Einstein on the Run

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Einstein on the Run Page 21

by Andrew Robinson


  Then he came to practicalities, including the League of Nations:

  And now how are we to help the Jews in Germany? They have been made outlaws and aliens of the German state. I wish the League of Nations could send a commission of inquiry to Germany or supply passports. Because if there ever were a time when the League ought to relax the rigid interpretation of narrow laws, and adjust these to the true spirit of its purposes, it is today. But if that League does not act, there is another league of nations which should – the British Empire. We are a real league of nations, and we should stand by Jewry in its trouble. We have been granted the Mandate of Palestine, and to help to fulfil the Messianic miracle there.

  Finally, Locker-Lampson reminded the House of Commons why England owed a debt to its Jews as a result of the 1914–18 war, in which he himself had fought:

  The Jews in the British Empire stood by England in the war in her fight for freedom. We must stand by their side in their fight for freedom, too. I think the only Member of this House who became, or was subsequently, a V.C. [Victoria Cross] was a Jew. In the village where I live there is only one Jewish family, and in the entire district where I live there is only one mother who lost three sons fighting in the war. They were the sons of that Jewish mother. She lost three fighting in the battles of the British Empire, and when I was asked whether or not I would subscribe to a Cross in the district, I said, ‘Only if we put up a tribute to those Jewish fallen, too.’

  The House of Commons voted to support Locker-Lampson’s bill on its first reading. A second reading was scheduled for 7 November 1933. This was a relatively rare accomplishment for any bill introduced under the ten-minutes rule. ‘Commander Locker-Lampson showed himself something of an artist to achieve it on Wednesday,’ remarked the parliamentary correspondent of The Sunday Times.

  Part of the credit must surely go to Einstein’s personal attendance in Parliament, as arranged by his ever-alert English host. Members of the House found themselves constantly glancing upwards towards their almost-legendary visitor during the business of ‘questions’, as diffused lighting from above threw into relief the white-suited Einstein’s aureole of grey hair; while the attendants in the Distinguished Visitors’ gallery kept busy showing Einstein off to arriving journalists with an awe they normally reserved for visiting sports stars. According to the Manchester Guardian, ‘As a people we are not supposed to bother ourselves about general ideas – unless body-line bowling be a general idea – but there was no mistaking the universal interest which the propounder of the theory of relativity attracted.’ Afterwards, as Einstein stood with Locker-Lampson in the lobby, ‘Members eagerly came forward to be introduced to the greatest scientist of the age,’ wrote the Jewish Chronicle. ‘As the professor walked out of the lobby, it was clear that his appearance in the House had intensified the Members’ appreciation of the grim reality of the plight of the Jews of Germany.’ Certainly the Nazi newspaper, Völkischer Beobachter, took note in its 29 July report headlined ‘Einsteinish Jewish Theatre in British Parliament’, which accused Locker-Lampson of having staged the performance for the purposes of self-publicity in the foreign press. The combative references in his speech to the predatory ‘Hun’ naturally provoked a bitter Nazi denunciation of the British parliamentarian.

  For all the parliamentary theatre, Einstein himself – frequently astute about political realities – was unconvinced that action would follow the vote. On 28 July, after returning to Le Coq, he wrote to Ettlinger that he had pursued the League of Nations plan with British politicians at length – hence the reference to the League in Locker-Lampson’s speech – but that the plan had become entangled in the particular political situation of England with reference to the Jews, that is, the British Mandate in Palestine. Locker-Lampson’s advocacy of the idea of giving Jewish refugees fleeing the Nazis a Palestinian passport and thus English protection, while no doubt morally admirable, would not prove feasible, in Einstein’s view. ‘I cannot believe that such a thing can really be done, because the English absolutely must avoid the danger of an influx into Palestine and I do not see what legal formality could avert this danger.’ Yet, Einstein added to Ettlinger, he had felt obliged to support the parliamentary motion, given Locker-Lampson’s ‘truly touching’ commitment to the Jewish cause.

  Einstein with Commander Oliver Locker-Lampson MP, his host in Britain, July 1933. The photograph may have been taken near the Houses of Parliament in London, where Locker-Lampson gave a rousing speech about the Jewish refugee predicament, watched from the visitors’ gallery by Einstein, who was the centre of attention from the assembled MPs.

  Events proved Einstein correct. The parliamentary bill never received a second reading. Nor did Locker-Lampson’s appeal to the home secretary to grant British citizenship to Einstein himself come to fruition, as had been feared by his friend Yahuda, who sternly admonished Locker-Lampson for going public with the idea to the press on 27 July, before the government had had a chance to consider his proposal. In this case, however, the reason was not so much political as personal. First, Einstein desired to avoid upsetting his ongoing negotiations with the Swiss government about his confiscated money and property in Germany. Second, he was entirely unsure whether his future lay in England, the United States or perhaps some other country. Just before leaving London on 27 July, still aglow with his personal welcome in Parliament on the previous day, he told the Daily Telegraph: ‘I love this country. Your family life always astonishes and pleases me. Englishmen know the right way to treat assistants and servants. As for the spirit of personal freedom here, I drink it in at every pore.’ But what about his undoubted first love – physics and mathematics? Would England undoubtedly provide the best place to settle for his scientific research?

  RENUNCIATION OF PACIFISM

  During August, which he spent in Belgium, Einstein’s clash with the Nazis hotted up. On 20 July, responding to a letter from a French anti-militarist in Belgium who had requested him to intervene with the Belgian government on behalf of two Belgian conscientious objectors in prison, Einstein had delivered a rebuff. ‘In the heart of Europe lies a power, Germany, that is obviously pushing towards war with all available means,’ he declared. In his view, there was now no choice but to renounce his ardent pacifism and recommend open European military preparations, including conscription, against Germany’s secret rearmament. The publication of Einstein’s letter in the French press on 18 August produced international repercussions in the pacifist movement.

  Lord Arthur Ponsonby of War Resisters’ International wrote to Einstein from London with chagrin on 21 August:

  I am sure you will not take it amiss if I express deep disappointment over the change in your attitude on war resistance. I understand only too well your distress and despair at the events in Germany. However, no matter how provocative a government may be, this fact is not, in my view, a sufficient justification for denying the reasonableness and effectiveness of refusing military service. Hitler’s methods may be insane and criminal, but I am firmly convinced he is not such a fool as to think he could gain anything for Germany by waging war against another country. He would have all of Europe arrayed against him, and utter defeat would be inevitable. Besides, he has neither money nor arms and is much too concerned with his own security to become involved in such stupid ventures. Belgium’s security, now and in the future, hinges solely on a policy of disarmament. All who work towards that goal, by refusing any kind of participation in war, deserve our unswerving respect and encouragement. Refusal of military service is not only a desirable policy in time of peace; it should enlist our full support at all times, particularly in time of crisis. My belief in the necessity of war resistance remains firm and unshaken. I venture to express the hope that, although the present cruel and oppressive measures adopted in Germany may have shaken your faith, you will not allow your change in viewpoint – a temporary change, I feel sure – to become public knowledge, at least not until you have given the matter mature reconsideration. Sh
ould your views be made known, you can be sure that every chauvinist, militarist and arms merchant would delight in ridiculing our pacifist position.

  But Einstein was unpersuaded. He replied firmly and pointedly to Ponsonby on 28 August:

  Under circumstances such as prevailed in Europe until late last year, refusal of military service was, in my opinion, an effective weapon in the struggle for reason and dignity. Now, however, the situation has changed; I hope it will not remain so for long.

  Can you possibly be unaware of the fact that Germany is feverishly rearming and that the whole population is being indoctrinated with nationalism and drilled for war? Do you believe for a moment that Germany’s overlords will be any easier on the French than they have been on their own fellow citizens who are not willing tools? What protection, other than organised power, would you suggest?

  I loathe all armies and any kind of violence; yet I am firmly convinced that, in the present world situation, these hateful weapons offer the only effective protection. I am certain that, if you yourself held today a responsible office in the French Government, you would feel obligated to change your views in the face of the prevailing danger.

  At the same time as his militant rejection of pacifism, throughout August and early September Einstein further infuriated the Nazis by his public support for The Brown Book of the Hitler Terror. Part of this book, concerning the violence wreaked on the victims, was quoted earlier. Another part dealt with the responsibility of the Nazi leadership:

  ‘Einstein takes up the sword’. This cartoon by Charles Raymond Macauley appeared in the Brooklyn Eagle during 1933. It expresses Einstein’s radical change of mind about pacifism after the coming to power of the Nazis.

  It is the National Socialist leaders who have organised the pogroms and lynchings, the burnings and the pillories, the tortures of the first, second and third degrees. The methods of the Middle Ages have been employed publicly in so far as they were effective as propaganda. But the tortures have been carried out in private, in the darkness of the night. Even now millions of Germans are ignorant of them.

  Earlier in the summer, during May, Einstein had agreed to become the official chairman of the international committee responsible for The Brown Book. He was then apparently unaware that it was being edited by a Stalinist secret agent, Otto Katz (unnamed in the book), and that most of the information – including harrowing photographs of Nazi victims intended for reproduction in the book – was being collected by Communists in Germany and surrounding countries, often at considerable personal risk. Even its publisher – a London-born, Oxford-educated Jew, Victor Gollancz – was well known in England for his Communist sympathies. However, Einstein certainly had nothing directly to do with the book’s preparation. His name did not appear on its spine or in its prelims, or in its introduction written by the Labour Party politician Lord Dudley Marley. The name ‘Einstein’ occurred chiefly in the section dealing with the Nazi impact on German science, which described his worldwide distinction and noted that his current mistreatment ‘is enough to make Hitler’s Germany a laughing-stock in the world of modern science’. He came to be prominently associated with the book only because of its London publisher. In search of a celebrity endorsement, Gollancz was ‘anxious that the book should be published “By an International Committee under the Chairmanship of Albert Einstein”’ – as one of the committee’s members, the British left-wing activist and former Labour member of parliament ‘Red’ Ellen Wilkinson, informed her friend Katz in late June. After Einstein, perhaps naïvely, agreed to this endorsement, Gollancz in due course splashed his name across the English edition’s dust-jacket.

  Even so, Einstein refused to dissociate himself from the book as a work of Communist-inspired propaganda following its international publication on 1 September, notwithstanding the embarrassed encouragement of Wilkinson and Gollancz, who were appalled that Einstein’s association with it was now endangering his life. Instead, he told Wilkinson quietly in an interview with her for the Daily Express: ‘They shall not force me to do that. The work your committee has done is good.’ He also stated mildly to The Times: ‘I was not responsible for the Brown Book which has angered them. I was on the committee which authorised the publication of the book, but I did not write anything in it, although I agreed with its contents.’ Inevitably, though, the Nazis regarded Einstein as one of the key suspects behind The Brown Book. Indeed, in late 1933, the Völkischer Beobachter went so far as to claim that Einstein had been ‘proved to be the author of the book’. It continued: ‘In this book, in the foulest way, he incites people against Germany, appeals for a preventive war and demands that this country, from whom the whole world has received only benefits, be manured with the blood of its people.’

  Equally inevitably, Einstein was also sought out in Le Coq by disgruntled Nazis – or at least unknown persons posing as such. ‘Belgium was dangerously near Germany,’ recalled Vallentin after a visit to the Einstein house in August. ‘There was a rumour that [Hermann] Göring’s brother had come to Le Coq. Men with foreign accents asked too many questions about Einstein. Suspicious individuals roamed around the house.’ One such approach started with a letter from an unknown man urgently requesting an interview with Einstein. Elsa Einstein refused him for fear of trouble, but when the man repeatedly insisted, she agreed to see him alone without her husband. The man informed her that he was a former Nazi stormtrooper who had fallen out with the Brown Shirts and was now opposed to them. He was willing to sell Einstein all the secrets of the paramilitary organisation for 50,000 francs. ‘Why do you assume that Professor Einstein is interested in the secrets of your former party?’ asked Mrs Einstein. ‘Oh, we all know very well that Professor Einstein is the leader of the opposing party throughout the entire world, and that such a purchase would therefore be very important to him,’ the stranger ingenuously replied. Absurd as this was, the encounter was very disturbing for the Einsteins. For if it were now definitely the case that the Nazis regarded Einstein as the head of the official opposition, ‘[a]ll sorts of unpleasant surprises had to be expected’, wrote his friend and biographer Philipp Frank, who personally heard this story from a near-desperate Elsa while on a visit to Le Coq.

  DEATH THREATS FROM NAZI EXTREMISTS

  How serious was the risk to Einstein’s life from Nazi assassins in August? There is no written evidence one way or the other, not too surprisingly. Serious enough, according to the Belgian royal family, to require armed police to guard Einstein’s house. Two plainclothes policemen shadowed the solitary Einstein’s every moment, which he found extremely irksome – especially when he wanted to take a walk on the dunes. ‘At the very moment of my arrival at Le Coq I saw one of them rush into the room,’ recalled Vallentin.

  He was wiping his purple face and pulling at his long whiskers. His eyes were popping out of his head and the heavy pocket of his coat was flapping. ‘Where is the professor?’ he shouted in despair. ‘He is resting upstairs,’ Elsa replied calmly. ‘He isn’t there – my friend has just been to see – he’s gone . . . .’ His despair was so comical that Elsa, in spite of her fears, could not help laughing. ‘We’ll try to find him. . . . Never have I had so hard a task. He slips out of our fingers like an eel . . . . His Majesty’s orders were so very strict,’ he grumbled. He crunched the gravel angrily under his feet. ‘You shouldn’t have behaved like that, Albert,’ Elsa said to him an hour later. ‘Hm . . . didn’t I give them the slip . . . ?’ Einstein looked at us, shaking with laughter, his eyes shining with triumph.

  Then, around 1 September, there seemed to be a quantum jump in the danger level. Just as The Brown Book of the Hitler Terror was published in London with Einstein’s dust-jacket endorsement came the news that Theodor Lessing had been shot on 30 August by three Nazi agents through the window of his study at his exiled home in Marienbad in Czechoslovakia. The agents escaped into neighbouring Germany, and their victim died in hospital on 31 August. Lessing, like Einstein, had long been
a target for abuse by the Nazis because of his international reputation as a philosopher. They liked to refer to him as ‘Professor Lazarus’, as in this statement by Goebbels to the British press in May 1933:

  The Nazi threat to Einstein’s life. He and his wife Elsa were extensively protected at their exiled home in Le Coq, Belgium, by the Belgian police force, one of whose officers is shown here with the Einsteins in mid-1933. In September, Einstein escaped from Belgium to rural England.

  The English Jew is of quite a different type from the German Jew. It would never have been possible in England, for example, for a Jewish author to say, as the German Professor Lazarus, calling himself Lessing, did, that the Jewish soldiers had fallen for ‘filth’, nor for the Jewish literary man in England to compare the head of the state with a wholesale murderer.

 

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