From Russia with love, to Cyprus with cash

Perhaps the Russian oligarchs’ days of hassle-free, tax-free, risk-free banking are finally over...

Brits may not have known that much about Cyprus before this past week, but if you thought its only exports were olive oil, halloumi and suntans you need to add one more – money.

Of the £10.8bn invested in Russia in the third quarter of last year, £3.2bn came from Cyprus. That is 30 per cent of the total, and it was not a one-off: the Mediterranean island provided more than 24 per cent of Russian investment in 2011, and 28 per cent in 2010.

When it comes to capital flows, the closest parallel to Cyprus is on the far side of the world, on another former British island that also dominates investment into a much larger neighbour. Cyprus is Russia’s Hong Kong. So, when Cyprus announced that it would freeze bank accounts and would tax deposits over €100,000 at 9.9 per cent, its government was trying to grab a chunk of the estimated £20bn that Russians had parked there.

The Russian account-holders have failed to win the sympathy offered to ordinary Cypriots who, before parliament rejected an international bailout deal, faced losing their savings, but the eventual consequences of freezing the Russian money may prove catastrophic. The tax on deposits was intended to protect the banking system from collapse, but if the Russian money takes fright the banks may be past saving anyway.

After communism collapsed, Russians could make money in their homeland but had no confidence that their homeland would let them keep it. Cyprus saw an opportunity and, because of the time zone, lax visa regulations and a favourable tax treaty – at first, there was no withholding tax on profits leaving Russia for Cyprus, and even now it is only 5 per cent – it became the cash conduit of choice.

Since 1994, according to research from Global Financial Integrity, £518bn has left Russia illegally. That may be overstated but still, as one lawyer recently told me, it has been “the largest outflow of money since money was invented”.

Unlike Russia, Cyprus has a reliable court system and most money is safe once it’s there. Or, at least, it was until the proposed tax on deposits. Jamison Firestone, an American lawyer who has specialised in Russian taxes for two decades, struggled for an analogy to describe the shock he felt. Eventually he settled for a scene from the apocalyptic film The Day After Tomorrow where American refugees are struggling to enter Mexico. “I’m sending letters out saying, ‘Please don’t pay us into our Cypriot bank account, pay us into our Russian bank accounts, where the money is safe,’” he said.

“Everybody has put in orders to transfer all their money out. As soon as they lift the freeze on bank transfers there won’t be enough money in the banks to make those transfers. So the system will collapse anyway, even after this surprise levy.”

Much of Russia’s capital outflow, once it had bought villas in the west, went straight back into Russia: now as legal, protected, dividend-paying investment. Cyprus was the staging post on the way in and out, and it is now home to thousands of Russians, who are servicing the money, its owners and each other. My friend Tanya, who moved there with her family five years ago, describes her neighbourhood like a sunnier version of Moscow: “There are Russians everywhere, Russian shops, doctors, hairdressers. There are a couple of Russian schools, too, and lots of after-school activities for the children.”

The financial services companies that employ these children’s parents swelled to seven times Cyprus’s economy but the money was only ever passing through.

“Cyprus was low-security, low-cost, high ease of use,” Firestone said. “So it was great if you were non-political, just an ordinary Russian businessman who wanted a safe, low-cost place to hold profits. Once profits were paid out of Russia there were no more taxes.

“They have just put a tax on a lot of people who did not have to be there and who could effectively do this out of the UK or other jurisdictions.”

Among the other countries rivalling Cyprus as conduits for foreign investment are the wealthy European tax havens of Luxembourg and the Netherlands. But Richard Murphy of the Tax Justice Network doubts they could mop up the business if Russian cash leaves Cyprus. Even the Channel Islands and the Isle of Man may now be too tightly regulated.

“For the bandits, it could be Panama or the British Virgin Islands, and for those looking for security, Singapore,” he said.

No one wants to have to get up in the middle of the night to deal with his banker, so perhaps the Russian oligarchs’ days of hassle-free, tax-free, risk-free banking are finally over – until another country taps in to the money to be made in banking for them.

The Cypriot port of Limassol. Photograph: Getty Images

This article first appeared in the 25 March 2013 issue of the New Statesman, After God

Photo: Getty
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It's not WhatsApp that was at fault in the Westminster attacks. It's our prisons

Britain's criminal justice system neither deterred nor rehabilitated Khalid Masood, and may even have facilitated his radicalisation. 

The dust has settled, the evidence has been collected and the government has decided who is to blame for the attack on Westminster. That’s right, its WhatsApp and their end-to-end encryption of messages. Amber Rudd, the Home Secretary, wants tech companies to install a backdoor into messages like these that the government can then access.

There are a couple of problems here, not least that Adrian Russell aka Khalid Masood was known to the security services but considered to be low-risk. Even if the government had had the ability to gain entry to his WhatsApp, they wouldn’t have used it. Then there’s the fact that end-to-end encryption doesn’t just protect criminals and terrorists – it protects users from criminals and terrorists. Any backdoor will be vulnerable to attack, not only from our own government and foreign powers, but by non-state actors including fraudsters, and other terrorists.

(I’m parking, also, the question of whether these are powers that should be handed to any government in perpetuity, particularly one in a country like Britain’s, where near-unchecked power is handed to the executive as long as it has a parliamentary majority.)

But the biggest problem is that there is an obvious area where government policy failed in the case of Masood: Britain’s prisons system.

Masood acted alone though it’s not yet clear if he was merely inspired by international jihadism – that is, he read news reports, watched their videos on social media and came up with the plan himself – or he was “enabled” – that is, he sought out and received help on how to plan his attack from the self-styled Islamic State.

But what we know for certain is that he was, as is a recurring feature of the “radicalisation journey”, in possession of a string of minor convictions from 1982 to 2002 and that he served jail time. As the point of having prisons is surely to deter both would-be offenders and rehabilitate its current occupants so they don’t offend again, Masood’s act of terror is an open-and-shut case of failure in the prison system. Not only he did prison fail to prevent him committing further crimes, he went on to commit one very major crime.  That he appears to have been radicalised in prison only compounds the failure.

The sad thing is that not so very long ago a Secretary of State at the Ministry of Justice was thinking seriously about prison and re-offending. While there was room to critique some of Michael Gove’s solutions to that problem, they were all a hell of a lot better than “let’s ban WhatsApp”. 

Stephen Bush is special correspondent at the New Statesman. His daily briefing, Morning Call, provides a quick and essential guide to British politics.