Einstein on Peace

Albert Einstein, Otto Nathan

• Publisher: Arcole Publishing
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781787204508
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Military & Maritime History
• Index: History

"Einstein was not only the ablest man of science of his generation, he was also a wise man, which is something different. If statesmen had listened to him, the course of human events would have been less disastrous than it has been."This verdict, from the Preface by Bertrand Russell, sums up the importance of this first collection of Albert Einstein's writings on war, peace, and the atom bomb. In this volume, thanks to the Estate of Albert Einstein, the complete story is told of how one of the greatest minds of modern times worked from 1914 until 1955 on the problem of peace. It is a fascinating record of a man's courage, his sincerity, and his concern for those who survive him.This book is also a history of the peace movement in modern times. Here are letters to and from some of the most famous men of his generation, including the correspondence between Einstein and Sigmund Freud on aggression and war, and the true story of his famous letter to President Roosevelt reporting the theoretical possibility of nuclear fission. It is the living record of more than forty years of Einstein's untiring struggle to mobilize forces all over the world for the abolition of war and the creation of a supranational organization to solve conflicts among nations.

CHAPTER ONE—THE REALITY OF WAR 1914-1918

IN THE SPRING of 1914, Albert Einstein left Switzerland and, not without misgivings, settled in Berlin, the capital of Germany. He was then thirty-five years of age and had already achieved renown as a mathematical physicist throughout the scientific world. His Berlin appointment was in itself a signal honor. Famous scholars had come to Zürich to woo him away from the Institute of Technology, where he was then teaching. In his new position he was to be director of the newly created Institute of Physics in the Kaiser Wilhelm Society for the Development of the Sciences (Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gesellschaft zur Förderung der Wissenschaften), one of the top research organizations in Europe. He had also been elected a member of the famous Royal Prussian Academy of Sciences, a coveted distinction many savants twice his age failed to receive, and was appointed professor at the University of Berlin with all professorial privileges but without any teaching or administrative obligations. Adding the liberal salary he was to earn, this was indeed a unique opportunity for a man who even then closely fitted the popular notion of the unworldly scientist.

By both his temperament and the boldness of his scientific imagination, Einstein was a man set apart. Given to easy laughter, devoid of vanity or pretense, gentle and kind, he was, nevertheless, in his own words, an Einspänner, a man who goes by himself, drawing strength from solitude. Even as a boy, he had been deeply repelled by all evidence of authoritarianism, militarism, nationalism and bigotry. Writing of Einstein’s early years, his lifelong friend Maurice Solovine, a fellow student and scientist, said that “what struck Einstein most forcibly and aroused his deep condemnation were the prejudices, injustices and reactionary ideas of those days.”{1} But although Einstein was a pacifist before his arrival in Berlin, he had never, so far as is known, translated these sentiments into any form of organized protest. He had taken no stand on public issues, nor had he been engaged in civic affairs or political action.

The outbreak of the First World War, in August 1914, had a large impact not only on the belligerent countries, their people and the lives of their people but far beyond the confines of the conflict itself. The war not only created wholesale death and destruction, misery and pain, hunger and privation in the countries at war but caused a profound upheaval in human, political, cultural and scientific relationships throughout the world. Einstein was among those who were deeply shocked by the mere realization of what war actually was, that war was not only still possible but could, in fact, be waged on a huge scale. The experience of war was to change his life; not that his scientific work did not remain the very center of his existence, but in the sense that it was to make him a conscious citizen of the world, who henceforth was to consider the fight against war, the horrors of which were brought home to him every day, his most deeply felt concern until the hour of his death. Two letters, one written in the very first weeks of the war, the other a few months later, illustrate Einstein’s thoughts and feelings in those days. Both letters were addressed to Paul Ehrenfest, a physicist teaching at the University of Leiden in Holland, one of Einstein’s closest and dearest friends.{2} In his letter of August 19, 1914, Einstein said:

Europe, in her insanity, has started something unbelievable. In such times one realizes to what a sad species of animal one belongs. I quietly pursue my peaceful studies and contemplations and feel only pity and disgust. My dear astronomer Freundlich [Professor Erwin F. Freundlich of the Royal Observatory at Potsdam, Germany] will become a prisoner of war in Russia instead of being able there to observe the eclipse of the sun. I am worried about him.

Einstein’s second letter to Ehrenfest was written early in December 1914 and included these remarks:

The international catastrophe has imposed a heavy burden upon me as an internationalist. In living through this “great epoch,” it is difficult to reconcile oneself to the fact that one belongs to that idiotic, rotten species which boasts of its freedom of will. How I wish that somewhere there existed an island for those who are wise and of good will! In such a place even I should be an ardent patriot.

Germany’s initial military success was facilitated by her violation of Belgium’s neutrality, a violation so sharply in conflict with German cultural pretensions that it created a shock and uproar throughout the world. Even the Imperial German Government felt that some action was necessary. The result was a public declaration by intellectuals in a “Manifesto to the Civilized World.” The Manifesto, issued early in October 1914, has long since become notorious.{3} The German word used in the title of the declaration was Kulturwelt, and this document, given wide publicity in the countries then at war against the Central Powers, went far toward lending the word Kultur the derogatory connotation that clung to it for many years.

The Manifesto made six negative points, all of them beginning with “It is not true that...” It disclaimed German war guilt. It denied charges of wanton violation of Belgium’s neutrality, asserting that the Germans had merely anticipated the war plans of the Allies and that it would have been suicide to do otherwise. It denied that the Germans had committed atrocities in Belgium and specifically denied the alleged pillage of the Belgian city of Louvain. It denied that German methods of warfare defied the provisions of international law, citing instead the alleged Allied use of dum-dum (soft-nosed) bullets and the “shameful spectacle...of Russian hordes...allied with Mongols and Negroes...unleashed against the white race.”

The final point was clothed in a negative formulation apparently to preserve the symmetry of the Manifesto but was in truth a defiant declaration to the world: “It is not true that opposition to our so-called militarism does not constitute opposition to our Kultur, despite the hypocritical allegations of our enemies.” If this meant anything, it was that anyone who opposed German militarism necessarily opposed German “culture” as well. The thought is expressed in the concluding paragraphs:

Were it not for German militarism, German culture would have been wiped off the face of the earth. That culture, for its own protection, led to militarism since Germany, like no other country, was ravaged by invasion for centuries. The German army and the German people today stand shoulder to shoulder, without regard to education, social position or partisan allegiance.

We cannot wrest from our enemies’ hand the venomous weapon of the lie. We can only cry out to the whole world that they bear false witness against us. To you who know us, who have hitherto stood with us in safeguarding mankind’s most precious heritage—to you we cry out: Have faith in us! Have faith in us when we say that we shall wage this fight to the very end as a civilized nation, a nation that holds the legacy of Goethe, Beethoven and Kant no less sacred than hearth and home.

In token whereof we pledge our names and our honor!

There were ninety-three signers to the Manifesto: artists, scientists, clergymen, poets, jurists, physicians, historians, philosophers and musicians, most of them prominent individually and some of international renown. Many had been identified with German nationalism, but there were others not usually so regarded—Ernst Häckel, the famous evolutionist; Wilhelm Röntgen, the discoverer of X rays; Paul Ehrlich, the great biochemist; Engelbert Humperdinck, the composer of Hänsel und Gretel; and even Max Reinhardt, the pioneer of the modern theater. Despite later half-hearted disavowals, the Manifesto undoubtedly expressed the dominant mood, not only among German intellectuals but among the German people at large.

Yet, within days after publication of the Manifesto, a noted German pacifist, Georg Friedrich Nicolai, composed a ringing challenge to it, a “Manifesto to Europeans.” He circulated it among the faculty of the University of Berlin, where he held a chair in physiology. Nicolai was a distinguished physician, a cardiologist who already enjoyed a reputation for unorthodoxy. In the charged atmosphere then pervading Germany, so well illustrated by the Manifesto of the ninety-three, Nicolai’s enterprise was hazardous indeed. Only three men joined him. One of them was Einstein. Here is the text of what may be assumed to be the first political document which Einstein signed:

Never before has any war so completely disrupted cultural co-operation. It has done so at the very time when progress in technology and communications clearly suggest that we recognize the need for international relations which will necessarily move in the direction of a universal, worldwide civilization. Perhaps we are all the more keenly and painfully aware of the rupture precisely because so many international bonds existed before.

We can scarcely be surprised. Anyone who cares in the least for a common world culture is now doubly committed to fight for the maintenance of the principles on which it must stand. Yet, those from whom such sentiments might have been expected—primarily scientists and artists—have so far responded, almost to a man, as though they had relinquished any further desire for the continuance of international relations. They have spoken in a hostile spirit, and they have failed to speak out for peace.

Nationalist passions cannot excuse this attitude which is unworthy of what the world has heretofore called culture. It would be a grave misfortune were this spirit to gain general currency among the intellectuals. It would, we are convinced, not only threaten culture as such; it would endanger the very existence of the nations for the protection of which this barbarous war was unleashed.

Technology has shrunk the world. Indeed, today the nations of the great European peninsula seem to jostle one another much as once did the city-states that were crowded into those smaller peninsulas jutting out into the Mediterranean. Travel is so widespread, international supply and demand are so interwoven, that Europe—one could almost say the whole world—is even now a single unit.

Surely, it is the duty of Europeans of education and good will at least to try to prevent Europe from succumbing, because of lack of international organization, to the fate that once engulfed ancient Greece! Or will Europe also suffer slow exhaustion and death by fratricidal war?

The struggle raging today can scarcely yield a “victor”; all nations that participate in it will, in all likelihood, pay an exceedingly high price. Hence it appears not only wise but imperative for men of education in all countries to exert their influence for the kind of peace treaty that will not carry the seeds of future wars, whatever the outcome of the present conflict may be. The unstable and fluid situation in Europe, created by the war, must be utilized to weld the Continent into an organic whole. Technically and intellectually, conditions are ripe for such a development.

This is not the place to discuss how this new order in Europe may be brought about. Our sole purpose is to affirm our profound conviction that the time has come when Europe must unite to guard its soil, its people, and its culture. We are stating publicly our faith in European unity, a faith which we believe is shared by many; we hope that this public affirmation of our faith may contribute to the growth of a powerful movement toward such unity.

The first step in this direction would be for all those who truly cherish the culture of Europe to join forces—all those whom Goethe once prophetically called “good Europeans.” We must not abandon hope that their voice speaking in unison may even today rise above the clash of arms, particularly if they are joined by those who already enjoy renown and authority.

The first step, we repeat, is for Europeans to join forces. If, as we devoutly hope, enough Europeans are to be found in Europe—people to whom Europe is a vital cause rather than a geographical term—we shall endeavor to organize a League of Europeans. This league may then raise its voice and take action.

We ourselves seek but to make the first move, to issue the challenge. If you are of one mind with us, if you too are determined to create a widespread movement for European unity, we bid you pledge yourself by signing your name.

Carefully worded as it was, this declaration might have affected the course of events had it received wide and representative support. One of the two men who, besides Nicolai and Einstein, were willing to sign was Wilhelm Förster, then already past eighty, the long-time head of the Berlin Observatory and a rueful signer of the Manifesto of the ninety-three intellectuals as well.{4} The other, Otto Buek, had come from Heidelberg to complete his studies in Berlin. This small group of heretics was not able to challenge successfully the so-called elite of German Kultur; the Manifesto to Europeans did not attract the signatures it would have needed to be effective and was not made public until several years later. This is how Nicolai described the experience with the Manifesto:

In circulating the Manifesto privately, we encountered much friendly approbation; but even those who approved were reluctant to sign. One objected to the passage about Greece as historically inaccurate; another said that the whole Manifesto was too late; still another said it came too early. One critic was against scientists’ meddling in worldly affairs. Of those who saw the document, most were too cowardly, or they basically disagreed with its views. In those days even the best Germans were unwilling to be good Europeans, or dared not display their true feelings. Since the Manifesto could have value only if it were supported by the authority of recognized names, we dropped the plan.

Some forty years later Buek recalled that

the draft was discussed and approved in one of the university lecture halls and copies circulated among a large number of professors. Alas, we had overestimated the courage and integrity of German professors. The results ...

Table of contents

• Title page
• TABLE OF CONTENTS
• INTRODUCTION
• PREFACE
• CHAPTER ONE-THE REALITY OF WAR 1914-1918
• CHAPTER TWO-REVOLUTION IN GERMANY: HOPE AND DISILLUSIONMENT - 1919-1923
• CHAPTER THREE-INTERNATIONAL CO-OPERATION AND THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS - 1922-1927
• CHAPTER FOUR-WAR RESISTANCE I -1928-1931
• CHAPTER FIVE-WAR RESISTANCE II - 1931-1932
• CHAPTER SIX-THE EVE OF FASCISM IN GERMANY - 1932-1933
• CHAPTER SEVEN-ADVENT OF NAZISM AND ADVOCACY OF MILITARY PREPAREDNESS. DEPARTURE FROM EUROPE - 1933
• CHAPTER EIGHT-ARRIVAL IN AMERICA, REARMAMENT AND COLLECTIVE SECURITY - 1933-1939
• CHAPTER NINE-BIRTH OF THE ATOMIC AGE - 1939-1940
• CHAPTER TEN-THE SECOND WORLD WAR - 1939-1945
• CHAPTER ELEVEN-THE THREAT OF ATOMIC WEAPONS -1945
• CHAPTER TWELVE-MILITANCY - 1946
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN-THE NEED FOR A SUPRANATIONAL ORGANIZATION - 1947
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN-THE STRUGGLE FOR MANKIND’S SURVIVAL - 1948
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN-TOTAL DISARMAMENT OR NONE - 1949-1950
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN-THE FIGHT FOR INTELLECTUAL FREEDOM - 1951-1952
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN-TWILIGHT - 1953-1954
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-THE THREAT OF UNIVERSAL ANNIHILATION - 1955
• EDITORS’ NOTE
• NOTES
• REQUEST FROM THE PUBLISHER