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 co-operation, 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 co-operation. 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.