The Beast From The East.
In the year 2018, even as animal
spirits were running wild on the bourses and the world was approaching the
longest economic expansionary span on record, Europe was buffeted by one storm
after another. With the Brexit hurtling towards an ugly finish, political and
social unrest in France, a resurrecting Italian debt crisis and an EU-wide industrial
production and consumer confidence slump, Europe’s economic engines were sputtering.
Germany, by far Europe’s financial powerhouse, was facing mounting troubles of
its own. Caught in the crossfire of a China-USA trade war and being the
epicentre of a refugee crisis, its own slowing economy was doing it little
favours. Over the course of the year, several German companies egged Angela
Merkel’s government to loosen its purse strings to resuscitate an economy that was on the precipice of a recession. At
the start of 2018, the cold wave dubbed ‘The Beast From The East’ had blanketed
Europe in thick snow and sent both temperatures and consumer spending to new
lows, with Germany being no exception. A few weeks later, the climatic Beast
receded but the country’s troubles were only just beginning to snowball. Unknown
to Germany, one if its largest and most iconic companies would soon be
grappling with its own Beast, one that would shake the organization to its very
core.
The former Communist state of the Czech Republic is known for a thing or
two to the rest of Europe. Glass and ceramic art, beer, castles, spas, Prague,
Karlovy Vary (where a large portion of Casino Royale, the best 007 movie till
date, was shot), Skoda cars (albeit under Volkswagen ownership) and the region
of Bohemia are some of the most instantly recognizable symbols of the
landlocked nation, which doesn’t feature prominently in Europe’s corporate
landscape. After all, not too many Czech companies have made any moves that
have either thrust them into the limelight or kicked up a storm in the larger
scheme of things. All that changed earlier this decade when EPH, a Czech energy
major, made its presence known in European corporate circles when it began
snapping up assets all over Europe. And EPH’s buyout binge was masterminded by
an evil genius.
Daniel Kretinsky. Often known as a ruthless businessman with alleged Russian
links (à la a certain American President who builds walls, bids for Greenland
and makes too much use of a Sharpie), Kretinsky began his career in banking and
then diversified into energy and media when the Czech Republic’s J&T Bank
spun of its power assets, which Kretinsky took control of. Together with Patrik
Tkac, Kretinsky began buying energy assets all over Europe by paying cents on
the euro and taking advantage of the near zero cost financing that European
banks were offering. With most European countries transitioning to renewable
energy, dirty power assets such as coal-fired power plants were on a fire sale
and Kretinsky swooped in, betting that most countries would overshoot their
stated deadlines to take their dirty assets off the grid, providing enough time
to squeeze value from those very assets. When most countries such as Germany
ended up extending their ‘Energiewende’ (energy transition) timelines by as
much as two decades, it was a plan that worked perfectly.
Over the short span of less than a decade, EPH had built up a portfolio
of energy assets all over Europe. But that wasn’t all. Kretinsky’s assets
included the Sparta Prague football club and in a bid to diversify his
holdings, the feared raider entered the media space by buying stakes in the
holding companies behind Le Monde and Elle, two of France’s most popular media
houses and publications. AC Milan and AS Roma too were rumoured targets at one
point in time. But Kretinsky’s hunger for buying assets on the cheap was far from
satiated and with Europe’s economy and business sentiment slowly deteriorating
in late 2018, opportunities were aplenty. And this time around, Kretinsky had
set his sights westward towards Germany and was gunning for one of Europe’s
largest retail chains. His next target was once an acquisitive name in Europe’s
retail ecosystem in its own right and a company that, through a series of
missteps, had managed to upset its own shopping cart.
Perhaps one of the best known global brands that emanated from Germany,
Metro has been a stalwart player in the German retail landscape for several
decades. While Metro had been growing via acquisitions and clocking healthy
growth up until the Eurozone crisis, the subsequent years marked the beginning
of turmoil for the company. For one, Metro’s balance sheet was stretched from
all the debt it had taken on in the yesteryears. It had to sell one of its
prized arms, Galeria Kaufhof, by far the main draw on any German high street. Its
international expansion had burned cash and several of its overseas
subsidiaries were mired in losses. Metro Russia, once one of the fastest
growing arms, was one of the worst hit, bludgeoned by a falling Rouble and
sanctions. Metro’s EUR 7bn hypermarket subsidiary, Real continued to struggle
in the midst of an all-out discounting war in Germany and dragged down its
parent’s margins. And to top it all, Metro itself was barely making money in
its home market of Deutschland.
Germany’s retail market had witnessed an all-out assault by Aldi and
Lidl, two large discount retailers that tailored their stores to cater to
regional product preferences and focused on private label brands (c. 80-90% of
their total sales) with higher margins, vis-à-vis Metro’s largely
undifferentiated approach and a comparatively low share of sales from private
label brands at c. 15%. With its already low single digit margins coming under
further pressure, Metro decided to pivot its business model towards food
service by catering to the Hotels, Restaurants and Cafes (HoReCa) segment and shift away from general traders, a move that would lift the company to a higher
margin profile. The only problem was that the change would take years to start
showing a meaningful effect on the company’s financials. While Metro’s
wholesale and cash and carry operations were seen as the more stable parts of
the business, it did have a large chink in its armour. Metro’s consumer
electronics retail arm had been walloped by Amazon’s entry and the brutal price
war that had engulfed the German consumer electronics market.
With its consumer electronics division being little more than dead
weight, Metro decided to demerge itself into two entities – one that would
focus on the wholesale and cash and carry operations and the other that would
house its consumer electronics business. The former would be able to grow
independently and pivot its business model towards food service while the
latter would first consolidate and stabilize its operations and later return to
a steady growth path. The demerger, after all, would simplify and reduce the
conglomerate holding structure of Metro and enable shareholders to have
holdings in both companies and subsequently choose which business model they
wanted to invest in. Demergers, at the end of the day, are seen favourably by
the markets and create value for companies and their shareholders. Or so sayeth
the investment banker.
In June 2017, Metro spun off its consumer electronics arm (Ceconomy,
housing the Media Markt and Saturn electronic store chains) and rechristened
itself Metro Wholesale Food Service (MWFS). While the markets initially cheered
the demerger, all hell soon broke loose. A series of disappointing quarterly
results and profit warnings from both companies ignited a race to the bottom.
Both the Ceconomy and Metro scrips were heading towards Davy Jones’ locker and
numerous announcements from both managements on business strategies and the small
steps made towards them did little to allay the market’s fears. While Ceconomy,
with its top level management exits and successive profit warnings, had been
virtually written off as a basket case by the markets, Metro wasn’t about to be
let off the hook easily. Its valuations were far lower than any food service
player globally and even its European retail peers and with its share price
dipping below EUR 10 (down from a EUR 18 debut at the demerger), its market capitalization had already sunk below the value of its real estate holdings. Investor interest
in Metro had reached a nadir but in the midst of the carnage, Metro had caught
the eye of an acquisitive Czech billionaire just east of the German border.
Metro’s management, widely perceived by the investor community as reluctant
to engage in any meaningful action, slowly awakened to the fire that was
raging. Metro slammed the brakes on its international expansion and began selling
and leasing back some stores to free up cash. Real was put on the block and
names of several suitors, ranging from local rivals to Amazon, began doing the
rounds. The press reported rumours of a retreat from several countries. But despite
all the headwinds, Metro still had a lot going for it. It had a network of over
770 stores, some of which were prime real estate. Its transition to food
service was slowly materializing and it had a loyal army of traders and HoReCa
members globally. If the company could indeed ride out the storm, it was an
attractive asset to board. When the Metro management tried to convince the
markets of a recovery, the naysayers outnumbered the believers. With the
markets undervaluing Metro and discounting its uncertain future, Kretinsky
decided to move in for the kill.
In August 2018, post another disappointing earnings release from Metro,
EPGC (Kretinsky’s acquisition vehicle in which he owned 53%, with Tkac holding
the remaining 47%) announced that it had acquired a 17% stake in the company
and had call options to buy another 15%, taking its total stake well over 30%,
when it chose to exercise the options. This, in turn, would trigger the
requirement for an open offer to Metro’s shareholders. The Haniel founding
family of Metro, which had held on to the shares for generations (via the
holding company Haniel) and had supported the company’s every move over the
years, had now decided to tender some of their shares to Kretinsky and cash out
at the bottom, a clear indication of the frustration with the direction that
the company had taken under its new management. Ceconomy, which held a 10%
stake in Metro, too had offloaded 9% to Kretinsky in a desperate move to raise
liquidity post its own troubles of profit warnings, store closures and sales
that trailed expectations in the months leading up to the FIFA World Cup. With
EPGC already controlling a large chunk of Metro shares, the markets expected
the Czech raider to make a bigger move. The Metro scrip crept higher, waiting
for EPGC to strike. Kretinsky’s first salvo, by directly approaching the family
foundations and Ceconomy for their stakes, may have been nothing less than a
masterstroke but his assault on Metro was far from over.
With a rumoured EPGC bid on the horizon, Metro’s management tried to win
the market’s sympathy with successive outreaches and releases about the
company’s move towards becoming a food retailer, selling Real, turning around
its underperforming arms and repeated reassurances that it was saying its prayers
and eating its vitamins every night. Metro’s biggest redemptive move was its planned
sale of Real. The sale had attracted interest, although at a valuation of c.
EUR 500mn, which was far less than the EUR 800-900mn number that had first been
touted. For months on end, Kretinsky kept the markets waiting for his
inevitable takeover bid, which finally came in 2019. EPGC launched a EUR16/share
bid (a EUR 5.8bn offer in total) for Metro, declaring that the offer was void
if it failed to cross a 67.5% shareholding at the end of the offer period. Not
too far away was the coveted 75% DPLTA (domination and profit and loss
transfer agreement) threshold, which under German takeover laws, would enable EPGC to take complete control over the direction and cash flows of
Metro.
Kretinsky’s offer though was far lower than what the markets had been
expecting. While the bid had been delayed, Metro’s share price was already
north of EUR14/share and the offer provided little incentive to tender. The
family foundations (Meridian Stiftung and Beisheim) did not tender their remaining
shares and EPGC only garnered a 41% stake, as against the 67.5% target. The
offer turned out to be null and void, taking EPGC back to its 32%, which
nevertheless ensured that it was still the largest shareholder. Kretinsky ruled
out a revised or follow-up offer for the time being, stating that his EUR16/share offer
was fair. The markets, however, thought otherwise and had given EPGC the cold
shoulder. Metro’s management wasted no time in taking credit for the outcome, declaring
that the markets had understood the true worth of the company by turning down
the unattractive bid and that Metro’s transformation was gaining steam and
would revolutionize the retailer. But Metro’s management may indeed be writing
cheques that it may not be able to cash.
While Kretinsky may have retreated in the near term, the Metro saga
seems to be far from over. Metro’s turnaround is progressing but gains from
real estate sales are repeatedly being used to pad its quarterly results and
the company’s organic growth is weak with operating profitability continuing to
be under pressure. With a stake of 32%, EPGC is currently the largest
shareholder in the company and is vying for a board seat. The family
foundations of Meridian Stiftung and Beisheim still control c. 20% of Metro and
if Metro’s performance worsens, they may follow Haniel to the exit and sell out
to Kretinsky. While Kretinsky may have built a power and energy conglomerate as
well as a media conglomerate of sorts across Europe by buying different assets,
he seems to be replicating the strategy in retail by picking up stressed assets.
EPGC recently picked up a c. 5% stake in Casino, a large French retailer which,
along the same lines as Metro, is struggling and is selling assets to pare down
debt. Europe’s retail sector outlook is turning increasingly bleak, with store
closures and wage costs on the rise and valuations on a slow but sure descent.
With both Europe’s economy and the retail sector likely to head further
south for the impending global economic winter, Metro may soon find itself
trapped in a quicksand of a slowing retail environment, deteriorating results
and a weakening stock price. With the stars aligning in his favour, Kretinsky
may train his sights on Metro with another bid in the near future to gain the
elusive control of the company. If… no, not if… when that happens, the once-iconic
German retailer is likely to fall into the hands of the unrelenting Czech
raider and the walls of Metro’s defence will come crumbling to the ground.
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