Abilio – 03/16/2024 – Candido Bracher

In the beginning, it was Tio Abilio.

It was July 1968. I was nine years old and traveling with my parents and a cousin of the same age. After visiting Peru, we went to Bariloche, where my dream of learning to ski was frustrated by the lack of snow.

There my parents met their friends Abilio and Auri, who invited them to join the Diniz family group on a chartered bus tour of the Chilean lakes.

“Uncle Abilio” was clearly the leader of the group, which included his sister Vera, his two brothers, Alcides and Arnaldo, and their wives, Rosaura and Lica. When we arrived at the hotels, he was always the one who took care of check-in and gave directions.

His leadership impressed me a lot, it’s true, but not as much as the magnificent stature of his brothers —both almost two meters tall— and the beauty of their women. It was a joyful trip, with adults taking turns at the bus microphone, telling jokes and singing.

For my cousin and me, it was a completely different experience, only with adults who paid us a lot of attention.

During my adolescence, there were only scattered meetings in Ibiúna, at the house of my godfather, Luiz Carlos Bresser-Pereira, who was an important executive at Pão de Açúcar. Despite the age difference, there was always a friendly greeting from Abilio and, not infrequently, some challenge.

Later, more than once I heard my father speak with admiration of Abilio’s business talent, as was the case, for example, with the acquisition of Eletroradiobraz in 1976.

Years later, shortly after the founding of BBA Creditanstalt by my father and his partner, Beltran, in 1988, I —who was a director— visited the financial director of Pão de Açúcar looking to raise term deposits for the new bank. The task was inglorious.

Pão de Açúcar was a very liquid company and had criteria for selecting depository banks that apparently excluded a small and recently created institution like BBA. But things have changed; Little by little, Pão de Açúcar started to need resources, and I saw it as a chance to strengthen relationships and show that we were a bank determined to have a relationship of authentic partnership.

It turns out that the change in the company’s cash policy ended up revealing a major liquidity crisis, which took it from being an applicator of resources to a major borrower in the space of a few months. The time was one of great turbulence, and rumors ran rampant.

I remember a well-known consultant who gave several lectures at BBA stating, in front of an audience of bank employees and client executives: “I always say that this country will only change after they fail a bank, a construction company and a large supermarket; bank and construction company have already gone bankrupt, and there is a supermarket that is almost…”.

Given the great trust we placed in the company, we had granted credit beyond the amount that would be reasonable on a cold analysis. I worried to the point of losing sleep, but there was little I could do.

“A lo hecho, pecho” said Beltran, of Spanish descent. I followed the rumors and gathered what information I could, without ever turning to Abilio. It was said that one of his brothers openly defended a bankruptcy filing (the judicial recovery at the time), while Abilio was concerned with structuring the company to face the situation.

That’s what he did. He delivered one of the “crown jewels” — the supermarket chain in Portugal —, restructured the company by paying all creditors, without proposing a discount. I don’t think I ever told him about my sleepless nights, but from then on I combined a secret feeling of gratitude with the admiration and affection I already had.

After overcoming the financial crisis, Abilio led a painful family negotiation process, which led him to the position of controlling shareholder.

Once this stage was completed, he promoted the professionalization of the company, which meant that his daughter Ana —a competent professional and my friend for decades— left her executive position to become a member of the board.

Both did what they considered to be best for the company, despite the personal cost of the measure.

BBA was one of the two banks selected for the IPO in 1995, and was also the advisor for negotiating Casino’s entry as a minority partner in 1999. I personally went to Paris for an introductory dinner with Jean-Charles Naouri and I followed all the negotiations.

Abilio was enthusiastic about the partnership, which he negotiated skillfully. I remember the dinners to celebrate the agreement; one, small, at the house of David de Rothschild, CEO of the bank that advised Casino, and another at my father’s house in São Paulo, with the participation of more people involved in the negotiation.

For a few years, as a member of the board of directors, I was able to monitor the good development of the company, so much so that in 2005 an increase in Casino’s participation was negotiated.

But the partnership turned sour. Abilio believed that Naouri shared his visions and would always feel privileged to have someone with his capacity and knowledge of Brazilian retail at the head of the company, while the Frenchman clearly aimed for control, which he had acquired to exercise at a future date.

I believe that, more than the divergence of views, it was the differences in temperament that determined the breakup. On the one hand, Abilio’s extroverted, impulsive, affectionate and transparent character. On the other, a financial genius, recluse, very introverted and quite suspicious.

Shortly before the conflict broke out, I had asked to leave the board, due to additional responsibilities at Itaú BBA. Thus, I was spared from participating in conflictual meetings, in which lawyers were more important than counselors.

Abilio also asked my opinion about the operation he had prepared with Carrefour and which was the trigger for the conflict.

In keeping with our tacit commitment to sincerity, I wrote that I didn’t like the idea and gave my reasons. He responded by disagreeing head on, but amicably. Our friendship had passed a great test.

It was still up to me to play a small role in the construction of the agreement that ended the partnership. In a demonstration of his pragmatism, Abilio hired William Ury, a specialist in conflict resolution, and asked me to call David de Rothschild, proposing that he receive Ury. The French banker agreed and, against all expectations, weeks later the agreement was signed.

Abilio became a much lighter person after leaving Pão de Açúcar. We maintained close contact personally and professionally.

I also accompanied him on another trip to Paris, to seal his first agreement with Carrefour. After the negotiation, he invited me for a delicious snack at the Caviar House. I was very happy.

More recently, we had a sad encounter when I visited him at his home a few days after John Paul’s death. It was a long and dense conversation, in which he did not hide his deep sadness, but made it clear that he would maintain the positive disposition he always had towards life.

In the last conversation we had, he spoke enthusiastically about the “Pact Against Hunger” project, led by his wife, Geyze. I admired once again your authentic affective capacity and your constant concern for the country’s weaknesses.

I still have your words on my cell phone in response to my message on your 87th birthday: “I thank God for having friends like you.”

It’s reciprocal, dear friend. And, as I believe that a relationship only ends when both people leave, I know we will continue talking.