rom the seventy eighth floor the view was stunning. Only the very privileged
were invited to breakfast by the chairman of Smythes Holdings, one of the
world’s largest firms with interests in banking, finance and commodity
trading.
Jonathan Fielding, Smythes’ chairman, had not lived in the UK for decades. In
spite of that he considered himself an expatriate, and was of course considered as
such by the Chinese, though his feelings for the old country were very mixed.
Pat Kennedy was his guest along with Angus MacPherson, a long-time banker
friend of Fielding‘s, an old Hong Kong hand. MacPherson, an expert China
watcher and specialist in just about everything Chinese, had been recently
appointed as INI’s Hong Kong manager. Responsible for developing business in
China, he had set up the meeting to provide Pat with some background for his fact
finding trip.
‘What is remarkable Pat,’ Fielding explained, ‘is Hong Kong has not lost its
importance as the first port of call in China. Most of our businessmen come here on
their way to Canton, and beyond. Hong Kong is a peculiar anachronism in the
affairs between England and the Middle Kingdom. It’s funny, but things haven‘t
changed that much in almost two hundred years. Ours is an often tumultuous lovehate relationship.
‘But to be honest Pat, I feel British, but this is my home, and somewhere inside I
still think of it as part of England. We built it…with the help of the Chinese,’
Fielding confided, adding with a wry smile, ‘a kind of joint venture if you like.’
‘Yesh Jonathan, tell me what the Chinese think of us today?’ Kennedy asked
turning to MacPherson.
‘England...the UK?’ replied the Scot, considering the question he had been many
times. ‘Well in general, not very much. Hong Kong is special, they’re Cantonese,
and have a view that’s different from the rest of the country. There is a certain
nostalgia about all things British amongst the better-off. They like to send their
children to school there, many of them have invested in property in London, and of
course they see London as a financial centre. The rest is the past, not very
interesting, they are turned towards China, the future.’
Kennedy was silent.
‘In general the Chinese don’t like lesson givers,’ added Fielding,
‘I see.’
‘As for myself I must admit the UK looks a mess, spoilt, spoon-fed, a nation of
F
beer drinkers obsessed by football and lousy television.’
Kennedy sunk further into his armchair.
‘The Chinese work hard,’ MacPherson told him. ‘They have to, it’s their way of
life. The UK has lived beyond its means, like a good part of Europe, not forgetting
America. Take our industry! What we haven’t shut down we’ve sold off to
foreigners, we’re no longer a manufacturing nation.’
‘You did mention the City.’
‘The City is like HSBC,’ said Fielding, ‘It could pull up its roots and move
somewhere. Look at banking back home, it’s a terrible mess, as Angus will tell
you, would you put your money in one of those nationalized outfits.’
‘Well we’ve come out of the crisis fairly unscathed,’ said Kennedy meaning the
INI Banking Group.
‘So you have,’ said Fielding approvingly. 'On top of that Michael’s made a good
choice by taking on Angus,’ he added nodding towards the Scot.
Kennedy smiled, the decision had been to a large degree his own.
‘He’ll help you avoid the problems most newcomers encounter.’
Kennedy’s smile fell, feeling a little miffed at being bundled in with what he took
to be the naïf, which was what he was.
‘It’s not as bad as that Pat,’ said Fielding amused at Kennedy’s transparency,
slapped him on the knee. ‘But it’s not far from the truth.’
‘Come along Pat I’ll show you Hong Kong’s business centre, the part tourists
don’t see, but first leave your jacket and tie here, I’ll have them dropped off at your
hotel. We’ll take the ferry and metro…incognito,’ he said amused by Kennedy’s
disconcerted look.
MacPherson gave a nod of approval to Pat, then excused himself to attend to an
investment meeting with a prominent mainland investor.
From the poop deck of his luxurious traditional teak junk, Fielding pointed out
the new towers shimmering in the sun on the Kowloon skyline. As they made a
tour of Victoria Harbour, Kennedy breathed in the sea air, relieved for once to be
away from the bustle of the crowds and the roar of the traffic, feeling more relaxed.
‘Tell me Pat how do you read the euro crisis?’
‘It’s a long story, a saga…more a soap.’
‘I suppose Ireland’s out of the woods for the moment?’
‘Yes, for the moment.’
‘What would happen if Greece defaults?’
‘Well I suppose the Greek banks would go bust and end up nationalized. If
they’re forced to quit the euro then their new money ― drachmas or whatever ―
would be worth less than half the euro. That would mean disaster for every Greek.’
‘…revolution?’
‘Or coup d’état.’
‘…and those who held Greek debt?’
‘A skinhead style haircut,’ he laughed. ‘Ireland and Portugal would probably
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follow suit. As for us banks both British and European it would be a rout with
nationalizations across the board.’
‘That bad?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
‘So what would happen…I mean to the financial system?’
‘Printing presses and hyperinflation.’
‘What about China?’
‘China is a strange place Pat. Let me give you an example, the Prada IPO. They
were looking for twenty billion dollars to finance its expansion in Asia, they were
over-subscribed five times.’
‘I saw it on the business news.’
‘What does it mean to you Pat?’
‘There’s a lot of money floating about.’
‘Absolutely, China is awash in cash.’
‘I’ve heard that a lot of money is laundered in Macao.’
‘Yes, I’m afraid so. That’s the other side of the coin. Corruption!’
‘So it’s not all as bright as you describe,’ said Kennedy pleased to find something
to slow down the smug businessman.
‘Nothing is perfect,’ snapped Fielding.
‘Who are they,’ Kennedy asked wondering if there wasn’t some kind of
opportunity there.
‘Communist Party cadres, state-owned company executives, police, even judicial
and customs officials,’ admitted Fielding. ‘They’ve all been busy transferring
funds out of the country as fast as they can. Some have employed sophisticated
money-laundering systems, with the complicity of the country’s banks, others
through Macao casinos, or simply by smuggling money into Hong Kong.’
Kennedy watched the ferries as they churned their way across the harbour.
‘Let me show you something Pat,’ said Fielding taking the opportunity to change
the subject. He pointed to the open after-deck dining area where they took a seat.
As Fielding made a sign to a white jacketed waiter who served them coffee,
Kennedy observed the Chinese captain, hands on the wheel, attentive to the heavy
harbour traffic.
Fielding then pulled a map from his pocket and spread it on the table. ‘This area
is twice the size of Wales,’ he said tracing an area with his Montblanc, from Hong
Kong to Canton in the north, Zhaoqing in the west and Huizhou in the east.’
Kennedy looked on wondering what new mega-fact Fielding was about to reveal,
he was quickly getting used to China’s superlatives and vast schemes.
‘Here, in this area, around the Pearl River Delta, China is planning to create the
world’s biggest megapolis merging nine cities together to create a city with a
population of more than forty million…not including Hong Kong and Macao
where there are a further eight million.’
Kennedy grunted, it was beyond his comprehension, not on a human scale. He
imagined it as an ants nest full of workers fighting for survival.
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197
‘This is China’s manufacturing heartland, it represents nearly a tenth of the
Chinese economy,’ said Fielding spouting on about infrastructure, energy, water,
transport, telecoms, health care and education.
Kennedy pictured the energy needs and the pollution and knew why those
billionaires would feel happier in London.
‘How do I get to Wenzhou?’ asked Pat feeling he had had enough.
‘Wen…where?’
‘Wenzhou.’
Fielding was puzzled. Perhaps it was Kennedy’s lisping Irish accent.
Then he pulled a visiting card from his wallet. It was printed in Russian and
Chinese.
‘Ah Wenzhou!’
I have a friend there…well his family. I promised him I would visit them.
‘Ha-ha. Be careful Pat, they are very clever business people, they are the Jews of
the East.’
‘Do you think it’s worth learning Chinese?’ asked Pat flipping the pages of his
Mandarin for Tourist’s phrasebook.
‘A Chinese language teacher once asked me why I wanted to learn Chinese,’
replied Fielding. ‘I of course replied that it would be useful as it was the most
spoken language in the world.’
Pat nodded in agreement.
‘You know what she said?’
Pat shrugged now suspecting there was a catch.
‘She then asked me with whom I would speak the language. Well, I must have
looked blank, because she then explained how Chinese differs from English,’ he
paused for effect. ‘English opens the world, Chinese opens China.’
‘Well there’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘Sure, but the point is that even if the British are notoriously poor in foreign
languages, they can communicate with the world in a way non-English speakers
can’t, that’s worth remembering.’
Pat was none the wiser. He spoke English, and it didn’t help him when it came to
the Chinese, in fact it made him feel very vulnerable.