INTRODUCTION.
I.
The Japanese, who until recent times, were the disciples of the Chinese, and the latter, who sit at the feet of antiquity, go back some way for their authorities on War. Sonshi[1] the most celebrated lived during the Shu (周) dynasty of China, about 550 B.C, and whether or no reluctance to disturb ancient axioms curbs further original efforts, subsequent writers have largely confined themselves to commentating the Master’s teachings.
The broad rules of War are unchanging, and much of Sonshi is curiously modern in its application. Contrasted with Western works on strategy, it deals rather with the human, or moral side which we nowadays take for granted, and so overlook. The Chinese are not by nature soldiers, nor had the ruling powers ever a strong hold over the people; discipline was lax; and further, with vast capacity for intrigue, generals and others had little patriotism, and were easily bought.
Hence the need for diplomacy and the importance of spies; the need for considering the temper of the troops; and the sages insistent, "know your own side!”
Sonshi’s preference for the defence is perhaps accounted for by the Chinese nature,—slow, ceremonious, and lacking in dash. His advice is ever to move warily at first, and not to attack until the enemy has committed himself. He has a horror of sieges, frontal attacks and assaults, and an Eastern love of crafty and subtle methods.
In short, Sonshi's cardinal rules are: preparation; a thoroughly thought out plan of campaign; importance of intelligence and knowledge of the ground; variety and non dependence on book or rule; and quickness to take and press advantage. From the literary point of view Sonshi has a high place and many of his sayings have passed into common use. In an English translation however, it is impossible to suggest the beauties of Chinese prose. Only the bare bones of meaning—often obscure—appear.
The extraordinary terseness, the stately procession of giant parts of speech, unattended by any articles, pronouns or the pawns of grammar, seem to suit the character of a book on war: but the thought which the writer compresses, is apt to take a different form when unfolded by the reader. The exaggeration and the grandiloquent phrasing drown precision; and the reiteration, which in Chinese seems to act like the refrain of a song, is in English tedious. Thus Plain Meaning is sacrificed to Style, and thus arises the need for commentators, who cluster in armies round the Chinese sages.
Sonshi is one of the "Shichisho” (七書), a collection, of the leading Chinese authorities on War. The others are of lesser importance. Sonshi’s commentators have also been sifted, and the best brought together in a collection called "The Ten Critics," (十家註) This, among others, has been consulted in the present translation.
II.
Sonshi, who as far as can be ascertained, was a contemporary of Confucius, lived at a time when China, nominally under one ruler, was divided into a number of different states (at one time some forty in number), continually at war.
These wars were not merely savage raids, but were conducted with a vast amount of intrigue and deep thinking. Strategy was highly specialised, and schools of strategy existed, which, however, were apt to ignore what Western minds consider main issues; and differ in regard to some subtle point, much after the manner of the sects of Buddhism.
In any case, the Chinese realised to the full that war was a matter for a specialist. Behind the popular general or the ambitious ruler was the strategist, who evolved the plan of campaign, and, it must be added, consulted the stars and the ancient books for signs and indications. An account of Sonshi, who was one of these professional, strategists, is written in the Chinese history called Shiki(史記, a collection of the lives of celebrated men. Although giving no more than an incident in his life, it is included here as throwing some little light on the history of the time. No further facts about Sonshi appear to be known.
His other name was Bu, and his native place was in the province of Sei in South China. He was at one time in the employment of Katsuryo, the lord of the province of Go, which kingdom rose to considerable importance mainly owing to his talents.
The manner of his first meeting with Katsuryo, and what led to his employment in the latter’s service were as follows. Katsuryo told him that he had read his (Sonshi’s) thirteen articles, and approved them in theory; but that now he required a practical demonstration of them. Sonshi agreed; and for this purpose asked that he might be allowed to manœuvre the king's wives and women of the palace. There were 185: dividing them into two parties, he put one of the king’s favorite wives in command of each.
He then explained to them their duties. When he gave the order "Left Turn,” they were to move in the direction of their left hand; when he gave the order "Forward" in the direction in which they were facing; and similarly for right and rear.
Having explained these things three times, he gave a signal on the drum for the manœuvre to commence. But the leaders only giggled; so Sonshi, feeling that his instructions might have been misunderstood, again repeated what they were to do. Once more he announced to the King on his dais that the fight was about to begin, and the signal drum was beaten. The girls laughed again. This time Sonshi said, "My instructions were clear; this time it is the fault of my lieutenants, the punishment of disobedience is death"; and with that he gave orders that they should be beheaded.
Thus far the king did not wish to go, and sent down a messenger to Sonshi to say that he was already perfectly satisfied with the exposition, but that if these two wives were beheaded food would have no taste for him; he begged Sonshi to stay his hand.
To this Sonshi replied that he had been intrusted with the army; that the king knew that interference with the general in the field was, vide The Articles, a grave error; and that therefore he must set aside this message from home. The two leaders were beheaded before their companies, and two others put in their place, who, fearful of meeting the same fate, made excellent leaders.
This is all that Chinese history has to say about Sonshi; but with its usual irrevelance, and as if to make good the deficiency, the following story is told of his descendant, Sonpin (孫臏), who lived some 145 years later.
In his youth Sonpin had studied war under a certain master, in company with a man called Hoken. The latter afterwards entered the service of a state, and rising to be generalissimo, had great ambitions, but felt that he had a superior in the art of war in Sonpin, his fellow student of former days.
He heard that Sonpin was still unemployed, and conceiving base designs, he asked the latter to come and see him. Sonpin hastened gladly to see his old schoolmate, but did not get a reception suitable to a friend of long standing. Hoken treated him as a criminal, branded his forehead, and cut the tendons of his legs; then, thinking that Sonpin was no longer in a position to use his talents, turned him adrift.
At that time an envoy from a neighbouring state was about to return to his court; to him Sonpin went and told his story. The envoy, feeling that notwithstanding the loss of his legs, Sonpin might be of service to his lord, hid him in his wagon, and took him back to his country.
Sonpin’s services were retained, and in a succeeding war, his advice giving victory, he was offered the surpreme command. He however refused to displace the then Commander in Chief, to whom the soldiers gave loyal support, and preferred to remain Chief of the staff.
Then came his opportunity. A neighbouring state asked for help against the country of which Hoken was generalissimo. The army was set in motion, and Sonpin, riding in a wagon, considered the plan of campaign. Instead of proceeding to the scene of hostilities, Sonpin placed the army across Hoken’s line of communications, which quickly drew the latter thither. Now, Sonpin knowing that Hoken diligently followed the teachings of his forefather Sonshi, felt that he could foretell Hoken’s procedure.
It is written in the thirteen articles that a forced march of twenty leagues in one day reduces the striking force by one half, owing to stragglers and weak men.
He retreated before Hoken, and that night caused 10,000 camp fires to be lighted in the bivouac. The next day he again retreated twenty leagues, and caused only 5,000 camp fires to be lighted. The following day the number of fires was 2,000, but the number of his men was the same as at the first. Then retreating further, he took up a position in a defile which he calculated Hoken would reach shortly after dark. There was there a large tree, and, stripping from it the bark, he caused to be written
"Under this tree will Hoken die".
Placing his best archers within bowshot he gave them orders to shoot when they saw the striking of a light under the tree.
Meanwhile Hoken, noting the diminution in the camp fires, and assuming in accordance with the book, that Sonpin’s army was crippled to that extent, had pushed on with only a small force, and reached the defile shortly after sunset. Struck by the shaven appearance, and what looked like characters on the tree, he struck a light and was immediately riddled by arrows.
The historian explains this seeming refutation of Sonshi's doctrines by saying that Hoken placed too much reliance on the book, and so forgot one of the Sage’s cardinal principles.
- ↑ Names are written as pronounced in Japan. In this case "Son" is the writers name; "Shi” is an honorific Suffix.