The Myth of the “Sub-Prime Crisis”

CAPITALISM, like the proverbial horse, kicks even when in decline. Even as the current crisis hit it, it gave an ideological kick by attributing the crisis to “sub-prime” lending; and so well-directed was its kick that the whole world ended up calling it the “sub-prime crisis”, argues Prabhat Patnaik.

The idea, bought even in progressive circles, was that in the euphoria of the boom that had preceded the crisis, financial institutions in the US had given loans even to sections of the population who were not really “credit-worthy”, i.e. who were poor and had few assets of their own.

They would normally not get loans from banks; they were not “prime borrowers”. They got loans only because the boom had lowered guards everywhere and banks had started underestimating risks. But if you give loans to people who are not “creditworthy”, who are not “true blue”, then you inevitably come to grief, which is what ultimately happened, precipitating the crisis.

Remarkably, the idea appealed not only to the Right but even to sections of the Left. Sections of the Left liked it because they read into this explanation a basic contradiction of the system: to keep the boom going the capitalist system needs to give more and more loans, and therefore to bring an ever larger number of people into the ambit of borrowing, so that the level of aggregate demand is kept suitably up. This necessarily means that “sub-prime” borrowers have to be brought in more and more for the sustenance of the boom, which therefore must eventually lead to a collapse.

The Right saw in it an opportunity to argue that the crisis arose because capitalism had become “too soft”: people who should not be touched by financial institutions with a barge-pole had actually been given huge loans. The problem therefore lay not with the system as such, since it normally would never do such silly things, but with an aberration it had suddenly got afflicted with.

Some even saw in this aberration a muddle-headed humaneness which the system had suddenly developed. And they used the crisis as an illustration of the fact that all such humaneness is fundamentally misplaced, that there is, as they had always maintained, no scope for sentiment in the harsh world of economics.

In India, apologists of neo-liberalism worked overtime to use the fact of the crisis itself to discredit policies of “social banking”, such as priority sector lending and differential interest rates, that the country had embarked on after bank nationalization. All such policies, they argued, saddle banks with the responsibility of lending to “sub-prime” borrowers, and hence put on their shoulders an unbearable burden of “non-performing assets”. This ultimately makes them unviable and in need of substantial doses of government assistance to survive, as had happened in the US and elsewhere.

The moral of the story therefore was that in countries like India the markets should be left to work in their own pitiless manner without having to accommodate sentimental hogwash like “social banking” and “financial inclusion”. Hence by a curious irony, a crisis precipitated in the advanced capitalist world by the free functioning of the markets was used in the Indian context to argue for an unleashing of the free functioning of the markets.

The basic argument about “sub-prime” lending causing the crisis however was a flawed one. The banks had given loans to the so-called “sub-prime borrowers” against the security of the houses they had bought with these loans. If the values of the houses collapsed then banks’ asset values collapsed relative to their liabilities, precipitating a financial crisis.

The cause of the crisis therefore lay not in the identity of the borrowers, the fact of their being “sub-prime”, but in the collapse of the asset values, which in turn was because asset markets in a capitalist economy are dominated by speculators whose behaviour produces asset-price bubbles that are prone to collapse.

Indeed when the banks were giving loans against houses to the so-called “sub-prime borrowers”, they too were essentially speculating in the asset markets, using the “sub-prime borrowers” only as instruments, or as mere intermediaries in the process.

To attribute the crisis to sub-prime lending therefore amounted to shifting attention from the immanent nature of the system, the fact that it is characterized by asset markets, which are intrinsically prone to being dominated by speculators whose behaviour produces asset-price bubbles that necessarily must collapse, to a mere aberration, a misjudgement on the part of the financial institutions that made them lend to the “wrong people”.

It was a deft ideological manoeuvre. The identity of the people who borrowed, whether they were in rags or drove limousines, was actually irrelevant to the cause of the crisis, but it was presented as the cause. The blame for the crisis was put falsely on “sub-prime lending”; and a fabrication, a complete myth, called the “sub-prime crisis” was sold to the world, quite successfully.

Let us for a moment imagine that no loans were made to the so-called “sub-prime” borrowers, and that all loans were made only to “prime borrowers” against the security of the houses that were purchased through such loans. True, “prime borrowers” might not have been interested in taking more loans than they already had, in order to purchase houses, and that “sub-prime” borrowers had to be brought in. But, let us, just for a moment, assume that all the loans that the banks had actually made were made to “prime borrowers” rather than “sub-prime borrowers”.

With the collapse in house prices, which had to happen sooner or later, the “prime borrowers” would have found their balance sheets going into the red, and so would the banks who gave them the loans. The borrowers would have been hard put to keep to their payments commitments, and the same denouement that unfolded with “sub-prime borrowers” would have unfolded with “prime borrowers”.

The fact that the latter owned other assets would not have made any difference; they would not have easily or voluntarily liquidated those assets to pay the banks for the housing loans (and, besides, those other asset prices too would have collapsed if the “prime borrowers” had tried to liquidate them). And if such forced liquidation was insisted upon for paying off housing debt, then there would have been prolonged court battles to prevent it; the crisis certainly would not have been averted.

Hence the real reason for the crisis lies in the collapse of the house price-bubble (which was bound to happen no matter what the identity of the borrowers), and not the identity of the borrowers themselves.

Of course it may be argued that with consumer credit the matter is entirely different, since such credit has been given to large sections of the population without any security. In other words, it may be argued that consumer credit to “sub-prime borrowers” is necessarily crisis-causing, in a sense that consumer credit to “prime borrowers” is not, since it is given without any collateral. But the consumer credit bubble has not yet busted; so it is idle to speculate on this matter.

The fact remains that with regard to the bubble that has actually busted, namely the housing bubble, the identity of the borrowers, whether they are prime borrowers or sub-prime borrowers makes little difference.

To say this is not necessarily to deny that the sustenance of boom under capitalism may require bringing more and more people under the ambit of borrowing, including the so-called “sub-prime” borrowers who normally do not have access to credit. But this is not the cause of the crisis; the bringing in of “sub-prime” borrowers, the widening of the circle of borrowers, is merely the mechanism through which speculation may get sustained.

It may determine the size of the “bubble”, but the real cause of the crisis lies in these “bubbles” themselves, i.e. in the fundamental fact that in a modern capitalist economy, where fiscal deficits are sought to be restricted, booms are necessarily “bubbles-led” or at least “bubbles-sustained”; and the inevitable collapse of these “bubbles” necessarily produces crises.

Or putting it differently, if “sub-prime” lending had not happened, then the crisis would have occurred even earlier than it did, i.e. the bubble would have collapsed even earlier. This would of course have limited the size of the collapse relative to the top of the boom, since the bubble would have burst before it became too big; but by the same token it would also have limited the size of the boom itself that preceded the collapse, so that the unemployment rate, experienced with the crisis, would not have differed much between the two situations.

A modern capitalist economy is characterized by highly-developed and highly-complex asset markets, where it is not only the physical assets themselves, but, above all, financial assets, which represent claims on physical assets, that are bought and sold. Since the carrying costs of these financial assets are extremely low (rats do not eat them up as they eat up foodgrains for instance, and they do not need godowns for storage and for protection from the elements), they are particularly prone to speculation.

Their markets tend to be dominated by speculators who buy assets not “for keeps” but for selling at the opportune moment to realize capital gains. The prices of these financial assets therefore are determined largely by the behaviour of speculators. When there is a rise in their prices for whatever reason, speculators often rush in expecting a further rise and this pushes up prices even further. This process may go on for sometime, creating a “bubble”. But when, for whatever reason, the price rise comes to a halt, speculators start running away from this asset like rats deserting a sinking ship and the “bubble” collapses.

The real point however is this: the amount of the physical asset that is produced depends upon the price of the claims upon it, i.e. of the financial assets that represent claims upon this physical asset. If the price of these claims is high, then more of such physical assets are produced, and if the price is low then less. But while the price of these claims is determined by the behaviour of the speculators, the output and employment in the real economy is determined by the amount of physical assets that are produced.

Hence in a modern capitalist economy, it is the caprices of a bunch of speculators that determines the real living conditions of millions of people, their employment and incomes. When speculators are bidding up the prices of assets (or claims upon assets) employment and output start rising and we have a boom. When speculators leave assets like rats leaving a sinking ship and wish only to hold money (and in extreme cases, when confidence in banks gets impaired, only currency), we have a crisis.

John Maynard Keynes, acutely aware of the irrationality of this system that made the lives of millions of people dependent upon the caprices of a bunch of speculators, and yet extremely keen to prevent its transcendence by socialism, sought to alter this state of affairs by advocating “socialization of investment”. This would mean that how much of physical assets were produced depended not upon the whims of speculators but upon the decisions of the State, which made these decisions with the objective of keeping the economy close to full employment.

The Keynesian remedy was tried out for nearly two decades after the second world war; and the unemployment rate in the advanced capitalist countries was indeed kept at levels that were extremely low by the historical standards of capitalism. But with the ascendancy of international finance capital, and the consequent transformation in the nature of the nation-State, whose interventions now are meant exclusively for promoting the interests of finance capital, Keynesian “demand management” recedes to the background; and we are back to a regime of booms and busts associated with the formation and collapse of “bubbles”.

 

The current crisis is not caused by any aberration on the part of financial institutions; it is immanent to a regime of finance capital.

10 Top Robber Barons

The financial crisis has unveiled a new set of public villains—corrupt corporate capitalists who leveraged their connections in government for their own personal profit. During the Clinton and Bush administrations, many of these schemers were worshiped as geniuses, heroes or icons of American progress. But today we know these opportunists for what they are: Deregulatory hacks hellbent on making a profit at any cost. Without further ado, here are the 10 most corrupt capitalists in the US economy.

1. Robert Rubin

Where to start with a man like Robert Rubin? A Goldman Sachs chairman who wormed his way into the Treasury Secretary post under President Bill Clinton, Rubin presided over one of the most radical deregulatory eras in the history of finance. Rubin's influence within the Democratic Party marked the final stage in the Democrats' transformation from the concerned citizens who fought Wall Street and won during the 1930s to a coalition of Republican-lite financial elites.

Rubin's most stunning deregulatory accomplishment in office was also his greatest act of corruption. Rubin helped repeal Glass-Steagall, the Depression-era law that banned economically essential banks from gambling with taxpayer money in the securities markets. In 1998, Citibank inked a merger with the Travelers Insurance group. The deal was illegal under Glass-Steagall, but with Rubin's help, the law was repealed in 1999, and the Citi-Travelers merger approved, creating too-big-to-fail behemoth Citigroup.

That same year, Rubin left the government to work for Citi, where he made $120 million as the company piled up risk after crazy risk. In 2008, the company collapsed spectacularly, necessitating a $45 billion direct government bailout, and hundreds of billions more in other government guarantees. Rubin is now attempting to rebuild his disgraced public image by warning about the dangers of government spending and Social Security. Bob, if you're worried about the deficit, the problem isn't old people trying to get by, it's corrupt bankers running amok.

2. Alan Greenspan

The officially apolitical, independent Federal Reserve chairman backed all of Rubin's favorite deregulatory plans, and helped crush an effort by Brooksley Born to regulate derivatives in 1998, after the hedge fund Long-Term Capital Management went bust. By the time Greenspan left office in 2006, the derivatives market had ballooned into a multi-trillion dollar casino, and Greenspan wanted his cut. He took a job with bond kings PIMCO and then with the hedge fund Paulson & Co.—yeah, that Paulson and Co., the one that colluded with Goldman Sachs to sabotage the company's own clients with unregulated derivatives.

Incidentally, this isn't the first time Greenspan has been a close associate of alleged fraudsters. Back in the 1980s, Greenspan went to bat for politically connected Savings & Loan titan Charles Keating, urging regulators to exempt his bank from a key rule. Keating later went to jail for fraud, after, among other things, putting out a hit on regulator William Black. ("Get Black – kill him dead.") Nice friends you've got, Alan.

3. Larry Summers

During the 1990s, Larry Summers was a top Treasury official tasked with overseeing the economic rehabilitation of Russia after the fall of the Soviet Union. This project, was, of course, a complete disaster that resulted in decades of horrific poverty. But that didn't stop top advisers to the program, notably Harvard economist Andrei Shleifer, from getting massively rich by investing his own money in Russian projects while advising both the Treasury and the Russian government. This is called "fraud," and a federal judge slapped both Shleifer and Harvard itself with hefty fines for their looting of the Russian economy. But somehow, after defrauding two governments while working for Summers, Shleifer managed to keep his job at Harvard, even after courts ruled against him.

That's because after the Clinton administration, Summers became president of Harvard, where he protected Shleifer. This wasn't the only crazy thing Summers did at Harvard—he also ran the school like a giant hedge fund, which went very well until markets crashed in 2008. By then, of course, Summers had left Harvard for a real hedge fund, D.E. Shaw, where he raked in $5.2 million working part-time. The next year, he joined the the Obama administration as the president's top economic adviser. Interestingly, the Wall Street reform bill currently circulating through Congress essentially leaves hedge funds untouched.

4. Phil and Wendy Gramm

Summers, Rubin and Greenspan weren't the only people who thought it was a good idea to let banks gamble in the derivatives casinos. In 2000, Republican Senator from Texas Phil Gramm pushed through the Commodity Futures Modernization Act, which not only banned federal regulation of these toxic poker chips, it also banned states from enforcing anti-gambling laws against derivatives trading. The bill was lobbied for heavily by energy/finance hybrid Enron, which would later implode under fraudulent derivatives trades. In 2000, when Phil Gramm pushed the bill through, his wife Wendy Gramm was serving on Enron's board of directors, where she made millions before the company went belly-up.

When Phil Gramm left the Senate, he took a job peddling political influence at Swiss banking giant UBS as vice chairman. Since Gramm's arrival, UBS has been embroiled in just about every scandal you can think of, from securities fraud to tax fraud to diamond smuggling. Interestingly, both UBS shareholders and their executives have gotten off rather lightly for these acts. The only person jailed thus far has been the tax fraud whistleblower. Looks like Phil's earning his keep.

5. Jamie Dimon

J.P. Morgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon has done a lot of scummy things as head of one of the world's most powerful banks, but his most grotesque act of corruption actually took place at the Federal Reserve. At each of the Fed's 12 regional offices, the board of directors is staffed by officials from the region's top banks. So while it's certainly galling that the CEO of J.P. Morgan would be on the board of the New York Fed, one of J.P. Morgan's regulators, it's not all that uncommon.

But it is quite uncommon for a banker to be negotiating a bailout package for his bank with the New York Fed, while simultaneously serving on the New York Fed board. That's what happened in March 2008, when J.P. Morgan agreed to buy up Bear Stearns, on the condition that the Fed kick in $29 billion to cushion the company from any losses. Dimon-- CEO of J.P. Morgan and board member of the New York Fed-- was negotiating with Timothy Geithner, who was president of the New York Fed-- about how much money the New York Fed was going to give J.P. Morgan. On Wall Street, that's called being a savvy businessman. Everywhere else, it's called a conflict of interest.

6. Stephen Friedman

The New York Fed is just full of corruption. Consider the case of Stephen Friedman (expertly presented by Greg Kaufmann for the Nation). As the financial crisis exploded in the fall of 2008, Friedman was serving both as chairman of the New York Fed and on the board of directors at Goldman Sachs. The Fed stepped in to prevent AIG from collapsing in September 2008, and by November, the New York Fed had decided to pay all of AIG's counterparties 100 cents on the dollar for AIG's bets—even though these companies would have taken dramatic losses in bankruptcy. The public wouldn't learn which banks received this money until March 2009, but Friedman bought 52,600 shares of Goldman stock in December 2008 and January 2009, more than doubling his holdings.

As it turns out, Goldman was the top beneficiary of the AIG bailout, to the tune of $12.9 billion. Friedman made millions on the Goldman stock purchase, and is yet to disclose what he knew about where the AIG money was going, or when he knew it. Either way, it's pretty bad—if he knew Goldman benefited from the bailout, then he belongs in jail. If he didn't know, then what exactly was he doing as chairman of the New York Fed, or on Goldman's board?

7. Robert Steel

Like better-known corruptocrats Robert Rubin and Henry Paulson, Steel joined the Treasury after spending several years as a top executive with Goldman Sachs. Steel joined the Treasury in 2006 as Under Secretary for Domestic Finance, and proceeded to do, well, nothing much until financial markets went into free-fall in 2008. When Wachovia ousted CEO Ken Thompson, the company named Steel as its new CEO. Steel promptly bought one million Wachovia shares to demonstrate his commitment to the firm, but by September, Wachovia was in dire straits. The FDIC wanted to put the company through receivership—shutting it down and wiping out its shareholders.

But Steel's buddies at Treasury and the Fed intervened, and instead of closing Wachovia, they arranged a merger with Wells Fargo at $7 a share—saving Steel himself $7 million. He now serves on Wells Fargo's board of directors.

8. Henry Paulson

His time at Goldman Sachs made Henry Paulson one of the richest men in the world. Under Paulson's leadership, Goldman transformed from a private company ruled by client relationships into a public company operating as a giant global casino. As Treasury Secretary during the height of the financial crisis, Paulson personally approved a direct $10 billion capital injection into his former firm.

But even before that bailout, Paulson had been playing fast and loose with ethics rules. In June 2008, Paulson held a secret meeting in Moscow with Goldman's board of directors, where they discussed economic prognostications, market conditions and Treasury rescue plans. Not okay, Hank.

9. Warren Buffett

Warren Buffett used to be a reasonable guy, blasting the rich for waging "class warfare" against the rest of us and deriding derivatives as "financial weapons of mass destruction." These days, he's just another financier crony, lobbying Congress against Wall Street reform, and demanding a light touch on—get this—derivatives! Buffet even went so far as to buy the support of Sen. Ben Nelson, D-Nebraska, for a filibuster on reform. Buffett has also been an outspoken defender of Goldman Sachs against the recent SEC fraud allegations, allegations that stem from fancy products called "synthetic collateralized debt obligations"—the financial weapons of mass destruction Buffett once criticized.

See, it just so happens that both Buffet's reputation and his bottom line are tied to an investment he made in Goldman Sachs in 2008, when he put $10 billion of his money into the bank. Buffett has acknowledged that he only made the deal because he believed Goldman would be bailed out by the U.S. government. Which, in fact, turned out to be the case, multiple times. When the government rescued AIG, the $12.9 billion it funneled to Goldman was to cover derivatives bets Goldman had placed with the mega-insurer. Buffett was right about derivatives—they are WMD so far as the real economy is concerned. But they've enabled Warren Buffett to get even richer with taxpayer help, and now he's fighting to make sure we don't shut down his own casino.

10.  Goldman Sachs
No company exemplifies the revolving door between Wall Street and Washington more than Goldman Sachs. The four people on this list are some of the worst offenders, but Goldman's D.C. army has includes many other top officials in this administration and the last.

White House: 
 Joshua Bolton, chief of staff for George W. Bush, was a Goldman man

Regulators:
Current New York Fed President William Dudley is a Goldman man

Current Commodity Futures Trading Commission Chairman Gary Gensler has been a responsible regulator under Obama, but he was a deregulatory hawk during the Clinton years, and worked at Goldman for nearly two decades before that.

A top aide to Timothy Geithner, Gene Sperling, is a Goldman man

Current Treasury Undersecretary Robert Hormats is a Goldman man

Current Treasury Chief of Staff Mark Patterson is a former Goldman lobbyist

Former SEC Chairman Arthur Levitt is now a Goldman adviser

Neel Kashkari, Henry Paulson's deputy on TARP, was a Goldman man

COO of the SEC Enforcement Division Adam Storch is a Goldman man

Congress:
Former Sen. John Corzine, D-N.J., was Goldman's CEO before Henry Paulson

Rep. Jim Himes, D-Conn., was a Goldman Vice President before he ran for Congress

Former House Minority Leader Dick Gephardt, D-Mo., now lobbies for Goldman

And the list goes on.

Zach Carter/AlterNet

Keynes And The The Paradox Of Capitalism

Once upon a time, economic downturns were looked on as inevitable. Or incurable. Or even a morally justified, righteous cleansing of an economy burdened by the sins of excess. One result of this thinking was the policy mistakes that contributed to the Depression. One of the few good developments to come out of this experience was perhaps the most important economic breakthrough in the 20th century: John Maynard Keynes' 1936 book, 'The General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money.'

Keynes pointed out that in a downturn, an economy simultaneously has idle factories, unemployed workers and too little spending. This creates the possibility of a virtuous circle: Getting people to spend more will put the factories back to work, staffed by the previously unemployed workers. Put another way, in the short run, when the economy is operating below its potential, expanding demand can create supply.

Keynesian economics argues that private sector decisions sometimes lead to inefficient macroeconomic outcomes and therefore advocates active policy responses by the public sector, including monetary policy actions by the central bank and fiscal actions by the government to stabilise output over the business cycle.

Keynes argued that the solution to depression was to stimulate the economy (“inducement to invest”) through some combination of two approaches: a reduction in interest rates and government investment in infrastructure. Investment by government injects income, which results in more spending in the general economy, which in turn stimulates more production and investment involving still more income and spending and so forth.

The initial stimulation starts a cascade of events, whose total increase in economic activity is a multiple of the original investment. Not surprisingly, Keynesian theory is being touted as a mantra in these recessionary times when government “stimulus packages” are being hailed as the best way to save capitalism from itself.

Though bourgeois in his outlook, Keynes was a remarkably insightful economist. But even his insights could not fully comprehend the paradox that is capitalism. Indeed, our own experience belies the Keynesian optimism about the future of mankind under capitalism, writes Prabhat Patnaik in this insightful article.

In a famous essay 'Economic Possibilities for our Grandchildren' (1930), Keynes had argued: “Assuming no important wars and no important increase in population, the economic problem may be solved, or be at least within sight of solution, within a hundred years. This means that the economic problem is not, if we look into the future, the permanent problem of the human race.” (emphasis in the original)

He had gone on to ask: “Why, you may ask, is this so startling? It is startling because, if instead of looking into the future, we look into the past, we find that the economic problem, the struggle for subsistence, always has been hitherto the most pressing problem of the human race… If the economic problem is solved, mankind will be deprived of its traditional purpose.” He had then proceeded to examine how mankind could fruitfully use its time in such a world.

True, after Keynes had written there has been the second world war, but thereafter mankind has had six-and-a-half decades without any “important war” of the sort that could interrupt what he had called the “era of progress and invention”. And the rate of population growth has also not accelerated to a point that can be considered to have invalidated Keynes’ premise.

And yet if we take mankind as a whole, it is as far from solving the economic problem as it ever was. True, there has been massive accumulation of capital, and with it an enormous increase in the mass of goods available to mankind; and yet, for the vast majority of mankind, the “struggle for subsistence” that Keynes had referred to has continued to remain as acute as ever, perhaps in some ways even more acute than ever before.

To say that this is only because not enough time has passed, that over a slightly longer time period Keynes’ vision will indeed turn out to be true, is facile. The fact that the bulk of mankind continues to face an acute struggle for subsistence is not a matter of degree; it is not as if the acuteness of this struggle for this segment of mankind has been lessening over time, or that the relative size of this segment has been lessening over time. We cannot therefore assert that the passage of more time will lift everybody above this struggle.

Dichotomy Structurally Inbuilt In Capitalism
Likewise, to say that while enormous increases have taken place in the mass of goods and services available to mankind (the increase in this mass being more in the last 100 years than in the previous 2000 years, as Keynes had pointed out), its distribution has been extremely skewed and hence accounts for the persistence of the struggle for subsistence for the majority of the world’s population, is to state a mere tautology.

The whole point is that there is something structural to the capitalist system itself, the same system that causes this enormous increase in mankind’s capacity to produce goods and services, which also ensures that, notwithstanding this enormous increase, the struggle for subsistence must continue to be as acute as before, or even more acute than before, for the bulk of mankind.

Keynes missed this structural aspect of capitalism. His entire argument in fact was based on the mere logic of compound interest, i.e. on the sheer fact that “if capital increases, say, 2 per cent per annum, the capital equipment of the world will have increased by a half in twenty years, and seven and a half times in a hundred years.”

From this sheer fact it follows that output too would have increased more or less by a similar order of magnitude, and mankind, with so much more of goods at its disposal, would have overcome the struggle for subsistence. The reason Keynes assumed that an increase in the mass of goods would eventually benefit everyone lies not just in his inability to see the antagonistic nature of the capitalist mode of production (and its antagonistic relationship with the surrounding universe of petty producers), but also in his belief that capitalism is a malleable system which can be moulded, in accordance with the dictates of reason, by the interventions of the State as the representative of society.

He was a liberal and saw the state as standing above, and acting on behalf of, society as a whole, in accordance with the dictates of reason. The world, he thought, was ruled by ideas; and correct, and benevolent, ideas would clearly translate themselves into reality, so that the increase in mankind’s productive capacity would get naturally transformed into an end of the economic problem.

If the antagonism of capitalism was pointed out to Keynes, he would have simply talked about state intervention restraining this antagonism to ensure that the benefit of the increase in productive capacity reached all.

The fact that this has not happened, the fact that the enormous increase in mankind’s capacity to produce has translated itself not into an end to the struggle for subsistence for the world’s population, but into a plethora of all kinds of goods and services of little benefit to it, from a stockpiling of armaments to an exploration of outer space, and even into a systematic promotion of waste, and lack of utilization, or even destruction, of productive equipment, only underscores the limitations of the liberal world outlook of which Keynes was a votary.

The State, instead of being an embodiment of reason, which intervenes in the interests of society as a whole, as liberalism believes, acts to defend the class interests of the hegemonic class, and hence to perpetuate the antagonisms of the capitalist system.

Antagonisms In Three Distinct Ways
These antagonisms perpetuate in three quite distinct ways the struggle for subsistence in which the bulk of mankind is caught. The first centres around the fact that the level of wages in the capitalist system depends upon the relative size of the reserve army of labour.

And to the extent that the relative size of the reserve army of labour never shrinks below a certain threshold level, the wage rate remains tied to the subsistence level despite significant increases in labour productivity, as necessarily occur in the “era of progress and innovation.” Work itself therefore becomes a struggle for subsistence and remains so.

Secondly, those who constitute the reserve army of labour are themselves destitute and hence condemned to an even more acute struggle for subsistence, to eke out for themselves an even more meagre magnitude of goods and services.

And thirdly, the encroachment by the capitalist mode upon the surrounding universe of petty production, whereby it displaces petty producers, grabs land from the peasants, uses the tax machinery of the State to appropriate for itself, at the expense of the petty producers, an amount of surplus value over and above what is produced within the capitalist mode itself, in short, the entire mechanism of “primitive accumulation of capital” ensures that the size of the reserve army always remains above this threshold level.

There is a stream of destitute petty producers forever flocking to work within the capitalist mode but unable to find work and hence joining the ranks of the reserve army. The antagonism within the system, and vis-à-vis the surrounding universe of petty production, thus ensures that, notwithstanding the massive increases in mankind’s productive capacity, the struggle of subsistence for the bulk of mankind continues unabated.

The growth rates of world output have been even greater in the post-war period than in Keynes’ time. The growth rates in particular capitalist countries like India have been of an order unimaginable in Keynes’ time, and yet there is no let up in the struggle for subsistence on the part of the bulk of the population even within these countries.

In India, precisely during the period of neo-liberal reforms when output growth rates have been high, there has been an increase in the proportion of the rural population accessing less than 2400 calories per person per day (the figure for 2004 is 87 per cent). This is also the period when hundreds of thousands of peasants, unable to carry on even simple reproduction have committed suicide.

The unemployment rate has increased, notwithstanding a massive jump in the rate of capital accumulation; and the real wage rate, even of the workers in the organized sector, has at best stagnated, notwithstanding massive increases in labour productivity. In short, our own experience belies the Keynesian optimism about the future of mankind under capitalism.

But Keynes wrote a long time ago. He should have seen the inner working of the system better (after all Marx who died the year Keynes was born, saw it), but perhaps his upper class Edwardian upbringing came in the way.

But what does one say of people who, having seen the destitution-“high growth” dialectics in the contemporary world, still cling to the illusion that the logic of compound interest will overcome the “economic problem of mankind”?

Neo-liberal ideologues of course propound this illusion, either in its simple version, which is the “trickle down” theory, or in the slightly more complex version, where the State is supposed to ensure through its intervention that the benefits of the growing mass of goods and services are made available to all, thereby alleviating poverty and easing the struggle for subsistence.

But this illusion often appears in an altogether unrecognizable form. Jeffrey Sachs, the economist who is well-known for his administration of the so-called shock therapy in the former Soviet Union that led to a veritable retrogression of the economy and the unleashing of massive suffering on millions of people, has come out with a book where he argues that poverty in large parts of the world is associated with adverse geographical factors, such as drought-proneness, desertification, infertile soil, and such like.

He wants global efforts to help these economies which are the victims of such niggardliness on the part of nature. The fact that enormous poverty exists in areas, where nature is not niggardly, but on the contrary bounteous; the fact that the very bounteousness of nature has formed the basis of exploitation of the producers on a massive scale, so that they are engaged in an acute struggle for existence precisely in the midst of plenitude; and hence the fact that the bulk of the world’s population continues to struggle for subsistence not because of nature’s niggardliness but because of the incubus of an exploitative social order, are all obscured by such analysis. Keynes’ faith in the miracle of compound interest would be justified in a socialist order, but not in a capitalist one.

Fareed Zakaria's 'Capitalist Manifesto': A Desperate Attempt At Reassurance

Fareed Zakaria, editor of Newsweek International, has written an essay entitled 'The Capitalist Manifesto: Greed is Good (To a point)', which is intended to express relief that the panic engendered by the global financial crisis is easing, and to offer reassurances that, for all its faults, capitalism is still “the most productive economic engine we have yet invented.”

The problem with this claim that all is, again, for the best in the best of all possible worlds, is that far from the crisis having ended, it is only just beginning to unfold. Zakaria begins by drawing comfort from the fact that the financial crises of the past 20 years were all overcome, leading to further economic growth.

The stock market crash of 1987 defied predictions of a return to the Great Depression and “turned out to be a blip on the way to an even bigger, longer boom.” The 1997 Asian financial crisis did not lead to a global slump. Instead, the Asian economies “rebounded within two years”.

The collapse of Long Term Capital Management in 1998, described by then US Treasury secretary Robert Rubin as “the worst financial crisis in 50 years”, did not result in the end of hedge funds. Rather they have “massively expanded” since then.

How were these earlier crises overcome? As Zakaria notes, US Federal Reserve chairman Alan Greenspan always advanced the same solution: cut interest rates and provide easy money, creating a series of asset bubbles.

When the subprime crisis developed in 2007, Fed chairman Ben Bernanke followed the same procedure. However, on this occasion, interest rate cuts failed to alleviate the crisis. The Fed initiated its injections of liquidity in August 2007, but the situation only worsened.

The investment bank Bear Stearns went under in March 2008, followed by the collapse of Lehman Brothers in September and, by the end of 2008, notwithstanding massive injections of liquidity, all five Wall Street investment banks had either collapsed or been forced to restructure. The global financial system was on the brink of a meltdown.

This alone demonstrates that, far from the happy scenario painted by Zakaria—this crisis is just like the others since 1987—the collapse that began in 2007 marked a qualitative turn in an ongoing process.

Zakaria is forced to acknowledge that the global financial system has been “crashing more frequently over the past 30 years than in any comparable period in history”. But he insists that the problem is not with the profit system itself. “What we are experiencing is not a crisis of capitalism. It is a crisis of finance, of democracy, of globalization and ultimately of ethics.”

In the first place, the separation of capitalism from each of these phenomena is absurd—as if the capitalist mode of production could somehow be lifted out of the historical situation in which it is situated; as if it does not shape the socio-political environment in which it operates, including the prevailing ethics.

Let us examine each of Zakaria’s explanations of the crisis in turn.

He insists, along with many others, that the fault lies with the operations of the financial system. “Finance screwed up, or to be more precise, financiers did. In June 2007, when the financial crisis began, Coca-Cola, PepsiCo, IBM, Nike, Wal-Mart and Microsoft were all running their companies with strong balance sheets and sensible business models. Major American corporations were highly profitable, and they were spending prudently, holding on to cash to build a cushion for a downturn.”

The separation of finance (the bad side) from the rest of the capitalist economy (the good side) has a long history. It was taken up by Marx in his withering critique of the French petty-bourgeois anarchist Proudhon more than 150 years ago. As Marx explained then, the “bad” side cannot be separated from the “good”, especially as it turns out that, more often than not, the “bad” side is the driving force of historical development. And that is the case in the current situation.

The development of American capitalism—and the global economy—has been grounded on the vast changes associated with the processes of financialisation that began in the 1980s.

A few figures illustrate what has occurred. In 1980, financial firms accounted for about 5 per cent of total corporate profits. By 2006 this had risen to around 40 per cent. On a global scale, financial assets in 1980 were roughly equal in value to world gross domestic product.

Twenty-five years later they constituted 350 per cent of global GDP. At the heart of this transformation has been the accumulation of finance sector debt in the US economy. It rose from 63.8 per cent of GDP in 1997 to 113.8 per cent in 2007—a result of the banks and financial corporations plunging ever deeper into debt in order to fund their debt-based financial operations.

The rise and rise of financialisation was not simply a policy choice, but a response to a crisis in the capitalist accumulation process that had developed in the late 1960s and 1970s. Faced with a downturn in the rate of profit, American capitalism undertook a major restructuring program from the end of the 1970s onwards.

This involved the destruction of large swathes of manufacturing industry, a concerted assault on the social position of the working class, the development of off-shoring and outsourcing to take advantage of cheaper sources of labour, and a turn to financial manipulation, such as hostile takeovers and mergers, as the source of profit.

New Mode of Accumulation

The transformation of the American economy in the 1980s saw the emergence of a new mode of accumulation, in which profits were made through the appropriation, by financial methods, of already created wealth.

Historically, wealth had been accumulated in the US economy through investment, trade and manufacturing. Now the driving force of accumulation became rising asset prices. This has determined the shape of the US economy, and the accumulation of profit by all sections of capital—even for those not immediately connected to finance.

Back in the 1950s and 1960s, manufacturing firms based on assembly-line production were not the largest component of the American economy. But the vast increases in profitability that these methods made possible created the conditions where all sectors of capital could expand. This was a society dominated by what sociologists have called a “Fordist regime” in which, as former GM CEO Charles Wilson famously noted, “what was good for the country was good for General Motors and vice versa.”

In the past 25 years, the fundamental role once played by assembly-line manufacturing in the American economy has been assumed by finance capital. No matter how sound or well-run an individual capitalist firm may be, the accumulation of profit is a social process. Each firm depends for its expansion on the growth of the economy as a whole. And in the US, finance capital has been the driving force.

Any attempt to separate the “bad” side from the “good” collapses upon even a cursory review. Zakaria points to various corporations as part of the “good” side of American capital. One of them is Microsoft. But one of the chief sources of Microsoft’s profits has been the sales of the computers and software programs that have powered the finance sector.

Consider Nike and Wal-Mart. They have profited by exploiting cheap labour in China and other countries, under conditions of globalised production. But these operations, involving complex financial relationships, would have been impossible without the growth of financial derivatives.

At the same time, Nike and Wal-Mart could not have remained profitable without the rise in US consumer debt—much of it from housing finance—that has sustained American consumption spending in the face of stagnant or declining real incomes over the past quarter century. The essential significance of the global financial crisis is that it marks the breakdown of the mode of accumulation that has prevailed for the past 25 years.

Financial assets derive their value, in the final analysis, from their claim upon the production of real wealth. Shares are an obvious example. The share is a claim to a portion of a stream of income generated by a particular company. But this share can be bought and sold, and its value may increase in the market in excess of the value of the underlying asset.

The fact that financial assets have expanded almost four-fold in relation to global production over the past two and a half decades means that all their claims to real wealth cannot be met. This disparity is expressed in the emergence of so-called “toxic assets” on the books of the banks and finance houses—claims to income and wealth that are essentially worthless.

In other words, the crisis is not one of liquidity, i.e., lack of sufficient funds to ensure the functioning of an otherwise healthy system, but of insolvency. Its dimensions are indicated by the fact that to restore the parity that existed in 1980 between the value of financial assets and global GDP would mean wiping out financial asset values equivalent to twice global GDP.

These figures make clear the meaning of the bailout and stimulus packages launched by governments around the world. They have nothing to do with maintaining the jobs and living standards of the working class. Rather, they are aimed at transferring as much as possible of the massive debts and “toxic assets” amassed by the financial corporations and banks to the state.

It is precisely this state rescue operation that has boosted stock markets over the past three months and enabled Zakaria to breathe a sigh of relief. As a recent article in the Wall Street Journal noted, one of the main reasons for the more than 30 per cent rebound is “disarmingly simple”. Financial markets are “awash in government cash” as a result of the biggest combined financial stimulus the world has seen in modern times.

The US government has already pledged $12.7 trillion in support of the financial system, almost equivalent to America’s gross domestic product. Since the financial crisis intensified in September 2008, governments worldwide have committed $18 trillion in public funds, equivalent to almost 30 per cent of world GDP, to recapitalising the banks. This has led to a blowout in their fiscal position.

In Britain, government debt is expected to soon reach 100 per cent of GDP while Japan’s government debt is headed for 200 per cent by 2011 and government debt in the US is expected to reach 100 per cent of GDP by the same time. According to IMF economists, by 2014 public debt to GDP ratios in the G-20 economies, comprising some 85 per cent of the global economy, will have increased by 36 percentage points of GDP compared to the levels at the end of 2007.

A New Political Regime

Government finance, however, cannot go on indefinitely. The debts incurred by the state to finance the banks will be paid through slashing government spending and social services and forcibly impoverishing the working class. The scale of this assault on social conditions and living standards will be directly proportionate to the size of the sums of money involved. According to one estimate in Britain, consumption there will have to be reduced by at least 20 per cent from its level in 2006-2007 to make even a start on balancing the government’s books.

Zakaria points to the “terrifying” growth of government debt in America, especially when entitlements and pension commitments are included, and remarks that “no-one has tried seriously to close the gap, which can be done only by (1) raising taxes or (2) cutting expenditures.”

“This is the disease of modern democracy: the system cannot impose any short-term pain for long-term gain.” The political implications are clear: it is impossible to impose the massive spending cuts and rises in revenue needed to wipe off government debt within the present political order. Restructuring the US and other major capitalist economies requires a new, far more repressive regime.

Zakaria goes to extraordinary lengths in his attempt to claim that capitalism is not the cause of the crisis. The real problem, he insists, is not failure, but too much success. The world has been moving to “an extraordinary degree of political stability”; there is no major military competition among the great powers; political violence is on the decline.

Given the wars being conducted by the US in Iraq, Pakistan and Afghanistan, such an assertion can only be described as absurd. As for the subsidence of great power rivalry, one need only point to the constant and growing concern in US policy-making circles about the rise of China.

However, Zakaria is not going to let facts get in the way of the story he wants to tell. Political stability, he claims, has been accompanied by a reduction in inflation, economic growth and the establishment of a global economic system. It is these “good times” that made people complacent, and, as the cost of capital sank, more foolish.

“The world economy had become the equivalent of a race car—faster and more complex than any vehicle anyone had ever seen. But it turned out that no one had driven a car like this before, and no one really knew how. So it crashed.”

What of the future? “The real problem,” he continues, “is that we’re still driving this car. The global economy remains highly complex, interconnected and imbalanced. The Chinese still pile up their surpluses and need to put them somewhere. Washington and Beijing will have to work hard to slowly stabilize their mutual dependence so that the system is not being set up for another crash.”

In other words, while the crisis is over, all the conditions that produced it are still present, and nowhere nearer to being resolved.

Lenin once remarked that the power of Marxism is that it is true. Every so often, even conscious opponents of Marxism are forced, by the very logic of objective facts, to point to processes that form the centre of Marxist analysis. This is the case here.

According to Zakaria: “More broadly, the fundamental crisis we face is of globalisation itself. We have globalised the economies of nations. Trade, travel and tourism are bringing people together. Technology has created worldwide supply chains, companies and customers. But our politics remains resolutely national. This tension is at the heart of the many crashes of this era - a mismatch between interconnected economies that are producing global problems but no matching political process that can effect global solutions.”

The Marxist movement has long identified as one of the central contradictions of world capitalism that between the global development of the productive forces on the one hand, and the nation state system on which the legal and political superstructure is based, on the other. It is this contradiction that renders socialism, based on the development of an internationally planned economy, an historic necessity.

Just as the feudal political order had to be overthrown to make possible the growth of the productive forces under capitalism, so today the globalisation of production has made the capitalist nation-state system as reactionary and backward as the feudal principalities and kingdoms two and three centuries ago.

This contradiction erupted in the first decade of the last century in the form of World War I. It has now emerged once again, at an even higher level. It can only be resolved by the working class taking political power on a global scale; otherwise mankind faces being plunged into wars and economic crises potentially more devastating than those that characterised the first five decades of the twentieth century.

Zakaria calls for better international coordination. But the objective logic of the capitalist system itself drives events in the opposite direction. Capitalist production is carried out on a global scale. Its purpose is not to meet human needs, but to accumulate private profit.

When accumulation is expanding, the different sections of capital, as Marx noted, operate as a kind of fraternity, dividing up the spoils among themselves. When the system breaks down and it becomes no longer a question of sharing profits but of trying to avoid losses, a violent struggle breaks out.

Such a breakdown no longer simply involves intensified competitive struggles in the market, as it did in the nineteenth century, but, with the vast growth of capitalist industry and finance, economic crises inevitably bring the direct involvement of the capitalist state.

This is what occurred last year. After the collapse of Lehman Brothers in September, with the banking and financial system threatened with meltdown, every government around the world responded, not by working for globally coordinated action, but to protect its “own” banking system, leading to immediate conflicts.

In the months since, the differences have only widened. The Germans and French are hostile to the American government’s bailouts because they fear, rightly, that these will enable US banks to retain their dominant global position. The American government, for its part, opposes calls for greater regulation, because they are directed at US finance.

The British government, meanwhile, does not want to introduce tougher regulations fearing that they would endanger London’s position, described by Financial Times commentator John Plender as “the adventure playground of the global financial system.”

This brings opposition from the German government, which harboured hopes that the crisis would offer more opportunities for Frankfurt. The various industry interventions, likewise, have sharpened national rivalries. The German government’s bailout of Opel, for example, endangers operations in Belgium, even raising questions as to whether rules governing the operation of the single European market might have been breached.

As for co-ordination between the US and China to resolve international monetary imbalances, the Chinese central bank has twice called, within the past three months, for the international financial system to be restructured and the dollar replaced as the world reserve currency. Were that to take place, it would cause a rapid decline in the global position of American capitalism, which has enjoyed enormous advantages from the dollar’s role as world money.

Failing international co-operation, Zakaria warns, there will be “more crashes, and eventually there may be a retreat from globalization toward the safety—and slow growth—of protected national economies.” The development of just such a situation in the 1930s led directly to World War II. It would have even more devastating consequences today.

In the end, Zakaria concludes that a “moral crisis” may “lie at the heart of our problems”. Most of what happened over the past decade was legal but “very few people acted responsibly.” However, he continues, none of this happened because “business people have suddenly become more immoral. It is part of the opening up and growing competitiveness of the business world.”

Zakaria does not choose to develop this point, because to do so would make it all too clear that this “moral crisis” is itself an expression of the crisis of the capitalist economy.

The very processes associated with the rise of finance capital have made the dividing line between legality and illegality, not to speak of morality and immorality, ever-more blurred.

In a world of multi-million and multi-billion dollar financial transactions involving the use of complex derivatives, where the value of a financial asset can be altered by changing the value of one or other of the variables in the mathematical model on which it is based; where the more complex and obscure a financial derivative is, the greater the profit going to the seller; where vast fortunes can be made from financial gambling, and where a firm that does not employ the latest dubious methods to boost the bottom line faces being gobbled up by an asset stripper financed with junk bonds, what price ethics?

Moreover, the growth of a financial oligarchy, which dominates and controls the entire political system, means that any rational reform of the present order is impossible, even if a solution were available.

The productive forces of the global economy—the complex and powerful racing car, to use Zakaria’s analogy—created by the combined intellectual and physical labour of the world’s working class, have developed on an immense scale.

But they can no longer be left in the hands of a ruling elite that has lost the historical, political and moral right to remain at the wheel. That is why a socialist revolution, and the transfer of political power to the hands of the working class, has become a historical necessity.

Nick Beams

Attacks On Students Reveal Deeper Malaise

The recent assaults on Indian students are an expression of the deepening social crisis in Australia

Indian students have long complained of police not taking their complaints of racist attacks seriously. Reports have emerged of officers refusing to formally lodge reports of criminal incidents; one student was told to simply move to another suburb to avoid further trouble.

Surprisingly, a few days ago deputy police commissioner Kieran Walshe’s absurdly claimed that there was no evidence that recent assaults and robberies were racially motivated.

In reality, the political establishment has nothing but contempt for the well-being of ordinary students, whether they are from India, Australia, or anywhere else. The attacks have been going on for months, with nothing of substance being done or said until now.

The real concern is to ensure that the highly lucrative flow of education tuition payments into the country continues. International students are ruthlessly exploited, having to pay tens of thousands of dollars in tuition fees while being denied basic rights afforded to Australian students, such as concession fares on public transport.

Education is now worth more than $12 billion annually and ranks as Australia’s third largest export, ahead of tourism and just behind coal and iron ore. Nearly 100,000 Indian youth are studying in Australia, second in number only to those from China.

That's why Trade Minister Simon Crean has held discussions with his Indian counterpart Anand Sharma admitting his fear that recent violence threatened to undermine Australia’s education sector. “It’s not just the quality of the product, it’s the safe environment in which we bring people,” he declared.

Reactionary forces in Australia are exploiting the attacks on Indian students to advance their own agenda. Victorian Liberal leader Ted Baillieu has launched a “law and order” campaign, demanding that the government bolster police numbers and enhance their powers.

Such measures, which the state Labour government of Premier John Brumby will likely implement, will not resolve the situation confronting Indian students and will only result in even worse police harassment and violence against working class youth.

Indian students are left vulnerable because of their precarious situation. Many are unable to live anywhere near their university, due to low incomes and high inner-city accommodation costs, and are forced to travel from the more affordable outer suburbs.

To support themselves, students are typically compelled to combine full time study with long hours of paid employment as convenience store workers, taxi drivers, and other low-paid shift work. This often involves taking public transport late at night.

Most of the perpetrators of the violence against the students are reportedly young people from Melbourne’s working class western suburbs. Many parts of this region have been devastated over the last two decades by mass job losses due to manufacturing plant closures. Tens of thousands of secure and full time jobs have gone, along with apprenticeships, replaced with little more than a few dwindling opportunities for young people in low paid and typically casual sectors such as retail.

Deindustrialisation and permanently high unemployment has inevitably been accompanied by a slew of social problems, including alcohol and drug abuse. Many of those who have recently targeted Indian students were reportedly drug users looking to fund their addiction.

Intersecting with all this is a toxic political atmosphere in which the major parties have all promoted various forms of national chauvinism, invariably involving an undercurrent of White Australia racism. The Rudd Labour government, for example, has recently slashed the immigration intake in response to the economic crisis, thereby implying that lost jobs in Australia are the fault of too many “foreigners”.

At the same time, both politicians and the media have embarked on a new scare campaign over “illegal” refugees. It is no surprise, moreover, that international students have been targeted given that they have long been the victims of systematic and institutionalised discrimination in the tertiary education system. Moves are already underfoot to pre-empt any discussion of these issues.

In the final analysis the attacks on Indian students reveal the tense and violent state of social relations in contemporary capitalist Australia.

India must look after its own interests first

By Ashok Mitra

Hell has finally been let loose. It may look like the end of the capitalist order to those done in by the holocaust. Capitalism, with its feline features, has however proved it has more than nine lives. What is more legitimate to claim is the end of the officiousness of the ideology of laissez faire, which has for this long buttressed capitalism. Recent weeks have decisively settled the issue: the so-called free market does not raise human welfare to its highest possible level, allowing the animal spirit in man to roam unfettered does not lead to either an equilibrium of bliss or to the emergence of a just society, the animal spirit actually wraps within itself such evils as greed, envy, ill-will, skulduggery and a fearsome lack of moral principles.
Since luminaries from the United States of America were the most vocal votaries of the free market, it was almost inevitable for that country to be the first and severest victim of the catastrophe that has set in. The long, dismal procession of financial collapses, insolvencies, take-overs and whining pleas to the government to bail out the wrongdoers — and those at the receiving end of their wrongdoing — is almost a re-run of the Great Depression. Quite a few of those at this moment importuning with the begging bowl were, till yesterday, holier-than-thou specimens. In that sense, it has been a great leveller: the high and mighty mortgage financiers Fanny Mae and Freddie Mac, for more than a century the majordomo in investment banking Lehman Brothers, other investment banking giants such as Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs, the grand insurance conglomerate, the American International Group; the mega stockbroker Merill Lynch, have all bitten the dust. The individual tales of how they came a cropper have their specific nuances, but the basic malady is the same: overreaching ambition goading those in charge of these institutions to cut absurd corners. The entire American nation has now to pay for the sins of a collection of private sharks, big and small. Because over the past decades so much gibberish has been talked, and listened to, on the necessity of financial integration on a global scale, Europe — and Asia too, at least partially — are also at panic’s door. What in the jargon is known as the elasticity of expectations has gone haywire: since people expect the market to crash, the market is crashing — and keeps crashing — all over.

Hard times call for hard decisions. Whatever the wrench in the heart, dogmas have to be thrown into the wastebasket. Can you believe it, George W. Bush presenting himself before the world’s media and thundering in no-nonsense terms: the government must intervene in the affairs of the economy? The free market is officially buried. The State must reassume centre-stage, the treasury and the federal reserve board will be handing out rescue money right and left in order to save banking and non-banking institutions alike. Even when such entities have gone bust entirely on account of devious doings on their own part, State generosity will not be denied. After all, the survival of American capitalism is at stake. Saving a crooked and corrupt Wall Street is saving the capitalist order.

At the same time, it is being rubbed in even to the thugs in trouble, there is no free lunch. The US Congress, representing the American nation, has assumed the role of a stern taskmaster. State agencies will henceforth oversee and regulate the activities of institutions receiving government bounty. In some instances, such institutions — including banks — will have to part with a segment of their equity to these agencies, a euphemism for semi-nationalization. That is to say, American capitalism, in sackcloth and ashes, has agreed to the shackles of a regulatory regime. Even salaries and perquisites going to the executive personnel of quite a few fund-receiving institutions will be subject to public scrutiny. Margaret Thatcher’s Britain, equally hard hit by the blowing typhoon, has gone even further, to the extent of nationalizing, in full, some of its largest banks.

Will the message reach the shores of India, where the authorities, bewitched by liberalization, have been obstinately anxious to integrate the domestic financial market with miracle-making Wall Street? Render unto Caesar what belongs to Caesar: it is only determined resistance by the Left which has stood in the way of a greater exposure of our financial system to American banks and insurance firms. Notwithstanding that piece of luck, share prices here are behaving like Nervous Nellies. And this for a solid reason.

Short-term capital funds from abroad have parked in our stock exchanges in substantial quantities. Foreigners have purchased a sizeable slice of equity of not only many Indian industrial and commercial ventures, but of some of our leading banks as well. If, because of uncertainties originating in the US and Europe, these equity investments are withdrawn at an extraordinarily fast pace, it could cause a debacle in both share prices and our foreign exchange holdings. The nervousness on our bourses is largely on account of contemplation of that prospect, which can be avoided only if the authorities, without losing a moment, re-clamp restrictions on capital movements on the current account.

The neo-colonial grip on North Block is yet to slacken. Even as both Sensex and Nifty show signs of a free fall, the prime minister, his finance minister and their cronies persist in glib talk about the “strong fundamentals” of the Indian economy, a copycat version of the assertion of the US Republican presidential candidate, Senator John McCain that the American economy is “structurally sound”. Hope is being pinned exclusively on providing additional liquidity to participants in the share markets. Official verbiage continues to avoid mentioning the most crucial fact though. Foreign institutional investors at present hold around 70 billion US dollars —equivalent to Rs 350,000 crore — in Indian stocks, including equity of major banks and corporate bodies. If worst comes to the worst, foreigners could all of a sudden begin to sell short, dump these stocks, take their pickings and depart from the scene. The consequences could be frightening for share prices, the external value of the rupee and the country’s foreign exchange reserves. The Reserve Bank of India’s pump-priming would be hopelessly inadequate in that kind of a situation.

Is not what is immediately called for is, if not a total ban, at least a strict regime of controls, on taking short-term capital out of the country? Those at the helm of our affairs, overly concerned about possible negative reactions from their patrons in Washington DC to exchange control proposals, would like to perish such a thought and mumble inanities like the necessity of a global solution to a global problem. But the rude fact will not go away: finance ministers of the Western countries will lay stress on solutions which save their own skin; India and other developing countries are not at the top of their agenda.

What should worry our policy-framers is that, in case, while they do nothing, foreigners scoot with their loot, the stock markets collapse, foreign exchange assets shrink and some of the banks go under, the so-called “fundamentals” of the economy might cease to stay “strong” for any length of time. To cling to the notion of globalization together with liberalization leading us to an Arcadia would be plain silly in this season. The Americans and the Europeans are taking care of themselves, and have returned to the shelter of the State. In our country too the State has to step in and choose the most efficacious instruments, including those which foreigners disfavour: our own interests should precede the interests of foreigners.

The town cynic would conceivably chip in here. He would contribute a further argument against financial accommodation to save speculators in the stock markets. Why not let those who live by share prices, he would suggest, die by share prices too? After all, they constitute at most three per cent of the national population. Why not invest the money for an alternative purpose, for bettering the lot, for instance, of the agrarian community, which makes up close to two-thirds of the nation? That would, he would add, contribute much more towards strengthening the “fundamentals” of the economy.
(Courtesy: The Telegraph, Kolkata)
Roger And Out