Friday, May 29, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Cuomo's Matrix Of Corruption
The corruption of pension funds by private interest is hardly a new phenomenon. Las Vegas after all was largely built with money from the Teamster’s Central States Pension Fund, with the intermediary Sidney Korshak, a mob- connected lawyer, channeling a large part of it to casino owners. Korshak himself was never conducted of any wrongdoing, but Jimmy Hoffa, the President of the International Teamster Union, was imprisoned on corruption charges in 1971, Then, after getting a pardon from President Nixon in 1974, he literally disappeared without a trace (his body, according to the latest FBI theory, had been cremated by his associates in organized crime). Today, Pension fund financing is a far more respectable and civilized industry. It is also vastly richer, with pension fund s holding over $2.7 trillion in assets, and providing private equity firms with the most of the capital they use for their leveraged buy-outs, real estate acquisitions and other ventures. In return for allowing pension funds to participate in their deals, the private equity firms exact lucrative fees, taking both a percent of their total investment– typically two percent per year– and part of the profits– usually 20 percent of each successful deal. In 2008, the ten largest pension funds had allocated $105 billion to such private equity deals, creating a veritable El Dorado. To mine this mother lode, private equity firm had to first access to the functionaries at the pension fund who controlled these allocations, and while there is no single powerful intermediary in the class of Sydney Korshak, there are legions of less visible intermediaries called, "placement agents," who use their political contacts, financial experience, powers of persuasion, and other means to extract pension fund money for private equity firms. Indeed, it is now a multi-billion dollar industry. In return for inducing pension fund officials to invest in such deals, they get a cut from the private equity firm of usually between 1 and 3 percent of the total commitment. Since placement agents gets nothing if they fails, they have a powerful incentive to do what is necessary to close the deal. The question currently concerning New York State Attorney-General Andrew Cuomo, the SEC, and some 36 other state attorneys general law is: how do they accomplish their amazing feat of inducement?
According to Cuomo, who is spearheading the investigation, there is " a matrix of corruption, which grows more expansive and interconnected by the day." So far six people have been charged criminally and two people have pleaded guilty. Among those charged with "enterprise corruption" are Henry "Hank" Morris, and his friend David J. Loglisci. Morris, a former top aide to former New York Comptroller Alan Hevesi, who was in charge of New York’s $122 billion pension, raked in at least $15 million dollars in "placement" fees from private equity firms. Former deputy comptroller Loglisci, the top investment officer of the state’s pension fund, allegedly got paid from Morris and also had private equity firms steer money into a curious movie venture called "Chooch he and his brother produced, and whose plot, aptly enough, concerns a bag of mystery money. Both Morris and Loglisci deny any wrong doing and are currently awaiting trial.
Cuomo’s game plan, according to one lawyer knowledgeable about the investigation, is "to work his way up the food chain." This strategy, as the lawyer explained, involves making deals with less-culpable parties in return for their cooperation and testimony against other private equity firms whose real exposure comes not from their making payments to placement agents, which is perfectly legal in most states, but from their failure to disclose them or, even worse. "disguising them" as sham transactions.
Consider the recent guilty plea of placement agent Julio Ramirez Jr. to a misdemeanor securities fraud violation. According to Cuomo’s office, Ramirez, , who worked for the placement agent Wetherly Capital Group in Los Angeles, entered into a "corrupt arrangement" with Hank Morris to get private equity firms $50 million in investments from New York's $122 billion Common Retirement Fund. Ramirez then split his fees with Morris, but did not disclose Morris’ involvement. Since that omission made him vulnerable to prosecution, he elected to cooperating with the Cuomo’s investigation, further tightening the prosecutorial vice on Hank Morris.
Cuomo also made settlements with the Carlyle Group, one of the nation’s largest private equity firms and Riverstone Holding a private equity company headed by David M. Leuschen. Their joint venture had paid $10 million to Hank Morris’ firm for its help in getting it $730 million in investments from the New York Pension fund. Leuschen, had also invested $100,000 of his own money in the movie Chooch, a movie venture that involved David Loglisci, the chief investment officer of that pension fund. Since the joint venture had fully disclosed its payments to Morris’s firm and could claim that it was not involved in Leuschen’s personal investment in the Chooch investment, Cuomo made a deal with both Carlyle and Riverstone in which each paid a fine– Carlyle $20 million and Riverstone $30 million and agreed not to use placements agents in any future deals and to fully cooperate in the ongoing investigation. In addition, Carlyle, issued statement saying that it "was victimized by Hank Morris's alleged web of deceit." It also moved to sue both him and his company for more than $15 million in damages, further racheting up the pressure on Morris to make a deal. The settlement did not include Leuschen, who is still, according to Cuomo, "under investigation." It also does not bode well the 20 other investment firms ensnared in Cuomo’s Matrix. The Quadrangle Group, for example, paid Morris placement multi-million dollar fees for assisting it get pension fund money in New York, New Mexico, and California and also invested money in the mysterious Chooch venture. But, unlike Carlyle and Riverstone, Quadrangle failed to disclose it’s the fees it paid Morris’ company to New York City Pension Fund and the Los Angeles Fire and Police Pensions Fund. Nor can it separate itself from its Chooch investment by, as Carlyle and Riverstone did, shifting responsibility to a personal investment, since it had one of its own private equity holdings buy the video rights to movie. One possible problem for Cuomo– as well as the SEC investigation is the prominence of Quadrangle’s then chairman Steven Rattner, who in 2009 became a key member of President Obama’s task force that is presently desperately working to save General Motors and the American car industry.
But Cuomo has pledged that "The investigation will continue until we have unearthed all aspects of this scheme." As he is both a tenacious– and ambitious investigator, he will undoubtedly topple more dominoes as he proceeds up the food chain . But will he break the matrix of corruption? Stay tuned.
According to Cuomo, who is spearheading the investigation, there is " a matrix of corruption, which grows more expansive and interconnected by the day." So far six people have been charged criminally and two people have pleaded guilty. Among those charged with "enterprise corruption" are Henry "Hank" Morris, and his friend David J. Loglisci. Morris, a former top aide to former New York Comptroller Alan Hevesi, who was in charge of New York’s $122 billion pension, raked in at least $15 million dollars in "placement" fees from private equity firms. Former deputy comptroller Loglisci, the top investment officer of the state’s pension fund, allegedly got paid from Morris and also had private equity firms steer money into a curious movie venture called "Chooch he and his brother produced, and whose plot, aptly enough, concerns a bag of mystery money. Both Morris and Loglisci deny any wrong doing and are currently awaiting trial.
Cuomo’s game plan, according to one lawyer knowledgeable about the investigation, is "to work his way up the food chain." This strategy, as the lawyer explained, involves making deals with less-culpable parties in return for their cooperation and testimony against other private equity firms whose real exposure comes not from their making payments to placement agents, which is perfectly legal in most states, but from their failure to disclose them or, even worse. "disguising them" as sham transactions.
Consider the recent guilty plea of placement agent Julio Ramirez Jr. to a misdemeanor securities fraud violation. According to Cuomo’s office, Ramirez, , who worked for the placement agent Wetherly Capital Group in Los Angeles, entered into a "corrupt arrangement" with Hank Morris to get private equity firms $50 million in investments from New York's $122 billion Common Retirement Fund. Ramirez then split his fees with Morris, but did not disclose Morris’ involvement. Since that omission made him vulnerable to prosecution, he elected to cooperating with the Cuomo’s investigation, further tightening the prosecutorial vice on Hank Morris.
Cuomo also made settlements with the Carlyle Group, one of the nation’s largest private equity firms and Riverstone Holding a private equity company headed by David M. Leuschen. Their joint venture had paid $10 million to Hank Morris’ firm for its help in getting it $730 million in investments from the New York Pension fund. Leuschen, had also invested $100,000 of his own money in the movie Chooch, a movie venture that involved David Loglisci, the chief investment officer of that pension fund. Since the joint venture had fully disclosed its payments to Morris’s firm and could claim that it was not involved in Leuschen’s personal investment in the Chooch investment, Cuomo made a deal with both Carlyle and Riverstone in which each paid a fine– Carlyle $20 million and Riverstone $30 million and agreed not to use placements agents in any future deals and to fully cooperate in the ongoing investigation. In addition, Carlyle, issued statement saying that it "was victimized by Hank Morris's alleged web of deceit." It also moved to sue both him and his company for more than $15 million in damages, further racheting up the pressure on Morris to make a deal. The settlement did not include Leuschen, who is still, according to Cuomo, "under investigation." It also does not bode well the 20 other investment firms ensnared in Cuomo’s Matrix. The Quadrangle Group, for example, paid Morris placement multi-million dollar fees for assisting it get pension fund money in New York, New Mexico, and California and also invested money in the mysterious Chooch venture. But, unlike Carlyle and Riverstone, Quadrangle failed to disclose it’s the fees it paid Morris’ company to New York City Pension Fund and the Los Angeles Fire and Police Pensions Fund. Nor can it separate itself from its Chooch investment by, as Carlyle and Riverstone did, shifting responsibility to a personal investment, since it had one of its own private equity holdings buy the video rights to movie. One possible problem for Cuomo– as well as the SEC investigation is the prominence of Quadrangle’s then chairman Steven Rattner, who in 2009 became a key member of President Obama’s task force that is presently desperately working to save General Motors and the American car industry.
But Cuomo has pledged that "The investigation will continue until we have unearthed all aspects of this scheme." As he is both a tenacious– and ambitious investigator, he will undoubtedly topple more dominoes as he proceeds up the food chain . But will he break the matrix of corruption? Stay tuned.
(Updated June 12)
Friday, May 08, 2009
The Amazing Chrysler Trick
The latest casualty of the economic crises is the Rule of Law.
Consider the sad case of Chrysler. Its troubles became manifest in 2007,
when it was owned by the German auto giant, Daimler, and it was unable to come to terms with the United Auto Workers labor union (UAW). Rather than suffer more losses from an unfavorable union contract, Daimler decided to rid itself of Chrysler by handing over 80 percent of its ownership to Cerberus Capital Management, a private equity fund named after the mythical creature guarding the doors of hell. After Cerberus agreed to keep the car company going, Chrysler celebrated with a huge fireworks display and acrobats swinging on ropes from its roof at its headquarters in Auburn Hills, Michigan. Chrysler then borrowed $10 billion from a banking syndicate, led by J.P. Morgan Chase, Citigroup, and Goldman Sachs, to fund its operations. The loan was secured by mortgages on Chrysler's real estate,manufacturing plants, patents, and highly profitable brand licensing rights (Jeep alone earned $250 million a year licensing its name to toys, clothes,and other products.)
The lenders assumed (incorrectly, as it turned out) that their secured loan which was senior to any other Chrysler debt, would be protected even if Chrysler went bankrupt, since the iron rule of bankruptcy held that secured loans get fully paid before unsecured loans. Without this rule, financiers would be reluctant to lend money to corporations on their assets. What these lenders had not reckoned on was the political power of the UAW, especially after the 2008 Democratic landslide.
Consider the sad case of Chrysler. Its troubles became manifest in 2007,
when it was owned by the German auto giant, Daimler, and it was unable to come to terms with the United Auto Workers labor union (UAW). Rather than suffer more losses from an unfavorable union contract, Daimler decided to rid itself of Chrysler by handing over 80 percent of its ownership to Cerberus Capital Management, a private equity fund named after the mythical creature guarding the doors of hell. After Cerberus agreed to keep the car company going, Chrysler celebrated with a huge fireworks display and acrobats swinging on ropes from its roof at its headquarters in Auburn Hills, Michigan. Chrysler then borrowed $10 billion from a banking syndicate, led by J.P. Morgan Chase, Citigroup, and Goldman Sachs, to fund its operations. The loan was secured by mortgages on Chrysler's real estate,manufacturing plants, patents, and highly profitable brand licensing rights (Jeep alone earned $250 million a year licensing its name to toys, clothes,and other products.)
The lenders assumed (incorrectly, as it turned out) that their secured loan which was senior to any other Chrysler debt, would be protected even if Chrysler went bankrupt, since the iron rule of bankruptcy held that secured loans get fully paid before unsecured loans. Without this rule, financiers would be reluctant to lend money to corporations on their assets. What these lenders had not reckoned on was the political power of the UAW, especially after the 2008 Democratic landslide.
With automobile manufacturing shifting from the unionized factories of the Big Three– Chrysler, General Motors, and Ford– to the non-unionized factories owned by foreign manufacturers, including those of Toyota, the UAW was rightly concerned that it would lose its grip on the automotive industry. Already, in 2008, these non-union factories‹located mainly in traditionally Red, or Republican, states whose "right-to-work" laws prevented employees from being forced to join a union‹were selling almost as many passenger cars in America as the Big Three. So if Chrysler was allowed to collapse, the UAW stood to lose heavily. As
did the Blue states in the Midwest where its factories are located. So the
UAW had little difficulty in rallying massive support for a rescue among the Democratic leadership of both the House and Senate. By February. President Obama had appointed investment banker Steven Rattner to head his auto task force and come up with a plan.
The solution that Rattner (aka the car czar) endorsed involved dividing Chrysler into two companies‹an old Chrysler, which would be saddled with the debts, and disappear, and a new Chrysler, to which all the valuable assets would be assigned, including those that had been mortgaged to the senior secured creditors.
did the Blue states in the Midwest where its factories are located. So the
UAW had little difficulty in rallying massive support for a rescue among the Democratic leadership of both the House and Senate. By February. President Obama had appointed investment banker Steven Rattner to head his auto task force and come up with a plan.
The solution that Rattner (aka the car czar) endorsed involved dividing Chrysler into two companies‹an old Chrysler, which would be saddled with the debts, and disappear, and a new Chrysler, to which all the valuable assets would be assigned, including those that had been mortgaged to the senior secured creditors.
The new Chrysler would be owned by the UAW, which would get 55 percent of the shares; Fiat, the Italian manufacturer, which would be get 20 percent, with the option of increasing its ownership to 35 percent if it conformed to the targets imposed by the U.S. government; and the U.S. government, which would get most of the remaining shares. Fiat would essentially run the company, supplying its small-car technology and its management (even though, on previous occasions, its managerial efforts in America proved unsuccessful.) The new deal is a win-win for Fiat, since it is not investing any money in the new Chrysler, and can walk away without a penalty.
But what of the people who lent the old Chrysler money secured by its
assets? According to the rules of bankruptcy, they were entitled to be paid
the full $6.9 billion they'd lent the old Chrysler before those assets could be shifted to the new Chrysler‹and before the unsecured creditors, including the UAW's pension fund and auto-part suppliers could be paid a cent. That was not in the car czar's game plan, however, Instead, the creditors were confronted with a take-it-or-else offer of 29 cents on the dollar,
substantially less than the unsecured creditors would receive. (The UAW's
fund, for example, would receive an implied 55 cents on the dollar.) The "else" turned out to be what President Obama described as a "surgical bankruptcy" for Chrysler in a pre-selected U.S. bankruptcy court. Here the administration was able to play its ace in the hole. The four bank that held 70 percent of these loans, namely Citigroup, Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, and JP Morgan Chase, all had received government bailout money, making them vulnerable to government reprisals. So while denouncing hold-outs as "speculators" and "obstructionists" or, as one Congressman from Michigan termed them, "vultures", it was not difficult for officials to strong-arm these banks into accepting the deal.
Using these tactics, Chrysler was able to secure the support of more than two-thirds of its creditors. Once that threshold had been crossed, U.S. bankruptcy judge Arthur Gonzales was within his rights to force the remaining creditors to approve the plan.
Whether or not this extraordinary intervention saves Chrysler, which lost a
staggering $16.8 billion in 2008, remains an open question. After all, even
Fiast's organizational skills may not be enough to persuade
American consumers to buy cars from a company emerging from bankruptcy, especially since its much-heralded small-car technology, meanwhile, will not appear until 2012.
But the consequences of upending the rule of law, even if it was done with
the best of intentions, may prove far more serious than whatever befalls
Chrysler in the Rustbelt. For one thing, it will undoubtedly become far more difficult for an American corporation to borrow money on its assets, since even a senior secured lender can no longer be sure his claim will take priority over those of labor unions and other unsecured creditors.
As one savvy investment banker told me, "Now that we live in a banana
republic, secured lending is anything but secure."
But what of the people who lent the old Chrysler money secured by its
assets? According to the rules of bankruptcy, they were entitled to be paid
the full $6.9 billion they'd lent the old Chrysler before those assets could be shifted to the new Chrysler‹and before the unsecured creditors, including the UAW's pension fund and auto-part suppliers could be paid a cent. That was not in the car czar's game plan, however, Instead, the creditors were confronted with a take-it-or-else offer of 29 cents on the dollar,
substantially less than the unsecured creditors would receive. (The UAW's
fund, for example, would receive an implied 55 cents on the dollar.) The "else" turned out to be what President Obama described as a "surgical bankruptcy" for Chrysler in a pre-selected U.S. bankruptcy court. Here the administration was able to play its ace in the hole. The four bank that held 70 percent of these loans, namely Citigroup, Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, and JP Morgan Chase, all had received government bailout money, making them vulnerable to government reprisals. So while denouncing hold-outs as "speculators" and "obstructionists" or, as one Congressman from Michigan termed them, "vultures", it was not difficult for officials to strong-arm these banks into accepting the deal.
Using these tactics, Chrysler was able to secure the support of more than two-thirds of its creditors. Once that threshold had been crossed, U.S. bankruptcy judge Arthur Gonzales was within his rights to force the remaining creditors to approve the plan.
Whether or not this extraordinary intervention saves Chrysler, which lost a
staggering $16.8 billion in 2008, remains an open question. After all, even
Fiast's organizational skills may not be enough to persuade
American consumers to buy cars from a company emerging from bankruptcy, especially since its much-heralded small-car technology, meanwhile, will not appear until 2012.
But the consequences of upending the rule of law, even if it was done with
the best of intentions, may prove far more serious than whatever befalls
Chrysler in the Rustbelt. For one thing, it will undoubtedly become far more difficult for an American corporation to borrow money on its assets, since even a senior secured lender can no longer be sure his claim will take priority over those of labor unions and other unsecured creditors.
As one savvy investment banker told me, "Now that we live in a banana
republic, secured lending is anything but secure."
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