In the explosion of the most serious economic crisis since 1929, international real-estate speculation has played a fundamental role. This holds true for Italy as well.
I will emphasise three aspects, each of which require more specific investigation.
The financialisation operations of the real-estate sector have strongly involved the most important business groups and brought about a true and proper reorganisation within it. The stock-exchange capitalisation of real-estate capitals has shifted billions of euros. Just one general statistic: in Italy, in the period in which nominal salaries grew by 13 %, real-estate values jumped by 131 % (i.e. grew 10 times faster). A fundamental piece of the cake was represented by divestments of public property, whose accomplishment was greatly accelerated – procedurally and temporally – by means of so-called “securitisations”, an enormous business racket, an immense speculative bubble, a cause – and not a merely transient one – of the financial drug which has killed the poorest and ended by poisoning the entire economy.
I would like to translate this scheme into the concrete terms of the Italian developments, within what we can call actually-existing capitalism, that is, the perverse web of politics, business and financial speculation. A scandal of enormous dimensions which has direct impact on the national and European governing institutions and on the relation between these and the globalised credit system.
To make the story more interesting, we can translate it into the terms of a film plot, a sort of crime story that has as its protagonists and interpreters famous actors of the world credit system and of the global financial crash: Lehman Brothers, J.P. Morgan, etc.
The director and scriptwriter of this great work is doubtless the powerful Minister of the Economy, Giulio Tremonti. Today Tremonti seems to be another person, like the great directors who nonchalantly go from drama to comedy, always producing masterpieces. Very recently, he accomplished another pirouette, returning to the past splendours of lifetime tax amnesties and of general amnesties, a remake of the tax shelters, that is, of amnesty for illegally exported capital, and a new chapter is opening in the saga in which Minister Tremonti, in the years from 2001 to 2006, left his mark the economic and fiscal policy of the Italian government.
However, up to a short while ago, when the financial crisis was exploding, Tremonti had been passing through a penitential phase. He was for bringing “ethics” to the market. In his last book he speaks of the “crisis as a global Parmalat, where the unhealthy behaviour of speculative finance appears, capable of issuing bonds, worthless papers, for billions of euros and then, via funds, spreads them on top of complex investment offers to be sold to all of the citizens unaware of the risk”.2 This can all be synthesised by the formula that points to the culprit truly responsible for the world crisis: “techno-finance, degeneration of the economic system which we can call marketism”.
In 2001, however, the Minister was not thinking this way. Creative finance was his gospel then.
It was, as already said, Tremonti who was the inventor of the most modern and unscrupulous financial operations used to generate cash. It was Tremonti who invited Italians, in their own small way, to do like the Americans and get into debt and mortgage their own house to have liquidity and relaunch consumption.
This was the Tremonti of securitisations, in particular of public real-estate. This matter has not received the attention it merits. Mario Sensini,3 called it “one of the greatest property divestments ever undertaken anywhere in the world”. More modestly, Tremonti spoke of “the greatest securitisation ever undertaken by a European nation”.
An application of creative finance with astronomical figures. In 2006 the National Audit Office4 issued a preliminary statement: in the face of portfolios securitised to 129.1 billion proceeds of 57.8 billion were obtained with a sum of 15.9 billion for debt reduction (for every securitised 8 billion less than 1 billion for debt reduction).
Let us briefly explain the prodigious mechanism set in motion: The Treasury wants to sell real-estate properties and cedes them en bloc to a company expressly established for this purpose, the “SCIP” (Società di Cartolizzazione Immobili Pubblici [Public Property Securitisation Company]). The latter advances to the Treasury an immediate compensation which it does not itself pay out but draws from bond issues on the market. In turn, SCIP reimburses investors the amounts received plus interest through funds collected from the sales that have been effected.
So far one might say everything sounds normal, or almost. However, as in all successful films, there is a coup de théâtre. What happens if the SCIP cannot redeem the bonds? No problem, the state pays! In fact, the titles are guaranteed regardless of the outcome of the sales. We might say that the bonds are sold on the market but guaranteed without consideration for the market. A necessity, some will say, so that the rating agencies do not lower their investment value. On the other hand, a triple A, the highest rating, is guaranteed for investments on the stock market but without the risk because the state a priori guarantees the interest payments covering a possible difference, if, at the end of the process, SCIP is not in a position to honour the debts.
As creative finance, it is not bad. We are dealing here with the concrete application of the neoliberal model of speculative finance: privatise the gains and socialise the losses.
But let’s take a step back.
What is SCIP? The news media5 tell us that SCIP was born on November 23, 2001 in a notary office in Rome and was founded by two lawyers representing two Dutch foundations having their headquarters in Luxembourg; its social capital amounts to 10,000 (yes, that’s right, ten thousand!) and with a Scottish citizen in his 70s, Gordon Burrows, as president. In short, to speak plain, SCIP is an empty container. But capable of making money for itself and for the banking system.
As with all the great sagas, the SCIP affair took place in instalments. SCIP 1 and SCIP 2 are carefully prepared and go on the air.
The first film proves to be a success and its sales make possible payment of bonds with scheduled maturity dates. The repeat performance, SCIP 2, born on wings of enthusiasm, turned out to be rather more unpalatable: the sales turned out to be considerably less than expected. By the end of 2008, receipts were 66.5 % of what had been estimated, quite a bit lower than those needed to handle the payment of the debt accumulated through the bond issues.6
A third sequel, SCIP 3, i.e. the securitisation of the property of the Ministry of Defence, has, by contrast, remained at the script-writing stage. The clapperboard is not ready for it because by now the insolvency of SCIP 2 is impending.
What in fact happened at the end of the film SCIP 2? Something very simple and not so far away that it could not have been thought of from the start: the bonds issued superseded the sales made and SCIP does not have funds to pay the matured bonds. And, according to script, the state intervenes – with 1.7 billion euros.
This brings us up to the present. On February 11, 2009 (with 9 years having passed since the first securitisation and the invention of the SCIP) the same director, Minister Tremonti, declares insolvency and the closing of the operation – the state pays the losses.
Thus creative finance reveals its secret: it does not entrust a deal to the market, taking on, in exchange the onus of the risk; it awards itself the deal without the attached risks, saddling the state with the latter.
Did everyone lose from this? No, the banks which issued the bonds have been miraculously healed, along with the consultants and managers, and no one knows the contracts stipulated by the Luxembourg SCIP, for the data are not public: “Burrows and the two Dutch foundations still figure today in the organisation chart and among the shareholders of the SCIP. However, in the meanwhile, at the same company address, Via Eleonora Duse 53 in Rome, some forty real-estate and financial companies have sprouted, all controlled by the same number of Dutch foundations. A grouping of names which are, to say the least, picturesque: Macbeth, Panacea, Atlantide, Tevere Finance …”7
With the demure language proper to it, the National Audit Office had already spoken plainly in 2006: “The principal risks of the securitisation operations consist of their lack of transparency and of their so-called ‘overcollateralisation’. In the case of public real-estate, the legal and actual guarantees granted the purchasing vehicle company are such as to make the risk remain with the grantor”.8 And the grantor, as the story clearly tells us, is the Italian state.
No one knows for sure since the contracts are not public, but a realistic estimate speaks of an operational cost in round figures between 850 million and 1 billion euros. A mind-boggling scandal followed by another scandalous circumstance: the fact that it largely happened in silence, which is very strange, seeing as the Italian government, in the form of its leader Berlusconi and his two principal ministers, was pilloried in the press, and not only in Italy, due to various kinds of illicit behaviour and actions.
To try and explain the reason for this strange omission, I will put forward an hypothesis followed by some reflections of a political character, which also involve the politics of the various lefts within the crisis of the Italian political system.