Pitfalls of cash-and-carry privatisation
By Syed Mohibullah Shah
AT the outset, let us get our concepts clear. The sale of land, a factory or a business is disinvestment. If sale proceeds of this disinvestment are ploughed back into creating new income-generating assets, the second transaction would qualify as an investment.
But if the sale proceeds from disinvestment are paid to lenders to clear old debts and reduce trade deficit or are used for having good time globetrotting, then neither transaction qualifies as investment.
This is as true for individuals as it is for governments. Therefore, when publicly-owned enterprises in Pakistan are sold through an act of privatisation, that transaction is disinvestment. Now, the Privatisation Ordinance 2000 says that sale proceeds from privatisation would be applied 90 per cent for debt retirement and 10 per cent for poverty reduction, thus leaving nothing to be ploughed back into creating new income-generating assets.
That may be alright, since reducing debt and poverty are good objectives to pursue. But these goals do not have magic powers that could turn disinvestment into investment. Therefore, the Orwellian touch of labelling disinvestment as investment to jack up figures of foreign direct investment is not playing fair with the people of Pakistan.
But the issue is more serious than problems of creative accounting. The style of privatisation carried out in Pakistan resembles the cash-and-carry model with little effort going into critical areas that determine the success or failure of privatisation around the world — from the eligibility criteria for target selection and bidders to new injections of capital and technology and future plans regarding production, exports and employment.
As privatisation details are not being placed before the Council of Common Interest (CCI) or parliament, there is no way that people can learn about the important aspects of these disinvestments and gauge whether or not their legitimate interests are being protected through sale transactions. All those associated with the privatisation of publicly-owned enterprises owe fiduciary duties under corporate law towards the owners of enterprises — in this case the people — and are required by law to fulfil their duties, subject to ex post facto judicial review.
Only two examples of privatisation have come under public scrutiny, although many others are often mentioned in the press. Last year, through the case of privatisation of Pakistan Steel Mills in the Supreme Court, people came to know how the privatisation of the state entity was riddled with “omissions and commissions” and the deal was carried out in “indecent haste”.
This summer, the unending miseries inflicted upon the residents of Karachi, leading to power riots in some localities, have brought into focus the privatisation of KESC. Many are wishing that the privatisation of KESC was challenged in court like that of the Steel Mills. Showing rare unity of purpose, both the treasury and opposition members in Karachi’s city government have passed a resolution asking for a judicial inquiry into all aspects of the KESC privatisation to examine if fiduciary duties falling upon the functionaries who conducted the sale were duly fulfilled.
The problems of KESC were well known and essentially included the big gap between the supply and demand of power and huge transmission and distribution losses. Its privatisation was supposed to solve these problems, or so the government told the people.What seems to have happened is that, without solving the problems, the government walked away with the cash from the sale of the utility, leaving millions of residents at the mercy of unaccountable and squabbling new owners/management who are telling consumers there would be no relief from their miseries for another five years.
Even those who have been in favour of privatisation of state-owned enterprises are wondering whether the ills exposed in these two privatisations are typical of several of the 160 units so far privatised.
If an audit is conducted of the post-privatised fate of these units, apart from generating cash for the government, how many of these units would actually be found to have grown, expanded production and exports, reduced losses, improved efficiencies and service delivery with injections of new capital and technology?
Add to that the increasing momentum of dividend outflows from privatised units, and the economy may soon find itself up the creek, since several of these units are selling in domestic markets with no export earnings whatsoever.
The reasons why state-owned enterprises are privatised are not ideological but rational and economic. Inane and ideological slogans like “it is not the business of government to be in businesses” may be acceptable indulgence for marketing companies but do not sit well with policy discourse in governments that have important socio-economic responsibilities towards their citizens.
If Pakistan keeps conducting its privatisations on ideological grounds — as if publicly-owned enterprises are sinful and must quickly be got rid of by any and all means — it may well end up with results similar to another ideologically-driven exercise: privatisation in Russia.
Russian privatisation was used to sell off productive assets at throwaway prices or to give these to cronies of the government who instantly became billionaires. Several of them are now living abroad.
Ideologically driven Russian privatisation did not help expand production or improve efficiencies. Instead, the Russian economy shrank by about 30 per cent after being restructured through defective designing.
On the other hand, several publicly-owned companies after privatisation in China — like Haier now among the five biggest household electrical goods companies in the world — have grown tremendously by improving efficiencies of production and competitiveness in export markets.
There is another important reason why this cash-and-carry model needs to be urgently reviewed. Such a model is followed by cash-strapped countries in distress. They are drowning in debts and have no means of servicing these other than by selling off the family silver.
Inherent disadvantages lie in the cash-and-carry model since cash-strapped countries do not ask too many questions of prospective investors/buyers, as the purpose of the transaction is to raise cash for the country rather than expand and improve production of goods and services for the people. This seems to be the case with the KESC privatisation also.
But 9/11 changed the situation for Pakistan. Generous cash flows have been coming into the economy from aid flows, debt write-offs, waivers of sanctions, remittances from expatriates and diversion of Gulf investment. There is no reason for the government to still persist with the cash-and-carry model of privatisation now.
Government leaders have also been boasting of big reserves and surfeit of funds which have been tempting them to fund all kinds of grand activities including non-feasible projects. Therefore, the paradigm of a cash-strapped country selling its family silver to pay back its debt lost its validity for Pakistan after 9/11.
It is important for Pakistan to modify its privatisation policies before taking up further sale transactions. There is no reason to persist with its programme of disinvestment through the discredited cash-and-carry model of privatisation.
Let us also not forget that while the Chief Justice may have been made “non-functional”, the judgment of the apex court on the privatisation of the Steel Mills is very much functional and lays down the law on the subject, even if the cash-and-carry model is pursued.
The writer is a former head of the Board of Investment and federal secretary.
Email: smshah@alum.mit.edu

