From dyes to breakthrough therapies

Over more than a century, molecules developed here changed medicine. Researchers created therapies for inflammatory and cardiovascular diseases as well as cancer. They pioneered hormone research, contributed to the development of psychotherapeutic drugs and turned targeted cancer therapies into a scientific reality. What began in the late nineteenth century with synthetic dyes gradually evolved into one of the world’s most important pharmaceutical ecosystems. The story of Klybeck and St. Johann is therefore far more than a corporate history. It is a story of scientific perseverance, interdisciplinary collaboration, and the quiet conviction that even the most difficult medical problems can eventually be solved.

The chemical roots of pharmaceutical research Like so many things in Basel, this story began with color. In the late nineteenth century, synthetic dye chemistry was among Europe’s most advanced scientific disciplines. The discovery of aniline dyes triggered an industrial boom that transformed Basel into a center of chemical production. Companies such as Ciba, Geigy, and Sandoz initially focused on textile dyes derived from coal tar and developed extraordinary expertise in organic chemistry and industrial synthesis. What first appeared to be a purely industrial business soon laid the foundation for pharmaceutical research. Scientists realized that the same synthetic methods used to produce dyes could also be applied to biologically active molecules. Some dyes even showed antibacterial effects in biological tissues – an early indication that chemistry could directly influence disease processes. The transition from dye chemistry to medicine was gradual but profound. Early drugs were derived from natural substances extracted from plants or fungi. Soon, however, chemists began synthesizing molecules directly in the laboratory. By the beginning of the twentieth century, Basel’s chemical companies were already moving beyond industrial manufacturing toward pharmaceutical research. In St. Johann, Sandoz established its own research department during the First World War. Arthur Stoll, who studied at ETH Zurich, developed the drug Gynergen from ergot alkaloids, one of the company’s first successful medicines. Shortly afterward came Calcium-Sandoz, which became a commercial breakthrough and demonstrated that pharmaceutical research could become an independent core business. At the same time, Ciba expanded its biological and pharmacological research activities in Klybeck. What began in 1908 with only a handful of scientists and improvised laboratory equipment would later grow into one of the world’s most important pharmaceutical research centers.

Building a culture of research One defining feature of Basel’s pharmaceutical industry was its extraordinarily close connection to academia. Scientists moved easily between universities and industry. ETH Zurich, the University of Basel, and the pharmaceutical companies formed a tightly interconnected scientific ecosystem. Researchers collaborated across disciplines at a time when such interdisciplinary work was still far from common. This became particularly visible in hormone research during the interwar years. Ciba worked closely with Nobel Prize winners Leopold Ruzicka and Tadeus Reichstein in steroid and hormone research. These collaborations later led to important therapies such as Percorten and cortisone and established Basel as a center of endocrinology and pharmaceutical chemistry. At the same time, research infrastructure expanded rapidly. In Klybeck, Building 122 became a central hub for pharmaceutical research. Chemists, biologists, and pharmacologists increasingly worked side by side. This culture of collaboration later became one of the great strengths of Ciba-Geigy and Novartis. Yet the atmosphere within the laboratories themselves was just as important. Many researchers who worked in Klybeck later described a culture driven less by hierarchy than by scientific curiosity. Young scientists were encouraged to pursue difficult questions. Experienced researchers closely supported younger colleagues. Failure was seen as part of the scientific process. Martin Missbach, who joined Ciba-Geigy in 1990, later described how attractive this environment was for scientists interested in the intersection of chemistry and biology. “I was particularly fascinated by the interplay between chemistry and biology,” he later recalled. This openness toward difficult scientific questions became a hallmark of pharmaceutical research in Basel.

Voltaren and the age of modern therapeutics In the decades following the Second World War, pharmaceutical research increasingly became the strategic center of the companies. One of the most important breakthroughs of this era was Voltaren, the anti-inflammatory drug developed by Geigy scientist Alfred Sallmann. Although the discovery took place in Rosental rather than Klybeck or St. Johann, the story behind the medicine perfectly embodied Basel’s research culture. The development of Voltaren took more than ten years. As early as 1963, Sallmann enthusiastically sketched the molecular structure on a napkin. But transforming that idea into a safe and effective medicine required enormous patience. At one point, the project nearly collapsed. Management became concerned about side effects and considered terminating development. Sallmann’s supervisor, Ruedi Pfister, eventually tested the drug on himself to demonstrate its tolerability and save the project. Voltaren later became one of the world’s most successful anti-inflammatory medicines – and demonstrated that medical breakthroughs rarely emerge through linear progress. They require persistence, courage, and institutional support for scientific risk-taking. That same mindset would prove decisive once again several decades later.

Voltaren was one of the company’s first blockbusters with annual sales exceeding 1 billion Swiss francs.

The merger that changed cancer research In 1970, Ciba and Geigy merged to form Ciba-Geigy AG – the so-called “Basel marriage.” The merger strengthened not only commercial operations and market presence, but also scientific research. New talent arrived in Klybeck. Investments in biology and molecular medicine increased. Cancer research in particular gained growing importance. Yet during the 1970s and early 1980s, oncology remained an extraordinarily difficult field. Most cancer therapies were toxic and poorly targeted. For many leukemia patients, a diagnosis still amounted to a death sentence. It was in this context that Alex Matter began pursuing a radically different approach. Matter, a physician and biochemist at Ciba-Geigy, believed that certain cancers could be treated through targeted intervention in molecular signaling pathways. Many colleagues considered the idea unrealistic. Protein kinases – the “switches” of cells – were thought too complex to be influenced pharmacologically. But Matter remained convinced. His research focused on chronic myeloid leukemia (CML), a disease caused by an abnormal fusion protein later known as BCR-ABL. The challenge was to identify a molecule capable of blocking precisely this disease-causing kinase without interfering with other cellular processes. To solve this problem, Matter turned to a young chemist named Jürg Zimmermann. Jürg Zimmermann and the creation of Glivec Zimmermann’s life story is almost archetypal for Basel’s scientific culture. Raised on a farm in Adelboden, he originally wanted to become a football player. Because his family lacked the financial means to send him to college, he first completed an apprenticeship as a laboratory technician before later studying chemistry at ETH Zurich under Albert Eschenmoser and Dieter Seebach. From an early stage, he was drawn to difficult scientific questions. His diploma thesis tackled one of the biggest questions imaginable: How does life emerge from simple molecules? Scientifically, the project failed, but it deeply shaped his way of thinking. “The time I spent trying to solve the problem was tremendously fascinating,” he later recalled.

Jürg Zimmermann

When Alex Matter asked whether he wanted to work on kinase inhibitors, Zimmermann immediately understood the scale of the challenge. “The problem was finding a chemical key capable of switching off the disease-causing kinase without affecting the other switches,” Zimmermann later explained. The work became an obsession. Zimmermann spent years synthesizing and testing molecules, often working weekends. Eventually, he developed STI571, the molecule later launched as Glivec. The significance of this discovery can hardly be overstated. Unlike conventional chemotherapy, Glivec targeted the molecular cause of leukemia directly. The drug blocked the defective BCR-ABL kinase while largely sparing healthy cells. The clinical results were spectacular. Patients who previously had almost no chance of survival suddenly experienced dramatic remissions. Around 95 percent responded positively to treatment. For many, leukemia changed from a fatal disease into a manageable chronic condition. But the importance of Glivec extended far beyond leukemia itself. For the first time, the drug demonstrated that cancer could be treated through highly precise molecular therapies. Decades of research into signaling pathways, genetics, and kinase biology were validated. Modern precision oncology was born. “For me, the development of Glivec was almost a miracle,” Zimmermann later said, “because it showed that an idea I had developed could actually change people’s lives.” The breakthrough transformed cancer research worldwide and established Novartis as one of the world’s leading oncology companies.

A new era of innovation The development of Glivec coincided with a period of profound transformation. In 1996, Ciba-Geigy and Sandoz merged to form Novartis. Investments in research increased dramatically. By 2020, annual research spending had reached nearly nine billion US dollars. At the same time, scientific work itself changed fundamentally. Digitalization greatly facilitated collaboration. Data could be shared between teams in real time. Chemists, biologists, and clinicians worked together more closely than ever before. Missbach later described how dramatically research culture had evolved. “In the past, chemists guarded their lab notebooks almost jealously,” he said. “Today, everything is much more open.” The research buildings themselves also changed. Facilities such as Research Building K-136 in Klybeck were specifically designed to encourage spontaneous encounters. Offices, laboratories, and cafeterias were arranged to facilitate communication among scientists. With the creation of the Novartis Campus in St. Johann, this concept was developed even further. Under the masterplan of architect Vittorio Magnago Lampugnani, the former industrial site became a Campus of Knowledge designed to promote openness, communication and creativity. Scientists from a wide range of disciplines – and increasingly also external partners – worked in close proximity. Architecture itself became part of the innovation strategy.

New therapeutic horizons Over time, Novartis expanded its research far beyond traditional small-molecule medicines, which included blockbusters such as Diovan, which was developed in Klybeck. This was followed by advances in immunology, and neuroscience. More recently, Novartis has invested heavily in gene therapies, radioligand therapies, cell therapies, and RNA-based medicines. The scientific complexity of these technologies exceeds anything the early dye chemists of the nineteenth century could ever have imagined. And yet something remained constant. The determination to tackle difficult problems. The interplay between chemistry and biology. And the conviction that scientific progress is only possible through collaboration. Even setbacks remain part of the process. Missbach points out that despite the failure of a major Alzheimer’s project after years of intensive research, entirely new approaches are already being pursued. Pharmaceutical innovation remains a risky business. Most projects fail. Breakthroughs are rare. But when they succeed, they change millions of lives. The legacy of Klybeck and St. Johann Today, Novartis has withdrawn its research activities from Klybeck. Yet the scientific legacy of the site remains immense. From early hormone therapies to anti-inflammatory medicines and targeted cancer therapies, Klybeck and St. Johann helped shape modern medicine. Equally important, however, was the research culture that emerged there. Again and again, scientists who worked on the sites emphasize the importance of mentoring, openness, and intellectual curiosity. Jürg Zimmermann himself later became a mentor to younger researchers. Perhaps this is the most important lesson of Basel’s pharmaceutical history. Medicines are often perceived simply as products – Voltaren, Glivec, Diovan, Gynergen. Yet behind every molecule stand years of failed experiments, laboratory discussions, courage, patience, and collaboration. The path from dye chemistry to the modern life sciences industry was never predetermined. It was created by generations of researchers willing to push beyond established boundaries and pursue difficult ideas. And that is precisely why the story of Klybeck and St. Johann still resonates today. Not because it is a story about buildings or corporations. But because it is a story about people who believed that science could change lives. And ultimately proved that it could.