Albert Schweitzer

A Most Merry and Illustrated Tribute to a Gentle, Cantakerous, Kind, Onery, and Great Humanitarian

Lambaréné, Gabon is not a place usually visited by mainstream tourists. But the travelers to this city just 75 kilometers south of the equator will sometimes stop by l'Hopital du Albert Schweitzer even if they have only a vague notion of who Albert was. Oh, they probably know he was a physician who helped the indigenous people of Africa, but as like as not they won't know much about Albert's personal philosophy or - to use today's wording - his unusual career path. Before he became a qualified physician practicing in Africa, he had been a student, a college administrator, a musicologist, a performing musician, a theologian, and an ordained Lutheran minister.

Albert was born in Kaysersberg, Alsace on January 14, 1875. Alsace is a province at the border of France and Germany and had been forever bouncing back and forth between German and French sovereignty depending on who won the last war. When Albert was born, Alsace belong to Germany, so Albert was a German citizen. If he had been born five years earlier he would have been French.

Albert's father was a kind if somewhat stern Lutheran minister. Prayers were said at all meals and before bedtime, and naturally attendence at Father Schweitzer's church services was de rigeur for the entire family. Albert never complained about his dad's religious regimen - in fact, he liked going to church - but he didn't understand why his parents said you shouldn't bother praying for animals as well as people. But that was a minor disagreement in a normally happy household. The only point where Albert seriously disagreed with his dad was the need to write horribly long thank-you notes whenever he received a gift. It got to the point where Albert dreaded Christmas, and whenever he sent a gift to a child he always included a letter saying "A thank-you note is not required."

There was no doubt that young Albert would attend university, but it wasn't clear exactly what he was best suited for. He sincerely wanted to pursue some religious vocation, but it was also clear his inquiring (and at times cantankerous) nature would be more of a hindrance than a boon to a run-of-the-mill career in the ministry. Albert also showed considerable musical ability, and he soon developed sufficient skill to stand in for the regular organist on Sunday. Albert's family had a line of musicians and through the contacts of his Uncle Charles, he was able to play for the famous French organist Charles-Marie Widor. Normally Charles-Marie only taught students enrolled at the French academy, but he was so impressed with the young organist, he gave Albert private lessons. Albert was grateful, but he didn't really think he was that good and was always puzzled that Charles-Marie took him on.

As a kid, Albert noticed the discrepancy in his own comfortable lifestyle and that of the poor who had to survive on charity. Being raised in a home which stressed the good deeds of Christ, he felt he should do something to help the underprivileged. So he came to a decision. For the time being, he would do what he wanted. Of course, for Albert it meant continuing to study religion, philosophy, and music. Then after he turned thirty, he decided he would devote his life to helping mankind. Unlike many of the well meaning people who make a similar vow, Albert actually kept it.

Albert's educational career can be confusing to those accustomed to today's modern and rigid university curricula with its required classes and scheduled examinations. Although you might read on the Fount of All Knowledge (i. e., the Internet) that Albert had doctorates of philosophy, theology, and musicology, his education was not so extensive. He graduated from the gymnasium at Mulhouse where he was not really thought of as a particularly good student. But an education from a gymnasium - which went up through the high school years - taught much that was equivalent to the undergraduate college level. After graduation, Albert enrolled at the University of Strasbourg.

Despite articles on the Fount which claim Albert got a Ph. D. from the Sorbonne, his first degree after high school - following six years of study - was from Strasbourg. Yes, he did study at the Sorbonne and also at Berlin - but these were really self-study trips to use the libraries, talk to the professors, and were used to gather material for his thesis which was about the philosophy of Immanuel Kant. The thesis, it must be emphasized was a requirement for his degree from Strasbourg.

If you read about Albert's education, you come away with the impression of a do-your-own-thing college career of a young man reading voraciously but with only a general direction from the faculty. This is actually pretty close to the mark. After all, in Albert's day, universities were places for middle class or rich kids - kind of like today - but not necessarily where you went to learn a marketable skill. In what are now called the liberal arts, there was a lot of flexibility in what you studied, and there were no periodic tests throughout a term like at American universities. College student bodies were much smaller than today, and the primary mode of learning was through tutors - that is, one-on-one instruction where the student met with the professor once or twice a week. Whether a professor actually gave lectures in a classroom was up to him, and attendance was not required. Since a diligent student could learn the subject from his tutorials and private study, lectures might be attended by only a handful of students (particularly if the instructor was a rotten speaker). It wasn't unheard of for a teacher to abandon a series of lectures before the term was ended.

To qualify for professions like medicine and law, there were the university examinations which were usually scheduled between terms plus the government's licensing examinations like we have today. But for subjects like philosophy, theology, and literature, the college examinations were essays on highly specialized topics which were announced in advance. For Albert one of his tests was to write an essay on The Last Supper: Schleirmacher's View Compared with the New Testament Conception and the Faith of the Reformers. So the students had plenty time to cram for the test. Naturally there was a lot of subjectivity on scoring such tests, and if the committee thought you were a great student you could pass even if you didn't do so well on the actual test.

In fact, when graduation time came in 1899, Albert barely squeaked by. True, he knew a lot about Kant - which is what his thesis was about - and his teachers thought his written thesis was fine. But when the oral examination came, the committee was decidedly unimpressed with Albert's understanding how Kant's philosophy had been interpreted by others. After all, the student was expected to be well versed in the general scholarship and the history of his specialty. If Albert had not been so well liked - he was one of the more enthusiastic students - he would have gotten the boot. But Albert got his degree.

It's not easy to sort out exactly what Albert's various degrees were since names and titles bestowed by German universities at that time (and largely now) are not exactly the same as in other universities. Certainly, the writing and defending of a thesis are needed for a modern doctorate, and while Albert's official Nobel Prize biography does call the degree a Ph. D., Albert's most recent and principal biographer refers to Albert's sheepskin simply as "a degree". To keep things in perspective, Ludwig Wittgenstein, who became professor of Philosophy at Cambridge University, had no degree higher than a Bachelor of Arts. For his BA, Ludwig also submitted a thesis which, by the way, he wrote while he was a prisoner of war in Italy.

Whatever you want to call Albert's degree, it was his first degree received after leaving high school (i. e., the gymnasium). Given the rigid control the German government exercised over the professions (including college teaching), his degree was actually quite limited in what it qualified Albert to do.

With Albert's "degree" one thing he could do was apply for the position of privadozent of the university. At some German universities today, a privadozent is roughly like an associate professorship in America. But in Albert's time it was simply the right to lecture at the university. A privatdozent was not a real faculty position and was not even the equivalent of an adjunct professorship. If anything, it was nothing more than a guest lecturer and did not carry a regular salary. In any case, Albert's degree was not sufficiently advanced to qualify him to hold a college professorship and so wasn't even equivalent to an Oxbridge BA like Ludwig's which qualified the recipient to teach at the college level and even hold professorships. In other words, with his degree and fünf pfennigs, Albert could buy eine Tasse Kaffee.

Throughout his six year student career Albert had been supported by what was known as the Goll Scholarship which provided enough for a student to get by with reasonable comfort. Although after graduation Albert had been eligible for continued Goll support, there was another student who Albert realized needed the money to continue his own studies. But Albert, like all scholars, had to eat, and if he gave up the Goll money he had to find some other source of income Since he had always wanted to follow in his dad's footsteps, Albert applied for a post of deacon in Strasbourg's Church of St. Nicholas. A deacon had a modest stipend, but it wasn't very much since a deacon could preach only as part of a service officiated by a bonafide minister.

So Albert decided to take the test for a licentiate. This was also a university awarded degree, but as its name implied it also had the force of a license to practice a profession. With a licentiate Albert could finally hold a university professorship. Although the degree required no new coursework, and no new thesis he did have to go before an examining board of professors. The examiners knew Albert quite well, and it was pretty certain that those who would grill him on the subject at hand (in Albert's case, theology) would grant the degree.

There was one glitch. Before he could actually preach in the church, Albert also had to be ordained as a Lutheran curate, that is a full fledged minister. Only then could he hold services on his own. But the board of examiners for the curate were mostly stodgy conservative ministers and were a bit suspicious of this young man armed with what were becoming non-traditional views on religion. But one of the board was friendly with Albert, and they granted Albert his license to preach although they did worry Albert's sermons might "confuse" the younger members of the congregation. Albert then went on to get his licentiate and was accepted as a curate at St. Nicholas with the same pay as his Goll scholarship.

In 1901 the Theological College of St.Thomas - the college of religion at Strasbourg - had an opening. Albert was quite well respected by the faculty, and it was almost inevitable that he would be hired. His job was largely administrative but he engaged in theological studies as well. So by the turn of the century, Albert was a very busy man. With his college appointment, his ministerial duties, and his growing reputation as a musician and musicologist, Albert had little time for anything else. Although he was a bachelor whom the ladies in general liked, his only serious attachment we know of was with a young lady named Hélène Bresslau who was the daughter of a Jewish professor. Hélène, it should be mentioned, had also made a vow to work for the good of mankind, but by the age of 25 - not as Albert had - at thirty.

As his crucial third decade approached, Albert was well set up for a comfortable if busy life as a minister, musician, and university scholar. He had attracted quite a bit of attention with his theological writings (not always positive) and was a recognized expert on the music of Bach and the technical restoration of antique church organs. But his thirtieth birthday was nigh, and he fully intended to carry do what his earlier promise.

Evidently Albert didn't have too much trouble deciding what to do. This was the era of colonization, and he read that there was a need for doctors in Africa. The trouble is Albert, despite his degree, his licentiate, and his curate qualification, was not - as they say - a "real" doctor. But that was no problem. Strasbourg had its own medical school, and he struck a deal with the administration. He would continue to stay on in his current job, but could also attend medical classes. Although not officially enrolled and paying no tuition (a professor could not be a student in other departments), he could take the course tests provided the medical school professors issued a certificate of attendance. At the end of the course work, he would take the government qualifying tests to get his medical license.

Although the university was agreeable to this grueling schedule, his family and friends were unanimous in their dismay. Not only was the workload incredible, but Albert had no real background in science, and it was very iffy whether he even had the temperament to be either a missionary or a doctor. Fortunately, if you graduated from a German gymnasium you had the prerequisites for pursing almost any career. Besides Albert's mind was made up. Pushing himself nearly to the point of physical breakdown, seven years later, at age 38, he received his medical degree.

But there was one more hurdle to overcome before he could fulfill his vow to serve mankind. And to detail that barrier and the solution, we need to back up and discuss Albert the Theologian.

While he was at Strasbourg, Albert had published a lot, particularly considering this was an era when publishing was not the raison d'etre for universities. Albert's writings had attracted considerable attention, not only from his fellow theologians but from the informed layman as well. His most famous title, published in 1906, was The Quest for the Historical Jesus. That is, Albert was trying to find out how the Christ of reality differed from the Christ as depicted in the Bible. Given the fact that Albert is largely regarded as one of the most Christian of Christian missionaries, people who bother to open the book will be shocked! shocked! by what they read.

Today if most practitioners of the major 21st Century religions were to read Albert's book, they would sneer and dismiss Albert as a mere (ptui) "liberal theologian", or more likely they would rant he was a godless heathen. Albert readily conceded that the miracles of the Bible - the virgin birth, walking on water, the loaves and fishes, the raising of Lazarus - might have been just legends or events that were distorted or exaggerated over time. To Albert the true message of the Gospels was the doing of good deeds and the ethics of charity toward your fellow man (a fundamental tenet, by the way, of the Jewish faith). To a True Christian, Albert thought, it was irrelevant if the miracles were true or not. In other words, his belief system was very much like that expounded in William Barrets's The Lilies of the Field, a philosophy that can only be gleaned if you read the (superb) novel rather than watch the (admittedly excellent) movie.

Albert noted, as have many other theologians, that there were passages where the early Christians and even Christ himself said the world will come to end during their own lifetimes, or failing that, soon thereafter. This is the famous "eschatological" interpretation of the Gospels and which became a decided no-no in the religious teachings as solidified in the United States after the mid-1960's. There are two options to explain the passages away if you don't want to accept them literally. One is the Nixonian "that's-what-I said-but-not-what-I-meant" approach which is the most popular way out today. That is, saying the Kingdom being nigh is a very flexible concept, and the meaning depends on what really ends up happening. If you said it and it didn't happen, then you really meant something else. Or you can take the tack of the modern contra-Albert theologians who say that such references were most likely inserted in the Bible by later writers. In other words, to show Christ was not mistaken, you just say the Bible was tampered with.

For his part, Albert was convinced that the disciples and Christ himself meant exactly what they said. They did indeed believe that Judgment Day was upon them and were just flat out wrong. So yes, Virginia, Albert would have said, Christ made a mistake. But Albert went further and said (as America's 3rd president Thomas Jefferson believed) that Christ was not a divine being, and worse! and worse!, Albert concluded the resurrection did not even happen! Instead, it was a legend that grew out of the needs of the early Christians to deal with the unexpected and untimely death of their leader and the failure of his prophecies. But if someone were to engage Albert in a spittle flinging diatribe on how could such beliefs could be called Christianity at all, Albert would have just smiled and repeated that for the True Christian, it doesn't matter.

But it did matter to the review board that approved missionaries going to Africa. At the time virtually all of central Africa was controlled by the French or at least was under heavy French influence. Any missionary - including doctors - had to get the Stamp of Approval from what was for all practical purposes a religious wing of the French government. The board was intent on converting the heathen, and the last thing they needed was some young whippersnapper and wiseacre like Albert mucking with the minds of the poor indigenous Africans. Albert realizing that if he appeared before the board he would get broadsided, arranged to meet each member separately.

Eventually a compromise was reached. Albert could go to Africa, run the hospital at his own expense, but he could not preach. That was fine with Albert and after raising his own funds (partly through a series of organ concerts), Albert set up a hospital at Andende near the town of Lambaréné in the colony of Gabon. For what it's worth, Albert made such a good impression on the French religious missionaries at Andende, and since they realized he would not likely initiate complex theological discussions with the natives (few of whom spoke French or German), they soon gave him the OK to preach.

However, in a year World War I broke out. Officially Albert was a German national at war with France, and he was living in French territory. So he and Hélène (whom he recently married), were informed they were now prisoners of war and placed under house arrest. However, in a few months the French commander realized the idiocy of locking the doctor and head nurse of a hopital up, and Albert and Hélène were allowed to go back to work. Then in 1917, the French prime minister, Georges Clemenceau, worried that security was too lax in the colonies and ordered the enemy aliens in the French colonies to be interred in France. So Schweitzers ended up being sent to St. Remy which thirty years earlier had been a mental hospital whose most famous inmate was Vincent Van Gogh. Actually the relocation was really beneficial for Albert, who by that time was exhausted from the never-ending work in Africa.

Albert and Hélène remained in France until 1918. Under the Armistice, Alscace, Albert's home province, had once more become part of France, and the Schweitzers elected to become French citizens. The biggest irony is that if Albert had been five years older, he might have been a French citizen from the start and avoided all that nonsense.

Due to health problems and post-war logistical issues, it was 1924, when Albert was 50, before he returned to Gabon. Hélène remained in Alsace with their daughter, Rhena, who had been born in 1919. For years, Albert and Hélène only saw each other during his rare fundraising trips to Europe. But they accepted their separation as necessary, and even Rhena got used to the idea of an absentee father. Then in 1941, after Germany invaded France, Hélène returned to Africa to be with her husband.

But back in Gabon, the hospital was in need of major repair. It was also too small to handle the number of patients who came flocking back, but with the river on one side and equitorial swamps on the other, expansion would be difficult. So Albert decided to move the hospital to Andalindalongo a couple of miles upriver. Later he moved directly across from the town of Lambaréné and established the hospital which is still running today.

Any discussion of Albert's life must mention his most famous philosophy which was the Ehrfurcht vor dem Leben and best translated as "Reverence for Life". Albert felt no one should kill anything, although it was sometimes necessary, he realized, in a world where even nature was ruled by strife and contention. And when Albert said anything, he meant anything and that included both animals, insects, plants, and even microbes.

Paradoxically, Albert believed you still did what you have to do. When he and Hélène first arrived in Africa, they found their bungalow was - literally - crawling with spiders and insects. They spent the better part of the first night exterminating their six- and eight-legged fellow creatures. Albert didn't bat an eye. He may have believed in reverence for life but he couldn't live in a house full of bugs. Besides, as people who worked with him quickly found out, Albert was no sentimentalist.

His reverence for life, Albert admitted, did not arise from reading the Christian Bible. Instead it was the teachings of Buddha that helped Albert solidfy what was actually a childhood instinct into a firm rational philosophy. So by the time he died in 1965 at age 90, the world universally looked on Albert as the wise and compassionate white haired humanitarian and healer of Lambaréné, who believed all living creatures a part of God's kingdom - very much the man expounding his gentle philosophy to Sean Flanery in The Young Indiana Jones.

But just as Albert had taken on the Quest of the Historical Jesus, even in his own lifetime writers and journalists began taking potshots in their Quest for the Historical Albert. That actually wasn't that hard to do since even as a young man Albert had a demanding and some would say self-centered character.

Albert always had writers knocking on his door for interviews, and he was happy to oblige. Usually they came away and wrote how Albert had given up a lucrative and comfortable career to bury himself in the tropics in the service of mankind. However, after visiting Lambaréné two writers, the journalist James Cameron and the novelist John Gunther, painted less than flattering portraits of the man. Albert was not, we learn, the saintly humanitarian of popular fancy. Au contraire, as they say, he was actually a martinet and a harsh disciplinarian whose hospital was cramped and unsanitary even by the standards of the day. His attitude toward the poor Gabonese was that of a condescending colonial at best, and he felt that the native Africans did not merit what would be considered minimal conveniences expected by and given to Europeans. Saint Albert? Huh! Not (as Eliza Doolittle would say) bloody likely.

Actually what James and John saw was simply Albert in action. Back in Alsace, Albert had been cantankerous, ornery, and demanding even to his family. When it came time to practice the organ, he would haul one of his sisters with him to the church and make her work the bellows until she literally was ready to drop. What really surprises the readers about the benevolent sage of Lambaréné was he had a temper that by today's standards would have got him in plenty of hot water. Once Albert was so pleased with his nephew's reading of Latin that they both went over to one of Albert's academic friends. But after his nephew began to read, he made an error, and Albert smacked him across the face so hard it caused the boy's nose to bleed. Today in most countries such an act would land you in family counseling at best and at least in - quote - "modern Western socities" - unquote - in the hoosegow. But Albert was very much a man of his age when hitting kids was thought the right way to raise them. Certainly getting your tail thrashed had been standard discipline chez Schwetizer. To Albert's credit, once he cooled down, he did tell his nephew he was sorry - years after the event.

It can't be denied, though that as a taskmaster Albert was second to none, and he never let people forget he was in charge. But he had ways to let the person know an explosion was neither personal nor a reflection on the ability or professional qualifications of the individual. Once in an argument with a nurse, he shouted for her to get out and that he didn't want to see her again. But before she made it to the door, he called her back and asked if she wanted to borrow some of his books. She came back, picked out a couple of volumes, and left the room. Naturally she kept working for Albert. Albert's temper was something everyone learned to live with, and he inevitably wrote good recommendations for people who left.

Albert's attitude toward the Gabonese is also fine fodder for revisionist historians. It is sometimes said that Albert's hospital was segregated, and this is both right and wrong. There were separate wings for European patients (yes, there were European patients) and the natives, but the staff and visitors, black or white, shared the same facilities and ate together. And lest Americans puff themselves up in righteous indignation on Albert's backward stance, they should remember that when Albert was alive not only were segregated hospitals the norm in America, but in many places they were the law. Even as late as the mid-1970's, a state official in one of the more conservative US states was horrified when he found that a black citizen was to be admitted to a local (up to then all white) hospital, and in the 1980's an organizer of a business conference at a luxury hotel in --- (well, we won't get into that) - was told by the hotel manager that they would not be welcome back since they had included blacks in the attendance. Even today some realtors will tell homeowners of certain ethnic groups that, sorry, the house they are interested in buying has already been sold when the home is still very much on the market. So although it would have been to Albert's great credit had he not separated the patients by race, it is perhaps over-censorious to expect him to depart from what was then near universal practice even in (or perhaps we should say especially in) the Home of the Free and the Land of Jim Crow.

At the same time, it cannot be denied that Albert's daily dealings with individual Africans were often quite testy, to the point it sometimes bothered even his most loyal assistants. Albert's doings were, in fact, a frequent topic of conversation when he was out of earshot. For instance, Albert steadfastly refused to install toilets for the Gabonese. Some of the assistants told Albert that the lack of a latrine for the natives was increasing the risk of disease and volunteered to build a latrine at no extra cost. But Albert dismissed such a luxury as unnecessary for the natives. One of the nurses left the hospital because of that issue.

How do we explain Albert's attitude? Was he simply caught up in his own self image as the Savior of the Savages while in reality he was a thoughtless, mean-spirited and cantankerous old cuss. ? Well, certainly, Albert could be a cantankerous old cuss, but remember that Albert was born in 1875 and naturally grew up with with 19th century values. He also had the fortune (or misfortune) to live well into the permissive and liberal 1960's, and so ended up being judged by mid- and late 20th century standards. Virtually anyone will come up short if judged by standards nearly a century removed from his own era.

But most of all, Albert was very much a man of the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" school of thought. He came to Africa at a time when even many European homes had no electricity, running water or indoor plumbing. So even after World War II, he saw nothing amiss to keeping things as they were, nice and simple. No electricity (except for necessary medical equipment), no running water, and minimal luxuries. For the younger European assistants, living with Albert in Africa was a major step down in comfort. For the Gabonese, the hospital was really no different than what they were used to.

What some have interpreted as indifference and prejudice were really deliberate policy that was intended to insure the patients would not be afraid to come in for help. That is, Albert wanted the hospital to be as similar to the patients' home village as possible and so reduce the culture shock of coming in to be treated by western techniques. If at home the Africans got their water from the river and used the bush for routine sanitary needs, Albert saw no reason to change anything. The "comforts" for the Europeans were also pretty rudimentary; kerosene lamps for light and having an outhouse which was a hut with a board and a hole. The difference in such "comforts" between the Europeans and Africans may have looked to outside visitors like a discrepancy and pandering to the staff, but rightly or wrongly, Albert didn't see it that way. Also Albert simply didn't have the funds to put in a gleaming white shiny hospital. We can't kick Albert, too much, since he did perform major surgery at the hospital and the recovery rate was as good, if not better, than those of a European hospital. Certainly, the Gabonese continued to flock to Albert for help, far more than to the government hospital across the river.

What was unique about Albert's hospital - and what made it so popular - is he permitted family members to come and stay with the patient. Actually having the family tag along was more help than not since the family knew they were expected to provide (or at least cook) the food for the patient and also to provide some form of payment for the medical treatment. But nothing was expected beyond what the patients could afford. Payment for a procedure (costing hundreds of thousands of dollars today) might be a chicken or a collection fruits or vegetables. That was fine as far as Albert was concerned. His philosophy was that if people actually paid something for a service - regardless of how little they paid - then they would appreciate its value more than if they just got it for free. Being able to pay also enhanced the patients' self esteem since they would not consider themselves simply living off charity. Besides, every little bit helped.

At the hospital, everyone - and that's everyone - who was able was expected to help with the various chores and tasks (the patients, too, if possible). Tropics are not the most genteel of environments, and there was always plenty to do just to maintain the buildings. He also found himself having to construct an entire village for leprosy patients, a job which required considerable, even if traditional, manpower.

As befitting a Lutheran minister, Albert also had quite the strong Protestant work ethic and believed that work meant physical work. He not only ministered to the patients but would pitch in and do manual labor himself. He told one journalist that Christ spent too much of his time preaching and not doing any real work. When the article appeared, one reader became so irritated by that remark that he fired off an angry letter about Albert to Life magazine.

Of course, explaining why Albert did what he did does not mean he is above reproach. There were times his actions even disturbed some of his assistants and admirers. For instance, some noted that his "reverence for life" sometimes seemed to be slanted toward the decorative plants and animals rather than people. Albert might take considerable effort to protect an old tree whose roots were damaged with age while griping at the African workers who were trying to help. Worse, to some it appeared his fondness for our four footed friends took precedence over his ministering to the African patients. Once a nurse felt that that one of the sick Gabonese should be given extra food. But that would have been against the rules. So the nurse settled on a solution she knew would work. She told the Good Doctor that her dog was sick. A sick dog? Well, we can't let a poor pooch suffer, can we? So he let the nurse prepare an extra big bowl of rice and meat. She took it, of course, to the patient.

In his day-to-day dealings with the natives the Good Doctor at times went beyond the bounds of good taste. One American Peace Corps worker (and who on the whole was very positive toward Albert) remembered Albert would actually cuff the natives (even women) if they made a simple mistake at their jobs and would disgustingly refer to the natives as "diese verdammten Affen" (a phrase which we will not translate). For his part the American himself found that the native workers were cheerful, hard working, and actually wanted to do a good job. One problem was that Albert had never bothered learning the local Gabonese dialects, and few of the poorer Gabonese spoke French or German. Sometimes they simply didn't know exactly what le Grand Docteur wanted them to do.

That said, even at this late date and with the mania for revisionist history, those who worked with Albert remain almost universally positive about the man, his work, and their time with him. Albert always needed volunteers, and he welcomed them. But if you went there he did expect you to work your tail off no matter who you were. Once at a Hollywood-crowd party, actor Hugh O'Brian - television's Wyatt Earp - met Norman Cousins, the editor of the Saturday Review of Literature. Norman had written an article about Albert, and Hugh said he would like to meet the great man. In a few weeks Hugh received a personal handwritten note from Albert saying Hugh would be welcome at any time. Hugh went to Africa and among other duties helped the build baby cribs and pass out food.

The Albert Schweitzer hospital is still operating in Lambaréné and has been modernized (immediately after Albert died the staff put in toilets for the patients). Now involved in clinical research as part of international programs in treatment of diseases of sub-Saharan Africa, particularly malaria, it is now staffed by both African and European physicians, nurses, and assistants. Despite the fact that Albert was a human being and at times a tough taskmaster, the big picture is that the hospital wouldn't be there if it wasn't for its founder, and there is a museum on the grounds dedicated to Albert.

Albert very well understood that much of his difficulty of dealing with the natives were due to culture and value differences, and that the white man's way was not always in the African's best interest. Under the Western colonization with its Protestant work ethic, the Gabonese lost a lifestyle where day-to-day freedom and the ability to choose was central. But it was hard to keep a high minded dispassionate attitude in running a 500 bed hospital which was habitually understaffed and underfunded. Albert often despaired of the never ending work and the day-to-day problems that if solved just paved way for more problems. Once when he could not stop the natives from drinking infected water that was causing a particularly virulent form of dysentery, he threw himself into a chair while his long time assistant Joseph Azowani stood by.

"What a blockhead I was for coming here to doctor savages like these!" Albert cried.

"Yes, doctor," Joseph replied, "Here on earth you are a great blockhead, but not in heaven."

References

Albert Schweitzer: A Biography, James Brabazon, Syracuse University Press, 2000. There's been many-a biography about Albert but this is the definitive volume at present. Quite favorable to Albert one big advantage of this book is it explains Albert's writings which - if anyone given them a try - can be a bit hard going.

"Man of Mercy: Africa's misery turns saintly Albert Schweitzer into a hard taskmaster", Life Magazine, November 15, 1954, p. 161. Emphasizes the work that had to be done at Lambaréné, and mentions Albert's explosions when surpervising workers. Albert pointed out that if you had not see him in Africa, you had not really seen the real Albert.

"A Peace Corps Year with Nigerians", Bill Shurtleff, Diesterweg, 1966..

"A Post-Peace Corps Experience: Reflections on a Year Spent at the Albert Schweitzer Hospital", Jack Finlay and John Skeese, Friends of Nigeria Website. Again highly positive toward Albert but the article mentions he has his detractors. On the other hand the authors point out that in the government hospital across the river, there were always empty beds, while Albert's hospital was always filled.

"How Hugh O'Brian met Albert Schweitzer: Wyatt Earp actor's African encounter has changed the lives of hundreds of thousands of young people" Los Angeles Times, Sept. 20, 2009. This story tells about - as the title says - how Hugh met Albert and how it led to Hugh O'Brien's work for developing leadership in the young - something Albert felt that modern education did not do well.