Edward Teller
In Memoriam
From THE
NATIONAL INTEREST (Summer 2002)
September 10, 2003
(The following is
adapted from the review of Edward Teller's memoirs written by Adam Schulman,
who teaches the liberal arts at St. John’s
College
in Annapolis, Maryland.)
In the minds of most
American physicists today and a good part of the educated public, as well,
Edward Teller remains a sinister figure, somehow epitomizing in his person
all that is morally suspect about the Cold War, atomic energy, and nuclear
weapons. Indeed, Teller is generally taken to be one of four possible models
(with Werner von Braun, Herman Kahn, and Henry Kissinger) for Stanley
Kubrick’s unforgettable character Dr. Strangelove, played brilliantly by
Peter Sellers in the 1964 film. In part, this is attributable to Teller’s
incessant promotion of the hydrogen bomb, his unpopular advocacy of
peacetime uses for nuclear explosions (to dig harbors and canals, for
example), his skepticism toward arms control, and, during the Reagan
presidency, his role in promoting the Strategic Defense Initiative. Of
course, in this last respect, the contempt heaped on Edward Teller mirrors
the fate of nearly every prominent public intellectual who dared to deviate
from the prevailing liberal orthodoxy, especially in the last decades of the
Cold War.
But Teller has also
been particularly despised and shunned for his supposed role in the
“downfall” of J. Robert Oppenheimer, whose security clearance was revoked by
the Atomic Energy Commission following hearings in 1954. Oppenheimer was
charged with harboring Communist sympathies; he was stripped of his
clearance in part because of Teller’s adverse testimony. Many physicists
have never forgiven Teller for what seemed to them an act of treachery
against a brilliant colleague who had, after all, guided the Manhattan
Project to its triumphant success. It was easy enough to conclude that the
long-running tension between Teller and Oppenheimer over whether to pursue
the hydrogen bomb was the real reason Teller was willing to help destroy his
former boss’s reputation.
This is a complex
and difficult subject, however, and one on which Teller’s memoirs do shed
some interesting light. (Teller’s complete testimony is included as an
appendix to the book.) While Oppenheimer was certainly no Soviet agent, he
was, in his own words, “a member of just about
every Communist Front organization on the West Coast.” He also
committed serious indiscretions and recklessly lied to federal
investigators, actions for which he might have lost his clearance even
without Teller’s testimony. As for his own role, Teller clearly indicates
that he regrets his decision to testify against Oppenheimer, that he admired
him immensely, and that, in his testimony, he questioned only his
colleague’s judgment and never his loyalty. In any case, since Oppenheimer
retained his post as director of
Princeton’s Institute for Advanced
Study, one should not exaggerate the injury done to him by the suspension of
his security clearance.
On the whole it
seems clear that the vilification Teller has endured is largely unmerited;
that for decades he worked tirelessly and devotedly on behalf of his adopted
country; that he made immeasurable contributions to American national
security; and that, in all likelihood, the hydrogen bomb he bequeathed to
the world has helped, by its deterrent effect, to maintain the relative
peace the world enjoyed during the latter half of the 20th
century. For these lasting achievements Edward Teller, that supreme
practitioner of Baconian science, deserves our admiration and our gratitude.
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