Tuesday, March 22, 2011
India's Big Green Wrecking Machine: WSJ editorial on Jairam Ramesh
India's Balanced Growth: WSJ editorial on balance of payments
- REVIEW & OUTLOOK ASIA
- JANUARY 7, 2011
India's Balanced Growth
Instead of fretting about trade deficits, India should open up more to foreign direct investment.
Mr. Singh's Lament: WSJ editorial on New Delhi power politics
- REVIEW & OUTLOOK ASIA | FEBRUARY 18, 2011
Mr. Singh's Lament
India's prime minister suggests the buck doesn't stop with him.
Back to the License Raj: WSJ editorial on India FDI
- REVIEW & OUTLOOK ASIA
- FEBRUARY 23, 2011
Back to the License Raj?
Another example of the arbitrary interference that is slowing foreign investment into India.
Foreign direct investment into India shrank 22% in 2010, even as foreign portfolio capital increased more than 100%. The main reason FDI has started going elsewhere is the regulatory environment for foreign firms. A good example of the problem is the Cairn-Vedanta saga playing out in New Delhi's corridors of power this month.
Last August, London-listed mining firm Vedanta announced it would buy a majority stake in Cairn India, a local oil explorer owned by U.K.-based Cairn Energy. Shareholders in both firms approved the deal last year. But this $9.6 billion acquisition still hasn't cleared regulators.
India's oil ministry had earlier promised both companies that it would approve the deal by December; it later pushed the deadline to the end of February. Now that deadline also appears improbable, with India's cabinet stepping in last week to offer its judgment. British Prime Minister David Cameron wrote to his Indian counterpart Manmohan Singh recently to express concerns about the logjam.
Delays are one thing, but India is also changing the rules in the middle of the game. Regulators are now haggling with Cairn over the details of the contract that allowed it to explore oil fields in the northern state of Rajasthan.
As per that contract, Oil & Natural Gas Corporation, the Indian state-owned firm that owns a minority share in these fields, would bear the full burden of the royalty owed to the government for extracting oil. But ONGC offers a different legal interpretation of the royalty, which, if agreed to, could suddenly alter the valuation of the fields and imperil the deal. Cairn contests this interpretation, but New Delhi is invoking "national interest" to ensure that its ward's interests be met. Before the deal can go through, Vedanta and Cairn are supposed to give up their right to arbitration on disputes with the government. Both firms have rightly refused.
New Delhi's conduct here is of a piece with the treatment meted out to other investors. Mr. Cameron's letter, for instance, mentions Vodafone, the British firm that's battling a tax case over its 2007 acquisition of one of India's largest telecom operators. New Delhi says Vodafone is liable for $2.5 billion in capital gains taxes for a transaction that occurred between two non-Indian entities outside India. This is the first time such a transaction has been taxed, which is why a Mumbai court had to uphold the taxman's authority last September. New Delhi even changed a technical income-tax provision in 2008 with retroactive effect, just to allow the taxman to pursue the 2007 deal.
Then there's Environment Minister Jairam Ramesh. The problem with his activist agenda isn't just that economic growth is being sacrificed for environmentalism. It's also that Mr. Ramesh's ministry has either reversed local governments who had first given approval to industrial projects (Vedanta's aluminium mining in the eastern state of Orissa last year) or revisited those approvals to keep the company guessing (Korean steel giant Posco's plant in Orissa, finally cleared last month after five years).
Moreover, the minutiae in India's FDI regulations are driving seasoned investors to distraction. In early 2009, the government introduced amendments to its FDI policy that wrought confusion for investors, as they discovered new discrepancies, loopholes and backdoors in the rules limiting FDI. While some of these amendments have since been rescinded or clarified, the lasting effect has been to increase the power of the bureaucracy. Previously foreigners understood they were limited to a certain percentage stake in a company depending on the sector; now in some cases it's up to regulators to set FDI ceilings on a company-by-company basis.
Such arbitrary interference erodes the rule of law and takes India backward toward the practices of the infamous License Raj. Then almost all economic activity was subject to the whims of rent-seeking politicians and bureaucrats. Having largely extricated itself from this corrupt and inefficient morass 20 years ago, why is New Delhi determined to repeat history and drive foreign investment away?
India's Lingering Leviathan: WSJ editorial on the budget
- REVIEW & OUTLOOK ASIA
- MARCH 1, 2011
India's Lingering Leviathan
The 2011 budget fails to honor the legacy of the 1991 reforms by cutting back regulation.
Twenty years ago, India's then Finance Minister Manmohan Singh brought out a budget that drastically reduced state intervention in the economy and kicked off a period of high growth. Today as prime minister, Mr. Singh is presiding over a government that is growing the state sector and imperilling future growth. Yesterday's budget increased social welfare spending while offering little reform to decrease regulatory meddling.
Reform-minded critics expressed concerns in the years after Mr. Singh's historic 1991 budget that those reforms didn't go deep enough. Later rounds of liberalization didn't either. And Mr. Singh, once he came to power as prime minister in 2004, never mustered the political will to push further reforms through. Instead, his Congress party-led government has kept echoing "inclusive growth" as its mantra, in an attempt to exploit class divides in a growing economy. The party has touted the idea of "two Indias," the urban rich versus the rural poor.
But if there's one reason the poor in rural areas have remained poor is that reforms never reached sectors such as agriculture and land. Instead the benefits have been concentrated in urban-centric industries.
Take agriculture itself, a sector that employs more Indians than any other. Farmers in one state often face restrictions in selling their crops in another. When they are allowed to sell, infrastructure bottlenecks slow down transportation and storage. Supply chains are notoriously inefficient in India, largely because restrictions on foreign direct investment prevent the entry of a Wal-Mart or a Carrefour. Whatever chains exist are dominated by a few traders, who don't allow new entrants into the market. Moreover, commodity exchanges that can offer farmers better price signals haven't been fully liberalized; they are still regulated by a political ministry instead of an independent entity.
Another threat to growth is the lack of an efficient market in land, a problem that's starting to affect urban industries as they try to expand capacity. The nature of India's eminent domain laws has left land acquisition and property rights murky. The greatest victim here is, of course, the rural poor who can't earn a proper profit from selling their land.
Then there are the socialist-era labor laws still on the books that prevent factories from providing employment to the poor, stalling the necessary process of urbanization. And New Delhi's stranglehold on higher education means the poor can't be easily educated.
As these examples show, growth could be much more "inclusive" if reforms were extended to more areas of the economy. But, as Niranjan Rajadhyaksha explained on these pages last month, Mr. Singh has in practice found it easier to promote "inclusiveness" by expanding the dole than by embarking on genuine deregulation.
Which brings us to the spending addiction that's characterized Mr. Singh's Congress Party-led government. So-called social-sector spending, as a share of total expenditure, rose to 19.27% from 13.75% in 2005-06. Finance Minister Pranab Mukherjee continued that tradition in his budget speech yesterday.
Mr. Mukherjee proudly announced that social spending will rise an extra 17% next year. In January, the government said it would index its rural jobs scheme, which guarantees 100 days of (often) make-work employment to the rural poor, to inflation. The government is also contemplating increasing its food subsidies dramatically through a new "food security" law; one liberal estimate pegs the increase in subsidy at nearly 1 trillion rupees ($22.1 billion). Total government spending is set to rise by 13.4% from last year's budgeted estimates—though readers should note that New Delhi ended up spending more last year than it budgeted for.
This level of spending in the past has been cause for alarm, especially with the bond markets. This time may be different, because increased revenue from taxes and one-time privatizations, as New Delhi estimates, can offset what it plans to spend. Of course, these estimates and plans invite skepticism, as Ruchir Sharma writes nearby.
Investors should nevertheless keep careful watch on spending and regulatory policies to understand the long-term sustainability of India's public finances. Asset sales to the private sector won't come every year; tax revenues are higher only because nominal GDP, thanks to high inflation, is buoyant. What investors should care about instead is New Delhi's recurring, or revenue, expenditure. It's a little suspicious that the one accounting trick Mr. Mukherjee pulled out of his hat yesterday was rearranging how the government measures the deficit between revenue spending and receipts.
Perhaps investors have already started to rethink the sustainability of India's growth. This year has seen foreigners pull $2 billion out of the stock market this year, as they question both regulatory and macroeconomic trends. FDI shrank last year.
The best way for New Delhi to reassure investors about the long-term potential of its economy would be to cut spending and, more importantly, enact a second generation of reforms targeting land acquisition and labor laws. It's past time for Mr. Singh's second supply-side revolution, one that finally reaches rural India.
The Price Is Always Right: My take on some privatization issues
- OPINION ASIA
- MARCH 10, 2011
The Price Is Always Right
The key decision for a government is selling state-owned enterprises, not how to price them.
By ABHEEK BHATTACHARYA
Everyone knew last month's privatization of Indonesian airline Garuda had gone badly, but exactly how badly is only now coming into focus. Previously it appeared that the big problem was the government's failure to price the initial public offering correctly—the range of 750 to 1100 Indonesian rupiah (9 to 12 cents) per share was well in excess of what the underwriters had advised, with the predictable result that 40% of the shares went unsubscribed and the price tanked 17% in the first day of trading.
Now, however, an even worse effect is coming into view: The episode appears to be deterring Jakarta from pushing forward with more privatizations. Witness remarks this week from Deputy Minister for State-Owned Enterprises Pandu Djajanto, as reported by the Financial Times, that the government plans only one other privatization this year, down from the five to 10 it had previously intended. This confirms a policy shift observers had predicted.
Indonesia's economy is falling victim to a long-running controversy over the pricing of privatization IPOs. Garuda's sin was asking for too much, but previous episodes have stirred controversy for asking for too little. Take last November's listing of Krakatau Steel, which raised 2.68 trillion rupiah ($299 million). Many concluded that the government could have gotten more given that the shares shot up some 50% on the first day of trading.
But as much fun as political food fights about fair valuation are, they miss the more important economic reasons for privatization. Over the longer term, the sale price of the asset is only a small part of the value a privatization creates for a government and society.
Consider Maruti-Suzuki, a joint venture formed in 1983 between Japan's Suzuki and a state-owned Indian carmaker. The government offloaded its shares in the venture in stages starting in 1992. The company grew stronger, especially once Suzuki acquired majority control in 2002. "Decision-making became smoother and more focused" after that, Maruti's former managing director and current chairman R.C. Bhargava says, thanks to which costs were trimmed. Suzuki helped turn around the firm after record losses in 2001. More importantly, once Suzuki was in the driver's seat, it was willing to rev up R&D and introduce Japanese models that proved very popular in the Indian market. Maruti is now one of India's best brands.
Also consider Taiwan's Chunghwa, the state-owned telecom firm from which Taipei began divesting in 2000. By the late 1990s, deregulation of the telecom industry had undermined Chunghwa's earlier dominance; compared to its competitors, the "national champion" found itself stifled by political diktat. Once the government started shedding control, the firm trimmed its labor force and improved its marketing and customer service. For the past two years, Chunghwa has been voted one of Taiwan's best-managed companies in FinanceAsia's polls of 300 regional institutional investors.
In both cases, the pricing was controversial. After New Delhi divested 10% of Maruti in 1992, political opponents harangued then-Finance Minister Manmohan Singh for selling too cheaply. And in 2003, securities analysts worried that the automaker's IPO was too expensive. With Chunghwa, Taipei insisted on maximizing its proceeds in multiple stages of the privatization process. More than one public offering met with a lukewarm market response, with the government criticized for setting too high a price. But the controversies turned out to be irrelevant in the larger scheme of things.
Regardless of the controversy, the lasting benefits of this process are undeniable in terms of encouraging growth and, yes, tax revenues. It's not just Maruti and Chunghwa. Cross-country evidence compiled by William Megginson at the University of Oklahoma and others shows how privatization frees trapped assets to be put to growth-producing uses bureaucrats could never envision. On average, a firm's productivity increases by 20%.
The danger is that politicians will lose sight of this fact amid pricing controversies. For instance, the government of Mr. Singh, India's prime minister since 2004, now presents state asset sales as an important leg of its fiscal strategy, which involves expanding welfare programs. This practically begs his opponents to question whether the government is "getting enough." Once the political debate gets sidetracked in this fashion, it jeopardizes future privatizations, as Indonesia is discovering.
It takes political will to keep the larger picture in mind, since pricing will always be controversial. Price too low, and policy makers will worry about fiscal losses while cronyism will become a concern for the public. Price too high, and investors could be dissuaded from buying the stock—emboldening political opponents of privatization.
The choice of asset pricing, in effect, becomes exactly the kind of strategic business decision that governments are fundamentally bad at. That's the very reason governments made another choice—to hand over that asset to the market—in the first place.
Mr. Bhattacharya is an editorial page writer with The Wall Street Journal Asia.