The carefully clueless supermodel probably didn’t mean to put her finger on it, but she did. She wasn't wowed by the dirty little pebbles in a grubby pouch thrust at her by a pair of goons, Naomi Campbell said, in testimony before the War Crimes Court in The Hague last week. She’s used to glittery, elegantly set stones in glamorous boxes. Remember this: the shiny part.
Here a Gift, There a Gift...
Charles Taylor, the notorious warlord President of Liberia, at Saint Nelson’s dinner table in September 1997, when the war in Sierra Leone was raging and Liberia was almost as bloody? Odd.
Anyway, the diamonds arrived at Campbell’s door in the wee hours of the night following that dinner party. Knock! Knock! A little something for you. Having no use for diamonds in the rough, evidently, Campbell handed the pouch over to Jeremy Ratcliffe, a Mandela aide, who has testified that he received it.
If Campbell’s testimony really is crucial to fingering Charles Taylor for his role in supplying arms for diamonds to the limb-lopping RUF during the horrible civil war in neighboring Sierra Leone, the prosecution seems to be depending on a pretty weak reed. This is very disturbing, in a trial that has already lasted three years, but the trial isn't over. Today's testimony by Mia Farrow and Campbell’s ex-agent Carole White,who also attended the dinner party, suggests that Campbell may have perjured herself. Assuming, of course, that the latter are reliable witnesses.
The Diamond Hype
But the point I want to make has nothing, really, to do with Campbell herself. It has to do with the dirty little pebbles. How could gravel grubbed up from the muck fuel a truly abominable insurgency? For a long time now, there’s been a glut of diamonds in the world, gem quality stones as well as flawed industrial stones. Diamonds should be, excuse the expression, dirt cheap. Instead, artificial scarcities are created by legendary diamond cartels with the clout to dribble stones onto the market and the resources to underwrite insidiously sophisticated advertising campaigns. Scarcity. Snobbery. Sentimentality. You've seen what this combination does to prices. They skyrocket.
Back to Campbell’s comment about glittery stones in fancy boxes, which clearly she does not dispose of like dirty laundry. The public has been sold a bill of goods. Think of all those de Beers ads with the slogan “diamonds are forever.” Remember Marilyn’s Monroe’s breathy assertion that “diamond’s are a girls best friend” in Gentlemen Prefer Blonds. And in Chicago? More diamonds. Result? Ordinary people pay outrageous prices for diamond rings and diamond ear drops and diamond necklaces. For engagement rings, of course. And even for diamond tennis bracelets, a particularly brilliant marketing campaign that seems at last to have lost momentum.
Meanwhile, consider one of the commonest clichés of our culture. A young woman, newly engaged, dances around, showing off her ring finger. One of my sons got engaged while I was working in Sierra Leone. I held my breath. Would she or wouldn’t she? Demand a diamond, that is. Fortunately for future family relations, no ring materialized. In fact, many other women have resisted the allure of the diamond ring ceremony in recent years.
The Blood Diamond Label
Some observers believe that blood diamonds can be reliably segregated from innocent gems. Even now consumers are encouraged to inquire as to the provenance of the diamond(s) they are about to buy. Others insist that such black and white distinctions are impossible to maintain once gems enter the market. Thus, they say, NGOs urging informed choice on diamond purchasers are fooling themselves and the ultimate customer.
That may very well be. What’s more, the Kimberly process that’s supposed to keep dealers honest can also be tweaked for political reasons. Diamonds currently being mined in Zimbabwe are alleged to be extracted under conditions of virtual slavery and the proceeds do not, as claimed, go 100% into the national treasury. So far as I know, no one’s being disembowled over control of the diamond industry in Zimbabwe, but there’s only one way to be sure that your engagement party’s glitz and glitter doesn’t depend on forced labor in an unhealthy mud pit. Don’t buy diamonds.
Where the Planes Land
Consider this: two airlines served Freetown back when the Civil War was raging and Charles Taylor was in power next door. Sabena and KLM. Both Belgium and The Netherlands have huge diamond industries. In fact, I was told, in a conspiratorial whisper, by a KLM pilot I met before a flight I was scheduled to take, “Metal detectors don’t detect diamonds.” A pocketful would be worth a fortune. That being so, I wonder how many airline personnel managed to acquire a few diamonds off and on as they made their round trips to Freetown. I also wonder how many of them looked the other way (or worse) when shady diamond dealers climbed aboard their flights. Next, think about this. You can’t walk through the airport in Amsterdam without passing a dozen or more diamond retailers. Ditto the city itself: whole sections of the city devoted to the diamond industry–the cutting, the grading, the marketing, etc.
And finally, among the guilty, are the customers, the people who fall for emotion-based advertising that stimulates demand for the overpriced rocks called diamonds. If Americans didn’t want drugs, Mexico would be a safer place. If comfortable people didn’t want to wave their diamond-laden fingers, the less fortunate wouldn't have been mutilated and enslaved to mine the raw materials, and warlords would have a harder time of it.There’s plenty of guilt to go around.