The Economist November 13th 2021 Books & arts 85
oped a line in supersecretive trusts.
Mr Michel builds his book around two
characters, both prolific users of America’s
financialsecrecy infrastructure, deftly
weaving together their stories and his
analysis. The first is Teodoro “Teodorin”
Nguema Obiang Mangue, the freespend
ing son of the president of Equatorial
Guinea, a small, kleptoblighted state in
central Africa. The other is Ihor Kolomois
ky, a Ukrainian oligarch accused by Ameri
ca of stealing billions of dollars from a
bank he owned and rinsing them in Amer
ican property (accusations he denies).
The gloves are on
Mr Obiang’s story is the more lurid, and its
outline is more widely known. He made
headlines in 2011 when prosecutors moved
to seize various assets he had acquired in
America with allegedly corrupt money, in
cluding a megamansion, a fleet of super
cars so extensive that he would try to
match his ride with his shoes, and a trove
of Michael Jackson memorabilia (includ
ing the star’s famous white glove). He
spent much of his money in and around
Malibu, a swanky beach city in California.
Mr Kolomoisky did his alleged launder
ing in less salubrious places. His represen
tatives swept into Cleveland, Ohio, wow
ing local officials with talk of regeneration.
But much of the citycentre property, once
purchased, was left to fall into disrepair.
Why let your assets rot? “Think of Ameri
can real estate as a kleptocratic rainyday
fund,” explains Mr Michel. If money is sto
len or illicitly earned, return on invest
ment is secondary. The land beneath a
crumbling building retains its value. As
Cleveland discovered, this sort of calculus
can devastate communities.
The cofounder of Transparency Inter
national, an anticorruption ngo, Frank
Vogl distributes blame more broadly in his
book. The “enablers” of his title are the
banks that move launderers’ money; the
lawyers who set up their brassplate com
panies or, alongside publicrelations
firms, fend off prosecutors and the media
on the kleptocrats’ behalf; and the estate
agents and yachtdealers who help them
procure trophy assets. Much of all this is
legal, but, says Mr Vogl, it does not “serve
the public interests of citizens in demo
cratic nations, and indeed well beyond”.
Few would argue with that. But Mr
Vogl’s book is a mess. Turgid lists of exam
ples seem put together by an overexcited
intern, not one of the antikleptocracy
movement’s wisest coves. It repeatedly
veers offtopic, such as in an account of a
banking scandal in Italy caused by a deriv
atives blowup, not dirty money. It gets
some things badly wrong: it is a mystery
why Mr Vogl singles out the uaeas one of
the countries prioritising the fight against
illicit finance, when in reality it remains a
footdragger. He drops the names of a lot of
people in finance, but doesn’t reveal any
thing very interesting about them. Did you
know that the daughter of John Bond,
hsbc’s former boss, set mountainclimb
ing records?
Mr Michel’s book is more fluid, coher
ent and entertaining. It also has more to
say on what is supposed to be Mr Vogl’s big
theme. American regulators have long
worried about the enablers, but thanks to
effective lobbying they have managed to
crawl through loophole after loophole. Es
tate agents, luxurygoods vendors and oth
ers, for instance, won “temporary” exemp
tions from the Patriot Act (a post9/11 law
with strong antimoneylaundering provi
sions), which then became permanent.
American lawyers are pretty much free to
work with whomever they want—in many
ways “the perfect friend to have if you’re a
kleptocrat”,saysMrMichel.
Hisbookhasflaws,too.Hesometimes
getscarriedaway:theracydetailsofthe
Obiangstoryborderontitillation.Hede
votesonlyhalfa dozenpagestoDelaware,
forsolongAmerica’sleadingshellcompa
ny jurisdiction. He barely scratches the
surfaceofthemanywaysinwhichAmeri
candoublestandardsshapethegeopolitics
ofdirtymoney,atthefatfandbeyond.
Neitherbookgetstotheheartofwhatis
neededtocleanupglobalfinance.Thenub
oftheproblemisthatthoughmoneylaun
deringnetworksareincreasinglysophisti
cated and transnational, regulation and
law enforcementremain balkanised.Mr
Biden’spriorityatthatsummitshouldbe
topushformorecooperation.n
Witchcraft
Toil and trouble
B
ythespringof 1651 theresidents of
Springfield, Massachusetts, were con
vinced Hugh Parsons was a witch. He and
his wife, Mary, were a troublesome pair.
Hugh, a brickmaker, was given to sleeping
in the fields and quarrelling with neigh
bours. Mary was a highly strung gossip.
Two years earlier she had been convicted
of slandering Mercy Marshfield, a widow,
by accusing her of cavorting with the devil.
More opaque happenings clung to the
couple, too. A young man was thrown from
his horse after arguing with Hugh; flicker
ing lights were seen at night in the marsh
land south of the town where he was
known to lurk. Worse, when Hugh was in
formed of the death of his infant son, he
kept calmly puffing his pipe. Oppressed by
the pair’s own vicious arguments, Mary
whispered that her husband had murdered
their child with magic so that she would be
free to work and relieve his debts.
Malcolm Gaskill, a historian of witch
craft, traces the fortunes of this unhappy
couple. Drawing on an extraordinary col
lection of testimonies against them, he re
constructs everyday life in their “precari
ous frontier town” with novelistic texture.
The result is a portrait of a community dur
ing one of the first Puritan witch panics in
the New World—and a timeless study of
how paranoia, superstition and social un
rest fuel fantasies.
The arduousness of Puritan life is ar
restingly drawn. The winter of 1649 was so
harsh that beer froze solid in barrels and
carriages could be driven across Boston
harbour. Torrid summers brought disease
and Indian raids; sodden harvests pres
aged starvation. One in six pilgrims braved
a second Atlantic crossing to return home.
God demanded spiritual as well as
physical stamina from his new Israelites.
The Puritan self was its own battleground,
caught between salvation and sin, flesh
and spirit, and forever under siege. Like
their rude civilisation hacked from the
wilderness, the elect had to be eternally
vigilant against outside threats—and in
ternal division. Fear of witchcraft, writes
Mr Gaskill, “settled along boundaries, in
cluding the line separating body and soul”.
This fear did not arrive from nowhere.
Instead, Mr Gaskill sees it as “a serious ex
pression of disorder embedded in politics,
religion and law”. The previous decade had
involved civil war in England and the exe
cution of its king; conflict, disease and
famine rattled the transatlantic world.
Other forms of heresy and blasphemy were
The Ruin of All Witches. By Malcolm
Gaskill. Allen Lane; 336 pages; £20
The mum of all fears