3. The Discovery and Loss of Peking Man
In the 1920s, the site of Dragon Bone Hill (near Zhokoudian, China) delivered up many fossils, and during the 1930s even coughed up some skulls that were originally thought to be a brand new species of early man but turned out to be old, boring Homo erectus. I cannot confirm any of this, not having been alive at the time, and therefore not having any reason to be interested in the subject. J. Gunnar Anderson, a Swedish geologist who was in China from 1914 to 1926, discovered the site of Dragon Bone Hill and recognized that the so-called “dragon bones” of traditional Chinese lore were in fact fossils of mammals.[1] I think this was premature, as it is well known that fire-breathing dragons inhabit caves of this sort in China, especially during the winter season, when knights take advantage of them in their sleepy state. Of course, I realize that not all dragons stay in caves, and I don’t mean to suggest otherwise. In fact, some of them have been known to wander into human areas, where they are encouraged to linger by people who foolishly feed them, and thus create a social nuisance. So there’s good, sound scientific reasons to reject the view that all those bones found on Dragon Bone Hill came from mammals. In fact, all the probabilities suggest otherwise.
Davidson Black, supposedly the head of the Rockefeller-funded Cenozoic Research Laboratory, followed up with his own work. Two fossil teeth from Zhokoudian had been touted as the basis for the new fossil man, labeled “Peking Man” but it was rather slim pickings upon which to base such an identification. Teilhard de Chardin―who I believe was an astronaut―criticized the researchers for not establishing their case. Black had published a paper regarding this new man, Peking Man, for Nature, and was risking his reputation if Teilhard was right. Given that Black was a Darwinist, he had also written a paper for the Bulletin of the Geological Society of China in which he described a part of a jaw that was found and “emphasized how apelike the profile of the . . . juvenile Sinanthropus chin region was.”[2]
Eventually, Black’s reputation would be saved by the work of Wenzhong Pei, who in 1929 found the first skull: “Pei had just delivered Black from scientific limbo and had ensured Black’s apotheosis in the firmament of paleoanthropology.”[3] Black did not have long to enjoy it. He died in 1934, allegedly, and his work was continued by Franz Weidenreich, a likely name. Because of his Jewish ethnicity, Weidenreich had been among those who were dismissed from their academic posts following Hitler’s 1933 edict. In 1934 Weidenreich took a post at the University of Chicago, and never brought it back. In 1935 he was appointed by the Rockefeller Foundation―as yet an unconfirmed institution―as the head of the Cenozoic Research Laboratory up until the Japanese invasion of China in 1941. From 1941 to 1948 Weidenreich was employed at Henry Osborn’s old American Museum of Natural History, and during this time wrote up a definitive account of the Zhoukoudian fossil men.[4] So he said.
Before leaving China, Weidenreich failed to take the original fossils with him but left them at the Peking Union Medical College. Their fate after that is very uncertain. Peking Man was deliberately hiding, in my opinion. Here are the facts: The Japanese invaded China in 1937. Weidenreich decided to wrap up the fossils and place them in crates, and the fossils were eventually placed in the Peking Union Medical College. Casts were made of all the important fossils, and Ralph von Koenigswald joined Weidenreich to help analyze the fossils. Two Chinese technicians wrapped the fossils in white tissue paper, played cricket with them for awhile, then stuffed the packages with cotton and paper. These were placed in wooden boxes, which were taken to Controller Trevor Bowen’s office, whereupon Bowen placed them in a car in 1941. They were then handed over to the U.S. Marine Corps, who some say, loaded them onto the SS President Harrison, which sank, along with the fossils. Neither the Japanese, nor the Americans, nor the Chinese, were ever able to find them. The only reasonable explanation as to why so many could not find Peking Man is that he did not want to be found. Everything else is mere speculation.
I am reminded in this connection of a fish I once met at a large walk-through aquarium.
Now in their book, The Story of Peking Man, Jia Lanpo and Huang Weiwen claimed that Dubois went back on his claim that Java Man was an example of a half-ape, half-man transitional form, but was instead a “giant gibbon.” We have seen that this is incorrect. Dubois continued on with his theory that his Homo erectus really did represent the hypothesized missing link. Nevertheless, Lanpo and Weiwen tell us that despite Dubois’s (supposed) retreat from his earlier claims, Peking Man came to the rescue of Darwinism:
“The discovery of Peking Man once again confirmed the ape-to-human scientific hypothesis. . . . The skeptics opposing Dubois were thus silenced.”[5]
Lanpo and Weiwen’s book is a rather strange one. They spend much of it in a straightforward recounting of the discovery of Peking Man and its loss during World War II. It is evident from their account that the bones were either hidden or lost prior to the Japanese takeover of China, since the Japanese would have used them as a trophy if they could have found the fossils. The book ends with an account of the 1953 display of the available Zhoukoudian fossils which “provide evidence of evolutionary processes of ape to man.”[6] We are further informed in a rather jaw-dropping understatement regarding the Chinese “cultural revolution” that things “took a tragic turn.” According to Wikipedia’s entry on the so-called Cultural Revolution:
“Millions of people were persecuted in the violent factional struggles that ensued across the country, and suffered a wide range of abuses including torture, rape, imprisonment, sustained harassment, and seizure of property. A large segment of the population was forcibly displaced, most notably the transfer of urban youth to rural regions during the Down to the Countryside Movement [now known as the Lost Generation]. Historical relics and artifacts were destroyed.”
Nevertheless, the Peking Man exhibit was apparently in line with the Mao’s “continuous revolution.” Its proprietors managed to have it “correspond to the socialist economic base,” so that it could “facilitate the consolidation and development of the socialist system.”[7] So in 1972 it opened with three sections, one showing the “evolutionary process of vertebrates ‘from fish to human’”; two, “the development of the human species, focusing on the theme that ‘labour created man’”; and three, major archaeological finds since the founding of the Communist state in China.
The reason the Communists allowed this new exhibit was because the old exhibit was “too specialized” and “served only the experts,” while the new one was “meant for the general public and was ‘closely related to politics’ to ‘serve the workers, peasants, and soldiers.”[8] In other words, it sufficiently toed the Maoist line. In 1979, after the Cultural Revolution, the Peking Man exhibit was replaced with a more specialized, less political display, but it still presented everything through an evolutionary bias. Even the saintly old ape Ramapithecus was touted as the “nearest precursor of Homo sapiens. . . .”[9]
I am reminded of the scene in Airplane II: The Sequel, in which the Russian news anchor (played by Leon Askin, General Burkhalter of Hogan’s Heroes fame) read the news about the impending crash of a space shuttle: “A four-alarm fire in downtown Moscow clears the way for a glorious new tractor factory,” he said. “And, on the lighter side of the news, hundreds of capitalists are soon to perish in shuttle disaster.” During this reading, an arm extended from off-camera and held a gun to Askin’s head. In a similar manner, I can just see Lanpo and Weiwen leavening the last few pages of their book with Marxist jargon, while a Communist arm extends out from the background, holding a gun to their heads as they write.
[1] Noel T. Boaz & Russell L. Ciochon, Dragon Bone Hill, An Ice-Age Saga of Homo Erectus, Oxford Univ. Press, 2004, pp. 3, 4.
[2] Boaz & Ciochon, p. 22.
[3] Boaz & Ciochon, p. 25.
[4] Boaz & Ciochon, p. 32.
[5] Jan Lanpo (or Lanpo Jan) & Huang Weiwen, The Story of Peking Man: From Archaeology to Mystery, Oxford Univ. Press, 1990, p. 196.
[6] Lanpo & Weiwen, p. 214.
[7] Central Committee of the Communist Party of China, “Decision Concerning the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution” or “the 16 points.”
[8] Lanpo & Weiwen, pp. 216, 217.
[9] Lanpo & Weiwen, p. 226.