1. Sun Tzŭ said: The art of war recognises nine varieties of ground:
(1) Dispersive ground; (2) facile ground; (3) contentious ground; (4)
open ground; (5) ground of intersecting highways; (6) serious ground;
(7) difficult ground; (8) hemmed-in ground; (9) desperate ground.
2. When a chieftain is fighting in his own territory, it is dispersive
ground.
[So called because the soldiers, being near to their homes and anxious
to see their wives and children, are likely to seize the opportunity
afforded by a battle and scatter in every direction. "In their
advance," observes Tu Mu, "they will lack the valor of desperation, and
when they retreat, they will find harbors of refuge."]
3. When he has penetrated into hostile territory, but to no great
distance, it is facile ground.
[Li Ch’uan and Ho Shih say "because of the facility for retreating,"
and the other commentators give similar explanations. Tu Mu remarks:
"When your army has crossed the border, you should burn your boats and
bridges, in order to make it clear to everybody that you have no
hankering after home."]
4. Ground the possession of which imports great advantage to either
side, is contentious ground.
[Tu Mu defines the ground as ground "to be contended for." Ts’ao Kung
says: "ground on which the few and the weak can defeat the many and the
strong," such as "the neck of a pass," instanced by Li Ch’uan. Thus,
Thermopylae was of this classification because the possession of it,
even for a few days only, meant holding the entire invading army in
check and thus gaining invaluable time. Cf. Wu Tzŭ, ch. V. ad init.:
"For those who have to fight in the ratio of one to ten, there is
nothing better than a narrow pass." When Lu Kuang was returning from
his triumphant expedition to Turkestan in 385 A.D., and had got as far
as I-ho, laden with spoils, Liang Hsi, administrator of Liang-chou,
taking advantage of the death of Fu Chien, King of Ch’in, plotted
against him and was for barring his way into the province. Yang Han,
governor of Kao-ch’ang, counseled him, saying: "Lu Kuang is fresh from
his victories in the west, and his soldiers are vigorous and
mettlesome. If we oppose him in the shifting sands of the desert, we
shall be no match for him, and we must therefore try a different plan.
Let us hasten to occupy the defile at the mouth of the Kao-wu pass,
thus cutting him off from supplies of water, and when his troops are
prostrated with thirst, we can dictate our own terms without moving. Or
if you think that the pass I mention is too far off, we could make a
stand against him at the I-wu pass, which is nearer. The cunning and
resource of Tzŭ-fang himself would be expended in vain against the
enormous strength of these two positions." Liang Hsi, refusing to act
on this advice, was overwhelmed and swept away by the invader.]
5. Ground on which each side has liberty of movement is open ground.
[There are various interpretations of the Chinese adjective for this
type of ground. Ts’ao Kung says it means "ground covered with a network
of roads," like a chessboard. Ho Shih suggested: "ground on which
intercommunication is easy."]
6. Ground which forms the key to three contiguous states,
[Ts’au Kung defines this as: "Our country adjoining the enemy’s and a
third country conterminous with both." Meng Shih instances the small
principality of Cheng, which was bounded on the north-east by Ch’i, on
the west by Chin, and on the south by Ch’u.]
so that he who occupies it first has most of the Empire at his command,
[The belligerent who holds this dominating position can constrain most
of them to become his allies.]
is ground of intersecting highways.
7. When an army has penetrated into the heart of a hostile country,
leaving a number of fortified cities in its rear, it is serious ground.
[Wang Hsi explains the name by saying that "when an army has reached
such a point, its situation is serious."]
8. Mountain forests,
[Or simply "forests."]
rugged steeps, marshes and fens—all country that is hard to traverse:
this is difficult ground.
9. Ground which is reached through narrow gorges, and from which we can
only retire by tortuous paths, so that a small number of the enemy
would suffice to crush a large body of our men: this is hemmed in
ground.
10. Ground on which we can only be saved from destruction by fighting
without delay, is desperate ground.
[The situation, as pictured by Ts’ao Kung, is very similar to the
"hemmed-in ground" except that here escape is no longer possible: "A
lofty mountain in front, a large river behind, advance impossible,
retreat blocked." Ch’en Hao says: "to be on ‘desperate ground’ is like
sitting in a leaking boat or crouching in a burning house." Tu Mu
quotes from Li Ching a vivid description of the plight of an army thus
entrapped: "Suppose an army invading hostile territory without the aid
of local guides:—it falls into a fatal snare and is at the enemy’s
mercy. A ravine on the left, a mountain on the right, a pathway so
perilous that the horses have to be roped together and the chariots
carried in slings, no passage open in front, retreat cut off behind, no
choice but to proceed in single file. Then, before there is time to
range our soldiers in order of battle, the enemy is overwhelming
strength suddenly appears on the scene. Advancing, we can nowhere take
a breathing-space; retreating, we have no haven of refuge. We seek a
pitched battle, but in vain; yet standing on the defensive, none of us
has a moment’s respite. If we simply maintain our ground, whole days
and months will crawl by; the moment we make a move, we have to sustain
the enemy’s attacks on front and rear. The country is wild, destitute
of water and plants; the army is lacking in the necessaries of life,
the horses are jaded and the men worn-out, all the resources of
strength and skill unavailing, the pass so narrow that a single man
defending it can check the onset of ten thousand; all means of offense
in the hands of the enemy, all points of vantage already forfeited by
ourselves:—in this terrible plight, even though we had the most valiant
soldiers and the keenest of weapons, how could they be employed with
the slightest effect?" Students of Greek history may be reminded of the
awful close to the Sicilian expedition, and the agony of the Athenians
under Nicias and Demonsthenes. [See Thucydides, VII. 78 sqq.].]
11. On dispersive ground, therefore, fight not. On facile ground, halt
not. On contentious ground, attack not.
[But rather let all your energies be bent on occupying the advantageous
position first. So Ts’ao Kung. Li Ch’uan and others, however, suppose
the meaning to be that the enemy has already forestalled us, sot that
it would be sheer madness to attack. In the _Sun Tzŭ Hsu Lu_, when the
King of Wu inquires what should be done in this case, Sun Tzŭ replies:
"The rule with regard to contentious ground is that those in possession
have the advantage over the other side. If a position of this kind is
secured first by the enemy, beware of attacking him. Lure him away by
pretending to flee—show your banners and sound your drums—make a dash
for other places that he cannot afford to lose—trail brushwood and
raise a dust—confound his ears and eyes—detach a body of your best
troops, and place it secretly in ambuscade. Then your opponent will
sally forth to the rescue."]
12. On open ground, do not try to block the enemy’s way.
[Because the attempt would be futile, and would expose the blocking
force itself to serious risks. There are two interpretations available
here. I follow that of Chang Yu. The other is indicated in Ts’ao Kung’s
brief note: "Draw closer together"—i.e., see that a portion of your own
army is not cut off.]
On ground of intersecting highways, join hands with your allies.
[Or perhaps, "form alliances with neighbouring states."]
13. On serious ground, gather in plunder.
[On this, Li Ch’uan has the following delicious note: "When an army
penetrates far into the enemy’s country, care must be taken not to
alienate the people by unjust treatment. Follow the example of the Han
Emperor Kao Tsu, whose march into Ch’in territory was marked by no
violation of women or looting of valuables. [Nota bene: this was in 207
B.C., and may well cause us to blush for the Christian armies that
entered Peking in 1900 A.D.] Thus he won the hearts of all. In the
present passage, then, I think that the true reading must be, not
‘plunder,’ but ‘do not plunder.’" Alas, I fear that in this instance
the worthy commentator’s feelings outran his judgment. Tu Mu, at least,
has no such illusions. He says: "When encamped on ‘serious ground,’
there being no inducement as yet to advance further, and no possibility
of retreat, one ought to take measures for a protracted resistance by
bringing in provisions from all sides, and keep a close watch on the
enemy."]
In difficult ground, keep steadily on the march.
[Or, in the words of VIII. § 2, "do not encamp.]
14. On hemmed-in ground, resort to stratagem.
[Ts’au Kung says: "Try the effect of some unusual artifice;" and Tu Yu
amplifies this by saying: "In such a position, some scheme must be
devised which will suit the circumstances, and if we can succeed in
deluding the enemy, the peril may be escaped." This is exactly what
happened on the famous occasion when Hannibal was hemmed in among the
mountains on the road to Casilinum, and to all appearances entrapped by
the dictator Fabius. The stratagem which Hannibal devised to baffle his
foes was remarkably like that which T’ien Tan had also employed with
success exactly 62 years before. [See IX. § 24, note.] When night came
on, bundles of twigs were fastened to the horns of some 2000 oxen and
set on fire, the terrified animals being then quickly driven along the
mountain side towards the passes which were beset by the enemy. The
strange spectacle of these rapidly moving lights so alarmed and
discomfited the Romans that they withdrew from their position, and
Hannibal’s army passed safely through the defile. [See Polybius, III.
93, 94; Livy, XXII. 16 17.]
On desperate ground, fight.
[For, as Chia Lin remarks: "if you fight with all your might, there is
a chance of life; where as death is certain if you cling to your
corner."]
15. Those who were called skilful leaders of old knew how to drive a
wedge between the enemy’s front and rear;
[More literally, "cause the front and rear to lose touch with each
other."]
to prevent co-operation between his large and small divisions; to
hinder the good troops from rescuing the bad, the officers from
rallying their men.
16. When the enemy’s men were scattered, they prevented them from
concentrating; even when their forces were united, they managed to keep
them in disorder.
17. When it was to their advantage, they made a forward move; when
otherwise, they stopped still.
[Mei Yao-ch’en connects this with the foregoing: "Having succeeded in
thus dislocating the enemy, they would push forward in order to secure
any advantage to be gained; if there was no advantage to be gained,
they would remain where they were."]
18. If asked how to cope with a great host of the enemy in orderly
array and on the point of marching to the attack, I should say: "Begin
by seizing something which your opponent holds dear; then he will be
amenable to your will."
[Opinions differ as to what Sun Tzŭ had in mind. Ts’ao Kung thinks it
is "some strategical advantage on which the enemy is depending." Tu Mu
says: "The three things which an enemy is anxious to do, and on the
accomplishment of which his success depends, are: (1) to capture our
favourable positions; (2) to ravage our cultivated land; (3) to guard
his own communications." Our object then must be to thwart his plans in
these three directions and thus render him helpless. [Cf. III. § 3.] By
boldly seizing the initiative in this way, you at once throw the other
side on the defensive.]
19. Rapidity is the essence of war:
[According to Tu Mu, "this is a summary of leading principles in
warfare," and he adds: "These are the profoundest truths of military
science, and the chief business of the general." The following
anecdotes, told by Ho Shih, shows the importance attached to speed by
two of China’s greatest generals. In 227 A.D., Meng Ta, governor of
Hsin-ch’eng under the Wei Emperor Wen Ti, was meditating defection to
the House of Shu, and had entered into correspondence with Chu-ko
Liang, Prime Minister of that State. The Wei general Ssu-ma I was then
military governor of Wan, and getting wind of Meng Ta’s treachery, he
at once set off with an army to anticipate his revolt, having
previously cajoled him by a specious message of friendly import.
Ssu-ma’s officers came to him and said: "If Meng Ta has leagued himself
with Wu and Shu, the matter should be thoroughly investigated before we
make a move." Ssu-ma I replied: "Meng Ta is an unprincipled man, and we
ought to go and punish him at once, while he is still wavering and
before he has thrown off the mask." Then, by a series of forced
marches, be brought his army under the walls of Hsin-ch’eng with in a
space of eight days. Now Meng Ta had previously said in a letter to
Chu-ko Liang: "Wan is 1200 _li_ from here. When the news of my revolt
reaches Ssu-ma I, he will at once inform his imperial master, but it
will be a whole month before any steps can be taken, and by that time
my city will be well fortified. Besides, Ssu-ma I is sure not to come
himself, and the generals that will be sent against us are not worth
troubling about." The next letter, however, was filled with
consternation: "Though only eight days have passed since I threw off my
allegiance, an army is already at the city-gates. What miraculous
rapidity is this!" A fortnight later, Hsin- ch’eng had fallen and Meng
Ta had lost his head. [See _Chin Shu_, ch. 1, f. 3.] In 621 A.D., Li
Ching was sent from K’uei-chou in Ssu-ch’uan to reduce the successful
rebel Hsiao Hsien, who had set up as Emperor at the modern Ching-chou
Fu in Hupeh. It was autumn, and the Yangtsze being then in flood, Hsiao
Hsien never dreamt that his adversary would venture to come down
through the gorges, and consequently made no preparations. But Li Ching
embarked his army without loss of time, and was just about to start
when the other generals implored him to postpone his departure until
the river was in a less dangerous state for navigation. Li Ching
replied: "To the soldier, overwhelming speed is of paramount
importance, and he must never miss opportunities. Now is the time to
strike, before Hsiao Hsien even knows that we have got an army
together. If we seize the present moment when the river is in flood, we
shall appear before his capital with startling suddenness, like the
thunder which is heard before you have time to stop your ears against
it. [See VII. § 19, note.] This is the great principle in war. Even if
he gets to know of our approach, he will have to levy his soldiers in
such a hurry that they will not be fit to oppose us. Thus the full
fruits of victory will be ours." All came about as he predicted, and
Hsiao Hsien was obliged to surrender, nobly stipulating that his people
should be spared and he alone suffer the penalty of death.]
take advantage of the enemy’s unreadiness, make your way by unexpected
routes, and attack unguarded spots.
20. The following are the principles to be observed by an invading
force: The further you penetrate into a country, the greater will be
the solidarity of your troops, and thus the defenders will not prevail
against you.
21. Make forays in fertile country in order to supply your army with
food.
[Cf. _supra_, § 13. Li Ch’uan does not venture on a note here.]
22. Carefully study the well-being of your men,
[For "well-being", Wang Hsi means, "Pet them, humor them, give them
plenty of food and drink, and look after them generally."]
and do not overtax them. Concentrate your energy and hoard your
strength.
[Ch’en recalls the line of action adopted in 224 B.C. by the famous
general Wang Chien, whose military genius largely contributed to the
success of the First Emperor. He had invaded the Ch’u State, where a
universal levy was made to oppose him. But, being doubtful of the
temper of his troops, he declined all invitations to fight and remained
strictly on the defensive. In vain did the Ch’u general try to force a
battle: day after day Wang Chien kept inside his walls and would not
come out, but devoted his whole time and energy to winning the
affection and confidence of his men. He took care that they should be
well fed, sharing his own meals with them, provided facilities for
bathing, and employed every method of judicious indulgence to weld them
into a loyal and homogenous body. After some time had elapsed, he told
off certain persons to find out how the men were amusing themselves.
The answer was, that they were contending with one another in putting
the weight and long-jumping. When Wang Chien heard that they were
engaged in these athletic pursuits, he knew that their spirits had been
strung up to the required pitch and that they were now ready for
fighting. By this time the Ch’u army, after repeating their challenge
again and again, had marched away eastwards in disgust. The Ch’in
general immediately broke up his camp and followed them, and in the
battle that ensued they were routed with great slaughter. Shortly
afterwards, the whole of Ch’u was conquered by Ch’in, and the king
Fu-ch’u led into captivity.]
Keep your army continually on the move,
[In order that the enemy may never know exactly where you are. It has
struck me, however, that the true reading might be "link your army
together."]
and devise unfathomable plans.
23. Throw your soldiers into positions whence there is no escape, and
they will prefer death to flight. If they will face death, there is
nothing they may not achieve.
[Chang Yu quotes his favourite Wei Liao Tzŭ (ch. 3): "If one man were to
run amok with a sword in the market-place, and everybody else tried to
get our of his way, I should not allow that this man alone had courage
and that all the rest were contemptible cowards. The truth is, that a
desperado and a man who sets some value on his life do not meet on even
terms."]
Officers and men alike will put forth their uttermost strength.
[Chang Yu says: "If they are in an awkward place together, they will
surely exert their united strength to get out of it."]
24. Soldiers when in desperate straits lose the sense of fear. If there
is no place of refuge, they will stand firm. If they are in the heart
of a hostile country, they will show a stubborn front. If there is no
help for it, they will fight hard.
25. Thus, without waiting to be marshalled, the soldiers will be
constantly on the _qui vive;_ without waiting to be asked, they will do
your will;
[Literally, "without asking, you will get."]
without restrictions, they will be faithful; without giving orders,
they can be trusted.
26. Prohibit the taking of omens, and do away with superstitious
doubts. Then, until death itself comes, no calamity need be feared.
[The superstitious, "bound in to saucy doubts and fears," degenerate
into cowards and "die many times before their deaths." Tu Mu quotes
Huang Shih-kung: "‘Spells and incantations should be strictly
forbidden, and no officer allowed to inquire by divination into the
fortunes of an army, for fear the soldiers’ minds should be seriously
perturbed.’ The meaning is," he continues, "that if all doubts and
scruples are discarded, your men will never falter in their resolution
until they die."]
27. If our soldiers are not overburdened with money, it is not because
they have a distaste for riches; if their lives are not unduly long, it
is not because they are disinclined to longevity.
[Chang Yu has the best note on this passage: "Wealth and long life are
things for which all men have a natural inclination. Hence, if they
burn or fling away valuables, and sacrifice their own lives, it is not
that they dislike them, but simply that they have no choice." Sun Tzŭ
is slyly insinuating that, as soldiers are but human, it is for the
general to see that temptations to shirk fighting and grow rich are not
thrown in their way.]
28. On the day they are ordered out to battle, your soldiers may weep,
[The word in the Chinese is "snivel." This is taken to indicate more
genuine grief than tears alone.]
those sitting up bedewing their garments, and those lying down letting
the tears run down their cheeks.
[Not because they are afraid, but because, as Ts’ao Kung says, "all
have embraced the firm resolution to do or die." We may remember that
the heroes of the Iliad were equally childlike in showing their
emotion. Chang Yu alludes to the mournful parting at the I River
between Ching K’o and his friends, when the former was sent to attempt
the life of the King of Ch’in (afterwards First Emperor) in 227 B.C.
The tears of all flowed down like rain as he bade them farewell and
uttered the following lines: "The shrill blast is blowing, Chilly the
burn; Your champion is going—Not to return." [1] ]
But let them once be brought to bay, and they will display the courage
of a Chu or a Kuei.
[Chu was the personal name of Chuan Chu, a native of the Wu State and
contemporary with Sun Tzŭ himself, who was employed by Kung-tzu Kuang,
better known as Ho Lu Wang, to assassinate his sovereign Wang Liao with
a dagger which he secreted in the belly of a fish served up at a
banquet. He succeeded in his attempt, but was immediately hacked to
pieces by the king’s bodyguard. This was in 515 B.C. The other hero
referred to, Ts’ao Kuei (or Ts’ao Mo), performed the exploit which has
made his name famous 166 years earlier, in 681 B.C. Lu had been thrice
defeated by Ch’i, and was just about to conclude a treaty surrendering
a large slice of territory, when Ts’ao Kuei suddenly seized Huan Kung,
the Duke of Ch’i, as he stood on the altar steps and held a dagger
against his chest. None of the duke’s retainers dared to move a muscle,
and Ts’ao Kuei proceeded to demand full restitution, declaring the Lu
was being unjustly treated because she was a smaller and a weaker
state. Huan Kung, in peril of his life, was obliged to consent,
whereupon Ts’ao Kuei flung away his dagger and quietly resumed his
place amid the terrified assemblage without having so much as changed
color. As was to be expected, the Duke wanted afterwards to repudiate
the bargain, but his wise old counselor Kuan Chung pointed out to him
the impolicy of breaking his word, and the upshot was that this bold
stroke regained for Lu the whole of what she had lost in three pitched
battles.]
29. The skilful tactician may be likened to the _shuai-jan_. Now the
_shuai-jan_ is a snake that is found in the Ch‘ang mountains.
["_Shuai-jan_" means "suddenly" or "rapidly," and the snake in question
was doubtless so called owing to the rapidity of its movements. Through
this passage, the term in the Chinese has now come to be used in the
sense of "military manœuvers."]
Strike at its head, and you will be attacked by its tail; strike at its
tail, and you will be attacked by its head; strike at its middle, and
you will be attacked by head and tail both.
30. Asked if an army can be made to imitate the _shuai-jan_,
[That is, as Mei Yao-ch’en says, "Is it possible to make the front and
rear of an army each swiftly responsive to attack on the other, just as
though they were part of a single living body?"]
I should answer, Yes. For the men of Wu and the men of Yüeh are
enemies;
[Cf. VI. § 21.]
yet if they are crossing a river in the same boat and are caught by a
storm, they will come to each other’s assistance just as the left hand
helps the right.
[The meaning is: If two enemies will help each other in a time of
common peril, how much more should two parts of the same army, bound
together as they are by every tie of interest and fellow-feeling. Yet
it is notorious that many a campaign has been ruined through lack of
cooperation, especially in the case of allied armies.]
31. Hence it is not enough to put one’s trust in the tethering of
horses, and the burying of chariot wheels in the ground.
[These quaint devices to prevent one’s army from running away recall
the Athenian hero Sophanes, who carried the anchor with him at the
battle of Plataea, by means of which he fastened himself firmly to one
spot. [See Herodotus, IX. 74.] It is not enough, says Sun Tzŭ, to
render flight impossible by such mechanical means. You will not succeed
unless your men have tenacity and unity of purpose, and, above all, a
spirit of sympathetic cooperation. This is the lesson which can be
learned from the _shuai-jan_.]
32. The principle on which to manage an army is to set up one standard
of courage which all must reach.
[Literally, "level the courage [of all] as though [it were that of]
one." If the ideal army is to form a single organic whole, then it
follows that the resolution and spirit of its component parts must be
of the same quality, or at any rate must not fall below a certain
standard. Wellington’s seemingly ungrateful description of his army at
Waterloo as "the worst he had ever commanded" meant no more than that
it was deficient in this important particular—unity of spirit and
courage. Had he not foreseen the Belgian defections and carefully kept
those troops in the background, he would almost certainly have lost the
day.]
33. How to make the best of both strong and weak—that is a question
involving the proper use of ground.
[Mei Yao-ch’en’s paraphrase is: "The way to eliminate the differences
of strong and weak and to make both serviceable is to utilize
accidental features of the ground." Less reliable troops, if posted in
strong positions, will hold out as long as better troops on more
exposed terrain. The advantage of position neutralizes the inferiority
in stamina and courage. Col. Henderson says: "With all respect to the
text books, and to the ordinary tactical teaching, I am inclined to
think that the study of ground is often overlooked, and that by no
means sufficient importance is attached to the selection of positions…
and to the immense advantages that are to be derived, whether you are
defending or attacking, from the proper utilization of natural
features." [2] ]
34. Thus the skilful general conducts his army just as though he were
leading a single man, willy-nilly, by the hand.
[Tu Mu says: "The simile has reference to the ease with which he does
it."]
35. It is the business of a general to be quiet and thus ensure
secrecy; upright and just, and thus maintain order.
36. He must be able to mystify his officers and men by false reports
and appearances,
[Literally, "to deceive their eyes and ears."]
and thus keep them in total ignorance.
[Ts’ao Kung gives us one of his excellent apophthegms: "The troops must
not be allowed to share your schemes in the beginning; they may only
rejoice with you over their happy outcome." "To mystify, mislead, and
surprise the enemy," is one of the first principles in war, as had been
frequently pointed out. But how about the other process—the
mystification of one’s own men? Those who may think that Sun Tzŭ is
over-emphatic on this point would do well to read Col. Henderson’s
remarks on Stonewall Jackson’s Valley campaign: "The infinite pains,"
he says, "with which Jackson sought to conceal, even from his most
trusted staff officers, his movements, his intentions, and his
thoughts, a commander less thorough would have pronounced useless"—etc.
etc. [3] In the year 88 A.D., as we read in ch. 47 of the _Hou Han
Shu_, "Pan Ch’ao took the field with 25,000 men from Khotan and other
Central Asian states with the object of crushing Yarkand. The King of
Kutcha replied by dispatching his chief commander to succour the place
with an army drawn from the kingdoms of Wen-su, Ku-mo, and Wei-t’ou,
totaling 50,000 men. Pan Ch’ao summoned his officers and also the King
of Khotan to a council of war, and said: ‘Our forces are now
outnumbered and unable to make head against the enemy. The best plan,
then, is for us to separate and disperse, each in a different
direction. The King of Khotan will march away by the easterly route,
and I will then return myself towards the west. Let us wait until the
evening drum has sounded and then start.’ Pan Ch’ao now secretly
released the prisoners whom he had taken alive, and the King of Kutcha
was thus informed of his plans. Much elated by the news, the latter set
off at once at the head of 10,000 horsemen to bar Pan Ch’ao’s retreat
in the west, while the King of Wen-su rode eastward with 8000 horse in
order to intercept the King of Khotan. As soon as Pan Ch’ao knew that
the two chieftains had gone, he called his divisions together, got them
well in hand, and at cock-crow hurled them against the army of Yarkand,
as it lay encamped. The barbarians, panic-stricken, fled in confusion,
and were closely pursued by Pan Ch’ao. Over 5000 heads were brought
back as trophies, besides immense spoils in the shape of horses and
cattle and valuables of every description. Yarkand then capitulating,
Kutcha and the other kingdoms drew off their respective forces. From
that time forward, Pan Ch’ao’s prestige completely overawed the
countries of the west." In this case, we see that the Chinese general
not only kept his own officers in ignorance of his real plans, but
actually took the bold step of dividing his army in order to deceive
the enemy.]
37. By altering his arrangements and changing his plans,
[Wang Hsi thinks that this means not using the same stratagem twice.]
he keeps the enemy without definite knowledge.
[Chang Yu, in a quotation from another work, says: "The axiom, that war
is based on deception, does not apply only to deception of the enemy.
You must deceive even your own soldiers. Make them follow you, but
without letting them know why."]
By shifting his camp and taking circuitous routes, he prevents the
enemy from anticipating his purpose.
38. At the critical moment, the leader of an army acts like one who has
climbed up a height and then kicks away the ladder behind him. He
carries his men deep into hostile territory before he shows his hand.
[Literally, "releases the spring" (see V. § 15), that is, takes some
decisive step which makes it impossible for the army to return—like
Hsiang Yu, who sunk his ships after crossing a river. Ch’en Hao,
followed by Chia Lin, understands the words less well as "puts forth
every artifice at his command."]
39. He burns his boats and breaks his cooking-pots; like a shepherd
driving a flock of sheep, he drives his men this way and that, and
none knows whither he is going.
[Tu Mu says: "The army is only cognizant of orders to advance or
retreat; it is ignorant of the ulterior ends of attacking and
conquering."]
40. To muster his host and bring it into danger:—this may be termed the
business of the general.
[Sun Tzŭ means that after mobilization there should be no delay in
aiming a blow at the enemy’s heart. Note how he returns again and again
to this point. Among the warring states of ancient China, desertion was
no doubt a much more present fear and serious evil than it is in the
armies of today.]
41. The different measures suited to the nine varieties of ground;
[Chang Yu says: "One must not be hide-bound in interpreting the rules
for the nine varieties of ground."]
the expediency of aggressive or defensive tactics; and the fundamental
laws of human nature: these are things that must most certainly be
studied.
42. When invading hostile territory, the general principle is, that
penetrating deeply brings cohesion; penetrating but a short way means
dispersion.
[Cf. _supra_, § 20.]
43. When you leave your own country behind, and take your army across
neighbourhood territory, you find yourself on critical ground.
[This "ground" is curiously mentioned in VIII. § 2, but it does not
figure among the Nine Situations or the Six Calamities in chap. X.
One’s first impulse would be to translate it distant ground," but this,
if we can trust the commentators, is precisely what is not meant here.
Mei Yao-ch’en says it is "a position not far enough advanced to be
called ‘facile,’ and not near enough to home to be ‘dispersive,’ but
something between the two." Wang Hsi says: "It is ground separated from
home by an interjacent state, whose territory we have had to cross in
order to reach it. Hence, it is incumbent on us to settle our business
there quickly." He adds that this position is of rare occurrence, which
is the reason why it is not included among the Nine Situations.]
When there are means of communication on all four sides, the ground is
one of intersecting highways.
44. When you penetrate deeply into a country, it is serious ground.
When you penetrate but a little way, it is facile ground.
45. When you have the enemy’s strongholds on your rear, and narrow
passes in front, it is hemmed-in ground. When there is no place of
refuge at all, it is desperate ground.
46. Therefore, on dispersive ground, I would inspire my men with unity
of purpose.
[This end, according to Tu Mu, is best attained by remaining on the
defensive, and avoiding battle. Cf. _supra_, § 11.]
On facile ground, I would see that there is close connection between
all parts of my army.
[As Tu Mu says, the object is to guard against two possible
contingencies: "(1) the desertion of our own troops; (2) a sudden
attack on the part of the enemy." Cf. VII. § 17. Mei Yao-ch’en says:
"On the march, the regiments should be in close touch; in an
encampment, there should be continuity between the fortifications."]
47. On contentious ground, I would hurry up my rear.
[This is Ts’ao Kung’s interpretation. Chang Yu adopts it, saying: "We
must quickly bring up our rear, so that head and tail may both reach
the goal." That is, they must not be allowed to straggle up a long way
apart. Mei Yao-ch’en offers another equally plausible explanation:
"Supposing the enemy has not yet reached the coveted position, and we
are behind him, we should advance with all speed in order to dispute
its possession." Ch’en Hao, on the other hand, assuming that the enemy
has had time to select his own ground, quotes VI. § 1, where Sun Tzŭ
warns us against coming exhausted to the attack. His own idea of the
situation is rather vaguely expressed: "If there is a favourable
position lying in front of you, detach a picked body of troops to
occupy it, then if the enemy, relying on their numbers, come up to make
a fight for it, you may fall quickly on their rear with your main body,
and victory will be assured." It was thus, he adds, that Chao She beat
the army of Ch’in. (See p. 57.)]
48. On open ground, I would keep a vigilant eye on my defences. On
ground of intersecting highways, I would consolidate my alliances.
49. On serious ground, I would try to ensure a continuous stream of
supplies.
[The commentators take this as referring to forage and plunder, not, as
one might expect, to an unbroken communication with a home base.]
On difficult ground, I would keep pushing on along the road.
50. On hemmed-in ground, I would block any way of retreat.
[Meng Shih says: "To make it seem that I meant to defend the position,
whereas my real intention is to burst suddenly through the enemy’s
lines." Mei Yao-ch’en says: "in order to make my soldiers fight with
desperation." Wang Hsi says, "fearing lest my men be tempted to run
away." Tu Mu points out that this is the converse of VII. § 36, where
it is the enemy who is surrounded. In 532 A.D., Kao Huan, afterwards
Emperor and canonized as Shen-wu, was surrounded by a great army under
Erh-chu Chao and others. His own force was comparatively small,
consisting only of 2000 horse and something under 30,000 foot. The
lines of investment had not been drawn very closely together, gaps
being left at certain points. But Kao Huan, instead of trying to
escape, actually made a shift to block all the remaining outlets
himself by driving into them a number of oxen and donkeys roped
together. As soon as his officers and men saw that there was nothing
for it but to conquer or die, their spirits rose to an extraordinary
pitch of exaltation, and they charged with such desperate ferocity that
the opposing ranks broke and crumbled under their onslaught.]
On desperate ground, I would proclaim to my soldiers the hopelessness
of saving their lives.
Tu Yu says: "Burn your baggage and impedimenta, throw away your stores
and provisions, choke up the wells, destroy your cooking-stoves, and
make it plain to your men that they cannot survive, but must fight to
the death." Mei Yao-ch’en says: "The only chance of life lies in giving
up all hope of it." This concludes what Sun Tzŭ has to say about
"grounds" and the "variations" corresponding to them. Reviewing the
passages which bear on this important subject, we cannot fail to be
struck by the desultory and unmethodical fashion in which it is
treated. Sun Tzŭ begins abruptly in VIII. § 2 to enumerate "variations"
before touching on "grounds" at all, but only mentions five, namely
nos. 7, 5, 8 and 9 of the subsequent list, and one that is not included
in it. A few varieties of ground are dealt with in the earlier portion
of chap. IX, and then chap. X sets forth six new grounds, with six
variations of plan to match. None of these is mentioned again, though
the first is hardly to be distinguished from ground no. 4 in the next
chapter. At last, in chap. XI, we come to the Nine Grounds par
excellence, immediately followed by the variations. This takes us down
to § 14. In §§ 43-45, fresh definitions are provided for nos. 5, 6, 2,
8 and 9 (in the order given), as well as for the tenth ground noticed
in chap. VIII; and finally, the nine variations are enumerated once
more from beginning to end, all, with the exception of 5, 6 and 7,
being different from those previously given. Though it is impossible to
account for the present state of Sun Tzŭ’s text, a few suggestive facts
maybe brought into prominence: (1) Chap. VIII, according to the title,
should deal with nine variations, whereas only five appear. (2) It is
an abnormally short chapter. (3) Chap. XI is entitled The Nine Grounds.
Several of these are defined twice over, besides which there are two
distinct lists of the corresponding variations. (4) The length of the
chapter is disproportionate, being double that of any other except IX.
I do not propose to draw any inferences from these facts, beyond the
general conclusion that Sun Tzŭ’s work cannot have come down to us in
the shape in which it left his hands: chap. VIII is obviously defective
and probably out of place, while XI seems to contain matter that has
either been added by a later hand or ought to appear elsewhere.]
51. For it is the soldier’s disposition to offer an obstinate
resistance when surrounded, to fight hard when he cannot help himself,
and to obey promptly when he has fallen into danger.
[Chang Yu alludes to the conduct of Pan Ch’ao’s devoted followers in 73
A.D. The story runs thus in the _Hou Han Shu_, ch. 47: "When Pan Ch’ao
arrived at Shan-shan, Kuang, the King of the country, received him at
first with great politeness and respect; but shortly afterwards his
behavior underwent a sudden change, and he became remiss and negligent.
Pan Ch’ao spoke about this to the officers of his suite: ‘Have you
noticed,’ he said, ‘that Kuang’s polite intentions are on the wane?
This must signify that envoys have come from the Northern barbarians,
and that consequently he is in a state of indecision, not knowing with
which side to throw in his lot. That surely is the reason. The truly
wise man, we are told, can perceive things before they have come to
pass; how much more, then, those that are already manifest!’ Thereupon
he called one of the natives who had been assigned to his service, and
set a trap for him, saying: ‘Where are those envoys from the Hsiung-nu
who arrived some day ago?’ The man was so taken aback that between
surprise and fear he presently blurted out the whole truth. Pan Ch’ao,
keeping his informant carefully under lock and key, then summoned a
general gathering of his officers, thirty-six in all, and began
drinking with them. When the wine had mounted into their heads a
little, he tried to rouse their spirit still further by addressing them
thus: ‘Gentlemen, here we are in the heart of an isolated region,
anxious to achieve riches and honour by some great exploit. Now it
happens that an ambassador from the Hsiung-no arrived in this kingdom
only a few days ago, and the result is that the respectful courtesy
extended towards us by our royal host has disappeared. Should this
envoy prevail upon him to seize our party and hand us over to the
Hsiung-no, our bones will become food for the wolves of the desert.
What are we to do?’ With one accord, the officers replied: ‘Standing as
we do in peril of our lives, we will follow our commander through life
and death.’ For the sequel of this adventure, see chap. XII. § 1,
note.]
52. We cannot enter into alliance with neighbouring princes until we are
acquainted with their designs. We are not fit to lead an army on the
march unless we are familiar with the face of the country—its mountains
and forests, its pitfalls and precipices, its marshes and swamps. We
shall be unable to turn natural advantages to account unless we make
use of local guides.
[These three sentences are repeated from VII. §§ 12-14—in order to
emphasize their importance, the commentators seem to think. I prefer to
regard them as interpolated here in order to form an antecedent to the
following words. With regard to local guides, Sun Tzŭ might have added
that there is always the risk of going wrong, either through their
treachery or some misunderstanding such as Livy records (XXII. 13):
Hannibal, we are told, ordered a guide to lead him into the
neighbourhood of Casinum, where there was an important pass to be
occupied; but his Carthaginian accent, unsuited to the pronunciation of
Latin names, caused the guide to understand Casilinum instead of
Casinum, and turning from his proper route, he took the army in that
direction, the mistake not being discovered until they had almost
arrived.]
53. To be ignorant of any one of the following four or five principles
does not befit a warlike prince.
54. When a warlike prince attacks a powerful state, his generalship
shows itself in preventing the concentration of the enemy’s forces. He
overawes his opponents, and their allies are prevented from joining
against him.
[Mei Tao-ch’en constructs one of the chains of reasoning that are so
much affected by the Chinese: "In attacking a powerful state, if you
can divide her forces, you will have a superiority in strength; if you
have a superiority in strength, you will overawe the enemy; if you
overawe the enemy, the neighbouring states will be frightened; and if
the neighbouring states are frightened, the enemy’s allies will be
prevented from joining her." The following gives a stronger meaning:
"If the great state has once been defeated (before she has had time to
summon her allies), then the lesser states will hold aloof and refrain
from massing their forces." Ch’en Hao and Chang Yu take the sentence in
quite another way. The former says: "Powerful though a prince may be,
if he attacks a large state, he will be unable to raise enough troops,
and must rely to some extent on external aid; if he dispenses with
this, and with overweening confidence in his own strength, simply tries
to intimidate the enemy, he will surely be defeated." Chang Yu puts his
view thus: "If we recklessly attack a large state, our own people will
be discontented and hang back. But if (as will then be the case) our
display of military force is inferior by half to that of the enemy, the
other chieftains will take fright and refuse to join us."]
55. Hence he does not strive to ally himself with all and sundry, nor
does he foster the power of other states. He carries out his own secret
designs, keeping his antagonists in awe.
[The train of thought, as said by Li Ch’uan, appears to be this: Secure
against a combination of his enemies, "he can afford to reject
entangling alliances and simply pursue his own secret designs, his
prestige enable him to dispense with external friendships."]
Thus he is able to capture their cities and overthrow their kingdoms.
[This paragraph, though written many years before the Ch’in State
became a serious menace, is not a bad summary of the policy by which
the famous Six Chancellors gradually paved the way for her final
triumph under Shih Huang Ti. Chang Yu, following up his previous note,
thinks that Sun Tzŭ is condemning this attitude of cold-blooded
selfishness and haughty isolation.]
56. Bestow rewards without regard to rule,
[Wu Tzŭ (ch. 3) less wisely says: "Let advance be richly rewarded and
retreat be heavily punished."]
issue orders
[Literally, "hang" or post up."]
without regard to previous arrangements;
["In order to prevent treachery," says Wang Hsi. The general meaning is
made clear by Ts’ao Kung’s quotation from the _Ssu-ma Fa:_ "Give
instructions only on sighting the enemy; give rewards when you see
deserving deeds." Ts’ao Kung’s paraphrase: "The final instructions you
give to your army should not correspond with those that have been
previously posted up." Chang Yu simplifies this into "your arrangements
should not be divulged beforehand." And Chia Lin says: "there should be
no fixity in your rules and arrangements." Not only is there danger in
letting your plans be known, but war often necessitates the entire
reversal of them at the last moment.]
and you will be able to handle a whole army as though you had to do
with but a single man.
[Cf. _supra_, § 34.]
57. Confront your soldiers with the deed itself; never let them know
your design.
[Literally, "do not tell them words;" i.e. do not give your reasons for
any order. Lord Mansfield once told a junior colleague to "give no
reasons" for his decisions, and the maxim is even more applicable to a
general than to a judge.]
When the outlook is bright, bring it before their eyes; but tell them
nothing when the situation is gloomy.
58. Place your army in deadly peril, and it will survive; plunge it
into desperate straits, and it will come off in safety.
[These words of Sun Tzŭ were once quoted by Han Hsin in explanation of
the tactics he employed in one of his most brilliant battles, already
alluded to on p. 28. In 204 B.C., he was sent against the army of Chao,
and halted ten miles from the mouth of the Ching-hsing pass, where the
enemy had mustered in full force. Here, at midnight, he detached a body
of 2000 light cavalry, every man of which was furnished with a red
flag. Their instructions were to make their way through narrow defiles
and keep a secret watch on the enemy. "When the men of Chao see me in
full flight," Han Hsin said, "they will abandon their fortifications
and give chase. This must be the sign for you to rush in, pluck down
the Chao standards and set up the red banners of Han in their stead."
Turning then to his other officers, he remarked: "Our adversary holds a
strong position, and is not likely to come out and attack us until he
sees the standard and drums of the commander-in-chief, for fear I
should turn back and escape through the mountains." So saying, he first
of all sent out a division consisting of 10,000 men, and ordered them
to form in line of battle with their backs to the River Ti. Seeing this
manœuver, the whole army of Chao broke into loud laughter. By this time
it was broad daylight, and Han Hsin, displaying the generalissimo’s
flag, marched out of the pass with drums beating, and was immediately
engaged by the enemy. A great battle followed, lasting for some time;
until at length Han Hsin and his colleague Chang Ni, leaving drums and
banner on the field, fled to the division on the river bank, where
another fierce battle was raging. The enemy rushed out to pursue them
and to secure the trophies, thus denuding their ramparts of men; but
the two generals succeeded in joining the other army, which was
fighting with the utmost desperation. The time had now come for the
2000 horsemen to play their part. As soon as they saw the men of Chao
following up their advantage, they galloped behind the deserted walls,
tore up the enemy’s flags and replaced them by those of Han. When the
Chao army looked back from the pursuit, the sight of these red flags
struck them with terror. Convinced that the Hans had got in and
overpowered their king, they broke up in wild disorder, every effort of
their leader to stay the panic being in vain. Then the Han army fell on
them from both sides and completed the rout, killing a number and
capturing the rest, amongst whom was King Ya himself…. After the
battle, some of Han Hsin’s officers came to him and said: "In the _Art
of War_ we are told to have a hill or tumulus on the right rear, and a
river or marsh on the left front. [This appears to be a blend of Sun
Tzŭ and T’ai Kung. See IX § 9, and note.] You, on the contrary, ordered
us to draw up our troops with the river at our back. Under these
conditions, how did you manage to gain the victory?" The general
replied: "I fear you gentlemen have not studied the Art of War with
sufficient care. Is it not written there: ‘Plunge your army into
desperate straits and it will come off in safety; place it in deadly
peril and it will survive’? Had I taken the usual course, I should
never have been able to bring my colleague round. What says the
Military Classic—‘Swoop down on the market-place and drive the men off
to fight.’ [This passage does not occur in the present text of Sun
Tzŭ.] If I had not placed my troops in a position where they were
obliged to fight for their lives, but had allowed each man to follow
his own discretion, there would have been a general _débandade_, and it
would have been impossible to do anything with them." The officers
admitted the force of his argument, and said: "These are higher tactics
than we should have been capable of." [See _Ch’ien Han Shu_, ch. 34,
ff. 4, 5.] ]
59. For it is precisely when a force has fallen into harm’s way that is
capable of striking a blow for victory.
[Danger has a bracing effect.]
60. Success in warfare is gained by carefully accommodating ourselves
to the enemy’s purpose.
[Ts’ao Kung says: "Feign stupidity"—by an appearance of yielding and
falling in with the enemy’s wishes. Chang Yu’s note makes the meaning
clear: "If the enemy shows an inclination to advance, lure him on to do
so; if he is anxious to retreat, delay on purpose that he may carry out
his intention." The object is to make him remiss and contemptuous
before we deliver our attack.]
61. By persistently hanging on the enemy’s flank,
[I understand the first four words to mean "accompanying the enemy in
one direction." Ts’ao Kung says: "unite the soldiers and make for the
enemy." But such a violent displacement of characters is quite
indefensible.]
we shall succeed in the long run
[Literally, "after a thousand _li_."]
in killing the commander-in-chief.
[Always a great point with the Chinese.]
62. This is called ability to accomplish a thing by sheer cunning.
63. On the day that you take up your command, block the frontier
passes, destroy the official tallies,
[These were tablets of bamboo or wood, one half of which was issued as
a permit or passport by the official in charge of a gate. Cf. the
"border-warden" of _Lun Yu_ III. 24, who may have had similar duties.
When this half was returned to him, within a fixed period, he was
authorized to open the gate and let the traveler through.]
and stop the passage of all emissaries.
[Either to or from the enemy’s country.]
64. Be stern in the council-chamber,
[Show no weakness, and insist on your plans being ratified by the
sovereign.]
so that you may control the situation.
[Mei Yao-ch’en understands the whole sentence to mean: Take the
strictest precautions to ensure secrecy in your deliberations.]
65. If the enemy leaves a door open, you must rush in.
66. Forestall your opponent by seizing what he holds dear,
[Cf. _supra_, § 18.]
and subtly contrive to time his arrival on the ground.
[Ch’en Hao’s explanation: "If I manage to seize a favourable position,
but the enemy does not appear on the scene, the advantage thus obtained
cannot be turned to any practical account. He who intends therefore, to
occupy a position of importance to the enemy, must begin by making an
artful appointment, so to speak, with his antagonist, and cajole him
into going there as well." Mei Yao-ch’en explains that this "artful
appointment" is to be made through the medium of the enemy’s own spies,
who will carry back just the amount of information that we choose to
give them. Then, having cunningly disclosed our intentions, "we must
manage, though starting after the enemy, to arrive before him (VII. §
4). We must start after him in order to ensure his marching thither; we
must arrive before him in order to capture the place without trouble.
Taken thus, the present passage lends some support to Mei Yao-ch’en’s
interpretation of § 47.]
67. Walk in the path defined by rule,
[Chia Lin says: "Victory is the only thing that matters, and this
cannot be achieved by adhering to conventional canons." It is
unfortunate that this variant rests on very slight authority, for the
sense yielded is certainly much more satisfactory. Napoleon, as we
know, according to the veterans of the old school whom he defeated, won
his battles by violating every accepted canon of warfare.]
and accommodate yourself to the enemy until you can fight a decisive
battle.
[Tu Mu says: "Conform to the enemy’s tactics until a favourable
opportunity offers; then come forth and engage in a battle that shall
prove decisive."]
68. At first, then, exhibit the coyness of a maiden, until the enemy
gives you an opening; afterwards emulate the rapidity of a running
hare, and it will be too late for the enemy to oppose you.
[As the hare is noted for its extreme timidity, the comparison hardly
appears felicitous. But of course Sun Tzŭ was thinking only of its
speed. The words have been taken to mean: You must flee from the enemy
as quickly as an escaping hare; but this is rightly rejected by Tu Mu.]
[1] Giles’ Biographical Dictionary, no. 399.
[2] "The Science of War," p. 333.
[3] "Stonewall Jackson," vol. I, p. 421.