July 2009
Back in 2003, Mr Robert Friedland, director of Ivanhoe Mines, told me in a conversation that was later published that in some respects he found Mongolia “quite similar“ to his own country, Canada. They both had “giant neighbours“ and “vast territories rich in mineral and other resources, with a small population“. Canada’s most important market was the USA, its southern neighbour, just as Mongolia’s was China. “Our experience of conducting business with the USA would help us in managing the export of Mongolian mineral resources to the grand market of the People’s Republic of China, once we have studied conditions there andprepared ourselves carefully,” he said. He told me they expected the mine to be operational in 2007, and was categorical that Ivanhoe “will remain in Mongolia for many years to come, and even if it forms partnerships with other companies or sells some shares to them, it will not sell all its interests and leave Mongolia after some time“.
This brief interview can claim to have introduced readers in Mongolia to Mr Friedland, already well-known in global mining, alternating between fame and notoriety. Right from the time Ivanhoe Mines first struck root here, it knew how important China would be for its work in mining Mongolia’s resources. He also understood the need to keep a suspicious media correctly informed. One of the first things he did after arriving in Mongolia in 2001 was to pay a visit to the editorial office of the Mongol News Group, determined to make a good impression on the public, through what reporters would write about him and Ivanhoe.
Eight years later, Mr Friedland is not so keen on seeing his name in the newspapers, on public exposure in any form. Repeated instances of impetuous and indiscreet comments have earned him the reputation of a blabbermouth and he has been advised by his friends and well-wishers to hold his tongue until the Oyu Tolgoi agreement is initialled. Indeed, there are people in town whose blood pressure goes haywire upon hearing his name. Over the last eight years, enough vitriol has been poured on him and his company by suspicious reporters, driving the man behind a curtain, left pondering the enigmatic fate of the Oyu Tolgoi project.
The project is at long last ready to move forward.
After six years of intense negotiations the two parties to the agreement have come closer on several issues, but certainly not all. The six years have taught Mongolia the value of transparency and the futility of concealment. They have also stressed the importance of asserting national rights and interests in a nationally united manner. A single voice commands more respect during a bargain than a fractured chorus. At the same time, they have taught Mongolia to realise the brutal realities of the world market, where sentiments have no place. As it has gradually come to accept that wishes cannot be horses it has also gained the confidence to parley with powerful investors on a footing of equality, giving no quarter, nor expecting it. Therefore, I do not agree with those who harshly see the past six years as needless waste of time, nor do I see it fit to blame our parliament for working too slowly for some.
Two investment agreements have been drafted in the last six years with contribution from six working groups. They have been discussed by four governments and two parliaments and the final lap is being watched by a second president. The investors, too, have been patient, commendably so. Mr Friedland has kept his word, not leaving Mongolia after selling his shares to a Chinese company, as I had thought he would. It feels nice to find that my suspicions as an honest reporter were wrong, and even nicer to find that Mongolia has understood that united we stand, divided we fall. All our disappointment of the past years is lit up by the fact that the two major parties of the country, often at loggerheads, regularly sit together to formulate a joint stand on the investment agreement. This consensus to further national interests has been our biggest achievement. In all our history, have we Mongolians ever worked together like this?
Due credit should be given to the national civil movements, which received a lot of flak but never gave up their vocal demand that the Oyu Tolgoi agreement must be concluded, and also must be seen as being concluded, only on terms beneficial to Mongolia. Time and again they drew the attention of the public to aspects of the agreement that were of doubtful merit.
These days national security is measured by economic security, and only a vigilant citizenry can ensure that this security is not breached by carelessness, or worse.
It is pleasant to anticipate that we are going to abandon our national pastime of playing politics for its own sake. The process of sending the resources of Oyu Tolgoi and Tavan Tolgoi into economic circulation is ready to start. Mongolians have waited long for this happy day when their national resources will be efficiently used to provide pillars for prosperity.
Spring in Mongolia can find the wind blowing cold and strong, daring human endurance, searing the cheeks. Relief comes in the form of Naadam, a time when Mongolians get inspiration for their soul from taking part in three sports that have been played the same way for eight hundred years. As the horses seem to fly along the wide steppe, which Mongolian does not feel one with all who have come before to weave and strengthen the fabric of national cultural unity? Our harsh history and harsher geography have given us Heaven’s blessings of patience and prudence, sometimes misunderstood as plodding and passivity. As another season of joy approaches, we see autumn round the corner, the season of mellow fruitfulness.