ABN Amro CEO Rijkman Groenink is not getting a lot of sleep
right now. He has 48 hours to do a deal he never really wanted to do in the
first place, or else see his bank broken up, reduced to little more than a financial-services
footnote.
The modern world has finally caught up, it would seem, with what the Wall
Street Journal describes as "the bank, one of Europe’s aristocratic
firms with roots dating to 1824." Arrayed against Groenink and his arranged
marriage with the just-as-aristocratic John Varley of Barclays
are some decidedly new-world names, chief among them Fred Goodwin
of RBS, Emilio Botin of Santander, and Christopher
Hohn of The Children’s Investment Fund.
Rather than a friendly merger with an established name like Barclays, Groenink
faces the prospect of seeing his Dutch assets – the crown jewel of ABN
Amro’s holdings – being sold to Fortis, of all banks. Fortis,
an expensive name from some brand factory, has no history except for being the
product of multiple mergers of entities with names like N.V. AMEV, VSB, AG Group,
ASLK-CGER, and SNCI-NMKN. You can feel the Groenink shudder from across the
Atlantic.
It’s not that old-school aristocratic financial institutions can’t survive
in today’s cutthroat world: look at UBS, for instance. But ABN Amro has been
a disappointment for many years now. Groenink is surely praying that Varley
manages to pull the trigger, or that Fortis will run
into trouble with the regulators. But he also knows that, sooner rather
than later, his bank will get sold to whoever can offer his shareholders the
most money. Which might be a little vulgar, but is also perfectly old-fashioned
in its own way.