The B'nai B'rith magazine · 1927-07-01 · 10 (7.1927) · p. Seite 425

THE JEWS AND RELATIVITY 425 discovery was first given by Minkowski ... to him we are indebted for the idea of a four dimensional world geometry, on which we based our arguments from the outset." Weyl himself, who ranks as the leading authority on relativity next to Einstein, and whose original investigations on the subject have been universally recognized, has also been taken for a Jew in many quarters, perhaps because his name sounds Jewish. Again I thought it best to have the fact on record, and Professor Weyl was kind enough to advise me in writing that he did not come from Jewish stock. In his case we might almost tell his Nordic origin from his appearance. In America, the chief exponent of the relativity theory is Ludwik Silberstein, formerly lecturer at the University of Rome. The second enlarged edition of his "Theory of Relativity" has recently been published by Mac- Millan. Some years ago, Silberstein, who is at present with the Eastman Kodak Company in Rochester, was invited to give a series of lectures on relativity by the University of Toronto which also undertook the publication of the course. He gave similar courses at the University of Chicago and Cornell University. We must not forget that the theory of relativity also provoked a great deal of discussion in the academic philosophical world, and here again we find that those who showed a mastery of the subject and made a deep impression on workers in that field by their penetrating analysis of the concepts, are Bergson and Cassirer. There have been, of course, many other writers who dealt with the philosophical phase of this universal doctrine, but the works of the French Jew and the German Jew tower above the rest. No wonder Count Alfred Korzybski, himself a deep student of the implications of relativity, writes me that whenever he finds it necessary to peruse a book in connection with his investigations, he almost always finds it to be the product of a Jewish author, which fact, he goes on to say, discloses not only Polish but also Jewish elements in his results. The best biography of Albert Einstein is written by Alexander Moszkowski, and even if it bears the earmarks of a Boswellian attitude, it is none the less fascinating. Apropos of the purpose of this article, there is a striking sentence in this biography, which goes to show that even in his early youth, Einstein was influenced by a Jewish work. "A new world was opened for him," Moszkowski tells us, "when he made the acquaintance of A. Bernstein's comprehensive popular books on scientific subjects." ("Einstein, the Searcher," page 225, English translation.) This same Aaron Bernstein, who wrote Vogele Maggid and other Jewish novels, also apparently wrote the first letter of relativity in Einstein's plastic mind. Jewish Adversaries of Einstein It would be a mistake to conclude that Einstein has attracted all the Jewish philosophers and scientists to his theory, although in a circular which came with the Archiv fur Geschichte der Philosophie, I once came across a plea which, among other things, would indicate that the Jewish scientific workers have made it their business to give wide currency to Einstein's doctrine. The charge is rather familiar, but we shall see presently through whose offices the Einstein theory came to be universally accepted in scientific circles. For the present, let us note that one of the chief opponents of the Einstein conception is Professor Oskar Kraus, at the German University of Prague, a Jew, who because of his attachment to the philosophy of Brentano, undertook to demolish a solidly built edifice with rather theoretical weapons. Brentano represented a certain absoluteness in philosophy. Although he renounced his priesthood, he yet was possessed of the Roman Catholic spirit, and it is this spirit which now possesses Kraus and makes futile passes against an iron-clad knight. Conclusions and Reflections I fear that some readers who are altogether sold to the slogan that "science knows of no nationality"— until, naturally, their own country's scientists are under discussion—will frown upon the idea of casting the principle of relativity in a Jewish mould. They will explain the Jewish associations in the development of this conception as due to sheer chance, or they will, after the fashion of a Jewish professor of philosophy, dismiss the matter impatiently with the remark: "What have the Jews to do with relativity? If they are interested in the theory, it is because they are always active in every new movement." This is an attitude which reminds us somewhat of the profound declaration that "not Homer wrote the Iliad but another man by the name of Homer." If Michelson, Minkowski, Levi-Civita, and other Jews all had a hand with Einstein in the establishment of the great principle, only as a result of chance or coincidence, then the line between a coincidence and a miracle almost vanishes. In self-defence for broaching this delicate subject, I may call attention to the fact that the issue between the House of Israel and the principle of relativity has already been picturesquely and good-humoredly brought up by a non-Jew. Perhaps this revelation will relieve my burden. In The Scientific Monthly of July, 1926, Dr. Paul R. Heyl, of the National Bureau of Standards of the United States, vividly describes a number of experiments that were conducted to disprove the Einstein theory. He himself, in fact, confesses that his own crystal weighing experiments were "indeed undertaken by the experimenter in a spirit of definite skepticism regarding Einstein's theory, which appeared (to one who had learned his physics before the discovery of the X-rays) rather too bizarre and fanr tastic." But the negative result of the work placed the experimenter very much in the same position as that in which Balak, the king of the Moabites, found himself on a certain occasion. It requires a little self-effacement for the author to liken himself in this connection to Balak, although the analogy, to be complete, should have contained the name of Balaam instead of that of Balak. Here Dr. Heyl reproduced effectively the well-known story of Balak and Balaam (which after so many thousands of years still finds its way into the average Jew's daily idiom), and therewith ends his stimulating article. "The land of Moab had been invaded by the host of Israel, as the sands of the sea in number. A battle was impending, and Balak was none too certain of the outcome. He felt that he needed moral support and ghostly counsel, and he sent messengers to Balaam the soothsayer, saying: 'Come, curse me Jacob; come, defy me Israel. "It was a professional call, and Balaam came. Balak was glad to see him. He gave him presents; he showed him much honor; he took him up to a high place where he might see the host of Israel encamped on the plain below, and he waited impatiently for the soothsayer to speak. "And Balaam spoke the words which the Lord put into his mouth; but Balak looked at him aghast, and said: 'What is this? I called thee to curse mine enemies, and lo! thou has blessed them altogether!' " This biblical allusion makes an excellent peroration, but this is not where (Continued on -page 430)