Dr R. Chidambaram: Scientist, Strategist, Nation Builder — A Personal Tribute on His First Punyatithi.

Today, as we mark the first Punyatithi of Dr. R. Chidambaram, I feel compelled to place on record a tribute that goes beyond formal obituaries and official citations. This is both a remembrance of a towering scientist and a deeply personal reflection on a man whose life and work profoundly shaped India’s scientific, strategic, and intellectual landscape.

Dr. R. Chidambaram—Padma Vibhushan, one of the principal architects of India’s nuclear programme, and a scientist intimately associated with Pokhran-I (1974) and Pokhran-II (1998)—passed away on 4 January 2025 at the age of 88. With his passing, India lost not merely a physicist of rare brilliance, but a quiet nation-builder whose contributions were foundational to India’s strategic autonomy and self-reliance.

Architect of India’s Strategic Scientific Capability

Dr. Chidambaram’s professional journey spanned over six decades of India’s post-Independence scientific evolution. After completing his postgraduate studies at the Indian Institute of Science, Bengaluru, he joined the Bhabha Atomic Research Centre (BARC) in 1962, at the invitation of Dr. Homi Bhabha, working initially in the Neutron Crystallography Group. From these early years as a young scientist, his ascent was marked by intellectual rigour, institutional leadership, and unwavering national commitment.

He went on to serve as:

Director, BARC

Chairman, Atomic Energy Commission (AEC)

Secretary, Department of Atomic Energy (DAE)

Principal Scientific Adviser to the Government of India for a record 17–18 years, working closely with at least five Prime Ministers, including Prime Minister Narendra Modi

Few individuals in independent India have exercised such sustained influence at the highest levels of science policy and strategic decision-making.

His leadership during Pokhran-II was not merely technical; it was emblematic of India’s resolve to safeguard its sovereignty in an uncertain geopolitical environment. Under his stewardship, India demonstrated that scientific excellence, strategic restraint, and national responsibility could coexist.

“India Rising: A Memoir of a Scientist” — A Chronicle of Purpose.

My last professional association with Dr. Chidambaram was during the launch of his autobiography, India Rising: A Memoir of a Scientist, co-authored with Suresh Gangotra, at the Nehru Science Centre, Mumbai. I had the honour to be in conversation with him, engaging him in a freewheeling discussion on the book and the ideas beyond its pages.

It was deeply symbolic that Dr. Chidambaram chose the Nehru Science Centre—a space that attracts over eight lakh visitors annually and is mandated to take science to the people—as the venue for the book launch. This decision reflected his lifelong belief that science must not remain confined to laboratories or elite circles, but must inspire society at large, especially young minds.

The book’s 18 chapters trace a remarkable professional journey, with particularly compelling chapters on Pokhran-I and Pokhran-II, and a fascinating chapter on his interactions with various Prime Ministers. Released at a time when public interest in scientists had been reignited globally by the film Oppenheimer, the memoir provided an Indian counterpoint—rooted in restraint, responsibility, and nation-building rather than personal tragedy.

I remain deeply honoured that my name finds mention in the acknowledgements of this book—a gesture that speaks volumes about Dr. Chidambaram’s graciousness and generosity of spirit.

A Scientist Committed to Science Communication.

Beyond his formidable scientific stature, Dr. Chidambaram was a passionate advocate of science communication. He was a frequent visitor to science centres and museums, often accompanying his grandchildren to the Nehru Science Centre, Mumbai. He took keen interest in how science was communicated to the public and often expressed his conviction that the National Council of Science Museums (NCSM) should function under the Department of Science & Technology, rather than the Ministry of Culture—a point he raised with characteristic persistence whenever we met.

He believed that nurturing scientific temper was as critical as advancing frontier research.

A lesser-known but endearing facet of his personality was his deep love for cricket. He greatly appreciated the “Cricket Connects” exhibition catalogues - three exhibitions catalogs, India South Africa, India England and India and Australia - that I had curated, chronicling the history of Indian cricket, including one of his favourite moments—the 1971 series victory. These conversations revealed a man who was as comfortable discussing neutron diffraction as he was reminiscing about Indian cricketing triumphs.

The Silence That Spoke Volumes: Reel Heroes vs Real Heroes.

In the days following his passing, what disturbed me deeply—and prompted a subsequent reflection titled “Real Heroes Versus Reel Heroes”—was the near-total absence of television media during his state funeral. This silence stood in stark contrast to the wall-to-wall coverage accorded to incidents involving film celebrities during the same period.

This was not an argument against coverage of unfortunate events involving public figures from cinema, but a plea for balance and introspection. When the passing of a scientist who helped secure India’s strategic autonomy receives less attention than celebrity gossip or crime, it raises troubling questions about the narratives we privilege as a society.

How will young Indians aspire to become scientists if the media fails to celebrate those who dedicated their lives to building the nation quietly, resolutely, and without glamour?

A Legacy That Must Endure

Dr. R. Chidambaram embodied the finest traditions of Indian science—rigour without arrogance, authority without authoritarianism, patriotism without jingoism. He believed deeply in an India that was “economically developed, scientifically advanced, and militarily strong”, not for domination, but for dignity.

As someone who has spent nearly four decades in science communication, I can say with conviction that his life offers lessons far beyond nuclear physics or strategic policy. It teaches us about institutional integrity, humility in leadership, and the moral responsibility of knowledge.

India has lost one of its brightest minds, but his legacy—etched into the foundations of our scientific institutions and strategic capabilities—will continue to guide us.

Rest in peace, Dr. R. Chidambaram.

You will be deeply missed, but your light will continue to inspire.

Om Shanti.

Jai Hind. Jai Vigyan.