Others felt that the document fell short of the necessary measures. Wien advocated a boycott of English journals and establishing rules prohibiting the use of English words in German scientific papers. Lenard, who donated the money he’d received with the Royal Society’s Rumford Medal to the families of fallen soldiers, favored a more strongly worded document. Lenard had by this time severed old ties with J. J. Thompson, believing that the Cambridge don had given him insufficient credit for his work on the electron. Lenard’s 1914 booklet, “England and Germany in the Time of the Great War,” attacked German scientists for too often crediting English investigators for discoveries made in Germany.
Equating the veracity of Englishmen with that of Jews, Lenard warned that should the enemy perceive any sign of weakness,
The English gentlemen will smile internally with pleasure over our timidity when they see the Proclamation. Externally, they will naturally pull some sort of swindle. Should something really forcefully be done, I will be happy to participate. I think these liars are not worth the waste of time, except with cannons.
The actions of the “ninety-three” were amplified when, on October 16, 1914, four thousand university teachers, nearly all of the faculty members of the fifty-three German universities, signed “The Declaration of University Teachers of the German Empire.” The intent of the Declaration was to remove any doubt in the minds of Germany’s enemies: German academics stood foursquare with their national army; there was no philosophical division between the thinking of German professors and that of the German military.
Perhaps because of his Swiss citizenship, or possibly because his contrary views were well known, Einstein was not asked to sign either the “Manifesto” or the “Declaration.” He was the antithesis of a patriotic nationalist, an internationalist who believed that overweening nationalism—especially as practiced in his native Germany—led to unchecked militarism. An armed German military bolstered by universal military conscription was a threat to European stability.
Shocked by the destruction of the Leuven library, angry about the anti-British sentiments expressed by some of the signers, and outraged by the chauvinistic attitudes of many of his colleagues, Einstein joined with a physician friend, Georg Friedrich Nicolai, to write a countermanifesto, “An Appeal to the Europeans.” The purpose of the “Appeal” was to advocate for peace in Europe and the honoring of existing borders among countries; it drew only four signatures. The document was never published in Germany. Its publication outside of Germany was delayed until 1917, and it quickly disappeared from public consciousness.
The Leuven matter and the prolonged deprivations of the Great War polarized Germany’s scientists into opposing camps. As Einstein became more active as an internationalist and pacifist, Lenard grew more reactionary. Amid Germany’s postwar economic deterioration and the consequent decline in his own finances, Lenard embraced the popular notion that it was the socialists and Jews who were pulling the strings of government and laying waste to the German economy. In the aftermath of World War I and over the next fifteen years, Lenard developed his beliefs about the distinctions between the Aryan scientific mind and that of the alien “other.”
The 1934 publication of the first volume of Deutsche Physik must have been a tremendous catharsis for the seventy-two-year-old scientist. Although Lenard’s expressed purpose in writing Deutsche Physik was to summarize a lifetime of lectures on experimental physics—which by all accounts were virtuoso performances—he wrote the foreword to the first volume as a crystallization of his philosophy of Aryan scientific supremacy. Headed by an unattributed epigram—“The foreword stems from today’s conflict / The work seeks value infinite”—the author, more explicitly than ever before, communicated his alarm about the threat the “Jewish spirit” posed to the purity of the natural sciences and, hence, all of German culture. Deutsche Physik was based on several principles that Lenard took to be inviolable.
First, all worthy scientific discoveries were attributable to Aryans. Non-Aryan science might initially be based on the successes of Aryans, but over time, each non-Aryan culture or ethnicity developed distinctive hallmarks of inferiority:
[No] people ever embarked on scientific research without basing themselves on the fertile ground of already existing Aryan achievements. . . . The racial characteristics of these foreign forms only become recognizable after they have developed over a longer period. Based on the available literature, one could, perhaps, already talk about Japanese physics. Arabian physics existed in the past. Nothing has yet emerged about Negro physics. Jewish physics has developed and become prevalent, which has only rarely been recognized until now.
Second, meaningful science was based on experimentation. Aryan research began and ended with observation and measurement. Simplicity, grounded in nature, was a hallmark of Deutsche Physik. In contrast, scientific theories based on mathematical representations were antithetical to Aryan science in that they failed Lenard’s test of “common sense.” They resided only in the abstract. They contributed nothing new. They baffled rather than illuminated.
All the well-verified knowledge of inorganic nature can be found here [in Deutsche Physik] in a uniform and totally coherent text. . . . The unspoiled German national spirit [Volksgeist] seeks depth; it seeks theoretical foundations consistent with nature and irrefutable knowledge of the cosmos. . . . Thinking along with nature—following its processes systematically—is very seldom done correctly. Usually you are confronted with formulae instead. It is peculiar to see physics texts filled with mathematical derivations that offer absolutely nothing about the origin, value, and significance of the topic.
A third tenet was that it was the encroachment of Jews, who secretly and maliciously had hidden their physics, which now posed a threat to German culture. “At the end of the Great War,” Lenard wrote, “when Jews in Germany began to dominate and set the tone, the full force of its [Jewish physics] characteristics suddenly burst forth like a flood. It then promptly found avid supporters even among many authors of non-Jewish or not really pure Jewish blood.”
In the world of Deutsche Physik, Aryan scientists’ sole motivation for their research was the elucidation of truth. Others, particularly Jews, had more nefarious motives and were not above lying and self-promotion:
The characteristic haste of the Jewish mentality to come up with untested ideas was actually contagious; though it provides personal advantages (Jewish applause, primarily), it has a negative effect on the whole. In Jewish physics, every assumption that proves not to be completely false is celebrated as a milestone.
Explaining how the Jews cunningly gained ascendency in physics, Lenard revived past complaints about Einstein, who, despite his having immigrated to the United States, was still “the unquestionably full-blooded Jew.” He wrote,
[The Jew’s science] is only an illusion and a degenerate manifestation of fundamental Aryan science [that treats truth and lies as] equivalent to any one of the many different theoretical options available. . . . This fact was concealed through computational tricks. . . . The characteristic audacity of the uninhibited Jew, together with the deft collaboration of his fellow Jews, [which] enabled the construction of Jewish physics.
Finally, Lenard concluded that, even allowing for the sorry state of the natural sciences, Aryan science would inevitably prevail:
But a people that has produced the likes of [among others] Copernicus, Kepler . . . Leibnitz, Mendel, and [one of his own mentors] Bunsen will know how to find itself again, just as it has found a Fuehrer of its own blood in politics as heir to Frederick the Great and Bismarck, who saved it from the chaos of Marxism, which is equally alien, racially.
Deutsche Physik was a crystallization of Lenard’s thoughts and experiences during two decades of rising nationalism among German scientists during and following World War I. He had, for more than a decade, included bits and pieces of similar content in his speeches and writings of what he now comprehensively published in Deutsche Physik. Despite h
aving done so, he had managed to convince only a handful of acolytes, while many Aryans had flocked to the theoretical physics of Einstein.
Now, however, Deutsche Physik was an idea whose time had come. The publication of the foreword to Deutsche Physik coincided nearly perfectly with Hitler becoming Fuehrer, and its content was convergent with the beliefs of Germany’s new leadership. Suddenly, there were receptive ears at the highest level of government. Born out of envy, bitterness, and prejudice, Deutsche Physik appeared at exactly the right time to provide the philosophical underpinnings for the self-destructive scientific policies of the Third Reich.
Immediately upon Hitler’s appointment as Chancellor, Lenard and Stark sought to impress their views upon the Nazi hierarchy. The biggest problem in their minds was that the Jews had gained ascendancy in the German universities and, for years, had been fostering the careers of their own kind. There was a paucity of capable, well-trained Aryans who could reasonably fill the openings that would develop under Deutsche Physik. Even so, Lenard would do his best to ensure the start of what would become a renewal of Aryan leadership in German universities.
At seventy-one, Lenard was not particularly interested in new titles or responsibilities. His goal was to see completed what he had imagined—the complete vanquishing of Einstein and the extinction of his work, followed by a renewal of German academe along the lines of Deutsche Physik. This was not the case for his younger protégé, Johannes Stark. Stark sought more concrete authority from a personal acquaintance, Minister of the Interior Wilhelm Frick. His goal was to be appointed to several high positions where he could control virtually all appointments to university professorships and government research funding throughout Germany.
As his opening gambit, Stark petitioned Frick to appoint him president of Germany’s Reich Physical and Technical Institute, a title he had long coveted. However, his troubles in Wuerzburg and the long memory of his ill-advised 1922 publication of The Current Crisis in German Physics had caused him to be passed over for the position on two occasions during the preceding decade. The institute was a central resource for all of German science, doling out equipment, personnel, and money for research throughout the German university system. Despite the unanimous opposition of every scientist consulted, Minister Frick appointed Stark as president in May 1933.
Lenard celebrated Stark’s appointment by writing an opinion article for the politically sympathetic newspaper Voelkischer Beobachter entitled, “A Big Day for Science: Johannes Stark Appointed President of the Reich Physical and Technical Institute.” Noting that the appointment represented a political reversal from the norm during the Weimar Republic, he wrote that Stark becoming president
signifies a renunciation of the apparently already inescapable predominance of what briefly might be called Einsteinian thinking in physics, and it is a move towards reaffirming the scientist’s old prerogatives: to think independently, guided only by nature. . . . Stark, one of the remaining untouched examples of this thinking is himself at the top in such an important post. . . . Not only science may rejoice in this way. Technology also is done a great service in now having Stark at the head of the Reich Physical and Technical Institute. For he is not only an outstanding scholar and accomplished researcher but also, at the same time, a practitioner. . . . In all likelihood, never before has such a suitable choice been made for president.
The institute’s interim administration had presaged the new president’s expected actions by firing all Jewish employees, which freed Stark to take immediate steps toward further Aryanization of its faculty. He reduced the institute’s investment in theoretical physics, instituted a rigid hierarchical organizational structure with himself as the chief of the natural sciences, and fired the Jewish members of the institute’s advisory committee. The subsequent dissolution of the committee gave Stark absolute authority. He developed plans for a massive expansion to further accrue power for his domain.
By the time the German Physical Society met in Wuerzburg in September 1933, Lenard and Stark had leveraged their relationships with the National Socialists so they could effectively control access to all university appointments, as well as the share of governmental research funding distributed through Stark’s institute. A presentation by Stark at the meeting introduced his idea for organizing research in the natural sciences. Noting that his Reich Physical and Technical Institute already was charged with communicating with and servicing the needs of all of the other physics departments in Germany, he proposed that—for the good of the country—the institute extend its responsibilities:
It is from this central, comprehensive, and leading position that its responsibility arises to organize physical research for the benefit of both science and industry. Some of my listeners may well immediately object to the term “organization of scientific research.” The question might be raised: Can scientific research be organized at all? Surely, scientific progress is always the independent achievement of individuals. . . . These statements are certainly correct. But they misinterpret the purpose of scientific organization.
Stark wished to reorganize science in the Reich by adopting the “Fuehrer principle,” Already implemented in a number of spheres, the Fuehrer principle emulated the steeply vertical hierarchy of the highest level of the German government. Stark proposed that the Reich Physical and Technical Institute be greatly expanded to centralize and manage resources across the expanse of Germany. Among a long list of responsibilities he felt the institute should assume were to unite the various institutes and academic departments of physics throughout Germany; serve as the necessary mediator between them and as the intended source of ideas or support; greatly increase its size and scope, with a goal of quadrupling its capacity in order to “exercise its duty to science and the economy”; serve as a central resource for equipment and manpower for investigations that were beyond the capabilities of individual departments; and “act as an agent between physical research and industry.”
He saved the best for nearly the end. Much to the chagrin of his audience, in the last few minutes of his address to Germany’s physicists, Stark suggested the following:
Furthermore, the Reich Physical and Technical Institute will be involved in the monitoring of physical literature, since changes must be made to protect German physics within Germany, as well as to maintain its influence abroad.
After once more invoking the beneficence of Minister Frick and his hope for the support of Fuehrer Hitler, he asked for his audience’s understanding and assistance:
But I also need your support, gentlemen. You, my colleagues also can assist directly or indirectly in the organization [and funding decisions] of the German Research Foundation and in the reorganization of publication in physics. I ask for your cooperation in the projected organization of physical research for the benefit and honor of the German people.
Somewhat obtusely, Stark was proposing a central clearinghouse for all research manuscripts seeking publication in German journals. This was very much along the lines of what Goebbels had established for the lay press, where the Fuehrer principle was firmly entrenched. In the end, Stark was not so much asking for his audience’s assent as informing them of his plans. He quoted a verse of Goethe’s “Erlkoenig”: “. . . and if you are not willing, I will use force.” To further clarify his intent, he stated, “The Fuehrer now takes over the responsibility for the Fatherland, I will now take over the responsibility for physics.”
Although Stark assured those attending that the purpose of his plan was to ensure freedom of research and publication, his speech provoked considerable unease, especially on the part of the theoretical physicists. Max von Laue challenged Stark, comparing his crusade against Einstein and relativity to the Catholic Church’s efforts to silence Galileo and to ban Copernicus’ view that the earth revolved around the sun. Regardless of Deutsche Physik, and as hard as Stark might try to suppress them, Einstein’s theories were still correct. An angered Lenard attributed the supportive applause for von
Laue to “Jews and their fellow travelers present.”
While the disrespect of his peers doubtlessly offended him, Stark persisted in his ambitions. He had further developed his relationships with individuals at the top levels of government. Like Lenard, he had direct access to Hitler. Hitler gave his preliminary approval to Stark’s grandiose plans for expanding the Reich Institute. However, academic infighting and a lack of available moneys eventually proved to be insuperable barriers, and Stark’s plans never were actualized.
In the spring of 1934, Stark realized the second of his major goals. He was appointed chair of the German Research Foundation, which had succeeded the Emergency Foundation as the principal national funding agency for research grants in the natural sciences. Hitler himself gave the order for the dismissal of Friedrich Schmidt-Ott from the post, “because the Fuehrer wishes it,” and Schmidt-Ott’s replacement by Stark.
Lenard rejoiced at the news. For all practical purposes, Stark now controlled both faculty hiring and access to the funds necessary for German faculty to conduct research. Lenard had Hitler’s ear and was to become the “kingmaker,” the one to decide which professors were suitable for employment and where they should be assigned. Together, he and Stark could continue to develop the natural sciences in German universities according to the principles of Deutsche Physik.
The Man Who Stalked Einstein Page 16