Indian Politics & Science

In the first half of this century, a number of Indian scientists carried out pioneering scientific research. C.V. Raman was awarded the 1930 Nobel Prize in physics; J.C. Bose, K.S. Krishnan, S.N. Bose, and Meghnad Saha also made major contributions. For example, Saha was responsible for the installation of a cyclotron in India in 1941. Such luminaries emerged as a result of the high scientific traditions which were then well established in Indian universities.

But Indian science today, which is heavily skewed toward nuclear, military, and space research, has failed to deliver significant advances either to the scientific world at large or to the Indian people. Despite repeated official claims that India is among the top ten industrialized nations in the world, with the third largest stock of scientific and technological personnel, the country's science and technology enterprise has had little effect on the daily lives of millions of Indians. Why has Indian science, for all its early promise, failed to become a vector of social change?

Although it is not easy to do so, much of the blame for this failure must be placed on two men whom history has set on a high pedestal: Homi J. Bhabha, tsar of Indian science policy during the 1950s and 1960s, and his patron, Jawaharlal Nehru. In the canon of Indian science it is blasphemy to criticize Bhabha or to question the wisdom of Nehru in giving Bhabha a free hand during a crucial period. Yet the legacy of that period, especially the cult of personality it encouraged, [1] weighs heavily on Indian scientific endeavor to this day.



In the days before Indian independence, scientific activity depended mostly on the interest of individuals and required only small funds. In practice, scientific activities were open and universal, and publication of results was considered a scientist's most important function. In this situation, Indian scientists were able to contribute directly to the advancement of science, and they did so. The gap between European and Indian science was relatively small.

World War II, especially the development of atomic weapons, changed all that. Not only did science lose its innocence in the destructive discovery of nuclear fission, but the gigantic enterprise that produced the bomb unalterably united science and technology. The period from 1948 to 1958, the first decade of the Cold War, gave a big push to war science and technology. In the advanced countries, "big science" activities, which grew from the industrial and technological base established by the war, took great leaps forward.

The peoples of India and other less developed countries, on the other hand, were involved during this period with restructuring their societies after 200 years of colonial rule. And as India had not been involved in wartime science, it had no infrastructure on which to build new science and technology systems. As a result, India fell behind in the race for big science.

The Indian science community felt an urgent need to close this gap and believed that taming the atom for peaceful purposes was the most crucial field of endeavor. The first government of free India visualized a forward-looking atomic policy for the country and established the first Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) on August 10, 1948. Homi J. Bhabha, founder of the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research in Bombay, was named head of the commission, which was charged with taking steps "to protect the interest of the country in connection with Atomic Energy." The commission was also directed to "increase teaching and research facilities in nuclear physics in the Indian universities." Bhabha remained at the head of the commission until his death on January 24, 1966.

The Indian government must have been aware that fundamental research was already being carried out at various universities in the country, and prominent scientists had already institutionalized scientific research in the emerging areas of physics and other allied fields. For example, in this period C.V. Raman became the first Indian director of the Indian Institute of Sciences at Bangalore, and in 1944 Meghnad Saha established the first Indian Institute of Nuclear Physics at Calcutta, now named after Saha.

But after the AEC was set up, most scientific research was shifted from Calcutta to Bombay, the ancestral hometown of the Tata family to which Bhabha belonged. The ambitious chairman of the AEC was not inclined to accept the contribution of the universities. In fact, all institutional developments in fundamental nuclear sciences in India are now officially credited to Bhabha. The dedicated efforts of other scientists are ignored.

This did not happen without controversy. As Nehru's science policy adviser, Saha had been responsible for introducing scientific matters to the Indian National Congress before independence. He was instrumental in making Nehru the first nonscientist to preside over the Indian Science Congress in 1939. Saha opposed the idea of separating fundamental research from the mainstream of science teaching in the universities, and he was against the creation of an independent atomic energy agency. When the AEC was eventually formed, he refused to be associated with the nuclear establishment. But Nehru, as prime minister, did not heed the counsel of his old scientific mentor, and Saha was forced to take an independent stand on national science planning. By 1954, his was the lone voice of dissent. Indian science policy had become a captive of the state.



Nehru had fallen under Bhabha's influence, and India's science policy became extremely personalized under Bhabha's leadership. The people and Parliament were not informed about scientific plans, and the government was not inclined to seek critical opinion from nongovernmental scientists. In the formative years of science policy, the prime minister was deprived of the counsel of India's patriotic scientists.

In 1958, Bhabha, in consultation with Nehru, reconstituted the AEC in a manner that gave him a free hand in planning and executing his science policy. In a March 1 resolution, the government gave the AEC "full authority to plan and implement the various measures on sound technical and economic principles and free from all non-essential restrictions or needlessly inelastic rules." The AEC chairman was granted "full executive and financial powers" and was made the ex-officio secretary to the Department of Atomic Energy, responsible only to the prime minister. (The AEC is a policy-formulating body; the Department of Atomic Energy is the government agency responsible for executing the policy decisions of the AEC. Both are formally under an independent Ministry of Atomic Energy, but the prime minister has always held the office of minister of atomic energy.) He was empowered "to overrule the other members of the Commission, except the Member for Finance and Administration," who in financial matters could "ask" to be referred to the prime minister. The AEC was empowered "to frame its own rules and procedure" and to meet "at such times and places as may be fixed by the chairman." [2]

Under this government notification, which was issued from Bhabha's own office in Bombay, Bhabha secured total personal autonomy within the formal constitutional framework of the country. He had managed to free himself from all accountability except to the prime minister. Besides his position as chairman of the AEC and secretary of the Department of Atomic Energy, he remained the autonomous founder-director of the Tata Institute, which drew 99 percent of its funding from the budget of the Department of Atomic Energy. The institute grew at the rate of about 30 percent annually over the first 10 years, and about 15 percent a year over the second decade. But Bhabha made sure that government support did not entail bureaucratic control over his prolific activities. His ties with Nehru, who had become totally dependent on Bhabha for scientific advice, were friendly and close. Nehru's official biographer reports that Bhabha was one of only two men in the country at the time who could address Nehru as bhai, or brother. [3]

With his new mandate, Bhabha aggressively concentrated all big science research under his domain, the Department of Atomic Energy. Indian universities were denied funding for such research and were unable to purchase equipment or attract young scientists from abroad. Only Bhabha's department was authorized to initiate, explore, plan, and execute nuclear studies and research. The situation remains essentially unchanged today.

Bhabha believed that the problem of transforming an industrially underdeveloped country to a developed one could be solved by establishing big organizations. He did not perceive the significance of social forces in bringing about scientific and industrial transformation. His perceptions were directly borrowed from technologically advanced nations. A science policy resolution drafted by Bhabha in 1958, for which Nehru obtained parliament's approval by acclamation, rephrased some of the well-established truths:

"The key to national prosperity, apart from the spirit of the people, lies, in the modern age, in the effective combination of three factors: technology, raw materials and capital, of which the first is perhaps the most important, since the creation and adoption of new scientific techniques can, in fact, make up for a deficiency in natural resources, and reduce the demands on capital. But technology can only grow out of the study of science and its application.... It is an inherent obligation of a great country like India, with its great cultural heritage, to participate fully in the march of science, which is probably mankind's greatest enterprise today."

Questions of the appropriateness of technology never crossed Bhabha's mind. Ignoring economic principles and sociological imperatives, he advised the Nehru government to go for capital-intensive and energy-consuming nuclear technology. As a result, the country became even more dependent on external assistance.

The 1958 reconstitution of the AEC indicated another shift as well: the records suggest an increasing interest in the military applications of nuclear energy. Bhabha's role in this shift was decisive-he was able to convince Nehru of the diplomatic and strategic importance of nuclear energy. Although Nehru remained publicly committed to the peaceful use of the atom, Bhabha showed little enthusiasm for nuclear disarmament. He refused to be associated with the international scientific Pugwash movement for nuclear disarmament.

Bertrand Russell, recalling preparations for the antinuclear manifesto on which he collaborated with Albert Einstein, writes: "I had hoped that I might be supported in it by the Indian scientists and Government. At the beginning of Nehru's visit to London in February, 1955, my hope of it soared. Nehru himself had seemed most sympathetic. I lunched with him and talked with him at various meetings and receptions. He had been exceedingly friendly. But when I met Dr. Bhabha, India's leading official scientist, towards the end of Nehru's visit, I received a cold douche. He had profound doubts about any such manifesto, let alone any such conference as I had in mind for the future [Pugwash]. It became evident that I should receive no encouragement from Indian official scientific quarters." [4]



Today it is not one man but a handful of science and technology secretaries who make decisions on Indian science policy. Committees are constituted only to formally validate already approved plans and projects. Scholars who dare to dissent find doubts being cast on their credentials and credibility. [5] Such problems can be traced directly to the Bhabha legacy.

In 1962, Prof D.D. Kosambi was removed from the senior fellowship at the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research, for questioning high expenditures on atomic energy research and development. Kosambi made a brave but unsuccessful attempt to take up where Saha left off, trying to maintain an open and participatory system. It is difficult to find critics of Kosambi's stature in Indian science today. [6]

In 1970, however, a third conference was held to review Bhabha's 1958 science policy resolution. The conference was called by the national Committee of Science and Technology, under the chairmanship of B.D. Nag Chaudhuri, and included 130 scientists, technologists, and educators from different institutions and organizations. The conference concluded that the resolution was an "admirable enunciation of the government's faith in science and the role science must play in the transformation of our society." But it also felt strongly that "on several important counts, the implementation of the [resolution] has been highly ineffective. As a result, many of the objectives of the [resolution] have remained largely on paper."

A review committee on post-graduate education and research in engineering and technology, set up in 1978, again found the state of the country's education and research efforts highly unsatisfactory. Chaired by Prof. Y. Nayudamma, the committee observed that little was being done to implement recommendations of earlier review committees, that very little research and development was going on, and that scientific and technological endeavors failed to benefit Indian society. The committee concluded in 1980 that the capacity for generating and sustaining technological growth had to be strengthened considerably, since the number of people available for such enterprises was very small in relation to the country's high rate of population growth and corresponding social needs.

The Nayudamma committee questioned oft-repeated official claims that India is one of the 10 most industrialized nations of the world, with the third-largest number of scientific and technological personnel. If the scientific and technological content of a society is indicated by national investment, number of technically qualified personnel, facilities for education, and the amount of technical services available to citizens, the official claims to success cannot be sustained.

Unfortunately, the report was ignored because of its critical tone. Technocrats as a rule do not read reports of review committees, and political leaders are kept unaware of critical studies. It is customary for various ministries and departments to prepare voluminous studies projecting five-year science and technology plans for the future without evaluating past performance, except to refer to great strides made by the country.

The scientific bureaucracy, on the other hand, has flourished. From 1980 to 1989, the government inaugurated a number of ministerial-level departments in various fields of advanced science and technology in order to give the impression that rapid progress was being made [see table]. But these departments were established without carrying out basic need and feasibility studies related to industrial and economic demands. Instead of introducing these topics and fields into university or technical institute curriculums, national resources were diverted to build infrastructure and provide administrative machinery to "close the gap" in advanced fields of science and technology.

Without proper accountability in these organizations, inefficiency and corruption have gained the upper hand. In order to secure higher budgets and better perks, science and technology secretaries have fed the leadership inflated claims about successes and have promised increasingly populist projects which may or may not be based on proper studies.

Big science, especially atomic energy and space, has been used to boost the electoral image of the political leadership. This can be hazardous. For example, in 1974 Prime Minister Indira Gandhi announced the installation of a nuclear power plant at Narora, in Western Uttar Pradesh, despite critical reports by environmental experts. This was done to gain advantage over her political opponent, Charan Singh, on his home territory. In addition to being in a high-earthquake zone, Narora is in a predominantly agro-industrial sector which does not have the kind of constant high demand for power that justifies a nuclear plant.

Working scientists have little say in determining the direction of research, or in designing an independent project. Research grants, large or small, can be secured only through contacts with those who preside over science and technology departments. On the other hand, if someone knows someone who knows a minister or the chairman of the AEC, millions can be sanctioned without much ado, no matter how insignificant the research may be: the funds are granted first, and the scientific justification for them is worked out later. A minister's chance remark may be converted overnight into a research program, whereas a young scientist or a laboratory director cannot hope to initiate a research project.



The grandiose plans have produced few results. For many years science and technology activities have been aimed at "self-reliance," but the country has not achieved that goal in items of daily use, such as toothpaste and soap. No significant new designs or innovations in rural technology have been introduced. Towns and cities lack proper transport and regular supplies of water and electricity. Fewer than 1 percent of Indian scientists working in science and technology institutions come from the rural sector or underprivileged classes. Instead of addressing these problems, the tsars of Indian science have envisaged a "Science City," at an initial cost of 200 million rupees (roughly $25 million), to house visiting scientists from abroad. The AEC and the Department of Atomic Energy consume some 15-20 percent of the science and technology budget but have failed to produce even 2 percent of the country's electrical power.

This criticism of science policy is not to question Indian scientific and technological research per se, nor to object to funding new areas of research. On the contrary, technological advancement is crucial to India. And criticism must be directed less against specific projects than against the lack of democratic accountability inherent in the science policy system. The greatest tragedy is that those who should know best-the community of working scientists and independent university scientists-have been ignored.

To be sure, the priorities given to science and technology have been reflected in budgetary allocations-and these have been largely determined by international developments, as is true in any Third World country. During the early Cold War years, India's atomic energy program received as much as 41.2 percent of research and development funds (1958-59), although this percentage fell somewhat in the following decade. Defense sciences received strong backing during the 1970s when U.S. military activities increased in the Indian Ocean. In 1971, the Nixon administration ordered a U.S. naval task force, headed by the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier U.S.S. Enterprise into the Bay of Bengal, as India was engaged in the liberation of Bangladesh. The arrogant U.S. posture forced India to step up its nuclear activities, eventually leading to the Pokhran explosion in 1974. After the Vietnam War, the United States increased its military activities on the subcontinent, providing advanced military hardware to Pakistan and the Persian Gulf states. The United States increased its military presence in the Indian Ocean by stationing B-52s in Diego Garcia and increasing the number of nuclear submarines in the Indian backwaters.

The Gulf War has once again demonstrated the vulnerability of Third World countries when pitted against industrialized Western powers. The U.S. presence in Diego Garcia and its intervention against Iraq have made an antinuclear posture politically untenable in India. The war has left India-and Pakistan-with little apparent choice but to strengthen their commitment to high-tech systems for energy and weaponry. Unfortunately, any budgetary increase in war sciences will invariably lead to a further loss of funds for social welfare and education.