Rare blend of intellect & humanness

The scheme I am now submitting to you is but an embryo from which I hope to build up in the course of time a school of physics comparable with the best anywhere. If Tatas would decide to sponsor an institute such as I propose through their Trusts, I am sure that they would be taking the initiative in a move which will be supported soon from many directions and be of lasting benefit to India.

—Letter to Sir Sorab Saklatvala, 12 March 1944

TESTING THE WATERS

Bhabha had first broached the topic about his institute with Tata chairman, J.R.D. Tata, with whom he shared a warm relationship. Tata, only five years his senior, was known to be receptive to new ideas. On 19 August 1943, Bhabha wrote to him saying that lack of proper conditions and intelligent financial support had hampered the development of science in India. He believed that those who chose a scientific career were not being given the necessary equipment, facilities and environment for conducting research. The administrative burden and teaching load did not leave them with enough time and energy for research. To make matters worse, the poor working conditions and financial prospects made the brightest opt for administrative or commercial careers.

In his letter, Bhabha pointed out that if Indian science was to progress, far greater financial support was needed for ‘pure’ or fundamental research, something that was unlikely to yield any immediate economic return. He gave the example of the USSR, which emphasized using science and technology for solving economic and social problems while strongly supporting fundamental research. He also suggested what P.C. Mahalanobis’s biographer, Ashok Rudra, called ‘brain irrigation’—the large-scale use of eminent foreign professors, even for short visits, which would improve scientific standards in the country and attract eminent scientists from all over India to work at the institute.

In his reply on 2 September 1943, J.R.D. admitted that there was scope for rendering valuable service to the cause of scientific research in India. He thought that if Bhabha put up a concrete proposal backed by a sound case, there was a very good chance that the Sir Dorabji Tata Trust, and, perhaps, the Sir Ratan Tata Trust, would respond. ‘After all, the advancement of science is one of the fundamental objects with which most of the Tata Trusts were founded, and they have already rendered much valuable help in a new way, I am quite sure that they will give it their most serious consideration.’

Bhabha was also friends with Rustum D. Choksi, a trustee of the Sir Dorabji Tata Trust, and his brother, Jehangir D. Choksi, the legal advisor to the Tatas, who were both ‘immersed in the ethos of liberal nationalism’. Their sister, Phiroza A. Wadia, a married lady who was popularly known as ‘Pipsy’, went on to become Bhabha’s companion and partner, and, as was commonly believed, a little more.

Rustum Choksi was a professor of Latin and English at Wilson College in Bombay when he succeeded Dr Clifford Manshardt as a trustee of the Sir Dorabji Tata Trust in 1941. He became the managing trustee in 1958 and served in that position till 1980. J.R.D. asked him to continue teaching so that he could remain in touch with the younger generation. An erudite, self-effacing man with considerable personal charm, he not only helped Bhabha shape his proposal but also gave him the lowdown on what the trustees were thinking. His patient persuasion played no small role in giving Bhabha what he wanted. As J.R.D. Tata said, it was he who set the tone and gave the leadership to the trust.

Rustum Choksi ‘epitomized an interesting, if paradoxical, hybridity in manner, speech and thinking that characterized a section of the nationalist elite of that period’. His student, the eminent economist, V.K.R.V. Rao, who later became education minister of India, recalled that Choksi was always dressed in a white khadi suit with a khadi tie that had an unusually large knot, and his clothes had an appearance of studied casualness that both thrilled and amused them. Rao said that he combined Byronic handsomeness without the Byronic gloom and said that he was greatly influenced by Choksi’s friendly disposition that put him at ease and succeeded in bringing out the best in his nature.

Choksi was also the chairman of the council of the IISc and ‘created an atmosphere of freedom in which viewpoints could be freely expressed. On the rare occasions when discussions tended to become acrimonious, the Professor would drop in a gentle word or a soothing phrase, and harmony would return’. He was opposed to the idea of the trust being reduced to a lending institution. Indeed, the trustees had always been concerned about the need to make a distinction between its grant-making activities committed to social development (‘constructive philanthropy’) and run-of-the-mill donations to alleviate distress. From the beginning, it was clear that the trust would not fritter away its energy and resources on many projects but focus on supporting the founding of a few institutions that individuals with foresight were unable to establish due to a paucity of resources.

Bhabha placed a formal proposal before Saklatvala after the matter had matured in careful discussion with Choksi who guided Bhabha on how to present his scheme to the trustees, offering advice on the style and tone of the proposal. On 17 February 1944, Choksi wrote to Bhabha asking him to submit a scheme to the trustees along with a personal letter to Saklatvala. He advised him to send the scheme as a draft, which Bhabha could finalize once he had received Saklatvala’s opinion. He also asked Bhabha to restrict the time frame of the grant to five years.

I would urge, keep the total of recurring expenditure at `42,000 per year. It will grow. You will, of course, enlarge as you think. Fit from the need for such research, point out Bombay’s backwardness, deep water experiments, and all else that’s cogent. Suggest you don’t name it, or call it an Institute for the present. Inst. sounds big to some…

Choksi informed Bhabha that he had sounded out the trustees and graded their response, like a school assignment.

Have seen bosses D, T, S and M in that order, 3rd and 4th [are] somewhat non-committal. Following algebraic symbols denote reaction in the same order—b+, a, c+, c. All the details you shall have later—perhaps in person. May suggest in your letter that you’d come to Bombay to unfold, explain to Sir S and co-trustees, if they wish.

D stood for Sir Ardeshir Dalal, the tall, well-groomed, disciplined, methodical, neat and precise ICS officer who, in 1928, became the first Indian to be appointed municipal commissioner of Bombay. A stern and sometimes forbidding presence, he joined the Tatas in 1931 and was made the director-in-charge of Tata Steel. He struck terror whenever he went to Jamshedpur. More feared than liked, he adopted a perpetually serious mien and ‘no humour ever escaped his lips and seldom did his cigar yield place to a smile’. Dalal was a highly competent man who was known for his earnestness, application and industry. Bhabha recalled having a quiet dinner with Dalal at the Great Eastern Hotel in Calcutta, telling Russi Mody that Dalal ‘discussed nuclear physics with me as if he was my equal.’ During the Second World War, Lord Wavell had invited Dalal to join as a member for post-war reconstruction and head the new planning and development department as a part of the Viceroy’s Executive Council.

T referred to J.R.D. Tata and M was Dr John Matthai, who was an economist by training and served as the minister for railways and transport in 1946 in the first cabinet. Later, Matthai became the finance minister, but he resigned in 1950 after differences with Nehru over the increasing power of the Planning Commission. Known for his unimpeachable integrity, ‘Honest John’ was a stickler for protocol and precedent. After resigning from government, he rejoined the Tatas as the director-in-charge of Tata Steel for the next seven years. He was also the first non-Parsi chairman of the Sir Dorabji Tata Trust. His nephew, Dr Verghese Kurien, is generally recognized as the architect of India’s White Revolution and was the founder of the Institute of Rural Management Anand.

(Excerpted with permission from Bakhtiar K Dadabhoy’s ‘Homi J. Bhabha’; published by Rupa Publications)