owed Nazism. The “Antiqua–Fraktur dispute,” as
it became known, culminated in a heated debate
in the imperial German Reichstag on 4 May 1911,
during which a proposal to begin instruction of
young children in Antiqua and Latin cursive re-
ceived 85 votes in favor to 82 against. It neverthe-
less failed because the 397-member body failed to
reach a quorum. In other words, a majority of the
German Reichstag chose to dodge the question.
(The Antiqua–Fraktur dispute was not a histori-
cal outlier; similar battles over potential reforms
to handwriting or typography were occurring dur-
ing this period in what are now Turkey, Russia,
and China.)
To be sure, there were exceptions to the gen-
eral rule that conservatives preferred Fraktur and
Kurrent and liberals preferred Antiqua and Latin
script. Before 1933, most German-language news-
papers of all political leanings were printed in
Fraktur. Thus many of Einstein’s pre-1933 pop-
ular writings were typeset in Fraktur. Older in-
dividuals who grew up with Kurrent—including
prominent intellectuals like Planck and Sigmund
Freud—often kept writing in it.
In any event, choosing a handwriting script
became an increasingly political act. Given Ein-
stein’s pacifism and his abhorrence of German mil-
itarism and nationalism, it seems highly probable
that Einstein switched to Latin cursive in 1905 for
political reasons as well as practical ones. Despite
living in Switzerland at that time, he likely wanted
to signal to foreign colleagues that he was toler-
ant, open to international communication, and not
a rabid German nationalist.
Einstein’s handwriting
After the shift, Einstein’s handwriting remained
remarkably consistent. It very much resembles the
cursive still taught in some schools today.
Some Germans in Einstein’s time who shifted
to writing in Latin script incorporated Kurrent-
style letters or flourishes into their Latin
script—most commonly a little divot above the
lowercase u, which in Kurrent was meant to dis-
tinguish it from n and m. But Einstein made a
clean break from Kurrent; his Latin script lacks
any traces of the old German script in it. He even
stopped using the eszett (β), the special German
letter denoting the combination of a “long s” (f)
and a “short s” (the lowercase s used today). (The
“long s” is not unique to German; it was used in
English until the early 19th century and is visible
on older handwritten documents such as the Dec-
laration of Independence.) Most Germans who
switched from Kurrent to the Latin script retained
the eszett in their handwriting, and it is still used
today in printed and handwritten German. The
funny extra loop on Einstein’s uppercase E isn’t
from Kurrent; it’s just one of those handwriting
quirks that make us all distinct.
What happened to Kurrent and Fraktur?
Ironically, it wasn’t the Allies’ victory in 1945 that
led to their demise but a decree by the Nazis them-
selves. Although many Nazis despised Antiqua,
Adolf Hitler did not. Fraktur and Kurrent were
too provincial for his megalomaniacal visions. If
the Germans were to be the master race, he ar-
gued, conquered peoples would need to be able
to read their language—and how could they do
so if German was printed and written in a script
that was so hard to decipher? At the height of
his power, in January 1941, Hitler issued a de-
cree to phase out Kurrent and Fraktur. Absurdly,
it claimed that the scripts had been invented by
Jews. Attempts to bring back instruction in Kur-
rent in postwar West Germany went nowhere, and
communist East Germany had no interest in res-
urrecting a script associated with conservative na-
tionalists. Today most German speakers can’t
read the script at all.
Ryan Dahn is the books editor at Physics
Today. A historian of science, he studies 19th-
and 20th-century physics in the German-speaking
lands. He is working on a biography of German
physicist Pascual Jordan tentatively titled Nazi
Entanglement.
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