Jew with a coin
[1] It is advised to turn them upside down on the Sabbath (Friday night[15] or Saturdays[17]) or place a coin (grosz, 1/100 of a złoty) behind the image so that money and good fortune may fall upon the household.
The saying Żyd w sieni, pieniądz w kieszeni ("Jew in the hall, coin in your pocket"), has roots pre-dating the Second World War.
[1] 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".
[7] Dobrosielski notes with surprise that few respondents saw the image at shops (27%), the internet (21%), or service location such as restaurants (12%) while multiple academic and journalistic pieces have stated it is ubiquitous in such places.
Dobrosielski explains the discrepancy by suggesting that the motif, which is often on small objects, is easy to miss in a location with a multitude of other items in particular when customers have an intent to purchase something else.
[7] In June 2021 the city of Kraków announced its plans to ban the sale of Jew with a Coin figurines in public events,[19] A statement was made[by whom?]
that: "A Jew for Fortune" falls within the broad spectrum of discriminatory attitudes in which ridicule, scorn, and caricature bear traces of anti-Semitism.
Representatives of the art community, Members of the European Parliament, academics involved with ethnology, sociology, history or Jewish studies, urban activists, Jews from Poland and abroad have written appeals regarding these controversial mementos...
[20]The decision follows the report of the 48-member round table Towards the Phenomenon of the "Lucky Jew" in Poland, which examined the phenomena and announced that "the presence of Jewish figurines with money in souvenir stores and fairs is unequivocally perceived as a proof of lack of reflection and sensitivity in the area of the so-called 'difficult heritage'... [the] participants declare that the city, which lost almost all of its Jewish inhabitants as a result of World War II, must take all possible steps to prevent the presence of this phenomenon in the public space.
Tokarska-Bakir says 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.
[1] Dobrosielski states the motif draws on prior Jewish and money stereotypes, but tamed and redirected to a positive meaning in supporting Poles seeking wealth.
Dobrosielski 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 in real social life.
[21] Johnny Daniels, an activist promoting the dialogue between Jews and Poles, said he considers such items an "insensitive but ultimately [a] harmless expression of nostalgia", comparable to the cigar store Indian in the United States.
According to the Simon Wiesenthal Center's director for international relations, Shimon Samuels, an underlying superstition regarding Jews lays behind the figurines.
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.
[24] 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.
"[26] 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.
[7] Concurrent to 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.
Alongside manifestations of antisemitic imagery dating back to Judas and the thirty pieces of silver, the exhibit featured a display case of the popular Polish "Lucky Jew" ceramic figurines.
