Syria needs to rediscover its financial heritage to revive growth and reclaim the role long played by Lebanese banks. Can President Assad risk relaxing his grip to permit reform? One of the worst-kept secrets in the Syrian Arab Republic is tucked inside a squat concrete office building on an obscure, pothole-ridden street off Harika Square in Old Damascus, the heart of the oldest city on Earth. Up a few flights of well-worn stairs is the office of Yassar Sahloul & Sons Co., Syria's largest money changer. Female receptionists in pantsuits and head scarves greet visitors, and stewards offer cardamom-scented coffee from silver trays. The din of automatic bill-counters riffling through stacks of bank-notes resounds through the lobby and the wood-paneled corridors while clerks rush about in search of signatures and stamps. In an economy clogged by decades of foreign exchange controls and state ownership, Sahloul & Sons and its smaller competitors are the main arteries of capital to and from the outside world. They operate on the margins of legality - technically, Syrian law imposes tight restrictions on who may buy dollars or other foreign currencies, and for what purposes. Still, the money changers are tolerated by the government for one compelling reason: Without them, the economy would implode.
展开▼
