by Sunzi
Keep your army continually on the move,
In order that the enemy may never know exactly where you are.
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 Yü … quotes … Wei Liao Tzu: “If one man were to run amok with a sword in the market-place, and everybody else tried to get out 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 Yü 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.
The whole of this paragraph, of course, has reference to “desperate ground.”
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 Yü 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 Tzu 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 verb in 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 Yü 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.”
But let them once be brought to bay, and they will display the courage of a Chu or a Kuei.
[Chu] was the personal [that is, given] name of Chuan Chu, a native of the Wu State and contemporary with Sun Tzu himself, who was employed by … Ho Lü Wang to assassinate his sovereign Wang Liao with a dagger which he had 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, performed the exploit which … 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 that Lu was being unjustly treated because she was a smaller and 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 colour. As was to be expected, the Duke wanted afterwards to repudiate the bargain, but his wise old counsellor 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. 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’ên 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 parts of a single living body?”
I should answer, Yes. For the men of Wu and the men of Yüeh are enemies; 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 Sôphanes, who carried an anchor with him at the battle of Plataea, by means of which he fastened himself firmly to one spot. It is not enough, says Sun Tzu, 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 [where he won] 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 most 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’ên’s paraphrase is: “The way to eliminate the differences of strong and weak and to make both serviceable is to utilise 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 neutralises the inferiority in stamina and courage.
Col. Henderson says: “With all respect to the text books, and to ordinary tactical teaching, I am inclined to think that the study of ground is often overlooked, and that by no means sufficient importanc
e 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 utilisation of natural features” [The Science of War].
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.” [The Chinese] means that he makes it impossible for his troops to do otherwise than obey.
35. It is the business of a general to be quiet and thus ensure secrecy; upright and just, and thus maintain order.
[The Chinese] seems to combine the meanings “noiseless” and “imperturbable,” both of which attributes would of course conduce to secrecy.
36. He must be able to mystify his officers and men by false reports and appearances, 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 the happy outcome.”
“To mystify, mislead, and surprise the enemy,” is one of the first principles in war, as has been frequently pointed out. But how about the other process—the mystification of one’s own men? Those who may think that Sun Tzu 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. [Stonewall Jackson, Vol. 1].
In the year 88 A.D., … , “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 Wên-su, Ku-mo and Wei-t’ou, totalling 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 Wên-su rode eastwards 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, he keeps the enemy without definite knowledge.
Chang Yü quotes [another commentator] as saying: “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.
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 cognisant 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 Tzu means that after mobilisation there should be no delay in aiming a blow at the enemy’s heart. Note how he returns again and again to this point [see paragraph 23 above]. 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 to-day.
41. The different measures suited to the nine varieties of ground;
Chang Yü 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.
43. When you leave your own country behind, and take your army across neighbouring territory, you find yourself on critical ground.
This “ground” is cursorily mentioned in chapter VIII, paragraph 2, but it does not figure among the nine situations of this chapter or the six kinds of terrain in chapter X. One’s first impulse would be to translate it [as] “distant ground” (… in the sense of “distant lands”), but this … is precisely what is not meant here. Mei Yao-ch’ên says it is “a position not far enough advanced to be called ‘facile,’ and not near enough to home to be called ‘dispersive,’ but something between the two.”
That, of course, does not explain the name, which seems to imply that the general has severed his communications and temporarily cut himself off from his base. Thus, 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 six kinds of terrain.
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.
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.” Mei Yao-ch’ên 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 Yü 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’ên 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’ên Hao, on the other hand, assuming that the enemy has had time [to] select his own ground, quotes [Sun Tzu’s admonition] 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 Shê beat the army of Ch’in.
48. On open ground, I would keep a vigilant eye on my defences.
As Wang Hsi says, “fearing a surprise attack.”
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.
[Ts’ao Kung puts it thus:] “Pass away from it in all haste.”
50. On hemmed-in ground, I would block any way of retreat.
[Mêng Shih says:] “To make it seem that I mean to defend the position, whereas my real intention is to burst suddenly through the enemy’s lines.” [Mei Yao-ch’ên 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 [injunction] is the converse of chapter VII, paragraph 36, where it is the enemy who is surrounded.
In 532 A.D., Kao Huan, afterwards Emperor and canonised as Shên-wu, was surrounded by a great army under Êrh-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.