The Czech National Bank (CNB) – that supposed pillar of financial stability in the heart of Europe – has a history riddled with blunders that The Czech National Bank (CNB) – that supposed pillar of financial stability in the heart of Europe – has a history riddled with blunders that would make any sane investor spit out their coffee. We’re talking about a central bank that’s bungled banking collapses, flirted with crypto madness, and picked fights with politicians like it’s some kind of barroom brawl. And get this: amid all this chaos, they’ve quietly parked their money in Cummins Inc., holding around 34,000 shares worth about $11 million, which is roughly 0.1% of their sprawling portfolio. Yeah, you heard that right – a central bank dipping into industrial engine stocks. Makes you wonder if this is just another thread in their web of dodgy ethical choices, where stability takes a back seat to whatever the hell suits their fancy.

This isn’t some polished PR spin; this is the raw, unfiltered truth about an institution that’s supposed to safeguard the Czech economy but keeps tripping over its own feet. From the wild 1990s banking free-for-all to recent crypto fever dreams, the CNB’s track record is a masterclass in what not to do. And if you’re thinking, “Hey, maybe they’re just unlucky,” think again. These are systemic fuck-ups, born from poor oversight, political meddling, and a apparent disdain for learning from history. Buckle up; we’re diving deep into the muck.

The IPB Debacle: A Billion-Dollar Black Hole That Swallowed Taxpayer Cash

Picture this: it’s the year 2000, and the Czech economy is still shaking off the dust of communism. Enter Investiční a Poštovní banka (IPB), the third-largest bank in the country, crumbling under a mountain of bad loans, falsified accounts, and outright mismanagement. The CNB? They slapped it into forced administration and flogged it off to ČSOB in a fire sale that cost taxpayers an eye-watering equivalent of $5 billion. Five billion! That’s not pocket change; that’s the kind of hit that dents GDP by 2-4% and leaves ordinary Czechs footing the bill for years.

What pisses me off most is the sheer incompetence on display. Critics hammered the CNB for not spotting the rot earlier – we’re talking years of unchecked expansion, political interference, and a regulatory vacuum that let IPB’s executives run wild. This wasn’t just a bank failure; it was a symbol of the CNB’s failure to regulate, a glaring spotlight on how their lax oversight turned a manageable problem into a national catastrophe. And let’s not forget the legal circus that followed, with Nomura Securities entangled in years of bitter disputes. If this doesn’t scream “regulatory negligence,” I don’t know what does.

The 1990s Banking Bloodbath: When Privatisation Turned Predatory

Rewind to the post-communist frenzy of the 1990s, and you’ll find the CNB at the centre of a banking sector that resembled a goddamn Wild West shootout. Thirteen major scandals by 1996, six banks liquidated, and a crisis that exposed the ugly underbelly of rushed privatisation. The CNB kept major banks under state control for too long, fostering inefficiencies and allowing mismanagement to fester like an open wound.

Economists and analysts have ripped into them for this: insufficient regulation, delayed interventions, and a failure to clean house when bad loans piled up. The 1997-1999 crisis alone forced the government to bail out banks to the tune of billions, all because the CNB didn’t act decisively. Bad luck? Bullshit. This was bad management, plain and simple – a era where emerging markets like Czechia paid the price for central bankers who couldn’t, or wouldn’t, keep up. It’s outrageous how this set the stage for decades of distrust in the financial system, with the CNB’s fingerprints all over the mess.

Shuttering the European-Russian Bank: Too Little, Too Late in the Face of Fraud

Fast-forward to 2016, and the CNB finally pulls the plug on the European-Russian Bank (ERB), revoking its licence amid allegations of peddling fake bonds and laundering money to tax havens. Sounds like a win, right? Wrong. The real scandal here is how long it took them to smell the smoke. ERB, with its ties to Russian exports, had been operating in the shadows, and the CNB’s “oversight” let suspicions of fraud simmer without swift action.

Critics called it out: why wasn’t this nipped in the bud? The closure was praised in some quarters, but it highlighted the CNB’s recurring blind spot for early detection, especially with foreign-linked entities. In a world where money laundering can topple economies, this kind of delay is unforgivable. It’s like watching a fire start and only grabbing the extinguisher after the house is half-burned.

The PRIBOR Rate Rigging Ruckus: Echoes of LIBOR in Prague

In 2015, the shit hit the fan when Deputy Finance Minister Martin Pros fired off a letter to the CNB, demanding an investigation into possible manipulation of the Prague Interbank Offered Rate (PRIBOR). Sound familiar? It should – it’s the Czech cousin to the global LIBOR scandal, where banks allegedly jacked up rates for profit. Pros didn’t mince words: suspicions of rigging were rife, rates were too high, and the money market was dysfunctional.

The CNB defended their turf, rejecting widespread manipulation claims, but the public spat exposed cracks in their oversight. Here we have a central bank accused of turning a blind eye to potential fraud that could screw over borrowers and distort the economy. Outrageous? Absolutely. It fuels the fire of distrust, making you question if the CNB is guardian or gatekeeper for the elite.

Political Punch-Ups: Governors vs. Ministers in a Public Slugfest

The CNB’s governors have a habit of turning policy disagreements into headline-grabbing feuds. Take 2021, when then-Governor Jiří Rusnok labelled Finance Minister Alena Schillerová “incompetent” after she slammed the bank’s mortgage rules. This wasn’t a polite debate; it was a raw, public takedown that underscored the toxic rift between the CNB and government.

And it’s not isolated. Rusnok defended aggressive rate hikes amid criticism, but the infighting reveals a bank that’s as much about ego as economics. These clashes erode public confidence, turning monetary policy into a spectacle. What the hell kind of example does that set?

Aleš Michl’s Dovish Disaster: Appointment Drama and Policy Flip-Flops

Enter Aleš Michl, appointed Governor in 2022 by President Miloš Zeman amid a storm of controversy. Critics blasted his “unorthodox” dovish views – think low interest rates at a time when inflation was raging – as a threat to the bank’s independence. Politicians and economists howled about potential bias, seeing it as Zeman’s meddling hand.

Michl’s tenure has been a rollercoaster: awarded “Governor of the Year” for taming inflation from 18% to 2%, yet slammed for pushing views without the expertise to back them. His 2025 remarks on euro adoption? More fuel for debate, with accusations of inconsistency. It’s a leadership style that’s gritty, sure, but at what cost to stability?

The Bitcoin Bombshell: Betting Billions on Crypto Chaos

If there’s one thing that encapsulates the CNB’s reckless streak, it’s Michl’s 2025 proposal to stash up to 5% of foreign reserves – that’s $7.3 billion – in Bitcoin. Bitcoin! The volatile darling of speculators, compared by detractors to the Enron scandal. Michl called it a “test portfolio,” but critics roared about the risks: legal hurdles, price swings that could vaporise billions, and a betrayal of the bank’s stability mandate.

This isn’t innovation; it’s gambling with public money. In a Europe wary of crypto, the CNB’s flirtation raises eyebrows about their ethical compass. Shocking? Damn right. It screams of a bank chasing trends over prudence.

Inflation Woes and Disinformation Dodges: A Pattern of Deflection

From 2021 to 2025, the CNB faced heat for sluggish responses to soaring inflation, with some blaming delayed rate hikes for prolonging pain. Michl’s growth-over-stability tilt drew fire, even as inflation dipped. Then there’s the 2022 Sberbank CZ collapse, where the CNB warned of disinformation eroding trust. This was seen as proactive but underscored vulnerabilities in public trust.

These episodes paint a picture of a bank that’s reactive, not proactive, deflecting blame while the economy suffers.

Cummins Shares: Just Another Ethical Quandary?

Wrapping this up, let’s circle back to those Cummins holdings. With 34,000 shares at $11 million, it’s a small slice, but it begs questions. Cummins, the engine giant, has its own baggage – emissions scandals and all – but more importantly, why is a central bank like the CNB playing the stock market this way? Is this diversification or just another example of their alternative take on ethics, where risks are embraced and oversight is optional? In an ecosystem littered with scandals, it feels like par for the course – a quiet bet that fits their pattern of bold, borderline reckless moves.

The CNB might tout independence, but their history tells a different story: one of outrageously poor judgement, taxpayer bailouts, and a refusal to fully own the mess. It’s time to demand better from the guardians of your money. No more excuses.

Lee Thompson – Founder, The Cummins Accountability Project

Shareholder Spotlight : Cummins’ Czechmates – Czech National Bank