In Antwerp's diamond district, some frum stalwarts refuse to cut and run 

Photos: David Bernal photography, MB Goldstein

While the Belgian diamond bourse is still a great place to source a breathtaking and well-priced diamond for your next piece of jewelry (and you can make your purchase entirely in mamma loshen, too), the crown of “diamond capital of the world” that Antwerp has worn for hundreds of years has lost its sparkle.

At the heart of the Antwerp Diamantkwartier (Diamond Quarter), the bourse still maintains a dignified air of exclusivity and purpose, even if it’s no longer a bustling center of activity. Over the last 20 years, footfall from international traders in Antwerp’s diamond district is estimated to have fallen by about 80 percent, with Covid putting a further nail in the bourse’s coffin. For African and Indian businessmen selling rough diamonds, the Dubai diamond exchange has usurped the Belgian bourse, and the international diamond cutting and polishing industry has shifted from Antwerp to India because of lower labor costs.

Although Belgium is no longer the diamond center it once was and many in the frum community have moved on to other businesses, there are still some diehards who’ve continued to make parnassah in the diamond industry. These resilient merchants and craftsmen have adjusted to the changing realities, while retaining the vital trust factor they’ve long contributed to the industry and the heimish touch they’ve always brought to the trade.

On a visit to Antwerp’s now-subdued diamond bourse — as a man stands at the door of the Bethe Moshe Portuguese synagogue asking “Rabbosai, Minchah?” — we met with some of these stalwarts, who describe the skill, grit, business savvy and vision that still go into producing everyone’s favorite gemstone.

Like Mr. Mayer David, proprietor of I. David Diamond Tools right here on the Bourse square at Schupstraat 14.

“My father, Yissachar Dov David, was a war survivor who started a small business selling the equipment of his day, including manual scales with two pans for weights,” says Mr. David. But technology moves fast, and the Davids are still in the trade because they moved right along with it.

It’s easy to see how the evolution of machinery has cost jobs. Diamond cutting, or cleaving, was once a popular trade for frum Jews, as it could be done anywhere with just two cement-tipped sticks, a set of blades, and a good eye and skilled hand. Today, diamonds are cut by laser technology, so I. David doesn’t sell blades for cleaving anymore. Buki David, Mayer’s son, points to a machine that counts small diamonds. “In fifteen seconds, it counts one thousand stones. A person who used to do that job would have to count five times, to check he hadn’t made mistakes.”

Today’s scales, for example, are constantly being updated for precision. Buki shows us a late model with five zeros after the decimal point. “One gram equals five carat, so four zeros means it’s showing you one carat. This makes the biggest difference in small diamonds, because a stone of less than one carat has a completely different price. The naked eye can’t see the difference between 99 points and one carat, so without an accurate scale, a trader can overpay at least $1,000.”

The Davids manufacture loupes with Japanese lenses, as well as top-quality Belgian sieves to sift through tiny gemstones. Today they sell their products all over the world. “A guy came in and told us he’d been way out in the African jungle when he spotted a native African digging for diamonds. The African was using an I. David loupe.”