(See Cover)
The question that hung for eight weeks over the shabby, drab little hearing room in Washington's Temporary Building III held a burning implication for virtually everyone who walked through the door. For the thin, angular man with the chill blue eyes and the close-cropped hair, it was a challenge that demanded a desperate fight, even though he might have retired quietly on his honors without fighting. To many of the 40 great names of American atomic science and education, who flocked from their farthest retreats to testify to J. Robert Oppenheimer's character, it implied a special kind of suspicion aimed at one of their distinguished colleagues—and perhaps, they believed, at them as well.
For the three citizens who sat in judgment behind a big, horseshoe-shaped table, it symbolized one of history's most thankless tasks: to decide between a demonstrably great and compelling public figure and an impersonal something called the security of the U.S. One of the three, Ward V. Evans, 71, was a professor emeritus of chemistry at Loyola University of Chicago; a second, Thomas Morgan, 66, was a successful retired man of business; the third was a former Secretary of the Army, and a substantial pillar of liberal education in his own right, President Gordon Gray, 45, of the University of North Carolina (see box). Through the eight weeks they read transcripts, studied FBI reports, questioned witnesses, listened to examinations and cross-examinations by counsel. Then, one day last month, they were ready to answer the question: Is J. Robert Oppenheimer, the man who directed the creation of the world's first atom bomb a decade ago, now to be denied access to classified information because he is a risk to the security of the U.S.?
The chemist scornfully said no; the businessman and the university president, carrying the authority of the majority, said yes.
The Hard Way. The majority's "yes" was firm and unequivocal, but regretful and full of understanding of what "yes" would mean to Dr. Oppenheimer, to the legions of Oppenheimer partisans, and to the other legions who would read only the headlines. Moreover, they said "yes" the hard way; they absolved Physicist Oppenheimer of any charges of present-day disloyalty, or of any "attachment to the Soviet Union"; they commended his "high degree of discretion, reflecting an unusual ability to keep to himself vital secrets." Their verdict lay in a new and carefully reasoned proposition: beyond loyalty and discretion lie certain harsh requirements of security that Robert Oppenheimer, as an individual, does not measure up to.
The majority's conclusions:
1) "We find that Dr. Oppenheimer's continuing conduct and associations have reflected a serious disregard for the requirements of the security system.
2) "We have found a susceptibility to influence which could have serious implications for the security interests of the country.
3) "We find his conduct in the hydrogen bomb program sufficiently disturbing as to raise a doubt as to whether his future participation, if characterized by the same attitudes, in a Government program relating to the national defense would be clearly consistent with the best interests of security.