Skip To Content
JEWISH. INDEPENDENT. NONPROFIT.
Back to Opinion

Tattoos Try — and Fail — To Reclaim the Swastika

I’ve always wanted to visit Nashville, Tenn. On my recent trip there, I had every bit as much fun as I suspected I would. But I also saw something that made me gasp out loud.

Downtown, I stumbled upon a tattoo shop. Being a person with tattoos (controversially, a Jew with tattoos), I decided to stop in and do some pricing. Perusing the flash art wall, I saw the typical assortment of symbols, animals, sayings, suggestive cartoons, etc. Then a particular design caught my eye: an eagle’s head with a swastika inside it.

I wondered how I could actually be seeing this. I had been enjoying my trip so much, and this was casting a cloud over it. Do people actually come into the shop to get that terrible symbol inked on them? I wanted to go and say something to the shop staff members, who seemed extremely friendly, but since I was more or less a stranger in a strange land I decided it was best to keep mum.

Back home I told several people about my experience, and they were all appalled. After all, even though bigotry and hatred can happen anywhere, they definitely should not be catered to. I “liked” the company’s page on Facebook so that I could post on it to let staff and patrons know how I felt. My feeling — and hope — was that the design was due to ignorance, since the Jewish population in Nashville is not at all like New York City’s.

I didn’t expect to hear anything from the shop, but just knowing I’d put my feelings out there made me feel better. To my surprise, a response appeared on the page a week later. The commenter said that the symbol is Ancient Sanskrit and represents “peace, prosperity and welfare.” The post went on to say that it is a shame that, because of Nazi Germany, racism is what it evokes in the minds of most people in the West.

Also, one of our artists in the shop is Jewish, the commenter noted.

I was stunned to read this response, and it led me to do an online search to see if there are other people holding to this perception of the symbol. I learned that there is a worldwide campaign to “reclaim” the “innocence” of the swastika. The inspiration? A Canadian poet by the name of Patrick Charles Kemball, aka ManWoman.

In 2001, ManWoman wrote a book called “Gentle Swastika.” Not only had the artist, who in 2012 died of cancer, been trying to change the way people see the swastika, but he had more than 200 of them tattooed on his body. I found three favorable online reviews of this book; one reader noted that her Jewish family members always taught her that the swastika was evil, but reading the book has changed her in a way she “can’t even put into words.” She goes on to highly recommend it.

On November 13, 2013, a “Learn To Love the Swastika” event took place in tattoo parlors all over the world. Held to commemorate the first anniversary of ManWoman’s passing, the event involved artists giving away free swastika tattoos in order to spread “cultural awareness.” The Facebook invite page showed an expected attendance of more than 1,600, along with postings of people’s swastika tattoos — some of them variations or expansions on the symbols — plus books about the meaning of the swastika, and praise for ManWoman.

I realize that the meanings of symbols change throughout the years, but to me, the Holocaust has precluded any other association for this symbol, and I wrote as much in reply to the shop’s Facebook post. Personally, I would never have permanently inked on me a symbol that would give a misleading representation. A few years ago I vetoed getting a rainbow tattoo because of the rainbow’s heavy association with the gay and lesbian community, of which I am not a part.

I am sure there are some people who would want to get the swastika to honor its original meaning for religious purposes, but I think they pale in comparison to people who would use this “reclaiming” as an excuse to wear it for far less noble reasons. In my Brooklyn neighborhood, it would horrify me if I suddenly saw people walking around with swastikas inked on them, let alone if I walked into a tattoo shop and saw someone getting a swastika tattoo. The Nashville shop’s commenter had noted that one of the artists is Jewish. It made me cringe to think of a Jew putting this symbol on anyone — particularly another Jew.

People always say that nothing is black and white, but in this case I think the shades of gray just serve to make everything muddy.

A message from our Publisher & CEO Rachel Fishman Feddersen

I hope you appreciated this article. Before you go, I’d like to ask you to please support the Forward’s award-winning, nonprofit journalism during this critical time.

We’ve set a goal to raise $260,000 by December 31. That’s an ambitious goal, but one that will give us the resources we need to invest in the high quality news, opinion, analysis and cultural coverage that isn’t available anywhere else.

If you feel inspired to make an impact, now is the time to give something back. Join us as a member at your most generous level.

—  Rachel Fishman Feddersen, Publisher and CEO

With your support, we’ll be ready for whatever 2025 brings.

Republish This Story

Please read before republishing

We’re happy to make this story available to republish for free, unless it originated with JTA, Haaretz or another publication (as indicated on the article) and as long as you follow our guidelines. You must credit the Forward, retain our pixel and preserve our canonical link in Google search.  See our full guidelines for more information, and this guide for detail about canonical URLs.

To republish, copy the HTML by clicking on the yellow button to the right; it includes our tracking pixel, all paragraph styles and hyperlinks, the author byline and credit to the Forward. It does not include images; to avoid copyright violations, you must add them manually, following our guidelines. Please email us at [email protected], subject line “republish,” with any questions or to let us know what stories you’re picking up.

We don't support Internet Explorer

Please use Chrome, Safari, Firefox, or Edge to view this site.