Tao Yun-Kui, originally from Wujin, Jiangsu Province, was born on November 30, 1904. After finishing Nankai High School, he went on to study humanities at Nankai University, from which he did not graduate. Two years later, he went abroad to study anthropology at Berlin University, and received a Ph.D. six years later. Upon his return to China, he was recruited by many, but chose to work at the Academia Sinica due to his passion for research.
After the anti-Japanese war ended, Tao served as a sociology professor at Yunnan University and National Southwestern Associated University in Yunnan, and concurrently the director of the Border Studies Lab, the Institute of Humanities at Nankai University. He contributed greatly to the investigation and research on the people and culture indigenous to China’s southwestern border.
When the publication Frontier Affairs was launched, Tao became its special editor, and wrote articles, some of whose titles were “The Necessity of Training Frontier Personnel,” “The Past and Future of Research on Yunnan’s Aboriginal Ethnic Groups,” “On the Relationship Between the Hans Living in Border Areas and Local Development,” “The Yunnan Baiyi People’s Relationship with the Government, Past and Present,” and “Gift Exchanges between the Burmese Imperial Family and Pacification Commissioner of Cheli, Yunnan in the Sixteenth Century.”
Sadly, Tao Yun-Kui died of relapsing fever on January 26, 1944, having caught the disease only three weeks earlier. He was forty years old, and survived by his wife Lin Ting-Yu, and a one-month-old daughter. Ceng Zhao-Lun once wrote, “What Yunkui had was not an incurable illness. Had he been financially capable of seeking medical treatment earlier, he could have recovered for sure. But he was so poor that he barely had enough to cover basic living expenses, and that’s why he kept putting off the chance to go see a doctor until it was too late.” Ceng believed that Tao’s death was not due to sickness, but poverty. Luo Xin-Tian, who was a teacher and friend of Tao’s and immensely grieved by Tao’s death, wrote, “Of all people, you shouldn’t have died… … but you did. Why is that? Is it because we have reached the extreme of our impoverished lives? Because you had no money to go see a doctor? Because our society is overshadowed by primitive ideologies? Or is it because our doctors are not skillful or ethical enough? Exactly what is the reason? Please tell me.”
News of Tao’s sudden and early death came as a huge blow to his family, friends, and colleagues. His wife was so stricken by grief that she nearly committed suicide. The academic world mourned the loss of an ambitious and hardworking scholar, and regretted the fact that all of the materials that Tao had gathered over the years had not been able to be published. Ceng Zhao-Lun lamented, “To lose such an outstanding scholar takes merely a second, but to produce another takes decades.”
Academics
Tao Yun-Kui is considered to belong to the third generation of (young) scholars of sociology, having studied abroad and obtained his Ph.D. in Germany during his earlier years. Also belonging to the “young group” was Li Shu-Qing, who observed that a common trait among the people in this group was their lack of fear to question the old ideas and to create new ones. Li praised Tao by saying he “had a firm academic foundation and was very devoted to his work, and if he hadn’t died so soon, he would have no doubt become an accomplished scholar on the people and culture of border regions.” In his earlier days, Tao studied biology, but later turned to physical anthropology. Amidst the turmoil of the anti-Japanese war, he went with the flow and eventually arrived at Yunnan, and from there his academic focus also shifted from anthropometry, which requires operating equipment and making measurements, to socio-cultural surveys, which place more emphasis on observation, recording, and studying language.
This shift of focus began with Tao’s employment at Yunnan University. During the war, Tao Yun-Kui joined the faculty at Yunnan University as head of the Department of Sociology. At the time, the department was only one year old, and although Wu Wen-Zao had set the foundation for it, during the following trial period more difficult tasks were waiting to be completed. Administrative duties were not exactly Tao’s specialty, but he devoted himself fully to the development of the department, and gained positive results. Qu Tong-Zu once said, “If not for Yun-Kui’s efforts, the Department of Sociology would never have become as accomplished as it is today.”
It was this extended stay in Yunnan that redirected Tao’s academic path. Although he had studied physical anthropology in Germany, and others in the academic world viewed him as a Chinese physical anthropologist, he later began to conduct his research from a social and cultural point of view. Qu Tong-Zu thought that this was because “unlike many scientists, Tao was very open-minded, and not only did he work hard on his own subject, he was eager to learn about other subjects as well, and was accepting of different opinions. What made him turn from studying physiology to society and culture was his thirst for more knowledge.” Qu and Tao had both been at the Department of Sociology at Yunnan University, and although Qu only knew Tao for three years, he did actually see Tao on a daily basis. “During those three years I had many opportunities to talk with Yun-Kui, and got to know him very well, so I could clearly understand the transition in his academic career,” Qu remarked. “All those years he rarely raised questions regarding physical anthropology, and expressed more interest in cultural anthropology and sociology instead, especially topics related to rituals, magic, and religion in general.” In the summer of 1943, Qu invited Tao to teach a physical anthropology course, but Tao refused, saying that he was already tired of the subject. After refusing Qu’s offer several times, Tao finally settled for a course on the sociology of China’s southwestern borderland. It was then that Qu realized that Tao’s interests had already switched to social and culture studies. From then on, Tao and Qu often discussed issues regarding shamanism and religion together. While Qu took a historical approach that was different from Tao’s social anthropological point of view, they both believed that historical and modern sources should be integrated in order to show the bigger picture, including the development of events and geographic locations.
No matter which field of study he was in, Tao Yun-Kui always approached academics with discipline, perseverance, and a fiery passion. From this we can see that Tao’s sincere passion for pursuing truth and interest in academics went beyond desire for fame and fortune. Tao’s passionate and careful way of approaching academics can be seen in several examples. Li Shu-Qing once said, “Yun-Kui is a studious person. He is deeply dedicated, and puts a lot of thought into his research work.” Ceng Zhaolun told a story that further exemplifies Tao’s laboriousness. He said, “At the beginning of last year, ten of us went to lecture in Dali. During the few days off for Lunar New Year, most of us used the opportunity to go sightseeing at Yunnan’s famous tourist spots, but not Yun-Kui. He went off on his own to a fishing village to investigate the lives of the fishermen. He even wanted to spend Lunar New Year in a local villager’s house, but was not able to because local customs did not permit it.” Tao’s love for academic research revealed itself immediately whenever he met people with the same enthusiasm. Gao Hua-Nian recalled that during his first encounter with Tao, they spent over an hour discussing issues on China’s border regions. Afterwards, Tao walked Gao to the front gate of Yunnan University, and there he suddenly grabbed Gao’s hands and said to him, “Work work work! If we work hard for eight years, ten years…we’ll definitely be able to accomplish something! We have all the resources we could ever want, right here in Yunnan!” Gao Hua-Nian had once spent more than two months with Tao at the Yangwu Valley, and so he had a deeper understanding of Tao as a person. He described Tao as a “passionate, impatient, but natural anthropologist,” and a “scholar who cares only about work, not fame or fortune.” Gao and Tao worked in the same lab, and both had great hopes for their academic careers. Once, for the sake of funding for the lab, they listened to the words of a fortune teller, who turned out to be a fraud. Together, the two of them would also criticize those who only talk and take no action when it came to issues related to China’s border regions or linguistic anthropology. After Tao Yun-Kui passed away, Gao Hua-Nian said sadly, “Before Mr. Tao fell ill, we planned to go work in Guizhou this summer. Guizhou is a major base for the Miao people, and Tao had planned to study their copper drums while I wanted to study the Miao language. But who could have thought that he would leave us so soon? Now that Mr. Tao is gone, who would go to the Miao region with me? Who would be willing to go to that desolate place to study copper drums?” Gao also pointed out that during the two years that they spent together, there were times when they quarreled, but those arguments were for the better future of their research lab, and those debates were not meant to attack each other, but to find the ultimate truth. They would argue and squabble passionately, trying to confute the other person’s argument. This enthusiasm persisted even when Tao was sick in bed for the ninth day and nearly unconscious with relapsing fever.
In contrast to his passion for research, Tao’s attitude towards writing and publishing was cautious, conservative, and cool-headed. From all the data about Yunnan border peoples he had been collecting for more than ten years, only parts of the written reports were published and no photographs were published at all. Ceng Zhao-Lun used to advise him to spend some effort to organize his work, and share it with the rest of the academic world. Tao replied that he did not plan to do that until after the war, due to the fact that printing costs were too high during the war, and that no one skilled enough to produce high-quality prints was available. On top of that, although Tao had gathered a significant amount of data, he found it too scattered and not very valuable. He had planned to dedicate two years in the future to writing a general book on the Yunnan border peoples, but his sudden death ended that possibility. While at the Academia Sinica, Tao had obtained much data related to physical anthropology from southwestern China, but his cautious attitude prevented him from publishing his works sooner. Therefore, Li Shu-Qing once remarked, “Of all the ‘young’ scholars, he is one of the more conservative ones.” When Tao suddenly passed away without having published the valuable research results he had accumulated over the years, unfortunately, not one person was able to complete the work that he left behind.
Tao’s Personal Conduct
Despite his seriousness towards academics, in the company of coworkers and friends Tao comes off as guileless and earnest. Qu Tong-Zu said, “Yun-Kui was a very interesting guy, naïve and humorous at the same time. Whenever he spoke, his eyes would sparkle behind his glasses, and his mouth would twitch constantly. He stammered sometimes, and words would roll out slowly from his mouth, hidden behind a cloud of smoke.” Ju also said that Tao “was not good at administrative duties, but everyone who had worked with him was touched by his enthusiasm for academics and sincerity towards others.” Tao was also very kind and generous to his juniors, despite being financially challenged himself. Gao Hua-Nian once wrote in memory of Tao: “I remember a period of time when I’d still be hungry after eating what the school provided, and so I would drop by his house practically every night to fill up my stomach. Now I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Despite the fact that Tao had studied biology and physical anthropology, he always treated sociology seriously, and he was learned in the arts as well. He had the ability to admire and critic music, scenery, human expressions, and even the structure of objects. While close friends of Tao’s already knew that he possessed such ability, from time to time his other friends and colleagues would be surprised. Ceng Zhao-Lun once wrote a story:
After we left Dali, on one occasion a few of us went to Xizhou together. During lunch at a place called Dong Village, the host brought out many precious books of ancient calligraphy that he had collected in Hong Kong. Yun-Kui surprised everyone by offering sound critiques on the authenticity of the various brush strokes. From there we realized that he was an artist. In fact, when he was a student, Yun-Kkui had wanted to study writing. He did not expect to become a scientist one day. The host’s collection of calligraphy made him nostalgic for his younger days.
From various writings, we are able to see that Tao’s life, however brief, did indeed shine brightly, and that Tao was a scholar who was admired by others both at work and in his private life. Even today, sixty years later, we are still able to sense Tao Yun-Kui’s determination, sincerity, courage, and passion, as if he is still somewhere ahead of us, leading us forward.
Notes:
Written references used in this article are taken from Frontier Affairs, Vol. 3 No. 9, “In memory of Mr. Tao Yun-Kui, Special Edition,” first published in September 1944.