By Tom Plate
On the surface, it's hard to understand why
Donald Tsang, Hongkong's respected financial secretary, is not smiling.
The regional economic landscape in Asia looks less battered every day,
and there is a whiff of financial reform in the air.
But the Harvard-educated Mr Tsang, in the
US for a round of talks with investors and some image-polishing for Hongkong,
is still raising red flags about the dangers of rapacious Western speculative
funds on smaller, vulnerable economies.
He is among the most prominent Asian leaders
to argue that there is an untamed monster loose on the world stage in the
form of speculative dollars looking to make a score against a less-than-perfect
currency or stock market.
Mr Tsang believes the potency of that monster
is under-appreciated by the most powerful nations (the only ones, as fate
would have it, with the global clout to deflect speculative excesses).
Predicts Mr Tsang: "Two or three years from now, we will face the same
thing again -- sitting around the table, beating our chests, singing the
same tune, talking about the same tragic stories."
There is precedent. In 1927, American triumphalists
of that age were proclaiming "a new era without depressions", as the financial
newspaper Barrons then put it. Five years later, the gross national product
(GNP) of America had fallen 60 per cent and the value of American stocks
had shrunk to one-tenth of their peak 1929 worth.
So, listening to this 55-year-old policy
wonk talk about Hongkong's own brush with catastrophe is like listening
to some octogenarian survivor of America's own Great Crash.
Last summer, Mr Tsang helped orchestrate a sneak counterattack against speculative fund groups that were sucking huge profits out of Hongkong's economy. He essentially used Hongkong's monetary reserves to buy stocks on the Hongkong market, shoring it up to discourage speculative raiders from betting on a continued slide in stock prices and the Hongkong currency. Mr Tsang believes that large speculative funds are a great contemporary financial Leviathan still out there gathering new force and threatening to reduce economic life to a Hobbesian state -- solitary, nasty, brutish. "What's worrying to me is the free flow of capital occurring in the dark," he says.
Mr Tsang and other globalisation revisionists would require the same degree of public disclosure for so-called hedge funds as is required of public mutual funds. "Flow's important, that's a lifeblood. But flows totally in the dark, not knowing what they're carrying -- viruses or carcinogens into the national economic system, we have no idea -- that's what's worrying," he says.
Mr Tsang's critics believe he is just making excuses for seriously flawed Asian economies that deserve to be attacked in order to shape them up. He agrees that Hongkong has its problems, notably wildly inflated real estate and asset prices, not to mention the wariness caused by China's takeover. But he insists that speculative attacks can cripple any economy, except those as huge as Japan's or the United States' or the European Union's: "The question is whether we want the same problem to repeat itself again and again and again. "And the problem will emerge again; it will. But not in Hongkong . . . people know we will play dirty at times." But he'd prefer to see more international intervention to prevent chaos.
Why not simply let the international markets sort out these problems without intervention? "Yes, the markets will smooth things out," he replied, "but in the process they will smother some markets and overturn countries. "It will change your politics overnight -- good governments, bad governments alike. Is this the kind of world we want? There is no perfect economy on earth. No economy reaches a state of totally balanced equilibrium."
Mr Tsang is right: without new international ways of monitoring speculative waves, the efforts of all national economies to clean up their own internal acts simply with better banking systems and more disclosure won't be enough to ward off another regional, if not world, crash. Mr Tsang wishes the International Monetary Fund (IMF), the obvious world banker of last resort, were not so dysfunctionally underfunded: "Once a financial crisis starts, IMF passes the hat around (to contributing governments), but that starts the problem, because then everyone wants to leave the boat (of the troubled economy)."
But if America, the world leader, is opposed,
or even indifferent, to his line of thought, how far will Mr Tsang and
like-minded reformers get? "Not very," he snapped. "The tragedy is that
international efforts may degenerate into regional efforts, and regional
efforts may degenerate into individual national efforts. This means everyone
for himself."
His is a scary, perhaps even econometrically
neurotic vision -- but what if Donald Tsang, the Hobbesian pessimist, is
right?
"There will always be some bubble, somewhere, or sign of underdevelopment in some other area, that will make you vulnerable to rumour-mongering by speculators who want to attack you," he says. For Mr Tsang, the world is playing a self-destructive game of greed roulette.
Donald Tsang is a Hobbesian pessimist who'd
like to see more international intervention to prevent widespread financial
chaos