Jewish Scientists Research Articles

The Genealogical Science: The Search for Jewish Origins and the Politics of Epistemology (review)

Reviewed by: The Genealogical Science: The Search for Jewish Origins and the Politics of Epistemology Yulia Egorova Nadia Abu El-Haj , The Genealogical Science: The Search for Jewish Origins and the Politics of Epistemology. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2012. 328 pp. The use of genetics in the study of human history and personal ancestry tests has become the subject of a growing literature in the Anthropology, History, and Sociology of Science. The Genealogical Science focuses on the voluminous DNA research carried out among Jewish communities. Do people around the world who identify themselves as Jewish have a common origin? If so, is this origin in Palestine? Is the biblical account about the lineage of the Jewish priests correct? These are some of the questions that the genetic research subject of the Nadia Abu El-Haj's inquiry has tried to address. As the book shows, the scientists' attempts to answer these questions have been informed by the broader socio-cultural discourses about Jewish descent and history. The Genealogical Science begins with a useful discussion of the origins and historical context of what became known as genetic anthropology or genetic history—studies which attempt to use genetics to describe the formation of human populations. Drawing on the work of other scholars in the Anthropology of Science and wider Science and Technology Studies, Abu El-Haj discusses how human population genetics both reproduces existing concepts of race and creates new, biologized, notions of human diversity. As far as specifically genetic history is concerned, Abu El-Haj argues that DNA data provide the wrong type of evidence to answer the questions that geneticists take upon themselves to address. The book elucidates well the numerous socio-political and ethical problems associated with genetic research. It critiques the attempts made by geneticists to create a "firewall" between questions of culture and DNA evidence, and demonstrates that despite the scientists' [End Page 967] assertions that their research does not do much more than reconstruct early human history by using "neutral" markers, genetic anthropology still invites its audiences to "infer behavior from DNA evidence" (48) and contributes to the construction of a "biologico-historical" self. Abu El-Haj argues that while, on the one hand, genetic studies create a discourse suggesting that it is up to the individual to choose whether to learn about his or her biological self or not; on the other hand, they reinforce the idea that it is this biological self that is the most authentic one. The book reminds us that "the search for the biologically meaningless marker cannot be safely cordoned off from the search for culturally, medically, or cognitively meaningful traits" (179). Abu El-Haj has based her analysis of genetic history on studies of Jewish origins, which the book considers against the backdrop of earlier constructions of Jewish physicality. The Genealogical Science first focuses on the work of European and American Jewish scientists devoted to the perceived racial composition of the Jews conducted at the turn of the 20th century. The author then proceeds to explore studies in population genetics carried out in Israel during the 1950s and 1960s, and, finally, discusses more recent genetic history projects which aimed to identify the origins of different Jewish communities around the world, including the communities who declared their affiliation to the Jewish tradition in the 20th century. The book also discusses ancestry tests offered to individuals interested in using genetics as a means of deciphering family history and looking for possible Jewish roots, and on the research which argued for the genetic origins of what has entered the public discourse as Jewish intelligence. In each case, the author argues that the studies in question promote a particular understanding of Jewish peoplehood which constructs the Jews as members of a universal community connected to each other not just on the level of culture and religion, but also through their origin, which is supposed to be evident in their physicality. This particular understanding of what it means to be Jewish receives a great deal of the author's critical attention. Abu El-Haj makes it clear that what she intends to explore and critique in the book is the naturalization of Jewish...

Judging Edward Teller: A Closer Look at One of the Most Influential Scientists of the Twentieth Century (review)

Reviewed by: Judging Edward Teller: A Closer Look at One of the Most Influential Scientists of the Twentieth Century Rebecca Slayton (bio) Judging Edward Teller: A Closer Look at One of the Most Influential Scientists of the Twentieth Century. By István Hargittai. Amherst, N.Y.: Prometheus Books, 2010. Pp. 575. $32. Edward Teller has been revered as the father of the hydrogen bomb, a brilliant physicist who helped America win the cold war. He has also been reviled as the man who crucified J. Robert Oppenheimer and spurred a costly race for ever more destructive and dangerous nuclear weapons. In Judging Edward Teller, Istvan Hargittai weighs these diverse judgments into the most synthetic account of Teller’s life to date, with mixed results. As a fellow Hungarian, scientist, and acquaintance of Teller’s, Hargittai is uniquely positioned to shed fresh light on Teller’s life. Using papers from the Historical Archives of the Hungarian State Security Services, Hargittai provides a fascinating and amusing account of failed efforts to enlist first Teller, and then his sister, in communist espionage. Hargittai also makes good use of the Teller papers in the Hoover Library at Stanford. However, much of the book relies heavily on some problematic secondary sources, and especially scientists’ memoirs, while neglecting a large body of historical scholarship surrounding Teller. Reliance on two particularly suspect sources—an outdated hagiography by Stanley Blumberg and Gwinn Owens (1976), and Teller’s own 2001 Memoirs—leads the book to repeat well-known errors. Hargittai’s use of Memoirs is odd, because he thoughtfully discusses Teller’s early-developed tendency of revising history and coping with difficulty by “denial” (p. 85). Hargittai also judges conflicting secondary sources, noting, for example, mistakes in Peter Goodchild’s 2004 biography (p. 235). But these discussions reveal little that is new. Instead, the book’s primary contribution is synthetic—it improves on two problematic biographies of Teller primarily because it is the first to depict the fullness of Teller’s life, not only as a controversial political figure, but also as a scientist. Hargittai’s narrative follows three “exiles” (Teller’s word). First, the rise of communism and anti-Semitism in 1920s Hungary encouraged Teller and other rising Jewish scientists in Budapest to study in Germany. The rise of the Nazis in Germany uprooted Teller again in 1933, and he eventually landed at George Washington University, as a full professor in physics. In describing these first two “exiles,” Hargittai usefully captures several of Teller’s scientific collaborations and achievements in lay terms. Teller was a scientific “digger, not a driller” (p. 104)—that is, a scientist who engages many different questions, rather than focusing on one. Teller’s digging eventually led him to nuclear physics and the Manhattan Project, where he became fascinated with the prospect of developing a fusion bomb—but was forced to focus instead on the simpler fission weapon. Teller’s third “exile” was the result of his testimony against Robert [End Page 509] Oppenheimer, the head of the Manhattan Project and icon of physics, in the loyalty-security hearings of 1954. Though many painted Oppenheimer as angel and Teller as devil, Hargittai judges Teller more favorably. Oppenheimer privately betrayed friends, whereas Teller proved loyal to a fault. Nonetheless, Hargittai acknowledges that Teller’s testimony was designed to carry strong negative weight—a fact that made him a pariah among many scientists. Whereas Teller’s first two exiles nurtured his scientific collaborations, this third exile undermined his scientific research. Teller instead became a public and political “monomaniac with many manias,” advocating aggressive nuclear weapons development at every turn. Several chapters chronicle Teller’s political campaigns, such as his opposition to limits on nuclear testing, and his advocacy of President Ronald Reagan’s Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI, or “Star Wars” missile defense program). Unfortunately these chapters reveal little new, and a tendency to rely on scientists’ memoirs, rather than more comprehensive historical work, sometimes skews the account of these political debates. For example, Hargittai describes SDI as a “policy” (p. 403) and highlights Teller’s approach—the X-ray laser. But as a tangible research and development program, SDI redirected work on a far broader range...

Who went into phage research?

A total of 30,000 phage papers, books, or book chapters, published between 1965 and 2010, were analyzed for the ethnic origins of 14,429 first authors. Their names represent 40 linguistic domains or geographic areas and at least 70 languages. British and German names predominate. Results broadly concur with statistics on the frequency of publications by country and show the growing role of Third-World countries in phage research. Irish and Jewish scientists are prominent. Historical and societal factors appear to be very important elements in the advancement of science.

Purinergic signalling

The Chief Editor of Acta Physiologica earned his degree at the ‘I. Physiologisches Institut’ in Heidelberg. He is right now writing these lines in Hessische Str. 3–4 in Berlin. Who cares? And what does this have to do with purines in physiology, a topic so hot that our journal dedicated a whole issue to it (Fredholm & Verkhratsky 2010)? Little did I know at the time in Heidelberg that the enormous desk I was sitting at had once been the desk of Albrecht Karl Martin Leonhard Kossel (Had I known, our laboratory dogs would probably not have been allowed to relieve their bowels there as often). Kossel discovered the nitrogenous compounds purine and pyrimidine in the resolvent of the nucleic acid. He separated two different purines: adenine and guanine and three different pyrimidines: thymine (separated firstly), cytosine and uracil (Anon 2007, http://www.nobelkepu.org.cn/english/physiology/134556.shtml). For this, Kossel was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1910. In the late 19th century, Kossel joined the famous physiologist Emil Du Bois-Reymond in Berlin. And as you may already anticipate, their laboratory was situated in the building I am now sitting. Looking out of the window to the left, the previous Chemistry Department appears. There, in the Chemistry Department, once sat Hermann Emil Fischer, who coined the name ‘purine’ (purum uricum) in 1884 and was awarded the Nobel Prize in 1902. Finally, in 1929, Hans Karl Heinrich Adolf Lohmann discovered ATP. Naturally, his office in Berlin was just down the hall. Realizing all this can cause acute academic insignificance syndrome! Also in 1929, Alan Drury and Albert Szent-Györgyi proposed that purines are signalling molecules. Geoffrey Burnstock, the man who built the concept of adenosine triphosphate (ATP) as a transmitter molecule, and contributed to the special issue in Acta Physiologica (Burnstock et al. 2010), was born, naturally, in 1929. Purinergic signalling is a true strength of Acta Physiologica (Oxford). As pointed out by Fredholm & Verkhratsky (2010), only water is involved in a higher number of chemical reactions than ATP. Given its high concentration in the cytosol, it does not surprise that ATP acts also as a signalling molecule. When cells take harm, surrounding ATP concentration increases. ATP then acts as an extracellular signal, such as in the gut (Kaunitz & Akiba 2011) or in the fish gill when hypotonic shock occurs. In this situation, epithelial release of ATP and NaCl secretion is stimulated via purinergic receptors (Marshall 2011). Interestingly, specific ATP sensitive receptors, such as the dorsal root ganglion neurones, inhibit cAMP by a G protein-coupled pathway, suggesting a neuronal expression of a plasmalemmal cAMP receptor (Mamenko et al. 2010). ATP seems so fundamental that even neural stem cell migration involves this pathway (Grimm et al. 2010). Adenosine is a second basic purinergic signalling molecule acting almost universally in the organism (Aliagas et al. 2010, Nilsson et al. 2010, Ribeiro & Sebastiúo 2010, Wang et al. 2010, Yang et al. 2010). It results from ATP degradation. Any increase in energy consumption and, hence, ATP hydrolysis will increase cytosolic adenosine concentration. Adenosine signals ATP breakdown, intra- or extracellularly, thereby providing crucial information for complex organisms and may even help regulate apoptosis (Mlejnek & Dolezel 2010). In addition to adenosine, uridine adenosine tetraphosphate (Jankowski et al. 2005, Tolle et al. 2010, Schuchardt et al. 2011), diadenosine tetraphosphate (Schluter et al. 1994, Hoyle & Pintor 2010) and UDP have important roles as signalling molecules (Harden et al. 2010). All these purines are important for cardiovascular physiology (Hansen et al. 2010, Andersen et al. 2011) and pathophysiology (Waldenstrom et al. 2010). Take for instance the kidney, which is a crucial organ for blood pressure control (Guyton 1991). The kidney controls blood pressure by regulating volume and electrolytes, among other mechanisms. ATP supplies the energy to the plasma membrane pumps. Thus, it does not surprise that electrolyte reabsorption is regulated by purinergic receptors (Novak 2011), which help control renal perfusion (Dahl et al. 2011) and sodium homeostasis (Jankowski et al. 2011). In particular, it seems that the renal medulla and its blood supply by the vasa recta determine the long-term blood pressure (Cowley et al. 1995, Makino et al. 2002, Mattson 2003). It seems that nucleotides released from adjacent tubules play an important role in determining vasa recta blood flow (Crawford et al. 2011). To close the circle, Burnstock’s interests in purinergic signalling started as he took up his first postdoctoral post with Feldberg (Burnstock 2009). Of course Feldberg’s laboratory was here in the Physiological Institute in Berlin (Hessische Str. 3–4). Sadly, he was dismissed in 1933 during the Nazi purge of Jewish scientists and only thanks to the aid of Hill, he could relocate to Britain’s National Institute for Medical Research where he welcomed the young Burnstock.

Urologie und Nationalsozialismus

The biography of Paul Rosenstein (1875-1964) serves as an example of the fate of a Jewish scientist at the beginning of the twentieth century in an area of conflict between the development of urology as a specialty at greater urban hospitals, professional achievements as a surgeon and scientist, drastic breaks during Nazi era and escape from Nazi terror via New York to Brazil.

A surname-based bibliometric indicator: publications in biomedical journal

Surnames have been used as a proxy in studies on health care for various ethnic groups and also applied to ascribe ethnicity in studies on the genetic structure of a population. The aim of this study was to use a surname-based bibliometric indicator to assess the representation of Jewish authors in US biomedical journals. The other aim was to test the hypothesis that the representation of Jewish authors in US biomedical journals corresponds to their representation among US Nobel Prize winners in Medicine, 1960---2009. From among articles published 1960---2009 in all journals covered by Medline (>5,000), and in the top 10 US biomedical journals we counted articles by authors from the following three groups: Kohenic---Levitic surnames, other common Jewish surnames, and the most frequent non-Jewish surnames in the USA. The frequency of a surname in the US population (1990 US Census) was used to calculate the expected number of scientific publications: the total number of published articles multiplied by a surname's frequency. The actual number of articles with that surname was also determined. The ratio of actual to expected number of articles was used as a measure of representation proportionality. It was found that the ratio of actual to expected number of articles in both Jewish groups is close to 10 among all (>5,000) journals, and close to 20 in the top 10 journals. The ratio of actual to expected numbers of Jewish Nobel Laureates in the USA is also close to 20. In conclusion, the representation of Jewish authors in top 10 US biomedical journals corresponds to the representation of Jewish Nobel Laureates among US laureates. We hypothesize that disproportional representation of Jewish scientists as authors in top biomedical journals and among Nobel Prize laureates in Medicine is mostly due to their overrepresentation as research participants, not because of the increased chances for reward for a Jewish researcher per se.

Zionist Internationalism through Number Theory: Edmund Landau at the Opening of the Hebrew University in 1925

ArgumentThis article gives the background to a public lecture delivered in Hebrew by Edmund Landau at the opening ceremony of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem in 1925. On the surface, the lecture appears to be a slightly awkward attempt by a distinguished German-Jewish mathematician to popularize a few number-theoretical tidbits. However, quite unexpectedly, what emerges here is Landau's personal blend of Zionism, German nationalism, and the proud ethos of pure, rigorous mathematics – against the backdrop of the situation of Germany after World War I. Landau's Jerusalem lecture thus shows how the Zionist cause was inextricably linked to, and determined by political agendas that were taking place in Europe at that time. The lecture stands in various historical contexts - Landau's biography, the history of Jewish scientists in the German Zionist movement, the founding of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, and the creation of a modern Hebrew mathematical language. This article provides a broad historical introduction to the English translation, with commentary, of the original Hebrew text.

A tale of two hormones

A little more than a century ago, an arc of research began that culminated in the identification of insulin by four scientists working in Toronto. With astonishing speed, this landmark discovery became a life-saving treatment for thousands of people with diabetes around the world. In time, insulin was established as the most important anabolic hormone and found its place in the pantheon of medicine’s greatest discoveries. Fifteen years ago, leptin was identified as another metabolic hormone with major catabolic effects. This story, however, is not about leptin or insulin. Rather, it is about the path to discovery for each of them and about the path to discoveries in general. It is a story of discoveries made and not made. It is about how I found my way into the world of Israel Kleiner, who, but for the mysterious winds that shape our paths, might have been the man who discovered insulin almost a century ago. I have had the privilege of listening to numerous first-hand accounts from many great scientists describing their moments of discovery. And over the course of my career, I, too, have experienced this thrill. But even before the discovery of leptin, I was fascinated by the experiences of people who have made important discoveries. My interest in great discoveries led me to The Discovery of Insulin, by Michael Bliss1. This enthralling work tells the tale of the 1922 discovery of insulin. In gripping fashion, it traces the progression of ideas that led to one of the key achievements of the twentieth century and arguably the first instance in which science provided a new lifesaving medicine for the morbidly ill. Before the discovery of insulin, a diagnosis of diabetes, particularly in children, was often equivalent to a death sentence1. The only available treatment was a starvation diet advocated by Frederick Madison Allen, a physician working at the Rockefeller Institute for Medical Research (now Rockefeller University) and a leading authority on diabetes1–5. Allen was the first to realize that diabetes was a general disorder of metabolism and that acidosis and death could be forestalled if caloric intake was restricted. When acidosis developed, calories were further reduced, and, for many, diabetes was a race between starvation and acidosis, the ultimate result of either condition often being death. The discovery of insulin by Frederick Banting, Charles Best, James Bertram Collip and John James Macleod changed the treatment of diabetes forever by providing a hormonal treatment from the pancreas that could rapidly restore bedridden, cachectic and moribund children and young adults to healthy lives. One of the many scientists who tested the ability of pancreatic extracts to treat diabetes before the discovery of insulin was Israel Kleiner (Fig. 1), a biochemist who also worked at the Rockefeller Institute between 1910 and 1919. In a study published in 1919, two years before Banting and Best published their first paper, Kleiner conclusively showed that extracts of pancreas but not other tissues could lower blood glucose in diabetic dogs6. Referring to Kleiner’s work, Bliss wrote, “of all the publications before the work at Toronto, it was the most convincing”7, and later opined that “his controls had been impressive; his follow-up discussion was a beautiful piece of scientific writing”7. Then, Kleiner’s work abruptly ceased. While history has correctly bestowed the credit for discovering insulin on the Toronto group, Bliss wrote of Kleiner, “in 1919 he was closer to success than any of them, and made no claims at all”8. Kleiner never publicly discussed why his research stopped so precipitously, other than writing four decades later “why we did not continue and isolate the antidiabetic factor is a long story and has no place in the present discussion”9. Kleiner’s story had great personal resonance for me. Here was another Jewish scientist, the grandson of immigrants, working a century earlier at the same institution as me. But on the cusp of isolating the most important hormone ever discovered, he walked away from it. How did Kleiner come to study diabetes? Why did his studies cease so abruptly? Did Kleiner and his colleagues fully understand the implications of his research? What was the personal impact of his having missed the opportunity of a lifetime? Kleiner’s work and career also raise a general question: what are the elements of a discovery? These were the questions I set out to answer.

Jewish Scientists as Geniuses and Epigones

Jewish Scientists as Geniuses and Epigones

The Contribution of the Jews of Spain to the Transmission of Science in the Middle Ages

The Jews of Spain in the Middle Ages played an important role in the transmission of Graeco-Arabic learning by translating, or participating in translations, of scientific texts. They also composed original works on mathematics, astronomy, astrology and medicine in which they adapted the theories of the ancients for their own time. Science was used by the ruling powers as an element of prestige, and by the Jewish scientists as a way to obtain a high social status. The policy of cultural sponsorship of Muslim caliphs, as well as of Christian kings, was fundamental in the process of transmission of the Greek sciences to the Western world. The School of Translators of Toledo is an example of this process. The astronomical theories developed by Jewish scientists at the end of the 15th century played an important role in the Spanish and Portuguese discoveries of the 16th century. Their knowledge of astronomy, astrology, mathematics, and medicine was also used by the Jewish intellectuals to provide a rational and scientific support for the Jewish religion and tradition, as is reflected in the interpretations of the Bible by medieval Spanish Jewish authors.

Antisemitismus in der Weimarer Republik und die Lage jüdischer Mathematiker: Thesen und Dokumente zu einem wenig erforschten Thema

The paper discusses several still unsettled and not systematically investigated questions concerning the situation of Jewish scientists, among them mathematicians, in the Republic of Weimar. Contemporary statements by the well-known leftist and liberal journalists Carl von Ossietzky (1932) and Rudolf Olden (1934) are used to describe the general political situation. A wide-spread feeling of a social and political crisis and changes and perturbations in international scientific communication provide explanatory background for the conditions within academia in the 1920s. A comparison of appointments of Jewish mathematicians to full professorships before and after World War I does not give significant differences. Attitudes of Jewish mathematicians such as Felix Bernstein, Richard Courant, Emil Julius Gumbel, Edmund Landau, Richard von Mises, Johann von Neumann and Adolf A. Fraenkel, but also of non-Jewish mathematicians such as Felix Klein, Walther von Dyck and Theodor Vahlen will be discussed, providing some unpublished material. One statement by Felix Klein (1920), which shows his undecided stance with respect to the problem of anti-Semitism, and an excerpt from Richard von Mises’ diary (1933), where he reflects on his status as a Jewish mathematician and as a refugee, are particularly valuable as points of reference for necessary further research.

2007/5000/500/10/2008/120/75/48→52/CEJ/CAJ/CMC/CSC—Without Words?

2007/5000/500/10/2008/120/75/48→52/CEJ/CAJ/CMC/CSC—Without Words?

Emigration von Sozialmedizinern der Berliner Charité in die USA - Karrieren der Schüler Alfred Grotjahns

In 1920, the physician Alfred Grotjahn was appointed as first Chair for Social Hygiene in Germany at the University of Berlin. During reign of national socialism, the Institute for Social Hygiene was closed and from 1933 and 1945 transformed into an Institute for Racial Hygiene. During that period, many German scientists including social medicine co-workers of the Berlin Charité emigrated due to political, religious or racial prosecution. The basis for this biographical presentation of co-workers of Grotjahn, who emigrated to the USA, is based on research conducted at German and American sources such as the Archive of Humboldt University of Berlin, Federal Archive in Koblenz, National Institutes of Health in Washington, NARA Archive in Washington, and Alan-Mason-Chesney Medical Archives in Baltimore. The Jewish scientists Franz Goldmann, Miron Kantorowicz, Alfred Korach and Georg Wollf, all former co-workers of Alfred Grotjahn, were forced to leave the country in the 30s and emigrated to the USA. They were active in different areas of public health and pursued relatively successful careers. The societal system and mentality of the USA have obviously profited from the professional background and experience arising from the emigration of former social medicine experts of the Charité.

Sidney Millman

Sidney Millman

Metzger's Challenge

Notice of “Laws of seeing” by Wolfgang Metzger, 1936, translated into English for the first time by Spillmann, Lehar, Stromeyer, and Wertheimer, and published by MIT Press (October, 2006). Readers will find this an erudite and fascinating summary of the Gestalt principles known up to 1936, written to appeal to informed as well as lay audiences, and enlivened by numerous examples including some on camouflage which antedate more recent treatments. At 200-odd pages, Metzger’s book is a welcome addition to the bookshelf. The translators are especially to be congratulated on their care in translating concepts and terms as accurately as possible while still preserving the sense of excitement which permeates the work. Gestalt Psychology was still regarded as ‘German’ by the Nazi regime in 1936, so the publication of work done by this school of Psychology was still possible at that time; however, the enormous contribution of Jewish scientists is mostly suppressed, and this should be kept in mind by the reader. Interestingly, though, it is not entirely eliminated: for example, the seminal work of Susanne Liebmann – which was excluded from standard treatments of Gestalt Psychology in English, even into the 1980s – is mentioned. Post-war editions of Metzger’s book remedied this defect. And now, I invite you to attempt Metzger’s challenge: trying teaches one quite a bit about the operation of Gestalt factors, and one can always read the book to find answers: “It is precisely that which naturally ‘belongs together’ that gets organized together. And what belongs together is that which ‘fits’ together, that is, that which together results in a well-organized, unitary structure. Things that by virtue of their chance position appear to ‘belong’ to something else as a ‘necessary’ component can in this way successfully disappear from our view, even though they are lying completely exposed. You can make a nice party game out of ‘openly hiding’ erasers, pencils and other things up to the size of a walking stick according to this law.” I very much hope that the translators’ effort will inspire more translations of fundamental Gestalt texts, so that non-German-speaking readers can better appreciate this work and go beyond the simplified list of Gestalt factors which is the common text-book fare. The presentation of phenomenology and argument which allowed the Gestaltists to deduce properties of functions of the visual brain is especially important; it is in this manner that Psychology can stand on its own ground as well as provide independent and meaningful assistance to basic neuroscience.

Hans Albert Einstein in South Carolina

In October 1937, a few months after completing his doctoral studies at the Eidgenossische Technische Hochschule ETH in Zurich, Switzerland, Hans Albert Einstein stepped off the boat in New York, where he was met by his father, the famous physicist Albert Einstein Fig. 1 . Getting his 33-years-old son from Switzerland to the United States had been a major effort for Albert. His son needed to learn English; his son’s wife was reluctant to leave Switzerland; acquiring the right visa was complicated; moreover, there was concern that his son as the son of a prominent Jewish scientist should avoid traveling on a German ship. Albert then had the task of finding his son a job in the United States. Albert called upon acquaintances to assist in finding his son a position. Professors Theodore von Karman at Caltech and Lewis Moody at Princeton played crucial roles in identifying possible employers. In due course, after visiting several agencies and universities, Hans Albert Einstein hereinafter called Einstein filtered down through the bureaucratic structure of the U.S. Department of Agriculture USDA and spoke with someone who could

Mart J van Lieburg (ed.), Isidore Snapper's notes for memoirs 1889–1973: the autobiographical recollections of ‘the champion of bedside medicine’, Rotterdam, Erasmus, 2004, pp. 239, illus., €35.00 (paperback 90-5235-172-4).

When Hitler came to power in Germany in 1933, the Nazis at once ensured that Jewish physicians, medical scientists and teachers of medicine would be removed from their posts. The same removal of Jews took place in Austria following the Nazi occupation in 1938. In countries bordering Germany there was much discussion amongst Jewish medical men as to their course of action. In Holland, for example, there were those who thought that in the forthcoming war, which all foresaw, their country might be able to maintain the neutrality of 1914–18. Isidore Snapper, a distinguished Jewish research worker and professor of medicine in Amsterdam, thought differently. He was perceptive enough to predict that Jewish physicians in Holland might suffer the same fate as those in Germany and elsewhere and he prudently emigrated to the United States in 1938. Notes for memoirs was written in the two years that preceded Snapper's death in 1973 at the age of eighty-four. It is derived from a pile of papers written in English in his characteristic shorthand. It describes first his early education in Amsterdam, his pre-clinical education and his clinical years between 1908 and 1911. After clinical experience with A A Hijmans van den Bergh, the pioneer of bilirubin research and with Pel, of the Pel-Ebstein fever that occurs in Hodgkin's Disease, he became at the age of thirty the youngest professor appointed in Amsterdam. For the next twenty years he was recognized as a superb teacher and research worker who did particularly important work on bone disease. Moving to New York in 1938, he was encouraged by the Rockefeller Foundation to take a post as professor of medicine at the Peiping Union Medical College in China, where he stayed until the outbreak of war with Japan after Pearl Harbor. Here he continued his interest in bone disease, rickets being particularly common among his Chinese patients at that time. He was highly regarded by his Chinese colleagues who saw him as a true professor since he had a bald head, indicating that he read under a lamp every night. He also wore spectacles, which meant that he even read the small print of the articles. Finally his embonpoint showed that he had been invited to many consultations about rich patients. After Pearl Harbor he then had an interesting odyssey being exchanged for Japanese diplomats. After a long journey through South Africa and England, he arrived in the United States in 1942. There he worked first in the War Department in Washington and then in 1944 became a clinician, teacher and research worker in the Mount Sinai Hospital in New York. He then moved in 1952 to the Cook County Hospital in Chicago. Chicago, however, was not congenial to him and in 1953 he moved to the Beth-El Hospital in Brooklyn, a community hospital which he transformed into an academic institution before he retired in 1965. Snapper's notes include his own idiosyncratic views on medical education, as well as comments on medicine and medical life in the modern world. He is described as “the champion of bedside medicine”—there were however many others of his era who would deserve that title. Clearly the editor has had difficulties with Snapper's English, which cannot have been easy to transcribe. There are many errors. For example when Snapper describes his delight, after his Chinese episode, in rediscovering “Ladburys chocolate”, surely it was Cadburys. Nevertheless, this is an admirable autobiographical account of the career of a fascinating Dutchman who inspired all who benefited from his teaching. As the author states, it will be a vitally important source for the scientific biography of Snapper still to be written.

Mac Goldsmith: A Jewish Career in the German Automobile Industry (1925-1936)

A review of the literature focusing on the contribution of Jewish Germans to German society reveals a peculiar discrepancy. Whereas there is no lack of documentation on Jewish architects, historians, writers, musicians, scientists, and politicians, there is an astonishing scarcity of material on the engineering profession.1 Biographies are even rarer with only Erik Eckermann’s Nathan S. Stern being available.2 While it is certainly worth analysing the reasons for such underrepresentation of engineers and technicians in German-Jewish historiography (the specific historical developments that barred Jews from entering many professions and the resulting “common cliches”3 as well as the scarcity of source material come to mind),4 the purpose of this essay is to begin filling such gaps by providing a critical account of the career of one Jewish engineer: Mac Goldsmith.

Doctors from hell: The horrific account of Nazi experiments on humans

Doctors from hell: The horrific account of Nazi experiments on humans

Biographische Kohärenz in der Wechselwirkung von Philologie und (R‑)Emigration

SummaryThe article portrays Wolfgang Steinitz (1905–1967) as an broad-minded linguist, whose life was determined by the political events in Europe between 1924 and 1967 and by his personal fate as a Jewish scientist, as a German communist of middle-class intellectual origin, and as a refugee to the USSR, Estonia and Sweden, who became an influential figure in the humanities in post-war East Germany. The paper focuses on detecting features of an inner biographical coherence in Steinitz’oeuvre – despite the outer changes he had to experience with respect to political systems (Nazi-Germany, Stalin’s Soviet Union, Sweden, Soviet-occupied East-Germany/GDR) and scientific fields he had to deal with (Finno-Ugristics, Ostyakology, folklore, ethnology, German studies, and other subjects). The paper illustrates features of biographical coherence emerging from a productive connection of personal motivation and philological method. The way in which Steinitz (1934) analyzed the grammatical parallelisms in Finno-Karelian folk poetry as ‘variations under conditions of contrast’ provides the over-all pattern for the range of scientific endeavours he addressed in his subsequent scientific undertakings. With reference to the personal friendship of the two émigré scholars Wolfgang Steinitz and Roman Jakobson, the paper suggests the life-saving role a commitment to scientific work can play as a balancing pole in difficult political times.