The Art of War
Page 7
Lo Shang, governor of I-chou, sent his general Wei Po to attack the rebel Li Hsiung of Shu in his stronghold at P’i. After each side had experienced a number of victories and defeats, the rebel leader Li Hsiung had recourse to the services of a certain Po-tai, a native of Su-tu. He began by having him whipped until the blood came, and then sent him off to his enemy Lo Shang, whom he was to delude by offering to cooperate with him from inside the city, and to give a fire signal at the right moment for making a general assault.
Lo Shang, believing the promises of this inward spy, marched out all his best troops, and placed General Wei and others at their head with orders to attack at Po-tai’s bidding. Meanwhile, Li Hsiung had prepared an ambuscade, and Po-tai, having reared long scaling ladders against the city walls, now lighted the beacon fire. Not knowing they were betrayed, Wei’s men raced up on seeing the signal and began climbing the ladders as fast as they could, while others were drawn up by ropes lowered from above. More than a hundred of the soldiers entered the city in this way, every one of whom was forthwith beheaded. The rebel leader Li Hsiung then charged with all his forces both inside and outside the city, and routed the enemy completely.
Having converted spies means getting hold of the enemy’s spies and using them for our own purposes: by means of heavy bribes and liberal promises, detaching them from the enemy’s service and inducing them to carry back false information as well as to spy in turn on their own countrymen.
Having doomed spies means doing certain things openly for purposes of deception, and allowing our own spies to know of them and, when betrayed, report them to the enemy. We do things calculated to deceive our own spies, who must be led to believe that they have been unwittingly disclosed. Then, when these spies are captured in the enemy’s lines, they will make an entirely false report, and the enemy will take measures accordingly, only to find that we do something quite different. The spies will thereupon be put to death.
Surviving spies, finally, are those who bring back news from the enemy’s camp. This is the ordinary class of spies, who should form a regular part of the army. Your surviving spy must be a man of keen intellect, though in outward appearance a fool; of shabby exterior, but with a will of iron. He must be active, robust, endowed with physical strength and courage: thoroughly accustomed to all sorts of dirty work, able to endure hunger and cold, and to put up with shame and ignominy.
Once the Emperor T’ai Tsu sent Ta-hsi Wu to spy upon his enemy, Shen-wu of Ch’i. Wu was accompanied by two other men. All three were on horseback and wore the enemy’s uniform.
When it was dark, they dismounted a few hundred feet away from the enemy’s camp and stealthily crept up to listen, until they succeeded in catching the passwords used by the army. Then they got on their horses again and boldly passed through the camp under the guise of night watchmen; and more than once, happening to come across a soldier who was committing some breach of discipline, they actually stopped to give the culprit a sound cudgeling!
Thus they managed to return with the fullest possible information about the enemy’s dispositions, and received warm commendation from the emperor, who in consequence of their report was able to inflict a severe defeat on his adversary.
There must be no more intimate relations in the whole army than those maintained with spies. No other relation should be more liberally rewarded. In no other relation should greater secrecy be preserved.
Spies cannot be usefully employed without a certain intuitive sagacity. Before using spies we must assure ourselves as to their integrity of character and the extent of their experience and skill. A brazen face and a crafty disposition are more dangerous than mountains or rivers; it takes a man of genius to penetrate such.
They cannot be properly managed without benevolence and straightforwardness.
Without subtle ingenuity of mind, one cannot make certain of the truth of their reports.
Be subtle! be subtle! and use your spies for every kind of business.
If a secret piece of news is divulged by a spy before the time is ripe, he must be put to death together with the person to whom the secret was told.
Whether the object be to crush an army, to storm a city, or to assassinate an individual, it is always necessary to begin by finding out the names of the attendants, the aides-de-camp, the doorkeepers, and the sentries of the general in command. Our spies must be commissioned to ascertain these.
The enemy’s spies who have come to spy on us must be sought out, tempted with bribes, led away, and comfortably housed. Thus they will become converted spies and available for our service.
It is through the information brought by the converted spy that we are able to acquire and employ local and inward spies. We must tempt the converted spy into our service, because it is he who knows which of the local inhabitants are greedy of gain, and which of the officials are open to corruption.
It is owing to his information, again, that we can cause the doomed spy to carry false tidings to the enemy.
Lastly, it is by his information that the surviving spy can be used on appointed occasions.
The end and aim of spying in all its five varieties is knowledge of the enemy; and this knowledge can only be derived, in the first instance, from the converted spy. He not only brings information himself, but makes it possible to use the other kinds of spies to advantage. Hence it is essential that the converted spy be treated with the utmost liberality.
Of old, the rise of the Yin dynasty was due to I Chi, who had served under the Hsia. Likewise, the rise of the Chou dynasty was due to Lu Ya, who had served under the Yin.
Hence it is only the enlightened ruler and the wise general who will use the highest intelligence of the army for purposes of spying, and thereby they achieve great results.
Spies are a most important element in war, because upon them depends an army’s ability to move.
In peace prepare for war, in war prepare for peace.
The art of war is of vital importance to the state.
It is a matter of life and death,
a road either to safety or to ruin.
Hence under no circumstances can it
be neglected…
JAMES CLAVELL, author of the best-selling Asian saga (King Rat, Tai-Pan, Shōgun, and Noble House), first heard about Sun Tzu in Hong Kong in 1977. Since then The Art of War has been his constant companion. He referred to it frequently in Noble House. Now he has gone through a 1910 translation of the book and edited it to make it more accessible while preserving its great charm. He has included anecdotal extracts to illustrate and make vivid Sun Tzu’s points. And he has added a foreword of his own. The result is an extraordinary book made relevant by an extraordinary editor.
1 : 2.78 modern li make a mile. The length may have varied slightly since Sun Tzu’s time.
2 : A Chinese unit of weight equal to 133.33 pounds.