Art of War (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (50 page)

Though it is impossible to account for the present state of Sun Tzu’s text, a few suggestive facts may be brought into prominence: (1) chapter VIII, according to the title, should deal with nine variations, whereas only five appear. (2) It is an abnormally short chapter. (3) Chapter 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 Tzu’s work cannot have come down to us in the shape in which it left his hands: chapter 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 Yü] alludes to the conduct of Pan Ch’ao’s devoted followers in 73 A.D.: “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 behaviour underwent a sudden change, and he became remiss and negligent. Pan Ch’ao spoke about this to the officers of his suite: ‘Have you not 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 days 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-nu 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-nu, 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 chapter XII, paragraph 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 sentences are repeated from chapter VII, paragraphs 12-14—in order to emphasise 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 Tzu might have added that there is always the risk of going wrong, either through their treachery or some misunderstanding . . . : 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 Car- thaginian 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.

This mistake almost cost Hannibal his army: The troops were hemmed in by the mountains on either side of the route to Casilinum. The Roman commander, Fabius, figured he had Hannibal trapped. But in one of military history’s greatest ruses, Hannibal, in a tactic similar to what T’ien Tan had used in China some sixty years earlier, took advantage of the cover of night, disguised cattle with fire to surprise and terrify his enemy, and escaped. See the note for chapter IX, paragraph 24. DG

53. To be ignorant of any one of the following four or five principles does not befit a warlike prince.

 

“One who rules by force,” was a term specially used for those princes who established their hegemony over other feudal states. The famous “warlike princes” of the 7th century B.C. were (1) Duke Huan of Ch’i, (2) Duke Wên of Chin, (3) Duke Hsiang of Sung, (4) Prince Chuang of Ch’u, and (5) Duke Mu of Ch’in. Their reigns covered the period 685-591 B.C.

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 Yao-ch’ên 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.” . . .

Ch’ên Hao and Chang Yü 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 Yü 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.