The Economist March 12th 2022 Culture 71
Chinese clients. Another dissects the mys
terious purchase of a disused Tube station
in London by a Ukrainian tycoon; he be
came pally with British luminaries before
moving to Vienna, where he is fighting ex
tradition to America for alleged corruption
(Britain has filed no charges).
The most revealing chapter is on the
“Scottish limited partnership” (slp). This
arcane corporate form has featured in
some of the most notorious “laundromat”
cases, involving industrialscale washing
of money from former Soviet countries; in
one, a criminal group stole $1bn from
banks in Moldova, more than an eighth of
the country’s gdp. The wheeze owes its
popularity to a single sentence in a law of
1890, which defines the slpas “a legal per
son distinct from the partners of whom it
is composed”. It thus provides a buffer be
tween miscreant and misdeed that is un
available in regular partnerships—should
anyone be so indelicate as to pry.
One of the few who did pry was David
Leask, a journalist with the Herald, a Scot
tish newspaper. His work led to calls from
Westminster mps to end the ruse; the gov
ernment vowed action. Business had other
ideas. Associations representing lawyers
and estate agents cautioned that a crack
down would create bad publicity and
impose extra burdens on legitimate busi
nesses. Moneymen warned it could harm
the City’s competitiveness. An umbrella
group for private equity, which had long
used slps in its (legal) taxavoidance
arrangements, counselled against a “need
less act of national self harm”. All this
played on ministers’ fears of blunting Brit
ain’s financial edge and, as often before, it
worked: it is still possible to own slps
anonymously and avoid filing accounts.
To be fair, British politicians have had
their moments in the fight against dirty
money. One came when, as prime minis
ter, David Cameron hosted a global anti
corruption summit in 2016. He also pushed
through reforms including a public regis
ter of company owners, the first in a g 20
economy. But momentum stalled with the
distractions of Brexit and covid19.
Closing the laundry
Britain’s perennial trouble is less shoddy
laws than a lack of resources to enforce
them vigorously. Mr Cameron’s ownership
register is an example. Companies House,
which runs it, cannot afford to vet the in
formation submitted, let alone go after
those who file fibs. The combined budget
of national agencies that fight economic
crime is a paltry £850m ($1.12bn), says a
watchdog—less than 1% of the amount es
timated to be laundered through the coun
try annually. Ministers have announced
various anticorruption outfits and initia
tives but failed to provide the funding to
give them real clout. The country has no
credible equivalent to the punchpacking
units in several American agencies.
On the rare occasions when British
prosecutors get the bit between their teeth
in whitecollar cases, they are more likely
to involve corporate fraud than crossbor
der corruption. When they do pursue big
time graft, they are typically outgunned by
the bluechip lawyers hired by their deep
pocketed targets. Witness “unexplained
wealth orders”, a sensible legal innovation
introduced in Britain in 2018, which allow
assets to be seized if their owners cannot
prove they were bought with legitimate
funds. Of the four cases so far, one has al
ready been overturned. Prosecutors are
hamstrung by the high legal bar for the
confiscation of assets. According to an in
dex of property rights, they enjoy stronger
protection in Britain than in any other
European country—onereason why oli
garchsaresofondofEnglishcourts.
Ultimately,MrBulloughseesa mystery
at the core of the servile business model.
What does the country get out of it? True,
some lawyers, prconsultants and estate
agents do very nicely. But the earnings
from oligarchs and other foreign patrons
of London’s offshore machinery and
swankiest neighbourhoods are tiny com
pared with the overall revenues of the City.
Meanwhile, the reputational risks of a
model that sucks in cash from benighted
kleptocracies have never been clearer.
Beggaring your neighbours for relative
ly little gain—call it Cruel Britannia—is not
a good look. Whether the efforts of cam
paigners, combined with the stench
around Londongrad since the assault on
Ukraine, help put an end to Butler Britain
remains to be seen. Mr Bullough argues
compellingly that though more anticor
ruption funds and tougher enforcement
arewelcome, whatisreallyneededisa
change of philosophy: for principles to
takeprecedenceovertheprofitsofa few.n
Ottomanhistory
Too close to the son
N
otforthefirstorlasttimeinhistory,
the master of an authoritarian power
straddling Europe and Asia looked west—
and was reassured to find his adversaries
divided. Squabbles among the rulers of
western Christendom, theological, com
mercial and personal, made it easier for
Sultan Suleiman to achieve his grand aim.
He led his vast, multiethnic armies
deep into European territory, in 1529 (and
again in 1532) stopping only at the gates of
Vienna. He had established Islam’s place
on the continent. In the five centuries
since, the personality and achievements of
Suleiman the Magnificent have never
ceased to puzzle and fascinate. Christo
pher de Bellaigue approaches him from an
unusual and intriguing angle.
Despite his dazzling charisma, aspects
of Suleiman’s life suggest a vulnerable,
even lamentable figure: a ruler who tried to
be fractionally more lenient than his
predecessors but was caught up in the
murderous calculus of palace politics. He
loved and trusted two individuals, both of
Orthodox Christian background. One was
his erstwhile servant and falconer, Ibra
him, whom Suleiman met when they were
both around 20, and who proved to be a
master of statecraft. The other was his
favourite consort and wife, Hurrem.
But this was not a happy trio. Hurrem
helped persuade Suleiman (perhaps cor
rectly) that Ibrahim was flying too high and
could become a rival. One morning in 1536,
in the bedroom next to the sultan’s, Ibra
him was found strangled. (Much later, it
seems, Hurrem induced Suleiman to kill
his beloved son, born by another woman.)
A portrait of Suleiman the Magnificent reveals the allure and burden of power
Lonely at the top
The Lion House. By Christopher de
Bellaigue. Vintage; 304 pages; £20.
To be published in America by Farrar,
Straus and Giroux in November; $28