Note: This is Part 5 in a series of articles and cases on Asian Conglomerates. Read Part 4 here. You may read more about the Asian Conglomerate Series here, or view all the published cases here.
In the previous instalment, we talked about how to think about corruption in the context of Asian tycoons.
One angle that is useful to consider is: how do investors in the region deal with such shenanigans? If the vast majority of investible companies in the region are controlled by tycoons, and the vast majority of governments in the region are administrations with weak institutions — how have investors fared when going up against the realities of corruption and weak rule of law in Asian businesses?
This question is worth asking because it gives us some insight into the nature of Asian conglomerates when they tap various local capital markets.
The answer is ... well. If you assume outcomes similar to the experiences of American investors in the US equity markets in the late 1800s, then you wouldn’t be too far off: investors don’t deal with this particularly well.
Unfortunately, there aren’t many publicly-available sources on this topic — and certainly not by believable individuals with a long track record in Asian markets. The most interesting stories tend to be between fund managers at private investor dinners. In 2022, though, Richard Lawrence published The Model — a book that discusses his experiences investing in Asia for a 30 year period.
Lawrence is at the tail-end of his career now. The Model gives us an example of what successful activism in this region can look like. We trace the arc of his life in the case below — and use it as a lens to understand the businesses he has to invest in.
Overlook Investments’s Shareholder Activism
Richard H. Lawrence, Jr. is the founder of a fund named Overlook Investments, started in 1991, and based out of Hong Kong. Operating for over 32 years, Overlook has accumulated over $6 billion in assets under management. They’ve generated around 14% capital-weighted annual returns during a three decade period by following a value-oriented investment strategy.
Lawrence grew up outside New York City and moved to Hong Kong in 1985. He was a brash young man at the time, trained in the aggressive culture of 80s-era Wall Street. Over the course of his career, Lawrence learnt to do a very interesting thing: he — and by extension, his firm, Overlook — learnt to do activist investing in Asia. This is what that journey looked like.
Lawrence began his career in 1978 as an analyst for Organización Diego Cisneros, a conglomerate based in Venezuela; he was a Brown University graduate with a degree in Economics. He moved to New York in 1981 to be the Vice President at J. Bush & Company, Inc., a NYSE member firm.
He then found himself in Hong Kong in 1985. There, he joined First Pacific, an investment management and holding company as the Vice President. This was a time when the region had become — in his words — “the entrepreneur’s hangout”. The UK and China had just signed the Sino-British Joint Declaration setting out conditions in which Hong Kong would be transferred to the Chinese after July, 1997. It guaranteed Hong Kong’s capitalist system post-handover to China, which initially boosted market confidence, as evidenced by a significant rise in the Hang Seng Index immediately following the announcement.
Lawrence’s first experience with shareholder activism in Asia was at First Pacific. He was working on an investment in a Hong Kong company, Tian Teck Land. Tian Teck owned the Hyatt Hotel in Tsim Sha Tsui. It was a popular tourist and business hotel at a prime location. What could go wrong? From a whistleblower, Lawrence learnt of irregularities in the company’s operations, including handling of the Hyatt renovation. These were serious accusations of practices that were unfair to minority shareholders, which bordered on being criminal. Lawrence approached the board of directors to resolve this privately or — if they were unwilling, Lawrence warned that First Pacific would call for an Extraordinary General Meeting of Shareholders. The company didn’t care; they said to go ahead. Decades later, in his 2022 book The Model, Lawrence describes what happened next:
We scheduled the EGM.
Tian Teck was owned 50.01% by the Cheong family, which left the owners in absolute control, unaccountable to shareholders. They could not be voted off the Board by minority shareholders, nor could shareholders directly influence any company practices. The EGM would likely only be a forum for discomfiting public questioning and complaint.
Then came a warning. On the night before the EGM, my wife and I returned home to find our apartment ransacked. Nothing had been taken; it was just ransacked…
Lessons Learned
50.01% ownership permits owners to be unaccountable.
Maybe they play by different rules in Asia.
Better locks for my apartment.
Lawrence founded Overlook Investments Group in 1991. The aim was to create an independent fund to tap into Asian markets, excluding Japan. Things were good for a few years. And then the Asian Financial Crisis hit.
Surviving the Asian Financial Crisis
Lawrence’s big challenge was to stay afloat during the years of 1997 through to 1999. The Asian financial crisis started innocuously. In 1997, the Thai government was forced to float the Baht due to dwindling foreign reserves, resulting in a dramatic devaluation of the currency. This triggered investors to pull money out of Thailand first, but then also, quickly, throughout the region. Foreign capital fled Indonesia, South Korea, and Malaysia. In 1997, the Thai government announced that it would close 56 insolvent finance companies as part of the IMF’s economic restructuring plan.
By the end of 1998, some countries saw their GDPs shrink by double digits, with Indonesia's nominal GDP per capita dropping by approximately 43.2% and Thailand's by 21.2%. Asian stocks plunged, and US dollar-denominated portfolios hit rock bottom. 30,000 white-collar workers lost their jobs. In Indonesia, the crisis eventually triggered widespread riots and led to the resignation of President Suharto.
Lawrence was indirectly exposed to the Indonesian riots. Overlook had an investment in a subsidiary of Heineken, named Multi Bintang. Anyone who has been to Indonesia knows Multi Bintang — Bintang Beer is the Corona of the country. Like many tourists, Lawrence came across it whilst on vacation in Bali. Overlook was confident in the stock as it held over 80% of Indonesia’s beer market. The main attraction was Heineken's savvy management, strong balance sheet and low per-capita consumption of beer in Indonesia at the time.
Bintang beer by the beach, (by Crisco 1492 CC BY-SA 3.0, Source)
At the time of the crisis, Lawrence decided to fly down to Indonesia to visit Overlook’s portfolio companies. At the Hilton in Jakarta, he saw a group of people standing over automatic rifles and handguns that were laid out on the floor of a hotel patio. Lawrence was shaken, not expecting armed people casually planning their next attack at a five-star hotel. Shortly afterwards, riots broke out and Multi Bintang’s facilities were trashed and looted. Luckily no one was hurt. The company eventually recovered and continued to grow over the years. Overlook sold their shares after nearly two decades, earning solid returns throughout.
Another story did not turn out so well. Overlook invested in BBL Dharmala, a company providing purchase financing for heavy equipment, commercial vehicles, and passenger cars. Despite strong fundamentals, including a 6.9% net interest spread and 33% capital growth in the early 1990s and seemingly prudent USD debt hedging, the company's controlling family secretly transferred the US dollar hedges to their holding company during the crisis to protect their personal interests. There was little recourse under Indonesian law. BBL Dharmala collapsed into bankruptcy, forcing Overlook to sell its shares in the company for pennies on the dollar. Remarkably, no executives ever faced criminal charges.
By March 1998, Thai Reinsurance, the leading reinsurance company in Thailand, had become the largest holding in Overlook’s portfolio. The credit for ThaiRe’s stellar track record belonged to its CEO, Khun Surachai. This one was a good relationship. Years after the Asian Crisis, Lawrence admitted to Surachai that if ThaiRe had reported a down quarter in 1997/98, he would have thrown in the towel and taken a job flipping burgers at McDonald’s in America. Surachai replied: “If that had happened, I would be right next to you making the French fries!”.
Surachai’s leadership was the reason his company stayed in Overlook’s portfolio for 22 years.
Overlook was not out of the woods yet. In June 1998, their portfolio was down by 60%. Overlook’s soul was about to leave its body when an existing investor, the legendary David Swensen, then-CIO of the Yale Investment Office, called for a meeting. Swensen and his deputy Dean Takahashi flew into Hong Kong. A nervous Lawrence met them, expecting to be grilled:
For our meeting I had prepared a detailed list of what I saw as the risks of investing in Asia after nearly a year of this voracious bear market. I went through one risk after another, explaining how Overlook was managing the portfolio for each one. After about 20 or 25 minutes, David turned to Dean and said, “Dean, have you heard enough?” “Yes.” I raised my hand, held up my index finger and said, “But I’m not finished yet.” If Yale was going to redeem, well, I at least wanted to have my full say.
Politely, my guests allowed me to continue. When I ran out of gas, David said, “Thank you, Richard, very interesting, but actually we came here today to let you know that we’d like to put another $30 million into Overlook.
Yale’s additional investment arrived in September. For the first time in 11 months, I knew that I could pay the kids’ education bills and that Overlook would survive.
Overlook managed to survive the Asian Financial Crisis by the skin of their teeth.
Lawrence’s unique style of activism
In the period after the Asian Financial Crisis, Lawrence began to develop stronger views around corporate governance and capital management in Asia. It began to be painfully clear to him that investment returns in Asian companies would be impaired so long as the management of such companies did not pay attention to either domain.
However, activism on either topic was not taken kindly by companies in the 1990s. Overlook’s efforts to fight for the rights of its clients were often resisted, dismissed or laughed at. Back then, Asian businesses played by their own rules. Laws in Asia were not developed enough to protect minority shareholders. Overlook more often than not felt like outsiders looking in — with no real say and zero protection. Companies operated in a Wild West (or Wild East?) of corporate governance, where the powerful called all the shots and small investors had no say.
Lawrence wasn’t alone in these observations. After the Asian Financial Crisis, the World Bank commissioned a group of economists and researchers at the Chinese University of Hong Kong to review ownership data on more than 2,500 Asian public companies — covering Japan, South Korea, and South East Asia, but excluding China. The work gave rise to a series of academic papers, published in different journals. The most notable was called Dividends and Expropriation, published in the American Economic Review.
In his 2007 book Asian Godfathers, Joe Studwell cites the work, writing (all bold emphasis added):
The researchers concluded that the eight largest conglomerates in the region exercise effective control over a quarter of all listed companies, while the top twenty-two conglomerates control one-third of listed vehicles. The identify of the top eight conglomerates was not made public at the time, but can be revealed here: six of the eight were big Japanese industrial conglomerates (or keiretsu) — as would be expected given Japan’s industrial cross-holding tradition — and two were South East Asian. These last two were the groups of Li Ka-shing and Malaysia's Sime Darby, the latter connected with several powerful overseas Chinese families, as well as the Malaysian government. Each of the eight groups was determined by researchers to have more than twenty affiliate listed companies at the level of 10-20 per cent ownership, in addition to their more transparent public subsidiaries. The main aim of the researchers was to analyse the structure of the relationships in the conglomerate webs in order to understand how they work. What they discovered, again and again, is that control is exercised through pyramid arrangements that deliver levels of control disproportionate to equity ownership. For example, a company at the apex of a conglomerate pyramid (there may be several different pyramids within the overall corporate web) might own 50 per cent of listed company X, which in turn owns 40 per cent of listed company Y, which in turn owns 30 per cent of listed company Z. As a result, the conglomerate has 6 per cent ownership rights in company Z, but it still has 30 per cent voting rights – enough to call the shots. The researchers used analysis of dividend payouts, which have to be given to all investors equally, to prove that minority investors are systematically expropriated at the bottom of pyramids. This usually occurs at a level of 10-20 per cent ownership where a conglomerate’s stockholding is not widely noted but where it can still exercise control. The principals of the research project wrote a seminal paper for the American Economic Review in which their assertions were, by academic standards, bold: ‘We document,’ they stated, ‘that the problems of East Asian corporate governance are, if anything, more severe and intractable than suggested by commentators at the height of the financial crisis.’ The authors concluded: ‘The concentration of expropriation within a few groups large enough to manipulate a nation’s political system means that the critical issue is the political will to enforce laws and regulations on the books.’
This was the playing field that Lawrence was faced with.
Eventually, Lawrence realised that ‘shareholder activism’ had negative connotations, and ‘corporate governance’ had a preachy ring to it. He rebranded the two elements under the term ‘Modern Finance Technology’, or ‘MFT’. The bizarre thing was that it worked. When approached with MFT, several Asian CEOs were willing to listen and eventually ready to make some real changes.
The road to MFT wasn’t a straight one. Lawrence tried and failed multiple times, right through the Asian Crisis, before finally arriving at a sophisticated, more clandestine version of shareholder activism, adapted for Asian sensibilities.
In The Model, Lawrence tells the story of two failed attempts at corporate governance on his way to MFT.
In 1995, Overlook led a group of minority investors in Fountain Set, to make sure the company's privatisation deal was fair and square—protecting their investment and demanding transparency. Overlook spent considerable time objecting to the proposed buyout of the company’s minority shareholders at an undervalued price. After tedious discussions with the directors, they agreed to manage the company as a partnership with the investors, boost per-share value and improve transparency to build investor confidence. Overlook went to the lengths of securing support from large fund management houses in Hong Kong and used the limited securities laws to bolster their position.
What felt like a triumph soon collapsed like a house of cards. The directors reneged on their promises. With no recourse, Overlook eventually sold after a miserable six-year holding period. The only consolation is that in 2021, Fountain Set’s stock was lower than where it was in 1995.
The chaebol system in Korea was another dragon that needed taming. Chaebols are large family owned companies that enjoy monopoly and subsidised financing by the government. Overlook had invested in Taekwang Industrial, a synthetic fiber producer in South Korea. During and after the Asian Crisis, Overlook spent considerable time discussing corporate governance with the then-CEO, Ho-jin Lee and his team. To stop the share price from languishing, they called for greater transparency of financial statements, moderation of policies understating true earnings and payment of dividends.
By 2000, Overlook saw no improvement. Then, Ho-jin Lee crossed a line. He undertook an unfair related-party transaction. Overlook hired a shareholder rights lawyer and proposed a shareholder resolution in 2001 to elect the lawyer as an “outside auditor” to ensure accountability towards shareholders. When it was time to vote, the largest internationally managed Korean fund voted against the minority. Lawrence now finds solace in the fact that Ho-jin Lee was convicted of fraud against the company.
Lawrence was no stranger to the perception created by his activism. He was aware that he was the corporate troubleshooter that nobody wanted, but that companies needed. He aimed to spot problems before they exploded and fought for fair solutions for shareholders. He thought of himself as part of the immune system of corporate governance: tough, persistent, and laser-focused on long-term health.
Keeping this outlook in mind, in his book, Lawrence defined MFT as:
“The provision of conflict-free and private (emphasis added) advice to owners and CEOs from the perspective of a long-term shareholder on capital management and corporate governance to enhance the long-term value of the corporation. We help build better public companies.”
Lawrence’s new light-handed approach to activism through MFT started to bear fruit, if slowly. Overlook saw the potential in Chroma ATE, a Taiwan-based company manufacturing test and measurement equipment. Chroma’s problem was their reluctance to divest their non-core operations. They didn’t take Overlook’s advice and Overlook sold at a loss. A few years later, in 2004, when their stock was at an all-time low, the co-founder came back to Lawrence, seeking MFT. He agreed to sell non-core businesses, reduce the number of free shares given to employees, buy back shares, pay dividends, and stop minority investment in unlisted high-tech companies. Chroma ATE’s shares saw a rapid rise and sat at a multi-decade high in 2021.
Another victory for Overlook was its investment in CP All, a company that owned the world’s fourth-largest 7-Eleven chain in Thailand. The red flag here was its stake in Lotus Supercenter, a hypermarket in China. Most investors were put off by the Lotus business, which meant Overlook acquired CP All’s shares at an undervalued price.
Overlook developed a relationship with the management and advised that if the Lotus stake was spun off, investors would benefit from the company’s rise in share price. Overlook laid the foundation for CP Group’s transformation. They spent a good amount of their own resources on research, in order to present a practical roadmap for CP’s cross-border deal. The key? Winning over CP Group’s leadership, especially Chairman Dhanin Chearavanont, who dug deep into Overlook’s plan. The company’s investors enjoyed the fruits of Overlook’s work as the share price rose by 61%.
Regionally, other actors were taking small steps to improve corporate governance. In the late 1990s and the early 2000s, there was an attempt by Hong Kong and Singaporean investors to organise a bottoms-up lobby to protect minority shareholders.
The attempt in Hong Kong was led by David Webb, a former investment banker and then an-employee of Hong Kong tycoon Peter Woo. Webb founded the Hong Kong Association of Minority Shareholders (HAMS), which proposed that it became a properly resourced watchdog — funding provided by a 0.005% levy on stock market transactions. HAMS’s proposal was shot down by the Hong Kong government in 2002. Nevertheless, Webb was elected a non-executive director of Hong Kong Exchange and Clearing (the company that operates the Hong Kong stock market) as well as a member of the Takeovers and Mergers Panel. For a number of years he led campaigns for a range of reforms, built a database of cases of minority investor abuse, and managed to block some low-ball privatisation offers by tycoons like Robert Kuok, Lee Shau-kee, and Cheng Yu-tung. When interviewed by Joe Studwell, Webb said: “It is feasible to achieve change here. I don’t get physically threatened in Hong Kong whereas I wouldn’t have tried this in Jakarta or Manila.” Webb’s work, ultimately, did not last — in 2021, the South China Morning Post reported that the stock exchange was planning to require new listings to issue a risk disclaimer, “warning investors that they have scant opportunity to pursue legal action in the city.”
The Singaporean attempt at a retail shareholder group was more successful. According to the same 2021 SCMP report, the Securities Investors Association in Singapore “regularly unites minority investors in punchy campaigns against errant firms. It has a mix of wins and losses but can be a force to reckon with and recently acquired government funding.” The article argued that Singapore had done better, overall, on corporate governance issues; in 2024, a book was published about the group’s successful history.
Overlook had no time to wait for such ecosystem changes to work, though — it had a fiduciary duty it had to fulfil.
Asia’s finest public company
Overlook’s story is incomplete without, as Lawrence calls it, Asia’s finest public company—Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company (TSMC). TSMC was and still remains the world’s largest semiconductor foundry.
What made it Asia’s finest company? TSMC’s business model and strategy was extremely coherent, and unlike any other competitor in their market. Unlike Intel and Samsung, TSMC focused solely on manufacturing. This let companies that designed integrated circuits share their confidential designs and intellectual property with TSMC without fear that TSMC would appropriate their designs or compete with them. By ensuring trust, TSMC helped its customers refine their designs, improve quality, reduce costs, and accelerate innovation. It also became the scale player in an extremely competitive, extremely capital intensive industry.
TSMC’s founder, Dr. Morris Chang, was in fact the first to pioneer this approach 30 years ago. His goal was to provide top-tier semiconductor manufacturing to companies that couldn't afford their own fabs. Over time, TSMC became the top manufacturer for leading-edge semiconductor manufacturing. Its scale advantage meant that its lead was unassailable for the vast majority of its competition.
When Lawrence expressed concerns over the corporate governance of TSMC, he didn’t expect anything more than a canned response. Dr. Chang reacted by calling Lawrence directly. They engaged for months over TSMC’s policies like their cash dividend policy and their history of favouring buybacks over dividends. Soon after, TSMC called an EGM and removed the clause limiting cash dividends from their articles of association.
Lawrence points out that it was Overlook’s unique position of being informed, engaged and a long-term shareholder that moved the needle. The trust Overlook built changed the direction of TSMC. To give due credit, Dr. Chang and his team were perceptive enough to recognise and act on the concerns of minority shareholders. This resulted in the payment of the largest cash dividend in the history of Taiwan in 2005.
In The Model, Lawrence reflected on why MFT worked. When he first started, in the 80s, as a young man, Asian companies were not open to arguments about corporate governance or capital allocation. This persisted until he figured out the following playbook (all emphasis added):
There are, however, a few rules Overlook must respect:
Overlook must establish a relationship of trust with the company in advance of providing MFT advice. This takes time.
Corporate executives must have confidence that our discussions will remain private and confidential.
Overlook waits at least a year after meeting a company to make MFT recommendations. Management has to understand we are not short-term investors pursuing short-term gains.
We must approach management only after proper and thorough consideration has been given to all issues.
Management must feel that our MFT advice is free of conflicts of interest, which cannot always be said about recommendations from mid-level executives, family members, brokers, or particularly investment bankers.
We must meet one-on-one, face to face. Two people in the room can lead to success. Ten people in the room will lead to nothing.
We rely only on Overlook, not on outsiders or other minority shareholders, to provide MFT advice.
The 1997 Asian Financial Crisis changed everything. Several public companies began to see the value in Overlook’s advice. Good corporate governance went from a nice-to-have to a must-have, with real financial impact. Willing CEOs discovered that Overlook provided something rare in Asia: conflict-free advice that served their interests. Overlook’s approach — watch first, listen carefully, speak privately — resonated because it was uniquely adapted to Asian sensibilities.
They became the voice of minority shareholders that CEOs actually wanted to hear.
Wrapping Up
The Model is ostensibly about Overlook’s value investing style, as applied to Asia. We’re using it as a source for a different reason, however: we are not so interested in Lawrence’s investing technique as with what his activism tells us about Asian conglomerates in general.
In last week’s instalment, I wrote:
The important thing to notice is that business under such conditions isn’t just a game of better operations, good knowledge of markets, or savvy access to capital. The game that these businesspeople are playing are distorted, somewhat, by the role of government in all three legs of the business expertise triad. It means that one skill, present with all of these tycoons, is in reading the nature of power well, and in building alliances with the right groups. This doesn’t mean that government power plays no role in clean, Western business. Only that the role it plays in many developing countries is outsized.
One aspect that we haven’t discussed as much is the nature of tycoon involvement in capital markets. It’s easier to understand how tycoons can — with the help of pliable governments — control access to end markets, or gatekeep production. It is also relatively easy to understand how tycoons might finagle government financing for themselves. But wackier things occur when tycoons parlay their influence over government into setting up banks or playing in young capital markets.
This is the first time we’re touching on the nature of Asian conglomerates with regard to Eastern capital markets. The key bit I want to draw your attention to is the following excerpt, from Mara Faccio, Larry Lang, and Leslie Young’s 2001 report Dividends and Expropriation (all emphasis added):
The main aim of the researchers was to analyse the structure of the relationships in the conglomerate webs in order to understand how they work. What they discovered, again and again, is that control is exercised through pyramid arrangements that deliver levels of control disproportionate to equity ownership. For example, a company at the apex of a conglomerate pyramid (there may be several different pyramids within the overall corporate web) might own 50 per cent of listed company X, which in turn owns 40 per cent of listed company Y, which in turn owns 30 per cent of listed company Z. As a result, the conglomerate has 6 per cent ownership rights in company Z, but it still has 30 per cent voting rights – enough to call the shots. The researchers used analysis of dividend payouts, which have to be given to all investors equally, to prove that minority investors are systematically expropriated at the bottom of pyramids. This usually occurs at a level of 10-20 per cent ownership where a conglomerate’s stockholding is not widely noted but where it can still exercise control. The principals of the research project wrote a seminal paper for the American Economic Review in which their assertions were, by academic standards, bold: ‘We document,’ they stated, ‘that the problems of East Asian corporate governance are, if anything, more severe and intractable than suggested by commentators at the height of the financial crisis.’ The authors concluded: ‘The concentration of expropriation within a few groups large enough to manipulate a nation’s political system means that the critical issue is the political will to enforce laws and regulations on the books.’
It is useful to understand how such structures work. Such control structures are not unknown in the West — the luxury conglomerate LVMH, for instance, was initially constructed through a similar scheme, with the help of legendary banker Antoine Bernheim from Lazard Frères. I’m not saying that one copied the other. I’m asserting that such structures are the natural consequence of company law, given a tendency towards conglomeration and a desire for total control.
We’ve actually already encountered one such structure in this series, if only in passing — the Samsung ‘group’ is in reality less a conglomerate than a complicated collection of cross holdings. The Lee family holds multiple holding companies, each of which own relatively little of the Samsung subsidiaries — but just enough to maintain control. We will do a case on this soon, just as we’ll be seeing more of these structures. We are introducing this concept now because I want you to watch out for them.
Let us recap.
At this point in the series we’ve mostly been sowing seeds and asking questions:
- We introduced two Asian tycoons — Stanley Ho and B.C. Lee, and asked you to look out for surprising similarities and surprising dissimilarities from their lives. This helps you with accelerating your own business pattern recognition.
- We argued that it’s worthwhile to study Asian Tycoons because: first, they represent a different path to building business empire; second, it is useful to study how such businesses work, because they reveal something about the nature of business in their specific ecosystems.
- We then talked about how to think about corruption in the context of Asian tycoons, and asserted that it is possible to reason about tycoon skill even when corruption is present. It turns out that we already have the vocabulary for such evaluation: there is a reason we introduced the Power in Business series at the end of last year, before the start of this series. We also asked if it was possible to have principles or to do business without corruption, given the state of play of such markets.
- Finally, we gave you a taste of what tycoon involvement in capital markets looks like, from the perspective of an activist investor. We did this because it is important to look out for capital market and capital structure patterns in many of the upcoming cases.
In the next instalment, we shift our attention to India. And then we’ll start giving you answers instead of just questions. It turns out that there is a core pattern to every tycoon we have examined and will examine. And perhaps that core pattern tells us something universal about business in the large, over the long term, over the arc of a full life.
This is Part 5 of The Asian Conglomerate Series.
Originally published , last updated .
This article is part of the Capital topic cluster, which belongs to the Business Expertise Triad. Read more from this topic here→
