Mileva Marić-Einstein, Madalsa and Honouring the Feminine Energy
Sometimes, you just stand back and look at the madness gripping the world. Almost everyone is angry, confused, and occasionally terrified of where this world is going. In this maddening world, devotion is one constant that anchors and steadies you. I learned devotion from my Guru, Om Swami. One of the most important things he taught us was to see and accept feminine divinity — Devi. We call her mother divine in India; in her many forms, she is responsible for everything from creation to destruction. We learned to worship her in her many forms, especially during the Navratri festival, and that led to a deepening love and respect for the feminine energy in our lives.
I learned to see the world in a new light. The traditional male perspective softened, and I could see the challenges women faced in everyday life that were previously invisible to me. Today, I want to share a couple of small stories with you. The first focuses on Mileva Marić-Einstein’s life and her contributions to science. The second is about Queen Madalsa and her lessons that helped her son be a fantastic king.
The Life of Mileva Marić-Einstein
Mileva was born on 19 December 1875 in Serbia. She attended high school, and then her father got special permission from the Ministry of Education to enable her to attend physical tutorials generally reserved only for boys. Her friends described her as a brilliant yet reserved child who loved to get to the bottom of things.
She met Albert Einstein in a high school in Switzerland, and they soon became inseparable. While Einstein preferred to study at home, Mileva attended lectures and helped him remain organized. They exchanged a series of letters that detail the collaboration.
In August 1899, Albert wrote to Mileva:
“When I read Helmholtz for the first time, it seemed so odd that you were not at my side and today, this is not getting better. I find the work we do together very good, healing and also easier.”
Then, on 2 October 1899, he wrote from Milan:
“… the climate here does not suit me at all, and while I miss work, I find myself filled with dark thoughts — in other words, I miss having you nearby to kindly keep me in check and prevent me from meandering.”
Their classes concluded in 1900, and they had similar grades in most subjects. However, Mileva outshone him in applied physics, where she got 5 (top marks) while Albert only got 1. However, the oral exams showed a completely different trend. The professor gave 11 out of 12 to the four male students but only 5 to Mileva. Albert was the only student who got his degree that year.
While Albert and Mileva enjoyed their companionship and collaboration, his father completely opposed the relationship. He did not want a non-Jewish, non-german girl who was too intellectual to enter their family. He made Albert vow that he could not marry Mileva till he found a job.
Albert continued his studies and research work, and they submitted their first paper under Albert’s name. They both referenced the work as a shared achievement in private correspondence.
Mileva wrote to Helene Savić on 20 December 1900.
“We will send a private copy to Boltzmann to see what he thinks, and I hope he will answer us.”
Albert also wrote to Mileva on 4 April 1901, saying that his friend Michele Besso
“visited his uncle on my behalf, Prof. Jung, one of the most influential physicists in Italy, and gave him a copy of our article.”
The question then arises of why they would publish only under Albert’s name. There are a couple of prospective answers. The first answer is provided by Radmila Milentijević, the author of the most comprehensive biography on Mileva. She states that Mileva probably wanted to help Albert make a name so that he could find a job and marry her. Dord Krstić — who spent 50 years researching her life, has a different answer. He states that given the prevalent bias against women in those times, adding Mileva’s name to the publication would have weakened it.
However, any accusation of misinterpreting history is removed in Albert’s letter.
“How happy and proud I will be when the two of us together will have brought our work on relative motion to a victorious conclusion.”
This was probably the high point of Mileva’s life because she became pregnant with his child after this. Albert refused to marry her since he was still unemployed. She delivered the girlchild and probably gave it up for adoption. She gave her second and last attempt for clearing her doctorate and was failed by her professor.
Albert finally found a job in the Patent Office in Bern and married Mileva on 6 January 1903. They worked together late into the night on their theories. Here is how Mileva’s brother described the collaboration.
“[Miloš] described how during the evenings and at night, when silence fell upon the town, the young married couple would sit together at the table, and at the light of a kerosene lantern, they would work together on physics problems. Miloš Jr. spoke of how they calculated, wrote, read, and debated.”
They also constructed an ultra-sensitive voltmeter in collaboration with Conrad Habicht — another scientist. Given his work at the patent office, they left it to Albert to describe the device. It was registered as the Einstein-Habicht patent. When quizzed about her name missing from the patent, Mileva responded that the two of them were one stone.
Albert started getting more recognition for his work. He also had an affair with his cousin Elsa Löwenthal in 1912 and corresponded with her for a couple of years. This meant that his marriage collapsed, and Mileva agreed to divorce him with the condition that she would get the money if Albert received the Nobel prize. She received the money and used most of it to treat one of her sons.
One may often wonder why she did not speak more about her contribution to his work. The answer lies in a letter Albert wrote her.
“You made me laugh when you started threatening me with your recollections. Have you ever considered, even just for a second, that nobody would ever pay attention to your says if the man you talked about had not accomplished something important. When someone is completely insignificant, there is nothing else to say to this person but to remain modest and silent. This is what I advise you to do.”
Mileva was the first to recognize Einstien’s genius. She nurtured him, helped him focus, collaborated with him, deliberately took a backseat, and we rewarded her for it by forgetting her contribution.
Was it always this way with women? Did ancient India have stories told by women? Did we acknowledge them in any way? It’s a difficult question to answer. One side of society will tell you that women have no place in Indian thought systems, and that’s why we cannot see many women in important roles in India. Another section will tell you that our past was golden and everything we are today resulted from invasions and tampering with our knowledge systems. They do have a very valid point. However, while Sanatan Dharma is eternal, its application has been different at different times in our society. Hence, I always see the truth as more nuanced. A beautiful video by my Guru helps me stay on this path.
Now, let me tell you a story from the Markandeya Purana about Queen Madalsa.
The Gift Madalsa Gave Her Sons
This section has been referenced from Madalasa Updesha article written by my wife Rashmi Sharma.Madalasa was the daughter of a Gandharva and the queen of the king, Ritdhwaja. He had rescued her from the netherworld, where a demon had kept her captive for years. It’s a long, winding tale with many dramatic events. You can read it in detail here.
After a few years into their marriage, Madalasa and Ritdhwaja were blessed with a baby boy. Taking the child in his arms, the king names him ‘Vikranta’ (the one with great valor and courage). On seeing him do this, Madalasa laughs mockingly. The king is bewildered by her attitude. Meanwhile, the newborn begins to cry. With the baby still cradled in her lap, Madalsa begins to croon a lullaby to him. Couched in her soft notes is the kernel of Vedanta knowledge. She points out the futility of a name in the transient human life. She reminds her baby that he should not cry or get associated with the name, which is just a tag for the body he has incarnated in. He is a pure soul. Madalasa expounds on how human suffering begins from naming and claiming things as one’s own. This powerful lullaby is known as Madalasa Upakhyana or Madalasa Updesha.
The next two sons born to Ritdhwaja and Madalasa were named Subahu (the one with beautiful arms) and Shatrumardana (the vanquisher of enemies). Whenever Ritdhwaja named his sons, Madalasa laughed in derision. The princes’ magnificent names were just empty words to her. Meanwhile, she continued to teach the Vedanta principles to her sons and taught them about dispassion and the illusory nature of life. They grew up with a strong spiritual core and detachment for desire and enjoyment. All three of them renounced the kingly life and moved to the forest.
At the birth of the fourth son, the king asked Madalasa to name the child. Quite nonchalantly, she named him “Alarka,” or a mad dog. With three princes already gone, King Ritdhwaja requested Madalsa to leave the fourth son for kinship. So, Madalsa trained him in statecraft and the duties of a king. Alarka grew up to be a righteous king while retaining a robust spiritual temperament. His life story is a sweet reminder of the fickleness of labels. Our names will never determine the people we will become; our efforts most certainly will.
Madalasa says to her crying son:
“You are pure, Enlightened, and spotless. Leave the illusion of the world and wake up from this deep slumber of delusion.”
My Child, you are Ever Pure! You do not have a name. A name is only an imaginary superimposition of you. This body made of five elements is not you nor do you belong to it. This being so, what can be a reason for your crying?
This story is such a beautiful example of women in ancient India possessing the highest knowledge known to humanity. I hope that as we work towards reviving Indic wisdom, we see hundreds and thousands of Madalsa’s emerging from within society.
References
https://blogs.scientificamerican.com/guest-blog/the-forgotten-life-of-einsteins-first-wife/
