A fierce-looking banner strung between
two swaying trees in this hillside town on the Black Sea sums up how the
locals here feel about the steel factory that is their principal employer:
"Erdemir is our sweat," it proclaims. "Each of us would die for it."
Turkey recently put this
state-controlled company, its biggest steel maker, on the auction block. With
13 suitors lining up to bid, including companies from Russia, Britain and
South Korea, Erdemir could become one of Turkey’s most successful
privatizations—a potent symbol of economic progress as Turkey begins arduous
negotiations this autumn to join the European Union.
But first the sale has to happen.
The auction process has run into an
unexpected surge of opposition from political leaders and business executives
who argue that privatizing the company is not necessary, given its profit.
Moreover, they add, Turkey cannot afford to surrender a strategic asset,
especially when Europeans seem increasingly reluctant to admit the Turks into
their club of nations.
Then there are the factory’s 7,500
workers, who fear now that they could lose their jobs under a foreign owner.
Protests have erupted here and in other cities, as Erdemir has become a
fraught symbol of Turkey’s uneasy passage from its sheltered past into a
free-market future.
"This is a real test for Turkey," said
Metin Kilci, president of the Turkish Privatization Administration, which
hopes to sell Erdemir by the end of the year and follow it with sales of other
state assets, including an insurance company, a sugar factory and the Istanbul
Hilton.
The Turkish government has won kudos for
stabilizing its economy, with the help of loans from the International
Monetary Fund, after a deep crisis in 2001 brought this nation of 69 million
to the brink of bankruptcy. Turkey grew nearly 9% last year, a pace that
rivals that of China.
The government of Prime Minister Recep
Tayyip Erdogan is also credited with taming decades of sky-high inflation,
which had turned Turkey’s currency, the lira, into something close to funny
money.
But the process of privatizing
state-owned companies has been dogged for 20 years by legal challenges and
political interference. As Turkey bids for a place in the European Union, it
is eager to show its resolve to open its economy to the outside world.
"We would be more than happy if a
foreign company wins this tender," Kilci said in an interview in Ankara, the
nation’s capital.
Kilci expressed disappointment that U.S.
Steel was not on the initial list of potential bidders. U.S. Steel, which is
based in Pittsburgh, owns factories in Slovakia and Serbia. A spokeswoman for
the company declined to comment.
Analysts, however, said a sale to any
foreign buyer could still be blocked. The chamber of commerce here has filed a
lawsuit opposing a sale. National opposition is robust and well-organized. And
there is a receptive audience for dark warnings about foreigners taking
advantage of Turks. The dispute has played on the front pages of papers for
weeks.
"There’s a Turkish saying, ‘We serve
foreigners the best meat - the lamb without the bones,"’ said Cemal Senturk,
who represents local manufacturers who buy steel plates from Erdemir.
Turkey’s attitude toward outsiders has
not been helped by the chilly reception it is getting these days in Europe.
Although its campaign to join the Union is still officially on track, with
membership negotiations scheduled to start on Oct. 3, popular sentiment in
Europe has turned palpably against it.
Some of that is fueled by fears that
low-cost Turkish workers will take European jobs. Some is linked to security
concerns that have intensified since the London bombings: As a Muslim country,
Turkey cannot escape the taint of radical Islamic militancy, even if it is a
moderate, secular society.
Politics reflects the popular mood.
Germany is likely to elect Angela Merkel, a conservative leader who opposes
Turkey’s bid, as chancellor in September. In France, Nicolas Sarkozy, the
interior minister and would-be president, has also expressed qualms about
Turkey.
"The Turks are quite angry," said
Katinka Barysch, chief economist of the Center for European Reform, a research
group in London, who recently wrote a report about Turkey. "They think, ‘We’ve
done so much for the EU, now the EU needs to do something for us."’
In the case of Erdemir and its steel
operation, critics say Europe’s biggest contribution would be to skim off the
cream of its output.
The company currently supplies about a
third of Turkey’s demand for flat steel, which is used to make ships, cars,
machinery and household appliances. If a foreign buyer takes over Erdemir,
people here say it would export the high-quality steel to Western Europe,
forcing Turkish companies to switch to lower-quality steel imported from
Ukraine or Kazakhstan.
"The foreigners are very
profit-oriented," Senturk said. "Why would they care about the problems in
Turkey?"
Twenty-three Turkish manufacturers that
buy steel from Erdemir have banded together to submit their own bid. But they
face well-financed rivals, like Mittal Steel of London and Arcelor, based in
Luxembourg, which are the world’s two largest steel makers.
Owning a steel plant in Turkey is
attractive, analysts say, because the country has become a hub for auto
manufacturing: Ford, Toyota, Renault and Fiat all assemble cars here. Arcelor
has ties to Renault, analysts say, and might like a Turkish factory to supply
the local Renault plant.
More broadly, the global steel industry
is ripe for consolidation. After two years of voracious demand, much of it
driven by China’s torrid economy, analysts predict a sharp slowdown in sales,
which could result in an oversupply. Acquisitive giants like Mittal, which
already owns 8.6% of Erdemir’s shares, are seizing the chance to add to their
holdings.
The Turkish government knows it has a
brief window of opportunity in which it can command a premium price. "Steel is
a cyclical business," Kilci said. "In five years, it might be losing money
again."
Erdemir, which was founded in 1960 and
began production in 1965, has had its share of bad years. It lost a total of
$169 million in 2001 and 2002, which were difficult years for the industry,
before rebounding with a profit of $261 million in 2003 and $473 million last
year.
Although the Turkish state owns only 46%
of Erdemir’s shares, it controls the board and appoints senior management.
Even those managers sounded dubious when asked why Turkey needs to sell it.
"That’s the question I constantly keep
asking," said A. Kerim Dervisoglu, who became chief executive in 2003.
On Monday, Erdemir announced that
Dervisoglu had stepped down as chief executive because of poor health.
Analysts in Istanbul said his exit more likely reflects his feelings about the
sale.
The pressure to divest Erdemir is also
driven by Turkey’s public finances. The Turkish government is running a budget
deficit equivalent to 8 percent of its gross domestic product. The company,
which is publicly traded, has a market capitalization of $2.5 billion. Given a
premium for change of control, that implies Ankara could fetch $1.5 billion
for its stake.