2 of 11

Goudsmit's book provided the first interpretation of Heisenberg's wartime work. It was a highly negative, even hostile, evaluation and drove a wedge between himself and Heisenberg that they were never able to eliminate entirely. Nevertheless, Goudsmit's attitude softened over the years until he was able to deliver the following as the closing paragraph of Heisenberg's obituary:

Heisenberg was a very great physicist, a deep thinker, a fine human being, and also a courageous person. He was one of the greatest physicists of our time, but he suffered severely under the unwarranted attacks by fanatical colleagues. In my opinion he must be considered to have been in some respects a victim of the Nazi regime.

One cannot help admiring Goudsmit's generous spirit of forgiveness.

Goudsmit's remarkable book was deeply resented by the repatriated German nuclear physicists, several of whom continued to proclaim publicly that they did not build a bomb for Hitler because of "moral scruples." The most aggressive proponent of this myth was Carl Friedrich von Weiszacker, a student of Heisenberg's who had also been interned at Farm Hall. Von Weiszacker was more political than Heisenberg and was eager to refurbish reputations tarnished by Goudsmit.

So, Heisenberg, why did you come to Copenhagen in 1941? It was right that you told us about all the fears you had. But you didn't really think I'd tell you whether the Americans were working on a bomb.

Niels Bohr, in Copenhagen, Act One

In 1949 Swiss journalist Robert Jungk, with the help of von Weiszacker, published Brighter Than a Thousand Suns, attempting to discredit Goudsmit's indictment by providing a very readable account of the German physicists' claims to have sabotaged Hitler's bomb project. Jungk later—much later—admitted that his influential account was bogus and apologized for the "spreading of the myth of passive resistance by the most important German physicists." He acknowledged that he had been "blinded by his esteem for those impressive personalities."1

In 1962, General Leslie Groves, who had been the military coordinator for the Manhattan project and who had seen the still-classified Farm Hall transcripts, provided his account in Now It Can Be Told. Groves covered the entire Manhattan Project; insofar as he dealt with the German counterpart, he echoed Goudsmit's earlier version. Groves's book was the first to mention the existence of the Farm Hall transcripts, a revelation that got historians clamoring for their declassification.

In the meantime, however, the Heisenberg History was steadily reinforced by ever more ingenious claims by the German physicists about how they had withheld the bomb from Hitler. Heisenberg carried the mystery with him to his death in 1976, but in 1980 Elizabeth Heisenberg published her account, Inner Exile, providing a tragic insider's perspective on her famous husband. Based less on the kind of documents that historians love, and more on the self-interested personal interpretations that arouse their suspicion, this memoir nevertheless provides a number of critical insights which, because of their great explanatory power, seem to ring true. Mrs. Heisenberg argues that her famous husband was never really confronted seriously with the prospects of building a bomb for Hitler. Initial estimates had indicated that the project had a time frame that was simply too long for leaders whose horizons were bounded entirely by the war.

next page... |  2 of 11

share this page