American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer

Oppenheimer’s hearing began on April 12, 1954. Unlike judges in a courtroom, the three members of the review board had already read Oppenheimer’s classified security file. Early on, it became clear that the hearing’s outcome would hinge on the 1943 Chevalier Affair, as well as secret and illegal FBI wiretaps of known Communists claiming Oppenheimer as one of their own. The next morning, the New York Times broke the news of Oppenheimer’s hearing, which irritated Gray. Robb questioned Oppenheimer about his Communist associations. Bird and Sherwin describe April 14 as “perhaps the most humiliating day in Oppenheimer’s life” (504): Oppenheimer confessed that he had embellished the story of the Chevalier Affair in his 1943 interview with Pash. Robb pressed Oppenheimer on the Pash interview and got the physicist to admit that he invented many aspects of the story. A bigger problem, however, was that Robb had access to Pash’s transcript, whereas Oppenheimer, as the defendant, had access only to his imperfect memory of an interview 11 years earlier. Robb then questioned Oppenheimer about his relationship with Jean Tatlock. Oppenheimer struggled with this part of the testimony.

The next day, Groves appeared as a witness. Although he affirmed Oppenheimer’s loyalty and praised his wartime performance at Los Alamos, the general expressed confusion about the conflicting Chevalier stories and even speculated that Oppenheimer’s brother, Frank, may have been involved. Based on this and additional aspects of the FBI files, which other sources had brought to Groves’s attention, the general agreed with the decision to revoke Oppenheimer’s security clearance. Bird and Sherwin argue, however, that prehearing interviews had left Groves confused and even unsure of his own memory, given that the general had always supported Oppenheimer, refusing to talk to the FBI even as late as December 1953. On Friday, April 16, Oppenheimer returned to the witness chair. Robb grilled him on his opposition to the superbomb, but Oppenheimer now knew what to expect from the abrasive prosecutor and thus performed better. He stood his ground on the superbomb. He and Robb clearly disliked one another. At the end of the day, Oppenheimer and his attorneys retreated to the Georgetown home of Randolph Paul, who was aghast at the extrajudicial proceedings. Much like Einstein, Paul advised Oppenheimer not to put himself through any more testimony. However, Oppenheimer forged ahead with the hearing.

Although the hearing’s outcome appeared to be a foregone conclusion, Garrison called more than two dozen witnesses in Oppenheimer’s defense over the next several weeks. John Lansdale, Army chief of security at Los Alamos, described the hearing as “a manifestation of hysteria” (523). John J. McCloy, chair of the Council on Foreign Relations, questioned the very notion of absolute security. George Kennan testified with eloquence to Oppenheimer’s loyalty and especially his honesty. Robb sprang a surprise document on witness David Lilienthal, leaving the former AEC chair flustered and frustrated with the proceedings.

Isidor Rabi delivered perhaps the line of the hearing when he observed that all this nonsense was over a contract consultant: “If you don’t want to consult the guy, you don’t consult him. Period” (527). Vannevar Bush reviewed the superbomb controversy and chastised the review board for tolerating a proceeding that forced a man to answer for strong opinions. Kitty testified about her Communist past and performed admirably under pressure. Mathematician Johnny von Neumann, who supported and even worked on the superbomb, nonetheless advised the panel to recall how much everyone’s cognizance of security had changed since the beginning of the war and not to apply 1954 standards to 1943 events. Robb called Edward Teller to testify. The scientist who had been obsessed with the superbomb since his Los Alamos days insisted that Oppenheimer was loyal but that his views on the superbomb raised questions about his “wisdom and judgment” (534). Kitty returned to the stand and again answered questions about her Communist past—and again was unflappable. The remarkable inquisition ended on May 5, and the Oppenheimers returned to Princeton.

Oppenheimer’s private ordeal unfolded against the background of the Army-McCarthy hearings, which began on April 21, 1954, and were broadcast to a daily audience of tens of millions. The panel voted to recommend revoking Oppenheimer’s security clearance, but Ward Evans shocked Chairman Gray by writing a dissent. Enraged, Strauss approached the FBI, hoping to apply pressure on Evans, but even J. Edgar Hoover did not intervene. The majority report in the 2-1 vote against Oppenheimer cited “continuing conduct and association” that flaunted security requirements, “susceptibility to influence,” “disturbing” behavior relative to the superbomb, and “less than candid” answers during the hearing (541). Evans eviscerated the majority report, however, by noting that all relevant facts aside from Oppenheimer’s objection to the superbomb had been in the physicist’s file for years.

Kenneth Nichols, AEC general manager and Strauss ally, drafted a letter to accompany the majority report and recommendation, which the full AEC still had to approve. Nichols’s letter downplayed parts of the report and amplified aspects of the hearing that the panel had not emphasized in its recommendation. Bird and Sherwin conclude that Nichols and Strauss recognized the weakness in the majority report and thus chose to deceive the AEC into thinking the case against Oppenheimer was stronger than it was. Oppenheimer’s attorneys knew nothing about this letter. As AEC chair, Strauss bullied the other commissioners into voting with him, but commissioner Henry DeWolf Smyth followed Evans in writing a dissent.

The AEC’s majority opinion, which Strauss drafted, removed all reference to the superbomb. Oppenheimer lost his security clearance but, many believed, emerged as a martyr. Bird and Sherwin describe the entire affair as “a watershed in the relations of the scientist to the government” (549).

After the ordeal, friends described Oppenheimer as stoic but also noticeably aged. Kitty’s strong performance before the panel concealed private turmoil that began to manifest again in the ensuing months. The FBI kept Oppenheimer under surveillance even after the hearing. On July 19, 1954, the Oppenheimer family departed for the Caribbean island of St. John, after informing the FBI of their vacation plans. When Oppenheimer returned from St. John, the FBI greeted and questioned him at the airport, and in March 1955, FBI agents questioned St. John residents about Oppenheimer’s activities and associations while on the island.

As the McCarthyite rhetoric began to abate, however, public opinion turned in Oppenheimer’s favor. Journalist and television host Edward R. Murrow interviewed Oppenheimer in January 1955, and the physicist again lamented the government’s obsession with secrecy. In his public statements on nuclear policy, however, Oppenheimer remained cautious. He had once belonged to the nation’s foreign policy establishment, so it appeared to some friends and like-minded associates that the “exiled intellectual” still showed some reflexive deference to the powers in Washington, DC. In the mid to late 1950s, Oppenheimer delivered public lectures and continued to preside over the Institute. In addition, he traveled abroad more frequently.

The Oppenheimers designed a “spartan beach cottage”—a kind of “Caribbean version of Perro Caliente”—on the island of St. John, where they spent several months each year (566). While the cottage was constructed, they stayed a short time with Robert and Nancy Gibney, their only neighbors. According to Nancy, the Oppenheimers were nightmare houseguests, and the couples feuded for years thereafter. Other St. John residents, however, grew to admire the Oppenheimers. Kitty continued to drink but enjoyed gardening. Peter drifted apart from his parents and spent time in New Mexico, but Toni grew to love the island. Robert spent his days sailing and his evenings entertaining new island friends.

Oppenheimer attended a famous dinner at the John F. Kennedy White House. Kennedy later announced that he would award Oppenheimer the Enrico Fermi Prize for public service. Oppenheimer was working on his acceptance speech for the December 1963 ceremony when he learned of Kennedy’s assassination. President Lyndon Johnson conducted the ceremony as scheduled on December 2. Oppenheimer and Kitty met the grieving Jackie Kennedy, who congratulated the physicist and assured him that the late president had looked forward to bestowing the award. In 1959, after Eisenhower had nominated Lewis Strauss to serve as Commerce Secretary, then-Senator John F. Kennedy had voted against Strauss because of his conduct in the Oppenheimer hearing. The Strauss nomination failed in the Senate 49-46. Oppenheimer thus received some public vindication, but in private he and Kitty expressed bitterness toward Edward Teller and others.

As the turmoil of the 1960s unfolded, Oppenheimer remained largely silent about public affairs. He agreed to some interviews, including one that aired on NBC in 1965 to coincide with the 20th anniversary of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Otherwise, he did not take a leading role in shaping public opinion about those events. In the spring of 1965, Oppenheimer decided to resign from the Institute effective June 1966. His smoker’s cough worsened. In February 1966, he learned that he had throat cancer. Radiation treatment improved his condition enough that he and Kitty could return to St. John in July, but in October he learned that the cancer had returned and spread. By December, friends and family could see that he was dying. In an interview with Look magazine, Oppenheimer discussed the concept of responsibility. On January 6, 1967, Oppenheimer learned that his radiation treatment had not helped. He died in his sleep on February 18. Friends and public figures offered condolences and eulogies. Kitty traveled to St. John with her husband’s ashes and dropped the urn into the sea.

Kitty began living with Bob Serber, Oppenheimer’s former student, but she refused to call Serber “Robert” because, to her, there was “only one Robert” (589). Frank Oppenheimer recovered from his ordeal. He and Jackie poured their energies into the new Exploratorium, a hands-on science museum in San Francisco. Peter Oppenheimer settled in New Mexico, raised three children, and endured two divorces. Toni Oppenheimer proved adept at learning languages but, because of her father’s past, she did not receive security clearance for a job with the UN in 1969. Pain and struggle filled her private life, and she became a recluse, returning to St. John. A psychiatrist treated her for depression. At the beach cottage in January 1977, Toni died by suicide. Toni’s friend Katherine Barlas later said, “Everybody loved her, but she didn’t know that” (591).