We Refugees Archive

In den meisten Fällen bestand die einzige offizielle Berührung mit dem Generalkonsulat während der ersten fünf, sechs Jahre darin, daß man sich dort seinen Paß erneuern ließ. Das brachte längere Zeit keinerlei Schwierigkeiten mit sich. Dann aber wurde die Lage für viele von uns immer prekärer. Das zeigte sich unter anderem darin, daß wir mit Schreiben vom 30. Mai 1938 vom deutschen Generalkonsulat in Istanbul auf Veranlassung des Auswärtigen Amts einen Fragebogen erhielten, in dem Auskunft nicht nur über den Beginn unseres Vertrags mit der türkischen Regierung, sondern auch darüber verlangt wurde, ob man selbst und/oder seine Ehefrau „Arier“ sei oder aber Jude bzw. „nichtarisch versippt“.

Damals begann jener Druck, der sich bis zu dem Zeitpunkt verstärkte, wo auf Anraten des Chefs der eidgenössischen Fremdenpolizei, Dr. Heinrich Rothmund, die deutschen Pässe, deren Inhaber nach nationalsozialistischen Standards Juden waren, mit einem großen roten „J“ gestempelt wurden. Das war jedoch nur die Einleitung zu weiteren schärferen Maßnahmen, und so erfuhr ich eines Tages – nicht offiziell, sondern auf dem Wege über einen deutschen, in der Schweiz lebenden Bekannten, der die betreffende Nachricht zufällig im „Reichsanzeiger“ Nr. 161 vom 12. Juli 1940 gelesen hatte –, daß ich samt Frau und Kindern ohne irgendeine Begründung ausgebürgert worden war: durch eine Bekanntmachung des Reichsinnenministers „unter Beschlagnahme meines Vermögens“ (in Wirklichkeit des kleinen in Deutschland blockierten Guthabens meiner Frau, da ich selbst keinerlei Vermögenswerte besaß).  Die globale Ausbürgerung aller „nichtarischen“ deutschen Staatsbürger erfolgte erst einige Zeit später; warum ich noch individuell dieser Ehre teilhaftig wurde, ist mir nicht bekannt geworden. Wie dem auch sei, wir und viele andere waren nunmehr paßlos, und das war nicht zuletzt im Hinblick auf den Krieg, der bereits begonnen hatte, eine alles andere denn angenehme Situation, ganz abgesehen von dem tiefen Schmerz, den meine Frau und ich angesichts der Tatsache empfanden, von dem trotz allem als Heimat angesehenen Land formell ausgestoßen worden zu sein. Daß uns die türkische Regierung auch in der paßlosen Zeit keinerlei Schwierigkeiten bereitete, vielmehr uns in großzügiger Weise half, jene Frist zu überstehen, sei hier mit besonderer Dankbarkeit hervorgehoben.

In most cases, the only official contact with the Consulate General during the first five or six years was to have one’s passport renewed there. This did not cause any difficulties for a long time. But then the situation became more and more precarious for many of us. This became apparent, among other things, when we received a questionnaire from the German Consulate General in Istanbul in a letter dated May 30, 1938, at the instigation of the Foreign Office, in which information was requested not only about the beginning of our contract with the Turkish government, but also about whether we ourselves and/or our wives were “Aryans” or Jews or “of non-Aryan descent”.

At that time began that pressure, which intensified until the time when, on the advice of the head of the Federal Aliens Police, Dr. Heinrich Rothmund, German passports whose holders were Jews according to National Socialist standards were stamped with a large red “J”. This, however, was only the prelude to further harsher measures, and so one day I learned – not officially, but by way of a German acquaintance living in Switzerland, who had happened to read the news in question in the “Reichsanzeiger” No. 161 of July 12, 1940 – that I, together with my wife and children, had been expatriated without any justification: by a notice of the Reich Minister of the Interior “confiscating my assets” (in reality, my wife’s small credit balance blocked in Germany, since I myself had no assets whatsoever).

The global denaturalization of all “non-Aryan” German citizens did not take place until some time later; why I was still individually granted this honor has not become known to me. Be that as it may, we and many others were now without passports, and this was anything but a pleasant situation, not least in view of the war that had already begun, not to mention the deep pain that my wife and I felt in view of the fact that we had been formally expelled from the country that was, despite everything, regarded as our homeland. The fact that the Turkish government did not cause us any difficulties even during the period without a passport, but rather helped us in a generous way to get through that period, should be emphasized here with special gratitude.

Fritz Neumark was a German-Jewish financial scientist and Rector of the University of Frankfurt in 1954/55 and 1961/62. In the spring of 1933, Fritz Neumark lost his professorship at the University of Frankfurt because of his Jewish origins. In September 1933, he emigrated to Turkey with his wife and their two children, who were two and four years old. Through the mediation of the Notgemeinschaft deutscher Wissenschaftler im Ausland (Emergency Society for German Scholars in Exile), he was able to take up a professorship in the field of social hygiene and statistics at the University of Istanbul. Under the President Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, German scientists were welcome there. With their expertise, scientists in particular were to contribute to the development and modernization of Turkey.

He quickly acclimated and learned Turkish. This enabled him to maintain intensive contact with his students. Fritz Neumark soon edited an economics journal and wrote numerous professional publications. After the end of the war, Fritz Neumark initially remained in Turkey and headed the newly founded Institute of Financial Sciences at the University of Istanbul from 1946. He advised the Turkish government and central bank and was involved in the reform of the Turkish tax system. When he received a call to the University of Frankfurt in 1949, he initially accepted it only as a guest. In 1952 he decided to return to Germany permanently. He did not take German citizenship again until 1954, in addition to his Turkish citizenship.

Starting in 1933, Turkey invited specialized professionals and members of scientific and artistic professions from Germany to immigrate. They were to help develop economic, cultural and social life. Many were given leading positions, for example in ministries or at universities. At the University of Istanbul, more than half of the professorships were occupied by exiles by the mid-1940s. They passed on their professional and institutional knowledge and received a specialist salary in return. The conditions of their contracts also included learning the language quickly so that they would soon be able to teach and publish in Turkish. Political activity was forbidden to the emigrants.

Neumark, Fritz, Zuflucht am Bosporus. Deutsche Gelehrte, Politiker und Künstler in der Emigration 1933-1953. Frankfurt am Main: Verlag Josef Knecht 1980, pp. 182-183.

Translation from German to English © Minor Kontor / We Refugees Archive.