-Caveat Lector-

from:
http://msnhomepages.talkcity.com/ReportersAlley/thecatbirdseat/GoldmanSachs.ht
m
----
FOR WALL STREET the early 1970s were wretched times. In January 1973 the Dow
had stood at 1,051 and by December 1974 it had almost halved to 578 and would
not rise above 1,000 again until 1980. For Goldman Sachs, which would
struggle with low earnings and a spate of lawsuits, this would be a
particularly difficult time.

The low point in Levy's management of the firm came in February 1979, after
the Penn Central Railroad reported dismal earnings. An official of the
National Credit Office (the agency that rated commercial paper) telephoned
Goldman Sachs, Penn Central's commercial paper issuer, to discuss the
railroad's creditworthiness. The firm reassured the official of its generally
positive view of the situation, and the paper's "prime" rating was left in
place. . . .

Goldman Sachs continued to sell Penn Central paper, but took steps that
minimized its own exposure to the securities. While still recommending the
commercial paper to customers, the firm feared that there would be little
customer demand and insisted that henceforth it would provide customers with
Penn Central paper from a "tap" -- that is, the railroad would issue a
specified amount whenever Goldman Sachs brought them an interested buyer. In
this way, Goldman Sachs would have no more than $8 million in inventory. . .
.

When Penn Central plunged into bankruptcy, panic engulfed the commercial
paper market. Investors concerned about the solvency of other issues by
Goldman Sachs--the firm had about 300 issuers at the time--rushed to redeem
their securities. Corporations all over America had to borrow from banks to
repay these short-term debts, and the Federal Reserve was forced to act to
ensure continued liquidity. ...

Goldman Sachs has assumed, incorrectly, that the Federal Reserve would rescue
the railroad by providing it with the needed liquidity. . . .

Levy testified later that at no time was he concerned about the solvency of
the railroad. Regardless, Goldman Sachs was censured by the Securities and
Exchange Commission for its actions and required to give customers more
detailed information about issuers in the future.

Despite the fact that Goldman Sachs had access to a great deal of adverse
financial information about Penn Central, the SEC said that it "did not
communicate this information to its commercial paper customers, nor did it
undertake a thorough investigation of the company. . ."

For Goldman Sachs the episode was nothing short of a disaster. The firm's
good name, nurtured for so many decades by Sidney Weinberg, was once again
tarnished, its credibility damaged, its finances precarious. . .

Clients lined up to sue the firm, with Goldman Sachs named in at least
forty-five lawsuits. The railroad had defaulted on $87 million worth of
commercial paper at the time of the bankruptcy, and the firm faced potential
lawsuits for an amount greater than the partners' capital, which stood at
only $53 million at the time.

It was a frightening time for the forty-five partners, because their personal
liability was unlimited. Although the firm did not admit liability, it
eventually settled with many clients, buying their paper back for between
twenty and twenty-five cents on the dollar and granting them some
participation in any recovery of funds that might be made from Penn Central.

In October 1974, Welch's Foods and two other plaintiffs sued the firm, and
the case went to trial.

A federal jury found Goldman Sachs guilty of defrauding its customers by
selling them Penn Central commercial paper in 1969 and 1970, when the
railroad was going broke. The firm was forced to buy back the commercial
paper from the plaintiffs at its face value plus interest. . . .

* * *

In October 1976, Levy suffered a stroke and collapsed while chairing a board
meeting . . . Leaderless, the firm was left in turmoil. . . .

* * *

The author writes that the two leading contenders for Levy's leadership seat
were John Whitehead and Sidney Weinberg's son, John L. Weinberg, and that
eventually they were elected to co-chair the firm. Sidney, according to the
author, had given his son advice about the business, and relates a story
about him sending John to see Floyd Odlum, the man to whom he had sold the
Goldman Sachs Trading Corporation:

While the other meetings John attended may have produced some sound advice,
Odlum's words still ring in John's ears some fifty years later . . . Odlum
offered the younger Weinberg these prophetic words of advice: "I am going to
do something for you. I will give you this book, but you have to promise me
that for the whole rest of your career, you will keep a copy of this book and
refer to it. . . ."

The book was Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds by Charles McKay,
originally published in 1841. "Watch for the excesses," Odlum warned. "No one
is going to tell you what they are or when they will arise; each time they
will look different." Excesses will be taken care of by the marketplace, he
told the younger man, but as each generation forgets the lessons of the last,
the same mistakes are made again.

He cautioned that success would come only to those who could recognize and
correctly value risk. Weinberg took the book and the elder man's advice to
heart. To this day he keeps a copy of the book in each of his offices . . .

Odlum's words of advice ultimately saved Goldman Sachs from hundreds of
millions of dollars in losses in business the firm walked away from.

Goldman Sachs's success in the 1980s can be attributed not only to what it
did but perhaps, more important, what it did not do. Goldman Sachs steered
clear of making hazardous bridge loans (short-term loans made by investment
banks until public funding becomes available) and involved itself in few
failed leveraged buyouts. . . .

* * *

By the 1970s, Levy's legacy had passed to consummate trader Robert Rubin . . .

The 1980s would mirror the 1920s with an eerie deja vu. The market rally, the
ensuing crash, the financial scandals, the merciless government
investigations -- all had been witnessed sixty years earlier. . . .

The takeover wave would bring new and unimagined opportunities, as hostile
tenders and "greenmail" provided price aberrations of the kind that
arbitrageurs thrive upon.

Working with a $1 billion portfolio of securities, Rubin and his half dozen
assistants immersed themselves in the takeover mania of the 1980s.

Robert Freeman was Rubin's number one assistant, soon becoming a partner in
the division.

* * *

For years the "Chinese Wall" -- the veil of secrecy intended to keep
confidential information from traveling from one department to another --
between banking and arbitrage was paper thin. Bankers all over Wall Street
hopped the divide with frightening regularity, consulting with traders about
the market's perception of a deal . . .

The risk arbitrage department at Goldman Sachs acted as in-house consultant
to the firm's merger specialists in a way that was entirely legal.
Arbitrageurs provided expert advice in evaluating the complexities of a deal
and calculating the potential market reaction...

Consultations between the two departments would continue until 1986, when the
trading environment on Wall Street and what was considered acceptable
practice changed radically...

On May 12, 1986, Dennis Levine, an investment banker at Drexel Burnham Lambert
, was arrested and charged with making $12 million on insider trading. . . .
the stories remained on the front pages of newspapers of the nation until the
end of the decade. By then, dozens of individuals had been arrested, their
firms humiliated, as billionaires traded in their mansions for jail cells.

* * *

The SEC investigations that began in 1986 changed the entire climate on Wall
Street. Previously accepted and legal practices came under scrutiny as firms
tightened their internal controls in response to a more thorough and
aggressive SEC. Many of the accepted practices at Goldman Sachs and other
firms that allowed arbitrageurs unimpeded access to information -- talking
with the bankers working on a particular deal, for example -- would be
closely scrutinized and after 1986 changed dramatically. . . .

No one dreamed of the damage a minor figure at a second-rate firm could do to
Goldman Sachs.

. . . Information provided by Levine resulted in the arrest of a group of
relatively junior bankers from Shearson Lehman, Lazard Freres, and Goldman
Sachs. These young men had made relatively little or nothing from their
illegal activities but would pay a huge price.

The Goldman Sachs banker, who pleaded guilty, was very junior and left the
firm immediately. Then, in a desperate plea bargain agreement, Levine offered
up Ivan Boesky, the best-known arbitrageur of the day. Boesky had preached
greed, financial success, and self-interest as acceptable, even morally
laudable goals. . .

* * *

On November 14, 1986, Boesky was arrested, pled guilty to charges of insider
trading, and paid the then unheard-of fine of $100 million.

He, in turn, implicated Martin Siegal, a well-respected and successful banker
and merger expert who recently had moved from solid Kidder Peabody to more
daring Drexel. Siegal had accepted suitcases of cash in exchange for tipping
Boesky about upcoming takeovers.

Seigel then pointed his finger directly at Robert Freeman, chief of risk
arbitrage, head of international equities, and trusted partner of Goldman
Sachs.

On the snowy morning of February 12, 1987, special deputy U.S. Marshall
Thomas Doonan and two postal inspectors, all armed, walked onto the 29th
floor trading room of Goldman Sachs. They quickly located Freeman and asked
him to step into his glass-fronted office. There they lowered the blinds and
told the shocked Freeman that he was under arrest. . .

Goldman Sachs and much of the financial world was in shock. This was a
partner of the firm with the cleanest reputation on Wall Street. . . .
Freeman was a high-ranking partner who had worked with both Rubin and
Friedman, and Goldman Sachs would not distance itself from him.

Many within the firm have suggested that it was ... the culture of the firm,
its commitments to sticking by those in trouble, that caused the firm to
pursue Freeman's defense so doggedly. A more cynical explanation is that in a
private partnership, where liability is unlimited, there is a strong
incentive to diminish the guilt of any member of the team. . . .

* * *

For two years the firm's top management was consumed with Freeman's defense.
. . . On April 9, 1987, Freeman was indicted on federal charges of conspiracy
to violate securities laws.

On Feb 12, 1988 ... James Stewart and Daniel Hertzberg, both Pulitzer
Prize-winning editors and writers for the Wall Street Journal, wrote an
article that would change the course of events. Based on their own
investigation, the story alleged a detailed catalogue of misdeeds by Freeman
in his relationship with Siegel, all but one of which Freeman would staunchly
deny. . .

It was the final allegation -- the one concerning the now famous "bunny"
comment -- that would be Freeman's undoing. . . . In October 1985, the
leveraged buyout firm of Kohlberg, Kravis, Roberts and Co. (KKR) had offered
almost $5 billion, at $45 a share, for Beatrice Corporation, in what was the
largest leveraged buyout to date. . . .

Martin Siegel was one of KKR's investment bankers. . . . The bid was raised
to $47 on Oct 29, and Freeman purchased shares of Beatrice for both the
firm's arbitrage account ($66 million) and his personal account ($1.5 million)
 after details of the increased offer were made public. On Nov 14, Beatrice
and KKR announced an agreement on a price of $50 per share, $43 in cash and
$7 in securities. Freeman was so confident that this bid would go through
that he invested almost 40 percent of his family's "at risk" trading accounts
in Beatrice. . .

On Jan 6, KKR began to fear that the deal could not be financed at that lofty
price. The next morning, Freeman bought an additional 22,500 shares in
Beatrice for his own account. During the day, trading volume was heavy ...
and the price edged downward, which concerned Freeman. At the end of the day,
Goldman Sachs's position was worth approximately $66 million, or $16 million
over the usual limit for friendly takeover situations. . .

On Jan 7, Goldman Sachs executed a large sale for a well-known arbitrageur
named Dick Nye. When Freeman learned of this trade he grew even more
concerned. During the course of that afternoon Freeman spoke to Marty Siegel
three times and once to Henry Kravis of KKR... Freeman then proceeded to sell
all the shares he had purchased that morning.

The following morning, Jan 8, Freeman put orders in the market to sell his
entire personal holding and to reduce Goldman Sachs's position to below the
$50 million level. Later that morning, a floor trader known as Bernard
"Bunny" Lasker called Freeman to say he had heard that there was a problem
with the Beatrice deal. Freeman telephoned Siegel, KKR's banker.

According to Freeman, "I told Mr. Siegel that I had heard there was a problem
with the Beatrice LBO. He asked from whom I had heard that. When I answered
Bunny Lasker, Martin Siegel said, 'Your bunny has a good nose'."

Early that afternoon, an announcement was made that the deal would be
restructured . . . The share price of Beatrice immediately dropped $4,
closing the day at $43.25. . . . The options sales that followed Freeman's
conversation with Siegel had saved the firm $548,000. . .

By the summer of 1989, worn down by the lengthy legal process, Freeman was
ready to plead guilty to the "bunny" charge. . . .

On April 17, 1990, Freeman was sentenced to one year, with eight months
suspended, of which he served one hundred nine days (including time off for
good behavior) at Saufley Federal Prison Camp in Florida. He was also fined
$1.1 million by the SEC . . .

After Freeman's admission of guilt, the government dropped any further
investigation and Goldman Sachs sought to put the entire episode behind it. .
. .

* * *

THE CHANGING OF THE GUARD, heralded for so long, finally came to pass on Dec
1, 1990, when Steve Friedman and Robert Rubin were named senior partners and
co-chairmen of the management committee. . . .

* * *

GOLDMAN SACHS entered the 1990s in an extremely strong position relative to
its American investment banking competition. . . .

After years of indulging in speculative financing vehicles, there was now a
price to pay for the excesses of the decade. For Drexel there would be
Chapter 11, scandal rocked E. F. Hutton, and Kidder Peabody would be sold.

First Boston, one of the firm's major competitors in mergers and
acquisitions, would be stretched to the limit by ill-advised bridge loans
(short-term unsecured loans, many of which looked good in the 1980s and
failed in the early 1990s) and later aided by its wealthy parent, Credit
Suisse.

Lehman Brothers, once one of Goldman Sachs's most formidable investment
banking competitors, would be torn apart by political infighting and forced
to sell itself to the American Express conglomerate.

The SEC investigation of Solomon Brothers's activities in the government bond
market followed by the departure of its chairman John Gutfreund would weaken
this once-insurmountable competitor, allowing Goldman Sachs's fixed income
department to escape from its enormous shadow. . . .

In the 1970s, Gus Levy had sold the firm's asset management business because
he did not want to compete with the firm's clients. . . .

The notion of not competing with clients, however, would soon become
ludicrous as clients began to compete with their investment bankers and the
margins on many client businesses collapsed. Companies like General Electric
would initiate their own asset management business, and American
International Group (AIG), the insurance giant, would become a major force in
derivatives products. . . .

* * *

GOLDMAN SACHS had been expanding the size of its partnership steadily for
decades. There had been fifty partners in 1973; there were seventy-five in
1983 and one hundred fifty by 1993. But as the size of the partnership
increased, the profits of the firm had to grow at breakneck speed if existing
partners' income levels were to be maintained. . . .

With his ascendency in 1990, Rubin openly discussed with the partnership the
need for an expanding pie . . .

In addition to the firm's limited partners (retired partners who choose to
leave capital in the firm), Goldman Sachs has taken on three groups of
financial partners. Sumitomo's investments in 1986 entitled the Japanese bank
to 12.5 percent of the firm's annual profits.

Kamehameha Schools/Bishop Estate, the giant Hawaiian education trust, which
also made two major cash infusions into the firm, first in 1992 and again in
1994, receives about 11 percent of what the firm makes every year. Finally, a
group of insurers has injected $225 million into the capital structure.

Limited partners do not receive a percentage of the profits, but rather
receive interest rate payments as compensation for the use of their capital.
Payments made to outsider investors, before the partners see a dime, have run
between $300 million and $400 million a year. . . .

Goldman Sachs will go down in history as the last major partnership on Wall
Street. . .

* * *

Quoting one former partner: "Greed changed the firm, and the view was to take
as much risk as we can, and make it as fast as we can." . . .

* * *

"NINETEEN EIGHTY-SIX," Institutional Investor magazine proclaimed, "was the
year they sold Wall Street." During the five preceding years John Weinberg
had watched his major competitors incorporate, merge, or simply cease to
exist. . . .

"GOLDMAN SACHS, TOO, SOLD A BIT OF ITSELF IN 1986. The roots of the
transaction took hold the year before when one morning a man who refused to
identify himself telephoned Ann Ericson, John Weinberg's secretary. Would Mr.
Weinberg, he asked, be in the office on a Tuesday, three weeks hence? . . .

Two weeks later the same unidentified caller contacted Ericson to confirm the
date, and this time she indicated that Weinberg would be in the office. When
the appointed day arrived two Japanese men, a speaker and his interpreter,
appeared in Weinberg's office.

The man who spoke only Japanese identified himself through his assistant: I
am the president of Sumitomo Bank, Koh Komatsu told Weinberg. I came here in
disguise to see you.

Komatsu had tried to hide his tracks. From Tokyo he flew to Seattle,
Washington. There he changed planes for a flight to Washington, D.C. From
Washington, he boarded the shuttle to La Guardia. He felt certain that he had
made the journey undetected. . . .

Weinberg was baffled by the visit. He had no way of knowing that Sumitomo
Bank had long been interested in gaining a toehold in the U. S. investment
banking market and had been looking at Goldman Sachs. Sumitomo, at that time
the world's third largest and Japan's most profitable bank . . .

As Weinberg listened to Komatsu's proposal he was amazed. The valuation given
to Goldman Sachs by Sumitomo was far above the firm's own. Komatsu was
offering cash, an equity injection, in return for a share of the profits.

The deal was almost too good to be true. By offering to make a $500 million
investment in exchange for 12.5 percent of the firm's profits, Sumitomo was
implicitly valuing Goldman Sachs at $4 billion -- four times book value.
Morgan Stanley had just floated itself at under three times book value, and
other publicly traded investment banks were selling for less.

The deal, it was stipulated, would be conducted in total secrecy, with
Goldman Sachs acting as its own investment banker. . . ."

* * *
-----
Aloha, He'Ping,
Om, Shalom, Salaam.
Em Hotep, Peace Be,
All My Relations.
Omnia Bona Bonis,
Adieu, Adios, Aloha.
Amen.
Roads End

<A HREF="http://www.ctrl.org/";>www.ctrl.org</A>
DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER
==========
CTRL is a discussion & informational exchange list. Proselytizing propagandic
screeds are unwelcomed. Substance—not soap-boxing—please!  These are
sordid matters and 'conspiracy theory'—with its many half-truths, mis-
directions and outright frauds—is used politically by different groups with
major and minor effects spread throughout the spectrum of time and thought.
That being said, CTRLgives no endorsement to the validity of posts, and
always suggests to readers; be wary of what you read. CTRL gives no
credence to Holocaust denial and nazi's need not apply.

Let us please be civil and as always, Caveat Lector.
========================================================================
Archives Available at:
http://peach.ease.lsoft.com/archives/ctrl.html
 <A HREF="http://peach.ease.lsoft.com/archives/ctrl.html";>Archives of
[EMAIL PROTECTED]</A>

http:[EMAIL PROTECTED]/
 <A HREF="http:[EMAIL PROTECTED]/";>ctrl</A>
========================================================================
To subscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email:
SUBSCRIBE CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED]

To UNsubscribe to Conspiracy Theory Research List[CTRL] send email:
SIGNOFF CTRL [to:] [EMAIL PROTECTED]

Om

Reply via email to