The Rothschild family is arguably the most famous European banking dynasty in modern history. In the late 18th century, Mayer Amschel Rothschild, the family patriarch, founded his first banking house in the German town of Frankfurt. His sons expanded the bank into a multinational enterprise, and, with their newfound wealth, the Rothschilds were able to influence their local economies. One Rothschild loan paid off French war indemnities in the 1870s, while another allowed the British government to become the powerful Suez Canal Company’s primary shareholder. However, the Rothschild family’s rapid accumulation of wealth and power was met with one odious reaction: rampant anti-Semitism. As a Jewish family, the Rothschilds have been targeted by conspiracy theorists as a prime example of Jews allegedly using their money to control global financial institutions. These claims have been roundly condemned and proven false, but they continue to persist. What are the origins of the anti-Semitism directed at the Rothschild family, and how have these conspiracy theories resurfaced in the 21st century?
In 2015 the British newspaper The Independent published an investigation of anti-Semitic claims against the Rothschilds. Journalism professor Brian Cathcart traced the first widespread conspiracy theory to a political pamphlet called Histoire édifante et curieuse de Rothschild Ier, roi des juifs, which began rolling off European printing presses in 1846. Written by Georges Dairnvaell under the pseudonym “Satan,” this pamphlet narrates the history of the Rothschild family and its influence in Europe. According to Cathcart, its most famous passage details Nathan Rothschild’s involvement in the Battle of Waterloo on June 18, 1815. Immediately after the battle, according to the pamphlet, Rothschild was rushed to the Belgian coast and paid a fortune to cross the English Channel in the middle of a thunderstorm. He arrived in London 24 hours before news of Napoleon’s defeat was officially announced, “Satan” claims, and, as a result, he “suddenly won 20 million [francs], while his other brothers seconded him; the total profit made in this fatal year amounted to 135 MILLION!”
Although this account became instantly popular across Europe, it was both false and dangerous. Cathcart’s research found that on June 18, 1815, Nathan Rothschild was nowhere near Waterloo. There were no reports of a storm over the English Channel at that time. And while the Rothschilds did profit immensely off the war effort against Napoleon, they did not make millions from announcing the Allied victory at Waterloo. The fact that these claims were so readily believed draws on the pernicious history of European anti-Semitism.
Many respectable institutions have fallen prey to Dairnvaell’s pamphlet. The Encyclopædia Britannica is among them. In Volume XXIII of the 11th edition (1910–11), the entry on ”Rothschild” states that “he is said to have been present at the battle of Waterloo,” and “being able to transmit to London private information of the allied success several hours before it reached the public, he effected an immense profit by the purchase of stock, which had been depressed on the news of Blucher’s defeat two days previously.” Having chronicled Dairnvaell’s pamphlet as fact, Britannica’s 11th edition helped to perpetuate a conspiracy theory about the Rothschilds.
Cathcart’s article in The Independent is not alone in its exposé and criticism of anti-Semitic tropes surrounding the Rothschild family. After World War II, Western media and academia made significant strides in educating the public on how anti-Semitism is often perpetuated. However, there is clearly still work to be done. In March 2018 The Washington Post reported that Washington, D.C., lawmaker Trayon White, Sr., alleged on Facebook that the Rothschilds “[control] the climate to create natural disasters they can pay for to own the cities.” His post refers to Internet conspiracy theories surrounding the Rockefeller Foundation’s Resilient Cities initiative, which rewards cities for addressing environmental concerns in their community. After intense controversy, White issued an apology and confessed his ignorance regarding the origin of the claims. He worked with Jewish activist organizations to learn more about anti-Semitism. But his visit that April to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum—presumably as an act of contrition—was catastrophic. According to the Post, White made several comments that were widely panned as insensitive at best, and he abruptly left the museum halfway through his tour. He refused to comment on the reason for his departure.
White’s anti-Semitic treatment of the Rothschilds and his ignorance of Jewish suffering is reprehensible. Unfortunately, his story shows us that conspiracy theories about the Rothschilds have only grown more outlandish since the publication of Dairnvaell’s infamous pamphlet. And not unlike the editors of Britannica’s 11th edition, White is among a number of influential figures who—knowingly or unknowingly—are complicit in spreading these conspiracy theories. Although anti-Semitic attacks on the Rothschild family have been thoroughly disproved, they have revealed themselves to be embedded in the Western cultural subconscious. Those who contribute to this form of anti-Semitism must make a sustained effort to root it out.