The Green Elephant

In Colombia, which produces almost all the world's emeralds, the gems lie so close to the earth's surface that they have been turned up by foraging pigs. Yet from the viewpoint of the government's supposed emerald monopoly, most of the stones might as well be buried beyond reach. The real rulers of the jungle-matted minefields are the esmeralderos (emerald buccaneers); they buy and steal illegally mined stones, smuggle them out, engage in endless shootouts and wind up with most of the estimated $150 million that global sales of Colombian emeralds generate each year. Fed up, the government closed most of its money-losing mines last year and invited bids for concessions to operate its richest deposits. Not one company or consortium would touch the offer with a ten-foot pick, even though world demand for emerald jewelry has grown voracious.

Last week Ecominas, the state mining corporation, again tried to sell off concessions to its major mines and this time got nibbles from two companies, Mineros Colombianos and Exber Ltd. But the companies refused to make firm commitments until the government offered better terms. One discouragement to brisk bidding was an Ecominas demand that private operators collectively guarantee to pay the government a minimum of $21 million for the first year and up to $35 million annually by the fifth year. Many companies also held back from bidding because of justified fear of the mining zone's raging violence.

Tropical Klondike. The illegal emerald trade has slowed somewhat since last July, when the government sent in an army division to seal off the biggest mining area and root out thousands of squatters, grifters and smugglers who had turned the zone into a kind of tropical Klondike. Yet many prospectors continue to slip by the army patrols, hole up in caves by day and dig for emeralds through the night with the help of masked flashlights. The army itself is not immune to emerald fever. Says Willis Bronkie, one of Bogota's biggest and most successful emerald dealers: "one of the best jobs in the army is commander of that post out in the zone. I know several men who came back very rich."

Criminals continue to smuggle out stones, and hijacking is common. The shoulders of the main road between the mining zone and Bogota are dotted with crosses that mark the graves of those who lost their lives and their booty to pistol-packing esmeralderos. Last year, for example, a gang called La Pesada (the Heavy Mob) held up a caravan of smugglers working for El Ganso (the Goose), took their emeralds, and machine-gunned five of them to death.

Along Bogota's 14th Street, the trading center for small-time dealers, illegally mined emeralds are openly hawked on the sidewalks or in seedy bars and backrooms. The esmeralderos sell the better gems to major dealers or big international combines, which smuggle them out by light planes from Colombia's hundreds of private airstrips. The biggest emerald buyers by far in recent years have been the Japanese, who have bought an estimated $300 million worth since 1967. Prices for emeralds in Japan have more than doubled in the past two years, and a dealer can be assured of at least a 20% profit on even an inferior stone. But none of that does much to help the Colombian government. It must either find a way to quash the esmeralderos or accept the frustrating fact that its vast gem deposits add up to nothing more than a green elephant.

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