‘’Yes, yes, of course.” He had risen nicely to that bait, as I had hoped he would.
The senior official leaned forward. “I take it that your proposals for furniture manufacture are equally unconventional, Mr. Howell?”
“I believe so, sir. No camel-saddle chairs, no ornamental coffee tables, but modern office and hotel furniture of Western design and, again, mass-produced. Some relatively inexpensive machine tools would have to be imported, as would the plastics we would need for surfacing, but the metal fittings could be made here.”
Dr. Hawa returned to the attack. “But in the metal-working field you would surely be thinking in terms of such things as Western-style cutlery.”
“No, Dr. Hawa.”
A sly smile. “Because your Lebanese and Egyptian companies already sell expensive cutlery imported from the United Kingdom?”
So he had done some homework after all.
“No,” I answered, “because the Japanese already dominate the market for mass-produced cutlery. We could never compete. I am thinking in terms of door fastenings, catches, bolts, hinges — building hardware that can be made in quantity using jigs and dies and some inexpensive machine tools such as drill and stamping presses. There must also be modern finishing processes. Handicraft standards would not be adequate.”
The senior official intervened once more. “You again emphasize the use of inexpensive machines, Mr. Howell, but isn’t it the expensive machines which make the inexpensive and competitively priced goods?”
I replied carefully. “Where labour costs are-high that is certainly true. We should endeavour to strike a balance. Labour intensive projects, I agree, are of no value to Syria. But in the refugee camps we have a source, still largely untapped, of unskilled and semi-skilled labour. Under Syrian foremen it could be trained and made useful. I have no doubt that as we progressed we would need, and could use, machine tools that were less simple and more expensive. Our ability to buy them would certainly be one measure of our success. Our inability to do so in the beginning, however, should not foredoom us to failure. In properly guided hands even simple machines can do a lot.”
“It is a relief,” said Dr. Hawa nastily, “to know that Mr. Howell has at least considered the possibility of failure.”
“I have tried to consider all the possibilities, Doctor. I have proposed that the government uses our company and its assets to advance the public interest. Whether you use us or not, or how you use us, are questions which will not, I imagine, be answered today. But if we are to be used, and used successfully, I submit that we can serve you best in the ways I have suggested, employing our limited resources to reach limited but realistic objectives in the foreseeable future.”
The senior official was nodding encouragingly, so I went on quickly before Hawa could interrupt “The projects I most favour, the ones we have been discussing in general terms, are those which can be most easily tried and tested by means of pilot operations. I believe such operations to be essential. When we make mistakes, as we will, they should be on a small scale and rectifiable. On the other hand, all pilot operations, to be of real value, must be big enough for us to make accurate forecasts, projections of our full-scale needs — for raw materials, for example. Simple arithmetic can sometimes be misleading.”
“It can indeed!” Dr. Hawa blew smoke across the table; he had taken charge again. “Having been treated to some entertaining flights of fancy, perhaps we may now return to more prosaic matters. Mr. Howell, are you in fact proposing that the Agence Howell’s blocked funds should be employed entirely to finance these splendid schemes of yours?”
“No,” I said bluntly, “I most certainly am not proposing that.”
Then I fail to see…”
“Allow me to finish, please. Firstly, the amount of company capital available, if it can be made available, would be quite inadequate for the projects we have been discussing. What I am proposing is that company funds are employed to finance and manage the pilot operation in each case. When, and only when, a pilot project has proved itself does it go forward into full-scale production. At that point the government takes over the financing and the company becomes a minority shareholder in a government owned cooperative.’’
Dr. Hawa rolled his eyes in theatrical amazement.
“You would expect me to believe, Mr. Howell, that you and your company would be prepared to work for nothing?”
“No, I don’t. We would expect something in the way of management fees for our work in organizing and developing the projects. They could be nominal, enough to cover normal overhead expenses, let us say. Naturally, all such arrangements would be covered in the formal agreements made between the department of the government concerned and the company.” I paused slightly before I added: “It would, of course, be one of the conditions of our entering into such agreements that our company is granted exclusive agencies for the sale abroad of the products of these joint ventures. I think that sole and exclusive agencies for a period of, say, twenty-five years would be fair and reasonable.”
There was a silence, and then the senior official began making a throat-clearing sound which developed after a moment or two into words of protest.
“But. . but. .” He did not seem quite able to go on. Finally, he threw up his hands. “You could make a fortune!” he cried.
I shook my head. “With respect, sir, I think we are more likely to lose one. However, since our fortune here is now at risk anyway, I would like to reduce the odds against it if I can.”
“The government would never agree.”
“Again with respect, sir, why not? They will be running no risks. By the time they are asked to fund a project, all the risks will have been run for them. It can only be for the good of the economy then, and for the people. Why should they not agree?”
Dr. Hawa said nothing; he was lighting yet another cigarette; but he seemed to be amused.
A month later the first of the draft agreements was initialled; by me on behalf of the company and by Dr. Hawa on behalf of the newly formed People’s Industrial Progress Cooperative.
The news had a mixed reception in Beirut, and I had to preside over an unusually prolonged board meeting. My sisters, Euridice and Amalia, both had husbands who, with one qualifying share apiece, attended these meetings as voting directors.
This lamentable arrangement had been initiated by my father in the last months of his life; mainly, I think, because it made him uneasy to see more women than men seated around a boardroom table — even when the women in question were his own wife and daughters. Having dealt so much with Muslims over the years, he had become inclined in some ways to think like them. By the time he had learned to regret the arrangement, however, he was too ill and tired to do anything about rescinding it. That task he had bequeathed to me, and, since I was unwilling to precipitate a major family quarrel during my first year in command, I had postponed taking the necessary action.
I don’t dislike my brothers-in-law; they are both worthy men, but one is a dentist and the other an associate professor of physics. Neither of them knows anything about business. Yet, while both would be understandably affronted if I offered to advise them in their professional capacities, neither has ever hesitated for a moment to tender detailed criticisms of, and advice about, the management of our company. They regard business, somewhat indulgently, as a sort of game which anyone with a little common sense can always join in and play perfectly. With the dreadful persistence of those who argue off the tops of their heads from positions of total ignorance, they would make their irrelevant points and formulate their senseless proposals while my sisters took it in turn to nod their idiotic heads in approval. Having to listen to these blithe fatuities was almost as exhausting as having later to dispose of them without being unforgivably offensive. No, I don’t dislike my brothers-in-law; but there have been times when I have wished them dead.