[Congressional Record Volume 141, Number 15 (Wednesday, January 25, 1995)]
[House]
[Pages H657-H658]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]
PREDICTIONS OF DISASTER
(Ms. KAPTUR asked and was given permission to address the House for 1
minute and to revise and extend her remarks and include extraneous
matter.)
Ms. KAPTUR. Mr. Speaker, the administration claims it knew nothing of
the pending financial disaster in Mexico. Mexico's administration
claims it knew nothing.
Let me remind both administrations of what they certainly did know.
Both the Mexican and the United States Governments knew the truth about
the shaky peso and United States speculators' interests down south for
at least 2 years before the meltdown. As reported by the Wall Street
Journal during the NAFTA debate, the two governments went so far as to
negotiate a secret line of credit worth $6 billion because of the
pending financial crisis in Mexico. Both governments knew; both
governments kept it quiet.
Now Congress is expected to remain muzzled with truncated committee
hearings and limited debate.
Congress cannot remain silent. Let the truth come out before we vote
no on this taxpayer bailout of Wall Street speculators in foreign
countries.
Mr. Speaker, the Wall Street Journal article to which I referred is
as follows:
[From the Wall Street Journal Mar. 28, 1994]
How Mexico's Behind-the-Scenes Tactics and a Secret Pact Averted Market
Panic
(By Craig Torres)
Mexico City.--The muted reaction in Mexican stock and
currency markets Friday after the assassination of
presidential candidate Luis Donaldo Colosio was no accident--
but it also wasn't guaranteed.
A panic developed among investors right after the slaying
and could have sent the markets tumbling. But Mexican
authorities managed to maintain calm through a once-secret
agreement with the U.S. Treasury and a complex mix of moral
suasion and vague threats to investors who might have
profited from a panic.
This is the story of that effort.
At 9:30 p.m. in Mexico City last Wednesday--2\1/2\ hours
after the assassination, Jose Angel Gurria, head of the
powerful development bank Nacional Financiera, and several of
Mexico's most senior financial officials were assembling at 2
Arturo Street, a colonial mansion converted into Finance
Ministry offices.
Mr. Gurria and everyone else in the room knew Mr. Colosio
was dead, even though the government hadn't yet acknowledged
that to the world, knowing the panic that could be created
when the news was let out, Mr. Gurria reflected that either
Mexico was about to prove the strength of its financial team,
or the markets would send Mexico into chaos.
``It was like Colosio's body was lying on the table'' in
front of the group, he says. ``We knew we had a job to do.''
Mexican financial markets were already fragile. Economic
growth in 1993 registered a pathetic 0.4%. The Chiapas
peasant revolt, the kidnapping of a well-known executive and
surprising rifts within the ruling party
[[Page H658]] had all raised questions about social stability. Stocks
had tumbled in recent weeks, and the peso was down 8.1% against the
dollar this year.
As calls poured into the Finance Ministry and Banco de
Mexico, the central bank, it became clear that there could be
a full-fledged run against the peso.
Speculators were looking for ways to sell the peso short, a
bet on its decline. Mexican banks, while friendlier to the
government than foreign investors, would clearly dump pesos
to protect themselves and make a profit, if they had to. In
addition, the Finance Ministry knew that Japanese banks and
corporations had already been unloading huge positions in
peso securities to raise cash and dress up year-end financial
statements. A currency crisis could spark further huge sales
by the Japanese.
However, Hacienda, as the Finance Ministry is know, had a
secret weapon.
Just before the North American Free Trade Agreement debate
between Ross Perot and Vice President Al Gore, Hacienda's
undersecretary of finance, Guillermo Ortiz, had quietly
negotiated a $6 billion swap line with the U.S. Treasury. The
idea was to give the Mexican central bank more dollars to use
to support the value of the peso if Nafta failed to win
approval. But the agreement--which had remained secret
because it was never formally signed--was still around, and
Mr. Ortiz hoped to invoke it now--Announcing the agreement
would give Mexican authorities a crucial psychological boost
with investors by showing that anyone attacking the peso
would have to take on both Mexico and the U.S.
But it might take a day to get all the approvals from the
U.S. government. Could the Mexican markets be shut down? Mr.
Ortiz wondered.
By 11 p.m., with international investors nervous, and
European markets about to open, Mexican financial officials
were in discussions about shutting trading in stocks and the
currency for a day, to let things settle down. But a full-
scale argument broke out about the kind of signal the
closings would show. The meeting split up into working groups
and took until 2 a.m. to decide that at least the currency
markets and the banks should be closed. Pedro Aspe, the
finance minister, and Miguel Mancera, the central bank head,
then left for President Carlos Salinas's offices.
With at least some decisions made, officials called Roberto
Hernandez, the chief executive of Banamex-Accival, Mexico's
largest bank, informing him of the bank and currency-market
closure. The Hacienda officials said the banks would
certainly be free to trade Friday--but they also warned that
Hacienda would be watching closely for any speculative
challenge.
At 3:30 a.m. in Boston, Robert Citrone, manager of Fidelity
Investment Management's New Markets Income Fund, was back in
the firm's warren-like offices. A few hours earlier he had
stepped off the train in Acton, Mass., greeting his wife and
newborn son.
``I have bad news,'' his wife had said.
The garage flooded with snow-melt again, Mr. Citrone
thought. Then his wife told him Mr. Colosio had been shot.
At home through the evening, Mr. Citrone phoned central-
bank contacts or anyone else who could give him a reading on
the situation. A Mexican central-bank official at one point
convinced him that it had enough currency reserves to defend
the peso. That was true, but what if other investors
panicked? Brokers were already talking about a 300-point
decline in Mexican stocks, and that would
also mean the currency would be in trouble.
At 4 a.m., Finance Minister Aspe returned to Arture Street
with an answer from President Salinas: Thursday would be a
day of mourning for Mr. Golosio. Banks and currency markets
would close.
Now it was time to bring out the secret weapon, the $6
billion swap agreement. Mr. Ortiz, the undersecretary of
finance, picked up the phone and dialed the home in
Washington of Lawrence Summers, the undersecretary of
international affairs for the Treasury. Mr. Summers thought
he could secure the swap line.
The hope was to close the Mexican stock exchange, too, but
Bolsa authorities wanted to make sure that there wouldn't be
any trading of Mexican shares in New York, either. Mr.
Summers said he would see if that could be done.
Later, Mr. Ortiz learned that Treasury had asked for a
closure of Mexican stocks, but the U.S. Securities and
Exchange Commission and the New York Stock Exchange were
resisting the idea. It looked like the U.S. markets would
open Mexican shares after only a short delay.
But trading of Mexican stocks in London was turning out to
be disorderly, a sign of panic. Shares in bellwether
Telafonos de Mexico were down more than 5 percent.
The Arturo Street team turned to Carlos Mendoza, a young
Stanford Business School graduate who runs National
Financiera's $1.5 billion Mexican stock fund. Mr. Mendoza had
won the respect of international traders late last year when
he managed to sell $1 billion of Telmex shares into the
markets without anyone's noticing. Sleepless and worried, Mr.
Mendoza called Mexican brokers in London, encouraging them to
keep markets orderly. To keep things under control, while
still not committing much of National Financiera's money, he
gave the London trades an indication where he might buy or
sell Telmex shares. That hint tightened the spread, or
difference between the buying and selling price.
Less than an hour before the New York opening, Telmex
shares had recovered.
With the Arturo Street meetings finally over as the sun was
coming up in Mexico City, the finance officials began trying
to win back investor confidence by calling everyone they
could think of around the world from traders to chief
executives. Judging by the calls, international investors
were still scared. But the Mexicans began winning them back,
one at a time.
``The performance was magnificent,'' says a Trust Co. of
the West portfolio manager. ``Almost every investment bank
and every investor in the U.S. was on the phones from 8 to 9
in the morning and had it all laid out for them by the
Mexicans.''
By Thursday afternoon, the tide had turned. Stories burst
across the news wires announcing the ``new'' $6 billion swap
agreement, approved by President Clinton. Also, in a rare
example of quick agreement, President Salines had managed to
gather government, business and labor leaders to announce a
re-signing of the country's basic economic pact.
Telmex shares finished just 5.6% lower on the Big Board,
and they rebounded Friday once the Mexican Bolsa reopened.
Investor confidence had been restored.
``The whole world was grading our ability to manage the
unexpected,'' Mr. Curria says. ``Everybody at the Arturo
Street meetings said, We have to make this work because we
have to make Mexico work.''
____________________