Dulce Et Decorum Est: The Legacies of Fritz Haber

05/29/21 • 67 min

Note: This episode contains a description of a poison gas attack in World War I and a discussion of the injuries caused by different gases. I do not dwell on the details, but even the bare facts can be disturbing. There is also a discussion of suicide. Take care of yourself, and thank you.

The title of this episode is taken from a famous poem by writer and soldier Wilfred A. Owen. His 1918 poem "Dulce et Decorum Est" quotes another poet, the Roman lyricist Horace, and his line "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." This translates as "It is sweet and fitting [appropriate, proper] to die for one's country."

Fritz Haber was born in 1868 to Jewish parents in the town of Breslau, Germany. He received his Ph.D. in chemistry and earned a reputation as a hardworking and painstaking researcher. In 1919, he was both accused of war crimes and awarded a Nobel Prize.

Ancient farmers understood the role of nitrogen in the soil, although they couldn't have told you what nitrogen was or how it worked. They knew, however, that land lost its productivity when it was farmed extensively. Farmers could renew their soil to some degree by adding dung and compost to the land.

They also knew crop rotation was important. Medieval farmers, such as those seen in this image, generally used a three-field system. One field was used for grains, one for peas or lentils, and one left fallow.

In the 19th century, scientists learned about the role of nitrogen in living things and discovered how certain bacteria are able to "fix" nitrogen and make it available to plants. The bacteria, known as "diazotrophs," are found in nodules such as you see above in the roots of plants such as peas and lentils.

Crop rotation and manure were the best farmers could do until the discovery of the incredible effectiveness of South American guano in the mid-1900s. The above image depicts one of the islands off the coast of Peru where birds had deposited guano for millions of years. You can see the guano formed massive peaks. Miners hacked away at the guano so it could be exported to Europe and North America.

Germany, like most modern nations, became heavily dependent on these imports, both for fertilizer and to make explosives.

Clara Immerwahr Haber married Haber in 1901. She was the first woman to receive a Ph.D. from her university in Germany, a remarkable achievement for a woman in her era. Haber, however, expected only to keep house.

Haber began work on ammonia synthesis in 1904. It was a matter of slow, painstaking work tinkering with temperature, pressure and the right catalyst. Above is a reconstruction of Haber's final table-top process.

I compared the setup to the 1970s board game "Mousetrap." Haber's setup looks simpler than the Rube Goldberg contraption in the game, but his device was far more dangerous and likely to explode and send red-hot shrapnel flying everywhere.

Carl Bosch, a brilliant engineer with the German chemical giant BASF, took over the ammonia synthesis project from Haber. He refined the process and expanded it to an industrial scale. His work was significant, which is why the process is known today as Haber-Bosch.

The announcement of the invention of the ammonia process brought Haber international acclaim. His income soared, he became famous in Germany and soonhe was appointed the founding director of the new Kaiser Wilhelm Institute of Physical Chemistry and Electrochemistry. The institute is seen here shortly after its construction in 1911; it was a government-founded research organization and think tank, intended to keep Germany at the forefront of scientific research.

When the Great War began, Haber immediately volunteered for service. He is seen here, at the front; he is the one pointing. He dedicated himself to using chemistry to win the war. One of his first contributions was to convince BASF to convert their ammonia factory to make the starting materials for explosives. This was a critical step for Germany, one that doesn't receive as much attention as it deserves. Without the BASF factories, Germany would have run out of explosives early in the war.

Haber also worked on an experimental program to develop chemical weapons. He eventually convinced the German High Command to test a system that would release the highly toxic chlorine gas across No Man's Land to the Allied troops on the other side.

Here you can see the gas flowing across the line toward the Allies at the first attack at Ypres on April 22, 1915. The gas killed or severely injured those who inhaled it in large quantities--and terrified those who saw it in action. This attack opened a four-mile wide hole in the Allied lines, injured 15,000 Allied soldiers and killed 5000.

The attack was immediately condemned by everyone except Germany. Kaiser Wilhelm, delighted by the attack,...

Germany, like most modern nations, became heavily dependent on these imports, both for fertilizer and to make explosives.

The attack was immediately condemned by everyone except Germany. Kaiser Wilhelm, delighted by the attack,...

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The Last Night of the Bubbling Glass: The Passage of the 18th Amendment

By 1914, the temperance movement had achieved significant gains in its goal to outlaw the sale of alcohol in the United States. But every push for nationwide prohibition had failed. Would the war--and the accompanying anti-German hysteria--give the Anti-Saloon League enough power to cross the finish line? Was a golden age of sobriety waiting on the other side?

The Temperance Movement began in the 1840s and gained significant momentum through the rest of the century. Women were major leaders in the movement, with many pledging to never let the lips that touch liquor touch theirs. Unfortunately, this seemed to have little effect.

In the second half of the 19th century, an influx of immigrants from beer-loving countries, including Germany and Ireland, dramatically increased the consumption of beer in the United States. German brewers arrived to meet the demand. The most successful among these brewers was Adolphus Busch. As owner of Anheuser-Busch, he built a massive, vertically integrated operation that controlled every aspect of beer production and distribution, from mining the coal that fueled the brewery to building the refrigerated railcars to deliver the beer to Anheuser-Busch owned saloons.

Saloons were more than watering holes. They were hubs for the entire community and played important roles in the lives of patrons, especially when those patrons were recent immigrants.

Pictured here is a saloon in Wisconsin. Notice the little boy sitting at the table with his own beer glass. Boys often accompanied their fathers to saloons. Women and girls, however, were not welcome, and a woman who stepped in a saloon ruined her reputation.

Here's another saloon, this one from Michigan. In a saloon, men could meet friends, participate in local politics, eat a free lunch, take a bath, find a job, get his mail and pawn his watch.

By 1900, most saloons were "tied houses." That is, they were tied to, if not actually owned by, breweries. In exchange for agreeing to sell only one brand of beer, a barkeeper would receive cash for his licensing fees, an inventory of glassware, and the furnishings for the saloon, including the pool tables and the mirrors on the walls.

This photo shows a Miller bar in Chicago.

Temperance activists believed saloons were evil through and through. This cartoon, probably from the mid- to late-19th century, shows children desperately calling for the father, who stands in his natty coat and top hat at the bar. The bartender is a grinning skull, and another skull atop crossed bottles decorates in the bar. In the background, a brawl has broken out. Clearly, nothing good happens at a saloon!

Women's rights activists in particular believed that alcohol was the cause of domestic violence. In this illustration, a drunken man takes a swing at his wife as his children cling to his legs. Many woman suffragists believed that prohibition would stop violence in the home.

The Anti-Saloon League became a force to be reckoned with by organizing all of the anti-alcohol groups. The League was led by Wayne Wheeler, a genial midwesterner that author Daniel Okrent noted resembled Ned Flanders. In fact, Wheeler was a passionate, focused organizer with a backbone of steel who could make or break political careers.

Breweries tried reframe beer as a health-giving, nourishing beverage. The Saskatoon Brewing Company tried to sell their beer as "liquid bread."

Knickerbocker Beer ran ads declaring "Beer is Food" and claiming that beer was not only "a wonderful aid to digestion" and a "valuable source of energy" but also "a mainstay of practical temperance."

An Anti-Prohibition coalition produced this ad, showing a fat and happy baby drinking a stein of beer. No one was convinced by any of these campaigns.

Once the United States entered World War I, a new argument began to be made against the alcohol industry: it wasted food and fuel. Americans were called upon to save food for the military, as well as for the British, French and Belgians. The Anti-Saloon League argued that the alcohol industry wasted tons of food and fuel.

In this cartoon, Uncle Sam puts up posters calling to save food and fuel while the saloon tosses out barrels not only of goods but also of "wasted manhood."

"Non-essential" was an insult during the war--anything non-essential to winning the war was useless and to be despised. Here a woman clad in an American flag hurls the word at a fat man identified as "Booze."

In late 1917, riding the wave of anti-alcohol sentiment, the Dry alliance pushed the 18th Amendment through Congress. It went to the states for ratification.

The Anti-Saloon League coordinated the ratification fight with an attack on the United States Brewers Association and an immigrant association it had long backed, the German American Alliance. The League convinced the Senate, a...

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The Pursuit of Truth: Eddington, Einstein, and the Eclipse of 1919

In 1914, most scientists claimed their work knew no borders, but the Great War slammed the door on international scientific cooperation. So when a obscure German physicist named Albert Einstein presented a radical new explanation of gravity, he feared no one outside of Germany would be willing to help confirm his theory. He had no idea that his work would come to the attention of the one man able to make the critical observations and willing to explore German ideas--the pacifist astronomer Arthur Eddington.

Arthur Stanley Eddington was born in 1882 to a devout Quaker family. He would remain a faithful member of the Society of Friends his entire life and shared their deep conviction in pacifism and opposition to war.

Eddington's first total solar eclipse was in October 1912. This map show the path of totality. Eddington was stationed with several teams from around the world in Passa Quatro, Brazil. Unfortunately, the eclipse was rained out--an all-too-common occurance.

While in Brazil, Eddington was likely told about the work of the still-obscure German physicist Albert Einstein. Einstein, seen here with his first wife Mileva, had already published several groundbreaking papers and had begun his work on general relativity. In 1913, he moved to Berlin to teach at the University of Berlin and become the director of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute for Physics.

Einstein discussed his Theory of General Relativity with the German astronomer Erwin Freundlich, seen here looking like the villian in an early silent movie. Freundlich passed the ideas on Charles Dillon Perrine, who most likely described them Eddington. Freundlich mounted an expedition to observe the 1914 eclipse in Russia to prove Einstein's predictions on the deflection of starlight.

The 1914 eclipse passed over Sweden and Norway, into Russia, and down through the Ottoman Empire and Persia. Astronomers believed they would have the best conditions in Ukraine and Crimea, and many of them set up there in late summer 1914.

War broke out before the eclipse took place. Freundlich and his German team were detained by Russian officials. British and American teams were able to go on with their work, but again, the eclipse was rained out. The teams then face the difficult task of getting out of war-time Russia. They all had to leave their equipment behind, and getting it back was a lingering headache. The American team didn't receive their telescope and cameras until 1918.

This fascinating graphic from the weekly British illustrated newspaper The Graphic combines a map of the path of totality with a map of the conflict in Belgium and northern France, Serbia, and the Russian border. The graphic ominously describes "The Shadow Sweeping Across Europe."

Allied outrage at German atrocities in Belgium prompted a spirited defense of German actions by scientists, writers, artists and theologians including Fritz Haber. The "Manifesto to the Civilized World," also known as the "Manifesto of the 93," offended Allied scientists and prompted many to call for complete repudiation of German science. Einstein refused to sign the Manifesto.

British scientists relentlessly hounded German-born astronomer Arthur Schuster, despite the fact he had moved to Britain as a teenager. His son served in the British army and was wounded in the Dardanelles.

At the same time, British physicist James Chadwick, who was studying in Germany in 1914, was detained in a former racetrack. He remained in German custody under dire conditions until the Armistice.

Einstein published his complete Theory of Relativity in November 1915. One of the few German scientists who showed any interest was astronomer Karl Schwartzchild. Schwartzchild was serving in the army on the Russian front, where he put his advanced mathematic skills to use calculating artillery trajectories. In his spare time, while under heavy Russian fire, he worked through the math in Einstein's paper. He demonstrated that the math worked beautifully to calculate the movements of planets and stars. He also inadvertently, and without at all realizing it, discovered black holes.

Britain tried to fight the Great War with a volunteer army, but by 1916 it was clear conscription would be necessary. Men could claim exemption for hardship, work of national importance, and conscientious objection. The goverment established tribunals to issue these exemptions but offered no guidance on qualifications.

Conscientious objectors were deeply suspect as slackers and cowards. In this editorial cartoon, a lazy conscientious objector lounges before a fire with a cigar ignoring images of his entire family doing war work. It is titled "This little pig stayed home."