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      China Souring on Indonesia?      
      Written by Gavin Bowring     
      Wednesday, 10 July 2013  
        
             
            More than just coal 
      Java Jive is losing its fizz

      Gandaria City is the largest retail mall amid the growing high rises of 
south Jakarta, but for many years it stood as a half-finished skeleton. Its 
Indonesian-Chinese developer, Pakuwon Group, racked up huge debts during the 
Asian Financial Crisis of 1997 and was unable to complete the project. 

      Yet soon after making forays into China during the mid-2000s, the firm 
suddenly found itself in a position to finish the massive complex—supported, it 
is widely believed, by deep-pocketed Chinese investors. 

      Such informal flows of money into Indonesian property, as well as natural 
resources, agriculture, retail and trading businesses, underpin China's 
economic clout in Southeast Asia's largest economy. 

      Gandaria City shows how Chinese investment has benefited Indonesia. But 
at a more macro level, many ambitious Chinese investment promises never 
materialize or disappoint in delivery. In part this is due to the two 
countries' sharply contrasting legal frameworks and a mutual lack of 
familiarity: having only re-established diplomatic relations in 1990, distrust 
still lingers below the surface. More important, the relationship lacks strong 
foundations. 

      There is little integration of manufacturing supply chains and, apart 
from oil and gas, most Chinese investment is limited to short-term resource 
deals or equipment contracting. Unless Chinese companies establish deeper roots 
in Indonesia, China's influence there is likely to wane as international 
competition heats up, notably from a rejuvenated Japan.

      The lure of the tropics
      When the Asian financial crisis brought economic turmoil to Indonesia in 
1997, most foreign investors fled—except for Chinese companies, which won 
infrastructure tenders on a wave of cheap financing. Under Indonesia's chaotic 
transition from dictatorship to democracy, independence was granted to nearly 
500 sub-regional governments. 

      Local governors sought to exploit resource-rich lands by issuing 
lucrative mining and land-use licenses to Chinese investors. As commodity 
demand started to take off, Chinese companies entered in droves. The numbers 
mushroomed in 2009-10, when laws on foreign ownership were relaxed. By 2011, 
Indonesia had issued over 10,000 mining licenses, compared to 500 just a decade 
earlier.

      Since the late 1990s, Chinese investments have grown in both size and 
scope. They run the gamut from transport to finance, shipping to light 
manufacturing (mainly textiles and air-conditioners). There have been some 
genuine success stories—notably Huawei, which manages a large chunk of 
Indonesia's telecoms market in a partnership with mobile operator XL Axiata; 
Haier, which acquired Sanyo's Indonesian household goods businesses in 2012; 
and China Harbour Engineering, which built Indonesia's longest bridge, linking 
the islands of Java and Madura. 

      Still, the focus of China's economic interest in Indonesia remains skewed 
heavily towards raw materials extraction and power-plant contracting. Over the 
past decade, state-owned power companies China Huadian, Dongfang Electric and 
Sinohydro won major contracts to build coal-fired power stations and hydro 
plants. China Power International (CPI) and China International Corporation 
(CIC), China's sovereign wealth fund, were given significant stakes in coal 
mines in turn. 

      Yet many investments have disappointed. Take the Cilacap plant in south 
Java, built by China Huadian and Shanghai Electric, which opened two years 
late, operates at 60%-70% capacity, and requires frequent maintenance. Critics 
accuse Chinese companies of importing thousands of Chinese workers to build 
plants, and blame their poor management for faulty machinery. 

      Tensions over Chinese resource acquisitions and have spilled over into 
central government, notably over China's reluctance to revise a major natural 
gas delivery contract. In 2002, BPMigas, Indonesia's oil and gas regulator, 
signed a deal with China National Offshore Oil Corp (Cnooc) to deliver an 
annual 2.6 mt of liquefied natural gas from Papua's Tangguh field to Fujian. 
The deal was based on a global oil price of US$25 a barrel, but when delivery 
began in 2009 the oil price had risen above US$100. Cnooc refused to 
renegotiate the price with BPMigas, partly in a tit-for-tat response to 
Indonesian complaints about faulty Chinese machinery in other projects. This 
was a major contributing factor to the decision by Indonesia's Constitutional 
Court to dissolve BPMigas and hand over its responsibilities to the energy 
ministry.

      Greasing oily palms
      Opposition to the infrastructure-for-resources model extends far beyond 
minerals. In 2005, President Yudhoyono announced the "Kalimantan Border Palm 
Oil Megaproject," an 1.8m hectare plan that would destroy extensive areas of 
forest along the Malaysian border. Under the plan, several Chinese companies 
including state-owned investment company Citic Group would acquire one-third of 
the area in return for building roads and railways. 

      But critics viewed Kalimantan as a crony deal to clear land for lucrative 
timber, and popular opposition forced the government to scrap the project. The 
Chinese companies involved became tarred with the brush of corruption. Since 
then, a number of other investments in Indonesian agriculture have never 
materialized, including Cnooc's US$5.5 bn plan to convert 1m hectares of land 
in West Kalimantan into palm oil and biodiesel facilities.

      Other firms have had to scale down their ambition. One is China Sonangol, 
a controversial Hong Kong-Angolan oil dealer with murky links to the Chinese 
state. Seeking new markets outside Africa, it tried—and failed—to use its 
political connections to get a foothold in large integrated mining and 
infrastructure projects in Sumatra. Instead it settled for a modest stake in 
the Cepu oil block, one of Indonesia's most prom\ ising recent oil discoveries, 
and a chunk of Jakarta real estate. This was not such a bad outcome, but it was 
much less than China Sonangal had hoped for. 

      In addition, many ambitious Chinese railway investments in Sumatra and 
Kalimantan have failed to materialize. Many resource-based investments by 
China's state-owned enterprises (SOEs) have been scuppered by unrealistic 
targets or political backlash. Yet an even bigger obstacle for all Chinese 
firms is their inability to get to grips with Indonesia's institutions. 
Indonesia's legal framework is highly arbitrary and convoluted—allowing 
contrasting interpretations at central, provincial and sub-provincial levels, 
and between Dutch civil, Islamic shariah and traditional adat law. Social, 
ethnic and religious tensions add further complexity in Indonesia's 
resource-rich hinterlands. 

      Chinese companies have found that investment security is not guaranteed, 
and that contracts are often renegotiated or canceled whenever a governor is 
replaced. Under Indonesian law, a regional authority can revoke a mining 
license even if it is at fault for any mismanagement! 

      Legal uncertainties are responsible for a long list of failed investment 
pledges. Constant changes to regulations in mining and other resource 
industries have deterred would-be investors. Between 2005 and 2010, scores of 
Chinese provincial government delegations signed agreements directly with local 
governments, yet they have little to show for it. "Part of the problem is that, 
because China's investments in Indonesia are often highly opportunistic, many 
companies rely on brokering deals with the government through their links with 
Indonesian Chinese businessmen," says Julian Hill, a consultant at Deloitte. 
"Chinese companies often believe these middlemen can help them weave through 
Indonesia's bureaucratic web, but in fact they wield much less real political 
power than counterparts elsewhere in Southeast Asia." 

      Where's the cash?
      Yet a handful of other companies have had more success. Petrochemicals 
conglomerate Sinochem—which claims to be the largest direct supplier of 
Indonesian rubber to China—owns huge plantations across the country. Even 
smaller Chinese agribusinesses such as Mazhongdu International and Hainan 
Baisha own tens of thousands of hectares. Nor have Chinese SOEs scaled back 
their ambitions to win infrastructure tenders. 

      Sinohydro is repowering dams in West Java; Gezhouba Group, China Huadian 
and its subsidiaries are still pushing ahead with various coal and hydro power 
plants; and Shanghai Construction and China Harbour Engineering are building 
toll roads in Java with financing from state policy lender China Eximbank.

      There is no shortage of ambitious infrastructure plans. China Harbour 
Engineering and China Railway Construction want to build railway systems, 
including a Jakarta airport express train and a double track railway from 
Jakarta to Solo. Chinese companies are still actively bidding for a US$3bn 
Central Kalimantan coal railway. In Sumatra, China Development Bank (CDB) wants 
to finance a US$1.3 bn, 300-km coal railway line and a US$1.5 bn, 1,200MW 
coal-powered plant. Most ambitious of all is China Railway Construction's plan 
to build a US$11 bn suspension bridge connecting the main islands of Java and 
Sumatra.

      The biggest issue for these projects is financing. The cost of capital in 
China is rising, and most Chinese lenders now refuse to lend to Indonesian 
projects that do not come with some form of sovereign guarantee. 

      Yet a large chunk of Indonesia's US$100 bn of foreign exchange reserves 
is already being used as collateral for existing projects. And neither Chinese 
lenders nor Indonesia's Ministry of Finance are willing to assume increased 
levels of financial risk.

      As Chinese lenders reduce their exposure to non-sovereign-backed 
projects, opportunities are growing for international competitors. Japanese and 
South Korean companies have re-entered Indonesia, competing in a wide range of 
construction tenders under the Indonesian government's "Master plan for 
Economic Development." 

      Japan has embarked on a multi-pronged charm offensive, in part to secure 
crucial gas supplies to replace its shuttered nuclear facilities. 

      Japanese and Korean companies are often more willing than their Chinese 
competitors to assume operational risks in project finance schemes such as 
build-operate-transfer deals. And they enjoy easy access to record low costs of 
capital—an advantage traditionally enjoyed by Chinese state-owned players.

      Japan's five biggest trading houses—Mitsui, Mitsubishi, Sumitomo, 
Marubeni and Itochu—already have over US$9 bn in current Indonesian lending 
exposure. This is continuing to grow rapidly, with Itochu developing major 
geothermal and coal power plants in Java and Sumatra, while Mitsui recently 
bagged a contract to expand Indonesia's largest port. Japanese lending 
institutions are committed to financing a wide range of projects, such as the 
Jakarta monorail and a Jakarta-Bandung express train. And small Japanese 
manufacturers are flocking to Jakarta's industrial estates.

      Uncertain times ahead
      Looking ahead, Chinese investment in Indonesia will shift away from coal 
mining and palm oil. Sinochem and ZTE Energy, an agribusiness arm of the 
Shenzhen-based telecoms manufacturer, both bid for 150,000 hectares of palm-oil 
plantations in 2012, but were promptly rejected. Indonesia plans to restrict 
new plantations to a maximum 100,000 hectares and extend forest moratoriums. 
Oil and gas look a better bet. China is a significant player in Indonesia: CNPC 
is its seventh largest oil producer, Cnooc has several major oilfield stakes, 
and Sinopec has various exploration contracts and storage facilities. 
Indonesia's existing oilfields are maturing and urgently need new investment. 

      Finally, there is considerable potential to boost investment in 
agriculture beyond palm oil. Indonesia has huge swathes of uncultivated arable 
land and sorely needs to increase rice production and productivity, while China 
is keen to supplement its own diminishing reserve of farmland.

      If Indonesia's leaders have their way, they will steer foreign investment 
away from resources and into manufacturing. Unfortunately for them, most 
Chinese companies view Indonesia as an export market rather than as a 
competitive production base. Passengers on planes from China to Indonesia are 
filled with small traders from Guangdong and Anhui carrying boxes of basic 
consumer goods destined for markets in Jakarta or Surabaya. There are few 
integrated supply chains between China and Indonesia to compare to those with 
Malaysia and Singapore. Indonesia's trade deficit exceeded US$1bn during 2012, 
and remains at risk of widening. That would not be good for increased economic 
engagement.

      For the moment, Chinese investors are also nervously awaiting 2014's 
presidential elections. Some worry that potential frontrunner Prabowo 
Subianto—a son-in-law of President Suharto, who is known for his strong 
nationalist sentiments—harbors a deep anti-Chinese grudge. Rumor has that he 
was complicit in 1997's riots which targeted the local Chinese community, 
killing hundreds. 

      These fears may well be exaggerated, as Prabowo has begun to fade, but it 
would not be hard for politicians to exploit Indonesia's undercurrent of 
economic nationalism and sensitivity over the trade balance. Until these 
political uncertainties are resolved, many Chinese investments will remain off 
the table.

      (Reprinted from China Economic Quarterly, published by GaveKal 
Dragonomics)
     


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