Jew with a coin

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"Jews with coins" on sale in Poland, bearing the name of the spa village of Polańczyk. The middle figurine reads: "Polańczyk $ Jew In the hall, coin in your pocket".

"Jew with a coin" (Żyd z pieniążkiem), "little Jews" (Żydki), or "lucky Jew" ("Żyd na szczęście") are controversial images or figurines of a Jew holding a coin, usually accompanied by a proverb. The motif was first described in articles from 2000, and probably dates back to after the 1989 transition of Polish government. As of the early 21st century, they are found in shops and homes in Poland. While highly recognizable, most Poles neither own the figurines, and a 2015 survey found that only 19% of surveyed Poles owned such an item, with further only 16% using it as good luck charm, the tradition of using one being weakly based in cultural context, especially compared to use of other good luck charms.

Scholars offer various interpretations of the motif's nature and origin, though they generally agree that many modern Poles see the motif as a talisman for financial luck.Most Poles do view them as good luck charm used to protect family or closed ones from bad luck, as a regional souvenir/piece of art, with financial luck being chosen only at third place. The images draw on a traditional antisemitic canard of the Jewish moneylender. Opinions about the motif vary; some cultural studies scholars believe it promotes Polish–Jewish dialogue or view it as harmless folklore or nostalgia, while others believe it is an antisemitic and offensive stereotype.

Usage and customs

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Paintings of Jews holding a coin

According to a 2015 survey in Poland, 65 percent of respondents stated that they saw a image/painting of a Jewish person holding money or bag with money, and 18 percent of respondents had such a painting at home; recognition of the symbol does not vary with respondent age, indicating that the practice started recently. About 50 percent of the surveyed identified the motif with financial success; others pointed more generally to it being a 'lucky symbol', or just to it being a folk decoration. While widely recognized, according to Paweł Dobrosielski, a survey showed that only 19 percent of surveyed Poles possessed such item and 16 percent confirmed its use. He notes that the practice of using the figurines for good luck is not strongly attached in cultural traditions, especially compared to use of other good luck charms or traditions, where 39% of Poles confirmed using or practicing at least one of the five traditional ones. Paweł Dobrosielski concludes that, while the traditional good luck charms or gestures are seen part of everyday cultural practices, the Jewish figures are not seen as a concurrent part of those traditions.

The figurines are used as a good luck charm in the hope of becoming rich, as well as good luck charms by football fans who then blame Jews if their team loses.

The figurines are often given as gifts. Some owners of the images turn them upside down on the Sabbath (Friday night or Saturdays) some placing a coin (grosz, 1/100 of a złoty) behind the image so money and good fortune may fall upon the household. At homes the images are often placed in the entrance hall to the left of the door. Additionly, the figurines are placed in offices and in shops next to cash registers. According to a 2015 survey in Poland, 50 percent respondents knew of the superstition of good fortune, 24 percent of the custom to place a grosz behind the frame, and 13 percent of turning it upside down on the Sabbath.

The motif is often a accompanied with one of few sayings. The saying Żyd w sieni, pieniądz w kieszeni ("Jew in the hall, coin in your pocket"), has roots pre-dating the Second World War. The original meaning of the saying was that at long as the Jew stayed at the entrance of the house the money in the house remained safe, but in contemporary popular usage the meaning has been reversed: the Jew in the hall brings fortune to the house. Joanna Tokarska-Bakir stresses that "Given the power of connotations associated with contemporary history, this maxim takes on a bitter meaning, as it alludes to how Poles enriched themselves when they protected the Jews". The saying Kto nie ma w domu Żyda, temu bida ("He who has no Jew at home is moneyless") is based on Kiedy bida, to do Żyda ("When poverty is there, go to the Jew"), referring originally to Jewish moneylenders and also dating prior to World War II.Modern variants have also arisen and accompany the motif, for instance: Aby kasa w domu była, I się nigdy nie skonczyła, Żyda w domu trzeba mieć  ! We pieniędzy będzie strzec ("So that the money stays at home, and that it does not leave, keep a Jew in your house, he will keep the cash").

Jewish figurines are not limited to Poland; small figurines of Jews have also been sold in Israel and North America.

Ethnographic analysis

Origins

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Figurines of Orthodox Jewish men in Kraków Cloth Hall, the one on the left is holding a bag and a coin

Research by Erica Lehrer, who curated the Souvenir, Talisman, Toy exhibit at the Ethnographic Museum of Kraków, shows that while figurines of Jews existed in the past in Poland the contemporary figurines connecting traditionally dressed Jews with financial motifs like coins is recent. Prior to World War II, Jewish figurines were present in Christmas and Easter rituals and in particular in the Emaus Easter market fair in Kraków. During the communist era in Poland figurines of Jews were available for sale in the Cepelia ethnic art stores. The figurines with the coins were first described in articles from 2000 whose authors state the phenomenon is recent, and that the figurines probably date back to the times following the transition of government in 1989.

Scholars have looked at a number of dimensions of the "Jew with a coin" figurines, paintings and associated products. One of those is the stereotypical connection between Jews and money. According to Polish scholar of Jewish history, Bożena Umińska-Keff, while Jews were stereotypically associated with money and financial gain for many centuries, the rise of the coin imagery in post-communist Poland is not coincidental as Jews have become equated in Poland with success in the capitalistic West that post-1989 Poland aspires to catch up to. Sociologist Ewa Tartakowsky ties the popularity of the figurines to the even more recent growth of public discourse on the Holocaust in Poland, that began with Jan T. Gross's publication of Neighbors: The Destruction of the Jewish Community in Jedwabne, Poland (2001).

According to historian and sociologist Alina Cała, three points of reference stand out in the figurines. The first is reminiscent of figurines in the traditional Emaus Easter fair, the second is black magic, whereas the third is the traditional antisemitic caricature of Jewish moneylender which was exploited in Nazi and antisemitic Polish iconography. However, whereas classical moneylender tropes often presented assimilated Jews the current Polish figurines present Jews in traditional Orthodox dress. Cała also notes that, most likely after a complaint from a tourist, currently the figurines being sold in the Kazimierz neighborhood feature the Star of David instead of a coin.

According to Polish anthropologist Joanna Tokarska-Bakir, the figurines fill a role similar to a series of other domestic demons – in this case protecting Polish homes that were "purified of Jews". Tokarska-Bakir that given that Polish society has enriched itself as a result of the "disappearance" of the Jews, the custom is grotesque – a demonism transformed into a triviality. Turning to Sigmund Freud's Totem and Taboo, Tokarska-Bakir contrasts the Polish custom with totemic religion which is the product of guilty sons attempting to atone for the founding murder of legendary horde leaders. Cast in this manner, Tokarska-Bakir considers the grotesque practice as less irrational – the protection of the home by the Jew who was expelled from the home being a twisted sign of moral initiation. Tokarska-Bakir's analysis, first published in the weekend edition of Gazeta Wyborcza, elicited a few indignant responses. Paweł Jędrzejewski of the Forum of Polish Jews rejected the claims of antisemitism of the figures and pointed out desire to obtain wealth and positive image of Jews as being professional and high income of Jewish Americans. Ethnologist Ludwik Stomma, described her analysis as "it is difficult to have something more tangled up" and suggested her views are based on outdated 19th century work. Stomma pointed out that some of the definitions used by Tokarska-Bakir are difficult to understand, such as "father substitute" or "freed women". According to Stomma, Tokarska-Bakir should know that there were never "totemic religions". In response, Tokarska-Bakir said that long after readers will remember Sigmund Freud long after they forget Stomma.

Cultural studies scholar Paweł Dobrosielski, who performs a vernacular culture analysis, reaches the same conclusion as Tokarska-Bakir. Dobrosielski states the motif draws on prior Jews and money stereotypes, but tamed and redirected to a positive meaning in supporting Poles seeking wealth. Dobrosielski sees the motif as a "reaction to the feeling of isolation produced by the highly complex Polish discourse on the Holocaust, and simultaneously by the internalization (via taking into account common interpretations) and contestation (via inverting its meaning) of that discourse". According to Pawel Dobrosielski the image disturbs mostly researchers and publicists, and for most Poles the Jew with a coin seems harmless, friendly practice connected to positive view of Jews. Dobrowolski writes that the debate among academics is conducted in an isolated circulation, where specialist knowledge invokes context of multilayered history of antisemitic prejudice, which is however absent from practice real social life. Dobrowolski also notes that high recognition of the figures could be influenced by the very debate by scholars which made them visible to public audience.

According to Tartakowsky, even if the figurines are not an expression of antisemitism, they are affected by the dis-inhibition of xenophobic rhetoric and marking of those designated as "enemies of the state". Tartakowsky notes that freedom of expression in post-1989 Poland is reflective of the American model, as opposed to the French one, favoring freedom of expression over the outlawing of hate speech. Tartakowsky ties the placement of the image to the left of the doorway to likely mockery of the mezuzah in Jewish custom. Tartakowsky notes the reappropriation of Jewish figurines is deeply ambiguous, but is troubling due to the modern political context and stereotyping.

According to Umińska-Keff, while the phenomena of antisemitism lacks recognition in modern Poland, the old antisemitic myths are still repeated and are even perceived as factual. Umińska-Keff asserts that the imagery and superstitions surrounding the figurines contain all the basic elements of antisemitism – a non-personalized soulless man embodied by money, and sees the figurines as part of a wider tradition of antisemitic stereotypes in Poland (Jewish sorcerers, Jews making blood from children, Judensau, Żydokomuna, etc.).

Johnny Daniels, an activist promoting the dialogue between Jews and Poles, said he considers such items an "insensitive but ultimately harmless expression of nostalgia", comparable to the cigar store Indian in the United States. According to Simon Wiesenthal Center's director for international relations, Shimon Samuels, an underlying superstition regarding Jews lays behind the figurines. Samuels likened them to a phantom limb for modern day Poland. Due to the lack of a sizeable Jewish in the country, the figurines therefore serve as a legacy of persistent Jewish caricatures.

Impact and use

According to Lehrer, some Jews who travel to Poland often see the figurines as "inflammatory and shocking, and mostly it gets read in the context of antisemitism". Lehrer says that while one can not understand the figurines with the coin without referring to the history of antisemitic imagery, the figurines are rooted in a long history that is more complex than just antisemitism. According to Lehrer, the folk artists creating the figurines, especially the older ones, treat the figurines with artistic, sensitive treatment. One use of the charms is as tourist keepsakes and tokens of nostalgic or political attempt to connect with Jewish past, whereas a second use is as a good luck charm bringing prosperity. Lehrer states that the figurines are seen in Polish folk society as innocent and even complimentary towards Jewish people, and that most do not realize such items might be controversial. Lehrer also says that the figurines "embody some bits of historical memory of Jews as seen through their mostly peasant neighbours' eyes – but mixed with myth, sometimes nostalgia, and after the war, occasionally empathy." Lehrer notes that these tourist souvenirs invoke ambivalent reaction among Jewish tourists; and buyers reactions range from revulsion to wonder.

Joanna Michlic sees the use of Jews as "good luck charms" as transformation of a prior negative stereotype of Jewish money-lending into positive stereotype of a Jewish businessman which Poles should imitate for success. Michlic notes that the items are popular, presented as gifts, and in some circles are a "must item" in private businesses. According to Michlic this has led to a new group of Polish artists specializing in these artifacts, which create kitschy works to fulfill market demand. Michlic states that placing a positive spin on old antisemitic stereotypes is not unique to Poland, but also takes place in other post-communist eastern European countries such as Romania.

Historian Magdalena Waligórska associates the paintings and sculptures with black magic, seeing them as serving an amulet function in a country now almost devoid of Jews.

Musicologist and Jewish studies scholar Halina Goldberg notes that while the phenomena may be fascinating from commercial and ethnographic sense, it "is troubling that the most prevalent Polish image of Jewishness, one that is imprinted on the minds of people who know no other Jews, is that of the traditionally attired Orthodox Jew who has the power to control one's financial fortunes."

Exhibits and performances

The 2013 Souvenir, Talisman, Toy exhibit at the Ethnographic Museum of Kraków, curated by Erica Lehrer, explored the development of Jewish figurines in general and the "Jew with a coin" in particular. The exhibit was subsequently extended and displayed at the Galicia Jewish Museum. The subsequent Lucky Jews / Na szczęście to Żyd book is an extended version of the exhibit catalog, and also contains a collection of letters sent to Polish authorities by Jews around the world that are outraged at the motif.

As part of the 2017 Jewish Culture Festival in Kraków, inaugurating Festivalt site-specific events, a trio of street performers dressed in traditional Orthodox garb sat behind a desk, surrounded by a mock picture frame, and laden with old-style inkwell, accounting ledger and quill pen. Bringing the figurines to life, the performers offered "good fortune" to passerby in exchange for a few coins. One of the performers, Michael Rubenfeld, continued performing in 2018.

In 2019, the Jewish Museum London ran an exhibit titled Jews, Money, Myth exploring antisemitic imagery linking Jews with money. Alongside manifestations of antisemitic imagery dating back to Judas and Thirty pieces of silver, the exhibit featured a display case of the popular Polish "Lucky Jew" ceramic figurines.

See also

• Mammy archetype
• Maneki-neko
• Jim Crow Museum of Racist Memorabilia
• Antisemitic canard

External links

• Lucky Jews online site for 2013 Souvenir, Talisman Toy exhibition at Ethnographic Museum of Kraków, curated by Erica Lehrer
• Lucky Jews Jason Francisco, description of Festivalt performance at annual Jewish Culture Festival in Kraków.