Antwerp, Capital of a Diamond Market Under Pressure

Just a few steps from Antwerp Central Station, behind the neo-Baroque façade that swallows and spits out thousands of travelers every day, the world takes on a different texture. The noise of the trains fades away, replaced by a hushed silence. Over a stretch of barely a few hundred meters (on Pelikaanstraat, Hoveniersstraat, Schupstraat), one of the most powerful and opaque markets on the planet has been operating for centuries.

Here, there are no flashy signs. Only reinforced doors, cameras—nearly 3,500 within the perimeter—and (mostly) men in a hurry, briefcases in hand. Inside, millions of dollars change hands quietly. While many women now work there, they were absent until the 1980s. On the other hand, the market is very diverse, with over 160 nationalities represented.

Each year, more than $20 billion worth of diamonds pass through this district. A unique concentration, rooted in ancient history yet fully integrated into contemporary globalization. “95% of the world’s carats pass through Antwerp,” says a dealer at Diamcad, a specialized cutter. The figure is staggering. On its own, it speaks to the enduring centrality of the Belgian hub, long dominated by the South African giant De Beers, but now open to a multitude of players (African producers, Indian intermediaries, European jewelry houses, Israeli traders) since the end of the monopoly in the 2000s, when African countries nationalized their mines. Some companies occupy 25 square meters; others employ more than 500 or 1,000 people worldwide. Ten companies account for 40% of the market in Antwerp. “People here have a passion for diamonds,” they assure us at Diamcad, “they have a sparkle in their eyes. Many have been here for several generations.”

In the trading rooms, under the cold, constant light of the skylights—a northern light, shadowless, ideal for judging a stone’s clarity—transactions still follow unchanging codes. A handshake may be enough. The diamond, more than any other product, remains a business built on trust. A direct legacy of a tradition dating back to the 15th and 16th centuries, when the first Flemish cutters, starting with Lodewijk van Berken, perfected the art of faceting to reveal the stone’s transparency and brilliance. But it was in the 1920s and 1930s that the diamond trade experienced its most prosperous years. Seated at large tables, with their stones wrapped in small white papers, buyers and sellers poured out of the train station in droves. Just like at the market, when it opened at 7 a.m., it was first come, first served. At the time, there were no wire transfers, only over-the-counter transactions and credit. People came from all over Europe, the United States, and Asia. While the halt caused by the war between 1939 and 1945 and the Holocaust remains fresh in people’s minds, by the 1960s, globalization had considerably enriched the neighborhood. Diamond dealers eventually built modern buildings to house the expanding firms and growing businesses. An explosion at the synagogue in the 1980s led to the streets being closed off with barriers, reinforcing the sense of a “diamond dealers’ district.” Two streets, 300 to 350 meters long, where “every stone is inspected upon entry and exit,” explains David Gottlieb, a jeweler who previously served as director of the Antwerp Diamond Exchange. “It’s the strictest exchange there is. As proof, we have the customs office right on the street!”