While the German-Jewish naming matrix is actually quite a simple one, some basic knowledge about German society during the late Medieval period and the early Renaissance is required to form an understanding of how Germanic-Jewish names came into being, and the mentality behind Jewish naming conventions in those days.

For starters, Jews arrived in what later became Germany at the beginning of the fourth century, settling permanently around large centers of population along the Rhine and Danube rivers. Little is known of these Jewish colonies during Roman times, except that they engaged in activities of trade and money lending. What is certain, is that the Jewish enclaves persisted in Germany after the fall of the Western Roman Empire in 476 AD, clearly identifiable by their manner of dress, their language and their – to the Germanic people – strange-sounding names.

By the beginning of the 10th century, Jews held a de facto monopoly on moneylending throughout the newly formed Holy Roman Empire, due to their ability to operate outside the Catholic Church’s strict prohibitions against usury. This made European Jewry both sought-after and shunned, as their services and funds were needed by everyone from merchants to the nobility, but their ruthless business practices were often seen as detrimental to the local populations.

From the German populace’s perspective, any group of people who’d been around for hundreds of years, but had failed to integrate into local society, was immediately and justifiably suspect. Add to this the Jews’ reputation for being ruthless and unfair in their business with non-Jews, and it becomes easy to understand why the Germans’ view of Jewry was unfavorable.

When tensions among Germany’s Christian population began to mount, Jews were made subject to higher tax rates, and Judenmeister (Jew Masters) were appointed by local governments to protect Jewish privileges against an increasingly disgruntled German populace who felt disenfranchised and exploited by the Jewish moneylenders.

The situation came to a head in 1096 AD, when the first of many attacks on Jewish communities by the German populace are reckoned to have killed some 12,000 Jews in the country’s major centers of population. These numbers are likely inflated, as is most of the historic body-count associated with anti-Jewish actions through the centuries. But be that as it may, periodic attacks on Jewish communities around Germany continued to escalate well into the 15^th century.

Anti-Jewish violence and sentiment were further stoked by the widespread perception of Jews as self-absorbed, arrogant and aloof toward the native Germanic population. Indeed, numerous medieval sources state that Jews look upon their hosts as no more than servants and a means of deriving profit. And so the cauldron of anti-Jewish public sentiment continued to bubble until the 16^th century.

Then, beginning in 1517, Martin Luther’s reformation of the German church marked a turning-point for Jews in Germany, because Luther was vehemently anti-Jewish. In his treatise “Von den Jüden und ihren Lügen” (of the Jews and their Lies) Luther refers to Jews as “poisonous envenomed worms” and goes on to state that Jews are “base, whoring people, that is, no people of God, and their boast of lineage, circumcision, and law must be accounted as filth… full of the devil’s feces… which they wallow in like swine”, and the synagogue is an “incorrigible whore and an evil slut…. these poisonous envenomed worms should be drafted into forced labor or expelled for all time. We are at fault in not slaying them.”

Clearly Martin Luther was no man to mince words.

It is perhaps unsurprising that an already disaffected German populace took to Luther’s words with great enthusiasm by attacking Jewish communities, burning synagogues, and expelling Jews from many cities.

It was during the throes of Luther’s reformation that German Jews took a new approach to their names, so as to blend better into local society, a means of camouflage, if you will.

Previous to Luther’s scathing attacks on Jewry and the Talmud, the Jews of Germany largely went by biblical and Hebrew names, a trend which obviously made them easy to identify by their Germanic neighbors. However, around the middle of the 16^th century, shortly after the reformation, we begin to see local Jews adopt German-language names, en-masse.

Whereas before this time, most Jews would go by single names, like Ahron, Elchanan, Malachi, etc. they now chose to be known by both first and surnames. Many – especially among the more prosperous Jewry – took on the names of their professions. A jeweler might call himself Edelstein (Gemstone,) while a banker would become Bankmann, and a changer Wechsler.

However, the German names adopted by always stood apart from their actual German counterparts, whether this be through some self-perceived sense of superiority to their German neighbors, or for some other, unknown reason.

German, you see, is a very literal language. If someone is a butcher, he’ll call himself “Butcher,” not “He who says the beasts and offers their flesh for sale,” or some such linguistic foolishness. So while a German butcher would adopt the literal surname Metzger, or Fleischer, a Jewish butcher would be more likely to call himself Fleischmann (lit. Meat Man.) Similarly, a Germanic teacher would call himself Lehrer, while his Jewish equivalent would become Schulmann (lit. School Man.)

Other Jews, particularly those of the lower social orders, though some more affluent ones too, would choose their names from local landmarks, geographic features, animals, or even store signage. Here we get names like Tannenweg (Pine Path,) Blumenfeld (Flower Field,) Hirschhorn (Deer Horn/Antler,) and the infamous Rothschild¹ (Red Shield.)

Overall, the Germanic-Jewish naming matrix is basically a simple two-column affair:

English Translation	Animal, Vegetable, Mineral, Color, etc.	Geographic Feature, Landmark, Item, etc.	English Translation
Flower	Blumen	Berg	Mountain
Rose	Rosen	Stein	Stone
Pine	Tannen	Wald	Forest
Deer	Hirsch	Bach	Brook/Creek
Lion	Löwen	Baum	Tree
Rabbit/Hare	Hasen	Mann	Man
Black	Schwarz	Thal	Valley
Green	Grün	Glass	Glass
Red	Roth	Lieb	Love, also Lion
Meadow	Wiesen	Horn	Horn
Apple	Apfel	Rad	Wheel
Gold/Silver	Gold/Silber	Heim	Home
Mirror	Spiegel	Blatt	Leaf
Wine	Wein	Dorf	Village
Sugar	Zucker	Kranz	Wreath

Basically you pick any word from Column A and suffix it with any word from Column B, for your instant-Jewish name. These names are all quite easy to spot, as they bear no relevance to any profession or any German place-name. The rule of thumb here is: If it sounds Jewish and it’s not a profession, it’s Jewish.

Then again, German also contains a number of traditional occupational names that sound Jewish, but are not. One such occupation is “Bergbauer” (Mountain Farmer,) which, although sounding like an archetypal Jewish name, is not traditionally associated with Jews. Hofmann (Court Man) and Lehmann (Vassal) are two more medieval names that basically fit Ashkenazi naming conventions, while being anything but Jewish. Hufschmidt (Hoof Smith) also falls into the category of names derived from old professions.

Other names, mainly derived from places of origin, such as Mannheimer, Hamburger, Münchner, tend to be of ordinary German nature, based on places of origin for the family of whoever carries these names. Hammerstein, too, while sounding exceedingly Jewish, is actually an old municipality in the Rhineland, as well as minor German nobility.

In summary, while German-Jewish names are usually quite easy to spot, it pays to take a few moments to ascertain whether or not you’re dealing with an old profession or appellation that was around before the time of Luther’s reformation. Further, if you’re dealing with any financially or precious metal and gemstone oriented, name, chances are you’re looking at an old upper-tier Jewish family. The same applies for double-barrel names that follow the formula given in the above table.

And lastly, on a more global note, the German-Jewish tendency to “blend in better” through name changes has since been replicated and refined around the world. Indeed, looking at America these days, it’s become almost impossible to tell the country’s Jewish population from the rest, by name alone. One needs only take a glance at Hollywood, to find any number of celebrities who not only anglicized their Germanic Jewish names² to better fit in, but who changed their names to wholly Anglo-Saxon monikers to hide their ethnological/ancestral identities altogether.

¹ Note that there are also Schwarzschilds (Black,) Blauschilds (Blue,) Hochschilds (High,) etc.

² Such as Grünblatt to Greenblatt, or Blumenfeld to Bloomfield, for instance.