Finance: Death of a Father

He loved the Washington social whirl, but complained that parties in the capital end too early. “People.” he liked to say, “begin to tell the truth only after midnight.” Per Jacobsson, international monetary expert, spent most of his life trying to get men and nations to face the truth before midnight—the cold, hard truth of fiscal discipline. With a rare talent for understanding politics as well as economics, he was a master of compromise—and a stickler for principle. When France’s franc was faltering, he told the imperious Charles de Gaulle: “Mon général, you spoke about restoring the esteem of France. I do not think there will ever be esteem for a country that has a bad currency.” When he died of a heart attack at 69 in London last week, after seven years as the managing director of the International Monetary Fund. Per Jacobs-son was acknowledged as a chief architect of the postwar world of international finance and mourned as the trusted counselor to troubled treasuries.

A Bit Afraid. A Swede, Jacobsson was one of those rare men (less rare in Sweden than elsewhere) who served no country, but the world. He began his career as an international civil servant in the 1920s with the League of Nations, later became chief of the Monetary and Economics department of the Bank of International Settlements in Basel—a post he resigned in 1956 to take over at I.M.F., then a relatively unimportant institution.

Vigorous and at times flamboyant, Jacobsson built up the I.M.F. almost by force of personality. By persuading two dozen more countries to become members (current membership: 86 nations), he swelled I.M.F.’s bankroll from $9 billion to $21 billion. He bailed Britain and

France out of currency crises with massive loans, persuaded the ten leading industrialized nations to set up a special currency pool to defend their currencies. He was tough in insisting on fiscal discipline, cutting off help to such nations as Turkey and Brazil when they refused to cooperate. His reputation as a conservative enabled him sometimes to espouse unorthodox measures without being accused of seeking change simply for its own sake. Jacobsson always mistrusted liberal economists, even when he found himself agreeing with them. He once said: “I’m a bit afraid of any economist who has not seen the inside of a central bank.”

Poetry for Rest. As much at home in the drawing room as over a row of figures, Jacobsson wrote mystery stories and read Swedish lyric poetry for relaxation. He was able to combine his love of food, wine and traveling as he crisscrossed the world to check I.M.F. activities, and he dined and negotiated with most of the world’s rulers. The seven-room apartment that he shared with his Irish-born wife in Washington was cluttered with photographs of his three daughters (one of whom is married to the first four-minute miler. Roger Bannister) and eleven grandchildren. Behind the fiscal cop was a fond father, a dual role he also played to many of the world’s treasuries.