On the Brink (32 page)

The president was admirably stalwart. Even though the predominant mood at the time, both generally and on the Hill, was against bailouts, President Bush didn’t care. His goal was to leave the country in as strong a financial position as possible for his successor. Skeptics may doubt me, but this is the truth: In any accurate recounting of the financial crisis, you won’t find the president playing politics with these decisions—not one instance. He was genuinely trying to do his best for the country as he backed our AIG rescue plan.

“If we suffer political damage, so be it,” he said.

Afterward I got confirmation of what Chris had said about the Reserve Fund. While we were with the president, the Reserve had announced that it would halt payment of redemptions for one week on its Primary Fund, a $63 billion money market fund that was caught with $785 million in Lehman short-term debt when the investment bank entered bankruptcy. On Monday, investors had flooded the company with requests for redemptions; by mid-afternoon Tuesday, $40 billion had been pulled. The fund had officially broken the buck, the first to do so since 1994, when the Denver-based U.S. Government Money Market Fund, which had invested heavily in adjustable-rate derivatives, fell to 96 cents.

The sense of panic was becoming more widespread. Dave McCormick and Ken Wilson came in to tell me that they had heard from their Wall Street sources that a number of Chinese banks were withdrawing large sums from the money market funds. They had also heard that the Chinese were pulling back on secured overnight lending and shortening the maturity of their holdings of Fannie and Freddie paper—all signs of their battening the hatches. I asked Dave to track down the Chinese rumors and report back to me as soon as possible.

While we were in the PWG meeting, Morgan Stanley released its third-quarter earnings, rushing them out a day early. Its reported $1.43 billion in profits were down 7.6 percent from a year earlier but better than expected. Not that it helped much: after briefly rallying, Morgan Stanley’s shares fell 10.8 percent on the day, to $28.70, while its CDS rates ended at 728 basis points, after spiking to 880 basis points at one point. Goldman Sachs had released its earnings that morning: at $845 million, its net income was down 70.4 percent from the previous year.

Later I got an earful from John Mack, who said Morgan Stanley was in jeopardy. John was a strong leader, at once personable and tough. He was no whiner, but I could tell he was scared. What he had predicted Sunday night had come to pass: investors were losing confidence, and the short sellers were after his bank. His cash reserves were evaporating, and he was doing everything he could to hold things together.

“Hank,” John said, “the SEC needs to act before the short sellers destroy Morgan Stanley.”

Since Monday he had been calling senators, congressmen, the White House, and me, trying to persuade everyone to push the SEC to do something about abusive short selling. He wasn’t alone. John Thain also called that afternoon to press about short selling. Shareholders had not yet approved Merrill’s deal with Bank of America, and he was taking nothing for granted. But his immediate concern was Morgan Stanley. The failure of another major institution, he knew, would be devastating.

Ben and I had arranged to meet with congressional leaders that evening, but first Tim and I had to call AIG chief Bob Willumstad to confirm that the Fed was on track to make the loan—and to tell him that he was being replaced. He had been CEO for just three months; before that he had served as AIG chairman after a long financial services career that included retail banking at Citigroup. He was highly regarded for his acumen and integrity, but with AIG he had encountered more than he could handle—perhaps more than anyone could have handled. Through it all, Willumstad was an incredible gentleman, even calling Ken Wilson and voluntarily forfeiting the severance payments that were written into his management contract.

I next had to make arrangements to go to the Hill. In the afternoon, I’d run into resistance trying to get something scheduled. Before the PWG meeting I had spoken with Nancy Pelosi more than once, telling her that although the Fed hadn’t made a final decision yet on the AIG loan, we probably would need to meet with congressional leaders to discuss it. I told her it was an emergency, but she’d replied: “This is difficult to schedule on short notice. Do we need to do it tonight?”

When I got back to my office from the White House, I tried Harry Reid. I’d always found the Senate majority leader to be a sincere, trustworthy, hardworking partner. The son of a Nevada miner, he had come up the hard way, and his modesty and earnestness appealed to me.

“We have a real problem with AIG,” I told him. “The Fed is going to have to step in. I need you to get the leadership together.” He agreed, and we scheduled a meeting for 6:30 p.m.

Before going to the Hill, I briefed Obama and McCain on AIG. In fact, I spoke to Obama twice before I went to the Capitol. If anything, I overcommunicated with both candidates because I understood that if either of them made AIG or any other part of the crisis into a campaign issue to win political popularity, we were dead. I told them the Fed had to take action and made the point that we were protecting taxpayers—not bailing out shareholders. Again I asked both of them not to characterize this as a bailout.

Ben and I rode to the Capitol separately for the meeting, which Harry Reid had convened in the Senate Rules Committee’s conference room, a modest-size space devoid of tables or chairs, which left all of us standing. The Senate majority leader had gathered an important group to hear us out, including Chris Dodd; Judd Gregg, the ranking Republican on the Senate Budget Committee; and Barney Frank, who arrived late.

I led off by saying the government had decided to act to save the giant insurer, and that Treasury and the Fed were cooperating. Outwardly I was calm, but I could feel the effects of sheer physical exhaustion and the accumulated pressure of the last few days. Ben followed, speaking clearly and precisely. He laid out the terms of the two-year, $85 billion bridge loan we would be making.

There was an almost surreal quality to the meeting. The stunned lawmakers looked at us as if not quite believing what they were hearing. They had their share of questions but were broadly supportive.

John Boehner said we’d be crazy to let AIG fail. Reid put his head in his hands at the size of the loan, while Barney Frank asked, “Where did you find $85 billion?”

“We have $800 billion,” Ben replied, referring to the balance sheet of the Federal Reserve.

Chris Dodd asked twice how the Fed had the authority to lend to an insurance company and seize control of it. Ben explained how Section 13(3) of the Federal Reserve Act allowed the central bank to take such actions under “unusual and exigent circumstances.” It was the same provision the Fed had used to rescue Bear Stearns.

In the end, Reid said: “You’ve heard what people have had to say. But I want to be absolutely clear that Congress has not given you formal approval to take action. This is your responsibility and your decision.”

As I left the meeting, accompanied by my Secret Service detail, I suddenly had to step away quickly from the group, out of sight. All my life, dating back to high school, I’ve occasionally had bouts of dry heaves when I am exhausted or sleep deprived. During the credit crisis, it must have happened six or eight times. That night, as I felt the nausea coming on, I ducked behind a pillar for a few seconds, in front of an American flag hanging from the ceiling. I was concerned that someone from the press might see me, but thankfully no one did.

At 9:00 p.m., the Fed announced that it would step in to save AIG. The company’s board had approved a deal for a two-year, $85 billion loan that would be collateralized by AIG’s assets, including the stock of its regulated subsidiaries, and would be repaid with the proceeds from the sale of the assets. Holding a 79.9 percent equity interest in AIG, the government retained the right to veto dividend payments to shareholders.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Tuesday was bad, but Wednesday was worse. Our intervention with AIG didn’t calm the markets—if anything, it aggravated the situation.

I arrived at Treasury at 6:30 a.m. and went straight to the Markets Room. I saw that Morgan Stanley’s situation had deteriorated even further. Its shares were plunging in premarket trading, while its CDS continued to climb. Shortly after 7:00 a.m. the president called. I told him the markets were being driven by fear and that the short sellers were now going after Morgan Stanley as if it were Lehman Brothers. I was very focused on the commercial paper market, where funding was drying up. We were being assailed on all sides.

“We’ve got a real problem,” I said to the president. “It may be the time’s come for us to go to Congress and get additional authorities.”

“Don’t you have enough with the Fed? You just bailed out AIG,” he pointed out.

“No, sir, we may not.”

After promising President Bush I’d stay in touch, I spoke with Dave McCormick, who confirmed the reports that the Chinese had been pulling back. He said he’d spoken with central bank governor Zhou Xiaochuan, who had emphasized that the moves had not been orchestrated by the government but had been made by midlevel bureaucrats and various financial institutions doing what they thought was the smart thing. The Chinese leadership, McCormick said, would be giving some guidance to these professionals not to pull back from the money markets or from secured lending. I told Dave to stay in constant touch with the Chinese officials and keep me posted.

Between 7:00 a.m. and 7:40 a.m., Ken Wilson called me three times to brief me on the alarming calls he was getting: Bank of New York Mellon CEO Bob Kelly, BlackRock chief Larry Fink, and Northern Trust CEO Rick Waddell had all reported requests for billions in redemptions from their money market funds. The Reserve Primary Fund was bad enough, but if these institutions’ funds broke the buck, we would have a full-scale panic as corporations, insurance companies, pension funds, and mom-and-pop customers all tried to withdraw their money at the same time.

Then Ken called me again: his computer screen showed that the demand for Treasuries had become so great the yield on three-month bills had entered negative territory. Investors were now paying for the safety of U.S. government securities. He said it was clear to him the wheels were coming off the financial system.

In the midst of the morning’s gathering chaos, I spoke with Dick Fuld. He had been calling the office, and I felt I ought to talk to him. We hadn’t spoken since the weekend. It was a very sad call.

“I see you bailed out AIG,” I remember him saying. “Hank, what you need to do now is let the Fed come into Lehman Brothers. Have the government come in and guarantee it. Give me my company back. I can get all the people back. We will have Lehman Brothers again.”

I remember talking with Tim Geithner a little later. I said, “I had a sad call from Dick Fuld.” He replied, “He asked you to undo the bankruptcy, right?” I said, “Right.” And he said, “Yes, very sad.” He’d gotten a similar call from Dick. What made Dick’s call and request even more poignant was the fact that it was known by then that Barclays was going to acquire the North American investment banking and capital markets businesses of Lehman out of bankruptcy.

I called Jamie Dimon to get his assessment of the market. I knew I could depend on JPMorgan’s CEO to be cool, clinical, and right on the money. He wasn’t reassuring. “The markets are frozen,” he said.

I’d foreseen the previous Sunday that we would have to go to Congress for emergency powers and fiscal authorities to deal with the crisis. Kevin Fromer and I had discussed this on Monday and Tuesday, but I was leery about going to the Hill unless we could be sure of support there. Getting turned down by Congress on an urgent request of such magnitude could be calamitous. But the AIG rescue had failed to calm the markets, the panic was growing, and lawmakers were getting angry.

Early Wednesday morning, Kevin and I agreed that the problem was so big that Congress had to be part of the solution. I wasn’t going to look for a statutory loophole that would let us commit massive amounts of public money; Congress would have to explicitly endorse our actions. And for the first time I believed Congress would likely give us what we needed. The extreme severity of the market conditions made it clear that no good alternative existed. And lawmakers were scheduled to leave town in nine days to campaign back home, so they had an incentive to act quickly. I relayed my thinking to Jim Wilkinson and Ken Wilson.

Around 8:30 a.m. I gathered my team in the large conference room. I told them we needed to figure out a way to get ahead of the markets and stabilize the system before other institutions went down. I told them Ben had made it clear that we couldn’t rely on the Fed alone to solve the problem for us.

“This is our moment of truth,” I said. “We’ve been dealing with one-off firefights, and we need to break the back of this crisis now.”

I laid down two principles for my team to follow as we worked on solutions. First, any policies would have to be simple and easily understood by the markets. Second, our actions had to be decisive and overwhelming—I learned this lesson back in July during the Fannie and Freddie crisis.

With an eye toward managing the workload and spurring creativity, my team had already divided into groups to handle different aspects of the crisis. One team of Treasury staff, led by Steve Shafran, had begun working the previous evening with Fed staff in Washington and New York to develop solutions for the credit markets. A second group, headed by Neel Kashkari, would focus on ways to purchase the toxic assets clogging bank balance sheets. Dave McCormick and Ken Wilson would head a third team, working with the SEC on policy issues such as short selling.

I’d long since learned that you couldn’t get anything done in Washington without a crisis. Well, this was an ongoing series of crises coming at us from all directions, all at once. At Goldman Sachs I had prided myself on my ability to handle many different issues simultaneously, but at Treasury I faced a different challenge. Each of the issues confronting me was enormously important—a wrong decision would hurt not just one client or one firm but the entire financial system and many millions of people in the U.S. and around the world.