On Internet rules, India now more willing to say ICANN

Mar 16: An investigation into Coffee Day Enterprises Ltd., initiated by its board after the death of founder V.G. Siddhartha, is likely to conclude that at least Rs 2,000 crore is missing from its accounts, according to people familiar with the matter.

The months-long probe following the suicide of Siddhartha in July examined the financial transactions of India’s largest coffee chain and its dealings with dozens of private companies owned by the entrepreneur. The draft report, running more than a hundred pages, points to thousands of rupees that have gone missing, said the people, asking not to be named because the details aren’t public. It also details hundreds of transactions between the founder’s listed and personal businesses that were not conducted at arm’s length, they said.

Though the report is in its final stages, the precise details could change before its release, expected as early as this week, the people said. The missing funds could total more than Rs 2500 crore, one person said.

“The investigation report is still a work in progress, and not finalized,” a spokesman for the company said. “The board of directors and the company are unaware of its content at this point of time. Hence it would be premature to speculate on the investigation findings.”

The priority for management and Siddhartha’s family “is to keep the business running in a challenging environment and meet all stakeholder commitments, including 30,000 jobs associated with the group,” the spokesman added.

The disappearance of the 59-year-old founder last year stunned India’s business community. He had last been seen telling his driver he was going for an evening walk along a bridge in southern India; his body was found by local fishermen two days later. A letter delivered to Coffee Day’s board and employees, which appeared to be signed by Siddhartha, described massive debts and complained of pressure from lenders and tax authorities. It claimed he bore sole responsibility for the company’s financial transactions.

The probe began about a month later when the company brought in Ashok Kumar Malhotra, a retired senior official from India’s federal enforcement agency, to investigate. A senior lawyer practicing in India’s top court is assisting, the company said in a regulatory filing at the time.

The publicly traded Coffee Day was supposed to be India’s answer to Starbucks Corp. More than 1,500 of its Café Coffee Day outlets blanketed cities and highways, with affordable options for the country’s aspiring middle classes. The chain’s tagline: “A lot can happen over coffee.”

But the empire has been battered since the founder’s death. Its shares plummeted about 90% and its market value dropped to about $80 million. Trading was suspended in February.

India’s regulators are tracking the situation and may use the company’s final report as part of a deeper dive into its internal affairs, the people said. Coffee Day showed about Rs 2400 crore in cash and cash equivalents on its balance sheet as of March 2019, the most recent figures the company has issued.

After the death of Siddhartha however, the company faced a severe liquidity crunch and had “zero cash in the bank,” according to one of the people. It struggled with day-to-day expenses and paying salaries has been a strain, the person said.

The draft report details personal guarantees by Siddhartha for loans taken by Coffee Day, and his unsecured loans at high interest rates from local money lenders, the people said. It also probes Coffee Day’s defaults to coffee growers and other vendors, they said.

A related issue is that coffee estates owned by Siddhartha and several employees had been used as collateral for bank loans. The report found that valuations for properties were inflated to get the loans, one person said.

Investigators have examined several theories about what happened to the company’s money, including whether Coffee Day was manipulating its finances to show cash and profit and whether Siddhartha was taking cash out of the listed company to pay off a large investor to whom he had guaranteed a return, the person said. From the filings of his listed and private companies, the entrepreneur’s loans had totaled more than Rs 10,000 crore, and he had been squeezed by borrowing to repay interest on earlier loans, the person said.

In the letter purportedly from Siddhartha, the entrepreneur said he had tried his best but failed as an entrepreneur. “I am solely responsible for all mistakes,” the letter read. “Every financial transaction is my responsibility. My team, auditors and senior management are totally unaware of all my transactions. The law should hold me and only me accountable, as I have withheld this information from everybody including my family.”

As the report nears release, Coffee Day is finalizing a deal with Blackstone Group Inc. for real estate assets. A large tranche of the payment is due in about a week, one person said.

Coffee Day said it is working to reduce its debt load by divesting non-core enterprises.

“The aim is to save employment and preserve this iconic Indian brand,” the spokesman said.

Jan 13: For the first time in years, the government of India’s Prime Minister Narendra Modi is playing defense. Protests have sprung up across the country against an amendment to India’s laws — which came into effect on Friday — that makes it easier for members of some religions to become citizens of India. The government claims this is simply an attempt to protect religious minorities in the Muslim-majority countries that border India; but protesters see it as the first step toward a formal repudiation of India’s constitutionally guaranteed secularism — and one that must be resisted.

Modi was re-elected prime minister last year with an enhanced majority; his hold over the country’s politics is absolute. The formal opposition is weak, discredited and disorganized. Yet, somehow, the anti-Citizenship Act protests have taken hold. No political party is behind them; they are generally arranged by student unions, neighborhood associations and the like.

Yet this aspect of their character is precisely what will worry Modi and his right-hand man, Home Minister Amit Shah. They know how to mock and delegitimize opposition parties with ruthless efficiency. Yet creating a narrative that paints large, flag-waving crowds as traitors is not quite that easy.

For that is how these protests look: large groups of young people, many carrying witty signs and the national flag. They meet and read the preamble to India’s Constitution, into which the promise of secularism was written in the 1970’s.

They carry photographs of the Constitution’s drafter, the Columbia University-trained economist and lawyer B. R. Ambedkar. These are not the mobs the government wanted. They hoped for angry Muslims rampaging through the streets of India’s cities, whom they could point to and say: “See? We must protect you from them.” But, in spite of sometimes brutal repression, the protests have largely been nonviolent.

One, in Shaheen Bagh in a Muslim-dominated sector of New Delhi, began simply as a set of local women in a square, armed with hot tea and blankets against the chill Delhi winter. It has now become the focal point of a very different sort of resistance than what the government expected. Nothing could cure the delusions of India’s Hindu middle class, trained to see India’s Muslims as dangerous threats, as effectively as a group of otherwise clearly apolitical women sipping sweet tea and sharing their fears and food with anyone who will listen.

Modi was re-elected less than a year ago; what could have changed in India since then? Not much, I suspect, in most places that voted for him and his party — particularly the vast rural hinterland of northern India. But urban India was also possibly never quite as content as electoral results suggested. India’s growth dipped below 5% in recent quarters; demand has crashed, and uncertainty about the future is widespread. Worse, the government’s response to the protests was clearly ill-judged. University campuses were attacked, in one case by the police and later by masked men almost certainly connected to the ruling party.

Protesters were harassed and detained with little cause. The courts seemed uninterested. And, slowly, anger began to grow on social media — not just on Twitter, but also on Instagram, previously the preserve of pretty bowls of salad. Instagram is the one social medium over which Modi’s party does not have a stranglehold; and it is where these protests, with their photogenic signs and flags, have found a natural home. As a result, people across urban India who would never previously have gone to a demonstration or a political rally have been slowly politicized.

India is, in fact, becoming more like a normal democracy. “Normal,” that is, for the 2020’s. Liberal democracies across the world are politically divided, often between more liberal urban centers and coasts, and angrier, “left-behind” hinterlands. Modi’s political secret was that he was that rare populist who could unite both the hopeful cities and the resentful countryside. Yet this once magic formula seems to have become ineffective. Five of India’s six largest cities are not ruled by Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party in any case — the financial hub of Mumbai changed hands recently. The BJP has set its sights on winning state elections in Delhi in a few weeks. Which way the capital’s voters will go is uncertain. But that itself is revealing — last year, Modi swept all seven parliamentary seats in Delhi.

In the end, the Citizenship Amendment Act is now law, the BJP might manage to win Delhi, and the protests might die down as the days get unmanageably hot and state repression increases. But urban India has put Modi on notice. His days of being India’s unifier are over: From now on, like all the other populists, he will have to keep one eye on the streets of his country’s cities.