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When Jack Schimel told me about the honor to be bestowed upon me, I was naturally delighted. “What am I supposed to do in response?” I asked him. “You just say thank you,” he said. “Must I make a speech?” I enquired. “Just a few remarks,” he replied. Consequently I say thank you, thank you very much and shall make a few remarks.
On an occasion such as this, one's thoughts go back to the past, and a few words on the future of psychoanalysis may also be in order.
The first memory which comes to my mind goes back to the late twenties at which time a group of psychotherapists was formed in Berlin, Germany. Participants in this group included Franz Alexander, Karin Horney, J. H. Schultz, and my late friend Arthur Kronfeld who later, as a refugee, committed suicide in Moscow. A very young physician at the time, I naturally felt greatly honored to be invited to such an illustrious group. Its purpose was to confront and to reconcile psychotherapists of different theoretical orientations. Soon the clouds of Naziism gathered on the horizon. By Christmas, 1932, one of the leading national newspapers in Germany wished: “Peace to all who are of our opinion.” In January, 1933, Hitler came to power and my position at the University and my analytical training came to an end. I resumed it several years later at the London Institute of Psychoanalysis at which Anna Freud and Melanie Klein peacefully coexisted under one roof.
The war gave me unique opportunities for research. It was a progressive move on the part of the Army authorities, despite