By Dhruva Jaishankar
The following article originally appeared in Contingent Magazine under the title “The Destroyer” on July 21, 2023. Excerpts are below, and the full text can be accessed here.
“Now I am become Death, destroyer of worlds.” Those words are regularly attributed to the charismatic and controversial nuclear scientist J. Robert Oppenheimer – the subject of a much-anticipated Christopher Nolan biopic being released this weekend – upon witnessing the world’s first nuclear test on July 16, 1945. The episode, however, is somewhat disputed; others present in the New Mexico desert that day do not recall him saying that. Oppenheimer himself recounted the following in a 1965 documentary, The Decision to Drop the Bomb:
We knew the world would not be the same. Few people laughed, few people cried, most people were silent. I remembered the line from the Hindu scripture the Bhagavad Gita. Vishnu is trying to persuade the prince [Arjuna] that he should do his duty, and to impress him takes on his multi-armed form and says, “Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.” I suppose we all thought that, one way or the other.1
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Given turbulence in his romantic life, his unorthodox political views, and what some of his colleagues described as neuroses, Oppenheimer found himself drawn to the Gita’s mysticism and romanticism. But he was equally inspired by its fatalism and call to action. The Bhagavad Gita describes a pivotal scene in the Hindu epic The Mahabharata, although it is often treated as a stand-alone text. The Mahabharata recounts a conflict between two branches of a family, with great warriors and coalitions arrayed on each side. The Bhagavad Gita, told in verse (ślokas), begins with the Pandava warrior prince, Arjuna, feeling doubt and remorse at having to face members of his family, his beloved teachers, and other well-wishers in battle. Lord Krishna, an avatar of the god Vishnu, who has assumed the role of his charioteer, dispenses advice to the prince of his duties and responsibilities, his dharma. For Oppenheimer, the idea of morality less as a question of black and white, but more of a personal struggle in a world largely outside of one’s control, was an appealing one.
In fact, the scientist’s interest in the Bhagavad Gita bordered on obsession, and was the subject of some amusement among his colleagues and acquaintances. He would hand out copies of the Gita to friends and even named a Chrysler automobile his father bought for him “Garuda,” after the mount of the god Vishnu.3 Oppenheimer’s personal copy of the Bhagavad Gita, translated by Ryder, is one of only two personal objects of his kept by the Los Alamos National Laboratory, where Oppenheimer was the first director, the other object being his office chair.4 The actor Cillian Murphy, who portrays Oppenheimer in the forthcoming film, says that he read the Gita in preparation for the role. “I thought it was an absolutely beautiful text, very inspiring” he said, assessing that “it was a consolation for [Oppenheimer], he kind of needed it…all his life.”5
Indeed, at difficult junctures in his life, Oppenheimer invoked lines from the Gita, either from Ryder’s translation or his own. Upon hearing of the death of President Franklin Roosevelt, he incorporated some lines from the Gita into his eulogy. Two days before the Trinity test, a nervous Oppenheimer shared a translation with Vannevar Bush, director of the U.S.’s Office of Scientific Research and Development: “In battle, in forest, at the precipice in the mountains, On the dark great sea, in the midst of javelins and arrows / In sleep, in confusion, in the depths of shame, the good deeds a man has done before defend him.”6 Another passage that Oppenheimer later recounted going through his head upon seeing the Trinity test: “If the radiance of a thousand suns were to burst at once into the sky, that would be like the splendor of the mighty one.”7
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Oppenheimer’s experience with ancient Indian philosophy was not unique among American or European scientists of his day. In fact, ancient Hindu scriptures inspired and mesmerized a number of great scientific minds in the United States and Western Europe. The inventor Nikola Tesla was intrigued by the relationship between matter and energy in ancient Indian texts and befriended Swami Vivekananda, the celebrated Hindu spiritual leader. The Danish physicist Niels Bohr was also fascinated by the interrogations of Indian philosophy, imbibed through the work of German Indologists such as Paul Deussen, which informed his larger worldview.10
Among the closest to Oppenheimer in terms of his deep and pervasive personal interest in Indian philosophical treatises was the Austrian physicist Erwin Schrödinger, of “Schrödinger’s cat” fame. His particular fascination lay with the Upanishads, among the foundational texts of classical Hinduism, having been introduced to them through the work of the 19th century German philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer. The Upanishads, Schrödinger felt, described the simultaneous singularity and multiplicity of the world – and the thorny questions of reality, consciousness, and perspective that they raise – in ways that were reflected in quantum physics.11 Some of the unusual features of quantum physics – superposition, entanglement, and interference – are central to ongoing innovations and applications in quantum computing.
Oppenheimer and Schrödinger’s deep interest in millennia-old Indian literature and philosophy was not just curious eccentricity on their parts. These unexpected intellectual endeavors helped them make sense of observable puzzles and ethical quandaries at the frontiers of science. Creativity has often been necessary to surmount seemingly impossible scientific obstacles: it took the invention of imaginary units (i) to reveal certain naturally occurring patterns in the real world. The same can be said for technological applications: Steve Jobs credited a college course in calligraphy for an aesthetic appreciation that drove Apple’s successes. As the academy moves towards the relentless promotion of STEM disciplines in an age of machine learning, automation, and augmented reality, Oppenheimer’s esoteric pursuit for truth in an ancient Indian poem is a reminder of the criticality of the liberal arts to the scientific temper.