The 'inner life' of a rational scientist

Beyond the realm of science, Jagadish Chandra Bose's legacy holds a spiritual dimension. Sudipto Das's book delves into unveiling this facet and how nationalistic impulses inspired much of his work

Jagadish Chandra Bose: The Reluctant Physicist

Author: Sudipto Das

Publisher: Niyogi Books

Pages: 392

Price: Rs 795

There have been multiple biographies of Acharya Jagadish Chandra Bose (1858-1937), the pioneering interdisciplinary scientist, who was close to the epicentre of the many tumultuous socio-political movements that swept through Bengal and India during his lifetime. Kunal Ghosh, for example, wrote an outstanding scientific biography a few years ago.

The influence of Bose (who usually spelt his name “Jagadis”) extended far beyond the realm of personal scientific inquiry. He had relationships, good and bad, that spanned the global scientific community. As an eminent Bengali intellectual, he knew every other eminent Bengali of his era. This book explores some of those relationships as well as looking at the science.

Bose was a very complex individual. He was a rational scientist, who was also deeply religious. He had an explosive temper, and huge mood swings, which he struggled to control. He was a committed nationalist who believed in Satyagraha (from long before the term was coined) and bloody-minded enough to refuse to accept a salary lower than his white colleagues for many years. But there is also compelling evidence, referred to only in passing in this book, that he and his chemist colleague and friend, Acharya Prafulla Chandra Ray, allowed revolutionaries to tap into their knowledge of explosives, and to pilfer chemicals stored in the labs at Presidency College.

Many of Bose’s most fascinating interactions were with his friend and co-religionist Rabindranath Tagore, and with another close friend, Swami Vivekananda, with whom he had violent, public differences of opinion about religion. That relationship led in turn to close friendships with two women, the Irishwoman Margaret Noble aka Sister Nivedita, and the American, Sarah Bull.

These two ladies were famously followers of Vivekananda (and hence not on the same page as Bose in terms of faith). However, they both adored Bose and made substantial contributions to his well-being, raising funds for his work, as well as offering emotional sustenance. Nivedita was, of course, also the individual who nurtured an entire generation of revolutionaries after the death of her “Master” (as she called Vivekananda) and the first Partition of Bengal in 1905.

Author Sudipto Das does a pretty fair job of covering the science. There are some new insights into Bose’s work, and a mildly speculative look at the metaphysical aspects of his interdisciplinary work. Mr Das also highlights one lacuna in Bose’s scientific education — his lack of mathematical expertise, which meant he often couldn’t follow through on his experiments and derive the encompassing physical theory. The book meticulously picks through the history of wireless, where Bose was a pioneer (one of several), and points to his amazing discoveries in the arena of semiconductors, and in the ways electrical impulses affect plants, animals and metals. 

But the book’s true worth lies in its exposition of Bose’s “inner life”. His spiritual and nationalistic impulses inspired much of his work, and coloured his interactions with the individuals mentioned above.  While there is much correspondence between them (they were all copious letter writers) and eyewitness descriptions of their interactions in Bengali, this hasn’t been explored in much detail in English until this book.

Bose fought long and hard to carve out some semblance of equity for Indians working in the Raj’s education service. As an educationist, he scraped together the funds to establish the Bose Institute, with help from the two ladies mentioned above, and from Tagore, who persuaded the Maharaja of Tripura to make a contribution. The Bose Institute was among the first institutions of scientific research that wasn’t dependent on British largesse.

The religious fault lines between Vivekananda and his disciples, and Brahmo Samajis like Tagore and Bose, have been explored gingerly by other commentators. Das goes a little further than most. Brahmos (now recognised as a distinct minority numbering just a few lakhs) accept the Vedas as holy books, but not the later texts of Hinduism. This reformist movement worships a single, invisible deity, and abjures idol worship, rituals, caste and dietary taboos as superstition. The Brahmos were at the forefront of the reform movements to ban Sati, permit widow remarriage, encourage women’s education, and so on. (Tagore, Satyajit Ray, Acharya Prafulla Ray were all Brahmos, as is Amartya Sen).

The Ramakrishna Mission established by Vivekananda is wedded to Devi-worship, as well as revering Ramakrishna Paramahansa. It is also a reformist movement, albeit operating within the bounds of pantheism. Vivekananda said many harsh things about Brahmoism (and more personally, about Tagore). The Brahmos reciprocated with similar sentiments about “superstitious idol-worshippers”. However, Vivekananda had Brahmo family members, and Bose’s mother was a Shakto. So, at a personal level, they could reconcile religious differences and stay friends united in seeking a better future for their nation.

Bose’s true genius was as an experimental scientist. He could ask difficult questions ranging across disciplines and he could build instruments and conceptualise experiments that were decades, or a century ahead of his time. As Das points out, Bose examined millimetre waves, which are only now being deployed in 5G networks.

You cannot separate the man and his work from the times he lived in. That was when a humiliated, broken nation rediscovered some of its self-confidence. Bose contributed to that in many ways, not least by simply proving that an Indian could do great science despite all the hurdles India’s colonial masters placed in his path. This book adds to the body of knowledge about him.