In
the winter of 1978, diamond dealers in New York City
were becoming increasingly concerned about the possibility
of a serious rupture, or even collapse, of the pipeline
through which De Beers' diamonds flowed from the cutting
centers in Europe to the main retail markets in America
and Japan. This pipeline, as every dealer knows, is
a crucial component in the diamond invention made up
of a network of brokers, diamond cutters, bankers, distributors,
jewelry manufacturers, wholesalers and diamond buyers
for retail establishments. Most of the people in this
pipeline are Jewish, and virtually all are closely connected
through family ties or longstanding business relationships.
New York City's diamond district, where nearly half
of all the gem diamonds in the world are bought or sold,
is a key juncture in the pipeline.
The diamond district
is located mainly in a single block on 47th Street between
Fifth and Sixth Avenues. If one walks along the street
level, he sees mainly retail stores with such enticing
advertisements as, "We Buy Retail; Sell Wholesale."
These stores are meant mainly for tourists. The real
diamond exchange, involving the sale of billions of
dollars worth of loose diamonds, takes place in "clubs"
and offices discreetly located on the upper floors of
these buildings. Most of the smaller dealers are members
of the Diamond Dealers Club, at 30 West 47th Street.
Although the name evokes images of a plush and luxurious
meeting place, the Diamond Dealers Club more closely
resembles a tawdry cafeteria, with its linoleum floor
and rows of bare tables. The 2,000-odd members, many
of whom are Hasidic Jews, sit across the tables from
one another like players at a chess tournament, their
gaze fixed on an assemblage of tiny diamonds spread
out on a piece of paper in between them. Every few moments
a diamond sale is made, the diamonds on the table are
sealed in the paper. In the center of the room there
is a glass booth where diamonds are officially weighed
after the transaction is agreed upon. Meanwhile, a loudspeaker
system pages members to the telephone where they conduct
further business. (Most of the members have no other
office than the "club.") The club also provides a room
for the afternoon prayer and a kosher restaurant.
The larger dealers
do their business not in the trading hall of the diamond
club but in their own well-protected offices. Almost
all these offices have closed-circuit television cameras
to identify visitors, and at least three sets of locked
doors through which the visitor must pass. The rule
in the diamond district is that no stranger is ever
admitted to these private offices. Since dealers commonly
carry on their persons millions of dollars worth of
diamonds, such stringent precautions are an indispensable
part of the profession. The New York dealers are dependent
on the flow of diamonds from London to the diamond-cutting
factories in Tel Aviv. In the nineteen-seventies, however,
a crimp emerged in the pipeline when Israeli diamond
dealers, rather than processing and passing the diamonds
on to New York, stockpiled them. Since diamond prices
were then rapidly increasing at the time, and Israeli
currency depreciating by more than 50 percent a year,
it became more profitable for Israeli dealers to retain
the diamonds that they received from London than to
cut and sell them for paper money. These Israeli dealers,
moreover, could borrow money from the banks on their
diamonds at relatively low interest rates. As more and
more diamonds were taken out of circulation at the Tel
Aviv end of the pipeline, an acute shortage began in
New York, driving prices up. By 1979, these Israeli
stockpiles began indeed to threaten the entire diamond
invention.
Until the Second World
War, the diamond invention rested on three legs: production,
centered in Africa; distribution, based in London; and
diamond cutting, located almost exclusively in Antwerp.
The German invasion of Belgium, however, knocked out
one of the legs of the tripod-Antwerp. Oppenheimer had
provided the Belgian cutting factories there with the
lion's share of De Beers diamonds, and he could count
on them not to resell the diamonds to speculators or
other "weak hands." But with the fall of Antwerp, the
diamond-cutting industry left De Beers' universe of
control.
Since many of the cutters
in Antwerp were Jewish, the British-mandated territory
of Palestine (Israel) became a natural focal point for
the displaced industry. The birth of this new Israeli
industry began in 1939 when two Jewish refugees in tattered
clothes arrived at the port of Haifa in Palestine. When
the customs officer on duty searched through their meager
personal belongings, he discovered an envelope containing
what looked like hundreds of tiny bits of broken milk
glass. He puzzled over them for a moment, and then questioned
the refugees about these odd fragments.
The refugees nervously
explained that they were both diamond cutters from Antwerp,
and the objects in the envelope were, in fact, rough
diamonds which they hoped to cut and polish in Palestine.
To do this, they told the customs officer they would
need a small loan to set up a rudimentary work shop.
Did the officer know anyone who might help them, they
asked.
The customs officer
had never before seen an uncut diamond; indeed, few
people in Palestine in 1939 had ever seen one. He therefore
took the packet of diamonds to Oved Ben Ami, the mayor
of neighboring Natanya. Ben Ami, a short, sprightly
man in his early thirties, was one of the most enterprising
of the Jewish pioneers in Palestine. A decade earlier,
Natanya was nothing but a marsh between Tel Aviv and
Haifa, but Ben Ami, fearing that the Arabs might settle
there and drive a wedge between the two Jewish cities,
decided to found a Jewish settlement there. He put all
his energy into raising money and recruiting settlers,
and by 1939 he had succeeded in building a small city.
It had, however, no industry. On seeing the diamonds,
Ben Ami became interested in the possibility of establishing
a diamond industry in his town of Natanya, and he asked
to see the refugees.
The two men explained
to Ben Ann that very little capital was necessary for
cutting and polishing diamonds. All that was needed,
in fact, was good sunlight, skilled labor, a few rudimentary
tools and a supply of rough diamonds. They even demonstrated
how a rough diamond was first cleaved, then cut and
polished.
Ben Ami was impressed.
He provided the men with a building in Natanya for their
work and reached into his own pocket and lent them money
for their personal expenses. He then did some further
research into the diamond business.
Three requisites, sunlight,
labor and tools, would be readily available in Palestine;
the problem would be acquiring a steady supply of rough
diamonds. He consulted a knowledgeable banker in Tel
Aviv, and he found out that De Beers controlled virtually
the entire world's supply of diamonds. Since the cartel
had an agreement with the government of Belgium, which
specified that most of the diamonds would be sent to
Antwerp to be cut by Belgian labor, this banker advised
him that there was little possibility that the cartel
would ever allow Palestine to compete with Belgium.
Although discouraged,
Ben Ami refused to give up. He had determined that most
of the world's diamond business, including the De Beers
cartel, was, as he put it, "in Jewish hands," and he
persuaded himself that most of these Jews would be sympathetic
to the idea of creating a diamond industry in Palestine.
He also realized that the Nazi armies were on the verge
of overrunning Belgium and the Netherlands, and that
many of the Jewish cutters, like the two refugees, might
seek refuge in Palestine. He therefore dashed off a
series of letters to the mayors of Antwerp and Amsterdam,
as well as a number of guild officials in those cities,
suggesting that they consider sending their Jewish cutters
to Natanya for the duration of the war. He received,
however, no reply until mid- 1940.
Ben Ami finally received
a letter from a Jewish industrialist in Antwerp. The
industrialist, who had obtained Ben Ami's address from
the mayor of Antwerp, offered to pay for the relocation
of sixty Belgian diamond cutters in Palestine, Ben Ami
could arrange the necessary entrance visas.
Since the British authorities
had placed strict restrictions on the number of Jews
allowed to enter Palestine, Ben Ami's first task was
to persuade the British to waive these quotas on immigrants.
He asked Ben-Gurion, then head of the Jewish Agency,
for help. Ben-Gurion's first priority was saving Jews
from the nations that had already been overrun by the
Germans, and not from neutral countries such as Belgium.
Ben Ami went to the
British high commissioner for Palestine. In presenting
his case, he argued that since most of the diamonds
in the world came from the British Empire, it was in
the national interest of Great Britain to make sure
that the skilled diamond cutters in Europe were not
all captured by the Germans. As there was a distinct
possibility that Germany would invade Belgium and Holland
in the months ahead, he proposed that the British facilitate
the immediate transfer of sixty diamond cutters to Palestine.
After studying the
memorandum that Ben Ami had prepared on the subject,
the high commissioner agreed that some precautions should
be taken to protect the diamond trade. Cutting the tangle
of red tape surrounding Jewish immigration to Palestine,
he issued Ben Ami sixty visas for Belgian cutters.
The next problem for
Ben Ami was persuading De Beers to send a supply of
diamonds to Palestine. In London, he consulted Harry
Abrams, the managing director of De Beers' Diamond Trading
Corporation. Ben Ami made the case that De Beers was
about to lose its cutting centers in Antwerp and Amsterdam
and it should look to Palestine as an alternative. Abrams
coldly replied, "Don't worry about us, Mr. Ben Ami.
We have enough cut diamonds in our vault to last through
the war ... and then some." Moreover, Abrams explained
that De Beers had a binding agreement with the Belgian
Government that prevented De Beers from sending diamonds
to be cut anywhere else. Diamonds for Palestine were
simply "out of the question."
Ben Ami was not so easily
put off. He sought out the assistance of Otto Oppenheimer,
the brother of Sir Ernest, and appealed to him as a
Jew to assist not merely the diamond industry but Palestine.
Although Oppenheimer thought Ben Ami presumptuous, he
finally wearily gave in and told Ben Ami, "I will be
your ambassador and try to persuade De Beers."
In fact, Oppenheimer
was concerned that Ben Ami was stirring up the Colonial
Office about the possible disruption of the diamond
trade, and if he persisted, the British government might
begin to scrutinize more closely the flow of diamonds
around the world. To get rid of this persistent nuisance,
Oppenheimer decided with Abrams to provide Ben Ami temporarily
with a modest supply of diamonds that could be cut in
Palestine.
Ben Ami then flew to
Antwerp to recruit the sixty cutters. Even though war
with Germany seemed imminent, he found it impossible
to persuade the Jewish cutters to go to Palestine. They
believed that the Germans, led by General Rommel, were
on the verge of capturing Palestine, and they had no
intention of leaving neutral Belgium. They were living
in "a paradise of fools," he concluded, and in the end,
he managed to recruit only a half dozen cutters.
Ben Ami returned to
Natanya considering his mission a failure. He had neither
the master cutters nor the amount of diamonds he had
hoped to obtain. However, within a week of his return,
the Nazi armies blitzkrieged their way through the Low
Countries. The British dispatched a destroyer to Antwerp
in an attempt to seize the cutters' stocks of diamonds
before they fell into German hands, and a few of the
Jewish cutters escaped with the British raiding party.
But the cutting centers of Antwerp and Amsterdam were
lost to the Allies-and De Beers-and Palestine now became
an expedient alternative
In early 1941, Ben
Ami received a message from George Prins, the broker
who represented De Beers, saying that a consignment
of diamonds had been allotted to Palestine. Before Ben
Ami could receive them, however, he would have to pay
ten thousand pounds sterling, which was the value De
Beers established for them. Even though this was an
enormous sum of money in Palestine in 1941, Ben Ami
managed to convince a leading bank to advance it to
him for the diamonds, which would serve as collateral.
When the diamonds finally arrived in a small cardboard
box, Ben Ami distributed them to the few trained diamond
cutters. The diamonds themselves were relatively small
stones, all less than a carat in weight, even in their
uncut state. These melees, or medium-grade diamonds,
required an enormous amount of labor to cut and finish,
and had never been highly profitable goods in Antwerp
or Amsterdam.
With a flow of Jewish
refugees from Europe, Palestine had, however, an abundance
of cheap labor. The diamond-cutting factories in Israel
were organized along very different lines than those
in Antwerp. Instead of assigning the task of cutting
and polishing a. diamond to a single master craftsman,
it was divided among six men. This division of labor,
called the "chain of six," made it far easier to train
and employ diamond cutters and shortened the time involved
in finishing the diamonds. Even though the process resulted
in slightly inferior workmanship, the difference, especially
on the medium-grade diamonds, was not noticeable to
the naked eye.
By the end of the war,
Palestine had suddenly become the world's largest manufacturing
center for diamonds, in terms of quantity, if not quality.
During the war years, no less than 5,000 refugees had
been trained as cutters, and De Beers had shipped more
than $100 million worth of diamonds to Palestine. The
rise of this Palestinian industry caused considerable
concern in the more traditional cutting centers in Belgium.
After consulting the
leading bankers and politicians in Belgium, De Beers
decided that the only prudent policy for the cartel
was to reestablish Antwerp as the world's manufacturing
center. Antwerp was, after all, less than an hour's
flight from London, and the dealers there had a long
history of collaboration with the cartel. And Belgian
interests still controlled the important mines in the
Congo. Between 1945 and 1948, De Beers reduced the number
of diamonds consigned to Palestine by as much as 70
percent. Moreover, the diamonds it continued to supply
were smaller and of inferior quality to the medium-grade
diamonds Palestine factories had received during the
war. These sharp cutbacks had the intended effect of
choking off the nascent industry.
In 1948, however, the
Jewish state of Israel was established in Palestine.
The new nation had only one viable industry-diamond
manufacturing; and both the government and the Israeli
banks decided that, despite the shortage of diamonds,
that industry had to be aggressively supported. The
major banks therefore extended virtually unlimited credit
to diamond dealers to buy diamonds from the Belgian
clients of De Beers. Since the Belgians preferred to
manufacture the larger and more profitable stones, they
were quite willing to make an instant profit on the
smaller and less profitable stones in their consignments.
The Israeli manufacturers made up for the higher prices
that they paid for the diamonds by using cheaper labor.
By the mid-1950s, Israeli manufacturers again dominated
the melee, or small diamond, business-even though they
had to buy most of their rough goods on the secondary
market. The cartel quickly adjusted to the reality of
the situation. Since Israeli manufacturers were determined
to get diamonds by one means or another, De Beers decided
that it, rather than the Belgian manufacturers, should
realize the profits on the Israeli transactions. In
an abrupt reversal of policy, De Beers began to supply
a number of carefully chosen dealers in Israel with
an abundance of melee diamonds. One dealer, Joseph Goldfinger,
the cartel's favored instrument in Israel, would be
sent more than a hundred million dollars worth of small
diamonds a year. De Beers also created its own subsidiary
in Israel, Diamondel, to deal in rough diamonds. By
1965, Israel was receiving more than five-sixths of
De Beers' total allotment of melee diamonds.
In the 1970s, repeated
devaluations of Israel's currency gave the Israeli diamond-cutting
industry a competitive edge over its rivals in Antwerp
and New York. Not only were the Israeli factories more
efficiently organized to cut small diamonds but because
of their devalued money, they also had vastly lower
labor costs than the factories elsewhere. Not satisfied
with dominating the melee diamond business, Israeli
dealers began to bid for the larger stones. By 1975,
diamonds accounted for nearly 40 percent of Israel's
nonagricultural exports, and nearly 20,000 workers were
employed in the cutting factories. In Antwerp, by contrast,
over one-fourth of all the diamond cutters were out
of work, and hundreds of factories, unable to cope with
the Israeli competition, faced bankruptcy.
De Beers became seriously
concerned that the Israeli competition could disrupt
the entire diamond trade. In early 1977, Sir Philip
Oppenheimer dispatched his son Anthony to Tel Aviv,
accompanied by other De Beers executives. Anthony Oppenheimer's
mission was to persuade the Israelis to curtail their
expansion. He met with De Beers' favored clients, the
bankers who were extending credit to diamond dealers
and the government officials who supposedly regulated
the Israeli industry. He subtly warned them all that
De Beers would not tolerate unbridled competition between
Israel and Antwerp, and announced that De Beers intended
to cut the Israeli quota of diamonds by at least 20
percent in the coming year.
This warning had the
opposite effect of what had been intended. Rather than
paring down production in line with this quota, Israeli
manufacturers and dealers began building up their own
stockpile of diamonds. They paid a premium of one hundred
percent or more for the unopened boxes of diamonds that
De Beers had shipped to Belgian and American dealers.
(And by selling their diamonds to the Israelis, the
De Beers clients could instantly double their money
without taking any risks.) Israeli buyers also moved
into Africa and began buying directly from smugglers.
The Intercontinental Hotel in Liberia, which was then
the center for the sale of smuggled goods, became a
sort of extension of the Israeli bourse. After the Israeli
dealers had purchased the diamonds, either from De Beers'
clients or smugglers, they received 80 percent of the
amount they paid from Israeli banks in the form of a
loan. Because of government pressure to help the diamond
industry, the banks charged only 6 percent interest
on these loans, well below the rate of inflation in
Israel. By 1978, the banks had extended $850 million
in credit to diamond dealers, an amount equal to some
15 percent of the entire gross national product of Israel.
The only collateral the banks had for these loans were
uncut diamonds.
De Beers estimated
the Israeli stockpile to be more than 6 million carats
in 1977 and growing at a rate of almost a half million
carats a month. At that rate, it would be only a matter
of months before the Israeli stockpile would exceed
that of the cartel's in London. If Israel controlled
such an enormous quantity of diamonds, the cartel could
no longer fix the price of diamonds with impunity. At
any time the Israelis could pour these diamonds onto
the world market, destroying forever the carefully nurtured
mystique of the value of diamonds. The cartel decided
that they had no alternative but to force liquidation
of the Israeli stockpile.
By 1977, however, the
situation in Israel was almost completely out of De
Beers' control. The Goldfinger organization, and other
of De Beers' leading distributors in Israel, told De
Beers that even if they cut back on their purchases,
independent dealers and speculators would step in to
take up the slack. The distributors warned the cartel
that as long as the banks were willing to finance diamond
purchases with artificially low interest rates, there
would be no effective way of stopping Israelis from
accumulating diamonds as a hedge against inflation.
If it wanted to bring the diamond speculation under
control, De Beers would have to clamp down on the banks.
De Beers was not without
influence in Israeli banking circles. Harry Oppenheimer
sat on the board of directors of Barclays International
Bank, which controlled Barclays Discount Bank in Israel.
And E. J. G. Dawes, one of the managing directors of
the De Beers operation in London, was on the board of
directors of the Union Bank of Israel, which together
with Barclays Discount Bank financed more than half
of all the Israeli diamond purchases. De Beers made
it clear to the Israeli bankers that it considered the
present speculation to be extremely dangerous. Moreover,
it warned that it was adopting a new strategy of imposing
"surcharges" on diamonds, which might be abruptly withdrawn
at any moment. Since these "surcharges," which would
range as high as 40 percent of the value of the diamonds,
were effectively a temporary price increase, they could
be extremely risky to banks extending credit to diamond
dealers. For example, with a 40 percent surcharge, a
diamond dealer had to pay $1,400 rather than $1,000
for a small lot of diamonds; however, if the surcharge
was then withdrawn, the diamonds would be worth only
a thousand dollars. Through this device, De Beers, in
effect, announced that it was embarking on a policy
of manipulating the prices of diamonds in order to trap
speculators. Under these circumstances, the Israeli
banks could not afford to advance 80 percent of the
purchase price, including the so-called surcharge. They
therefore required additional collateral from the dealers
and speculators. Further, they began, under pressure
from De Beers, to raise interest rates on outstanding
loans.
Within a matter of weeks
in 1977, interest rates on diamonds went up 50th percent.
Moreover, instead of lending money based on what Israeli
dealers paid for diamonds, the banks now would only
lend money based on the official De Beers price for
diamonds. If a dealer paid more than the De Beers price
for diamonds-and most Israeli dealers were paying at
least double the price in 1977-he would have to finance
the increment from his personal funds.
To tighten the squeeze
on Israel, De Beers abruptly cut off shipments of diamonds
to forty of its clients who had been selling large portions
of their consignments to Israeli dealers. This dramatic
reprisal made De Beers' 250 or so remaining clients
aware of the risks involved in trafficking with Israel.
As Israeli dealers
found it increasingly difficult either to buy or finance
diamonds, they were forced to sell diamonds from the
stockpiles that they had accumulated. As Israeli diamonds
poured onto the market in 1979, prices began to fall
at the wholesale level. This decline led the Israeli
banks to put further pressure on dealers to liquidate
their stocks to repay their loans. Speculators found
themselves caught between rising financing charges and
lower prices, and in a state approaching panic, began
selling their diamonds regardless of the price they
had paid. Hundreds of Israeli dealers, unable to meet
their commitments, went bankrupt in the fall of 1980
as prices continued to plunge. The banks inherited the
diamonds. De Beers had won the first round in the diamond
war with Israel.
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