There was no sign of Lenard.
Who knows what Einstein might have intended to say to Lenard following their intense
public exchange? Had Lenard been willing to listen, what outcomes, if any, might have
changed for both of them? Perhaps, none at all. Scientifically speaking, both Lenard
and Einstein were set in their beliefs. But perhaps the bad personal feelings between
the two could have been assuaged to some extent, and the distant repercussions might
not have been so severe.
The confrontation imparted to Einstein a new resolve never again to allow his opponents
to upset him so thoroughly. “I absolutely cannot understand,” he wrote, “that because
of bad company I could lose myself in such deep humorlessness.” A few weeks later,
Einstein made light of the Bad Nauheim episode in a letter to Paul Ehrenfest: “At
Bad Nauheim, there was a cockfight, of sorts, about relativity. Lenard, in particular,
figured as my opponent. To my knowledge, it didn’t come to any kind of manifestations
of the sort you expected.”
By the phrase “any kind of manifestations of the sort you expected,” Einstein was
specifically referencing anti-Semitism. However, that neither Einstein nor the lay
press nor the Physikalische Zeitschrift , which covered the proceedings, made any reference to racist remarks does not mean
that Lenard was free of prejudicial thinking. Lenard’s involvement in right-wing,
nationalistic organizations, where such rhetoric was common, was already far advanced.
Much later, in 1938, Lenard recalled his considerations during the Einsteindebatte:
I treated and judged the Jew as a proper Aryan person in this discussion according
to the view of the time, and that was wrong. . . . It would not have been of use at
the meeting of professors [to point out the flaws in Jewish thinking about science]
because the men are also today still blind. Planck had presided over the discussion,
which was preceded by three tedious presentations in favor of Einstein.
Lenard retreated to lick his wounds. He wrote of his sense of hurt and isolation in
his perception that the majority of scientists in attendance had sided with Einstein.
“The abolition of the ether is again proclaimed as a result of Nauheim. . . . Not
one has laughed at this. I don’t know whether it would have been different had the
abolition of air been proclaimed.” Among Lenard’s keepsakes commemorating the event
was a clipping from the weekly newspaper Die Umschau , which focused on science and technology. An article attributed to a Mr. W. Weyl,
by whose name Lenard had written the word “Jew,” reads, “One simply has to state,
that Lenard has not understood the very meaning of the Einsteinian doctrine. Consequently,
the adversaries did not find each other. The fight remained a fake fight without result.”
Despite what Lenard saw as an abandonment by many of his Aryan colleagues, the encounter
with Einstein bolstered his resolve to persevere in his efforts to expose the fallacious
nature of Einstein’s ideas. Lenard wrote, “My letters of this summer have brought
together twelve gentlemen who are German enough to tackle the project to turn the
miserable Berlin Institute of Physics [meaning Berlin’s Kaiser Wilhelm Institute of
Physics where Einstein was the director] into a German Institute of Physics.” Lenard’s
meaning was clear. The academic facility that employed, housed, and protected the
hated Einstein had adopted an un-German attitude. That would have to change. Among
the twelve scientists listed by Lenard were Johannes Stark, to whom Lenard would eventually
pass the mantle of Deutsche Physik ; Wilhelm Wien; and the spectroscopist Gehrcke, who had followed Weyland on stage
at the Philharmonic.
The “twelve gentlemen” had met during the conference and agreed that Einstein must
be forced to revoke the statements he had made in the Berliner Tageblatt , which had