In 1998 and 1999, a serious financial crisis shocked Ecuadorians. Over the course of two years, more than a dozen banks failed, including the country\u2019s largest, and a series of bailouts left more than half of Ecuador\u2019s financial system in the hands of the central government deposit insurance agency, created in the midst of the crisis. After a surprise bank holiday and the freezing of savings accounts; escalating inflation and devaluation of Ecuador\u2019s currency, the sucre; sharp increases in impoverishment and political instability; and the near-paralysis of the economy, government officials decided\u2014controversially, apparently as a last resort, and with little (if any) outside consultation\u2014to abandon the sucre and officially adopt the US dollar as Ecuador\u2019s national currency.<\/p>\n
Remnants of bank failures and financial crisis persist, often materially, in Quito. Traces of failed banks\u2014such as Banco Popular, which showed signs of collapse in 1998 and was eventually bailed out by the Ecuadorian government\u2014remain, even on the walls outside former branches. Certain buildings also recall the crisis. The headquarters of the largest bank in Ecuador before the crisis, Filanbanco, remains a famous sight at the entrance to Quito\u2019s historical downtown. The building\u2014known popularly as La Licuadora (The Blender)\u2014was constructed in 1970 directly across from Ecuador\u2019s Central Bank and symbolized at that time urban modernity and the rise of private-sector commercial and investment banking. During the financial crisis in 1998-99, Filanbanco required government assistance to continue operating; the bank permanently closed in 2001, and today, although La Licuadora lies vacant, the building remains as a visible presence, and reminder.<\/p>\n
Thus, while dollarization seen through a macroeconomic lens has provided a measure of monetary stability and remains popular among the majority of Ecuadorians, the crisis and the subsequent government response has had lingering social effects\u2014in particular, a sometimes rancorous lack of trust in banks, bankers, and those in government charged with regulating them. Indeed, one of the most powerful discourses still circulating about the crisis is the transparent criminality (according to many) of pre-crisis banking practices\u2014including so-called cr\u00e9ditos vinculados<\/em>, lending by banks to companies within the same corporate family (or to the actual family members of bank officials)\u2014and of the collusion between government officials and bank owners, especially in negotiating bailout funds and in preparing for the currency regime change. Despite government guarantees, some depositors claim that they have still not been reimbursed for savings lost when their banks failed, and the former owners of both the Banco Popular and Filanbanco have had lawsuits brought against them for mismanagement of depositors\u2019 savings and state funds.<\/p>\n In the United States and Europe, critical engagement with finance, and with debt more generally, has become de rigueur <\/em>not only among social scientists, but in popular discourse as well\u2014on television, around dinner tables, and while protesting in the streets. And yet, almost a decade before the recent international financial crisis, Ecuadorians (and not only Ecuadorians) had begun to question banking. Many turned to savings and credit cooperatives and to everyday familial or neighborhood financial organizations to protect their savings, or they found other ways to store value\u2014in real estate, for instance, or in automobiles and appliances. The turn to the so-called \u201csolidary economy\u201d (often referred to as the \u201csocial and solidary economy\u201d or \u201cpopular and solidary economy\u201d) reflects in Ecuador and elsewhere a desire not only for an alternative to models of neoliberal capitalism, but also for \u201csolidity\u201d\u2014and in particular, the solidity provided by social interconnection and the trust that connection generates.<\/p>\n And yet, twelve years after the crisis and dollarization, the formal financial sector in Ecuador has in many ways rebounded, especially in urban areas like Quito and especially among the middle and upper class. Doubts remain\u2014for instance, among the middle-aged and elderly\u2014but it is no longer uncommon to have a savings account, to use a bank account for business, or to search out financing from banks. (Indeed, the widespread availability of consumer credit\u2014that is, payment plans or credit cards offered either by retail outlets in partnership with banks or directly by banks or card companies themselves\u2014has sparked a national debate over the past six months about the dangers of personal over-indebtedness.)<\/p>\n How do banks and other financial institutions \u201csell\u201d finance to Ecuadorians, whose collective memory of bank failures, lost savings, and monetary instability continues to shape their perceptions of finance, even as the immediacy of the experience of crisis fades? Such experiences are not unique to Ecuador; indeed, it is remarkable that banks around the world, from Argentina to Japan, continue to attract new customers, and maintain old customers, despite spectacular and repeated failures. (Of course, it is also important to note the work of the state in making it possible for banks to continue to operate in and after such \u201ccrises,” in particular via large transfers of public wealth.) In the photos in the gallery above, I examine the discourses of large-scale advertisements that market finance to urban Ecuadorians. I consider bank billboards, one of the most common sights in and around Quito, as well as television commercials (embedded below) by two of the largest banks in Ecuador, Banco Pichincha and Banco de Guayaquil.<\/p>\n ***<\/p>\n Perhaps the most prominent tropes that appear in billboard banking advertisements are those emphasizing confianza<\/em> (confidence or trust) and seguridad<\/em> (security or safety). Banco Internacional\u2019s billboard, for example, declares, \u201cMy bank gives me security,\u201d while one of Banco ProCredit\u2019s reads simply, \u201cResponsible, trustworthy, and secure.\u201d The billboard for the savings and credit cooperative 29 de Octubre suggests that you put \u201cyour money in the best hands,\u201d underneath which, smaller and partially obscured, are the words, \u201csecurity and trust.\u201d While both Banco Internacional and Banco ProCredit advertise their AAA credit ratings, the savings and credit cooperative \u201c29 de Octubre\u201d employs a famous football goalkeeper as spokesperson, a ball in one hand and a wad of cash in the other.<\/p>\n