Jews, Money, Myth, Jewish Museum London review

From medieval depictions of Judas and Shakespeare’s Skylock, right up to modern day conspiracies surrounding banking, Jews, Money, Myth unpicks the falsehoods and stereotypes linking Jews and money, presenting a complex story that covers over 2,000 years of history.

The exhibition begins with a remarkable survival from Egypt; a begging letter from a blind man, dated c.1090. In the letter, which was most likely dictated, the man appeals to his community for money, so that his family can pay the boat fare to join him from Alexandria. It is such a personal insight into one man’s life as well as the importance of charity in the Jewish faith.

We move on to the story of Judas Iscariot, who is said to have betrayed Jesus with a kiss for the sum of 30 pieces of silver. Over the centuries, Judas became a Christian symbol of self-serving greed and the vehicle for a pernicious stereotype. He appears in manuscripts and on stained glass windows with a red beard, dressed in yellow, both apparently symbols of his treacherous nature. But there is more to this tale, as illustrated by an early painting by Rembrandt. Rembrandt chose not to depict the moment of betrayal, but a later scene, as Judas returns the coins in an act of regret.

Under medieval law in England, Jewish citizens and their businesses were the property of the king. Because money lending was strongly denounced by the Christian church at the time, Jews were encouraged to step into the role, but were heavily taxed as a source of income for the crown. When usury was banned under Edward I in 1275, they no longer lived under royal protection, and were expelled from England in 1290, the first such case in Europe.

(Detail) Ketubah (Jewish marriage certificate) Calcutta, 1911 © Jewish Museum London

The exhibition guides us through the centuries with displays of grotesque caricatures of both rich and poor Jews in Europe. There is an anti-Semitic board game for children, unpleasant depictions of the Rothchilds and images of street peddlers. In the final room we reach the 20th century and the propaganda posters that were rife in Europe in the run up to the second world war, as well as documents detailing the British government's unwillingness to accept poor Jewish children fleeing Nazi Germany, lest they become a burden on the state.

There is also a newly commissioned video by artist Jeremy Deller, which examines Jewish stereotypes in the 21st century through a compilation of clips taken from popular culture. They include scenes from Family Guy and public addresses by Donald Trump, as well as some disturbing footage taken at a grotesquely anti-Semitic parade in Belgium this year.

This exhibition, which has been two years in the making, offers an important insight into the history behind Jewish stereotypes with an unflinching narrative and some fascinating documents. That this is a complex subject is highlighted by small sections of wall text detailing conversations between the curators in the development of the show. These are easy to miss, but bring – in the words of the museum's director Abigail Morris – the Jewish love of debate to the story. It’s a brilliant touch and one that other institutions might consider. No history, after all, should be told with just one voice.