Introduction

In 1924, Karl von Frisch (1886–1982), together with Alfred Kühn,Footnote 1 founded the Journal of Comparative Physiology A, then under its German title Zeitschrift für vergleichende Physiologie (for a historical account see Zupanc 2022). He served as its Editor-in-Chief until 1960. For his pioneering research at the interface in ethology and sensory physiology, he shared the 1973 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine with Konrad LorenzFootnote 2 and Niko Tinbergen.Footnote 3 His major discoveries include hearing and SchreckstoffFootnote 4 of fish, as well as color and polarization vision and the dance language in honeybees (Fig. 1).

Fig. 1
figure 1

Karl von Frisch performing an odor experiment in the garden of the Alte Akademie (Old Academy) in Munich, around 1930. In this experiment, bees were trained to enter the inside of cardboard boxes through the round hole in front, where they learned to associate the presence of sugar water with a specific floral scent, such as jasmine oil. Courtesy: Bayerische Staatsbibliothek München/Bildarchiv

Karl von Frisch’s name is inextricably linked to Munich and the University of Munich. From 1908 to 1909, he studied zoology there for three semesters under Richard HertwigFootnote 5; from 1910 to 1912, he was an assistant of Hertwig at the Zoological Institute of the University of Munich and, in 1925, he succeeded him as OrdinariusFootnote 6; in 1946, he retired from his position but returned to the University of Munich in 1950; in 1958, he retired but continued research at the University as emeritus professor; in 1973, he received the Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine while he resided in Munich; and, in 1982, he died in Munich, where he is also buried.

While Karl von Frisch enjoyed his greatest successes in Munich, he also suffered the worst humiliation of his life during his tenure at the University of Munich. After two assistants of the Zoological Institute had denounced him as having a Jewish grandmother in 1936, he was categorized as a so-called ‘quarter-Jew.’Footnote 7 In January 1941, he was informed by the Bayerisches Staatsministerium für Unterricht und Kultus (Bavarian State Ministry for Education and Culture) that, due to his ancestry, the Nazi Reichsministerium für Wissenschaft, Erziehung und Volksbildung (Reich Ministry of Science, Education, and National Culture) would seek his early retirement from his Ordinarius position.Footnote 8 Karl von Frisch fought this decision and, with the help of some influential supporters (including Munich zoologists who signed a petition letter to the Reich Ministry of Science, Education, and National Culture), he finally succeeded, in 1942, in delaying forced retirement to lead the scientific efforts to combat the Nosema infection that raged across European bee colonies and resulted in devastating losses in the early 1940s (for review see Zupanc 2024 in this issue).

Given the threat by the Nazis that Karl von Frisch faced after 1936, it is surprising that he succeeded not only in keeping his position as Ordinarius and director of the Zoological Institute but also in making what perhaps were the most significant discoveries of his scientific career. These accomplishments are even more surprising, as he has been widely considered an “opponent of the Nazi regime” (Föger and Taschwer 2001, p. 158).Footnote 9

A litmus test for assessing the validity of this notion was provided after we had discovered during the historical research presented here that four of the six core members of the anti-Nazi resistance group Weiße Rose (White Rose) were students of him; and made documented attempts to win over to their cause at least two of his associates, and perhaps von Frisch himself.

Surprisingly, however, we did not find any indication that he ever supported the White Rose, acknowledged their activism, or even just mentioned their existence. Yet, further research suggested that his supposed ignorance of White Rose as the most significant non-violent anti-Nazi resistance group aligns well with his lifelong determination to “stay out of politics” so that he could do research without any distraction. This attitude explains how, during the time when the war reached its most brutal phase and political oppression became worse than ever before, he succeeded in making what perhaps are the most impactful discoveries of his scientific career, ultimately establishing his fame as one of the leading zoologists of the twentieth century.

Paradoxically, his apolitical attitude did not prevent him from using politics, including the mobilization of the help of influential Nazis and the demonstration of loyalty to Hitler’s government, to advance his scientific agenda. His willingness to employ such a delicate strategy clearly shows that the picture of him as an opponent of the Nazi regime needs to be repainted.

Karl von Frisch and the White Rose resistance group

Historical background

Whereas the University of Munich was one of the leading German universities in science, particularly physics and chemistry, it was also a Nazi stronghold. As early as in 1925, Richard WillstätterFootnote 10 resigned from his position as Ordinarius at the University as an expression of his protest over the refusal to appoint Victor Moritz Goldschmidt, a geochemist of Jewish heritage, to a professorship. Willstätter viewed this refusal as a sign of increasing anti-Semitism impacting faculty appointments.

While around that time the Nazi party was largely unknown outside of Munich, it was there that Adolf Hitler and the Nazis rose to power. Hitler had moved from Austria to Munich in 1913, and he officially remained a resident until his death. In 1923, at the Bürgerbräukeller, a beer hall in Munich, began what has become known as the Beer Hall Putsch—the (failed) attempt of Hitler and Erich Ludendorff,Footnote 11 supported by several hundred members of the SA,Footnote 12 to overthrow the German government. In recognition of the critical role that Munich had played in the rise of National Socialism, Hitler conferred in 1935, two years after he had become chancellor, on Munich the honorary title Hauptstadt der Bewegung (capital of the movement).

Despite its role during the rise of National Socialism and the time of the Nazi government, Munich was also the site of some powerful anti-Nazi resistance. The best-known is the non-violent activism of the White Rose resistance group that wrote and distributed leaflets in which they called for opposition to the Nazi regime and an end to the war. Its core consisted of five students—Sophie Scholl (1921–1943) (Fig. 2a), Hans Scholl (1918–1943) (Fig. 2b), Christoph Probst (1919–1943) (Fig. 2c), Alexander Schmorell (1917–1943) (Fig. 2d), and Willi Graf (1918–1943) —and one professor—Kurt Huber (1893–1943)—of the University of Munich. Their activities started in the summer of 1942 and ended beginning with their arrests, on February 18, 1943. Ultimately, all of them were executed. These six core members were supported by several dozens of other individuals, both in and outside of Munich.

Fig. 2
figure 2

Members of the White Rose who took courses with Karl von Frisch at the University of Munich. a Sophie Scholl. b Hans Scholl. c Christoph Probst. d Alexander Schmorell. The photographs were taken after their arrests by the Gestapo in Munich. Courtesy: Stadtarchiv München a: reference number DE-1992-FS-PER-S-0008-01; b: reference number DE-1992-FS-PER-S-0007-01; c: reference number DE-1992-FS-PER-P-0003-01; Wikimedia Commons (d). Photographer(s) unknown

Sophie SchollFootnote 13 majored in biology and minored in philosophy. All four male students went to medical school. Their study at the University alternated with periods of compulsory service in military hospitals at the front. Kurt Huber was a professor of philosophy and musicology. Motivated by humanistic ideals and, at least in part, religious beliefs, their writings were strongly influenced by the brutality of the war and the German atrocities (including the mass murder of Jews) that Willi Graf, Christoph Probst, Alexander Schmorell, and Hans Scholl witnessed on the Eastern Front.

The first four leaflets, entitled ‘Leaflets of the White Rose,’ were written by Alexander Schmorell and Hans Scholl in June and July 1942.Footnote 14 The approximately 100 copies of each leaflet were sent primarily to the German intelligentsia, whom they called for resistance: “It is not only your right but also your moral obligation to remove the regime.”Footnote 15

Towards the end of 1942, Sophie Scholl, Willi Graf, Christoph Probst, and Kurt Huber joined the group. Together they wrote the fifth leaflet in January 1943. It is entitled ‘Leaflets of the Resistance Movement in Germany.’ The sixth leaflet, titled ‘Fellow Students’ was mostly written by Kurt Huber and produced in February 1943. In the latter two leaflets, the authors changed the language to appeal to a larger segment of the population. They clearly spelled out their conviction that the war was lost (“Hitler cannot win the war; he can only prolong it”Footnote 16) and urged the reader to “support the resistance movement.”Footnote 17 Using better duplicating technology, they produced several thousand copies of each leaflet, which they distributed in Munich and sent by trusted couriers to other German cities.

On the morning of February 18, 1943, Hans and Sophie Scholl took a suitcase full of copies of the sixth leaflet (and some copies of the fifth leaflet) to the main building of the University, where they left them in front of lecture halls so that students would find them after classes. Sophie Scholl then flung the remaining copies from the gallery of the top floor down into the atrium (Fig. 3). This was watched by a janitor, who took the Scholl siblings to the office of Ernst Haeffner, Syndicus (syndic) of the University, who called the GestapoFootnote 18 (Hockerts 2022).

Fig. 3
figure 3

Lichthof (atrium) of the main building of the University of Munich. On February 18, 1943, after Hans and Sophie Scholl had distributed most of their copies of the sixth leaflet, Sophie flung the remaining copies from the top floor of the gallery down into the atrium. This was observed by a member of the maintenance staff, ultimately leading to the arrest of the Scholl siblings by the Gestapo. Photograph by Günther K.H. Zupanc

Over the next days and months, all the remaining core members of the White Rose and many individuals associated with the group were apprehended. On February 22, 1943, the Scholl siblings and Christoph Probst stood trial before the First Senate of the Volksgerichtshof (‘People’s Court’) headed by Roland FreislerFootnote 19 in Munich and were sentenced to death. They were executed the same day by guillotine in the Stadelheim Prison. In later trials, the other three core members of the group—Alexander Schmorell, Willi Graf, and Kurt Huber—were also sentenced to death and subsequently executed.

In total, 31 persons associated with the White Rose stood trial—the six core members plus 25 supporters.Footnote 20 Many of the latter were given long-prison sentences. One of the supporters, Hans Conrad Leipelt (1921–1945), a ‘half-Jew’Footnote 21 under the Nuremberg Laws on race of 1935 and a chemistry student at the University of Munich,Footnote 22 was sentenced to death and executed. After the execution of the Scholl siblings and Christoph Probst, he had copied the sixth leaflet to which he added the title “… and yet their spirit lives on!” Supported by friends, he distributed this leaflet in Hamburg and Munich. When he collected money for the widow of Professor Kurt Huber, he was denounced, arrested, tried, and executed in 1945.

A report about the White Rose and the text of their sixth leaflet were smuggled out of Germany. This leaflet was retitled ‘The Manifesto of the Students of Munich,’ and millions of copies were dropped by Allied planes over Germany in July 1943.

Enrollment of members of the White Rose in courses taught by Karl von Frisch

Our search in the Archive of the University of Munich revealed that not only Sophie Scholl but also other members of the White Rose group were enrolled in courses of Karl von Frisch.Footnote 23 During the summer semester in 1942—her first semester at the University of Munich—Sophie Scholl took von Frisch’s General Zoology lecture classFootnote 24 (Fig. 4). As a second biology course, she took General Botany, taught by Friedrich Carl von Faber.Footnote 25 Notably, besides two other non-science courses, she was enrolled in two courses (‘Tone and Music Psychology’ and ‘LeibnizFootnote 26 and his Times’) by Kurt Huber, the only professorial member of the White Rose.

Fig. 4
figure 4

Belegblatt (course registration card) of Sophie Scholl for the summer semester 1942. She entered by hand the information on this form, such as the names of the faculty (column 2) of the respective course she took (column 3), the number of course units (Wochenstundenzahl, ‘number of hours per week spent in class;’ column 4), and the tuition fee paid (column 5). The first course listed is von Frisch’s Allgemeine Zoologie (General Zoology), bearing 3 credit hours. She paid a tuition fee of 9 Reichsmark for this course. Courtesy: UAM

In her biography, Barbara Beuys mentions that Sophie Scholl also took at least one course by Karl von Frisch during the winter semester of 1942/1943Footnote 27:

Sophie Scholl was enrolled during the winter semester in lecture courses of the biologist Karl von Frisch, the physicist Walther Gerlach, the mathematician Georg Faber, the philosopher Kurt Huber, and the archeologist Ernst Buschor. (Beuys 2021, p. 391)

Since Hans Scholl, Christoph Probst, Alexander Schmorell, and Willi Graf were medical students, and courses in zoology and anatomy were compulsory for the study of human medicine at the University of Munich (Greilinger 2006), we also searched the Archive of the University of Munich for evidence of their registration in any of von Frisch’s classes. These documentsFootnote 28 indicate that during the summer semester of 1939 Hans Scholl and Christoph Probst took either von Frisch’s Zoology Lecture Course or the Zoological Lab Course for Medical Students, which he taught jointly with Werner Jacobs.Footnote 29 During the third trimesterFootnote 30 of 1939, Hans Scholl, was enrolled in the Comparative Anatomy of Vertebrates Lab Course, which was probably taught by von Frisch,Footnote 31 whereas Christoph Probst and Alexander Schmorell had registered during this term for von Frisch’s Zoology II (Comparative Anatomy of Vertebrates) Lecture Course.Footnote 32 We could not find evidence that Willi Graf read any of von Frisch’s courses. Since he transferred to the University of Munich after he had studied four semesters at the University of Bonn, it is possible that he received transfer credit for equivalent courses taken at the latter institution.

“Zoology is extremely interesting”

Several lines of evidence suggest that at least the Scholl siblings deeply enjoyed Karl von Frisch’s classes. Yet, in the case of Sophie Scholl the evidence is only indirect. This is rather surprising, given that she was the only biology major among the four who took his classes. Several years earlier, when she had just turned 17 and was still a student at the Oberrealschule (high school) in Ulm, she had expressed her enthusiasm for biology in a letter to her sister Inge on July 8, 1938:

The biology class is great. I have already dissected a bovine eye. I also exposed, so neatly, the internal parts, intestines, organs, etc. of a fish. The brain and the head as well. The entire outer wall was folded back, and then everything inside became accessible. It was so orderly and meaningful and tightly packed. And imagine: the heart was still moving regularlyup and down and up and down and up and down. Fish have golden eyes. And a spherical, beautiful lens. Extremely nice animals. I felt so sorry for them. (Jens 2021, pp. 154–155)

Sophie Scholl was a prolific letter writer, as documented by the high volume of her (published) correspondence between 1937 and 1943 (Hartnagel 2008; Jens 2021). Yet, in none of the letters written after her enrollment at the University of Munich does she mention any classes she took. At first, one might suspect that letters in which she perhaps wrote about her courses are missing. Indeed, most of the letters between March 1941 and February 1943 to her fiancée Fritz Hartnagel got lost in Stalingrad, except those that could not be delivered due to the events of the war and were, thus, returned to her (Hartnagel 2008, p. 11).

However, this explanation is rather unlikely. On February 23, 1943,Footnote 33 Fritz Hartnagel wrote from Lemberg,Footnote 34 where he was deployed as an officer of the German army:

By the way, you have never written anything about your lecture courses, although for sure they keep you busy for most of the day. (Hartnagel 2008, p. 457)

Thomas Hartnagel, son of Fritz Hartnagel and editor of the correspondence between Sophie Scholl and Fritz Hartnagel, commented on Sophie Scholl’s priorities by mentioning that Elisabeth Hartnagel,Footnote 35 who had visited Sophie Scholl twice in Munich for several days, was left with the impression that her studies, aside from attending Kurt Huber’s lectures, were of hardly any importance to her. Furthermore, a friend of Sophie Scholl from Ulm, who also visited her in Munich, had to promise in a letter that he would not tell anyone, particularly not her parents, what she really did in Munich (Hartnagel 2008, pp. 458–459).

The only document that indicates how much Sophie Scholl enjoyed Karl von Frisch’s classes is a letter that Inge SchollFootnote 36 wrote to Karl von Frisch on May 13, 1952. In 1946, she had founded the VolkshochschuleFootnote 37 in Ulm, of which she was managing director until 1974. In this capacity, she organized a zoology lecture series of distinguished scholars. In her letter, she invited von Frisch to give a lecture. After two introductory sentences, she wrote:

My two siblings attended your lectures with great pleasure in 1942.Footnote 38 They told me about your experiments.Footnote 39

While this letter of Inge Scholl is the only documented evidence that Sophie Scholl enjoyed Karl von Frisch’s course, there is (besides this letter) some direct evidence that Hans Scholl liked the zoology classes. A few days after he had enrolled at the University of Munich, on April 17, 1939, he wrote in a letter to his parents:

Of all the mandatory lecture courses, the nicest has been botany so far. However, also zoology is extremely interesting. Friday afternoon, I will, most likely, register for the zoology lab (3 units).Footnote 40

Was Karl von Frisch aware of the actions of White Rose and the fate of its members?

Was Karl von Frisch aware of the activities, as well as the arrests, trials, and executions of members of the White Rose, including Hans Scholl, Christoph Probst, Alexander Schmorell, and Sophie Scholl (all of whom had taken classes with him), and his professorial colleague Kurt Huber? And, after World War II, did he ever comment on the anti-Nazi resistance at his own university?

Despite an intensive search in the Archive of the University of Munich and in the collection of documents in von Frisch’s estate at the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, we have not found any evidence indicating that he ever mentioned the activities of the White Rose or any of its members.

One might argue that his presumed abstention from commenting on the White Rose during World War II was due to him being unaware of their actions as well as their arrests, indictments, and executions during World War II; and, after World War II, when members of the White Rose became iconic figures symbolizing anti-Nazi resistance (although they, like other individuals and groups, had failed to mobilize mass political opposition), he did not realize that at least four of them had taken classes with him.

However, besides von Frisch’s correspondence with Inge Scholl, several historical facts strongly argue against such a notion. During the war, it is extremely unlikely that any student or faculty member of the University of Munich did not become aware of at least some of the actions of the White Rose and the events that followed the arrest of Hans and Sophie Scholl on February 18, 1943.

First, between June 1942 and February 1943, members of the White Rose scattered by hand thousands of copies of the six leaflets on campus and at public places in Munich. Leaflets were also mailed to select individuals, including professors and academic staff of the University, whom they hoped to win over to their cause. Most significantly, documented evidence proves that at least two zoologists—Werner Jacobs and Hans KriegFootnote 41—received leaflets mailed to their residential addresses by the White Rose. Jacobs, von Frisch’s right hand, got the second and third leaflet, postmarked July 1, 1942 and July 6, 1942, respectively. Hans Krieg was recipient of only the second leaflet, postmarked July 21,1942. Each of them handed over their copies to the Gestapo.Footnote 42 It is unknown whether Jacobs and Krieg discussed the leaflets with other members of the Zoological Institute, including von Frisch. It remains also elusive whether other zoologists, including von Frisch, received leaflets from the White Rose but did not report them to the Gestapo.

Second, in early 1943, Alexander Schmorell, Hans Scholl, and Willi Graft began a graffiti campaign, painting slogans like Freiheit (Freedom) and Nieder mit Hitler (Down with Hitler) on buildings throughout Munich, including the University.

Third, when Hans Scholl, Sophie Scholl, and Christoph Probst were found guilty of treason, condemned to death, and executed on February 22, 1943, a press release by the Bavarian State Government announced the news the same evening, which were published on the next day in several newspapers, including the local edition of the Völkischer Beobachter as well as the Münchner Neueste Nachrichten and the Münchener Zeitung.

Fourth, on the evening of the execution, following an invitation from the University’s leadership, 3000–4000 students rallied to express their support for the Führer and the Nazi movement, and to condemn the actions of the convicted members of the White Rose.

After the war, the first public commemorative event honoring the members of the White Rose took place as early as on November 4, 1945,Footnote 43 just six months after the unconditional surrender of the German Third Reich. The next year, on September 9, 1946, the forecourt of the University’s main building and the court opposite were named Geschwister-Scholl-Platz (Scholl Sibling Square) (Fig. 5) and Prof.-Huber-Platz (Professor Huber Square), respectively. On November 2, 1946, a plaque made of Jura marbleFootnote 44 was unveiled. Its Latin inscription commemorates the seven members of the White Rose, “who had to die an inhumane death for upholding the values of humanity.” A bronze relief commemorating the seven members of the White Rose, mounted on the western side in the atrium of the main building, was unveiled in 1958 (Fig. 6).Footnote 45 Over these years, the White Rose has become the symbol of non-violent resistance during the Nazi era, and several members of the group, in particular the Scholl siblings,Footnote 46 evolved as national heroes in both East and West Germany.

Fig. 5
figure 5

Geschwister-Scholl-Platz (Scholl Sibling Square), named after Hans and Sophie Scholl and located in front of the main building of the University of Munich. Photograph by Günther K.H. Zupanc

Fig. 6
figure 6

Bronze relief commemorating the seven executed members of the White Rose—Hans Scholl, Sophie Scholl, Willi Graf, Hans Leipelt, Christoph Probst, Alexander Schmorell, and Kurt Huber. It is mounted on the western side in the atrium of the main building in which Hans and Sophie Scholl were arrested. Created by the German sculptor Lothar Dietz, this piece of artwork was unveiled in 1958. Photograph by Günther K.H. Zupanc

Fig. 7
figure 7

Pavement memorial to the White Rose. Embedded in the cobblestone pavement in front of the main entrance of the university building, the ceramic tablets by artist Robert Schmidt-Matt depict photographs and biosketches of Hans Scholl, Sophie Scholl, and Christoph Probst, as well as leaflets of the White Rose. Photograph by Günther K.H. Zupanc

Thus, we consider it to be virtually impossible that, both during and after the war, Karl von Frisch had not learned about the actions of the White Rose group and the events that followed the arrest of Hans and Sophie Scholl. However, did he know that four of its members, including Hans and Sophie, were students in his classes?

To weigh in on this question, it is helpful to look at the number of students at that time, both in the biological-discipline programs (botany and zoology) and in the courses taught by Karl von Frisch. During the summer semester of 1942—Sophie Scholl’s first semester—a total of 3788 students were enrolled at the University of Munich.Footnote 47 Out of them, 1877 were medical students and 389 were students in the College of Science. Of the latter, 115 students were in their first semester. Based on the fact that botany and zoology students comprised 15–30% of the science students at the time of graduation,Footnote 48 we estimate that Sophie Scholl was one of 17–35 students who commenced their studies in these two disciplines in the summer semester of 1942. This number is notably low, making it likely that professors, including von Frisch, knew these students in person.

Our analysis of students who were enrolled in Karl von Frisch’s lecture courses indicated large numbers. For example, the General Zoology course in the summer semester of 1942 was taken by 451 students, including Sophie Scholl. However, this situation was different for lab courses. For example, analysis of the course registration cards for the 3rd trimester of 1939 revealed a total of 69 students in the Comparative Anatomy of Vertebrates lab class, including Hans Scholl. Considering the reputation of von Frisch and Jacobs as highly engaged instructors, we consider it to be likely that some personal interaction took place between Scholl on the one side and von Frisch on the other.

Whereas the student numbers make it likely that Karl von Frisch knew members of the White Rose personally, there is documented evidence that he was reminded of them after the war. Inge Scholl, in a letter dated May 13, 1952, to Karl von Frisch mentioned that Hans and Sophie Scholl had attended his lectures “with great pleasure” (see section ‘“Zoology is extremely interesting”,’ above). In a reply dated May 15, 1952, von Fisch declined the invitation to give a presentation at the Ulmer Volkshochschule, while he did not address Scholl’s remarks on her siblings. Over the following five years, Inge Scholl sent another eight letters to von Frisch in which she repeated her invitation. His replies are documented in three letters preserved in the BSB archives. According to the correspondence, he finally gave a lecture at the Ulmer Volkshochschule on December 5, 1957.

Notably, however, in a letter of July 19, 1956, Inge Scholl wrote that she would be in Munich between July 23rd and July 27th, and that then she would call him to arrange, if possible, an in-person meeting. In what probably was her next letter, dated October 10, 1956, she referred to a persönliche Unterredung (conversation) that took place in July of that year. However, it remains unclear whether they had talked over the phone or during an in-person meeting in Munich. Thus, based on the documented exchange of 13 letters between 1952 and 1957, we assume that they met at least once (when Karl von Frisch gave his lecture in Ulm in 1957). We also have evidence that they talked to each other on at least one other occasion, in 1956. It is unknown whether, during the two conversations that presumably took place, the White Rose was mentioned. Nevertheless, this was likely the case, given that Inge Scholl published her book Die Weiße Rose around the same time, in 1955 (Scholl 2021), and that, since the execution of her siblings until her death in 1998, she devoted her life to telling the story of her siblings.

The (a)political nature of Karl von Frisch during the Nazi era

“I kept up the spirit of doing research … by ignoring what happened around me”

At about the same time when Inge Scholl published the book that established members of the White Rose as iconic figures of the anti-Nazi resistance, Karl von Frisch wrote his memoirs (von Frisch 1957). In the entire book, he comments on political resistance only once, when he briefly mentions the role that universities and professors played during early years of the Nazi era:

If there had been consensus among universities, they may perhaps have succeeded in fighting back. However, many professors applauded the new movement, some because they wanted to avoid confrontation, others because they were ardent Nazis. Nonetheless, soon it had become clear that any significant resistance would result in self-destruction. (von Frisch 1957, p. 113)

This quote provides some important insight into von Frisch’s political views—not only did he regard political resistance during the Nazi era as an act of self-destruction, but he also made any attempt to stay out of politics. The latter point is articulated even clearer in the following text in his memoirs, in which he outlines his strategy to maintain a high level of scholarly productivity during times of political oppression:

I kept up the spirit of doing research by immersing myself into work and, as much as possible, by ignoring what happened around me, which was beyond our control. (von Frisch 1957, p. 120)

When major parts of Munich, including the house of his family in the Harlaching municipality of Munich and the Zoological Institute of the University of Munich, were completely destroyed or severely damaged by allied bombs, a highly effective way for Karl von Frisch to “ignore what happened around him” was to relocate his residency and a significant amount of his research operation to his country estate in Brunnwinkl at Lake Wolfgang, Austria (for a historical account of Karl von Frisch’s family estate and for its importance for his research see von Frisch 1980). Shortly after the war, in 1946, he even retired from his Ordinarius position in Munich and accepted an offer to join the faculty of the University of Graz in the Southern Austrian province of Styria. In contrast to Munich, there had been relatively little destruction during the war in Graz, so that Karl von Frisch could invest his efforts into continued research, instead of rebuilding the Munich Zoological Institute (a task that was left largely to his assistant Ruth Beutler; see Zupanc 2024 in this issue). Perhaps equally important, von Frisch perceived this move as a strategic decision to avoid being disrupted by memories of the past:

Even just the thought of Munich evoked painful memories and feelings associated with what we had witnessed over the last decade. I was hopeful that a change of location would provide me with freedom from worry and anxietythe kind of mental state that science needs to flourish. (von Frisch 1957, p. 131)

The apolitical nature of Karl von Frisch that transpires from the above statements aligns with the recollection of one of his grandchildren, Julian von Frisch.Footnote 49 During an interview,Footnote 50 he told us that he does not remember his grandfather ever talking about politics in general or mentioning the White Rose in particular, and that he used to ignore whatever might have negatively interfered with his work.Footnote 51

The political strategy of Karl von Frisch during the Nazi era

Karl von Frisch’s declared efforts to stay out of politics did not prevent him from utilizing politically charged topics when it benefitted his own interests.Footnote 52 This is particularly true for ‘race,’ the issue that defined the political agenda, and ultimately the atrocities, of the Nazis more than any other. In 1936, he published Du und das Leben: Eine moderne Biologie für Jedermann (Title of the English editions: Man and the Living World) (von Frisch 1936). In this highly successful introductory biology textbook, he covered not only plant and animal breeding but also Rassenhygiene (racial hygiene, eugenicsFootnote 53) in humans as one of its chief applications. Notably, the extent to which this topic was covered, and its content, differ between the two editions of the book. The original edition was published by Ullstein Verlag, whereas other editions (e.g., von Frisch 1940) appeared in the Deutscher Verlag during the Third Reich. The latter was the successor of the Jewish Ullstein Verlag, which was aryanizedFootnote 54 in 1934 and renamed Deutscher Verlag in 1937. It was affiliated with the Franz Eher Nachfolger publishing house of the Nazi Party. At least one of the Deutscher Verlag editions received financial support through the Dr.-Goebbels-Spende für die Deutsche Wehrmacht,Footnote 55 a fund named after Josef GoebbelsFootnote 56 and intended to provide the Deutsche Wehrmacht (German armed forces) with books for entertainment and education. The Ullstein and Deutscher Verlag editions differ at the end of the book. Whereas the Ullstein edition contains, as its final part, a one-page section on eugenics, the coverage of this topic is expanded to eight pages in the Deutscher Verlag edition.

A section immediately preceding the coverage of eugenics is titled Zukunftssorgen (Worries about the Future). In this text part, Karl von Frisch laments that unhealthy phenotypic deviations, which are weeded out “mercilessly” in indigenous people and wild animals but persist in highly developed cultures, due to humanitarian sentiment and medical support. According to his diagnosis, the abolishment of benevolent selection by giving preference to inferior people in modern societies, and the unrestricted reproduction of these individuals, result in a relative increase of people with heritable mental illnesses or physical malformations, “who, by receiving support from society, live at the expense of hardworking people” (von Frisch 1940, p. 350).

In the two sections of the Deutscher Verlag edition that follow the Worries-about-the-Future section, Karl von Frisch discusses how this decline of human races, as he sees it, can be prevented. The proposed solution is based on his assumption that races differ not only in morphological traits but also in their mental potential. ‘Crossbreeding’ of these races, as he argues, produces numerous phenotypes, among which many are unerwünscht (undesirable) and should, therefore, be prohibited. “Keeping races pure is the basic idea of eugenics, which has been implemented in a powerful way through the legislationFootnote 57 of the German Reich … in our society, the Rassenpolitische AmtFootnote 58 serves as a consultant to the government concerning this and other issues” (von Frisch 1940, pp. 352/353).

To counter social degeneration and decline of human civilization, allegedly caused by the lack of natural selection, von Frisch advocates for forcible sterilization. Given his sympathetic view of such measures as a legitimate and necessary approach to enforce racial hygiene, it is not surprising that in an article that Karl von Frisch published in the high-profile weekly Nazi newspaper Das ReichFootnote 59 in February 1941 (von Frisch 1941), he praises the German Reich in its effort to utilize the work of contemporary genetics, “in the broadest form”, for the benefit of the Volk (nation, race).

The political naivety of Karl von Frisch

Whereas Karl von Frisch’s writings during the Third Reich document how he used his demonstration of support of some of the political agendas of the Nazis as a strategy to achieve his research goals, it appears that at least some of his actions were guided by political naivety. This feature, which emerges as a characteristic trait of him, is illustrated by four examples detailed below.

In defense of Franz Wirz, the “right-minded man”

The first example relates to the threat of his forced retirement during the Third Reich. After the Gesetz zur Wiederherstellung des Berufsbeamtentums (Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service) had been signed into law on April 7, 1933, civil servants, including university professors, had to provide proof of their Aryan descent and give assurance that they would support the national state at any time. In the corresponding questionnaire, von Frisch had indicated catholic faith of his parents and grandparents. The university acknowledged Aryan descent in an official list issued July 18, 1933.Footnote 60

However, in 1936, a re-review of von Frisch’s claim of Aryan descent was initiated after two assistants of the Zoological Institute had testified that at least one of his grandparents was a Jew (for a detailed account see Zupanc 2024 in this issue). This triggered inquiries by several authorities of the Bavarian state government in Munich and the Reich government in Berlin, which, in 1941, led to the notification by the Reich Minister of Science, Education and National Culture of their intention to retire him early. Karl von Frisch fought this decision by petitioning to reverse the intended forced retirement and by demonstrating his loyalty to the Reich, for example by publishing an article in the high-profile Nazi newspaper Das Reich (von Frisch 1941), as mentioned above.

At the same time, he rallied support by several colleagues. Although some details remain elusive, the decisive help came from a Nazi official, Franz Wirz (1889–1969), who served in various leadership positions, including head of the Hauptamt für Volksgesundheit der NSDAP-Reichsleitung (Head Office for People’s Health at the Headquarter of the Nazi Party). In this function, he had, among other assignments, the task of combatting nosemosis, an infection of adult honeybees (Apis mellifera) with the microsporidium Nosema apis. Addressing this issue had become a topic of national interest when, at the beginning of the 1940s, beekeepers in Germany and other countries suffered heavy losses totaling hundreds of thousands of bee colonies due to nosemosis. This resulted in a severe reduction in the production not only of honey but also of food crops dependent on insect pollination. After Wirz’s intervention, von Frisch was commissioned by the Reich Ministry of Food and Agriculture to coordinate the scientific efforts for combatting nosemosis. To enable von Frisch to carry out this project, the Reich Ministry of Science, Education, and National Culture agreed to delay his retirement until the time after the war.

Like many other Nazi officials after the war, Franz Wirz was dismissed from his position by the Allied Military Government and held at a detention facility from December 1945 to November 1947. On January 10, 1946, Karl von Frisch wrote a letter to the commanding officer of the Counterintelligence Corps (a World War II and early Cold War intelligence agency within the United States Army) Detachment in Munich.Footnote 61

I have learned that Professor F. Wirz was arrested end of December. I do not know what charges have been brought against him. However, I would like to share some information with you in his defense.

Then, von Frisch states how Wirz’s intervention on his behalf was critical in delaying his forced retirement until the end of the war. He finished the letter by commenting on Wirz’s character:

… he deeply cares about supporting research. I had the impression that not only in regard of the latter and the Jewish problem, but also otherwise Professor Wirz was a right-minded man who used his power to vehemently counter the madness of the Nazi party in quite a few instances.

Whereas von Frisch’s testimony of the support he received from Franz Wirz appears to be correct, his portrait of Wirz as a “right-minded man who used his power to vehemently counter the madness of the Nazi party” is, at the very least, incomplete. Wirz had studied medicine at the University of Munich and received his M.D. degree in 1916 (for biographical details see Grüttner 2004). After World War I, he worked as a dermatologist at the university hospital in Munich. In 1927, he was appointed to a non-tenure-track professorship at the University of Munich.

Immediately after Hitler seized power in 1933, Wirz became a member of the Nazi party. He was one of the masterminds of a massive denunciation campaign against Leo von Zumbusch (Böhm 1995). Von Zumbusch (1874–1940) was not only Wirz’s line manager at the university hospital but also rector of the University of Munich from 1933 to 1934.Footnote 62 (Although von Zumbusch was the first rector after the Nazis had seized power, he had still been elected, in 1932, during the Weimar Republic.) As a result of Wirz’s denunciation campaign, von Zumbusch was forced to retire early in 1935 under the Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service because of political reasons. The accusations included, among others, his refusal to give the Nazi salute and derogatory comments that he had made about Hitler.

Since von Zumbusch was a prominent professor at the University of Munich, it is likely that Karl von Frisch, like other faculty colleagues, was aware of the circumstances of his dismissal. This is particularly the case because von Frisch and von Zumbusch must have known each other well. In 1906, von Zumbusch had married his first wife, the Viennese artist Nora Exner (1879–1915), the daughter of Adolf Exner (1841–1894).Footnote 63 The latter was the brother of Karl von Frisch’s mother, Marie von Frisch (née Exner) (1844–1925).Footnote 64 In other words, Nora von Zumbusch (née Exner) was Karl von Frisch’s cousin.

Konrad Lorenz, the army psychologist and advocate of racial hygiene: “It would be a pity if his research were hampered by untrue rumors”

The second example illustrating Karl von Frisch’s political naivety relates to a letter that he wrote in Minneapolis (Minnesota) on May 14, 1949, while he was on a three-month lecture tour through the United States. This letter was addressed to Niko Tinbergen. In its introductory notes, von Frisch expressed his hope to receive from him some information about one of Tinbergen’s friends, Konrad Lorenz.

Lorenz would like to acquire funding from the Rockefeller Foundation for his research. However, there is wide-held suspicion here [in the United States] that he was an active Nazi. I am not aware of that, and I have a hard time believing it. Probably, it is true that he was a member of the [Nazi] party.Footnote 65 Rumors are that he was a Heerespsychologe (army psychologist), which people here interpret as involvement in Nazi activities. I don’t know whether there is any particular meaning to these activities … I would appreciate … if you could provide me with more information. It would, for sure, be a pity if Lorenz’s research were hampered by untrue rumors.Footnote 66

In his reply, Niko Tinbergen confirmed that they were friends and that he knew Lorenz very well.

After his release as a prisoner of war from a Russian internment camp, we resumed our correspondence. Of course, I asked him about the rumors regarding his sympathies for the Nazi ideology.Footnote 67 I think, he told the truth when he responded that initially he felt positive about the Nazis, but soon he realized his mistake. I do not know anything about his activities as a Heerespsychologe. As far as I know, he served as a medical doctor … I cannot tell much more because, after we were in contact again, we agreed not to write about politics.Footnote 68

Lorenz himself never mentioned anything about such a role in public. In autobiographical pieces, he described two functions in which he served in the Wehrmacht—as a Kradschütze (a member of a motorized, lightly armed, and highly mobile infantry unit) and a medical doctor. Only three years after his death in 1989, first indications surfaced about Lorenz’s involvement as an army psychologist in a comparative ‘race psychology’ study on people of mixed German-Polish background, which was conducted in Posen (Polish Poznań) in occupied Poland under the leadership of Rudolf HippiusFootnote 69 in 1942. This research, best known as the ‘Posen study,’ was based on psychological tests and observations of 877 subjects carried out by a group of interviewers. This team included Konrad Lorenz, who is listed as a ‘volunteer’ and probably spent several hours every week interviewing subjects, on top of his main duties as a military psychiatrist and neurologist.

Although Lorenz did not co-author the 416-pages long monograph of the Posen Study (Hippius et al. 1943), its main conclusions aligned well with the core message that he conveyed widely in publications and lectures during the Third Reich, including a comprehensive, 80-pages long paper entitled Durch Domestikation verursachte Störungen arteigenen Verhaltens (Defects of Species-Specific Behavior Caused by Domestication), which had appeared three years earlier (Lorenz 1940). In this highly speculative article, Lorenz first describes how domestication of animals, through selection by the breeder of mutants whose fitness is reduced under natural conditions, results in abnormal changes in instinctive behaviors and defects in the selectivity of an animal’s response to releasers, particularly in the context of reproductive behavior, pair bonding, and brood care. Lorenz postulates that these defects are primarily caused by “complete absence” of what leads under natural conditions, through selection, to the eradication of such behavioral mutants. Additionally, as he speculates, an increase in the frequency at which the underlying mutations occur may also contribute to the observed behavioral defects.

In the second major part of his treatise, Lorenz postulates that behavioral defects that are homologous to those in domesticated animals occur in humans living in big cities.

From a racial hygiene point of view, such defects in the social behavior of civilized humans are the most dangerous and malicious ones … and, in all likelihood, are caused by the same factors.Footnote 70

He, then proposes two remedial strategies.

If there are factors that increase the likelihood of mutations resulting in such defects, then their identification and elimination would be the prime duty of the racial hygienist (‘Rassenpfleger’) because the occurrence of humans with such defects in species-specific social behaviors is most detrimental to nation and race (‘Volk und Rasse’) … On the other hand, if it will be shown that the increase of mutants [with behavioral defects] is not caused by an increase in the frequency of mutations but by the absence of natural selection, and an imbalance of the races, then the racial hygienist must ensure an even more stringent eradication (‘Ausmerzung’) of ethically inferior people than done today. Racial hygiene would, thus, have to replace all the selection factors that are at work under natural conditions … even a small defect in social inhibition exhibited by a group makes their carriers, under the condition of life in the city, capable of outsmarting their fully-fit conspecifics (‘vollwertige Artgenossen’) and developing into a parasite for the nation as a whole (‘das Volksganze’) … this phenomenon results … in a situation in which inferior human material (‘minderwertiges Menschenmaterial’) become, due to exactly these inferior properties, able of invading the healthy body of the Volk (‘gesunder Volkskörper’) and ultimately to destroy it.Footnote 71

Lorenz concludes his wild speculations by praising the achievements of national socialism:

The notion of race as the foundation of our nation has done an infinite amount of good. The Nordic movement has always been directed against the domestication of humans. Its ideals are those that would be destroyed by the biological consequences of civilization and domestication. It, therefore, fights for a development antagonistic to the direction in which today’s humans of the cities move. To people who think biologically, there is no doubt which of the two ways is the way of evolution, the way ‘up’!Footnote 72

Although Konrad Lorenz never spells out what he envisages when he demands “eradication of ethically inferior people” as a substitute of natural selection, it is clear that his (largely pseudoscientific) analysis could not only be used as retroactive legitimation of the Nuremberg LawsFootnote 73 and the enforced sterilization of “inferior human material” under the Law for the Prevention of Hereditary Diseased Offspring but also lend ‘scientific’ support for further escalation that started with World War II and culminated in the mass murder of persons with disabilities, as done in the T4 Aktion, and people viewed as racially inferior by the Nazis, such a Jews, Roma, and Sinti.

As with the case of Lorenz’s role as an army psychologist during World War II, one would like to know whether Karl von Frisch was aware of Lorenz’s 1940 paper. Unlike Lorenz’s participation as an army psychologist in the Posen Study in 1942, which he managed to keep as a secret throughout his lifetime, the situation is less obvious in the case of his 1940 article. Not only was this article publicly available, but Lorenz was also very active around that time in promoting his paper and its content through lectures and coverage in other journals and newspapers, such as Der Biologe, Neues Wiener Tagblatt, Das Reich, and Völkischer Beobachter (Föger and Taschwer 2001). Since the community of the just-emerging discipline of animal psychology (later to become known as ethology) was then very small, and the number of papers published by its representatives was miniscule (compared to today’s measures), it is likely that von Frisch was at least aware of the core thesis of Lorenz’s 1940 paper.

Karl von Frisch and the Simon Wiesenthal petition letter

The third example that is presented here as illustration of Karl von Frisch’s political naivety is based on a letterFootnote 74 (dated November 2, 1964) he had received from Simon WiesenthalFootnote 75 of the Dokumentationszentrum des Bundes jüdischer Verfolgter des Naziregimes (Documentation Center of the Association of Jewish Victims of the Nazi Regime) in Vienna. In the letter, which in identical form was sent to several hundred members of the intellectual elite in Germany and Austria, Wiesenthal asked the recipient to submit an expression of opinion on the extension of the statute of limitations on Nazi crimes involving murder. At that time, the limitation on prosecuting crimes punishable by life imprisonment was twenty years in Germany and Austria. Due to the juridical deficiencies of the Third Reich, the date of the beginning of the limitation period was set for May 8, 1945 (the day when World War II ended in Europe). As a result, crimes of murder committed during the Nazi era were still punishable only until May 8, 1965 (for a political, legal, and historical review see Monson 1982).

Approximately 90% of the respondents to Wiesenthal’s letter—360 in total—had supported an extension of the statute of limitation. These responses were presented to the German Government on January 28, 1965, and to the Austrian Government on February 3, 1965. After a prolonged debate by the members of the German Bundestag (Parliament), a (temporary) solution was adopted by the House on March 25, 1965, by moving the beginning of the twenty-year tolling period for murder to December 31, 1949,Footnote 76 thereby giving the authorities more time to prosecute crimes committed by Nazi Germany.

Compared to many of the other respondents, and to the letters that Karl von Frisch usually wrote to colleagues in important matters, his response to Wiesenthal’s request was very short (seven typewritten lines) and somewhat superficial. He expressed his objection of any statute of limitations of crimes committed during the Nazi era, and he also suggested that changes in the existing law be applicable only to wirkliche Verbrecher (true criminals) but not to kleine Mitläufer (followers or accomplices). These comments indicate von Frisch’s limited familiarity with the issue, although the statute of limitations of murder crimes during the Third Reich was perhaps the most contentious issue debated by politicians and the public in 1964. First, in contrast to von Frisch’s proposal, complete abolishment of the statute of limitations was not considered at that time. Second, it is unclear what crimes he associated with followers or accomplices. For both non-homicidal crimes and for manslaughter, the deadlines had already passed (May 8, 1955, and May 8, 1960, respectively). Moreover, by 1964 it had become increasingly clear that the ‘follower’ argument was used by many Nazi criminals to escape adequate punishment—they claimed they had acted ‘only’ as followers or accomplices, even though they had been involved in murder (as defined by the penal code) of numerous people.

Karl von Frisch’s endorsement of Werner Jacobs, member of the Nazi party and the SA

The fourth and final example used here to illustrate the political naivety of Karl von Frisch concerns Werner Jacobs. As mentioned above (see footnote 29), he was an active Nazi during the Third Reich, which is underscored by his membership in eight Nazi organizations, including the SA, in which he served during the entire Nazi era. On January 6, 1946, Jacobs was suspended from his tenured Konservator position, but reinstated on August 8, 1948.

Karl von Frisch had retired from his Ordinarius position at the University of Munich in 1946 and accepted the offer to join as Ordinarius the University of Graz in Austria. However, despite his official absence from Munich over the following few years, he continued to pull the strings in the search for his successor. He was regularly informed about any significant development in the search process through correspondence with his close confident, the interim Ordinarius Ruth Beutler (for further details see Zupanc 2024 in this issue). After the first search had ended unsuccessfully, a new list of three candidates was established. On top of this list was Erich von Holst, followed by Werner Jacobs and Anton Koch. In a letter to the Bavarian State Ministry for Education and Culture, von Frisch endorsed both von Holst and Jacobs. (After von Holst declined the offer, in a surprising move of the University of Munich von Frisch was offered the vacant position; he accepted this offer and returned to Munich in 1950.)

While it seems highly unlikely that Karl von Frisch did not know about Jacobs’ active support of the Nazi movement during the Third Reich, it is virtually impossible that he was not aware of the reason for Jacobs’s two-and-a-half-year suspension from his university position. Details of his suspension, including his membership in eight Nazi organizations, are clearly noted in his employment file of the university. Thus, von Frisch’s endorsement of Jacobs as his successor is perplexing. It seems that either the ‘brown’ past of Jacobs was not an issue at all for von Frisch, or Jacobs scientific merits took precedence over any concerns about his support of the Nazi regime.

Epilogue

At first sight, it is puzzling that Karl von Frisch seemed to have completely ignored the events that unfolded following the actions taken by the White Rose resistance group in front of his eyes in 1942 and 1943; and, after World War II, when key actors of these events emerged as national heroes and important figures in Germany’s history. Did he not remember that four of them were students in his classes, even when he was reminded of this fact by their main biographer?

Moreover, as a quarter-Jew, he himself was a victim of the totalitarian Nazi regime, and he knew from his own experience that without the help of others it was virtually impossible to counter the oppressive measures of the Reich government. However, we have not found any indication that he supported opposition to the Nazi regime, or that he even just expressed his sympathy for such activity.

Only a few years earlier, it was exactly this kind of support that von Frisch had provided to help victims of political persecution. Some indication of his help is even documented in an official letter dated May 15, 1936, that was written to the Reich Ministry of Science, Education and National Culture in BerlinFootnote 77 by the leaders of the Dozentenbund and Dozentenschaft of the University of Munich, Wilhelm Führer und Ernst Bergdolt, respectively.Footnote 78 In this eight-pages-long letter, they denounced him as a Judenstämmling (a person with Jewish ancestry) and for his favoritism toward Jewish scientists. Among the latter, they listed Otto Egon Löwenstein,Footnote 79 who was employed at the Zoological Institute at the time when the Nazis seized power; Curt Stern,Footnote 80 whom von Frisch had considered for a tenured Konservator position at his institute shortly before Hitler was appointed chancellor of Germany; and Dora Ilse,Footnote 81 who had worked for several years as a private wissenschaftliche Hilfskraft under von Frisch. Four years later, in 1940, Karl von Frisch went even as far as initiating the release of a Polish colleague, Roman J. Wojtusiak, from the Dachau concentration camp.Footnote 82

Why, then, did Karl von Frisch never express any sympathy for the White Rose? Did he have in mind the fate of its members when he wrote in his autobiography that “resistance leads to self-destruction”?

While it may be true that he ignored what happened around him to keep up the spirit of doing research (as he phrased it), it also appears that, in the early 1940s, he changed his strategy of how to cope with the Nazi regime. This change may have been triggered by the dramatic worsening of the political situation around 1942/1943, which was catalyzed in large by Germany’s defeat in the Battle of Stalingrad. The worsening of the political situation is reflected, among many other measures, by an enormous surge in the number of executions, most of which were related to alleged political crimes. Out of the estimated 16,000 civilians that were executed during the twelve-and-a-half years of the Third Reich, 5,336 were executed in 1943 alone.Footnote 83 The latter number includes the six core members of the White Rose. Considering this worsening of the political reality, Karl von Frisch might have felt it to be necessary not only to abandon his help for victims of the Nazi regime but also to publicly praise some of the ‘achievements’ of the Reich government, particularly in the context of eugenics.

Had he shown any sympathy or even support for opponents of the Nazi regime (including members of the White Rose) during the later years of the war, it is almost certain that, at the bare minimum, he would have lost his position at the University of Munch. On the other hand, had some of the Munich students not shown the world that among all the perpetrators and followers under Hitler there were also different Germans, Germany’s path to becoming a member of the new Europe after World War II might have been far longer and more arduous. The difference in the consequences for the main actors of this historic drama was that Karl von Frisch’s silence, and his arrangements with the Nazi regime, enabled him to keep his position and to carry out some critical pieces of his research. For these achievements, he received numerous accolades, including honorary doctorates from six universities (Fig. 8) and a Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine in 1973. Seven members of the White Rose had to pay for their bravery with their lives.

Fig. 8
figure 8

Karl von Frisch receiving an honorary doctorate from J. Hampden Robb, University Marshal, during the 312th commencement of Harvard University in 1963. The honoree applauding in front of von Frisch is Willy Brandt, then Mayor of West Berlin. Brand served as the chancellor of West Germany from 1969 to 1974. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1971, two years before von Frisch received a Nobel Prize for Physiology or Medicine. Courtesy: BSB Ana-540, E.I.14

Crossing paths beyond death

As an irony of history, the crossing of the paths of Karl von Frisch and members of the White Rose did not stop with their deaths. Several members of the White Rose were laid to rest in the cemetery at Perlacher Forst in Munich, after they had been executed in the directly adjacent Stadelheim Prison: Hans Scholl, Sophie Scholl, and Christoph Probst in a joint grave (Fig. 9a), and Alexander Schmorell in a separate graveFootnote 84 (Fig. 9b). Karl von Frisch died on June 12, 1982. He was buried in the same cemetery (Fig. 9c). Remarkably, although the Perlacher Forst cemetery extends about 800 m from both north to south and east to west, the graves of von Frisch and Schmorell each are less than 50 m from the Scholl grave.

Fig. 9
figure 9

Grave sites of a Hans Scholl, Sophie Scholl, and Christoph Probst; b Alexander Schmorell; and c Karl von Frisch in the Perlacher Forst Cemetery. Photographs by Günther K.H. Zupanc