Daily Archives: 10/12/2008

A tale of two databases: India’s R&D dilemma(2005)


  Science and Development Network

Opinions *
A tale of two databases: India’s R&D dilemma
Rajesh Kochhar
13 June 2005
Source: SciDev.Net

Without reliable long-term data in a uniform format, it is impossible to evaluate ongoing research and development (R&D) activities, launch new initiatives or make international comparisons with any confidence.

Yet in India — and many other developing countries — data compilation is such a haphazard process that we have no clear picture of national R&D.  

Since 1973, the Indian government’s Department of Science and Technology has been responsible for creating a reliable database on the availability and deployment of scientific and technical resources.

The latest (2000-1) edition of the department’s valuable Research and Development Statistics is based on a national survey carried out in the fiscal year 1998-99, and was published in May 2002.

The database has two parts. One consists of information taken from government records. This material, dealing mainly with funding, is intrinsically very reliable.

From it one can learn, for instance, that India’s R&D expenditure rose from 0.16 per cent of gross domestic product in 1958 to 0.91 per cent in 1987, before declining. In 1998 it stood at 0.81 per cent.

The data also shows where the money comes from and which sectors it is spent on.

In 1998-1999, about 80 per cent of Indian R&D spending came from the government. Of this, 32 per cent was spent on military research, 21 per cent on space research, and 12 per cent on atomic energy. Agriculture received 12 per cent, and ten per cent was allocated to the Council of Scientific and Industrial Research.

Similarly useful information can be found in the records of the Indian patent office; in 1998-99, a total of 1,800 patents (645 of them Indian) were granted.

This is all very useful but the complications begin to arise with the second part of the R&D database, which deals mainly with scientific output.

It is based on replies to questionnaires sent out by government agencies such as the Department of Science and Technology and the government’s University Grants Commission (UGC).

The problem is that there is no indication of how complete the survey is. The data, presented as though it were complete, can be misleading or confusing.

A case in point is the number of engineering and technology doctorates awarded in 1977 — a year for which independent statistics are available.

The UGC says 152 doctorates were awarded, but the CSIR says there were 289. However, a committee appointed by the government in 1978 to review education and research carried out a head-count and reported 329 doctorates — more than double the UGC figure.

Different editions of Research and Development Statistics disagree about data, as do different government sources.

For the year 1989, the number of engineering and technology doctorates varied from 238 to 586 depending on which government source is consulted — all four disagree. There is similar confusion in the case of science doctorates, although the spread is smaller: the quoted figures for 1987 range from 2,591 to 3,038.

Publishing puzzle

The ambiguity extends to efforts to determine how many research papers India produces every year. For an answer, one must turn to foreign databases — sources that obviously mainly serve the needs of the countries that have created them.

In 1998, India produced 1.57 per cent of the world’s total research papers published in journals listed by the Science Citation Index (SCI). By 2002, its share had increased slightly, to 1.79 per cent. 

During the same period, China moved from 1.90 to 3.68 per cent; and Brazil, more modestly, from 1.03 to 1.49 per cent. Germany, the UK and France show a marginal decline in their share while the United States and Canada show a small rise.

But of the 3,500 SCI journals, only ten are Indian. More broad-based than the SCI is the Web of Science database, yet this only includes about 50 Indian journals — a tiny fraction of the 2,000-plus scientific periodicals published in 2000.

Alternatively, one could consult subject-specific databases and add up the numbers — an exercise that produces a total of 52,120 Indian papers for 1999.

The problem with this approach, however, is that it creates overestimates, because the same papers can appear in different databases, such as those for agriculture and life sciences.

In any case, a common trend discernible in all these databases is that Indian publication output has remained stagnant for at least 15 to 20 years. But in the absence of a national database on R&D publishing, this conclusion has become controversial.

If data compilation remains a desultory and sporadic exercise, vital questions will remain unanswered. How are universities performing in comparison to research institutes? Where do physical sciences stand with respect to applied biology? What is the profile of authors with respect to gender, age, social and educational background, national and international collaboration?

And without those answers, a true picture of the state of science in India will remain elusive. This situation has kept alive misleading myths, such as the one stating India has the third largest scientific and technical manpower in the world.

Are there any other models India could use? In South Africa, all information on research publications is collated at government level. The system works because incentives for individual authors as well as awards of research grants are linked to research output.

But in India, where salary and job security are guaranteed with no link to performance, such a system is unlikely to work.

Better by design

However, this makes India ideally placed to launch its own centrally organised system. Since most research in India is carried out in state-owned and funded institutions, the government could decree that a reliable, complete and continually updated database be created. It could be made mandatory for all heads of institutes/universities to submit authenticated quantitative and descriptive information in a prescribed format every year.

This information would then go to a central agency staffed by qualified people capable of compiling the information and publishing it in an annotated and user-friendly format, say every two years.

To build up accurate regional and international R&D portraits, other countries could follow either the South African or this proposed Indian model. And if similarly placed countries could agree first on a standard format, allowing national databases to be collated, the ideal would be reached.

Rajesh Kochhar is director of the National Institute of Science, Technology and Development Studies, New Delhi, India.

Read more about research and development in SciDev.Net’s research and development dossier.

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Rajesh Kochhar : The Vedic People, reviewed by S. Muralidharan (2000)

Frontline Volume 17 – Issue 25, Dec. 9 – 22, 2000
India’s National Magazine
from the publishers of THE HINDU




Questions about the Aryan identity 200)



The Vedic People, Their History and Geography by Rajesh Kochhar; Orient Longman, Hyderabad, 2000; pages xiv + 259, Rs.425.


“HISTORY cannot be written without implicating the historian,” says Rajesh Kochhar as he begins his journey into the remote past. By any standards, he is an unconventional historian, an astrophysicist who has equipped himself with the tools of diverse di sciplines – ethnography, linguistics, metallurgy, paleobotany, among others – to interpret a period which to this day remains wrapped in mystery. More than the obscurity of the archaeological and scriptural records, the more formidable barriers to unders tanding have been posed by the layers of political partisanship that the study of the Vedas – as historical documents – have acquired over the years.

Interpretations of the Vedas have always been closely interwoven with competing views on the construction of the modern Indian state. Theorists of nationhood as a primordial solidarity dating back to antiquity, cite the authority of the Vedas in self-rat ionalisation. In the early days of India’s struggle against colonialism, the liberal sections of the nationalist leadership were torn by a question of priorities: should nationalist consolidation precede or follow social reform? Lala Lajpat Rai, the grea t spokesman of Hindu nationalism, had a simple solution to the conundrum: “Reform is revival and revival is reform”. While national consolidation through social reform was undoubtedly important, this should be based entirely on rational foundations, said Lajpat Rai. And “nothing can be national or rational which is against the spirit of the Vedas”.

This variety of blind faith has inspired a whole branch of history which today purports to be the truly scientific interpretation, purged of all the political implants. In this context, Kochhar’s work represents an effort to apply the widely accepted rul es of rational inquiry to both summarise the existing state of knowledge of the Vedas and propose some rather bold solutions to its many unresolved questions. He points out that the Vedas began to acquire value as historical documents, as opposed to pure ly priestly records of ritual, with the early European arrivals in India. The term “Arya”, which occurs frequently in the Vedas, was first understood as an epithet that could be applied to the speakers of the Vedic and analogous languages. But later phil ologists, in the flush of their discovery of the common roots of what are today called the Indo-European languages, provided a much broader ambit for the term.

A further note of controversy was imparted by the elevation of the Aryan theory of race – tenuous at the best of times – to a hallowed principle of national revival. The German philologist Max Mueller had a crucial role in this respect. For certain eleme nts within Indian nationalism, the connotations of racial equality that the Aryan theory of race carried, seemed a promise of national redemption. The racial or ethnic basis of the Indian nation was its primeval origin in the days of Aryan glory and its scriptural underpinnings were provided by the Vedas. Since the idiom of nationalism then required every religion to have an encoded system of values, beliefs and practices, Hindu nationalism had little difficulty in casting the Vedas in that role.

Archaeological excavations beginning around 1920 turned up evidence of the Indus Valley civilisation, confronting this school of thought with a serious challenge. This left the Hindu nationalists with no recourse but to seek to assimilate the Harappan ru ins to the Vedic literary corpus. In this enterprise, the antiquity of the Vedas had to be pushed back several centuries and the Vedic river Sarasvati had to be assigned a greater priority than the Indus as a cradle of ancient civilisation.

The initial verdict from the archaeologists was devastating for the pretensions of the Vedic nationalists. As summed up by Mortimer Wheeler, “Indra”, the principal deity of the Vedas, “stood accused” of destroying the Harappan civilisation. One of the ma ny attributes of Indra that attracts frequent references in the Vedas is in fact, “Purandara” or “destroyer of forts”. From here, it was all too easy to build the theory of Aryan conquest over a settled Harappan civilisation, entrenching the supposed ant inomy of Aryan and Dravidian even deeper into the Indian political psyche.

The “Aryan conquest” was a welcome hypothesis for the thinkers who had consistently opposed the Hindu revivalist agenda and read the Vedas as little more than a manifesto of racial separation and social hierarchy. Always a battleground of modern ideas, a ncient India became after this an even more sharply contested political terrain. Rationality could very easily have been the principal casualty of this sharp contest of political interests. Fortunately though, historical inquiry managed to transcend this bitter conflict between contemporary political interests.

The varieties of evidence that Kochhar seeks to marshal in his task of establishing the authentic history of the Vedic people cover a wide range. When examining the literary evidence of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, he proceeds with the robust premis e that these Puranas “are a classic example of how history should not be recorded”. And yet, these oral accounts which were committed to written texts far after the events they purport to describe, remain the only source for the study of ancient history, and “rejecting them outright would be like throwing the baby with the bathwater”.

Kochhar has no alternative, then, but to proceed on the basis of a number of plausible surmises. All genealogies are traced in the Puranas to the primal figure of Manu. Kochhar assumes that the lines of monarchical succession delineated in these texts ar e accurate and that a generation is roughly of 18 years duration. He then tests the narrative against astronomical phenomena of the period, which can be inferred with a fair measure of accuracy. Oblique references to the state of mathematical and geometr ical knowledge are culled out from the text and correlated with known details of the evolution of Indian thinking in these disciplines. His conclusion is that the Bharata battle, as an epic contest of strength between the diverse clans and tribes of the region, must have taken place around 900 B.C. He intentionally eschews the term “Mahabharata’ since the “Maha” he argues, refers only to the numerous embellishments that succeeding years have added on to the original account. This dating, in his view, is infirm when viewed in isolation. But it concurs with the dating that can be inferred from “more reliable sources such as the Vedic texts and archaeology”.

IT is a verity often overlooked that modern territorial definitions have no meaning in the study of ancient history. To study the Vedas (or the first of them, the Rigveda) in isolation from the Zend Avesta, an almost equally hoary record of established r eligious practice from the Iranian region, would be in Kochhar’s view, completely futile. The congruences in the vocabulary and the content are too numerous to overlook and the partly antithetical philosophies strongly suggest an element of political con testation between the adherents of the two orthodoxies. Kochhar follows up this study of the texts with a broader analysis of their linguistic contexts in the larger Indo-Iranian and Indo-European habitats.

A particularly striking feature of the book is its effort to separate the verbiage and the poetic effusions that surround the Rigvedic cult of Soma, (or Haoma in the Avesta) and identify its material basis. As a plant whose alkaloid resin is supposed to produce certain magical effects on its users, Kochhar examines several possible candidates for the category, before finally narrowing his focus to the ephedra plant which is known to grow profusely in the mountainous regions of Central Asia.

The life-sustaining rivers Sarasvati and Sarayu are similarly common to both the Vedas and the Avesta. Modern orthodoxy allows that the Vedic Sarasvati could possibly refer to the Ghaggar river system, which is a rainwater drain for the Shivaliks and lat er broadens its channels as it transits into the Cholistan desert in modern-day Pakistan. Kochhar finds this identification to be rather flimsy for several reasons. Even after allowing for all possible geological and ecological changes over the millennia , it is simply implausible, he argues, to say that the mighty Sarasvati of the Vedic narrative could be in such reduced circumstances as today’s Ghaggar.

The inferences that Kochhar draws are arresting and deserve quotation at some length: “…the river names Sarayu and Sarasvati, that occur in both the Rgveda and Avesta, refer to the rivers in Afghanistan. Sarayu is the same river, Hari-rud, in both cas es, whereas the name Sarasvati applied to the Helmand in the Rgveda is transferred to its tributary, the Arghandab, in the Avesta… The significance of the occurrence of the names Sarayu and Sarasvati in both the texts needs to be fully appreciated… T he most natural explanation for the commonality of these names is that they were given to the Afghan rivers by the Rgveda composing branch of the Aryans. The Iranian branch which came to dominate the area later, decided to retain the names. When the Rgve dic people moved eastwards, they carried these names along and selectively reused them. The names that were not reused lost their geographical identity and became literary terms. This would explain the curious fact that in spite of the Rgveda’s uninterru pted sanctity and the continuous Aryan presence in India, a large number of the Rgvedic names of rivers, lakes and mountains are unrecognisable.”

The numerous “well-established linkages” between the Rigveda and the Avesta, Kochhar argues, firmly rule out “the Indian origin of the Aryans”. Equally definitively, it is simply inconceivable that the Harappan civilisation could have been Aryan. A numbe r of arguments are advanced in support of this assertion, one among them being the absence in known Harappan sites of any well-testified remnants of the horse, a crucial animal in Vedic lore.

There are also serious mismatches between the available archaeological record and the Vedic descriptions, which fly in the face of the effort to identify the Ghaggar as the Vedic Sarasvati and ascribe to it a greater priority than the Indus in the Harapp an civilisation. “Archaeologically,” Kochhar points out, “the oldest (Harappan) sites are in Baluchistan, followed by the lower Indus, lower Ghaggar and upper Ghaggar in that order.” The Rigveda reverses this entire chronology, since the hymns venerating the Sarasvati are its oldest. Archaeologically in other words, there is a pointer to an eastward migration of the Vedic people, which can only be squared with the scriptural evidence if the Vedic Sarasvati is identified as the rivers of Afghanistan.

All this constitutes a very provocative reading of ancient India. Being a relative outsider to the discipline of history, Kochhar is able to advance bold hypotheses that the more conventional historian would stop short of. But the audacity of his inferen ces is underpinned by rigorous scientific reasoning. And he forswears the notion of an Aryan conquest, preferring to argue on the basis of the preponderance of evidence that the reality was one of a gradual migration eastwards, an assimilation of pre-exi sting cultures in the Indus region and of progress into the Ganga-Yamuna basin following the discovery of iron.

As a historian fully implicated in the process of inquiry, Kochhar brings to bear a unique combination of skills. His work is a synthesis of specialised writings in a range of disciplines, leavened by bold leaps of conjecture and imagination. The non-spe cialist would be amply rewarded for the effort put into comprehending Kochhar’s multifarious arguments. For the specialist, they constitute a challenge to innovate and work with new techniques of inquiry, to lay bare the social realities of the distant past.




Chandrayaan-I (2008)

Power Politics, New Delhi, November 2008 

Chandrayaan – I

Rajesh Kochhar

On 22 October 2008 India successfully launched its first unmanned spacecraft, Chandrayaan-I, into space. As a first step the craft has been placed in an elongated orbit around the Earth. The orbit will be made more and more elongated till  in about two weeks’ time the craft is transferred to a lunar orbit about 100 km away from the Moon. The 590 kg probe will have a  working life of about two years.  It carries eleven thematically integrated  scientific payloads, five from India, three from European Space Agency(ESA), two from USA and one from Bulgaria. All the experiments aim at creating a high-resolution map of the lunar surface and the minerals beneath it. NASA is particularly interested in searching for ice beneath the lunar poles. 

Like Indian Space Research Organization’s earlier  missions this one is also a remote sensing satellite   except that it focuses on the Moon rather than the Earth. With its successful launch India joins a select club comprising US, Russia, Japan and China

The Moon is unique in the solar system in an important aspect. While the other natural satellites are minuscule compared to the parent planet, the Moon and the Earth are more like a double planet. Indeed ancient Indian folklore dubs Moon as a brother of the mother Earth (hence the epithet Chanda-mama). 

As can be expected from an ancient culture India has an abiding affair with the Moon.  Serving as a time-keeper. coming to the aid of a harassed mother by lulling the child to sleep; acting as a witness to the lovers’ tryst; inspiring the poets– the waxing and waning Moon has always played an important societal role that has been highlighted in a number of melodious film songs in the past decades. India is now seeking to establish a first-hand and a  more material equation with our terrestrial neighbour. 

What is the mission expected to achieve? The Moon has never been imaged so closely as will be done by the Chandrayaan. How the solar system formed is a challenging research problem in astronomy . Within the solar system the formation of the Earth-Moon system raises many questions. Additional data will help refine the existing theories, although it is unlikely that any surprises will be sprung. 

Can the mission have any utilitarian value? Very wisely ISRO does not say. But there are long-standing suggestions on the practical side of lunar missions that have now been revived.  Thus it has been proposed that the Moon itself can be colonized and used as a launching pad for farther colonies. If this is escapism,  there is another suggestion that  the Moon be asked to meet Earth’s energy needs. As is well known the lunar soil contains vast amounts of helium 3, an isotope of helium. There are experts who would  like  this helium to be dug up and brought to earth for use as a raw material for fusion reactions. It is interesting that when Mount Everest is climbed no justification is asked for or proffered. Yet in  the case of a technological mission some profit should be promised. May  be this is because of the  heavy costs involved. 

The whole idea of bringing resources from the Moon to the Earth is an exceptionally stupid one  and needs to be squashed right away. 

In my view the most important aspect of the Chandrayaan mission is that it would plant Indian national flag on the Moon. An unmanned space-probe is a technological feat of high order. An added feature is that India’s space program is extremely good value for money from even international standards. No wonder then that ISRO’s rocket launching facilities are being commercially used by others. It is  most appropriate that the space vehicle launching facility at Shriharikota on the eastern coast has been named after Satish Dhawan. If Vikram Sarabhai be compared to the founder of the Mughal Empire ,Babar, then Dhawan can be equated with Akbar. 

India’s space program is the most successful of all national science initiatives. One reason for this is easy to see. In space exploration there is no room for excuses or rationalizations. The difference between success and failure is obvious . Either a satellite remains in orbit or falls down. The principles and procedures  that have been developed in space management need to be carefully studied with a view to examining the possibility of their wider application. 

Without diminishing the credit due to India, its space program needs to be examined in a wider context for purposes of insight. Let us make a distinction between a rising technology and a flat technology. As the name suggests a rising technology is one which is currently undergoing rapid phases of development while a flat technology is one which has been more or less standardized. Clearly, a rising technology of today is a flat technology of tomorrow.

 If lunar missions  now have been left to the likes of Japan, China and Japan  it is because they  now constitute standard technologies. If colonization and mining of celestial bodies become a possibility, you would see the initiative being grabbed back by US and to a lesser extent by ESA.

Where does India go from here? A manned flight and an Indian on the Moon are said to be on the cards. Given ISRO’s record these goals should not be difficult to accomplish. What would limit India’s space ambitions is not technology or finance but manpower. 

Fortuitously  Chandrayaan has  been well-timed. Its launch has coincided with the onset of world-wide financial and economic crises. It is as well that the quantification  of financial instruments has fallen into disrepute and the processes of globalization received a setback.  Their glamour and pelf were  acting as a brain sink, to the detriment of science. If Lehman Brothers was to be the resting place for Indian Institute of Technology-imparted engineering skills, it is good that it is closed down. 

Almost two centuries ago India became the first country in the world in modern times to receive state aid for education. This was a dubious distinction, because the state in question was the East India Company and the aid was meant to subsidize the education of children of wealthy Indians. This sort of elitism has returned with vengeance in the globalization era. The Indian state has been greatly indulgent towards the education of those who would de-nationalize themselves and not mind even petty jobbery beneath their intellect and skills for the sake of a dollar pay packet which though small   in absolute terms still translates into a neat bundle in rupees.

To meet the  manpower requirement of ISRO and other similar agencies, the government should strengthen middle-order institutions and bring in first-generation learners. 

Indian public, parliament and media as well as the world at large have been unanimous  or near-unanimous in hailing India’s foray into the outer space. Perhaps the best testimony to India’s space  programme comes from the fact that  it  had such high faith in its own capabilities that  no need was felt to insure the Chandrayaan.//