Part I
THE PIONEERS
Entrepreneurs today have different sets of challenges from those experienced by their predecessors who began their journey about the time of the Second World War. The struggle for the pioneers centred on limited resources and a lack of skilled labour in politically tumultuous times. Today, with advanced technology, access to education and funds, and abundant opportunities, the challenge is not about starting a venture but sustaining it in the midst of global competition and constant innovation.
There’s something about the pioneering spirit that never fails to draw us in. Perhaps pioneers from the Silent Generation represent a slice of the past that we no longer have access to and we can only reminisce about, as we do over faded photos of yesteryear. Or, amid the get-rich-quick Ponzi schemes and bubbles that envelope empty promises, we harbour a yearning for times when gall, grit, and gumption laid the foundation of the storied business empires of today.
When we do manage to capture in the flesh, a trailblazer who triumphed over personal adversity, political uncertainty and economic downturns, and who lived through historical events that are part of the pages of our schools’ history syllabus, we settle ourselves down with a hot cup of pu-erh, ready for a good yarn.
But these occasions are few and far between. Persuading living legends to come on the show is a challenge. Firstly, many of them don’t need the publicity. They sit atop empires that already touch the lives of millions. Secondly, in Asia, particularly among the Chinese diaspora, playing down oneself is a virtue. More importantly, their privacy is paramount. Better to lay low than have dirt dug up and tall poppies cut down.
Those who have granted me their time do it for two reasons — a genuine enjoyment of telling their stories to a wider audience and a hope that inspiration will follow for those who resonate with their values. In this season of their lives when there’s nothing more to prove and nothing more to lose, it’s a response to a higher calling to touch hearts.
Many of the stories that follow are about the visionaries who marched to the beat of their own drums. I’ve made it a point to bring out the less glamorous aspects of failures, disappointments, and controversies. For aren’t these but the flip side of the same coin of success?
I hope you’ll be as inspired as I was when I had the privilege to step into their worlds. The road to success, I’d like to believe, is still paved with the same virtues of courage, insights, industry, and yes, a touch of providence.
Chapter 1
The Master Networker
Mochtar Riady
Lippo Group, Indonesia
The study of Mochtar Riady’s life is a review of the modern history of both Indonesia and China, in particular the momentous periods that shook the foundations of these two countries and changed them fundamentally.
It’s hard to imagine that a man so small in stature and so placid in appearance had lived dangerously through civil wars in Indonesia and China, been exiled for his anti-colonial activities, trudged through the political–business quagmire of the Suharto period, and sunk to the depths in the Asian Financial Crisis, only to emerge with an empire bigger than he had ever dreamed of.
Clad in the signature Indonesian formal wear of the long-sleeved batik shirt, Pak Mochtar, as he’s known in his home country, embodied a calm befitting a man who’s been there, done that, and has nothing else to prove. He wore a perpetual smile that hid a mind that was constantly thinking of the next bit of action. At 86, when I met with him at his office, this octogenarian clocked into work every weekday and Saturday. He was lucid and sharp and would wrestle down any suggestion that he disagreed with, not with brash defensiveness but challenging questions (asked with that smile still on his face) that made me do a double take and wonder if I had my facts right. Nothing escaped him.
Born in 1929, Mochtar Riady, christened Li Wenzheng, is the son of a batik trader who moved to Indonesia from Fujian, China. Riady was taken to his father’s birthplace at five months old when word of his grandfather’s illness reached the family. And there the family stayed for six years.
Tossed about by unrest in Fujian during the Warlord Era, the anti-Dutch protests in Indonesia, and the civil war between the Nationalists and Communists in Nanjing, young Riady shuttled between China and Indonesia in his early years.
Quite the firebrand as a student in Indonesia, Riady opposed the colonialists as president of the East Java Overseas Chinese Students Association. He supported Indonesian guerrillas and participated in anti-Dutch demonstrations.
It was then that his world view was shaped by his socialist mentors.
“One of my gurus, he was an extreme leftist, and he taught me what imperialism and capitalism were about. So, since then, I became more sympathetic towards socialism.” When I pointed out the irony of a socialist becoming a successful capitalist, he chuckled knowingly and said, “That is the story,” one that was uncovered in the course of the interview.
I became more sympathetic towards socialism.
Riady had to flee Indonesia for Nanjing during a crackdown on student demonstrators. It was only when the Dutch finally relinquished control of Indonesia, just before the end of 1949, that Riady returned home.
Looking back, Riady acknowledged the value of his war-torn past: “Maybe this is the reason why I am very tough and I can withstand difficult situations,” he mused.
The banker extraordinaire
Riady’s office, where the interview took place, was not outlandish in its set-up in any way but regally functional. Much like the occupant himself — nothing in his appearance to draw attention to himself but certainly, a giant of a personality.
Riady’s Lippo Group is one of Indonesia’s largest conglomerates with interests in property, health care, education, retail, hospitality, and banking throughout Southeast Asia, Hong Kong, China, and the US. Revenue of the Group amounted to US$7.5 billion in 2017, and the man himself worth about US$3 billion.1
His secretary was nowhere to be seen. The cameras were allowed to be set up, while he worked quietly at his desk. The shifting of the furniture and the instructions among the crew didn’t seem to disturb the man as he focused on the day’s work.
The reality of the power that he quietly wields became evident when his deputies gathered in his office with bowed respect, akin to reverence even, as each took turns to speak to the patriarch in measured tones. His PR man only spoke to him when needed. But one suspects it’s respect, rather than fear, that inspires such care among staff when dealing with Pak Mochtar.
After all, way before most of us were even conceived, ambition was already scorching through his veins. A worthy one but certainly, as his life unfolded, too small for this giant of a magnate.
‘How can you be a banker? You don’t have money.’
Young Riady’s drive to succeed was triggered at the age of 10, when he spotted a majestic colonial building that housed a Dutch bank. He was intrigued by the well-dressed employees who stepped into the building. He was to learn later from his school principal how a bank operated and profited.
With that, young Riady declared to his father one day that he would work in a bank when he grew up. Little did he know that he would own a few in his lifetime.
But pragmatism was the order of the day for a family that was barely making ends meet. “My father was against me being a banker,” Riady revealed. “He said, ‘How can you be a banker? You don’t have money.’ ”
Riady went on to relate the conversation between him and his father.
“And then I said, ‘The commodity of the bank is not money. It’s trust.’ He said, ‘You don’t have the trust. You are poor. You are not a rich man. How can people trust you?’ And then I told him, ‘I can find someone who is and I can persuade him to be my partner. And then we can run the business.’ ”
Such was the prophetic vision of a young boy who turned what seemed to be childhood naiveté into reality. Indeed, over time, Riady honed his skill as a master networker, making the right connections at the right time.
Young Riady tried his hand at several jobs as he settled into life in newly-independent Indonesia. One of his early achievements was growing his in-laws’ shop into the largest department store in their town in East Java. But restlessness continued to brew in this ambitious young man.
So, he set off for the bright city lights of Jakarta and took up the bicycle trade, a business that Fujianese migrants gravitated towards. Along the way he dabbled in trading textiles and electrical goods before venturing into shipping. His dream, however, of becoming a banker lingered.
Opportunity finally came knocking in 1959 when Riady got wind of a local bank looking for some capital. True to his talent as a networker, Riady gathered a group of investors and pooled together US$200,000 to purchase a 66% stake in Bank Kemakmuran. With ownership came the titles of chairman and general manager.
His dream had finally come true. But it soon became a nightmare when he realised he was in over his head. Day one and he was presented with a balance sheet which he could make no sense of. He had to pick up basic accounting and pick it up fast. And that he did. After a year, he not only knew the workings of the bank but, incredibly, turned the ailing bank around.
But Riady’s tenure in the bank was short lived after he discovered unscrupulous practices among the shareholders. He left after vain attempts to set things right.
From the 1949 to 1966, Sukarno ruled Indonesia with an iron fist. He was more intent on pursuing political ends than developing the economy. He cut off links with the West and, by default, the rest of the world, preventing much-needed foreign funds from flowing into the country. Each time the government’s coffers ran low, money would be printed. This led to a period of hyperinflation. In 1966, inflation was riding at 635% and interest rates at 24%.
In the meantime, having left Bank Kemakmuran, Riady had his feelers out for other opportunities. He didn’t have long to wait. Bank Buana had run into some trouble because of poor management. To take over the small outfit, Riady would have to corral a group of investors to come on board with him. Once again, his wide network came in handy.
Riady turned to his mentor, who was the secretary of the Indonesian Overseas Chinese General Association, a position that made the latter very well connected with the Chinese business community. He introduced one of the city’s leading textile businessman to Riady who then set about working on the relationship.
“I played tennis with him every day, and I tried to give him an understanding of the banking business,” Riady recalled. Soon, he managed to win the confidence of the influential businessman and included him in a consortium of companies to acquire Bank Buana in 1965. With that, Riady began the work to turn around the ailing bank.
In the tight credit environment at the time, Riady decided to boost Bank Buana’s capital by halving the interest rate to 12%, with a condition — borrowers would have to provide collateral to secure the loans (most loans were unsecured then). The risk, if the bold move fell through, was a squeeze on the bank’s already tight liquidity. However, as history would have it, it was a gamble that paid off. Bank Buana saw not only the number of non-performing loans slashed as debtors took the proffered olive branch to settle their debts, but other businesses were also drawn to the cheaper money. The collateral they promised boosted the bank’s capital and Riady succeeded in rehabilitating yet another trou...