Lessons from a Warzone, by Louai Al Roumani

My NHS Trust has an annual “Lessons Learned” conference, for sharing the lessons that teams have drawn out from incidents that have taken place in the previous twelve months.  Don’t waste a crisis by failing to learn from the experience.  This book is about lessons learned from a crisis, but is much more than just another business book.

Louai Al Roumani was the fairly newly appointed CFO of the leading retail bank in Syria when the Arab Spring turned into the Syrian civil war.  Most of his family fled to the safety of Kuwait as conditions turned nasty (ironically, they had been living in Kuwait when Saddam Hussein invaded in 1990, but missed the occupation because they were on vacation in what was then a very safe Damascus), but Al Roumani chose to remain, loyal to his home city and his company.

“Lessons from a Warzone: How to Be a Resilient Leader in Times of Crisis” recounts the lessons learned by Al Roumani over the next five years.  In this time, despite mortar bombs falling in Damascus and ISIS reaching the outskirts, his bank,  BBFS, didn’t just survive but thrived.  It did this by doing things that when explained by Al Roumani, and you should already have realised if only you thought about them for moment, make lots of sense even if they fly in the face of what many less insightful managers and directors might do (and, indeed, was evidence by departure of the two directors appointed the one of the major investors).

The lessons include going the extra mile to look after customers (airlifting safe deposit boxes out of a local branch as ISIS overran a provincial town), providing them with reassurance (displaying piles of cash when they queued up to withdraw their deposits and not restricting the amount they could withdraw), looking after staff and avoiding redundancies and cost-cutting around workplace hygiene factors ,and  robust systems testing and disaster planning.

He draws on his heritage as a Syrian, living in a city that claims to have been longest continuously inhabited community in the world (a claim of Damascus that Aleppo contests), but also sharing the nomadic transitions of hospitality and reciprocity of Arabi culture.  There are great insights relating to thinking about the long term health of the company, informed in part by a different “concept of time” from the one that he had been exposed to during his Harvard MBA.  He argues that you should not treat profitability as a critical success factor but that if you see your objective the long term wealth of your shareholders you will from time to time have to sacrifice short term profitability.  Although his bank was a creation only of the 1990s, he argues for playing “the long game as a third generation family business does.”  He tells a charming anecdote of a large purchase from a shop in the Damascus souq where, in contrast the lady ahead of him who haggled hard and secured no discount, the old gentleman who been silently observing the young man serving Al Roumani gave the instruction that Al Roumani should receive a discount to reward him for not haggling.  The account provided by Al Roumani explains why BBFS displayed such resilience through the Syrian civil war that it both maintained sustainable positions in relation to the marketplaces it deals with and also built the corporate and social capital inside the organisation not just to survive but the thrive.

Don’t read this book just for the business lessons.  It is a powerful tale of the resilience of a man and a society in the face of enormous threat and massive upheaval.  You will learn about the experience of a slice of Syrian society during the last decade and about the cultural hinterland that supports it.  It is also a human tale, which keeps resurfacing through the book and continues right through to the acknowledgements at the back – just for once, make the effort to read these as the book keeps on giving right up to the final page.

 

 

Lessons for capitalism from the East India Company

William Dalrymple has helped people who don’t have the time to wade through 576 pages (or perhaps already have backlog of doorstep sized items of reading matter on the bedside table already) by writing an extended article on the subject of his new book about the East India Company in the FT.  However, it is a compelling article and means that I may add “The Anarchy: the Relentless Rise of the East India Company” to my list for Santa this Christmas.

This is a company of superlatives, starting out as a joint stock company operating under charter arising from a petition by entrepreneurs and investors to Elizabeth I, growing to become an empire with 60 million subjects, its own army of 200,000 men , accounting for half of the trade of the leading trading nation.  It’s global impact was enormous, from the fears about its reach – as well as its role in the tea trade – that contributed to the revolution in the Thirteen Colonies, to the part it played in the Opium Wars.  Microsoft, Amazon, Google, Apple and before them the oil majors – they were clearly nothing to this behemoth.

Dalrymple brings out in the his article the complex relationship of the Company to British state, from its original charter, through the continuing lobbying into government, the corruption in the relationships between the Company and the establishment (for example, in 1693 shelling out £1,200 a year to prominent MPs, described by Dalrymple as the first corporate lobbying scandal), and the final demise of the Company in the wake of the Indian Rebellion.

Dalrymple’s article has the effect of drawing attention to is the inadequacy of conventional theory, both “Microeconomics 101” and the Theory of the Firm, to describe one of the greatest commercial entities the world has ever known.  Some of things at work are the complex interfaces with the British state and its politicians, and also its deployment of its own naval operations (envisaged in its original charter) and an army to deliver a return to its joint stock holders, as well creating an entity became transformed into the biggest single component of Britain’s empire.

As I write this, I think he has done the job with his teaser article to promote the book.  Perhaps I should ignore the size of the unread pile by my bed and add “The Anarchy” to the letter to the bloke with the reindeer and sleigh.

Purposeful finance – in ancient Ephesus

I have always been interested in long lasting institutions.  I attended Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, established by the city’s townspeople in the aftermath of the Great Plague, and lived for a year in a room in its Old Court, built in the 1350s.  There was something very special about occupying a room that had seen young men* engaged in the same endeavour for over 600 years.  A few years later, living in west London, I relished the occasions driving when I found myself behind removal vans owed by the local branch (sadly since renamed because the branding confused the locals) of the Aberdeen Shore Porters Society, that proclaimed its foundation in 1498.

Esra Turk wrote a fascinating article in the FT on 20 August about an even longer lasting institution, a bank rather than a college or a logistics business, albeit one that was abolished 1600 years ago by a Roman emperor, a Christian intent on stamping out pagan beliefs. The Artemision was one of the earliest known banks, operating within the great temple of Artemis (as known to the Greeks, or Diana to the Romans) at Ephesus, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.  Its origins were as a place to deposit wealth under the protection of the deity and predate Croesus, the first ruler to issue gold coinage, and man synonymous with great wealth and an early depositor in the Artemision.

Turk recounts how the Artemision developed to become more than just a safe deposit facility for the mega rich to evolve “into a much more sophisticated regional and international financial institution, operating not only as a reserve and depository bank, but also undertaking fiduciary and mortgage business. The accumulation of earnings and reserves were of such magnitude that it became known as the Bank of Asia”.

What was the behind its success and its longevity?  As every pre-digital retailer will tell you, the first was location – Ephesus was the central junction of the ancient world.  But beyond that, Turk spells out three great strengths: purpose, leadership and a clear view of risk.

Regarding purpose, Turk observes, its “sophisticated banking functions were always carried out in the sacred service of a goddess with a strong ethical code. Similarly, banks today need a guiding purpose that looks beyond financial performance and provides a clear and sustainable ethical framework”.  It may be a stretch, but is there anything in the waxing and waning of some of high street financial institutions in the UK to link the points at which they have exhibited most resilience and placed themselves at great risk to the strength or weakness of their links to heritage of their Quaker and Non-conformist founders?

Regarding leadership, Turk tells us its “governance was characterised by high levels of personal and collective accountability, trust and connection to the society in which it operated”.   Leadership was initially jointly vested in the high priest and priestess of the temple and later in the sole charge of a high priestess.  Turk wryly describes this as “an experiment not much emulated in the subsequent 16 centuries, but perhaps worth revisiting”.  Not so much the 30% Club as the 100% Club.  Gender may have played its part, but I think Turk’s core message is that accountability and trust embodied in the priesthood and accountability to the deity was key to the longevity of the bank.

Regarding the clear of view of risk, Turks suggests that bank was a model of prudence and caution,  deploying its own capital as well as the funds of its depositors, and restricted itself to low risk lending because the money help under the goddess’s protection had to remain inviolable.  No sub-prime activity in the Artemision!

*Corpus Christi only started admitting women undergraduates in the 1980s