Category: Politics

  • A Tale of Two Countries

    Once upon a time there were two small island countries with really high standards of living, really boring politics, and highly open financial sectors. Each of them had a pretty concentrated banking sector (one of them had three domestic private banks, the other four) featuring stable banks that offered high rates of return on deposits and investments. Each had an open capital account (meaning that you can move money in and out of the country with no restrictions) and a stable but officially floating exchange rates. The barriers between politicians and banking sector elites were
    basically non-existent: politicians and bankers had close personal and business relationships. People from all over the region felt safe investing in these little island countries' assets, and around the world financial analysts praised them for their sound financial and macroeconomic policies. 

    In one of them (Country A), though, banks took advantage of what is known as the carry trade: they borrowed at low interest rates overseas, converted those loans into the local currency, then lent out at high interest rates at home. The difference (adjusted for the exchange rate) is pure profit for the banks. So long as the local economy kept going (and so long as they could keep getting those cheap loans overseas) that system would work just fine. Then one day the global economy had a little blip: the subprime mortgage crisis made lenders just a little less likely to lend. So the banks in Country A had to pull back a little on their lending at home to make sure they had cash to pay back their existing foreign debts. But when that happened, the local economy slowed down. Now, the banks found it harder to make back the money that they needed to pay back their loans. Now it wasn't about the carry trade anymore, it was just trying to stay above water. So they lent out a little less and kept borrowing abroad in the hope that the slowdown at home was temporary. It wasn't. The entire system quickly came to a halt, then fell apart. The currency collapsed. The economy collapsed. They had to call in the IMF, which everybody knows is a baaaad sign. The banks are gone, unemployment is through the roof, and the entire economy is left wondering where to go from here.

    In the other (Country B), banks decided not to do this. As a result, they chugged along happily during the crisis while financial institutions in Country A collapsed. The overall economy in Country B took a hit due to decreased demand for its exports elsewhere in the world, but it wasn't too bad. No one had to call the IMF. All the banks are still there. 

    If you haven't guessed yet, surprise! Country A is Iceland, Country B is Singapore. I would love to have some sort of answer to the obvious question: why did Singapore get it so right when Iceland got it so wrong? One answer is "regulation" but that's just restating the question: why did Icelandic regulators fail so miserably while Singaporean ones succeeded? And remember, both countries have (or if you're Iceland, had) really concentrated banking sectors that had all sorts of irregular links to politics worked closely with the political establishment. One answer is that banks in Singapore are all old family businesses, while banks in Iceland were new and naive. Another is that the bankers in Iceland were idiots and the bankers in Singapore are smart. I'm not sure, but I'd like to know.

    5-26-10

  • Not Going to Bangkok

    A good friend of mine is currently in Bangkok doing some exploratory field research (he studies how politicians mobilize the poor). There was a point a couple months ago when we considered whether or not it would be possible for us to meet up while I was here, with me flying up there to see him. Needless to say, we’ve decided that that’s not a good idea. Too bad, because I’ve never been to Bangkok before, but visiting there right now is really flirting with disaster.

    From time to time I get asked what the conflict in Thailand is all about. That’s one of those questions that seems like it has a simple answer, but if you really start digging you realize how hard it is to boil it down to something simple. The proximate issue is the legacy of former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra, who was extremely popular among poor and rural citizens but who alienated the middle- and upper-class establishments, in particular in Bangkok. Thaksin was also widely accused of being corrupt (he is fantastically rich), and of being too violent in his campaigns against drug dealers and other enemies of Thai society (he was once a policeman). Thaksin was ousted by a coup in 2006; when the military allowed new elections, a candidate widely considered to be a Thaksin proxy won. Anti-Thaksin groups (“yellow shirts”) eventually mobilized big demonstrations that led to that new government’s ouster, with the help of some of their allies in the courts. The current PM, Abhisit Vejjajiva, represents the yellow shirt faction. Now, pro-Thaksin groups (“red shirts”) who believe the current political order to be illegitimate, are trying to bring the current government down. At the moment, it appears that they have failed…but no one thinks that this is over.

    Red Shirt Rally (source: Straits Times)

    5-20-10

     

    It’s tempting to say, then, that this all starts with Thaksin, that it’s a debate about his legacy. But it goes at least two levels deeper. The first level is about money and representation in Thai politics. The establishment in Thailand since, well, the 1600s or so has had a heavy bias towards comparatively well-to-do urban constituencies. Poor, rural Thais, especially those in the northeast, have always felt marginalized. Thaksin was the first national politician whose policies really targeted those marginalized Thais, and that made him genuinely popular. And because politics is a zero-sum game, strengthening this marginalized group means threatening the urban middle-class establishment. I have no doubt that if Thaksin were allowed to return to Thailand and to compete in another election, he would win handily.

    The second level, though, is about what democratic theorists call “loyal opposition.” Stable, consolidated democracies have what are known as loyal oppositions–factions that lose election but who don’t then overthrow the system in response to having lost. They are the opposition, but they are loyal to the principles of political competition. Thailand has never developed a system whereby the losing side (whoever it is) respects the outcome as legitimate. That means that someone always believes that the system is illegitimate, and will take to the streets to push for revolutionary change. I suspect that the main reason why a norm of loyal opposition never developed is because the Thai king has for too long intervened in Thai politics to solve intractable problems by fiat rather than forcing Thai politicians to come to acceptable agreements on their own. Oh, and the fact that the Thai military keeps launching coups (after Bolivia, no country has had more) doesn’t help either. Instead of working to come to acceptable agreements, both sides look to the king, the military, or both, to solve their problems for them.

    Combine the absence of a norm of loyal opposition with severe imbalances in representation, an old king who is too willing to step into politics, a coup-happy military, and a popular (if flawed) former leader, and you have the recipe for a never-ending war of attrition between two camps that sincerely believe that their opponents have no right to participate in any kind of legitimate government. This gets worse before it gets better.