Olivia Alphonsine Zivot

Albert Einstein died on April 18, 1955 at the age of 76 in Princeton NJ. He was cremated that same day and his ashes were scattered along the bank of the nearby Delaware River, before the news of his death had even reached the public. Einstein had insisted that his ashes be scattered “so that his final resting place would not become the subject of morbid veneration,” but one part of his body was to continue traveling the world for another four decades: his brain.

The pathologist who performed Einstein’s autopsy, Dr. Thomas Harvey, did not have permission to embalm and keep the brain, but insisted to Einstein’s outraged living relatives that there was scientific value in studying the brain of the world’s favorite genius. Harvey’s hope, and the hope of researchers upon whom Harvey bestowed sacred slices of brain, was to understand the structural network behind Einstein’s genius. Various studies of the brain matter yielded some results indicating a correlation between the structure of Einstein’s brain and his intelligence; but Harvey failed to recognize the vital distinction between a brain and a mind. While it is true that Einstein’s legacy is first and foremost that of a brilliant scientist, it was his humanity and pureness of character that enchanted people from every corner of the world. As his career in theoretical physics blossomed, his contemporaries almost unanimously acknowledged the profundity of his work with surprisingly little animosity. Considering the fact that almost nobody in the scientific community, let alone the general population, truly understood the implications of his work, it becomes clear that his personality played a significant role in how wholly the world embraced him.

In the beginnings of his career, Einstein’s religious life was of little importance to the public. He was raised in a secular Jewish household, and like most Jews in Germany at the time his family had almost seamlessly assimilated into society. In early adulthood, he accepted the idea of Jewish assimilation and rarely spoke publicly on matters of religion and his own Jewishness. But following World War I life began to change for Einstein as anti-Jewish sentiment began to infiltrate the hearts and minds of the German people. Previously known for his fiercely pacifistic and anti-Nationalist views, Einstein’s Jewish identity began to influence his public stance on peace and war. In the midst of growing animosity from contemporaries and the public alike, Einstein’s identity of “otherness” as a Jew began to guide his career and personal life in a new direction. “The kinship he felt with fellow Jews due to their continued oppression reawakened some of his religious sentiments,” thus sending Einstein on a profoundly personal yet no less public journey of spiritual and political rebirth.

During the latter half of the nineteenth century, the desire and potential to move from villages and small towns to larger cities was widespread among young Jews in Germany. The “religious fervor of their forefathers had already disappeared or diminished among many of these Jews, who had begun the attempt to assimilate to life in a Christian environment. Hermann Einstein and his wife, Pauline, were among those young and ambitious Jews who sought an assimilated life in a big city. In 1881, when Albert was one, the family moved from the small town of Ulm to Munich. Although his parents did not practice the Jewish religion or observe Jewish traditions at home, Einstein’s upbringing was nonetheless deeply influenced by his Jewish identity. All Bavarian primary schools were denominational at the time, and the one Jewish school in Munich had been closed long before the Einstein’s arrived. At the age of seven, Einstein’s parents sent him to a nearby Catholic elementary school where he received Catholic religious instruction in addition to the academic curriculum. His desire to learn about religion was seemingly fueled by exposure to both Jewish and Catholic teachings; many years later, Einstein’s sister Maja recalled how her brother’s curiosity was piqued by these religious indoctrinations:

“He heard about divine will and works pleasing to God, a way of life in accord with the divine will, without these teachings being couched in a specific dogma. Nevertheless he was so full of religious fervor that on his own he observed religious prescriptions in every detail. For example, he ate no pork for reasons of conscience, not because his family set the example. He remained true to this self-chosen way of life for years.”

A young Einstein thus revealed a religious frame of mind, which, like many other aspects of his personality, his parents did not understand. He was remarkably capable of looking past differences and instead seeing similarities between the separate religious teachings, but at the same time he was painfully aware of his own social status as “other” for being a Jew. Even as a young child, Einstein was acutely aware of the recrudescence of anti-Semitism in the new German Empire. In a draft of a letter dated April 3, 1920, he recalled his childhood experiences of anti-Semitism in Munich:
Among the children, particularly in elementary school, anti-Semitism was rife. It was based on racial characteristics that, remarkably enough, were known to the children, and on impressions from religious education. Actual attacks and insults on the way to school were frequent, but generally not too bad. At any rate, they sufficed to instill in the child a vivid feeling of alienation.

These feelings of otherness that permeated Einstein’s childhood no doubt influenced his decision to officially register as konfessionslos, meaning “without religious affiliation,” at the age of sixteen. This is not to say that he no longer identified as a Jew, but rather, he rejected the notion that organized religion was the only acceptable path to a spiritual life.
With the exception of rare, isolated incidences, the beginning of Einstein’s career was uninhibited by his status as an assimilated Jew. By the end of World War I, Einstein’s fame was growing as news of his special theory of relativity (1905) and his general theory (1917) spread throughout the scientific community. Then, in 1919, a British expedition led by the British Physicist Sir Arthur Eddington traveled to tropical Africa to photograph a lunar eclipse. The expedition confirmed Einstein’s 1917 theory that light was bent by gravity – a discovery announced by J. J. Thomson, the President of the Royal Society, as “one of the greatest achievements in the history of human thought…It is not the discovery of an outlying island but if a whole continent of new ideas. It is the greatest discovery in connection with gravity since Newton enunciated his principles.” It was the confirmation of his theory that made him world-famous, but it was his personality that captured the attention of the public and truly made him the world’s first celebrity scientist. “

Instead of a dry academic, Einstein turned out to be kind of a beloved uncle, one who happened to be a genius – rumpled, endearingly and wryly funny.” He was honored and fêted everywhere as the embodiment of science and the cleverest man in the world, yet he remained astonishingly humble in his public demeanor. Einstein enjoyed the benefits of international fame by travelling extensively throughout Europe and Asia, meeting with fellow scientists, politicians and celebrities. He once mockingly compared himself with Midas: “everything he touched turned not to gold but to publicity.” His Jewishness played virtually no part in his rise to fame – he scarcely spoke publicly on the topic of religion in the beginnings of his career. He did, however, speak openly about his political beliefs: he was a staunch pacifist and internationalist, and vehemently opposed war in all capacities. In a letter to Paul Hutchinson, editor of Christian Century, Einstein wrote, “My pacifism is an instinctive feeling, a feeling that possesses me because the murder or people is disgusting. My attitude is not derived from any intellectual theory but is based on my deepest antipathy to every kind of cruelty and hatred.”

Yet as his scientific career blossomed, his personal life came under threat in his homeland. With the increasingly insidious rise of anti-Semitism in Germany, Einstein was forced to confront his Jewish identity once more, but this time in a position of previously unfathomable public influence. Before the resurgence of anti-Semitic policy in Germany, Einstein had scarcely identified himself publicly as a Jew, instead favoring assimilation, internationalism and shying away from specific group affiliations in general. But as the political climate in Germany grew more hostile, Einstein became more inclined to speak out about injustices faced by the Jews and his personal ties to Jewish culture. Zionism captured his attention and instilled in him a strong feeling of kin with his fellow Jews. In a letter to a the German chemist Fritz Haber, Einstein explained his new affinity for Zionism: “Despite my internationalist beliefs I have always felt an obligation to stand up for the persecuted and morally oppressed members of my tribe as much as I am able to.” Around this time he formed a close friendship with the president of the World Zionist Organization Chaim Weizmann, who convinced Einstein to join him on a trip to America in 1921 to raise money for the establishment of Hebrew University in Jerusalem. It was on this journey across America that Einstein “rediscovered” the Jewish people and pondered his own evolving identity as a Jew. The trip itinerary took them to New York City, Princeton, Boston, Cleveland and Chicago, where Einstein lectured at local universities and met with the Jewish communities, urging people to contribute to the creation of the Hebrew University. In a 1921 article published in the New York Times, Einstein expressed his personal connection to the establishment of the Hebrew University:

“I know of no public event that has given me such pleasure as the proposal to establish a Hebrew University in Jerusalem. The traditional respect for knowledge that Jews have maintained intact through many centuries of severe hardship has made it particularly painful for us to see so many talented sons of the Jewish people cut off from higher education.”

As Einstein grew more dedicated Zionism and advocating for the Jewish people, he became disenchanted with the notion of assimilation that his own parents had strived for. The increase of anti-Semitism in Europe only fueled these beliefs as reports of prejudice, discrimination and violence against Jews increased. In his manifesto-like book, On Zionism, he credits “undignified assimilationist cravings and strivings,” with awakening in him a new enthusiasm for a Jewish national sentiment. He continued:
Generally speaking, it does not accord with my ideal that communities bound together by the bond of race or tradition should make special efforts to cultivate and emphasize their separateness. In so far, however, as a given community is attacked as such, it is bound to defend itself as such.

Einstein’s support for Zionism only earned him more enemies in Germany. He was vehemently opposed by a small but powerful group of physicists who despised Einstein for his success and dismissed the theory of relativity as “a Jewish fraud.” In a Germany bewitched by the mystique of the fatherland and military might, Einstein was an outspoken pacifist, internationalist, and most precariously, a Jew. However, his international fame continued to expand, perhaps in part due to the confirmation of his groundbreaking expanding universe theory. Einstein’s increasingly isolated position in Germany during the 1920s was a source of great distress for him, but he remained outwardly calm and collected. It was during this time of great political unrest that Einstein gave his most candid and profound interview on the subject of religion and his beliefs in God. Critics of Einstein demanded an explanation of his claim to believe in God while also being a man of science; the implications of his expanding universe theory seemed, to most, incompatible with a belief in a higher power. It was in 1929, shortly after his fiftieth birthday, that Einstein gave his most revealing interview to date on the topics of God, religion, and spirituality. The interview took place at his home in Berlin and was carried out by the “pompous but ingratiating poet and propagandist,” George Sylvester Viereck. The interview served as the basis for an article in The Saturday Evening Post titled, “What Life Means to Einstein.” In the introduction, Viereck uses relativity to frame the zeitgeist of the time:

“Relativity! What word is more symbolic of the age? We have ceased to be positive of anything… Is there any standard that has not been challenged in this our post-war world? Is there any absolute system of ethics, of economics or of law, whose stability or permanence is not assailed somewhere. Can there be any permanent value or any absolute truth in a world in which time itself has lost its meaning, in which infinity becomes finite, and the finite is lost in the infinite?”

People viewed Einstein as the ultimate incarnation of the modern world. In his article Viereck observed that, “Einstein stands in a symbolic relation to our age – an age characterized by a revolt against the absolute in every sphere of science and of thought.” While the entire interview did not exclusively pertain to religion, Einstein’s statements on God and spirituality caught the attention of the masses in a profoundly personal way. He was asked if he considered himself a German or a Jew, to which he replied, “It’s possible to be both…Nationalism is an infantile disease, the measles of mankind.” Einstein’s views had evolved under the pressures of institutionalized anti-Semitism – no longer satisfied with the concept of Jewish assimilation, he advocated for preserving Jewish traditions and culture: “We Jews have been too eager to sacrifice our idiosyncrasies in order to conform.” Later in the interview Viereck asked innocently: do you believe in God? Einstein considered the question for a moment, then said:
I’m not an atheist. The problem involved is too vast for our limited minds. We are in the position of a little child entering a huge library filled with books in many languages. The child knows someone must have written these books. It does not know how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. The child dimly suspects a mysterious order in the arrangement of the books but doesn’t know what it is. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of even the most intelligent being toward God. We see the universe marvelously arranges and obeying certain laws but only dimly understand these laws.

His metaphorical response did not satisfy Viereck, who questioned whether his concept of God was a Jewish one. Einstein went on to explain, “I am a determinist. I do not believe in free will. Jews believe in free will. They believe that man shapes his own life. I reject that doctrine. In that respect I am not a Jew.” Einstein’s deterministic views about life seemed antithetical to his work as a champion of modernity in science. For some critics, only a clear belief in a “personal God who controls our daily lives” qualified as a satisfactory answer. In an attempt to clarify his views both for himself and for the public demanding answers, Einstein published his credo, “What I Believe,” concluding with an explanation of what he meant when he called himself religious:

“The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed. This insight into the mystery of life, coupled though it be with fear, has also given rise to religion. To know that what is impenetrable to us really exists, manifesting itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty which our dull faculties can comprehend only in their most primitive forms – this knowledge, this feeling, is at the center of true religiousness. In this sense, and in this sense only, I belong in the ranks of devoutly religious men.”

It was his disbelief in the notion of free will that most starkly contrasted with his Jewish identity. However controversial, Einstein’s deterministic views and belief in a supreme universal power served as essential precursors to how he approached his work in physics. In the words of the biographer Walter Isaacson, “whether embracing the beauty of his gravitational field equations or rejecting the uncertainty in quantum mechanics, he displayed a profound faith in the orderliness of the universe.” His religious feelings of awe and humility also informed his sense of social justice; he cringed at “trappings of hierarchy or class distinction,” rejected “excess consumption or materialism,” and dedicated himself to “efforts on behalf of refugees and the oppressed.” Einstein was remarkably content with very little, a characteristic that would inform his reputation as a profoundly humble person. He told Viereck:

“I am happy because I want nothing from anyone. I do not care for money. Decorations, titles or distinctions mean nothing to me. I do not crave praise. The only thing that gives me pleasure, apart from my work, my violin and my sailboat, is the appreciation of others.”

“Your modesty,” Viereck remarked, “does you credit.” Einstein rejected this compliment and went on to clarify so he would not be misunderstood:
I claim credit for nothing. Everything is determined, the beginning as well as the end, by forces over which we have no control. It is determined for the insect as well as for the star. Human beings, vegetables or cosmic dust, we all dance to a mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by an invisible player.

Einstein’s self-defined “cosmic religion” produced in him “an admixture of confidence and humility that was leavened by a sweet simplicity.” This cosmic religion, along with his wry sense of humor and never-ending pursuit of self-awareness, helped him avoid the arrogance and pomposity that could have blighted the most famous mind in the world.
In 1930, Hitler’s National Socialist Party, once an insignificant splinter group, won 18% of votes in the election and showed no signs of retreat. That year Einstein traveled to America for a second time at the invitation of the California Institute of Technology in California, where he was adored and protected from political unrest. He was delighted by America and its democratic ways, but he continued to call Germany home for another two years. When Hitler was made chancellor in January 1933, Einstein was in California at Caltech. There was an outpouring of anti-Jewish propaganda from the German press in which Einstein was specifically singled out, accused of “cultural internationalism, international treason, and pacifist excesses.” Einstein seemed to understand immediately that he would never return home, recognizing the indomitable strength of Hitler’s regime. On March 11, 1933, Einstein issued a statement to the press on his fundamental opposition to the Hitler regime that would serve as his political manifesto for the next twelve years:

“As long as I have any choice, I will only stay in a country where political liberty, tolerance, and equality of all citizens before the law prevail…These conditions do not exist in Germany at the present time.”

Realizing his life would be in danger if he did not leave Berlin permanently, he willingly forfeited his German citizenship and began his search for a new home. By the end of 1934 Einstein had relocated permanently to Princeton. There he enjoyed a peaceful and intellectually stimulating life, protected from persecution and much admired by everyone at the university until his death in 1955.

Throughout his life, Einstein’s appeal was complex and dynamic; he was known first and foremost as a man of science, but his philosophical insights on life remain a close second in his career and legacy. His controversial opinions and enigmatic personality captivated people around the world, particularly when it came to his religious life. He felt strongly influenced by the bond of Jewish cultural values, including “the democratic ideal of social justice, coupled with the ideal of mutual aid and tolerance among all men,” but rejected the restrictive dogma of Judeo-Christian notions of God. For thousands of years, philosophers have grappled with concepts such as free will, determinism, and the human desire for spiritual connection. Einstein denied the suggestion that he himself was a philosopher, telling Viereck, “I am solely a physicist,” but his opinions on such matters bear the crest of a deeply philosophical man. As the world’s favorite genius, he came to embody the very spirit and essence of progressive thought in the 20th century. It would be foolish to attempt to separate Einstein’s scientific contributions from his cosmic religion: the two were inextricably connected. “The highest satisfaction of a scientific person,” he wrote in 1929, is to come to the realization that “God himself could not have arranged these connections any other way than that which does exist, any more than it would have been in His power to make four a prime number.” Today, popular opinion tends to regard science and religion as incompatible. Einstein believed that the human spirit is capable of accommodating both reason and religion in our pursuit of wholeness. While Dr. Harvey claimed that Einstein’s brain would provide us with structural explanations for his genius, the lump of brain matter left him wanting for answers. In a world shifting towards modernity and scientific discovery, his notions of religion were perhaps erroneously considered separate from his brilliance. His capacity to think abstractly and his proclivity for tackling inconceivable concepts were shaped by his trust in the cosmic forces of nature – thus, the world truly fell in love with Einstein because of his cosmic religion and not in spite of it.

Works Cited

Caprice, Alice. The Expanded Quotable Einstein. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000.
Einstein, Albert. “Letter to Paul Hutchinson, July 1929.” In The Albert Einstein Archives edited by Dr. Roni Grosz and Bern Dibner. Jerusalem: The Hebrew University, 2000-2010.
Einstein, Albert. About Zionism, Translated by Leon Simon, London: The Sonico Press, 1930.
Einstein, Albert “Political Manifesto, 11 March 1933.” In The Albert Einstein Archives edited by Dr. Roni Grosz and Bern Dibner. Jerusalem: The Hebrew University, 2000-2010.
Frank, Phillipp. Einstein: His Life and Times, Translated by George Rosen, Edited by Shuichi Kusaka, New York: De Capo Press, 2002.
Isaacson, Walter. Einstein: His Life and Universe. New York, NY: Simon & Schuster, 2007.
Lacayo, Richard. “Albert Einstein: The Enduring Legacy of a Modern Genius,” Time, July 2011.
Medawar, Jean and David Pyke. Hitler’s Gift: The True Story of the Scientists Expelled by the Nazi Regime. New York, NY: Arcade Publishing Inc., 2000.
Rowe, David E. and Robert Schulmann. Einstein on Politics: His Private Thoughts and Public Stands on Nationalism, Zionism, War, Peace, and the Bomb, Woodstock, UK: Princeton University Press, 2007.
Stachel, John. Einstein from ‘B’ to ‘Z’. Boston, MA: Center for Einstein Studies, 2002.
Viereck, George Sylvester. “What Life Means to Einstein.” Saturday Evening Post, Oct. 26, 1929.
Author Unknown. “Son Asked Study of Einstein’s Brain,” New York Times, April 20, 1955.