university—although it had produced one or two people of note such as
Gottlob Frege the logician—but it was all Haber could aspire to at the time.
If he took anything from his unhappy stay there it was that he now finally
decided what he wanted to do with his life. Whatever the outcome, he would
pursue a career as an academic scientist. Disillusioned with his progress in
organic chemistry he summoned up the courage to apply (again), for a
research assistantship with Ostwald. Despite several attempts, and a single
disappointing interview, he failed to get the job—Ostwald never ‘warming’ to
Haber as a person. Haber remained at Jena.
Once again failure visited Haber’s life, but so much failure it seemed, had
to have a reason and he felt that reason to be his Jewishness. Haber had
suspected as much when his military ambitions were stifled, thoughts of his
father’s life and the modest achievements available to a Jew flooded his mind.
Germany’s academic structure seemed closed to non-Christians so in
November 1892 at the age of 24, and maybe as an act of desperation, he
stood before the baptismal font of the largest Lutheran church in Jena, recited
the Apostle’s creed and converted to Christianity. This aspect of Haber’s life
is complex and historians have tried to analyse his motive. Was it a reflection
of his failure? A kick against his father? An awareness that progress in
Germany was more rapid amongst those Jews who had converted, or just a
cynical trade-off by Haber—his Judaism for (eventually) a Chair? The Habers
were not particularly Jewish in practise (the names ‘Fritz,’ and ‘Siegfried’ for
example are pure Germanic) and so Fritz may well have thought that the
move to Christianity would be seamless but even after his conversion he
remained as Jewish as ever, to others, and even in his own eyes.
Haber’s conversion changed very little and he may well have stagnated at
Jena but for the sad demise of a friend which finally gave him the opening he
craved. In later life Haber was often regarded as ‘Geheimrat’
21 and a raconteur par excellence. He delighted in telling the long story of how chance took
him from Jena to Karlsruhe and launched him on his career but his young life
was always dignified by the pleasure he took in helping others, and in Jena he
had a friend whose suffering during a long and painful illness he had helped to
mitigate by every means in his power. Despite his best efforts his friend
eventually died. At the funeral, his friend’s brother—learning of Haber’s
desire to leave Jena—suggested the Technische Hochschule at Karlsruhe
where he said he had an influential relation who would, as a mark of gratitude, recommend him most warmly. Haber took up the suggestion but on
visiting Karlsruhe he found that the relative was a porter
1 in the chemistry
department! Even so, this contact was sufficient for Haber to get an interview
with the Professor who—like Ostwald—received him coldly, but eventually
46
D. Sheppard
Gottlob Frege the logician—but it was all Haber could aspire to at the time.
If he took anything from his unhappy stay there it was that he now finally
decided what he wanted to do with his life. Whatever the outcome, he would
pursue a career as an academic scientist. Disillusioned with his progress in
organic chemistry he summoned up the courage to apply (again), for a
research assistantship with Ostwald. Despite several attempts, and a single
disappointing interview, he failed to get the job—Ostwald never ‘warming’ to
Haber as a person. Haber remained at Jena.
Once again failure visited Haber’s life, but so much failure it seemed, had
to have a reason and he felt that reason to be his Jewishness. Haber had
suspected as much when his military ambitions were stifled, thoughts of his
father’s life and the modest achievements available to a Jew flooded his mind.
Germany’s academic structure seemed closed to non-Christians so in
November 1892 at the age of 24, and maybe as an act of desperation, he
stood before the baptismal font of the largest Lutheran church in Jena, recited
the Apostle’s creed and converted to Christianity. This aspect of Haber’s life
is complex and historians have tried to analyse his motive. Was it a reflection
of his failure? A kick against his father? An awareness that progress in
Germany was more rapid amongst those Jews who had converted, or just a
cynical trade-off by Haber—his Judaism for (eventually) a Chair? The Habers
were not particularly Jewish in practise (the names ‘Fritz,’ and ‘Siegfried’ for
example are pure Germanic) and so Fritz may well have thought that the
move to Christianity would be seamless but even after his conversion he
remained as Jewish as ever, to others, and even in his own eyes.
Haber’s conversion changed very little and he may well have stagnated at
Jena but for the sad demise of a friend which finally gave him the opening he
craved. In later life Haber was often regarded as ‘Geheimrat’
21 and a raconteur par excellence. He delighted in telling the long story of how chance took
him from Jena to Karlsruhe and launched him on his career but his young life
was always dignified by the pleasure he took in helping others, and in Jena he
had a friend whose suffering during a long and painful illness he had helped to
mitigate by every means in his power. Despite his best efforts his friend
eventually died. At the funeral, his friend’s brother—learning of Haber’s
desire to leave Jena—suggested the Technische Hochschule at Karlsruhe
where he said he had an influential relation who would, as a mark of gratitude, recommend him most warmly. Haber took up the suggestion but on
visiting Karlsruhe he found that the relative was a porter
1 in the chemistry
department! Even so, this contact was sufficient for Haber to get an interview
with the Professor who—like Ostwald—received him coldly, but eventually
46
D. Sheppard