Bad politics, baffling diplomacy - Osborne's stance on bank bonuses

The government's posturing is about little more than saying enough to keep the eurosceptics quiet.

Of all the unpopular causes to take up, defending bank bonuses must rank pretty high up the list. That still applies even if it is the EU, rather than the House of Commons, doing the legislating.

But that doesn't seem to have deterred David Cameron. Yesterday George Osborne stood alone in opposition to a deal that could make the European banking sector safer and more transparent and which contains a number of major reforms actively pushed by the UK.
 
First, a disclaimer. The Capital Requirements legislation is not really about bonuses or bankers' pay. Instead, it focuses on increasing the amount of core capital banks must hold on their balance sheet. A lack of sufficient good quality capital combined with a liquidity crisis when the money markets seized up, were the two main causes of the 2007-9 banking crisis. More than five years on, the European and US economies are still yet to recover.
 
Increasing the minimum levels of capital to be held on their balance sheets and establishing rules to control leverage ratios will bring more safety to the banking sector. Moreover, the introduction of country-by-country reporting, which will require European banks to disclose how much tax they pay is another welcome breakthrough that will increase transparency and rebuild public trust in the banking sector. Like the country-by-country reporting, new rules on bank pay were among the baubles added to the tree.
 
The provisions on bonus payments are among the most complicated parts of an already highly technical piece of law. This strict 1:1 cap will be the norm but banks will be able to pay bonuses worth double salary on a majority vote among shareholders. Meanwhile, with up to 25 per cent of the bonus able to be made in deferred bonds or securities there is scope to spread out payments or make them dependent on long-term performance.
 
What I suspect is that the government's posturing is about little more than saying enough to keep the eurosceptics quiet. Boris Johnson, who has been consistent and vocal in his opposition to the regulation, quickly denounced the agreement as "self-defeating" and "deluded". The Prime Minister, correctly guessing that Thursday's by-election might lead to more questions about his leadership and the threat from UKIP, chose to add his two penn'orth.
 
But it is difficult to take the government's opposition at face value. First of all, this is not a case of Britain vs Europe. There have been a glut of EU laws regulating different parts of the financial sector since the financial crisis - short selling, the derivatives market, hedge funds and insurance just to name a few. Guess how many times Britain has been outvoted in the Council of Ministers by those perfidious foreigners? Zero, nada, zilch - it hasn't happened since the last European elections in 2009.
 
For all the hyperbole likely to dominate the pages of Conservative Home and the right-wing press, the British government has not been marginalised in the negotiations on CRD IV. On the contrary, it has led them and, indeed, wanted to go further than the European Commission on the level of core capital that banks should be required to hold. While it is true that the British government had expressed reservations about the bonus cap, a government official I spoke with described CRD IV as "a crucially important piece of legislation".
 
The same is true in the European Parliament. Liberal Democrat MEP Sharon Bowles and Conservative Vicky Ford, who were part of the Parliament's six-member negotiating team, both spoke favourably of the agreement at a press conference on Thursday last week. One of the Parliament's most vocal critics of the City, Green MEP Philippe Lamberts, another member of the Parliament's negotiating team, said that he had "felt like a Briton" on "most topics" covered by the legislation.
 
Ford went further, saying that the public "need to know how much banks are paying in tax". Referring to the exemption allowing bonuses to be paid in long-dated bonds or securities, she added that "the long-dated pay element should be examined before they (bankers) start screaming".
 
Besides, rules on bank pay should hardly be controversial at a time when pay levels in both the public and private sector are being tightly controlled. The Independent was among those arguing last week that politicians should not legislate on private sector pay. This might hold water if the banking sector had shown an iota of willingness to self-regulate to curb excessive pay. They have not, and too many top banking executives are still receiving multi-million pound rewards for presiding over multi-million or billion pound losses.
 
There is precious little the government can do to block a cap and they know it. The Irish government, which currently holds the six month rotating presidency of the Council of Ministers, would not have offered the compromise unless it was confident that all governments would sign up to it. For its part, the Parliament, which has given up tighter rules on bank leverage ratios in exchange for the bonus cap, will not want to unpick a painstakingly reached agreement and wants the symbolic victory of the bonus cap. Although other countries are anxious for Britain to vote in favour, the bill will be adopted by a qualified majority by ministers and the European Parliament, so there is no scope for a veto.
 
By promising to hold an 'in/out' referendum early in the next Parliament, Cameron is already running a high risk strategy on Europe. If he wants other countries to look kindly on the prospect of giving more opt-outs and exemptions to Britain then he needs allies and he needs to pick his battles wisely. Holding up vitally important legislation on bank capital for the sake of a losing battle on behalf of a few thousand multi-millionaires in the Square Mile is not just bad politics, but bad economics too.
 
Ben Fox is a reporter for EU Observer. He writes in a personal capacity
Chancellor George Osborne is pictured prior to an Economic and Financial Affairs Council on March 5, 2013 at the EU headquarters in Brussels. Photograph: Getty Images.
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“We don’t BeLiviu”: how Romania is rising against corruption

Night after night, activists gather in Victory Square to demand the resignation of the government.

For much of the year, the large tarmac square in front of the main government building in Bucharest is little more than a glorified roundabout, busy with traffic and surrounded by towering, communist-era blocks on one side and a wedge-shaped park on the other.

But when Romanians gather to protest, as they have done these past weeks in record numbers, it becomes a place of pent-up frustration; against the ruling class, the direction in which the country is heading and the way many politicians continue to use the public purse as a source of cash for their personal use. This was not how it was supposed to be, ten years after the country joined the European Union.

On 31 January Romania’s new government, in power for less than a month, sneaked in a piece of emergency legislation during a late-night session to weaken the punishment for abuse of power, negligence while in office and conflict of interest. In effect, the move decriminalised some forms of corruption, if the financial damage caused amounted to less than roughly £38,000.

Many Romanians and international observers saw it as a brazen attempt to help politicians facing legal problems, prominent among them Liviu Dragnea, the leader of Romania’s largest political party, the Social Democrats, and the president of the Chamber of Deputies (Romania’s House of Commons). Dragnea is facing trial for supposedly getting colleagues added to the public payroll even though they do not work for the state. He is one of many public officials facing a day in court; in fact, he has already faced the courts, earning a 2015 conviction for electoral fraud that barred him from becoming prime minister despite his party’s strong showing in parliamentary elections last December.

The backlash against the ordinance was swift, as night after night tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands, and, once, half a million took to the streets to protest. On 5 February, between 500,000 and 600,000 people protested across Romania, with 300,000 in the government square alone. Demonstrations have also taken place in 50 towns and cities in the country, as well as in the Romanian diaspora.

The government backed down on its immediate plans and repealed the decree, but trust was by then long gone. Protests are now in their third week and, despite snowfall, show little sign of ending.

“This government needs to go. You can’t be elected in December and have hundreds of thousands on the streets in a month,” said Dorial Ilie, a 33-year-old PR worker, one cold evening in the square.

Romanians are fed up with corruption. The country sits 57th in Transparency International’s corruption perceptions index – up from 69th place in 2014, but corruption remains endemic, and Romania is near the bottom of the list when it comes to EU countries.

Despite the efforts of the country’s much-admired National Anti-corruption Directorate (DNA), set up in 2003 and responsible for the successful prosecution of thousands of politicians, civil servants, judges and business leaders, there is a sense that the rich and powerful still operate as if they were above the law. This was certainly not helped by the attempts to change the anti-corruption legislation.

“They had been planning to do this for years,” said Dan Popescu, a 46-year-old priest protesting in the square, echoing the sentiments of many of those around him.

The demonstrations, the largest in the country since the fall of Nicolae Ceausescu in 1989, have been an impressive display of people power in a country that is increasingly using the streets as a communication platform. Large-scale protests in Romania also brought down the last elected government in November 2015, after corruption was blamed for a fire in a Bucharest nightclub that left 64 dead, and before that, mass protests during the 2014 presidential election, this time over mismanagement of diaspora voting, arguably helped tip the balance in favour of the now-incumbent, Klaus Iohannis.

Protesters are hoping for a similar impact this time around, although, having survived a no-confidence vote in parliament on 8 February, the new government shows little willingness to depart.

At the same time, most of those gathering night after night in Victory Square – as the drab square outside the government building is officially known – are still loudly demanding the resignation of the government, but would probably settle for the resignations of Dragnea and the prime minister, Sorin Grindeanu.

After so many nights standing out in the cold, protesters have become very creative. Elaborate banners filled with puns (“We don’t BeLiviu”) have appeared, as have messages written with lasers and projected on to nearby buildings. Some have shone the Batman symbol on to the roof of a nearby museum, a funny (or perhaps desperate) plea for help. The national anthem is often sung. On Sunday, a sea of protesters held up pieces of paper coloured over their phone lights to create a vast Romanian flag.

Despite these touches of humour and inventiveness, there is a steely determination evident and it has only grown since the first night or two.

On 13 February the national parliament approved a referendum related to the fight against corruption, as proposed by the protest-supporting president. But most of those on the streets these past weeks would argue that they have already given their opinion on the matter.

Many Romanians are increasingly frustrated that they have to head out to protest time and again in order to hold their elected officials to account. Few believe that the present political class can change. “They’ll try again, in another way. Maybe in parliament, where they have a majority,” said Ioana David, an administrative worker for a construction company.

Even so, she – like so many others – is likely to continue to go out into Victory Square in the days and perhaps weeks ahead, in order to make sure her voice gets heard.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times