Light and Blood

It is hard to say exactly when gemstones first cast their spell over the human heart, or when we first learned to recognize that fine, shimmering line between transparency and color. Was it a specific hue glowing through the gray field stones that stirred such primal greed? Or perhaps it was the light itself.

Since then, many rivers have washed fine stones from the bellies of mountains. They have been gathered, mined, and uprooted, passing from hand to hand—from miner to merchant, buyer to seller, subject to ruler—until they adorned the circlets of princes, kings, and pretenders. They remain a marker of that ancient spark of desire we inherited from the first man.

Light carries immense prestige in Iranian culture. Ever since the god Ahura Mazda bestowed his blessings upon the world, fixed the sun in its place, and set kings to rule beneath it, light and its virtues have run like a glowing thread between man and creator, emperor and heir, master and disciple.

Glowing stones, particularly those with the hue of blood in which light seems to dwell, hold a place of honor in ancient Persian culture. And when it comes to red stones, none are as red as those of Badakhshan.

The legendary Kuh-i-Lal mines of Badakhshan—a mountainous region now split between Tajikistan and Afghanistan—are the stuff of myth. Overlooking the rushing Panj River, they cling to the cliffs like a lammergeier’s nest winking with eggs of blood. These mines have likely been active since the seventh century, and for a millennium their dark fruits were renowned as a source of high-quality red gemstones*, celebrated by geographers and preachers, courtiers and travelers alike.

“In this province are found the rubies called ‘Balas’... and men dig great caves under the mountain... The stones are dug in the name of the king... who sells them only when he wishes, and thus keeps their value high.”

(Marco Polo, circa 1274)

Among the most prestigious stones of the ancient world, the rubies of Badakhshan (classified as spinel in modern gemology) were the object of desire for Middle Eastern elites for generations. It is said that a Balas ruby was set in the gold ring of the Sassanid kings, and that it possessed the power to protect the crown, the kingdom, and all that lies beneath the sun.

The Muslim conquest of Iran and Central Asia preserved many pre-Islamic traditions while giving them new undertones. Beyond the enduring prestige of Badakhshan stones among the sultans and emperors from Baghdad to Bengal, the red Balas became a cornerstone of Persian poetry. In verse, God is the master jeweler who weaves the pearl of the moon into the ruby-studded harness of the sun; the gems' blood-red hue competes with pomegranate seeds, a drop of wine, or the lips of a youthful cupbearer.

“Lips, like a wounded pomegranate, or the petal of a crimson lily.”

“Cheeks like bursting pomegranates, or two tulip flames made of ruby.”

(Ansari, Herat, 11th century)

The stone’s prestige and the fire within it continued to fascinate poets, emperors, and looters—and those who were all three at once—well into the modern era. Some of the most famous stones in the world, including the “Timur Ruby,” the “Black Prince’s Ruby,” and the “Samarian Spinel” (said to have adorned the neck of the Israelites' Golden Calf), are all Balas stones that almost certainly originated in the legendary mines of Badakhshan.

The Timur Ruby, named for the Turco-Mongol Emir Timur-i-Lang, is perhaps the most famous of them all. Weighing 361 carats, this gemstone is a burning symbol of the dangerous triangle of blood, desire, and power. Throughout its violent history, it passed from king to rebel, sultan to invader, wandering between Samarkand and Delhi, Isfahan and Kandahar, before being plucked by the British from the neck of the crumbling Sikh Empire and set, with dubious honor, as a centerpiece of the British Crown.

Over time, the light of the Central Asian Balas stones dimmed, and the Badakhshan mines were forgotten until their modern rediscovery. The opening of mines in Sri Lanka, Burma, and the New World shifted the patterns of trade. Other stones, primarily corundum—what we call ruby today, and which was not originally distinguished from the Balas—gradually took their place as the sovereign of red gemstones.

Ironically, it was the Balas stones of Badakhshan that bequeathed their glory to the corundum stones that now dominate the global market. A new desire for ancient light drove the search for red stones, once again immortalizing their place on the thin seam between divine light and earthly greed, between mystical transcendence and bloodshed.

In the images:

—The storied “Timur Ruby” as part of the British Crown Jewels.

—Ruby engraved with Timurid, Mughal, and Afghan inscriptions.

—Bahram V wearing a gold crown adorned with rubies.

—Spinel stones (?), Badakhshan 2016.

—Engraved Imperial Mughal ruby, 17th century.

—Raw red spinel.

Notes:

*Actually a deep pink, common among the spinels of Badakhshan.

**Named after Balakshia—an ancient name for the region.