When smuggling of tanzanite, a popular blue zoisite found only in the Merelani hills of Tanzania, got out of hand in 1990, the ensuing glut toppled prices more than 40% in less than a year. Just before New Year’s, the Tanzanian government sent troops to Merelani to evict tens of thousands of gem poachers, an action that helped stabilize the market. Next, the Ministry of Water, Energy and Minerals divided the area into four blocks—A, B, C and D—and licensed each to a different mining company. By March, things seemed headed back to normal.
Then nature started playing tricks at Block B. In April, miners used to seeing typically reddish-brown zoisites (which heating transforms into the blue variety jewelers know well) began to notice smatterings of odd-ball green stones
Shortly thereafter, some of these stones started appearing in parcels sold to other Merelani leaseholders. One of them, Bill Barker, Barker and Co., Scottsdale, Ariz., thought at first the unknowns might be tsavorite (a green garnet unique to East Africa), but was quickly dispelled of this notion when stones tested out as tanzanite. “We wanted to know the cause of the green so we sent samples to GIA and the California Institute of Technology,” he says. “In June, we learned it was chromium.’
A month earlier, two gemologists, N.R. Barot of Kenya and Edward Boehm, then with the Gubelin Gemmological Laboratory in Lucerne, Switzerland, had also discovered the true identity of the green oddities from Block B. As was customary among gem discoverers, the two thought they had the privilege of naming the stone, or at least a say in the process. Following a tradition of naming gems after eminent gemologists and mineralogists, Barot and Boehm proposed the newcomer be christened “gublinite,” for Boehm’s grandfather, the renowned Swiss gemologist Eduard Gubelin.
Little did they suspect that their proposal would trigger a firestorm of opposition when introduced at the International Colored Gemstone Association Congress in Honolulu, in June 1991. African delegates, even those from Barot’s own country, took the rostrum to denounce the homage to Gubelin as meddling in the internal affairs of Tanzania. All the African delegates insisted that only Tanzania had the right to name the new gem because it was exclusive to its lands. Exercising what it considered a sovereign right, the Tanzanians chose the name “chrome tanzanite” (later changed to “green tanzanite”). Barot and Boehm graciously withdrew their suggested name and apologized for any offense their actions gave. By doing so, they were ratifying two name unwritten laws of gem nomenclature:
Rule 1: If you want to name something after a legendary gemologist, name a building, room or rock, but never a gem with jewelry market potential.
Rule 2: Effective trade names are now a prerequisite of gem marketing. Thus, naming gems can’t be left to their discoverers. Such people tend to be unmindful of commercial appeal.
Patriot Games
Few people realized the difference a jazzy gem name could make in a gem’s sales prospects until Tiffany’s coined “tanzanite” and “tsavorite” in 1969 and 1974. These masterful names evoked the exotic East African locales where the gems came from rather than any intrinsic qualities. Suddenly, the jewelry world saw that naming a gem took as much imagination as naming a perfume or a line of cosmetics.
That’s why the flap over gublinite wasn’t just political. No doubt, the Tanzanians were sore about an attempt to name green zoisite without even consulting them, never mind getting their consent. But they were also smart enough to see that to adopt the name “gublinite” would have been to squander a market opportunity. After all, it isn’t every day that new gems are found. And when they are, the weirdest monikers get attached to them in no time at all.
For instance, when natives began finding a brilliant orange garnet in East Africa during the late 1960s, they called it “malaya,” a Swahili word meaning both “outcast” and “prostitute,” but connoting, above all, “trash.” This peevish name for the mongrel garnet has stuck, despite calls to disinfect it by gemologists.
The world might also have adopted a colorful sobriquet for the new green zoisite if Barot and Boehm hadn’t caused such a commotion with their suggested name. When native tanzanite finders see stones, they nicknamed them “combat,” a top-led red reference to the color of battlefield fatigues occasioned by the Gulf War. Perhaps it is just as well the name didn’t stick. As a first impression of the often olive-green color of the material, it made sense. But it was hardly suitable for this breed’s best stones, which boast what Kurt Arens of Barker and Co. calls “a tangy green.”
For Collectors Only
To date, production of green tanzanite has been minuscule, just enough to support a small but thriving collectors’ market. If studies of this gem remain scant, or peter out altogether, it might be argued that a name like “gublinite” would have been alright. Since collectors tend to be knowledgeable about stones they buy, there is probably little need for green tanzanite to have a tantalizing trade name. On the other hand, what if miners hit big veins of this green zoisite and there is a chance to make a jewelry market for this newcomer? Keeping the name of “gublinite” would have been as smart as Marilyn Monroe keeping the name “Norma Jean Baker.”
In any case, the world could use a major strike of green tanzanite, especially now when its blue brethren has become the most popular sapphire substitute in history. If green tanzanite were to become as plentiful as blue is, making prices of the two equally affordable, zoisite would be known as much as an alternative to emerald as it is to sapphire. That’s a big if.
At present, supplies of green tanzanite are so scarce that prices range between $800 and $1,800 per carat for decent-to-fine material. While we have yet to see a green tanzanite that could be mistaken for a fine emerald and only a handful whose color matches that of a fine chrome tourmaline (another East African gem specialty), we have been shown many that look like better-grade tsavorite. Arens is right when he says that the color of green tanzanite doesn’t, as a rule, get as deep or as rich as that of fine emerald or chrome tourmaline.
This isn’t to say fine green tanzanites aren’t beautiful. They are, but expect the best of them to be medium in tone and moderate in color saturation. Lower-priced stones will usually be lighter, exhibiting yellow and often gray. As compensation, stones under 2 carats are generally cut to be eye-clean (larger stones tend to have some inclusions). All in all, green tanzanite would make a marvelous jewelry gem. Merelani, it’s up to you.
Please note: this profile was originally published in 1992 in Modern Jeweler’s ‘Gem Profiles/2: The Second 60’, written by David Federman with photographs by Tino Hammid.
The green tanzanite shown in the header image is courtesy of Pala International, Fallbrook, Calif.
