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Politics : PRESIDENT GEORGE W. BUSH -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: asenna1 who wrote (172331)8/17/2001 2:16:38 PM
From: American Spirit  Respond to of 769670
 
Exporting corporate control
A gold company with ties to the Bush family tries to muzzle a muckraking journalist.
Joe Conason
Salon.com July 20, 2001

Globalization's glad prophets tell us that when the golden arches of McDonald's finally encircle the world, liberty will flourish beneath them. But so far, the evidence that open economies promote open societies is hardly conclusive -- and today there is a case pending in the courts of the United Kingdom that suggests a far less happy prospect: that the suppression of free speech and independent journalism suffered in other countries may someday cross international borders as easily as a shipment of frozen hamburger.

The plaintiffs in this case are Barrick Gold Mining, a huge firm based in Canada, and Barrick's chairman, Peter Munk, a Toronto multimillionaire with many powerful friends such as former Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney and former U.S. President George Herbert Walker Bush. The defendants are Guardian Newspapers, London publisher of the Guardian (which I have occasionally written for), Britain's premier liberal daily, and the Observer, its Sunday paper.

On Nov. 26, 2000, the Observer published "The Best Democracy Money Can Buy," a column by investigative reporter Gregory Palast (who has written for Salon) that outlined the cozy relationship enjoyed by the Bush family and the Barrick interests. Palast, who happens to be an American citizen, pointed out that Barrick's U.S. subsidiary, Barrick Goldstrike, had donated over $100,000 to Republican committees in recent years; that Goldstrike had previously obtained a very sweet deal to mine gold on public lands in Nevada, pushed through during the final days of George H.W. Bush's presidency; and that the former president had landed on Barrick's payroll after leaving office, to peddle his influence with foreign leaders in exchange for a salary and stock options.

Palast's column went on to discuss other Barrick ventures in Indonesia, Zaire and, most controversially, Tanzania, where he mentioned a report by Amnesty International alleging that in 1996, a company later bought by Barrick had participated in the "extrajudicial killing" of dozens of small-scale artisanal miners, in order to clear the Bulyanhulu gold pits, a rich site to which the company claimed title. The story behind that alleged incident is long and somewhat murky, but this much is clear: Several independent newspapers in Tanzania reported in August 1996 that as many as 52 miners were buried alive when bulldozers operated by Kahama Mining Co. Ltd., a firm later acquired by Barrick, filled in the pits, assisted by armed troops. The miners had until then successfully resisted KMCL's attempt to evict them from the land, a tract some 30 miles south of Lake Victoria.

Those appalling stories, since buttressed by eyewitness accounts, were denied by the repressive Tanzanian government, which had sided with the company against the local miners in a legal dispute over the property, and later refused to mount an official inquest into the charges. Survivors and volunteers were reportedly prevented by the government from attempting to exhume bodies from the site.

While steadfastly repeating similar denials that anyone was killed when the miners were removed from Bulyanhulu, Barrick disowns any responsibility for the disputed events of 1996 because the Canadian company didn't acquire KMCL until three years later in 1999.

The company's own documents indicate, however, that its officials were well aware that its prospective subsidiary was using aggressive methods to rid the site of thousands of native miners. Those so-called artisanal prospectors had to be removed to facilitate extraction of what is now conservatively estimated to be $3 billion worth of gold ore.

In a speech to shareholders last May, Barrick's president and CEO boasted that "prior to our acquisition, we followed the progress at Buly for five years, remaining in close contact with the [KMCL] senior management team. We did our homework -- and when the opportunity presented itself, we moved quickly to acquire the property. But we did it with discipline: For an attractive price, and only after we became comfortable with Tanzania as a place to invest."

A Barrick corporate spokesman was unavailable for comment. In court filings, Barrick representatives have suggested that the atrocity charges were fabricated by local miners and political opponents of the multinational in Tanzania.

The explosive charges of mass murder reached Amnesty International, which reported briefly on the incident in its 1997 report on world human rights and in its two subsequent annual reports. Under pressure from Barrick and the Tanzanian government, Amnesty revised its report on Bulyanhulu in its 2000 report. Because the Tanzanian authorities have persistently stonewalled Amnesty's request to conduct an investigation, the human rights organization's rules prevent it from saying that the charges have been verified. But human rights lawyers and parliamentary dissidents in Tanzania provided Palast with evidence of the live burials that he found compelling.

How many miners, if any, may have died to make the Bulyanhulu mine safe for Western exploitation remains unknown. But Palast was certainly accurate in citing Amnesty's original reports. Unfortunately for him, though, there is no right under British libel law to repeat previously published material, as there is in most instances under American law.

Almost immediately after Palast's column appeared, Barrick's litigious chairman, Munk, filed a libel action in the British courts, where the laws are notoriously restrictive of press freedom, and where truth alone is not a defense. His legal advantage is amplified by the mismatch in resources between Barrick -- one of the five largest firms on the Toronto stock exchange -- and the trust that publishes the Guardian. Under the circumstances, both Palast and the Observer have little choice but to try to settle the case, as investigative journalists in Britain are so often forced to do.

But the Barrick attorneys, who have denounced the Observer column as "false and defamatory," are demanding much more than a mere retraction or correction. They are making another, much more ominous, demand. As a condition of settling the case, Barrick insists that Palast must remove the offending column from (http://www.gregpalast.com) his U.S.-registered Web site.

In other words, Barrick is cleverly using the libel statutes of a nation without a Bill of Rights to suppress an unfavorable article in the United States, where Palast (and his Web site) would be protected by the First Amendment.

And Barrick has gone still further, by threatening litigation against both Palast and a courageous Tanzanian human rights lawyer named Tundu Lissu, who has dared to gather evidence of the Bulynahulu atrocity -- including witness statements and names of the deceased -- on behalf of a Tanzanian environmental and human rights group.

Even more outrageously, Barrick is attempting to force Palast and the Observer to acknowledge publicly that an "independent investigation" by Amnesty International established that the horrific burial never happened. Yet what Amnesty actually said in its last report on Bulyanhulu was that the government had rejected Amnesty's call to "open an independent judicial inquiry," and that the organization thus "was unable to substantiate the allegations of deaths." On the advice of their British lawyers, Amnesty officials will no longer comment on this matter. Their prudent silence is abetting Barrick's libel suit, and jeopardizing the ability of journalists and human rights monitors to report on corporate malfeasance.

Barrick's lawyers have various other quibbles with Palast's column, few of which would be entertained by a fair-minded judge in the United States. Their chief concern involves Bulyanhulu, perhaps because their client's venture is financially supported by the World Bank, whose regulations prohibit lending to projects tainted by armed violence. And the embarrassment caused by further circulation of the Bulyanhulu story might frighten away figures such as Bush, Barrick board member Vernon Jordan and other eminences who have promoted the company's fortunes abroad.

So far, Barrick has avoided any such consequences. The official opening of its huge mine at Bulyanhulu, attended by Tanzanian President Benjamin Mkapa and other dignitaries, proceeded as scheduled on Wednesday, despite local protests and some unfavorable coverage in the Tanzanian media. Aside from the Observer column, Western news outlets have taken little notice of the controversy.

According to Palast, he remains perfectly willing to publish Barrick's side of the story. "If there's an error, I'll correct it; a misinterpretation, I'll clarify it. I'm a reporter, I'm not the pope, I'm not infallible. What I can't do is cover up evidence or say a lie is the truth. If Barrick has a case to make, evidence to present, I'll print it."

What Greg Palast dared to expose were a few of the most unappetizing aspects of globalization, from the employment of former heads of state as corporate fixers to the dispossession (or worse) of native populations when they pose an obstacle to corporate profit. What the award-winning journalist didn't anticipate, however, was that he and his writing would provoke a dangerous experiment in the globalizing of corporate "information management."

Award-winning investigative reporter Greg Palast writes, Inside Corporate America, fortnightly in the Observer (London), Sunday paper of Britain's Guardian.
At gregpalast.com you can read and subscribe to Greg Palast's columns.



To: asenna1 who wrote (172331)8/17/2001 2:23:48 PM
From: long-gone  Respond to of 769670
 
Somebody PLEASE tell me about those honest Democrats(both of them)



Wednesday June 6, 7:03 pm Eastern Time
SmartMoney.com - On the Street
A SmartMoney.com Exclusive Investigation: More Questions About Torricelli's Finances
By Matthew Goldstein

FOR MUCH OF his political career, U.S. Sen. Robert Torricelli has been dogged by charges that friends and political supporters have gone out of their way to do special favors for him.

The latest allegation making headlines is that the powerful New Jersey Democrat improperly accepted gifts — including 10 Italian suits, a Rolex watch and gold cufflinks — from a New Jersey businessman who has already pleaded guilty to making illegal campaign contributions to Torricelli's 1996 U.S. Senate campaign. The gifts from David Chang are believed to be one of the main things federal prosecutors are focusing on in a wide-ranging investigation into Torricelli's fund raising and personal finances. Prosecutors are trying to determine whether the gifts were intended to secure Torricelli's help in business negotiations Chang was conducting with the South Korean government.
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But before the stories about gold jewelry and hand-tailored suits started making front-page news, much of the political intrigue surrounding ``the Torch'' (as he's known in political circles) concerned his apparent knack for getting access to lucrative stock deals. An example is the 1992 initial public offering for a New Jersey savings bank that netted Torricelli, then a U.S. congressman, a $144,000 profit. Torricelli's stock-market deals provoked so much outrage that he put his investments in a blind trust in 1994 and tapped New York investment banker Matthew Gohd to manage his portfolio.

Gohd, a major contributor to the Democratic National Committee and a golf buddy of former President Clinton's, ran the blind trust until Torricelli dissolved it in 1998. And ever since, it seems the investments made by Gohd on behalf of the blind trust have been sparking controversy. Over the past two years a slew of news organizations — including The Star Ledger, The Record, of Hackensack, N.J., Crain's New York Business and the New York Times — have raised questions about just how blind Torricelli really was to some of the investment decisions being made by Gohd. (For more on Gohd and the blind-trust controversies, see story.)

Now, documents reviewed by SmartMoney.com have raised questions of possible preferential treatment for the Torricelli trust by Gohd and a small hedge fund he formerly managed called Porpoise Investors. The Torricelli trust was one of about two-dozen investors in the Porpoise fund — a $13 million hedge fund that Gohd ran from 1993 to 1998. Other notable investors included Torricelli's former girlfriend Bianca Jagger, the human-rights activist and ex-wife of Rolling Stones singer Mick Jagger; Laura Burrows-Jackson, a Baltimore philanthropist; and Par Ridder, son of the chief executive officer of the Knight Ridder newspaper chain. But the Porpoise fund, which specialized in speculative stocks, quickly floundered, and by late 1995 many investors were simply looking to bail out.

In fact, it appears many investors lost money in Porpoise — in some cases, as much as 95% of their original investments. But that may not have been the case for the Torricelli trust and a few other select investors. Based on interviews with people familiar with Porpoise's operation, allegations contained in several lawsuits and arbitration cases involving Porpoise, and other documents reviewed by Smartmoney.com, it appears the Torricelli trust may have emerged from the Porpoise fund with little or no losses at all, and may even have turned a profit. A Porpoise financial record summarizing the fund's operation, which Smartmoney.com has reviewed, shows the Porpoise fund made two disbursements, listed as loans, to the Torricelli trust. The first loan was for $75,000 and was made in February 1995. The second loan occurred in May 1996 and was for $50,000. There's no indication in the financial record that any interest was charged on the loans, nor that the loans were repaid.

The $125,000 combined loan amount is greater than the sum invested by the Torricelli trust in the Porpoise fund. Torricelli, according to the financial document and interviews with several people, began investing in the Porpoise fund in 1993, nearly a full year before Gohd was picked to run the blind trust. Ultimately, Torricelli's capital contribution to Porpoise grew from an initial $25,000 to $100,000. Meanwhile, the blind trust reached its maximum value in 1995 — when it ranged between $250,000 and $500,000, according to Torricelli's congressional financial-disclosure statements. The trust's opening balance in 1994 was $139,000.

Torricelli's office, as has been often the case whenever questions arise about the now-defunct blind trust, did not have much to say about the Porpoise loans. Torricelli's official stance is that he had no knowledge of any of the investment decisions made by Gohd during the time the blind trust was in existence. Says Dale Leibach, a spokesman for Torricelli: ``It was set up as a blind trust and the information about it was not available'' to Torricelli. Gohd, meanwhile, didn't return several phone calls to his office, and his attorney, Lawrence Bader, declined to comment. Robert Mittman, a New York lawyer whose firm defended Gohd, Porpoise and Whale Securities (the New York investment firm where Gohd works) in the arbitrations and lawsuits, also declined to comment.

It's not known whether the dealings between the Porpoise fund and the Torricelli trust are a subject of the ongoing federal inquiry into Torricelli's personal finances and fund raising. A spokesman for Mary Jo White, U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York, whose office is overseeing the investigation, declined to comment. But several people say federal investigators did make inquiries more than a year ago about the Porpoise fund and they questioned at least one associate who had worked with Gohd on the fund. The associate, who no longer works for Gohd, declined to comment to SmartMoney.com.

What is known, however, is that over the past 18 months Gohd has settled three separate arbitration claims stemming from the demise of Porpoise. In each case the disgruntled investors made allegations of ``preferential treatment'' for a few unnamed Porpoise investors. To settle the three arbitrations, lawyers for Gohd and Porpoise agreed to a pay a total of $535,000 in damages, according to records on file with the National Association of Securities Dealers. In each instance, Gohd denied any allegations of wrongdoing and noted that he personally did not contribute any money toward the settlements. The claims were paid by checks drawn by Whale, where Gohd has worked since 1989 — first as a managing director and now as co-chairman. (In late April, Whale renamed itself BlueStone Capital.)

Since securities arbitration cases are normally private affairs, it's difficult to know what evidence was produced during those proceedings. Moreover, the disgruntled Porpoise customers and their attorneys agreed not to discuss their claims and allegations as part of the terms of the settlements.

Some aspects of the dispute, however, were given a more thorough airing in lawsuits filed prior to the arbitration proceedings. The lawsuits filed by Par Ridder and Laura Burrows-Jackson ultimately were dismissed in their early stages because the courts ruled that the investors were bound first to arbitrate any claims they might have against Porpoise and Gohd. And while none of the lawsuits mentioned the Torricelli trust, the court papers strongly suggest that some Porpoise investors may have gotten preferential treatment. A lawsuit filed by Burrows-Jackson in federal district court in Maryland in 1997 alleged that Gohd made ``secret agreements'' with a few Porpoise investors that allowed them to withdraw from the fund before anyone else — an action that allegedly minimized those investors' losses at the expense of others. Burrows-Jackson's suit claimed Gohd and Porpoise ``gave preferential treatment to other partner's demands for return of the investments...to the detriment of Burrows[-Jackson].''

A lawsuit filed by Ridder in federal district court in Manhattan in 1999 made similar allegations of potential favoritism. Instead of liquidating the Porpoise fund on a pro-rata basis as Gohd was required to do under the terms of the fund's agreement, the lawsuit claims Porpoise ``secretly gave money back to favorite persons.'' It alleges, for example, that Gohd and Porpoise ``made loans to a friend in the amount of $125,000.'' Ridder, along with Burrows-Jackson, argued that Gohd repeatedly rebuffed their attempts to withdraw from the fund in late 1995. So by the time Porpoise finally sent Ridder a disbursement check in 1997 to close out his account, his original $100,000 investment had been whittled down to less than $5,000. Ridder got $55,000 in his settlement, which was finalized in February. Burrows-Jackson, whose losses were even greater, settled for $200,000. In the third arbitration, the Borggreve Family Limited Partnership settled its claims for $280,000.

So why did Porpoise perform so badly? The lawsuits all allege that many of the stocks Porpoise invested in were those of companies taken public by Whale and whose share prices were slipping fast. The investors alleged that Gohd unsuccessfully used Porpoise to prop up the prices of these ailing Whale stocks by buying shares in them on the open market. A falling share price for a stock underwritten by Whale is not all that surprising. Of the nearly three dozen small companies Whale has taken public since 1994, roughly two-thirds either have had their stocks delisted by Nasdaq stock-market officials, or have seen their stock prices drop well below their initial-offering prices.

It should be noted, however, that not all the investors in Porpoise are angry with Gohd. Gary Shemano, president of the the Shemano Group, a San Francisco-based investment firm, says he wasn't aware that the Torricelli trust was even an investor in Porpoise, but he finds it hard to believe that Gohd would have given preferential treatment to any investor — including the senator. Shemano says he'd be ``shocked'' to find out Gohd had done anything improper, but admitted he was surprised that Gohd and Whale had agreed to settle all the arbitration claims. Shemano says he lost most of his initial investment in Porpoise and he suspects most others did too. But he considers his losses as part of the risk of betting on speculative stocks.

The irony for Torricelli, of course, is that the reason he'd established the blind trust back in 1994 was to prevent this very kind of criticism from coming up in the first place. But with each passing year, it seems the questions surrounding the now-defunct trust and Gohd's management of it are only multiplying.
biz.yahoo.com