BOOK OF THE DAY: The Match King: Ivar Kreuger and the Financial Scandal of the Century; by Frank Partnoy; Profile Books; pp 272; £18.99
IF ONLY this book had been published two years ago, many investors would have been more wary of the dangers of recent months! The worldwide financial markets of the 1920s were mesmerised by a man who made such an impact that his story reads more like fiction than fact.
We are inclined to forget how important a commodity safety matches were for everyday living in the 1920s.
People used them to light kerosene lamps, gas heaters, stoves and of course, tobacco. When the sun set, matches were struck to light fires for cooking, candles for reading and cigarettes for smoking. Everyone carried matches; everyone used them; everyone bought them.
Ivar Kreuger merged the various match companies in his country to form Swedish Match – a single dominant business which he controlled.
On a visit to the United States, he discovered that anti-monopoly legislation made it impossible to do the same thing there. However, he came up with the idea that American investors could benefit from the creation of match monopolies in Europe, and he promised very profitable returns on their investment.
By 1927, the Match King held match monopolies in nearly a dozen European countries. However, the foundation on which his success was built was one of very dubious accounting. He appeared to be able to confuse the auditor by hiding the sources of much of his profits.
Kreuger, the world’s richest man and most eligible bachelor, was an impressive character and the American public was conquered by his personality.
He mixed in top circles and with the biggest movie stars of the day, Douglas Fairbanks and Mary Pickford.
He helped a teenage shop assistant he had met in a department store in Stockholm – her name was Greta Gustafson and, when she went to America, he got her to change her surname to Garbo. In no time, the Americans were begging to give him money to invest and he became an adviser to American presidents Hoover and Coolidge.
The ability of Kreuger to meet the people he wanted to influence is described here in detail. He prepared in advance and seldom failed to impress. He was the son of a factory manager and a Bohemian mother, but was able to adjust to dominate any audience he targeted.
His first meeting with the stockbroking company he wanted to impress is told in detail: “The men studied Ivar carefully. It was apparent he was a genius.
“But even more important, he appeared to be a gentleman. His suit was dark, and he had brought a cane and a black dispatch box. His tie, though not old school by Boston standards, was a conservative pinstripe of impeccable taste . . . He spoke five languages fluently, including near-perfect English.”
It will come as no surprise to the reader that Kreuger was not all he pretended to be. This was before Bernie Madoff’s time, and memories of the 18th century South Sea Bubble and the 17th century Dutch tulip pyramid schemes were forgotten.
The story of his negotiations in 1928 with Mussolini and the Italian minister of finance that gave him the belief that he could do a deal for a monopoly in that country is riveting. However, it was that venture which led to the final collapse of his empire a couple of years later.
This book opened my eyes to the world of a glamorous financial wizard with the ability to confuse experts in finance and accounting. It holds many parallels in present times.
Our Minister for Finance could do worse than make this compulsory reading for anybody involved in the regulation of our financial sector in the future.
Feargal Quinn is a member of Seanad Éireann and author of
Crowning the Customer