Pauling’s Disengagement from the Guggenheim Foundation

The Paulings in India, 1955

[Pauling and the Guggenheim Foundation]

In 1950, the Indian government invited Linus Pauling to spend six weeks visiting and lecturing at several of the country’s top universities and research institutions. Pauling and Ava Helen were planning to use the invitation as an opportunity to take a trip around the world during December and January, a circumstance that would seem to preclude Pauling’s service for the year on the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation Committee of Selection.

Pauling still wanted to find a way though, and left open the possibility of his participation as he worked to finalize his plans. If Henry Allen Moe, the Foundation’s Secretary, would still have him on the Committee, Pauling wanted the applicant digests to be sent to him in India. To maintain confidentiality and avoid having to carry them around with him afterwards, Pauling would make his notes and then destroy the digests. An extra copy could then be sent to Pasadena, awaiting Pauling’s return.

Moe did not think it a good idea for Pauling to go to India and be on the Committee of Selection, because it would be too much to coordinate. Though recognizing that the India trip was a wonderful opportunity, he also held out hope that Pauling would stay put and continue to serve on the Committee.

As he thought about it some more, Pauling agreed that, were he to make the trip to the subcontinent, it would be best that he not serve on the Committee due to all of the possible mishaps that could arise. At the same time, he was also beginning to have doubts about going, in part because he would miss the opportunity of growing some proteins – presumably for research – in his garden. And while his curiosity about scientific life in India was overriding this desire to garden, Pauling’s delicate health would soon intervene.

As the Paulings delved deeper into the planning for their Indian adventure, Linus came down with the flu and several colds. In the midst of this run of illness, Pauling’s doctor, Richard W. Lippman, recommended that his patient not get the shots necessary for the trip, while also recommending that he not go unless he had the shots. In the end, Pauling decided not risk it and stayed home, but Moe still thought it best for him to not participate on the Committee that year because of his health.

That said, Moe was not shy about soliciting Pauling’s opinion on as many Committee-related topics as he could handle, resulting in one of the duo’s most intense periods of correspondence since Pauling first began serving on the Committee. In particular, Moe badly wanted to send Pauling all of the year’s physics applications because of suspected poor judgment from another adviser, but he managed to hold back.

Even though Pauling was not at the annual meeting, the Committee was grateful for his comments and he was still identified as a member in that year’s announcement of Fellows. That notice, however, would mark Pauling’s final participation on the Committee, though he continued to serve on the Foundation’s Fellowship Advisory Board.

This transition coincided with Pauling and Moe’s disagreement over aspects of the Foundation’s response to the House of Representatives Select Committee to Investigate Tax-Exempt Foundations and Comparable Organizations, also known as the Cox Committee. As noted in our previous post in this series, after Pauling supplied his criticisms of the response, Moe retorted with a lengthy justification that questioned Pauling’s judgments on social issues. Pauling did not respond to Moe’s criticisms, but continued to carry out his duties as a member of the Advisory Board.

Excerpt from Moe’s letter to Pauling of June 3, 1954

Following the Cox Committee dispute – and quite unlike the previous year – Pauling and Moe’s correspondence slowed to a trickle and was dotted with signs that their relationship had become strained. Much of their exchange focused on Pauling’s succinct comments on chemistry applicants, though mention is made of Pauling’s attempt to call Moe to provide feedback more efficiently. (Moe was not available to receive the call.) Later, Pauling delayed responding to Moe on a question concerning the conditions of one fellowship, because he agreed with what Moe had decided and did not think a response was necessary.

Some of the tension appeared to begin lifting in June when Moe asked Pauling for input on an applicant, and also relayed that he and his wife Edith were going to England. Pauling responded that he was happy that they were making the trip, but there was little in the way of follow-up. That fall, Moe informed Pauling that his son had returned from his military tour in Asia, was beginning graduate school at the University of North Carolina, and had become a father. The relationship seemed to be in a period of thaw.

Perhaps feeling comfortable again, Pauling decided to reiterate concerns that he harbored about the low stipends attached to Guggenheim Fellowships; concerns he had first broached while Moe was working on the Cox Committee response. Prefaced with a hope that Moe would not mind him bringing up the topic again, Pauling commenced to relay the story of A. H. Livermore, a faculty member at Reed College in Portland, Oregon.

Livermore had received a Fellowship to study Molecular and Cellular Biology and had planned to use these funds in conjunction with a Fulbright award to study in England. As it happened, Livermore’s Fulbright application was unsuccessful, thus rendering the trip impossible for him to make with the accompaniment of his family. Pauling felt that the Foundation should pay enough so that a whole family could make the trip and not place any burden on the Fellow.

Moe responded by informing Pauling that Livermore had already planned on deferring his Fellowship and reapplying for a Fulbright the following year. And while he appreciated Pauling’s suggestions on the fellowship amounts, he believed them to be financially unrealistic. Personally, Moe thought that funds would be better split between two equal scholars rather than awarding a larger amount to only one of them. He also thought that it was valid for Fellows to have to invest some of their own money into their work or, if they had none, to find a way of getting some.

Moe’s point of view though, was slipping into the minority. Two years later, in 1956, the Foundation appeared to assimilate Pauling’s opinion – which Committee of Selection Chairman Louis B. Wright also held – and changed the wording of its call for applicants to state that awards would no longer adhere to a firm $3,000, but instead be adjusted to meet a Fellow’s needs.

After this more recent disagreement, Pauling and Moe’s relationship appears to have cooled again, but Pauling’s successful trip to India at the end of 1954 and beginning of 1955 seemed to snap them out of it. Notably, Moe was the first person to whom Pauling wrote upon his return to the U.S. Pauling used this letter to tell the story of his trip, but also to express concern that Moe was working too hard and that he look into hiring another assistant. Moe replied that he had been on the lookout for one and that he hoped to hear a fuller account of Pauling’s travels the next time the two saw each other in person.

The following year, Moe was invited to deliver the commencement address at the California Institute of Technology’s graduation ceremony. Eager to see his old friend, Moe expressed disappointment when he found out that Pauling would be in Rome during that time.

After returning to New York, Moe wrote that the trip had reminded him of the last time he had been in southern California and, in particular, his conversation with Pauling about the lack of water emerging as a limiting factor for additional development of the area. At the time, Pauling told Moe that he was not too concerned since he assumed that, at some point, fresh water could be made from sea water, possibly by using nuclear power. Moe was curious to know if Pauling thought that desalination had become a more feasible option since then.

Pauling responded that he had not kept up with research on the subject, but he believed that experiments related to ionic transfer through thin exchange resin barriers might prove promising. He also noted that the Von Kleinschmidt method of distillation by compression had been used in Boston, but at five cents per ton, it was still more costly than freshwater. A few days later, Pauling wrote again to say that he had been hearing good things about Moe’s speech and was glad that he had suggested him as the speaker. Moe suspected Pauling had been behind the invitation and was pleased to hear that he approved.

Several years later, Moe agreed to serve as a character witness for Pauling in his 1963 suit against the New York Daily News. Pauling, however, left Moe wondering for several months about what was happening in the case. When he finally wrote to thank Moe for testifying, Pauling explained that, according to his attorney, that they done too good of a job in making their case for Pauling’s character. Towards the end of the trial, Pauling wrote, the jury agreed that the paper had committed slander, but they did not think it had succeeded in damaging Pauling’s reputation. The jury then asked the judge for clarification on whether they could still find the paper guilty. The judge told them that they could not and so they found in favor of the paper.

With his background in law, Moe had suspected a turn of events along these lines and committed to testifying again if needed. But when solicited once more, this time for a suit against the St. Louis Globe-Democrat, Moe had to decline since he was too busy. Because Pauling’s attorney thought Moe a very important witness, Pauling made one final pitch, hoping that Moe might fly in and out in a single day. Moe still could not do it.

That year was also Moe’s last at the Guggenheim Foundation. He had begun his tenure as President of the American Philosophical Society four years prior and he stayed in the position until 1970. During this time, contacts between Moe and Pauling further diminished, though their occasional exchanges were friendly in tone. Moe died in 1975 at the age of 81.

A Global Friendship


Asima Chatterjee (front row, third from right) with her students and the Paulings, February 1967. Credit: Indian Academy of Sciences

[An examination of Linus and Ava Helen Pauling’s relationship with the influential Indian chemist, Asima Chatterjee. Part 2 of 2.]

Asima Chatterjee’s one and only meeting with Linus and Ava Helen Pauling took place during the Paulings’ tour of India, which spanned the months of January and February 1967. During the final leg of this trip, for a mere sixteen hours, the Paulings landed in Kolkata, toured the University, saw Chatterjee’s labs, and met her students. From there the Paulings departed India en route to Honolulu, where they planned to spend a few days visiting with their son, Linus Jr. Before leaving however, the Paulings gave a sum of money to Chatterjee that they later requested she spend on a wedding gift from them for her daughter. Though a small token, this gift was surely an indication of the esteem that the Paulings felt for their friend and fellow scientist.

While 1967 began on a high note for Chatterjee, the year ultimately proved to be profoundly difficult. In the months following the Paulings’ departure, Chatterjee lost both her husband and her father. Congruent with these personal tragedies, the political environment in Chatterjee’s home region of West Bengal, and particularly in Kolkata, began to deteriorate as a radical communist group, the Naxalites, began to gain influence in the area.

While the details of Chatterjee’s personal heartache, as well as India’s mounting regional strife, were communicated in her letters to the Paulings, one is also able to intuit a degree of solace being found in correspondence. In particular, Chatterjee was keen to point out Linus Pauling’s sweeping geniality and friendship, commenting that “we all admire his enthusiasm and unlimited energy. He is so dynamic! We wonder where he gains this energy.”

Though first and foremost a scientist, Asima Chatterjee’s concerns for her home country’s well-being echoed similar frustrations being felt by her stateside correspondents. While the Paulings were focused primarily on global problems of the nuclear age, in India the worries were more acute. In particular, the need to navigate and correct a wide array of political, social and economic dysfunctions left behind by the colonial era proved to be a momentous and primary challenge.

The strains of adjusting to a new era of independence that were felt nation-wide also impacted Chatterjee in a multitude of ways. Professionally, many students at her university abandoned their studies to join the Naxalites in protest. As these demonstrations grew in intensity, splinter groups resorted to attacks on Kolkata’s infrastructure that resulted in damage to the city’s power grid.

During this period of tumult, Chatterjee’s concern for the fortunes of her students, her daughter and, indeed, her country were evident in her communications with Ava Helen. In their letters, the two women discussed a number of social issues, including student unrest around the world, Kolkata’s seemingly intractable troubles, and the escalation of violence in Vietnam. In a 1971 letter, Ava Helen expressed her sympathy for Chatterjee’s plight. “The world gets no better and we have been full of sorrow and anxiety for India the past year,” she wrote. “It is so dreadful that the world refuses to try another method.”

Replying a few weeks later – during the final months of a genocidal campaign that resulted in the deaths of between 300,000 and 3 million people in present-day Bangladesh – Chatterjee expressed growing dismay about the state of affairs on the subcontinent.

Air raid sirens and black outs are frequent occurrences in the city. The number of refugees in India is beyond imagination… It is not possible for India to look after those millions of refugees permanently.

Though she could not have known the final tally at that time, statistics now show that some 10 million refugees fled Bangladesh for India in 1971.


Asima Chatterjee (at center in white sari) with some of her students, 1997. Credit: Indian Academy of Science.

Chatterjee also noted that academic rigor at the University of Calcutta had diminished, suggesting that “the University has been converted into a machine for turning out [hundreds] of graduates every year.”

And yet, in spite of it all, Chatterjee remained very productive. By 1961 she had published 105 peer-reviewed papers and, in 1972, she was selected to be the honorary Programme Coordinator at the Centre for Advanced Studies in Chemistry of Natural Products. Three years later, she became the first woman to be elected as General President of the Indian Science Congress Association.

In 1982, after retiring from her duties as a professor, Chatterjee received a very different kind of honor when she was selected to a seat in the Raiya Sabha. A component of India’s parliament, the Raiya Sabha consists of twelve nationals who, in the estimation of the President, have made a profound impact on their fields. Chatterjee served in this is position until 1990. She died sixteen years later, on November 22, 2006, and is survived by her daughter Julie Banerji, a professor in the Department of Chemistry at the University of Calcutta.

The global friendship shared by Linus Pauling, Ava Helen Pauling and Asima Chatterjee was certainly unorthodox — in person, the relationship consisted entirely of a single, half-day meeting. Through the power of the pen however, the Paulings and Chatterjee cemented and grew their fondness for one another, regularly exchanging holiday greetings and carrying out various professional favors. Today, their bond stands as evidence in support of the imperative that knowledge flow freely across social and geographic boundaries. Their story also serves as an example of the ways in which science and concerns for humanity are so often intertwined.

Asima Chatterjee


[Ed note: A Google Doodle published in September 2017 featured a name familiar to us — the groundbreaking Indian scientist Asima Chatterjee — and prompted us to investigate her story a bit more. Today’s post is the first of two reflecting on Chatterjee’s work and her long friendship with Linus and Ava Helen Pauling.]

It is easy to lapse into cliche when discussing female scientists of the 20th century. On the one hand, it is certainly true that women of that era, by obtaining their Ph.Ds. and rising through the ranks of academia, paved new paths for those to come by pushing through environments that were often hostile to their presence. Beyond this however, it is also crucial to acknowledge the multifaceted contributions that these women made to their scientific disciplines and to celebrate the ways in which their work made a profound impact outside of the context of gender relations.

Asima Chatterjee, born in Kolkata (previously Calcutta) in 1917, is a terrific example of a pioneering woman scientist whose impact has been felt in many ways and on many levels. Chatterjee, a brilliant and passionate scholar, was the first woman to obtain a Doctorate of Science from an Indian university; just one in a succession of accomplishments. In so doing, she both smashed cultural expectations and demonstrated the ways in which sexism is detrimental to society as a whole.

The importance of a woman’s perspective – in particular, the capacity for empathy so often engendered by the roles, expectations and cultural norms traditionally assigned to women – is a quality that Linus Pauling revered. The strongest piece of evidence that one might put forth in support of this argument was the genuine respect and affection that characterized his long relationship with his wife, Ava Helen Pauling. By her husband’s own admission, Ava Helen was crucial in building and maintaining the compassion, selflessness, concern and, indeed, courage that were fundamental to Linus Pauling’s peace work, which was honored by the Nobel Peace Prize committee in 1963.

It is unsurprising then, that the friendship which flourished between Asima Chatterjee and the Paulings was steeped not only in mutual scientific interests, but also in a shared concern for social welfare. In fact, the two were not discrete nodes of their relationship: the desire for a more equitable and peaceful world was tethered to their mutual passion for science and, ultimately, became a central reference point in the constellation of their friendship.


The Paulings’ relationship with Asima Chatterjee likely found its start during Chatterjee’s stint as a fellow at the California Institute of Technology, though not in a typical way. In the years following the completion of her doctorate in 1944, Chatterjee and her one-year-old daughter, Julie, traveled abroad for a series of fixed-term research appointments, including a position at Caltech. While in Pasadena, Chatterjee studied carotenoids under Laszlo Zechmeister, a Hungarian scientist who had been hired by Pauling. Presumably because of his connection to Zechmeister, it seems clear that Pauling knew of Chatterjee’s visit, even though he was in England at the time, serving a year-long term at Oxford as Eastman Professor.

What is certain is that the Paulings’ and Chatterjee’s friendship was almost entirely facilitated through letters, dozens of them, penned over the course of nearly two decades. In their lengthy correspondence, Chatterjee and the Paulings touched upon a wide variety of topics ranging from professional favors to the shifting fortunes of India to the various exploits and undertakings of their children. Not until 1967, in Calcutta, did the correspondents finally meet face-to-face.

Chatterjee’s research focused primarily on natural products and phytochemistry, and placed prominent emphasis on the potential medicinal properties of the substances under study. Fascinated with botany early in childhood and, as a professional, inclined towards investigations in organic chemistry – the subject in which she received her doctorate – Chatterjee’s passions aligned in such a way as to enable in-depth studies of the structures and properties of plants native to India. One of Chatterjee’s especially prominent achievements emerged from her research on vinca alkaloids, used today for chemotherapeutic treatments. Chatterjee’s program of work made similarly important contributions to the attack on malaria and epilepsy.

However, despite her obvious promise as a scientist, Chatterjee’s research program was regularly hamstrung by funding problems. India achieved independence from the United Kingdom in 1947 (around the time of Chatterjee’s U.S. fellowship tour) and, as a recently sovereign nation, had a great deal to figure out both politically and economically. Working within this climate, Chatterjee routinely experienced difficulty in acquiring the basic resources and supplies necessary to conduct her research. This reality made her international connections, at Caltech in particular, a lifeline for the progress of her work.

One example of this somewhat unorthodox international collaboration was documented in a March 1953 letter. In it, Chatterjee asked Pauling to provide a degree of technical support with an alkaloid, Rauwolscine, that she would later become well-known for studying. In particular, Chatterjee needed Pauling’s assistance with a form of x-ray analysis that was not beyond her level of expertise, but instead was inaccessible to her for lack of technical infrastructure. While in this insistence Pauling decided against heeding Chatterjee’s request – citing various stipulations of institutional policy – other letters provide numerous examples where he and his colleagues were able to aid in her work.

Asima Chatterjee’s tenacious nature and focused dedication to her field were formally recognized by her peers in 1961, when she became the first woman to be awarded the Shanti Swarup Bhatnagar Prize. (An extremely prestigious honor for Indian scientists, this award has, to date, been bestowed to sixteen female recipients in total.) In next week’s post, we will examine the ways in which Chatterjee’s work, as well as her relationship with the Paulings, continued to flourish throughout the 1960s and beyond.


An Interview with Zia Mian

Dr. Zia Mian, who will be traveling to Oregon in April to accept the 2014 Linus Pauling Legacy Award, was kind enough to give us a bit of his time not long ago for an interview.  In it he discussed a whole range of topics including the development of his socio-political consciousness, his admiration for Pauling and his thoughts on healing old wounds in South Asia.  The transcript of our conversation is presented below.

For a more technical perspective on Mian’s thinking with particular respect to the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty, see the embedded video above.  An excellent profile of Mian, published by his home institution, Princeton University, is likewise available here.

Pauling Blog: You studied physics in graduate school. Were you already interested in socio-political issues? Or did you experience an awakening of sorts, as happened to Pauling with Hiroshima and Nagasaki?

Zia Mian: I’m of a generation of people that were growing up during the period of the late 1970s and the early 1980s, what has come to be called the Second Cold War, where President Reagan and the United States, and I believe it was Western Europe, moved new nuclear missiles into Western Europe as a response to new Soviet missiles that had been developed. And so there was a great risk of nuclear war again and peace movements across Europe and in the United States became very active. We had some of the largest demonstrations by these groups that had ever been seen in New York and London and other cities. And the presence of such a large and determined and active social movement raises questions for all kinds of people, such as “what do I think about this issue? What does this mean? How does this impact society and what is my role in what’s going on?”

And so as a young physics student it became obvious that nuclear weapons were something that I had to think about and to try and understand what I thought about them and what they might mean. And so as a consequence I think that it wasn’t so much like a calling of having a Hiroshima or Nagasaki type moment, but the existence of a large and determined peace movement raising the issue to people across the world, that this is an issue you have to take seriously and come to a position on. That led me to think about what nuclear weapons meant and how I felt about them.

PB: With Pauling and several other scientists at the beginning of the nuclear age, they could understand the science behind nuclear weapons as well, and that seemed to lend itself toward their activism, in the sense that they could understand how they worked and the amounts of energy they could release. Did that play in for you as well?

ZM: At the beginning of the nuclear age certainly many scientists, including ones who had worked on the Manhattan Project, realized that the public and policy makers needed to understand the new dangers that nuclear weapons and nuclear materials posed to the world. And having a technical background made it easier to understand some of the things that nuclear weapons mean, without having to know secrets. Because the science was sufficiently clear that you could make this understanding of what was going on. What you have to remember is that lots of other people came to a similar understanding about nuclear dangers without being scientists. One thinks of Mahatma Gandhi writing about the danger of nuclear weapons soon after Hiroshima and Nagasaki, or the French writer and philosopher Albert Camus or the English writer George Orwell or the American writer Lewis Mumford. All of them, within months or the first year or so after Hiroshima, tried to explain to people that these nuclear weapons posed a profound and unimaginable new danger, without being scientists themselves.

But the scientists—being experts gives you a somewhat privileged position to debate, because people have a tendency to look to scientists as being people who can understand and explain some of the more detailed factual and technical basis of what nuclear weapons and their production and use mean, rather than just talking about the politics of what nuclear weapons mean or the ethics and morality of what nuclear weapons mean. But I can’t emphasize strongly enough that many of the early scientists like Pauling and others, as well as writers like Mumford and Bertrand Russell and Albert Camus and George Orwell who wrote about nuclear weapons, combined both a technical understanding and a political understanding and a moral and ethical sensibility about what these weapons would mean. And it was only by taking them all together that one can see what kind of intervention they made in helping people understand the nuclear danger.

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A Return to India, 1967

The audience assembled for one of Linus Pauling's two Azad Memorial Lectures, New Delhi, February 1967.

During the process of production of a fertilized ovum, half of the set of genes of the father and half of the set of genes of the mother, selected by a process that involves randomness, are passed on to the child.  Every child is a reincarnation, not a complete reincarnation of any one individual but a reincarnation of many people who preceded him in life and have passed some of their molecules of deoxyribonucleic acid on to him.

-Linus Pauling, Azad Lectures, February 1967.

Linus Pauling was invited to visit India again in the late 1960s, in large part due to his relationship with G. N. Ramachandran, a physical chemist at the University of Madras. Ramachandran had begun corresponding with Pauling several years before when, as a newly minted post-doc, he was seeking employment in Pauling’s lab. At the time Pauling couldn’t give him a job, but he was interested in Ramachandran’s crystallography research. In the mid-1950s, Pauling was trying to determine the structure of collagen and incorrectly theorized that its molecular structure was a three-helix cable. Ramachandran eventually correctly identified the structure as a triple helix.  Some years later, Ramachandran extended to Pauling the invitation of a visiting professorship at his institution, and Pauling eventually accepted, leading to the Paulings’ 1967 return trip to the subcontinent.

Word of Pauling’s visit quickly spread through the Indian scientific community and many more invitations came pouring in. Linus received such a large volume that he had to turn many of them down; especially those extended by smaller institutions and certain locations that he had visited during his 1955 trip. Once most of the dust had settled, Ramachandran was placed in charge of piecing together the Paulings’ itinerary.

Linus and Ava Helen arrived in Madras in January 1967 for a six week stay that would include visits to cities all over India – Madras, Bangalore, Delhi, Kerala, and Hyderabad were all on the schedule – as well as a stop in Sri Lanka. Though excursions to scientific institutions and meetings with important leaders – including Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, the country’s second President – dominated the Paulings’ stay, time was once again set aside for seeing the sights.  After the conclusion of the trip, Pauling noted an encounter with a pack of 35 wild elephants as one particular highlight of the journey.

As part of his Madras professorship, Pauling began his visit by delivering a series of three lectures on molecular structure theory; a three-part lecture on nuclear structure would follow the next month. He likewise presented other technical lectures at Kerala University, the Ceylon Association for the Advancement of Science (in Sri Lanka), and the Indian Institute of Medical Science, and gave other more popular talks titled “Molecular Disease and Evolution” and “Molecular Structure in Relation to Medicine.”

Linus Pauling being introduced by Foreign Minister M. C. Chagla, Azad Lectures, February 1967.

Pauling also had the opportunity to speak about another subject about which he was passionate: peace. In preparation for these lectures, Pauling conducted extensive research on India’s socioeconomic situation, poring over government statistics and scribbling calculations in his notebooks.

Much of this research was compiled into Pauling’s two-part delivery of the Azad Memorial Lectures: “Science and Peace” and “The Future of the World.” The lectures were a high-point of the trip, and an internationally notable event – the U.S. Supreme Court even requested a copy of the speeches for its library.

In his Azad speeches, Pauling expounded upon Albert Schweitzer’s principal of the minimization of human suffering and tied all of his points into the current situation in India. Through his research, Pauling discerned that the average real income of an individual Indian had actually decreased since independence due to inflation, which ran to ten percent per year beginning in 1962.  From there he concluded that the rate of inflation was largely due to big increases in military expenditures, writing

In the year 1963 the military budget of India was more than doubled, so that it reached the amount 4.7 percent of the national income, which was 340,000 million Rupees; that is, the military budget reached the amount of 16,000 million Rupees in 1963.  This sum of money, the military budget, is just equal to the decrease in the purchasing power of the income of the people of India that has been caused for the average year since 1962 by inflation of the Rupee.  This comparison indicates that the purchasing power of the people’s income would not have decreased if these great expenditures for militarism had not taken place.

Pauling also noted that the nation was likewise manufacturing weapons-grade plutonium and had the ability to fabricate an atomic bomb within only twelve months.

Much of this increase in militarism was a response to increased hostilities with India’s western neighbor, Pakistan, to whom the United States had recently donated several million dollars worth of military equipment. Pauling was very up front in voicing his disapproval of American foreign policy, pointing out in particular the hypocrisy of President Lyndon Johnson’s claims to be in favor of peace while refusing to recognize the National Liberation Front of South Vietnam, “despite his stated willingness to meet with any government to discuss a cease-fire and a negotiated peace in Vietnam.” Nor did Pauling buy into American rhetoric that war now prevented greater suffering in the future. Rather, in his view

Militarism is the cause of human suffering in two ways: directly, through the savagery of war itself, and indirectly, through the waste of the resources of the world, and the consequent increase in suffering caused by poverty and disease.

In his analysis of his host nation, Pauling also looked at birth and death rates: the population of India was soaring and Pauling couldn’t help but think that many of the nation’s problems could be solved or lessened if the growth rate was brought down to that of developed countries. India already had birth control programs in place in 1967, but Pauling surmised that an increase in this budget line item would be helpful, especially in promoting sterilization as an effective option.

At the end of the lectureship, External Affairs Minister M. C. Chagla, who had been presiding, delivered his own commentary on Pauling’s remarks. He disagreed that the quality of life in India was on a downward slope, countering that statistics could be manipulated for anything. He also defended the government’s increase in military expenses, saying that it was necessary with the rising threat of two hostile neighbors. He did, however, receive cheers for announcing that India would never manufacture nuclear weapons despite its ability to do so. (In actual fact, India tested its first nuclear weapon, “The Smiling Buddha,” in May 1974.)

While in Delhi delivering the Azad lectures, Pauling received an honorary Doctor of Science degree from Delhi University. And not long after they were delivered, the Indian Council for Cultural Relations published the talks as a 73-page book.

For her part, Ava Helen took the opportunity of the 1967 trip to learn about the issues that Indian women were facing. Amidst her travels, Ava Helen gave at least one lecture to a women’s organization and also attended a seminar on “Small Family,” which covered topics such as methods of controlling family size, family planning education and the role of voluntary agencies in family planning. For three days in February she also visited women’s institutions around Madras with the Director of Women’s Welfare, touring government sponsored homes established for orphaned girls, young widows and destitute women. The institutions featured secretarial classes as well as instruction in needlework, doll-making and weaving. When she returned home to California, Ava Helen spoke of these experiences to the Santa Barbara County chapter of Women for Peace.

Ava Helen also kept in contact with Dr. Asima Chatterjee, a prominent Indian chemist and the first woman to receive a Doctorate of Science from an Indian university. For several years prior to the trip, Linus had been corresponding with Chatterjee about various research matters, but neither Pauling had met Chatterjee in person until the 1967 visit. Their friendship blossomed during the Pauling’s tour and before departing the Paulings left a sum of money with Dr. Chatterjee that they later requested she spend on a wedding gift from them for her daughter.

In later years, the Paulings and Chatterjee regularly exchanged Christmas cards and notes about the goings-on of their respective families. Chatterjee likewise wrote of the ever-shifting political climate in India. In 1971 circumstances had taken a turn for the worse when civil war broke out in Pakistan and India was flooded with refugees. Ava Helen wrote that she was full of sorrow and anxiety for India. Chatterjee described the atmosphere as tense – at the time of her writing there existed a “deep lull” and sense of unease at not knowing know when the storm would break. The second major war between India and Pakistan would begin and end in December of that year.

The Paulings with three unidentified individuals, India, 1967.

The 1967 trip marked the Paulings’ last trip to the subcontinent.  While Linus is listed a speaker on a program for the One Asia assembly in Delhi in 1973, he did not actually attend this event – according to his notes he spent that day in California taking Ava Helen to see an optician. The conference was orchestrated by the Press Foundation of Asia, with the goal of discussing the failure of Asian countries to bring about significant change in the welfare of their people. Although the last time Pauling would set foot in India was in 1967, his apparent later willingness to participate in this event is evidence that he continued to keep up with its happenings.

In June 1975 an internal state of emergency was declared in India; a controversial new party had come into power and found a way to suspend civil liberties and democracy under the constitution. Thousands of critics of the government were arrested without charge. Pauling was one of eighty prominent Americans to sign a joint appeal expressing alarm at repression in India and calling for the restoration of human rights. Pauling found this event especially distressing because democracy was established in India after a long battle for freedom – a battle led by some of the century’s greatest exponents of human rights. His cooperation with the petition effort is the final major piece of evidence of his long-running interest in Indian politics and society. The country’s so-called “Emergency Era” came to an end in 1977 when a new party gained control of the world’s largest democracy.

The Paulings in India, 1955

Linus Pauling first made tentative plans to travel to India in 1951, but when he fell ill the proposed trip was called off. Pauling’s next attempt to visit the subcontinent was marked by a long struggle with the United States government to obtain a passport. The Indian Science Congress had invited him to partake in its annual conference in 1954 and Pauling accepted the invitation. However, as we’ve discussed before, his own government did not grant Pauling permission to travel until weeks after the event occurred.

Months after the initial disappointment of not being able to attend the conference Pauling, having finally regained his right to travel overseas, wrote to the association asking for the invitation to be renewed. In response the group happily extended an offer for him to visit the following year, 1955, for the next Indian Science Congress in Baroda, even providing a stipend to help pay for his travel expenses.

Their circumstances finally settled, Linus and Ava Helen made their way eastward for a world tour, with a stop in India sandwiched between a stay in Israel and a trip to Japan.  While stationed in India from January through mid-February, the Paulings spent much of their time visiting scientific institutions and meeting with prominent academics and politicians. They made it to cities all over the country: beginning in Ahmedabad, they traveled to Baroda, then Bombay, Hyderabad, Bangalore, Poona, New Delhi, Lucknow, Benares (Varanasi), Allahabad and Calcutta.

Amidst all of the meetings though, the couple still scheduled plenty of time to take in the sights and experience Indian culture; attending folk dances, visiting tombs and temples, and watching the sun rise over the Taj Mahal. The Paulings likewise marveled at Buddhist murals in the Ajanta caves and explored the Elephanta and Eldora caves as well.

Major cities (marked in red) visited by the Paulings during their 1955 trip to India.

After arriving in Ahmedabad on January 2, one of Pauling’s first orders of business was, at last, attending the Indian Science Congress in Baroda, which began on January 3. Pauling, who spoke on hemoglobin and sickle-cell anemia, was the only American invited to address the full Congress. In his interactions with the Indian scientists, Pauling made a point of dispelling certain prevailing misconceptions about Americans, such as the notion that all U. S. scientists were working on developing bombs. Pauling pointed out that the number of scientists devoted to such projects was a far cry from the majority, and that many were working instead on important advancements in areas such as medicine.

In the wake of his successful participation in the Ahmedabad conference, Pauling’s itinerary quickly became crammed full of visits to laboratories, institutes, and universities – the University of Bombay, Delhi University, and Osmania University among them.  At times he was delivering two lectures a day. He mostly delivered the same lecture, a variation on his Nobel address “Modern Structural Chemistry,”  but also made spoke on current research in metals, ferromagnetism and proteins.

Pauling likewise visited the Indian Cancer Research Center to talk about antibodies and met with V. R. Khanolkar, widely recognized as a pathbreaking figure in the fields of pathology and medical research in India. Stops were also made at both the National Chemical Laboratory in Poona and the National Physical Laboratory. At a press conference in Allahabad, where the Indian National Academy of Sciences was located, Pauling proposed a resourceful method to approach nuclear disarmament that would utilize the energy stored in weapons. He also urged that India spend more money on scientific research.

On one notable occasion, the Paulings were able to get away from the scientific barnstorm in favor of a jeep ride to a rural village where the locals were building a school. Ava Helen was given the honor of laying the cornerstone for the first educational facility ever erected in the village. The villagers had also just finished constructing their first town meeting place. Linus was impressed by the rapid improvements in the country’s technology as well as the enthusiasm with which its people seemed to be adopting changes. The Indian government as well as private organizations – in particular the Ford Foundation, a U.S. organization – were funding improvement projects all throughout rural India, and the villagers that the Paulings encountered were notably appreciative of these contributions.

Another major highlight of the trip was the opportunity to dine with Jawaharlal Nehru, Prime Minister of India, who had been a leader in the Indian independence movement and a protégé of Mahatma Gandhi. In a series of notes that he compiled recounting his time abroad, Pauling had great things to say about Nehru, writing

He gave me the impression of having great mental powers, excellent judgment, and complete sincerity. In my opinion Nehru is one of the greatest men in the world, and I think the future historians may well give him a major share of the credit for avoiding a third world war.

Prior to meeting him, the Paulings had listened to Nehru give a few speeches and had come away favorably impressed by his description of India’s approach to peace as “a positive, constructive approach, not a passive, negative, natural approach.” This perspective, they felt, had contributed to stable relations with Britain after Indian independence, and also with France after India took control of Pondicherry, formerly a French colony. Nehru was also a fan of the Paulings and, in the last letter that he wrote to his Council of Scientific and Industrial Research – composed days before his death in 1964 – asked that they be invited to visit again and give lectures .

As the Cold War dragged on, Pauling had become not just an important scientific figure but a political one as well, earning the Nobel Peace Prize in 1963. He had earned the Gandhi Peace Award one year prior.

In 1964 nuclear disarmament was a pressing issue. After Nehru’s death that year, Pauling wrote an article titled “The Contribution of India to the Achievement of World Peace.”  In it, Pauling applauded India for its resistance of pressures to build and store weapons. Nehru’s successor, Lal Bahadur Shastri, maintained this theme in announcing that, unlike many other countries of the era, India would not participate in stockpiling nuclear weapons. Inspired by the nation’s attitude, Pauling suggested that India should take the lead in an effort to bring the Chinese People’s Republic into the United Nations, noting that in his 1955 visit he had heard Nehru speak with conviction about the compelling need to admit communist China to the U.N.

The entire experience of India seems to have made a favorable and lasting impression on the Paulings.  In a letter to a fellow scientist written upon his return home, Pauling specifically pointed out that “We were greatly impressed by India – not only by the scientific men, some of whom are really fine, but also by the political leaders.”  It should come as no surprise then, that the Paulings made a return visit in 1967.  This visit will be the subject of our next post in our continuing series devoted to the Paulings’ international travels.