[
This piece has been adapted and updated by Nomi Prins from chapters 18 and 19 of her book All the Presidents’ Bankers: The Hidden Alliances that Drive American Power,
just out in paperback (Nation Books).]
The past, especially the political past, doesn’t just provide clues
to the present. In the realm of the presidency and Wall Street, it
provides an ongoing pathway for political-financial relationships and
policies that remain a threat to the American economy going forward.
When Hillary Clinton
video-announced her
bid for the Oval Office, she claimed she wanted to be a “champion” for
the American people. Since then, she has attempted to recast herself as a
populist and distance herself from some of the policies of her husband.
But Bill Clinton did not become president without sharing the
friendships, associations, and ideologies of the elite banking sect, nor
will Hillary Clinton. Such relationships run too deep and are too
longstanding.
To grasp the dangers that the
Big Six banks (JPMorgan
Chase, Citigroup, Bank of America, Wells Fargo, Goldman Sachs, and
Morgan Stanley) presently pose to the financial stability of our nation
and the world, you need to understand their history in Washington,
starting with the Clinton years of the 1990s. Alliances established then
(not exclusively with Democrats, since bankers are bipartisan by
nature) enabled these firms to become as politically powerful as they
are today and to exert that power over an unprecedented amount of
capital. Rest assured of one thing: their past and present CEOs will
prove as critical in backing a Hillary Clinton presidency as they were
in enabling her husband’s years in office.
In return, today’s titans of finance and their hordes of lobbyists,
more than half of whom held prior positions in the government, exact
certain requirements from Washington. They need to know that a safety
net or bailout will always be available in times of emergency and that
the regulatory road will be open to whatever practices they deem most
profitable.
Whatever her populist pitch may be in the 2016 campaign — and she
will have one — note that, in all these years, Hillary Clinton has not
publicly condemned Wall Street or any individual Wall Street leader.
Though she may, in the heat of that campaign, raise the bad-apples or
bad-situation explanation for Wall Street’s role in the financial crisis
of 2007-2008, rest assured that she will not point fingers at her
friends. She will not chastise the people that pay her hundreds of
thousands of dollars a pop to speak or the ones that have long shared
the social circles in which she and her husband move. She is an
undeniable component of the Clinton political-financial legacy that came
to national
fruition more than 23 years ago, which is
why looking back at the history of the first Clinton presidency is
likely to tell you so much about the shape and character of the
possible
second one.
The 1992 Election and the Rise of Bill Clinton
Challenging President George H.W. Bush, who was seeking a second
term, Arkansas Governor Bill Clinton announced he would seek the 1992
Democratic nomination for the presidency on October 2, 1991. The
upcoming presidential election would not, however, turn out to alter the
path of mergers or White House support for deregulation that was
already in play one iota.
First, though, Clinton needed money. A consummate fundraiser in his
home state, he cleverly amassed backing and established early alliances
with Wall Street. One of his key supporters would later change American
banking forever. As Clinton put it, he received “invaluable early
support” from Ken Brody, a Goldman Sachs executive seeking to delve into
Democratic politics. Brody took Clinton “to a dinner with high-powered
New York businesspeople, including Bob Rubin, whose tightly reasoned
arguments for a new economic policy,” Clinton later wrote, “made a
lasting impression on me.”
The battle for the White House kicked into high gear the following
fall. William Schreyer, chairman and CEO of Merrill Lynch, showed his
support for Bush by giving the maximum personal contribution to his
campaign committee permitted by law: $1,000. But he wanted to do more.
So when one of Bush’s fundraisers solicited him to contribute to the
Republican National Committee’s nonfederal, or “soft money,” account,
Schreyer made a $100,000 donation.
The bankers’ alliances remained divided among the candidates at
first, as they considered which man would be best for their own power
trajectories, but their donations were plentiful: mortgage and broker
company contributions were $1.2 million; 46% to the GOP and 54% to the
Democrats. Commercial banks poured in $14.8 million to the 1992
campaigns at a near 50-50 split.
Clinton, like every good Democrat, campaigned publicly against the
bankers: “It’s time to end the greed that consumed Wall Street and
ruined our S&Ls [Savings and Loans] in the last decade,” he said.
But equally, he had no qualms about taking money from the financial
sector. In the early months of his campaign,
BusinessWeek estimated that he received $2 million of his initial $8.5 million in contributions from New York, under the care of Ken Brody.
“If I had a Ken Brody working for me in every state, I’d be like the
Maytag man with nothing to do,” said Rahm Emanuel, who ran Clinton’s
nationwide fundraising committee and later became Barack Obama’s chief
of staff. Wealthy donors and prospective fundraisers were invited to a
select series of intimate meetings with Clinton at the plush Manhattan
office of the prestigious private equity firm Blackstone.
Robert Rubin Comes to Washington
Clinton knew that embracing the bankers would help him get things
done in Washington, and what he wanted to get done dovetailed nicely
with their desires anyway. To facilitate his policies and maintain ties
to Wall Street, he selected a man who had been instrumental to his
campaign, Robert Rubin, as his economic adviser.
In 1980, Rubin had landed on Goldman Sachs’ management committee
alongside fellow Democrat Jon Corzine. A decade later, Rubin and Stephen
Friedman were appointed cochairmen of Goldman Sachs. Rubin’s political
aspirations met an appropriate opportunity when Clinton captured the
White House.
On January 25, 1993, Clinton appointed him as assistant to the
president for economic policy. Shortly thereafter, the president created
a unique role for his comrade, head of the newly created National
Economic Council. “I asked Bob Rubin to take on a new job,” Clinton
later wrote, “coordinating economic policy in the White House as
Chairman of the National Economic Council, which would operate in much
the same way the National Security Council did, bringing all the
relevant agencies together to formulate and implement policy… [I]f he
could balance all of [Goldman Sachs’] egos and interests, he had a good
chance to succeed with the job.” (Ten years later, President George W.
Bush gave the same position to Rubin’s old partner, Friedman.)
Back at Goldman, Jon Corzine, co-head of fixed income, and Henry
Paulson, co-head of investment banking, were ascending through the
ranks. They became co-CEOs when Friedman retired at the end of 1994.
Those two men were the perfect bipartisan duo. Corzine was a staunch
Democrat serving on the International Capital Markets Advisory Committee
of the Federal Reserve Bank of New York (from 1989 to 1999). He would
co-chair a presidential commission for Clinton on capital budgeting
between 1997 and 1999, while serving in a key role on the Borrowing
Advisory Committee of the Treasury Department. Paulson was a well
connected Republican and Harvard graduate who had served on the White
House Domestic Council as staff assistant to the president in the Nixon
administration.
Bankers Forge Ahead
By May 1995, Rubin was impatiently warning Congress that the
Glass-Steagall Act could “conceivably impede safety and soundness by
limiting revenue diversification.” Banking deregulation was then inching
through Congress. As they had during the previous Bush administration,
both the House and Senate Banking Committees had approved separate
versions of legislation to repeal Glass-Steagall, the 1933 Act passed by
the administration of Franklin Delano Roosevelt that had separated
deposit-taking and lending or “commercial” bank activities from
speculative or “investment bank” activities, such as securities creation
and trading. Conference negotiations had fallen apart, though, and the
effort was stalled.
By 1996, however, other industries, representing core clients of the
banking sector, were already being deregulated. On February 8, 1996,
Clinton signed the Telecom Act, which killed many independent and
smaller broadcasting companies by opening a national market for
“cross-ownership.” The result was mass mergers in that sector advised by
banks.
Deregulation of companies that could transport energy across state
lines came next. Before such deregulation, state commissions had
regulated companies that owned power plants and transmission lines,
which worked together to distribute power. Afterward, these could be
divided and effectively traded without uniform regulation or
responsibility to regional customers. This would lead to blackouts in
California and a slew of energy derivatives, as well as trades at firms
such as Enron that used the energy business as a front for fraudulent
deals.
The number of mergers and stock and debt issuances ballooned on the
back of all the deregulation that eliminated barriers that had kept
companies separated. As industries consolidated, they also ramped up
their complex transactions and special purpose vehicles
(off-balance-sheet, offshore constructions tailored by the banking
community to hide the true nature of their debts and shield their
profits from taxes). Bankers kicked into overdrive to generate fees and
create related deals. Many of these blew up in the early 2000s in a
spate of scandals and bankruptcies, causing an earlier millennium
recession.
Meanwhile, though, bankers plowed ahead with their advisory services,
speculative enterprises, and deregulation pursuits. President Clinton
and his team would soon provide them an epic gift, all in the name of
U.S. global power and competitiveness. Robert Rubin would steer the
White House ship to that goal.
On February 12, 1999, Rubin found a fresh angle to argue on behalf of
banking deregulation. He addressed the House Committee on Banking and
Financial Services, claiming that, “the problem U.S. financial services
firms face abroad is more one of access than lack of competitiveness.”
He was referring to the European banks’ increasing control of
distribution channels into the European institutional and retail client
base. Unlike U.S. commercial banks, European banks had no restrictions
keeping them from buying and teaming up with U.S. or other securities
firms and investment banks to create or distribute their products. He
did not appear concerned about the destruction caused by sizeable
financial bets throughout Europe. The international competitiveness
argument allowed him to focus the committee on what needed to be done
domestically in the banking sector to remain competitive.
Rubin stressed the necessity of HR 665, the Financial Services
Modernization Act of 1999, or the Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act, that was
officially introduced on February 10, 1999. He said it took “fundamental
actions to modernize our financial system by repealing the
Glass-Steagall Act prohibitions on banks affiliating with securities
firms and repealing the Bank Holding Company Act prohibitions on
insurance underwriting.”
The Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act Marches Forward
On February 24, 1999, in more testimony before the Senate Banking
Committee, Rubin pushed for fewer prohibitions on bank affiliates that
wanted to perform the same functions as their larger bank holding
company, once the different types of financial firms could legally
merge. That minor distinction would enable subsidiaries to place all
sorts of bets and house all sorts of junk under the false premise that
they had the same capital beneath them as their parent. The idea that a
subsidiary’s problems can’t taint or destroy the host, or bank holding
company, or create “catastrophic” risk, is a myth perpetuated by bankers
and political enablers that continues to this day.
Rubin had no qualms with mega-consolidations across multiple service
lines. His real problems were those of his banker friends, which lay
with the financial modernization bill’s “prohibition on the use of
subsidiaries by larger banks.” The bankers wanted the right to
establish off-book subsidiaries where they could hide risks, and
profits, as needed.
Again, Rubin decided to use the notion of remaining competitive with
foreign banks to make his point. This technicality was “unacceptable to
the administration,” he said, not least because “foreign banks
underwrite and deal in securities through subsidiaries in the United
States, and U.S. banks [already] conduct securities and merchant banking
activities abroad through so-called Edge subsidiaries.” Rubin got his
way. These off-book, risky, and barely regulated subsidiaries would be
at the forefront of the 2008 financial crisis.
On March 1, 1999, Senator Phil Gramm released a final draft of the
Financial Services Modernization Act of 1999 and scheduled committee
consideration for March 4th. A bevy of excited financial titans who were
close to Clinton, including Travelers CEO Sandy Weill, Bank of America
CEO, Hugh McColl, and American Express CEO Harvey Golub, called for
“swift congressional action.”
The Quintessential Revolving-Door Man
The stock market continued its meteoric rise in anticipation of a
banker-friendly conclusion to the legislation that would deregulate
their industry. Rising consumer confidence reflected the nation’s
fondness for the markets and lack of empathy with the rest of the
world’s economic plight. On March 29, 1999, the Dow Jones Industrial
Average closed above 10,000 for the first time. Six weeks later, on May
6th, the Financial Services Modernization Act passed the Senate. It
legalized, after the fact, the merger that created the nation’s biggest
bank. Citigroup, the marriage of Citibank and Travelers, had been
finalized the previous October.
It was not until that point that one of Glass-Steagall’s main
assassins decided to leave Washington. Six days after the bill passed
the Senate, on May 12, 1999, Robert Rubin abruptly announced his
resignation. As Clinton wrote, “I believed he had been the best and most
important treasury secretary since Alexander Hamilton… He had played a
decisive role in our efforts to restore economic growth and spread its
benefits to more Americans.”
Clinton named Larry Summers to succeed Rubin. Two weeks later,
BusinessWeek reported
signs of trouble in merger paradise — in the form of a growing rift
between John Reed, the former Chairman of Citibank, and Sandy Weill at
the new Citigroup. As Reed said, “Co-CEOs are hard.” Perhaps to patch
their rift, or simply to take advantage of a political opportunity, the
two men enlisted a third person to join their relationship — none other
than Robert Rubin.
Rubin’s resignation from Treasury became effective on July 2nd. At
that time, he announced, “This almost six and a half years has been
all-consuming, and I think it is time for me to go home to New York and
to do whatever I’m going to do next.” Rubin became chairman of
Citigroup’s executive committee and a member of the newly created
“office of the chairman.” His initial annual compensation package was
worth around $40 million. It was more than worth the “hit” he took when
he left Goldman for the Treasury post.
Three days after the conference committee endorsed the
Gramm-Leach-Bliley bill, Rubin assumed his Citigroup position, joining
the institution destined to dominate the financial industry. That very
same day, Reed and Weill issued a joint statement praising Washington
for “liberating our financial companies from an antiquated regulatory
structure,” stating that “this legislation will unleash the creativity
of our industry and ensure our global competitiveness.”
On November 4th, the Senate approved the Gramm-Leach-Bliley Act by a
vote of 90 to 8. (The House voted 362–57 in favor.) Critics famously
referred to it as the Citigroup Authorization Act.
Mirth abounded in Clinton’s White House. “Today Congress voted to
update the rules that have governed financial services since the Great
Depression and replace them with a system for the twenty-first century,”
Summers said. “This historic legislation will better enable American
companies to compete in the new economy.”
But the happiness was misguided. Deregulating the banking industry
might have helped the titans of Wall Street but not people on Main
Street. The Clinton era epitomized the vast difference between
appearance and reality, spin and actuality. As the decade drew to a
close, Clinton basked in the glow of a lofty stock market, a budget
surplus, and the passage of this key banking “modernization.” It would
be revealed in the 2000s that many corporate profits of the 1990s were
based on inflated evaluations, manipulation, and fraud.
When Clinton
left office, the gap between rich and poor was greater than it had been
in 1992, and yet the Democrats heralded him as some sort of prosperity
hero.
When he resigned in 1997, Robert Reich, Clinton’s labor secretary,
said, “America is prospering, but the prosperity is not being widely
shared, certainly not as widely shared as it once was… We have made
progress in growing the economy. But growing together again must be our
central goal in the future.” Instead, the growth of wealth inequality
in the United States accelerated, as the men yielding the most financial
power wielded it with increasingly less culpability or restriction. By
2015, that wealth or prosperity gap would stand near historic highs.
The power of the bankers increased dramatically in the wake of the
repeal of Glass-Steagall. The Clinton administration had rendered
twenty-first-century banking practices similar to those of the pre-1929
crash. But worse. “Modernizing” meant utilizing government-backed
depositors’ funds as collateral for the creation and distribution of all
types of complex securities and derivatives whose proliferation would
be increasingly quick and dangerous.
Eviscerating Glass-Steagall allowed big banks to compete against
Europe and also enabled them to go on a rampage: more acquisitions,
greater speculation, and more risky products. The big banks used their
bloated balance sheets to engage in more complex activity, while
counting on customer deposits and loans as capital chips on the global
betting table. Bankers used hefty trading profits and wealth to increase
lobbying funds and campaign donations, creating an endless circle of
influence and mutual reinforcement of boundary-less speculation,
endorsed by the White House.
Deposits could be used to garner larger windfalls, just as cheap
labor and commodities in developing countries were used to formulate
more expensive goods for profit in the upper echelons of the global
financial hierarchy. Energy and telecoms proved especially fertile
ground for the investment banking fee business (and later for fraud,
extensive lawsuits, and bankruptcies). Deregulation greased the wheels
of complex financial instruments such as collateralized debt
obligations, junk bonds, toxic assets, and unregulated derivatives.
The Glass-Steagall repeal led to unfettered derivatives growth and
unstable balance sheets at commercial banks that merged with investment
banks and at investment banks that preferred to remain solo but engaged
in dodgier practices to remain “competitive.” In conjunction with the
tight political-financial alignment and associated collaboration that
began with Bush and increased under Clinton, bankers channeled the
1920s, only with more power over an immense and growing pile of global
financial assets and increasingly “open” markets. In the process,
accountability would evaporate.
Every bank accelerated its hunt for acquisitions and deposits to
amass global influence while creating, trading, and distributing
increasingly convoluted securities and derivatives. These practices
would foster the kind of shaky, interconnected, and opaque financial
environment that provided the backdrop and conditions leading up to the
financial meltdown of 2008.
The Realities of 2016
Hillary Clinton is, of course, not her husband. But her access to his
past banker alliances, amplified by the ones that she has formed
herself, makes her more of a friend than an adversary to the banking
industry. In her brief 2008 candidacy, all four of the New York-based
Big Six banks ranked among her
top 10 corporate donors. They have also contributed to the
Clinton Foundation. She needs them to win, just as both Barack Obama and Bill Clinton did.
No matter what spin is used for campaigning purposes, the idea that a
critical distance can be maintained between the White House and Wall
Street is naïve given the multiple channels of money and favors that
flow between the two. It is even more improbable, given the history of
connections that Hillary Clinton has established through her
associations with key bank leaders in the early 1990s, during her time
as a senator from New York, and given their contributions to the Clinton
foundation while she was secretary of state. At some level, the
situation couldn’t be less complicated: her path aligns with that of the
country’s most powerful bankers. If she becomes president, that will
remain the case.