Syphilis Knowledge between Spaces and Species: Animal Experiments on Java
Between 1905 and 1907, the dermatologist Albert Neisser led a research station on Java to investigate syphilis. As of 1906, the station was largely funded by the German government. At the time, syphilis was a feared, widespread, not yet curable disease associated with social stigma.1 As with other diseases, researchers hoped to find the cure for syphilis through animal experiments.2 However, this came at a “price.” The researchers needed to infect the animals and utilize the related knowledge about the transmission of syphilis in conducting the experiments. Moreover, they required “suitable” animals in the first place. In fact, Neisser got the idea for a research station on Java “[…] because the Sudan Islands are known to be the home of a number of higher and lower primates.”3 In my blogpost, I show how these primates were turned into syphilitic “objects of knowledge”4 at the station and explore the kinds of knowledges and resources that were required for the related processes. The example of the station provides new insights beyond the medical path to a cure for syphilis and knowledge about its prevention. Many of Neisser’s attempts at finding answers using primates in colonized spaces ultimately failed, while other researchers’ work in Europe led to much celebrated “successes.”
Knowledge and Research about Infecting Animals with Syphilis and Syphilis in Primates
Neisser made his way to Java for the first time in 1905 and a second time in 1907. He was accompanied by his wife and various European researchers, who also continued the experiments during Neisser’s absence. On Java, the researchers included their setup in already existing infrastructure provided by colonists from the Netherlands, like a military hospital or a laboratory.5 Additionally, they relied on locals for various tasks, such as taking care of the animals.
When the researchers began working at the station, the problem of infecting animals with syphilis had already been solved. Two French researchers had first managed this transfer the disease to a chimpanzee in 1903. Neisser had then been able to repeat this experiment before he left Europe.6 Yet, his increased need for primates led him to move his work, though he did not regard all primates as being of equal value for the experiments. He argued that “higher” primates were more suitable than “lower” ones because they were more receptive to syphilis.7 Additionally, he felt that one could observe the symptoms of syphilis better in the “higher” primates: “Beautifully developed” primary visual symptoms could only be seen on eyebrows or genitals of “lower” primates, whereas this was possible on other body parts in case of the “higher” ones.8 Neisser’s focus on symptoms further reveals that knowledge about transferring syphilis to animals was not sufficient. To make use of “syphilitic animals,” researchers required further knowledge about the characteristics of syphilis in animals.
The Fluid Materiality of Animal Bodies
Regardless of their success or failure, all experiments were part of the creation of primates as (non-)syphilitic “objects of knowledge.” This usually meant interfering with the animals’ bodies and their materiality. In the case of a syphilis transmission, a form of disease and its attendant symptoms were caused. A successful transmission was proven by the material presence of the disease in animals’ bodies. The animals’ materiality was further impacted by the transmission of substances alongside the pathogen. This included inoculations with blood or sperm from syphilitic humans, organs and blood from syphilitic children, or different parts of primates.9 Usually individual sections of the animals, like their genitals, were considered for transmission and other purposes. Here, animals as objects of knowledge were also characterized by a form of dissection from the researchers’ perspective as certain body parts received more attention than others. Yet, the disease could infect the animals’ overall health. Although Neisser described some of the effects of syphilis as not “too severe,” this was certainly a question of interpretation. For instance, his descriptions include orangutans being weak, less interested in eating, and affected by dysentery.10
Knowledge on How to Keep Research Animals Alive
The side effects of infections point out another essential condition for using animals in experiments: they had to be kept alive and in a “usable” state of health. This required human, economic, and spatial resources. In consequence, research at the medical station was not only shaped by scientific ideas but also pragmatic choices, like in the case of the primates’ selection. Neisser’s arguments on the transferability of syphilis suggest that he primarily meant to use larger primates like orangutans. In practice, however, smaller animals were used more frequently.11 It can be assumed that costs and availability that had already had an impact in Europe remained a crucial factor in Asia. Some primates still had to be imported to the station from areas such as Sumatra, Calcutta, or Borneo. Both imported and local primates mostly had to be captured, often using local help and knowledge. This barely changed as it turned out to be impossible to breed animals at the research station. A better working but more resource-intense strategy was to hand-feed young primates so they could adjust to the food provided during captivity (for which Neisser considered women most suitable).12

Neisser repeatedly pointed out that many experiments had to be carried out on numerous animals to achieve valid results, which in turn added up the required resources. The daily consumption of food by all the primates at the station gives an image of the situation: 1,700 to 2,000 bananas, 60 kilograms of rice prepared in a kitchen, 120 small loaves of bread, six to twelve chickens, tea, sugar, and biscuits. Several people were required to prepare the meals. Among them were (at least predominately) locals, according to photographs. The animals often lived in stables that had to be built and adapted to local conditions. The animals’ needs and behavior also had an impact: One kind of primate that was initially kept in cages quickly became sick and was then kept chained to trees. Some were allowed to roam freely, although they caused “the greatest mischief,” according to Neisser. Despite the gathering of knowledge on and adaption of food and housing, about one-sixth of the animals died in the first weeks after being captured. Injuries sustained during their capture, food refusal, diseases, or fights between primates were common causes.13
Spaces of Creating Knowledge
When one thinks about animal experiments, laboratories might be the first space that comes to mind. Examples like stables show that looking at spaces labeled as “labs” cannot capture the spatial complexity involved in animal experiments. It also marginalizes actors involved in feeding and care, most of whom came from outside of Europe in this example. Nevertheless, laboratory spaces played a crucial role at the station. During the temporary relocation of animals between stables and the “labs,” the transmission of syphilis and further experiments took place. It is also possible that the stables were partly integrated in the experiments. The experiments and the moving of animals were accompanied by constant fluctuations in status: “captured” primates were turned into lab animals receiving increased human attention.14 They were marked by symptoms and pathogens as well as numbers and record sheets – adding further material dimensions.
Humans and Animals in Contact
Moreover, the pathogen remained in constant motion through humans, animals, and “lab” spaces. The pathogen’s travels mark the hierarchical constitution of human-animal relations. Animals were deemed a “living environment for the pathogen”15 and instruments to gather knowledge for humans. The hierarchical relations also shaped everyday contact. Yet, within such interactions, it is sometimes possible to trace the animals’ “resistance.” When Neisser described the practice of transferring the pathogen, he explained that animals had to be deeply “scarified.” The wound was rubbed with a substance containing the pathogen. He then recommended holding the animal for five to ten minutes so that it would be unable to remove the substance.16 Thus, researchers forced animals to remain in certain positions. The other way round, animals’ needs forced researchers to provide a certain level of care – executed by other humans in different positions.
Animal Experiments Providing Answers?
At the station, the effort to keep animals alive and gather knowledge on syphilis in animals was underpinned by a wide range of questions. Neisser wanted to solve the progression of syphilis, serodiagnosis, immunity, immunization, infectiousness, prevention, therapy and – even though he did not claim this officially – to identify the pathogen. To Neisser’s dismay, other researchers in Europe succeeded in identifying it in 1905.17 While this was a setback for Neisser, he remained in the field of syphilis research. Neisser’s search for serum therapy had already begun in the late nineteenth century with experiments on female prostitutes and other women. These experiments led to a public scandal and a legal conviction that “inspired” Neisser to turn to animals as research subjects in the first place. When he worked at the medical station, more than 900 primates were used until the end of 1905 without meaningful success. However, in 1906, when Neisser was involved in research on serodiagnosis in Europe between his travels, he was able, together with August Wassermann and Carl Bruck, to publish on what became known as the “Wassermann test.” For their collaboration, Neisser provided antisera from primates kept at his home university in Breslau. The test was then also used at the station but did not help in solving questions regarding serum therapy. Thus, when Neisser declared the station’s end, he admitted he had not found a path to immunity.18 At the same time, animal experiments in Europe continued, often using cheaper local animals like rabbits as other researchers had systemized the transfer of syphilis to them.19
Overall, the experiments at the station helped scientists to gain a better understanding of syphilis, and even though Neisser’s goals were not achieved, the animal experiments were part of the ongoing syphilis research. They highlight a process of trial and error leading to hundreds of primates becoming “objects of knowledge.” In this process, the syphilis pathogen circulated between humans and animals across Europe and Asia.
Animals as “Objects of Knowledge” in Today’s Research: A Historian’s Perspective
My blogpost is based on the premise that the primates used as “objects of knowledge” provide new perspectives for approaches related to the history of knowledge. Of course, we only know about the animals’ behavior through human sources.20 Nonetheless, I argue that focusing on the animals allows us to move beyond narratives of “great discoverers,” gain new insights into discourses surrounding disease, and learn about previously neglected human groups beyond researchers who were involved in the capture and care of animals. In the case of the station, the members of these groups often originated from non-European regions. Neisser also mentioned women taking care of young primates, transferring gendered ideas of caretaking in the process. In their contemporaries’ reception and even up to today, forms of knowledge of such groups are often withheld despite their crucial role in enabling research.21
Victoria Morick is a PhD student at the Department for Modern and Medieval History at the University of Göttingen. Her dissertation project is concerned with “syphilitic objects of knowledge” and their role in constructing forms of knowledge about this venereal disease in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It is funded by the German Academic Scholarship Foundation.
- For an introduction to the changing perspectives on syphilis at the time, see, e.g., Malte König, “Syphilisangst in Deutschland und Frankreich: Hintergrund, Beschwörung und Nutzung einer Gefahr 1880–1940,” in Infiziertes Europa: Seuchen im langen 20. Jahrhundert, ed. Malte Thießen (Berlin: De Gruyter Oldenbourg, 2014).[↩]
- For an overview of research on animal experiments, see Axel C. Hüntelmann, “History of Animal Experiments and the History of Animal Experiment,” in Handbook of Historical Animal Studies, ed. Mieke Roscher, André Krebber and Brett Mizelle (Berlin: De Gruyter Oldenburg, 2021).[↩]
- Albert Neisser, “Einleitung,” in Bericht über die unter finanzieller Beihilfe des Deutschen Reiches während der Jahre 1905–1909 in Batavia und Breslau durchgeführten Arbeiten zur Erforschung der Syphilis, ed. Albert Neisser (Berlin: Verlag von Julius Springer, 1911), 6 (transl. by the author).[↩]
- On “Knowledge Objects” (Wissensdinge), see Anita Hermannstädter, Ina Heumann and Kerstin Pannhorst, “Einführung: Fisch und Wissensding,” in Wissensdinge: Geschichten aus dem Naturkundemuseum, ed. idem, 2nd ed. (Berlin: Reimer, 2021).[↩]
- C. Bendick and A. Scholz, “Albert Neissers Expeditionen nach Java 1905 und 1907,” Hautarzt 56 (2005): 116–23.[↩]
- Neisser, “Einleitung,” 3–4.[↩]
- Albert Neisser, “Abschnitt V. Pathologie der Affensyphilis,” in Bericht, ed. idem, 84.[↩]
- Albert Neisser, Die experimentelle Syphilisforschung nach ihrem gegenwärtigen Stande (Berlin: Verlag von Julius Springer, 1906), 16.[↩]
- Neisser, Die experimentelle Syphilisforschung, 12.[↩]
- Albert Neisser, “Abschnitt VI. Generealisierte Syphilis bei allen Affenarten,” in Bericht, ed. idem, 92–93.[↩]
- Neisser, “Einleitung,” 22.[↩]
- Ibid., 15–19.[↩]
- Ibid., 10–25.[↩]
- Axel C. Hüntelmann, “Mäuse, Menschen, Menagerien. Laborchimären und ihre wechselvolle Beziehung im Königlich Preußischen Institut für experimentelle Therapie nach 1900,” in Philosophie der Tierforschung, Vol. 3: Milieus und Akteure, ed. Matthias Wunsch, Martin Böhnert and Kristian Köchy (Munich: Karl Alber, 2018), 233–35.[↩]
- Hüntelmann, “History,” 516.[↩]
- Albert Neisser, “Abschnitt I. Die primären Erscheinungen bei der Affensyphilis,” in Bericht, ed. idem, 52.[↩]
- Bendick and Scholz, “Albert Neissers Expeditionen,” 116–18.[↩]
- Henk van den Belt, “Spirochaetes, Serology, and Salvarsan: Ludwik Fleck and the Construction of Medical Knowledge about Syphilis,” PhD diss., Wageningen University 1997, 138–40.[↩]
- Stefan Wünsch, Das erkrankte Geschlecht. Medizin und Prostitution im Berlin des 19. und frühen 20. Jahrhunderts (Würzburg: Königshausen & Neumann, 2020), 184.[↩]
- Hüntelmann, “History,” 523.[↩]
- On the importance of thinking of different forms of knowledge and knowledge orders, see, e.g., Simone Lässig, “The History of Knowledge and the Expansion of the Historical Research Agenda,” Bulletin of the GHI Washington 59 (2016): 40.[↩]
OpenEdition suggests that you cite this post as follows:
Victoria Morick (March 10, 2025). Syphilis Knowledge between Spaces and Species: Animal Experiments on Java. History of Knowledge. Retrieved March 17, 2025 from https://doi.org/10.58079/13fzw