Thus, during the 1950s, while other nations in the region struggled with the political and economic consequences of independence, Japan’s economy boomed, and Chase emerged as the principal private banking source of dollar funding for the Japanese government. We provided hundreds of millions of dollars for the rebuilding of the Japanese economy when they desperately needed external dollar financing. This was a bonanza for Chase while it lasted.
By the early 1960s, however, this profitable business began to dry up when surging exports enabled the Japanese to accumulate huge dollar surpluses on their own. By then the economic prospects of a few other Asian countries started to look more promising, and a number of our major corporate clients started to expand into Southeast Asia and South Korea. We realized then that we ran the risk of losing their business if we failed to move beyond our Japanese base to accommodate their needs.
All of these factors compelled Chase to purchase the three Far Eastern branches of the Dutch-based Nationale Handelsbank, giving us a position for the first time in both Bangkok and Singapore, and getting us back into Hong Kong. A crucial component of the deal was our ability to retain the services of the able group of Dutch bank managers we inherited from the Handelsbank. They had the language skills and expertise to deal with local businessmen, and also helped us retain the regional business of several important international corporations.
Chase took advantage of the region’s evolving economies and during the course of the 1960s opened additional branches in Kuala Lumpur, Seoul, and Jakarta, as well as Saigon to supplement the military banking facilities we had established throughout Vietnam at the request of the Defense Department. Asia, or at least a small part of it, was on the move, and I was delighted that Chase was positioned to participate in it.
The one uncertain element in this otherwise positive picture was the attitude of the Chinese leadership in Beijing. China’s huge population, massive military establishment, and latent economic strength made its future course of action of great interest to everyone. Would the PRC maintain its domestic isolation while continuing to support revolutionary movements elsewhere in Asia, or would they adopt more moderate economic and political policies that would make them part of an emerging market-oriented system in the region? This was the critical question that preoccupied many thoughtful people as the decade of the 1960s drew to a close. It certainly was on the minds of those of us involved with implementing Chase’s strategy of expansion in Asia.
A SUITCASE FULL OF MONEY
Once Nixon’s China strategy became clear and relations between the United States and the PRC started to improve, I began to consider the possibility of visiting China myself. The prospect of doing so became more realistic after the PRC replaced Nationalist China in the United Nations in November 1971. This event signaled the end of mainland China’s years of isolation and its intention to become a responsible player in world politics.
Shortly after Nixon’s return from Beijing in 1972, I asked Henry Kissinger for advice on the best way to get permission to enter China. He told me to contact Ambassador Huang Hua, the PRC’s permanent representative to the United Nations and the senior Chinese diplomat stationed in the United States; Huang was well connected with Zhou Enlai’s faction of the Politburo. Henry counseled patience since the Chinese continued to be extremely cautious about granting access to foreigners in general and, at least at that time, seemed to prefer carefully stage-managing visits of selected journalists and scholars rather than hosting bankers and businessmen.
Henry was right. It took more than a year to arrange an invitation. Henry’s support was certainly crucial, but astute marketing by one of the bank’s officers also contributed significantly to my success. When Leo Pierre, the Chase vice president responsible for relationships with the United Nations, learned that Huang and his entourage would arrive in New York, he guessed they might find it difficult to obtain “spending money” to tide them over their first few days. Leo filled a suitcase with $50,000 in cash and spent all day in the lobby of the Roosevelt Hotel waiting for the Chinese delegation to arrive. When they finally turned up, he presented himself to the Ambassador, explained his purpose for being there, and handed over the suitcase, politely refusing even to accept a receipt for the instant loan.
Huang was impressed by Leo’s gesture, and soon afterward the Chinese mission opened an account with Chase. With this positive background I asked Leo in January 1973 to deliver a letter from Peggy and me to the Ambassador and his wife, Li Liang, asking them to join us for tea at our home. We received a prompt acceptance. Even though they had been in New York for more than a year, it turned out that this was their first visit to a private home. At first they appeared a bit uncomfortable with the surroundings. We quickly ran through the formalities, and the conversation began to drag. Peggy valiantly tried to keep the ball rolling by apologizing for not being able to offer them a traditional “tea ceremony.” When Peggy saw my appalled expression, she realized she had confused a Japanese tradition with the Chinese and beat an embarrassed retreat! Our polished Chinese guests never gave the slightest indication that Peggy had made a gaffe.
Only as they were leaving did I mention my interest in visiting China. The Ambassador was studiously noncommittal. He said only that he was returning to Beijing for a short visit and would enjoy seeing us again when he returned.
Secretary-General Kurt Waldheim had invited us to a farewell dinner that same evening for George Bush, who was retiring as U.S. ambassador to the U.N. There were only sixteen guests, and among them were our afternoon “tea” companions. Ambassador Huang was surprised to see Peggy and me at what he thought was a diplomats-only function. It was a happy coincidence and may have suggested to him that I had interests and contacts beyond banking, which may have strengthened my chances of securing another meeting with him.
A few months later the Ambassador wrote to let me know he had returned to New York. I invited him to visit the Museum of Modern Art, which he had never seen, and to have lunch afterward at our home. As we sipped an aperitif, Huang casually mentioned that Peggy and I were on the invitation list for Pakistani Airline’s inaugural flight from Rawalpindi to Beijing. He said it had occurred to him that we might prefer to travel to China directly and on our own. I was delighted by this rather oblique invitation, which I immediately accepted. At my request he agreed to include in the invitation my executive assistant, Joseph Reed, and his wife, Mimi; Frank Stankard, the head of Chase’s Asian operations; and James Pusey, a China scholar and the son of my old friend Nathan Pusey, the former president of Harvard, who acted as our interpreter.
Waiting at the Tarrytown railway station for the arrival of Grandfather’s casket, May 25, 1937. Left to right: Father, me, Nelson, Winthrop, Laurance, and John. (CORBIS)
Standing with Grandfather and my great-uncle William A. Rockefeller at the Eyrie, our summer home overlooking Seal Harbor on Mount Desert Island in Maine, in the summer of 1920. Grandfather and Uncle William had built Standard Oil into the greatest corporate enterprise of its day. (DR photo collection)
Mother and Father shortly after their marriage in 1901. (Courtesy of the Rockefeller Archive Center)
A panel of the Unicorn Tapestry that hung in Father’s special gallery next door to our house on West 54th Street in Manhattan. I would often take visitors on tours and explain the story of the unicorn, an allegory of Christ’s death and resurrection. (Courtesy of the Rockefeller Archive Center)
The Eyrie. (Photo by Ezra Stoller Associates; courtesy of the Rockefeller Archive Center)
Roller-skating to school along Central Park during the 1920s. Father insisted on daily exercise, and this was my way of doing it. (DR photo collection)
Learning to sail aboard the Jack Tar in Maine. (DR photo collection)
The six of us in Maine in the mid-1930s. Winthrop and I are still in knickers, flanked by Laurance, Nelson, John, and our sister, Babs, who would marry David Milton the following year. (DR photo collection)
A stop in
the desert near Megiddo on the way to Damascus after our trip down the Nile in the spring of 1929. Dr. James Breasted, the famous archaeologist from the Oriental Institute at the University of Chicago, is third from the right. Father and Mother are to his right. Mary Todhunter Clark, whom Nelson married the following year, is fashionably dressed for the journey in cloche hat, furs, and high heels! I am third from the left. (Courtesy of the University of Chicago)
Rockefeller Center under construction. The Center was Father’s great gamble with the fortune Grandfather had entrusted to him. This 1932 photo shows the RCA Building nearing completion, with the graceful spire of the Chrysler Building in the background. (Courtesy of the Rockefeller Center Archives)
Hitler striding through the streets of Munich in December 1937. I pushed my way to the front of the crowd and snapped the photo just as the dictator passed. (DR photo collection)
Peggy and I on our wedding day, September 7, 1940. (DR photo collection)
My brothers and I just after our return from the war. Nelson has already begun to assume the leadership of our generation from John. (Photo by Philippe Halsman; courtesy of the Philippe Halsman estate)
The leadership team at the new Chase Manhattan Bank in 1956. Jack McCloy is in the center, with Stewart Baker, the former chairman of the Bank of Manhattan Company, on his left. George Champion is standing. The great rivalry between George and me, which would dominate the bank’s affairs for almost fifteen years, began at this time. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
The construction of Chase’s new headquarters in the early 1960s. Our building was the first step in the revival and redevelopment of Wall Street. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
Father and Martha. Father’s remarriage severely strained relations within the family. (UPI; courtesy of the Rockefeller Archive Center)
Nelson and I on Wall Street during his 1970 gubernatorial campaign. Despite our personal differences, Nelson could always bring a smile to my face. (Photo by Arthur Levine; courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
The life of a banker: trying out a motor scooter at a customer’s production facility near Milan, Italy, 1957. (Publifoto; DR photo collection)
Overseeing the branding of our “collateral” on a cattle ranch in Panama, 1961. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
The Twin Towers of the World Trade Center near completion in July 1971. This project marked the culmination of Wall Street’s redevelopment, which began when Chase decided to locate its new headquarters downtown. The old elevated West Side Highway runs along the base of the towers, and at the extreme right is the fill from the World Trade Center, upon which the World Financial Center would rise in later years. (Photo by the Downtown–Lower Manhattan Association; courtesy of the Rockefeller Archive Center)
Retirement. The shirt was only partially facetious, as I would soon discover. (Photo by Arthur Levine; courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
My memorable meeting with Nikita Khrushchev in the Kremlin in 1964. The Soviet leader assured me that my daughter Neva would eventually live under a Communist system in the United States. Viktor Sukhodrev, the interpreter, is also pictured. (Courtesy of Wide World Photos)
Introducing Peggy to Zhou Enlai on the steps of the Great Hall of the People in Beijing in 1973. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
In November 1969, Henry Kissinger, the National Security Advisor, and I listen to President Richard M. Nixon deliver a speech. A few weeks later, word that I had urged the President to pursue a “more balanced course” with regard to Israel and the Arab states leaked to the press and caused both me and the bank a great deal of trouble. (White House photo; courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
With the incomparable Anwar Sadat in Cairo in January 1974. Sadat was mercurial and demanding, and our relationship had its difficult moments. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
A meal with Golda Meir, the Prime Minister of Israel, part of my effort to achieve balance for Chase in the turbulent Middle East. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
King Hussein on the steps of the Chase plane in Amman, Jordan. Hussein was an able politician and a quiet force for peace in the Middle East. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
On my way to the qat party in San’a, Yemen, in 1978. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
Peggy and I with Joseph Verner Reed, my friend and indispensable executive assistant during my tenure as the chairman and CEO of the bank, at an International Advisory Committee dinner in 1978. (Courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
President Carter’s geniality quickly disappeared this day in April 1980 when I pressed him to allow the Shah of Iran to enter the United States. (White House photo; courtesy of the J.P. Morgan Chase & Co. Archives)
George Landau (left) and I meet with President George Bush, Secretary of State James Baker (second from right), and National Security Advisor Brent Scowcroft (right) at the State Department in May 1990 to support the North American Free Trade Agreement. (White House photo; DR photo collection)
The end of a marathon session with Fidel Castro in Havana in February 2001. Pete Peterson, chairman of the Council on Foreign Relations, is on Castro’s left. My back is to the camera. (Photo by Jeffrey A. Reinke; courtesy of the Council on Foreign Relations)
A group from the Council on Foreign Relations met with Chairman Yasser Arafat in Gaza in 1999, before the most recent outbreak of violence in Israel and the West Bank. (Photo by Jeffrey A. Reinke; courtesy of the Council on Foreign Relations)
Nelson Mandela is the most courageous and compassionate human being I have ever met. Here, I am introducing him to a group of businessmen at a breakfast I hosted in New York in 2000. (Associated Press/Wide World Photos)
During the New York City fiscal crisis, Pat Patterson of J.P. Morgan (second from left), Walter Wriston of Citibank (third from left), and I tried to persuade Secretary of the Treasury William Simon and President Gerald Ford to provide federal loan guarantees to assist our effort to save the City from bankruptcy. (White House photo; DR photo collection)
Tension among the brothers: Laurance, John, Nelson, and I trying to resolve some of the issues that confronted us in the 1970s. The photo was taken before the annual Christmas family dinner at Kykuit in 1976. (DR photo collection)
Kykuit, with the Playhouse in the distance. (Courtesy of the Rockefeller Archive Center)
Rockefeller Center at the time of its sale to Mitsubishi Estate Corporation in 1989. I had resisted the demands of the 1934 Trust Committee to sell this valuable property for almost a decade. (Courtesy of the Rockefeller Archive Center)
My family at the JY Ranch in the Grand Tetons in the summer of 1980. This vacation helped heal the generational wounds of the 1970s. Standing, left to right: Neva, David, Jr., Peggy, Abby, and Eileen. Richard is kneeling. (Photo by Mary Hilliard)
Groundbreaking for the new Museum of Modern Art, May 10, 2001. I am joined by, from left to right, Agnes Gund, Yoshio Taniguchi, Ronald Lauder, Donald Marron, Jerry Speyer, Mayor Rudolph Guiliani, and Glenn Lowry. (Photo by Eric Weis; DR photo collection)
After a century of biomedical research, The Rockefeller University has exceeded the expectations of Grandfather and Father. In June 2002, I sat with four men who epitomize the institution’s scientific excellence: from left to right, Alexander G. Bearn, Maclyn McCarty, former president Frederick Seitz, and former president Joshua Lederberg, a Nobel laureate. (Photo by Karen Smith)
The entire Rockefeller family helps Laurance and me celebrate our ninetieth and eighty-fifth birthdays in 2000. It was a wonderful occasion, made even better by the closer relationship that Laurance and I have developed in recent years. (Photo by Matthew Gillis; DR photo collection)
Peggy and I sailing off the coast of Maine. This is my favorite picture of the two of us. I still miss her terribly. (DR photo collection)
BONING U
P ON CHINA
Once the formal invitation had been extended by the Chinese People’s Institute for Foreign Affairs (PIFA), I set out to learn more about China’s history and its contemporary political and economic situation. We met with experts from the Council on Foreign Relations, who a few years earlier had recommended the adoption of a two-China policy by the American government, and also with two eminent China scholars, John K. Fairbank of Harvard and Michel Oksenberg of Columbia University.
Mike’s three lengthy briefings were invaluable. He stressed that Mao’s greatest accomplishments were the unification of China and the imposition of a stable political order in the 1950s after many years of war and upheaval. The Chinese people revered him for this. But there was a darker side as well. Mao had undermined his own achievements by ruthlessly pursuing radical social and economic change. The “Great Leap Forward” of the late 1950s and the “Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution” that had started in 1966 were the equivalent of a civil war, producing enormous social chaos, widespread economic disruption, and terrible famine. Mike believed that China was then in the midst of a period of transition and that it was impossible to predict what the outcome would be. Mao, while old, ill, and paranoid, was still very much in charge, but a major power struggle over the succession was in process. In Mike’s view, Zhou Enlai represented the principal voice of moderation within the inner circle of the Chinese leadership, and he urged us to see him if at all possible.
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