When you picture a banknote you probably see crisp paper, a familiar portrait and some fancy security threads. Yet underneath the ink and watermarks, some pieces of money conceal secret pictures, hidden symbols or cheeky Easter eggs that only the most observant eyes spot. In this roundup of 10 banknotes hidden with covert designs, we dive into the fascinating back‑stories of each enigmatic note, from wartime emergency cash to futuristic space currency.
10. Banknotes hidden: Secrets Revealed
10. Germany’s 50-Pfennig Emergency Money
Germany entered World War I already grappling with a shortage of coins and metal. As hostilities erupted in 1914, the price of silver surged and copper and nickel were diverted to armaments, leaving the home front virtually coin‑less. In response, municipalities and private firms began printing their own paper cash, known as notgeld or emergency money, to keep commerce moving.
Early issues of this notgeld were stark, issued in 25, 50 and 75‑pfennig denominations as well as a few marks. Later, the notes blossomed into colorful works of art, featuring folklore, satire, political commentary and even playing‑card motifs. By war’s end, collectors chased these quirky bills as fiercely as they were printed.
For three years after the armistice, many notgeld series were produced solely for collectors, rarely entering everyday circulation. During this period, the “serienscheine” series appeared – a set of notes sharing a common narrative theme. By 1921, hyperinflation had taken hold, and the shortage of any usable currency became acute; even postage stamps sealed in aluminium or celluloid were repurposed as money.
Finally, in 1923 the Reichsbank introduced the Rentenmark, effectively ending the notgeld era and restoring a more stable monetary system.
9. Burmese 1-Kyat Democracy Note
Burma (now Myanmar) endured a civil war that stretched from its 1948 independence well into the 21st century, wreaking havoc on its financial system. Amid the chaos, a particularly striking note emerged – the 1‑kyat “democracy” bill.
General Aung San, the nation’s first de‑facto prime minister, was assassinated just months before the British formally ended their rule. His daughter, Aung San Suu Kyi, was merely two years old at the time. Decades later, Suu Kyi returned to lead a non‑violent campaign for democratic elections, only to be placed under house arrest and silenced, with even her image becoming illegal to display.
In 1989 the military junta released a 1‑kyat note featuring General Aung San’s portrait. The watermark mirrored the front image, but an anonymous engraver subtly softened the general’s features, allowing Suu Kyi’s likeness to appear as a hidden watermark. For the short window before the note was withdrawn, holding it up to the light let reformists glimpse their forbidden leader’s face.
Suu Kyi spent the next two decades under house arrest, won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991, and was finally released in 2010. Two years later her party won a parliamentary majority, marking a dramatic turn in Burmese politics.
8. Oranienburg Concentration Camp’s 50-Pfennig Note
When prisoners arrived at Nazi‑run camps and ghettos during World II, they were forced to swap their cash for “camp scrip,” a low‑quality, almost worthless local currency. The first such scrip was issued by the Oranienburg Concentration Camp, located just outside Berlin.
Oranienburg opened in 1933 after a wealthy banker donated a lumber yard to the regime. Among its earliest inmates was graphic artist Horst‑Willi Lippert, imprisoned for his anti‑Nazi stance. Ordered to design the printing plates for the camp’s money, Lippert embedded a subtle protest within the notes.
His 5‑pfennig note displayed a guard tower looming over barbed wire, the 1‑mark showed an elderly man digging a trench, and the 50‑pfennig featured barbed wire and stern armed guards. After the initial run, Lippert altered the word Konzentrationslager by erasing the top of the “g,” turning it into Konzentrationslayer – a silent accusation that the camps were “concentration killers.” This change is visible in the image above.
The Nazis never detected Lippert’s covert message, and his design became a template for other camp currencies throughout the Reich. Lippert survived the war and later confirmed his acts of quiet resistance.
7. Canada’s $1,000 Devil’s Face Bill
In 1951, Queen Elizabeth II posed for the renowned Canadian photographer Yousuf Karsh. Three years later, one of those portraits was chosen for a new series of Canadian banknotes ranging from $1 to $1,000. The design placed the queen on the right side of each note so that folding wouldn’t obscure her image.
However, the original photograph featured a tiara, which Canadians found too formal. Artists removed the tiara, but they also failed to adjust the lighting behind the queen’s left ear. This oversight created an unintended dark shape that many swore looked like a demon hovering behind her ear. After complaints, the Bank of Canada commissioned artists to obscure the devilish figure, re‑issuing the series in 1957 – except for the $1,000 bill, which remained unchanged for several more years.
The $1,000 note gained notoriety for another reason. In 2000, Canada withdrew large‑denomination notes to combat organized crime, as gangsters favored the “pinkies” (so‑called for their pink hue) for easy smuggling. A million dollars in $100 bills weighs about 10 kg, whereas the same amount in $1,000 bills weighs only 1 kg, making it far more portable for illicit transactions. By 2011, nearly a million of these “pinkies” remained unreturned, hoarded by the criminal elite.
6. Congo’s 20,000‑Zaire Notes
Leadership upheavals often wreak havoc on a nation’s currency. After Belgium granted independence, the newly formed Democratic Republic of the Congo plunged into civil war, and its democratically elected prime minister Patrice Lumumba was assassinated. The CIA‑backed dictator Joseph Mobutu seized power, renaming the country Zaire and amassing a massive personal fortune.
For 31 years Mobutu ruled with an iron fist, siphoning wealth while the nation’s infrastructure crumbled into poverty. When Mobutu was finally overthrown in 1997, he fled to Morocco, where he died of prostate cancer a few months later.
Following the regime change, the country reverted to its original name, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, but faced a severe shortage of banknotes. To bridge the gap, authorities took the existing 20,000‑Zaire notes and punched out Mobutu’s portrait, creating temporary notes that circulated until fresh currency could be printed.
5. Colonial America’s Privately Issued $5 Bill
During the British colonial era, before the American Revolution, local banks produced their own paper money for nearby communities. Early issues were simplistic and easily forged, prompting a shift toward more elaborate designs that incorporated local folklore as an anti‑counterfeiting measure.
One such tale originates from Windham, a small town in eastern Connecticut, during the mid‑1750s French and Indian War. One sweltering June night, townsfolk were startled by a mysterious racket. Believing an enemy raid was imminent, they armed themselves and rushed toward the source, only to discover a pond teeming with hundreds of fighting frogs – half of them dead – battling over a dwindling water supply.
Inspired by this bizarre encounter, the Windham Bank issued a $5 bill depicting a pair of combat‑ready frogs as the central motif. Two women appear on the note as well, likely local figures whose names have been lost to history.
4. Burma’s 35 Kyats
Most countries issue currency in denominations that are multiples of five or ten, but Burma (Myanmar) broke the mold under dictator General U Ne Win, who was fascinated by numerology and eccentric rituals.
Born Shu Maung in 1911, Ne Win joined the Japanese‑backed Burma Independence Army at age 30, later switching sides to drive the Japanese out. After Burma’s 1948 independence, he rose to power, first as a caretaker in 1958 and then as a lifelong ruler after a 1962 coup.
Ne Win’s rule was marked by incompetence and bizarre habits – he walked backward over bridges to ward off evil spirits and allegedly bathed in dolphin blood to extend his life to 90, his lucky number. In 1970 he even reversed traffic flow, moving cars to the right side of the road because an astrologer warned that the nation was becoming “too left‑wing.”
His love of numbers manifested in currency. In 1985 he introduced 15‑, 35‑, and 75‑kyat notes, followed by denominations based on multiples of his favored number, resulting in 45‑ and 90‑kyat bills. After his eventual ouster, these odd denominations were demonetized, and Ne Win died under house arrest at 91.
3. Seychelles 50‑Rupee Note
Queen Elizabeth II appears on the currency of more nations than any other individual, gracing the banknotes of 33 countries in 26 distinct portraits. One lesser‑known example is the 1968 Seychelles 50‑rupee note, which features a portrait based on a 1955 painting commissioned by the Worshipful Company of Fishmongers.
Hidden within the design, the palm trees to the right of the queen subtly spell out the word “sex,” a detail that’s hard to notice at first glance. Initially thought to be a printing error, investigations revealed that the two commissioned artists had drawn the palms correctly; the alteration likely stemmed from the engravers, whose identities remain secret due to anti‑counterfeiting concerns.
A companion 10‑rupee note from the same series also harbors a concealed word – “scum” – tucked beneath the flipper of a sea turtle. Some speculate that pro‑independence activists slipped these hidden messages into the notes to embarrass the British Crown. Both notes stayed in circulation until 1973, three years before Seychelles achieved independence in 1976.
2. The Quasi‑Universal Intergalactic Denomination
Not to be confused with the British slang “quid” for the pound sterling, the Quasi‑Universal Intergalactic Denomination (QUID) was engineered for future space travelers. Shaped like miniature Nerf balls encased in plastic, these tokens were a joint effort by England’s National Space Center and the University of Leicester, commissioned by the foreign‑exchange firm Travelex.
Professor George Fraser of Leicester explained that conventional payment methods—cash, credit or debit cards—would fail in space. Sharp edges on coins could damage equipment, while magnetic strips and chips would be ruined by cosmic radiation. Moreover, the vast distances involved (over 230,000 miles to the Moon) render chip‑and‑PIN technology impractical.
QUIDs are crafted from Teflon, a polymer resistant to extreme temperatures and radiation, and feature rounded edges. Each sphere displays the Sun at its core, with the eight planets orbiting around its rim, each marked with a unique code akin to serial numbers on paper money. In 2007, a single QUID was valued at $12.50, €8.68, or £6.25.
Competition soon emerged: In 2013 PayPal announced efforts to develop its own interplanetary monetary system that would operate without traditional cards, currency or QUIDs.
1. Germany’s 10,000‑Mark Reichsbanknote
After the 1919 Treaty of Versailles formally ended World I, Germany faced crippling reparations that shattered its economy. The nation lost valuable coal‑rich territories such as the Saar (placed under League of Nations control) and Upper Silesia (ceded to Poland), making economic recovery virtually impossible.
Furthermore, Germany was forced to accept sole responsibility for the war, funneling billions of marks to France, Belgium and other Allied nations. With the economy already in tatters, the government resorted to printing ever‑larger denominations, spiralling into hyperinflation. A single mark bought virtually nothing, prompting the issuance of massive notes.
By 1922 the Reichsbank released a 10,000‑mark note featuring Albrecht Dürer’s painting “Portrait of a Young Man.” However, an anonymous engraver inserted a subtle political jab: a hooded vampire, symbolising France, lurked behind the young man’s left shoulder, ready to “suck” his blood. Tilting the note to the right reveals the faint figure. Even after the vampire’s presence was discovered, the Reichsbank refused to withdraw the notes and even reissued more with the hidden creature intact.
The economic fallout was stark. In January 1922 a 10,000‑mark note could purchase 110 kg of meat; by year‑end the same note bought only 2 kg. By 1923, 100,000 marks equaled one US dollar, and a year later that dollar was worth 4.62 million marks. The hyperinflation era eventually gave way to the Rentenmark, stabilising the currency.