九地

Sunzi said: In the conduct of war, there are nine kinds of ground: dispersive, light, contentious, open, intersecting, serious, difficult, encircled, and desperate.

When feudal lords fight in their own territory, this is dispersive ground.

When you enter enemy territory but not deeply, this is light ground.

Ground that would be advantageous to whichever side holds it is contentious ground.

Ground that both sides can freely traverse is open ground.

Ground that borders three states, where the first to arrive gains the support of the other states, is intersecting ground.

When you penetrate deep into enemy territory with many fortified cities at your back, this is serious ground.

Mountains, forests, defiles, marshes — any terrain that is hard to traverse — this is difficult ground.

Ground where the way in is narrow, the way out is circuitous, and the enemy's few can strike your many — this is encircled ground.

Ground where you survive only by fighting without delay and perish if you do not — this is desperate ground.

Therefore: on dispersive ground, do not fight. On light ground, do not halt. On contentious ground, do not attack. On open ground, do not let your formations be cut off. On intersecting ground, form alliances. On serious ground, plunder for supplies. On difficult ground, press on. On encircled ground, devise stratagems. On desperate ground, fight.

Those who were skilled in war in ancient times could make the enemy's vanguard and rear unable to support each other, large and small units unable to rely on one another, officers and soldiers unable to rescue each other, superiors and subordinates unable to rally together — his troops scattered and unable to reassemble, his formations joined yet out of alignment.

They moved when it served their advantage and halted when it did not.

Dare I ask: "If the enemy appears in great numbers and good order, how should one respond?"

The answer: "Seize what he loves, and he will comply."

The essence of warfare is speed — exploit the enemy's unreadiness, advance by unexpected routes, strike where he has not taken precautions.

The general principle of operating as an invader: penetrate deep and your troops will hold together — the defenders cannot overcome you. Plunder fertile country and your army will have enough to eat. Tend your men carefully and do not overwork them. Concentrate your energy and build your strength. Keep your forces moving and your plans unfathomable.

Throw your troops where there is no escape, and they will choose death over flight. When they face death, what can they not achieve? Officers and soldiers alike will give their utmost.

Soldiers in desperate straits lose their fear. Where there is nowhere to go, they stand firm. Deep in enemy territory, they hold together. With no alternative, they fight.

Therefore such troops are vigilant without being drilled, dedicated without being asked, loyal without compacts, obedient without commands. Ban superstition, dispel doubts — and they will follow you to death without turning back.

My soldiers have no surplus possessions — not because they disdain wealth. They have no expectation of long life — not because they disdain longevity.

On the day the order is issued, the tears of the soldiers seated soak their collars; the tears of those lying down stream down their cheeks.

But throw them where there is no escape, and they will show the courage of Zhuan Zhu and Cao Gui.

The skilled commander directs his army as though it were the Shuairan. The Shuairan is a snake found on Mount Chang. Strike its head and the tail attacks; strike its tail and the head attacks; strike its middle and both head and tail attack.

Dare I ask: "Can an army be made to act like the Shuairan?"

The answer: "It can. The men of Wu and the men of Yue hate each other. Yet when they cross a river in the same boat and are caught by a storm, they rescue each other as naturally as the left hand aids the right."

Therefore tethering horses and burying chariot wheels is not enough to ensure steadfastness. To unify courage throughout the ranks — that is the way of good administration. To make the strong and the weak both contribute — that is the principle of terrain.

Thus the skilled commander leads his entire army as though leading a single person by the hand. He does so by leaving them no alternative.

The general's business: be calm and inscrutable, upright and disciplined.

Blind your soldiers' eyes and ears so they know nothing. Change your plans, alter your strategies, so that no one can discern them. Shift your camps, take indirect routes, so that no one can anticipate you.

When the general sets the decisive moment for his troops, it is like climbing a height and kicking away the ladder. When he leads them deep into enemy territory and pulls the trigger, he burns the boats and smashes the cooking pots. He drives his men like a flock of sheep — driven here, driven there, and none know where they are going.

To assemble the mass of his army and throw it into danger — this is the general's business. The shifting advantages of the nine grounds, the logic of contraction and expansion, the patterns of human feeling — these must be studied carefully.

The general rule for invading forces: the deeper you penetrate, the more cohesive your troops become; the shallower, the more they scatter.

When you leave your country and cross the border to wage war, that is cut-off ground. Where roads lead in four directions, that is intersecting ground. Where you penetrate deep, that is serious ground. Where you penetrate only slightly, that is light ground. Where strongholds lie behind you and narrows before you, that is encircled ground. Where there is no way out, that is desperate ground.

Therefore: on dispersive ground, I would unify my troops' will. On light ground, I would keep them closely connected. On contentious ground, I would hurry up my rear elements. On open ground, I would attend carefully to defense. On intersecting ground, I would strengthen my alliances. On serious ground, I would ensure a continuous flow of provisions. On difficult ground, I would press on quickly along the road. On encircled ground, I would block the gaps. On desperate ground, I would make clear that there is no chance of survival.

The nature of soldiers is this: when surrounded, they resist; when left no choice, they fight; when pushed past the limit, they obey.

He who does not know the designs of the feudal lords cannot form alliances in advance. He who does not know the lay of mountains, forests, defiles, and marshes cannot march his army. He who does not use local guides cannot exploit the advantages of the ground. If you are ignorant of even one of these four or five factors, yours is not the army of a hegemon king.

When the army of a hegemon king attacks a great state, the enemy cannot mass his forces. When its power overawes the enemy, the enemy's alliances cannot hold together.

Therefore: do not contend for alliances with all the world; do not cultivate power across all the world. Pursue your own strategic aims. Bring your power to bear on the enemy — and his cities can be taken, his state can be destroyed.

Bestow rewards beyond the ordinary rules; issue orders beyond the ordinary regulations. Direct the entire army as you would a single man. Set them to their tasks — do not explain your reasoning. Show them the advantages — do not tell them of the dangers.

Throw your men onto ground where there is no survival and they will survive. Plunge them into desperate ground and they will live. For only when the army has been plunged into harm can it snatch victory from defeat.

The art of warfare lies in pretending to comply with the enemy's intentions while concentrating your force in a single direction. Then, even across a thousand li, you can kill his general. This is called accomplishing great things through cunning.

On the day war is declared: close the passes, destroy the tallies, and cut off all diplomatic envoys. Deliberate in the ancestral temple to finalize the plan.

When the enemy presents an opening, you must rush in. Seize what he values first. Do not fix a timetable — let the enemy's movements determine your own, and so decide the battle.

Therefore: at first, be like a maiden — and the enemy will open his door. Then be like a hare breaking free — and the enemy will be too late to resist.