Argentina loses New York court case, owes vulture fund $1.3bn

Elliott Capital Management must now be paid at the same time Argentina pays its normal bondholders.

Fresh off its success in seizing a 100m-long tall ship owned by the Argentine navy from a Ghanaian port, Elliott Capital Management – the biggest and boldest of Argentina's "vulture funds" – has secured what looks like a final victory over the country in the New York courts. Argentina is now caught in the unenviable position of either paying back debt which it thought it had defaulted on a decade ago (and which Argentine president Cristina Kirchner has sworn not to do), or default on entirely new debt, which it has both the will and the funds to stay current on.

The problem Elliott has had is that Argentina, as a sovereign nation, can't be bound by any court judgement. Once it decides not to pay up on bonds – as it did when it defaulted on its debt in late 2001 – there is very little its creditors can do.

As a result, after the default, the value of the bonds plummeted well below face value. Most creditors were happy to swap the defaulted bonds for new, lower-value ones, which ensured they at least got something, but some – like Elliott – decided to hold out for the full payment.

Elliott had pursued a nuisance strategy – seizing Argentine assets which had ended up under other nations' jurisdiction, like the sailing ship ARA Libertad – but at the same time, the hedge fund, which now holds bonds with a face value of well over $1bn, has been attempting to force the country to pay up on the total amount.

Faced with an inability to directly affect Argentina's actions, the fund has instead gone after an organisation it whose hand it can force: the Bank of New York. The bank is responsible for issuing Argentina's present-day debt, issued since the default. The judgement Elliott has won forces BoNY to pay them with the money Argentina hands over to pay its bondholders.

This is legally problematic at two levels. In the specific case, it means that BoNY and Argentina's current bondholders are being penalised for a case which they have nothing to do with. BoNY in particular is caught in a bind – either it breaks its legal obligations to the court, or to its bondholders. And the bondholders are doubly screwed. If Argentina doesn't pay the holdouts – and Argentina has a thing about not paying holdouts – then money which they are legally owed, and which Argentina is legally trying to get to them, will instead go to Elliott (and presumably other holdouts who will follow a similar route in court).

And in general, it's a worrying precedent for future sovereigns hoping to restructure their debt. There is no bankruptcy procedure for nations, but it is still perfectly possible for their debt to pile up to such an extent that they – and possibly their creditors, in aggregate – would be better off restructuring it. That just got slightly more difficult. If the precedent stands, then any sovereign holding bonds administered through the US can expect to have to pay them off, in full, no matter what their finances are. (Greece, are you listening?)

All of which means that we can probably expect Argentina to take the only other route open to it: default – again – and offer new bonds at face value, but issued under Argentine law. Bondholders shouldn't lose too much money, but they will lose a lot of security (if, that is, they haven't already). Argentina's reputation, slowly rebuilding after the initial default, will take another hit. And Elliott – which holds a lot of insurance against an Argentine default – will actually make quite a lot of money. Which makes the whole thing seem rather counter-productive on Argentina's part.

The ARA Libertad, the ship seized in Ghana. Photograph: Getty Images

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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Brexit is teaching the UK that it needs immigrants

Finally forced to confront the economic consequences of low migration, ministers are abandoning the easy rhetoric of the past.

Why did the UK vote to leave the EU? For conservatives, Brexit was about regaining parliamentary sovereignty. For socialists it was about escaping the single market. For still more it was a chance to punish David Cameron and George Osborne. But supreme among the causes was the desire to reduce immigration.

For years, as the government repeatedly missed its target to limit net migration to "tens of thousands", the EU provided a convenient scapegoat. The free movement of people allegedly made this ambition unachievable (even as non-European migration oustripped that from the continent). When Cameron, the author of the target, was later forced to argue that the price of leaving the EU was nevertheless too great, voters were unsurprisingly unconvinced.

But though the Leave campaign vowed to gain "control" of immigration, it was careful never to set a formal target. As many of its senior figures knew, reducing net migration to "tens of thousands" a year would come at an economic price (immigrants make a net fiscal contribution of £7bn a year). An OBR study found that with zero net migration, public sector debt would rise to 145 per cent of GDP by 2062-63, while with high net migration it would fall to 73 per cent. For the UK, with its poor productivity and sub-par infrastructure, immigration has long been an economic boon. 

When Theresa May became Prime Minister, some cabinet members hoped that she would abolish the net migration target in a "Nixon goes to China" moment. But rather than retreating, the former Home Secretary doubled down. She regards the target as essential on both political and policy grounds (and has rejected pleas to exempt foreign students). But though the same goal endures, Brexit is forcing ministers to reveal a rarely spoken truth: Britain needs immigrants.

Those who boasted during the referendum of their desire to reduce the number of newcomers have been forced to qualify their remarks. On last night's Question Time, Brexit secretary David Davis conceded that immigration woud not invariably fall following Brexit. "I cannot imagine that the policy will be anything other than that which is in the national interest, which means that from time to time we’ll need more, from time to time we’ll need less migrants."

Though Davis insisted that the government would eventually meet its "tens of thousands" target (while sounding rather unconvinced), he added: "The simple truth is that we have to manage this problem. You’ve got industry dependent on migrants. You’ve got social welfare, the national health service. You have to make sure they continue to work."

As my colleague Julia Rampen has charted, Davis's colleagues have inserted similar caveats. Andrea Leadsom, the Environment Secretary, who warned during the referendum that EU immigration could “overwhelm” Britain, has told farmers that she recognises “how important seasonal labour from the EU is to the everyday running of your businesses”. Others, such as the Health Secretary, Jeremy Hunt, the Business Secretary, Greg Clark, and the Communities Secretary, Sajid Javid, have issued similar guarantees to employers. Brexit is fuelling immigration nimbyism: “Fewer migrants, please, but not in my sector.”

The UK’s vote to leave the EU – and May’s decision to pursue a "hard Brexit" – has deprived the government of a convenient alibi for high immigration. Finally forced to confront the economic consequences of low migration, ministers are abandoning the easy rhetoric of the past. Brexit may have been caused by the supposed costs of immigration but it is becoming an education in its benefits.

George Eaton is political editor of the New Statesman.