Wang Zhao, A Remarkable Figure
Author: Yun Wang
If we were to describe Wang Zhao in today’s terms, he could be considered the most refined figure in the National Language Movement.
Wang Zhao, born in 1859, had the courtesy name Xiaohang and the style name Luzhong Jushi. Later in life, he was also known by the name Shui Dong. He was from Ninghe, Hebei. The first remarkable aspect of Wang Zhao is his family background. His grandfather was a military general of the Qing dynasty who fought alongside soldiers during the First Opium War and was killed in battle. In a fit of rage, the enemy mutilated his body after death. Due to his bravery and patriotism, his grandfather was posthumously honored with the highest title granted to Qing officials, and Wang Zhao’s family was awarded wealth and privilege. When Wang Zhao was a child, his father committed suicide, and he was raised by his uncle.
From a young age, Wang Zhao exhibited exceptional traits. At the age of 11, he once stayed awake all night observing the stars. After starting school, he developed a keen interest in reading translated works and current affairs books, which led his relatives and fellow villagers to believe he had a “demonic aura.” Later, he passed the provincial-level imperial examination, became a successful candidate in the imperial examination, and entered the Hanlin Academy, where he served as a principal official in the Ministry of Rites. In 1897, at the age of 38, Wang Zhao achieved his first major accomplishment by founding a primary school in Lutai, marking the beginning of the establishment of schools in local prefectures and counties. The following year, while serving in Beijing, Wang Zhao, along with Xu Shichang, Li Yuying, and others, founded the No. 1 Primary School for the Eight Banner and Directly Administered Regions (later becoming Ji Fu Middle School, Yan Ji Middle School, and now Beijing No. 14 Middle School). In his report to the General Secretariat, he wrote, “It is called No. 1 with the aim of later expanding to No. 2, No. 3, and even to tens of thousands, the more the better.” The ministers criticized his words as grandiose. Wang Zhao’s establishment of the primary school was his second remarkable achievement.
The third remarkable aspect of Wang Zhao’s life occurred during the Guangxu Emperor’s New Policies reforms. He submitted a memorial to the throne, recommending that the emperor take the Empress Dowager abroad, starting with Japan, and that a “Ministry of Education” be established. The Minister of Rites, Xu Yingkui, refused to relay his memorial, and Wang Zhao confronted him directly. Enraged, Xu Yingkui submitted an impeachment to the emperor, accusing Wang Zhao of harboring ill intentions by suggesting that the imperial family travel abroad. Surprisingly, the reform-minded Guangxu Emperor dismissed six officials from the Ministry of Rites instead and rewarded Wang Zhao for his “commendable bravery and fortitude” by promoting him. If it weren’t for the political upheaval that followed, Wang Zhao might have become one of Guangxu’s emissaries abroad.
Wang Zhao’s fourth remarkable achievement occurred during his exile in Japan as a dissident. He realized early on that the ignorance of Chinese peasants was largely due to illiteracy. While in Japan, he immersed himself in research and completed a small, thin, thread-bound book titled Guanhua Combined Phonetic Alphabet. In it, he identified 62 basic components of Chinese characters to represent sounds, creating a phonetic system to show the pronunciation of an entire character. He believed, “Our Chinese characters are the first creation of Heaven and Earth… they reveal the essence and mysteries of the universe, far superior to other languages. Yet, despite the crudeness of the world’s various languages, they are understood by everyone in their own countries because their written and spoken languages are consistent… However, in our country, fewer than one in a hundred people can understand the written language… Scholars and the common people live in two different worlds, and crucial knowledge cannot be passed on, resulting in ignorance of politics, geography, and the relationship between rulers and the ruled.” Wang Zhao hoped to solve the longstanding problem of misunderstanding between the East and the West, which had been exacerbated since the arrival of missionaries, by reducing the time and effort spent learning the complex Chinese characters. He later observed that literacy experiments in Taiwan by the Japanese were relatively successful, which boosted his confidence. In the spring of 1900, Wang Zhao secretly returned to China with his Guanhua Alphabet.
To promote his alphabet, Wang Zhao took an unusual path. Instead of returning directly to his hometown, he detoured to Shanghai to visit an old friend, Timothy Richard, possibly because he saw him as the safest and most accepting person. He then sought out advice from another influential figure, Lau Nai Hsüan, whose opinion he valued. Finally, he settled with a distant relative, Yan Xiu, in Tianjin, assuming the alias Zhao Shiming. While in Tianjin, Yan Xiu recommended he study a rhyme book titled Yinyun Chanwei, published during the reign of Emperor Kangxi. This book reformed the old method of phonetic notation and incorporated Manchu pronunciations, which provided a practical approach to phonetically annotate Mandarin using compound sounds. Wang Zhao used this method to revise his alphabet, introducing a new version with 62 characters.
In October 1901, Wang Zhao took the risk of returning to war-torn Beijing to meet Li Hongzhang, who held significant power at the time and had witnessed the fiercest conflicts between China and the Western powers. Gaining Li’s support would have provided Wang with a strong ally within the government. Unfortunately, Li Hongzhang was already gravely ill and sent Yu Shimei to meet Wang in his place. After Wang passionately argued that “the government must prioritize elementary education for the common people,” Yu Shimei responded with bureaucratic indifference. Wang Zhao left in anger, rebuking Yu for “not speaking the language of the people.” Without government support, Wang Zhao rented a house in Dongcheng’s Biaobei Hutong in 1903, where he established a private school to promote his Guanhua Alphabet. He printed his book using woodblock movable type, and while his disciple Wang Pu taught the students, Wang Zhao listened behind a screen. Yuan Shikai’s eldest son, Keding, obtained the book and used it to teach his younger brother, Kewen. Though still very young, Kewen was able to grasp the content without a teacher, much to Yuan Shikai’s delight.
In 1904, as an accomplice of Kang Youwei and Liang Qichao, Wang Zhao was imprisoned, marking another remarkable chapter in his life. His imprisonment came after he voluntarily surrendered himself. There were two reasons for this: first, his old friend Shen Jin had been arrested and beaten to death for being part of the reformist New Party, and Wang Zhao’s phonetic alphabet was gaining popularity in the capital, making it hard for him to remain hidden. Second, because he couldn’t publish under his real name, many swindlers had pirated his work and profited from it, which enraged him. Unable to tolerate plagiarism and fraud, he turned himself in. After his surrender, Na Tong reported the case to Prince Qing Yikuang, who consulted Empress Dowager Cixi. She, in turn, asked Emperor Guangxu for his opinion, and he said, “Spare him from execution.” Wang Zhao was sentenced to life imprisonment. However, just two months later, the Empress Dowager, in an effort to ease tensions with foreign powers, pardoned all reformist members of the Hundred Days’ Reform except Kang Youwei and Liang Qichao. Thus, Wang Zhao’s prison stint came to an end, and he was released.
After being freed, Wang Zhao resumed his work. He established the Phonetic Mandarin Publishing Society in Baoding and moved it to Beijing in 1906, where he widely published books and newspapers on his alphabet. There’s an interesting anecdote from this period: Empress Dowager Cixi, still wary of Wang Zhao due to his past involvement in the reformist movement, secretly dispatched an imperial physician to his phonetic school at the Great Buddha Temple, disguised as a student, to spy on him. Wang Zhao’s landlord, Chong Lu, who managed the Banner Court, advised him, “Why not avoid trouble and keep the peace?” As a result, in the prefaces of his books, Wang Zhao often praised the Yinyun Chanwei authorized by the Emperor and frequently included references to the “Old Empress Dowager” or “Old Buddha” in his textbooks. Only then was Cixi’s suspicion eased. During the time when Yuan Shikai and Zhang Zhidong were in office, Yuan Shikai, a strong advocate of promoting Wang Zhao’s phonetic alphabet, held him in high regard, but Wang Zhao refused to meet him. It wasn’t out of fear; in fact, Wang had once met with Prince Su Shanqi, urging him to support Emperor Guangxu when the Empress Dowager was gravely ill, warning him, “If you wait until the Empress Dowager passes, it will be too late.” As it turned out, Guangxu indeed died one day before the Empress Dowager. Wang Zhao’s foresight was nothing short of extraordinary.
When the Xuantong Emperor came to power, the political landscape shifted once again. The Ministry of Education at the time disapproved of phonetic or simplified characters, with some believing this was due to southern officials opposing the use of Beijing Mandarin as the official language. Others argued that the use of phonetic systems might lead to the extinction of traditional Chinese culture, which was pure nonsense. However, Prince Regent Zaifeng took these concerns seriously. As a result, Wang Zhao’s Phonetic Mandarin Newspaper was shut down, and the teaching of his alphabet was strictly prohibited. Wang Zhao retreated to Jiangsu and began a life of seclusion. Did this mark the end of his lifelong struggle to enlighten the people through his phonetic system?
Not long after, another regime change took place! In the second year of the Republic of China, Wang Zhao was appointed as a member of the Committee for the Unification of Pronunciation by the Ministry of Education, representing Jiangsu. President Yuan Shikai had Deputy Minister of Education Dong Hongyi invite Wang Zhao for a discussion, but Wang replied, “I am a private individual, and it wouldn’t be proper to interfere with busy officials. I came from the south purely for social matters, not official business. If I were to meet with the president, people would say that Wang Xiaohang has ingratiated himself with the government. Wouldn’t that be disgraceful?” What an attitude!
When Wang Zhao arrived in Beijing from Nanjing, he was displeased to learn that the “unification of pronunciation” issue was being handled by a specialized department within the Ministry of Education. In his view, the promotion of vernacular education was a matter of social education, not an academic issue to be confined to a specialized department focused on phonology. After reading the Proceedings of the Pronunciation Unification Conference drafted by Chairman Wu Jingheng, Wang Zhao gave a terse four-character critique: “Absurd and nonsensical.” He was also unhappy with the imbalance in regional representation among the committee members. Jiangsu and Zhejiang had many representatives, while some provinces, citing long distances and travel costs, didn’t send anyone at all, or simply appointed substitutes. This imbalance reflected the varying conditions across the provinces, and the effectiveness of the conference under these circumstances was predictable.
According to the proceedings, the conference was supposed to first approve the pronunciation of characters, but before doing so, they had to agree on a tool for annotating the pronunciation: the phonetic alphabet. The issue of “voiced consonants” became the focal point of debate. Wang Baorong argued, “For southerners, life is unlivable without voiced consonants and entering tones.” As vice-chairman, Wang Zhao explained the original purpose of creating a new alphabet, which was to promote vernacular literacy and broaden education. In fact, the debate over voiced consonants was essentially a dispute between Beijing Mandarin and southern dialects. Chairman Wu Jingheng even declared, “Voiced consonants are robust and powerful; they are the essence of China.” To illustrate, he sang a piece in the Yiyang opera style. This debate dragged on for over 30 days without resolution.
Wang Zhao once again did something extraordinary. He gathered more than 30 representatives from over ten northern provinces as well as from Sichuan, Yunnan, Fujian, and Guangdong to hold a separate meeting at Shenggong Hall, located southwest of the Ministry of Education. He advocated, “If we include 13 voiced consonants in the alphabet, it would make the pronunciation of Suzhou and Zhejiang dialects the national standard, and our descendants across the country will face endless difficulties. Although we share the same opinion and our numbers are relatively balanced, if anyone is intimidated when it comes to voting, we will surely fail.” He also proposed that the voting should be done by province, not by individual representatives. This caused an uproar among the representatives from Jiangsu and Zhejiang. Wang Rongbao shouted, “If each province has one vote, all ancient Chinese books will be discarded!” Wang Zhao retorted sharply, “Are you suggesting that no one outside of Jiangsu and Zhejiang is literate?” This left Wang Rongbao speechless, and he stormed out of the meeting in anger. Wu Jingheng, the chairman, delayed the vote for three days.
Wang Zhao did not back down. He led the northern provincial representatives to bid farewell to Dong Hongyi, stating, “We, the out-of-province delegates, have intruded upon this ‘Suzhou and Zhejiang Pronunciation Unification Conference’ for many days and apologize for the inconvenience!” As a result, on the same day, it was decided that the voting would be done by province, and the decision was made to exclude voiced consonants from the phonetic alphabet. This laid the foundation for later establishing Beijing Mandarin as the standard national pronunciation. Afterward, the conference continued to vote on the pronunciation of 6,500 characters in this manner, one by one.
During the conference, Wang Zhao, overworked, suffered from a hemorrhoidal flare-up and bled to his ankles while seated. He also coughed up blood and was eventually unable to attend the meetings daily. There was also a humorous incident during this time: one day, Wang Rongbao was conversing with another representative in the Jiangsu dialect, and they mentioned a “rickshaw” (in Jiangsu dialect). Wang Zhao, misunderstanding the term as an insult, angrily shouted, “You called me a bastard, so I’ll beat you, bastard!” Wang Rongbao quickly dodged him and never attended the meetings again.
After this conference, both Chairman Wu Jingheng and Vice Chairman Wang Zhao resigned. However, the most important outcome of the conference was the first unification of pronunciation across the country. Although the phonetic alphabet ultimately adopted was the invention of Zhang Binglin and not Wang Zhao’s Mandarin Alphabet, Wang Zhao’s invention pioneered the idea of using phonetic symbols to teach literacy and popularize education.
In his later years, when Duan Qirui was in power, Wang Zhao was invited to join his advisory staff, but Wang resumed his reclusive life instead. He built the Shui Dong Cottage within the Ma Family Courtyard inside Deshengmen and began referring to himself as “Shui Dong” in his later years. He continued to enjoy writing and engaging in debates. Throughout his life, Wang despised falsehoods and was known for speaking the truth, regardless of the consequences. Even in his seventies, he befriended Hu Shi, earning Hu Shi’s deep respect.
Wang Zhao was a pioneer and practitioner of the National Language Movement. Although others, particularly in the south, also developed phonetic systems or symbols for dialects around his time, most were focused on practical applications. Wang Zhao, however, was driven by a grand ambition. Not only did he create a systematic phonetic alphabet, but he also worked tirelessly for its dissemination and the promotion of education. He spared no effort and faced many hardships in his pursuit. He was a rebel, but isn’t social progress precisely fueled by such rebellion and questioning?
References:
Li Jinxi. A Historical Outline of the National Language Movement. Commercial Press.
Jing Tsu. Kingdom of Characters. Translated by Lin Hua, CITIC Publishing Group.