Published: Friday, December 14, 2007
A New Breed of Billionaire
LANDON THOMAS Jr.
ISTANBUL – Stuck in a traffic jam in his bulletproof BMW, the richest man in
Turkey lets loose with a satisfied grin.
Since 2000, Husnu M. Ozyegin has spent more than $50 million of his own
money, building 36 primary schools and girls’ dormitories in the poorest parts of
Turkey. Next to the Turkish government, Mr. Ozyegin is the biggest individual
supporter of schools in the country – and an official from the education
ministry has told him that his market share is increasing.
`Not bad,’ he says in his gruff, cigarette-scarred voice ashe pockets his
mobile phone. `If I can have an impact on one million Turkish people in the
next 10 years, I will be happy.’
The global wealth boom has created a new breed of billionaire in
once-destitute countries like Turkey, India, Mexico and Russia. Propelled by their
rising economies, robust currencies and globally competitive companies, they have
ridden a surge in local stock markets that have reached previously
untouchable heights in a short five-year timeframe. Now, a number of them are using
their wealth to bolster their standing and push for social changes.
These entrepreneurs, who have made their billions in private sector
industries like telecommunications, petrochemicals and finance, are distinct from a
past generation of international billionaires, most with ties to Middle
Eastern oil or valuable land holdings. Not only have they become the richest men in
their countries; they are among the wealthiest in the world.
For these emerging economies, where loose regulation, opaque privatization
processes and monopolistic business practices abound, this extraordinary and
uneven creation of wealth rivals in many ways the great American fortunes made
at the turn of the 20th century.
While such countries have long been accustomed to vast disparities between a
tiny class of the wealthy elite and the impoverished masses, the new elite
shares some characteristics with counterparts in the United States. And just as
Rockefellers, Carnegies and Morgans once used philanthropy to smooth the
rough edges of their cutthroat business reputations – as have a current
generation of wealthy Americans that includes Bill Gates of Microsoft and Sanford I.
Weill of Citigroup – local billionaires in emerging markets are trying to do
the same.
Global Philanthropy
Carlos Slim Helú, the telecommunications entrepreneur in Mexico who isworth
more than $50 billion, has pledged billions of dollars to his two foundations
that will aid health and education. Roman Abramovich, Russia’s richest man,
who has a net worth of $18 billion, has channeled more than $1 billion into
the impoverished Arctic area of Chukotka, where he also serves as governor,
building schools and hospitals.
And in India, Azim Premji, the chairman of the software company Wipro who is
worth $17 billion, has established his own foundation that supports
elementary education.
To be sure, as these fortunes are still being made, the sums donated are
relatively small in light of the pressing social needs of these countries. But
as return-driven philanthropy has gained in popularity through the efforts of
Mr. Gates and others, emerging market billionaires are applying similar
bottom-line oriented lessons to their own countries.
`What we are seeing in these countries,’ said Jane Wales, president of the
Global Philanthropy Forum, `are people emerging from the private sector with
tremendous wealth who are attracted to highly strategic philanthropy.=80=9D
A Nontraditional Climb
Here in Turkey, Mr. Ozyegin, who is 62 and has a net worth of $3.5 billion,
did not secure his wealth by buying government assets on the cheap or by
belonging to a rich family that controls a monopoly – two traditional routes to
great wealth in the developing world.
The founder of a midtier corporate bank called Finansbank, he cashed in on a
rush of interest by foreign financial institutions in Turkish banks last year
and sold a controlling stake in his bank to the National Bank of Greece,
receiving $2.7 billion in cash.
Flush with money and ambition, he is doing all that he can to lift Turkish
educational standards at the primary and university level.
Sitting in his personal conference room atop Finansbank’s main office in
Istanbul, Mr. Ozyegin recalls Aug. 18, 2006, when the sale of his 49 percent
stake officially closed.
`I remember that day better than my birthday,’ he said, as he leaned back in
a plush leather chair. `I was not only a billionaire but the richest man in
Turkey. It’s a great feeling, but your responsibilities increase.’
Like many self-made billionaires, Mr. Ozyegin has a direct, demanding manner,
and a day spent traveling with him does not yield much casual conversation.
He carries two cellphones, Throughout a long day he juggles calls from his
wife, his assistant, his son and assorted government bureaucrats, as well as
the managers of his various businesses.
He typically works 11-hour days, not solely from his suite of offices but
also from his car, plane or boat, checking in on his far-flung operations in
Turkey as well as Russia, Romania and China.
`I’m first generation, that gives me satisfaction,’he said. `Getting to
the top is not so easy; staying there is more difficult.’
Mr. Ozyegin’s grandparents came to the southern Turkish city of Izmir from
the Greek island of Crete in the late 19th century, during the dying days of
the Ottoman Empire. The son of a doctor, he attended Robert College, an elite
academy in Istanbul, before setting off to Oregon State University in 1963
with $1,000 in his pocket.
An overachiever, he played basketball and led the student government, but
earned mediocre grades. Harvard Business School seemed like a long shot given
that he was in need of a scholarship. But he attached a picture of himself
welcoming Robert F. Kennedy to Oregon State to his application and was accepted.
`I guess they liked me for my leadership abilities,’ he said.
After a successful banking career, he founded Finansbank in 1987, selling his
two homes and borrowing $3 million to get the deal done.
At the outset, the bank’s ambitions were small, providing corporatebanking
services to Turkish businesses. The bank’s fortunes fluctuated in line with
the volatile economy, expanding rapidly during the heady years of strong
economic growth, but facing extinction on two separate occasions, in 1994 and 2001,
when the Turkish markets suffered contractions.
Becoming Competitive
As a businessman, his frequent interaction with Southeast Asia, China and
Russia has impressed upon him the need for Turks to become more competitivein
today’s global economy.
`The most important problem that Turkey has is education,’ he said.
He cites the rapid increase of applications to Harvard Business School from
Chinese and Indian students. Turkey, a smaller country, sends only four to
eight students a year, said Mr. Ozyegin, who meets with the students when he
visits.
Beyond his public school investments, Mr. Ozyegin has plans to spend up to $1
billion over the next 15 years on a new private university, to be called
Ozyegin University.
`I want to do something on a major scale,’ he said. =80=9CMy vision is that we
can train and export people like India does.’
Since he started his building program in 2000, Mr. Ozyegin has completed 36
schools and girls’ dormitories at a cost that varies from $400,000 to $1.8
million each. He wants to reach 100 by 2010. He works closely with the
government, with most of the building taking place in the country’spoorest regions
in the south and northeast.
`That is a lot, it is a very significant number,’ said Filiz Bikmen, the
executive director of Tusev, a philanthropy foundation in Istanbul.
Turkey has the lowest ratio of girls to boys in primary and secondary school
of any country in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development,
which requires its 30 members to meet minimum requirements for living
standards and democratic practices. Turkey’s low standing is a result of a
traditional culture that, especially in poorer areas, places a higher premium on a boy’
s education than a girl’s.
In a country where the ruling party draws its root support from an electorate
that is becoming more Islamic in attitude and outlook, Mr. Ozyegin=80=99s aim to
reach out to undereducated girls touches a sensitive cultural vein (through
his wife’s foundation, Acev, he has also helped pay for women=80=99s literacy and
early education programs in poor parts of the country.)
A practicing Muslim but avowedly secular in outlook, Mr. Ozyegin embodies the
hopes as well as fears of Turkey’s elite, many of its ranks now supporters
of the ruling Justice and Development party, which has led the revitalization
of the Turkish economy.
Mr. Ozyegin hopes that focusing on education as an economic development tool
will help transcend the current bitter disputes over religious practice,
including whether the increase in the number of women wearing head scarves
signifies the emergence of a more Islamic, less secular Turkey.
`I want Turkey to have the same education levels as Europe 25 yearsfrom now,
‘ he said. `Whether you wear a scarf should not matter.=80=9D
A Focus on Education
When Mr. Ozyegin visits a school, he is frequently met by the district=80=99s
mayor, a representative from the education ministry and various other local
notables. His visits, like his business meetings, are swift and to the point – a
sweep through the school’s halls and a barrage of questions directed at school
officials.
At a primary school bearing his name, in a working-class district on the
outskirts of Istanbul, he marches into a classroom of wide-eyed sixth graders
who jump to their feet with the spirit and alacrity of a platoon hailing its
general and he exhorts them to heed their studies.
At another school, he upbraids an official for countenancing stained carpets
and trash that lines the building’s long hallways. `This place is full of
garbage,’ he said, his voice low and angry. `Do something about it. It’s
shameful.’
There are touching moments, too. A newly built primary school in a village
close to the border with Armenia echoes with shouts of its 360 students as Mr.
Ozyegin’s wife, sister and brother-in-law, who oversee the logistics of the
building program, stop by for a visit.
Rarely do the children here attend high school. Many of them speak Kurdish as
their first language, and their parents eke out an existence as sheep and
cow herders.
Clothes are frayed and toes poke through the holes of plastic shoes. But,
like the fading evening light on the snowy peak of nearby Mount Ararat, there
are glimmers of hope, too.
Danyan Kuba, a tall, nervous seventh grader dressed in a coat and tie, is
asked what he wants to be when he grows up. He shifts awkwardly, looks downat
his shoes and back up again. `I want to be a math teacher,’he says in a
strong, clear voice.
For Mr. Ozyegin, becoming one of the richest men in the world has brought its
own pressures. He gets many letters each day. Some ask him to erase the debt
they have on their Finansbank credit cards.
Others are more poignant – recently he received a letter from an admirer in
jail asking for a pair of shoes and a suit, a request he plans to honor.
Like some who have made so much, Mr. Ozyegin likes to keep score.
Warren E. Buffet may be the richest man in the world, but Mr. Ozyegin says,
his wealth has risen faster. `My compounding is better than Buffet’s, but my
track record is only one-half as long,’ he said.
He is also a student of the life of J. P. Morgan: he reels off how much
Morgan, who dominated the world of finance at the turn of the 20th century,left
to his son, daughter and wife, as well as the salary he awarded the captainof
his yacht. But Mr. Ozyegin’s lack of renown on the larger global stage nags
at him.
`I’m giving away 2 percent of my net income every month,=80=9D he said. `I don’t
think Bill Gates is doing that.’
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