The Satanic Cosmic Force 127
In Life and Fate, nuclear physics figure not only in a metaphorical but also
in a very concrete, political sense. In the course of the novel, Viktor Shtrum
realizes with growing qualms that the implications of his theoretical research
reach far beyond the realm of mathematical abstraction: together with his
colleagues, he is contributing to the development of a Soviet nuclear bomb.
Shtrum’s considerations proceed from general doubts about science unfettered by moral restraints to the awareness that with the advent of nuclear
technology, humanity has entered a stage where such questions gain an
unprecedented, existential urgency. From early on, it dawns upon Shtrum
that science may have become an “ally of the terrible century” that gave rise
to fascism. With growing unease, he observes the self-contentedness of his
physicist colleagues, who refuse to pay heed to the ethical aspects of their
trade, while a writer like Lev Tolstoi never ceased to question the moral justifiability of his art. 88
For Shtrum, the nuclear age opens up what Günther Anders has termed
the “Promethean gap,” 89 i.e. the discrepancy between humanity’s capacity
to create weapons of apocalyptic potential and its ability to comprehend,
let alone deal with the consequences of its own creation. In a discussion with
a sympathetic fellow physicist, Shtrum perceives moral evolution to be fatally
lagging behind technological progress. While nuclear science will doubtlessly grant humanity omnipotence, this omnipotence could turn out to be
satanic rather than divine.
For a time, the division of labor and competence inherent in technological
culture makes it easy for Shtrum to ignore his own role in facilitating mass
annihilation. The same mechanism of dissociation that in Abel (August 6th)
keeps the crew of the Enola Gay from facing their responsibility for the devastation of Hiroshima also works for the nuclear physicists, who in Life and Fate
rush to develop a Soviet bomb (although this is never explicitly mentioned)
at Stalin’s behest. There is “a long way” from the seclusion of the desks, laboratories, libraries of the few leading nuclear physicists to the “satanic cosmic
force” that will become the “scepter of state power,” and while this distance
allows the physicists to pursue their goal with purely scientific zeal, it also
casts a shadow on Moscow and New York that will soon thicken into darkness. 90 For Shtrum, these distancing mechanisms temporarily break down,
and it is the Shoah that brings about this change. A letter from his mother,
written shortly before her death at the hands of the German Einsatzgruppen,
not only compels him to confront his lack of empathy during the Stalinist
purges and the terror of collectivization but also brings into focus the potentially genocidal consequences of his own nuclear research.
Initially, Shtrum soothes his conscience with the belief that only those
scientists who serve Hitler are subject to the moral quandary lurking in
their field. When, however, he is personally confronted with the rising
anti-Semitism under Stalin, his scruples as to the potential consequences of
his own scientific activity are exacerbated to a point where they can no longer
be ignored. More and more, Shtrum struggles with the awareness that while
In Life and Fate, nuclear physics figure not only in a metaphorical but also
in a very concrete, political sense. In the course of the novel, Viktor Shtrum
realizes with growing qualms that the implications of his theoretical research
reach far beyond the realm of mathematical abstraction: together with his
colleagues, he is contributing to the development of a Soviet nuclear bomb.
Shtrum’s considerations proceed from general doubts about science unfettered by moral restraints to the awareness that with the advent of nuclear
technology, humanity has entered a stage where such questions gain an
unprecedented, existential urgency. From early on, it dawns upon Shtrum
that science may have become an “ally of the terrible century” that gave rise
to fascism. With growing unease, he observes the self-contentedness of his
physicist colleagues, who refuse to pay heed to the ethical aspects of their
trade, while a writer like Lev Tolstoi never ceased to question the moral justifiability of his art. 88
For Shtrum, the nuclear age opens up what Günther Anders has termed
the “Promethean gap,” 89 i.e. the discrepancy between humanity’s capacity
to create weapons of apocalyptic potential and its ability to comprehend,
let alone deal with the consequences of its own creation. In a discussion with
a sympathetic fellow physicist, Shtrum perceives moral evolution to be fatally
lagging behind technological progress. While nuclear science will doubtlessly grant humanity omnipotence, this omnipotence could turn out to be
satanic rather than divine.
For a time, the division of labor and competence inherent in technological
culture makes it easy for Shtrum to ignore his own role in facilitating mass
annihilation. The same mechanism of dissociation that in Abel (August 6th)
keeps the crew of the Enola Gay from facing their responsibility for the devastation of Hiroshima also works for the nuclear physicists, who in Life and Fate
rush to develop a Soviet bomb (although this is never explicitly mentioned)
at Stalin’s behest. There is “a long way” from the seclusion of the desks, laboratories, libraries of the few leading nuclear physicists to the “satanic cosmic
force” that will become the “scepter of state power,” and while this distance
allows the physicists to pursue their goal with purely scientific zeal, it also
casts a shadow on Moscow and New York that will soon thicken into darkness. 90 For Shtrum, these distancing mechanisms temporarily break down,
and it is the Shoah that brings about this change. A letter from his mother,
written shortly before her death at the hands of the German Einsatzgruppen,
not only compels him to confront his lack of empathy during the Stalinist
purges and the terror of collectivization but also brings into focus the potentially genocidal consequences of his own nuclear research.
Initially, Shtrum soothes his conscience with the belief that only those
scientists who serve Hitler are subject to the moral quandary lurking in
their field. When, however, he is personally confronted with the rising
anti-Semitism under Stalin, his scruples as to the potential consequences of
his own scientific activity are exacerbated to a point where they can no longer
be ignored. More and more, Shtrum struggles with the awareness that while