraint
- getting a court injunction to force the Times to
stop publishing the ongoing expose - only to be
rebuffed by the Supreme Court. The court, however,
did not remove the New York Times from legal
jeopardy, affirming for the most part that that
the paper could be prosecuted after the fact for
revealing state secrets under the Espionage Act
(something that the Nixon administration
considered but didn't pursue). Instead, infuriated
by the leak, Nixon set up the "Plumbers"
(leak-stoppers) covert operation that burgled the
Watergate Apartments and eventually brought down
his presidency. [3]
In the Wen Jiabao matter,
Barboza collected the facts legally, and the Gray
Lady gave the Chinese government a heads-up before
publishing, as the New York Times' public editor
reported:
On Friday, I
interviewed the publisher Arthur Sulzberger Jr
about the story, the censorship and what it
means for The Times's global push.
"I'm very proud of this
work," he said of the story. "Our business is to
publish great journalism. Does this have a
business impact? Of course."
Mr
Sulzberger said the publication of the article
was preceded by "conversations with the Chinese
government to discuss it".
"They wanted to air their
concerns - which I listened to, as I should," Mr
Sulzberger said. "And eventually, we made a
decision to publish."
The Times'
foreign editor, Joseph Kahn, also confirmed
discussions with Chinese officials, and put the
scoop in the proper perspective vis a vis the
Pentagon Papers:
Mr Kahn said
that as recently as Wednesday, Mr Sulzberger and
the executive editor, Jill Abramson, met with
Chinese government representatives at The Times.
But the focus of that conversation was not about
the journalism - it was about political and
cultural differences In short, Chinese officials
were making the case that The Times not publish
the article.
"I'm gratified - there's no
other word to describe it," Mr Kahn said about
The Times's decision to publish it. "People cite
the Pentagon Papers, but that involved defying a
legal order." [4]
The New York Times
is suffering genuine and significant financial
losses from the story - one can assume its costly
Chinese-language launch has been blown out of the
water for at least a few months - and it should be
commended for running the piece, but the level of
institutional risk and political significance does
not appear to rise to a Pentagon Papers level.
Pre-warned by the Times, the
Chinese government moved into containment mode.
The Chinese Foreign Ministry issued a huffy
response that the report was a smear, the New York
Times US and Chinese-language websites were
blocked, and the word was put out to "harmonize",
ie scrub, web and blog references to the New York
Times, $2.7 billion, so on and so forth. In
addition, Western journos in China were subjected
to an aggravating slowdown of Internet service.
Within the People's Republic
of China, the report - which is inevitably
filtering through the Great Firewall - has
apparently not excited a new tsunami of disgust
against the Chinese Communist Party regime. The
response seems to have been muddled by the fact
that the article took pains not to implicate Wen
Jiabao personally, and by the fact that Wen is
regarded as a leader - albeit of suspect efficacy
- of the reformist bloc, and giving him a black
eye is considered as providing aid and comfort to
the enemies of reform.
The
fact that Wen is retiring after the 18th party
congress, to be started a few days from now, also
takes some of the heat out of the allegations.
There were even indignant accusations that the
revelations had been fed to the Times by partisans
of disgraced party official Bo Xilai seeking
revenge on Wen for his role in Bo's downfall
earlier this year.
This seems unlikely. Barboza
is a well-regarded and tenacious reporter who
spent almost a year sorting through Chinese
corporate records to get the story. Perhaps Wen's
adversaries were willing to egg him on, but, as in
the case with the Bloomberg expose on Xi Jinping
this past June (see
here - for which
Bloomberg staff were reportedly subjected to death
threats by disgruntled Xi cronies - it can be
assumed he dug out the story on his own.
The
Barboza article is a fascinating expose of how the
wealth-creation sausage gets made in the People's
Republic of China, revealing how a family with
political connections and access to information
can leverage opportunities in everything from
diamond-trading to construction of wastewater
treatment plants with the help of a few
billionaire friends in the PRC and overseas.
However - barring further
revelations - it is not the devastating legal and
factual brief against Wen Jiabao that the excited
coverage might lead one to believe. The New York
Times made the understandable, if rather
questionable decision, to hang its hat on the
eye-popping figure of $2.7 billion, inviting the
inference that Wen's family exemplified official
corruption on a truly heroic scale.
However, $2.2 billion of that
figure is derived from ownership of shares of
stock of Ping An Insurance imputed to members of
the Wen family, shares that were purchased by
partnerships in 2002, apparently for around $65
million, and which skyrocketed in value after Hong
Kong (2004) and Shanghai (2007) IPOs.
As
for those partnerships, the Times was
unfortunately unable to come up with a clear
determination as to whether they were simply front
companies for Wen family skullduggery or, well,
partnerships that provided privileged access for
wealth creation for PRC and foreign elites, some
of whom were members of the Wen family.
The
Times carefully characterized the partnerships as:
Partnerships
controlled by Mr Wen's relatives - along with
their friends and colleagues - made a fortune by
investing in the company before the public
offering.
Wen family fingerprints are
apparently all over these partnerships, but
nailing down issues of legitimacy and control are,
understandably, slippery issues.
Around $1.3 billion of the
purported Wen family stake in Ping An is
controlled by Tianjin Taihong, which in turn is
controlled by one of the PRC's richest people,
Mdme Duan Weihong, who is in turn generally
characterized as an old friend of the Wen family
and, more specifically of Wen's allegedly
rapacious wife Mdme Zhang Beili. [5]
The
question can seriously be raised as to whether
Mdme Duan is simply a bag-woman for the Wen
family, or a close family friend who has benefited
herself - and members of the Wen family - through
a carefully constructed, morally questionable, but
legally defendable web of obligation and
opportunity.
A look at Taihong reveals
something that looks more like a plausible
business enterprise than a slush fund or cut-out.
Taihong apparently achieved considerable success
in property
management and, subsequently,
development in Premier Wen's home town of Tianjin.
Taihong's English-language name is Great Ocean
Group.
On its website,
it touts its strategic investment in Ping An
(stating that "outstanding returns ... reflect
the group's foresight and execution ability"):
In 2002, the Great Ocean Group acquired a major
share in Ping An Group, one of China's largest
insurance and financial services companies
entitling it to a seat on the company's Board of
Directors. [6]
Duan Weihong took that
seat on the Ping An (supervisory) board from 2003
through 2009.
The Ping An deal shows the
hallmarks of privileged information and access; it
does not, however, exhibit significant signs of
interference by the Wen family to assure Ping An's
success. The Great Ocean investment occurred in
2002. The lifting of restrictions on domestic
insurance operations - which paved the way for
highly successful IPOs by Ping An and other
insurance companies - did not occur until 2004.
Spotting Ping An as an up-and-comer would not have
been extremely difficult, even without the help of
a high ranking communist official.
By
2002, Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs had already
been strategic investors in Ping An for eight
years; in 2002, HSBC also put in another $600
million (it would subsequently buy out Morgan
Stanley and Goldman Sachs for $1 billion).
The
company had employed McKinsey and Co to advise it
on its business operations, staffed its company
through a well-known European headhunter, and in
2005 it was named one of Asia's best managed
companies by Euromoney magazine. It subsequently
achieved the distinction of serving as subject of
a fawning case study by a leading Western business
school.
In short, Ping An's primary
identity is as a private company backed by
international financial muscle, not a sclerotic
state-owned-enterprise relying on government
favoritism and protection. Therefore, the
corrupt-dealing framing provided for the Times
article is, perhaps, not completely apt to the
Ping An situation:
As prime
minister in an economy that remains heavily
state-driven, Mr Wen, who is best known for his
simple ways and common touch, more importantly
has broad authority over the major industries
where his relatives have made their fortunes.
Chinese companies cannot list their shares on a
stock exchange without approval from agencies
overseen by Mr Wen, for example. He also has the
power to influence investments in strategic
sectors like energy and telecommunications.
Investing in Ping An prior to its IPO
and sensational run-up in stock price was
something of a no-brainer.
Of
course, getting an opportunity to invest prior to
the IPO is something else.
It
would perhaps be most informative to ask Ping An's
hard-charging boss, Peter Ma, or strategic
investors Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs, and HSBC
- all of whom had seats on the Ping An board - to
provide some context as to how Taihong/Great Ocean
was privileged to get a sweetheart pre-IPO deal.
Mdme Duan married a Hong Kong
investment banker, Desmond Shum, who perhaps
provided the deal-making expertise to enable Great
Ocean to leverage its Ping An windfall into a very
successful foray into active, managed investment:
the construction of the massive freight logistics
center at Beijing Airport, the "Airport City
Development Limited" or ACL, with a total
first-stage investment of 4 billion yuan (US$640
million). Mr Shum served as vice chairman and
chief executive officer for the project, which was
completed in 2007. [7]
In
2011, Great Ocean sold its 40% interest in ACL to
Singapore's Global Logistic Properties Ltd for
around US$270 million (the New York Times may be
in error here by imputing the full $400 million
proceeds of the sale to Great Ocean; the shares of
another company, "Trade Year Properties Limited,"
amounting to 15% of ACL, were also sold to Global
Logistics as part of the deal).
Interestingly, the Times did
not choose to impute the ACL deal to Wen-related
shenanigans, even though the high profile and
highly political deal (involving approvals by the
Ministry of Commerce, the Civil Aviation
Administration of China, the Beijing municipal
government, the General Administration for Customs
- which "consult[ed] eight ministries and
commissions" - the National Resources Development
Council, and the State Council) would seem to
welcome influence peddling in a way that the
largely opportunistic and passive Ping An
investment did not.
In true nouveau riche style,
Mdme Duan has turned to high-profile philanthropy
to enhance the reputation of her enterprise. Great
Ocean established the Kai Feng charitable
foundation, which funded the construction of
Tsinghua University's new library and, in 2012,
sponsored the Yehudi Menuhin violin competition in
Beijing. Under the sobriquet of the "Whitney and
Desmond Shum Fellowships", the family funded a
program to send two Harvard graduate students to
China each year to pursue research in the social
sciences.
Mdme Duan blotted her tycoon
copybook, however, with a flustered response to
the most damning piece of evidence unearthed by
Barboza: apparently part of Taihong/Great Ocean's
stake in Ping An was held in the name of Premier
Wen's ancient mother.
Apparently not aware that the
correct response to dangerous and intrusive
inquiries from the press is "Talk to my lawyer",
Mdme Duan provided a novel explanation:
"When I
invested in Ping An I didn't want to be written
about," Ms Duan said, "so I had my relatives
find some other people to hold these shares for
me."
But it was an "accident",
she said, that her company chose the relatives
of the prime minister as the listed shareholders
- a process that required registering their
official ID numbers and obtaining their
signatures. Until presented with the names of
the investors by The Times, she said, she had no
idea that they had selected the relatives of Wen
Jiabao.
It can be assumed that the
purpose of this legerdemain was not to enrich Wen
Jiabao's oblivious mother. Perhaps the motive was
to park some shares in the name of a clueless
retail investor - one who would not be subject to
the lock-up obligations imposed on strategic and
institutional investors in the Ping An IPO - for
prompt disposition at a favorable price.
In
any case, the case of granny's Ping An shares -
which had a value of $120 million in 2007, though
it is unclear that they are still in her name -
would be an interesting area of exploration for
China's securities regulators, if they decided to
pursue it.
Of course, if the way the
case plays out is that Mdme Duan takes the rap for
parking the shares, the Wen family will be
shielded from complicity and the matter will be
recast as a securities enforcement matter. It may
be that this is how things will turn out, and the
Wen family will face no criminal consequences -
and Wen Jiabao will not be subjected to Party
disciplinary action.
Judging from the long list of
business ventures described by Barboza - which
even absent the Ping An shares amount to interests
amounting to hundreds of millions of dollars - the
greedy members of Wen Jiabao's immediate family
(led by Wen's wife, brother, and son) were careful
not to demand or take payoffs as a condition for
deploying political influence. No "pay for play"
in other words.
Instead, the currency
employed was that of shared opportunity, mutual
obligation, and the promise of future cooperation.
Nor did the immediate family
hold assets in their own names - high party
officials are required to disclose their own
assets and those of close family members -
allegedly relying instead on the good offices of a
network of trusted relatives and associates.
In
other words, the Wen family appears to have
navigated the loopholes, opportunities, and
perilous shoals of personal enrichment in an
adroit, legalistic, and politically astute fashion
that would be recognized and admired immediately
by their spiritual brothers and sisters across the
sea: the robber barons of Wall Street and the
London bourse.
Whether Wen Jiabao and the
CCP will see fit to untangle this web in the
interests of transparency, decency, and the
Party's political viability is an interesting
question.
Notes:
1.
Billions
in Hidden Riches for Family of Chinese Leader, Yahoo! Finance, Oct
26, 2012.
2.
The New York Times' China
coup, The Guardian, Oct
26, 2012.
3.
Rethinking
the Pentagon Papers, National Affairs, Summer, 2010.
4.
'Great Journalism' That Has
Unwanted Business Impact in China, NYT, Oct
26, 2012.
5.
The Wen Family Empire,
NYT, Oct 25, 2012.
6.
Strategic China
Investment, Great Ocean Group.
7.
Airport City Development
Lid, DocStoc.
8.
China's
Ping An Insurance kicks off Shanghai IPO, Reuters, Feb 1, 2007.