“One of his soldiers was suffering from an abscess, and Wu Ch’i himself sucked out the virus. The soldier’s mother, hearing this, began wailing and lamenting. Somebody asked her, ‘Why do you cry? Your son is only a common soldier, and yet the commander-in-chief himself has sucked the poison from his sore.’ The woman replied, ‘Many years ago, Lord Wu performed a similar service for my husband, who never left him afterwards, and finally met his death at the hands of the enemy. And now that he has done the same for my son, he too will fall fighting I know not where.’ ”
Li Ch’üan mentions the Viscount of Ch’u, who invaded the small state of Hsiao during the winter. The Duke of Shên said to him, “Many of the soldiers are suffering severely from the cold.” So he made a round of the whole army, comforting and encouraging the men; and straight-way they felt as if they were clothed in garments lined with floss silk.
26. If, however, you are indulgent, but unable to make your authority felt; kind-hearted, but unable to enforce your commands; and incapable, moreover, of quelling disorder: then your soldiers must be likened to spoilt children; they are useless for any practical purpose.
An adage states: “Injury comes out of kindness.” Li Ching once said that if you could make your soldiers afraid of you, they would not be afraid of the enemy. Tu Mu recalls an instance of stern military discipline which occurred in 219 A.D., when Lü Mêng was occupying the town of Chiang-ling. He had given stringent orders to his army not to molest the inhabitants nor take anything from them by force.
Nevertheless, a certain officer serving under his banner, who happened to be a fellow-townsman, ventured to appropriate a bamboo hat belonging to one of the people, in order to wear it over his regulation helmet as a protection against the rain. Lü Mêng considered that the fact of his being also a native of Ju-nan should not be allowed to palliate a clear breach of discipline, and accordingly he ordered his summary execution, the tears rolling down his face, however, as he did so. This act of severity filled the army with wholesome awe, and from that time forth even articles dropped in the highway were not picked up.
27. If we know that our own men are in a condition to attack, but are unaware that the enemy is not open to attack, we have gone only halfway towards victory.
That is, as Ts’ao Kung says, “the issue in this case is uncertain.”
28. If we know that the enemy is open to attack, but are unaware that our own men are not in a condition to attack, we have gone only halfway towards victory.
29. If we know that the enemy is open to attack, and also know that our men are in a condition to attack, but are unaware that the nature of the ground makes fighting impracticable, we have still gone only halfway towards victory.
30. Hence the experienced soldier, once in motion, is never bewildered; once he has broken camp, he is never at a loss.
The reason being, according to Tu Mu, that he has taken his measures so thoroughly as to ensure victory beforehand. “He does not move recklessly,” says Chang Yü, “so that when he does move, he makes no mistakes.”
31. Hence the saying: If you know the enemy and know yourself, your victory will not stand in doubt; if you know Heaven and know Earth, you may make your victory complete.
Li Ch’üan sums up as follows: “Given a knowledge of three things—the affairs of man, the seasons of heaven and the natural advantages of earth—victory will invariably crown your battles.”
That the four seasons have regularities is the principle of Heaven and Earth. . . . That three seasons are for coming to completion and achievement and one season [winter] is for punishment and killing is the Dao of Heaven and Earth.
Geoffrey MacCormack, “Mythology and the Origin of Law in Early Chinese Thought” (2001)
XI. THE NINE SITUATIONS
These can include elements of the six geographical features noted in Chapter X, as well as conditions of the army itself—that is, situations as opposed to grounds.
DG
The overwhelming lesson the PLA learned from its brushes with the Americans was the need for speed: “In the Liberation War (in China), we might take days to surround a Kuomintang division, then slowly close the circle around it. With the Americans, if we took more than a few hours, they would bring up reinforcements, aircraft, artillery.”
Yu Xiu, regimental deputy political commissar, on the storming of the 8th Cavalry’s positions (1950)
Wang Hsi . . . says: “There are nine military situations, good and bad.”
1. Sun Tzu 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 valour of desperation, and when they retreat, they will find harbours of refuge.”
3. When he has penetrated into hostile territory, but to no great distance, it is facile ground.
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.
I must apologise for using [“contentious”] in a sense not known to the dictionary, i.e., “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’üan. Thus, Thermopylae was [contentious ground], because the possession of it, even for a few days only, meant holding the entire invading army in check and thus gaining invaluable time. [Wu Tzu writes]: “For those who have to fight in the ratio of one to ten, there is nothing better than a narrow pass.”
When Lü 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, counselled him, saying, “Lü 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 Tzu-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.
Ts’ao Kung [explains this as] “ground covered with a network of roads,” like a chess-board. Another interpretation, suggested by Ho Shih, is “ground on which intercommunication is easy.” In either case, it must evidently be “flat country,” and therefore [it] “cannot be blocked.”
6. Ground which forms the key to three contiguous states,
[Ts’ao Kung writes:] “Our country adjoining the enemy’s and a third country conterminous with both.”
so that he who occupies it first has most of the Empire at his command,
China was divided [into a loose confederacy of states] under the Chou dynasty. 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.” Li Ch’üan instances (1) the victorious march of Yo I into the capital of Ch’i in 284 B.C., and (2) the attack on Ch’u, six years later, by the Ch’in general Po Ch’i.
8. Mountain forests, rugged steeps, marshes and fens—all country that is hard to traverse: this is difficult ground.
Chia Lin explains [steeps, marshes and fens] as ground “that has been ruined by water passing over it,” and Tu Yu simply as “swampy ground.” But Ch’ên Hao says [it refers particularly] to deep hollows—what Chu-ko Liang [designated] “earth-hells.”
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.
As pictured by Ts’ao Kung, . . . here escape is no longer possible: “A lofty mountain in front, a large river behind, advance impossible, retreat blocked.” Ch’ên 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 is 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 in 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 offence 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 Demosthenes.
11. On dispersive ground, therefore, fight not. On facile ground, halt not. On contentious ground, attack not.
But [according to Ts’ao Kung] rather let all your energies be bent on occupying the advantageous position first. Li Ch’üan and others, however, suppose the meaning to be that the enemy has already forestalled us, so that it would be sheer madness to attack. . . .
When the King of Wu inquires what should be done in this case, Sun Tzu 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 [this interpretation follows] that of Chang Yü. [Another interpretation] 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. Wang Hsi points out that “open ground” is only another name for the “accessible ground” described in chapter X, paragraph 2, and says that the advice here given is simply a variation of “keep a sharp eye on the line of supplies,” be careful that your communications are not cut.
On ground of intersecting highways, join hands with your allies.
Or perhaps, “form alliances with neighbouring states.”
No people on earth can be held, as a people, to be an enemy, for all humanity shares the common hunger for peace and fellowship and justice. No nation’s security and well-being can be lastingly achieved in isolation but only in effective cooperation with fellow-nations.
President Dwight David Eisenhower, “The Chance for Peace” (1953)
13. On serious ground, gather in plunder.
On this, Li Ch’üan 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 [in 207 B.C.] was marked by no violation of women or looting of valuables. 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 chapter VIII, paragraph 2, “do not encamp.”
14. On hemmed-in ground, resort to stratagem.
Ts’ao 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 the note for chapter IX, paragraph 24.] 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.
On desperate ground, fight.
For, as Chia Lin remarks, “if you fight with all your might, there is a chance of life; whereas 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; 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’ên 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 Tzu 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.
But . . . I agree with Ch’ên Hao, who says [the text] does not refer only to strategical advantages, but is any person or thing that may happen to be of importance to the enemy. By boldly seizing the initiative in this way, you at once throw the other side on the defensive.