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Philippine Business Magazine: Volume 8 No.1 - Cover
Misreading The Times
Estrada's downfall caught even the savviest of market pros flat-footed. One such authority narrated his experience to the Asian Wall Street Journal, excerpts of which are reprinted below
By Anton Periquet

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I thought I had it all figured out - the capital markets would force President Estrada out before the end of his six-year term. There was no way that an open economy in the 21st century could withstand, much less support, a character like Estrada. So day after day I watched anxiously as frustrated investors marked down Philippine assets and gave up on the country. I had seen this before back in 1986, as a guileless graduate student who could only marvel as battered peso assets doubled and redoubled after Marcos was deposed. Little did I suspect that fate would be kind enough to grant me a second chance to reap more than just an academic lesson from the experience.

Yet I was caught flat-footed when Estrada fell from power on 19 January, less than half way into his term. History had indeed repeated itself in the form what is now universally called "People Power." But the market pros, like the ex-president's coterie of Rasputins, were caught napping. Both the peso and the local stock market were on their knees just before it happened - so ripe for the picking. Where did I go wrong?

Investors began to turn cool on the Philippines in May 1999, long before the infamous BW scandal nearly shut down the stock exchange last year. The trigger was the government-aided sale of the much-coveted PCI Bank by its owners to the politically-favored Equitable Bank. Shortly after, the exodus of foreign capital began. Balance of payments data tell it all. In 1999, Estrada's first year in office, the economy registered a massive current account surplus worth 9% of its GDP, thanks to booming electronics exports and OCW remittances. Yet the peso lost 4% of its dollar value that year, as nearly the entire surplus was lost to capital flight. With local investors themselves losing heart, the equilibrium just wasn't sustainable.

The pattern continued through 2000, as the president became more brazen in his economic adventurism. Yet among the chattering classes - many of whom had already placed their savings in dollars - few appeared to challenge the popular premise that Estrada would survive his term. Most experts envisaged the economy muddling through to his exit in 2004.

"Muddle through?" I asked myself. With due respect, the experts appeared to be clinging to a 1980s model of economic reality that was now obsolete. Could an open economy simply "muddle through" in this hi-tech age of perfect information and capital mobility? Surely, as the capital employed sought better returns elsewhere, it would eventually starve of liquidity and go bust - bust unless Estrada was ousted. So was there a financial opportunity here?

And so it was when an estranged friend broke ranks last October and exposed the president for pocketing kickbacks from illegal gambling. Under siege, Estrada played the class card, painting the brouhaha as a bourgeois conspiracy to bring down a pro-poor president. The ploy worked, as the star-struck masses stood by the hero, but the financial markets began to buckle. Something had to be done to clear the president and calm the markets. Hence the impeachment trial, whereby Estrada agreed to place his fate in the hands of the nation's supposedly impartial 21-man Senate.

"He's finished," I thought, with the only unknown being timeframe. I stuck my neck out on "late February" shortly after the Senate had promised to deliver a verdict. Like most Filipinos, I expected the Senate to acquit the president regardless of the evidence. Then I thought all hell would break loose in the streets, causing the financial markets to panic one last time. This, I thought, would be the time to bet the farm. For shortly after, through some combination of social, military, diplomatic, and financial pressure, Estrada would fall.

Then it all happened. Late on a Tuesday evening, 16 January, thousands of mobile-phone wielding college students and young professionals who had been following the trial on TV took to the streets after the senate voted to suppress vital evidence against the president. Text messages clogged up the nation's four million mobile phones, beckoning all to gather around the EDSA Shrine, the spot where the people had assembled to oust Marcos fifteen years ago.

It was half past midnight when I drove by with my wife, for research purposes as well as to be counted. At 2:30 a.m. I returned home, putting the crowd at no more than 10,000. "It's early days," I explained in a memo to investors the next day, replete with the authority of one who had been there before. It took a rigged election, a three-week simmering period and a foiled coup attempt to get a million people out to the streets back in 1986. What we must first see is the usual buildup - civil disobedience, a major bank-run, and a final attack on the peso.

But just two days later, on a Friday afternoon after the markets had shut, the Estrada Government collapsed from a wave of defections among the military and cabinet. Vice President Gloria Arroyo was sworn in as president the very next day and both the shares of PLDT traded overseas and the peso shot through the roof. Without doubt the markets would open higher on Monday. I had missed it. Where did I go wrong? Why didn't the people wait until the economy was closer to collapse?
As I strolled through the carnival-like atmosphere among the one million people celebrating at EDSA that Saturday, I had decidedly mixed feelings. I was outwardly disgusted at myself, an experienced finance professional, for missing the turn the second time around. Yet I was also quietly cheered by the realization that my own model's now-obsolete predictive abilities meant that not just the capital markets had changed in this seemingly luckless nation of 80 million. The Filipino had grown up. Perhaps it wasn't too late to buy.

Anton Periquet is Managing Director and Head of Research of Regis Partners, Inc., the Philippine equities arm of the Deutsche Bank Group


 
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