[ CHAPTER 3 ]
Who’s Afraid of the Molotov Cocktail?
THREE BLOCKS west of the White House stands the IMF’s headquarters, a beige limestone building thirteen stories high. On a typical workday, 2,600 employees—roughly one-quarter American, the rest from 141 other nations—pass through the electronic security apparatus, swiping their ID cards as they enter a sunlit lobby to cross a polished marble floor on their way to their offices. Another 117 work in field offices abroad. They hold the status of elite international civil servants and embody one of the most disciplined bureaucracies in the world.
Founded in 1944 at an international conference in New Hampshire, the IMF is like a giant credit union for countries. Its member nations contribute funds ...