1 No life man
Chapter 1: One Man, 100,000 Words
We live in a culture that promotes democratic values
of being fair to one and all, the importance of fitting
into a group, and knowing how to cooperate with
other people. We are taught early on in life that those
who are outwardly combative and aggressive pay a
social price: unpopularity and isolation. These values
of harmony and cooperation are perpetuated in subtle
and not-so-subtle ways--through books on how to be
successful in life; through the pleasant, peaceful
exteriors that those who have gotten ahead in the
world present to the public; through notions of
correctness that saturate the public space. The
problem for us is that we are trained and prepared for
peace, and we are not at all prepared for what
confronts us in the real world--war.
The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
JOB 7:1
Qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (let him
who wants peace prepare for war)
VEGETIUS, A.D. FOURTH CENTURY
This war exists on several levels. Most obviously,
we have our rivals on the other side. The world has
become increasingly competitive and nasty. In
politics, business, even the arts, we face opponents
who will do almost anything to gain an edge. More
troubling and complex, however, are the battles we
face with those who are supposedly on our side.
There are those who outwardly play the team game,
who act very friendly and agreeable, but who
sabotage us behind the scenes, use the group to
promote their own agenda. Others, more difficult to
spot, play subtle games of passive aggression,
offering help that never comes, instilling guilt as a
secret weapon. On the surface everything seems
peaceful enough, but just below it, it is every man and
woman for him-or herself, this dynamic infecting even
families and relationships. The culture may deny this
reality and promote a gentler picture, but we know it
and feel it, in our battle scars.
It is not that we and our colleagues are ignoble
creatures who fail to live up to ideals of peace and
selflessness, but that we cannot help the way we are. We have aggressive impulses that are impossible to
ignore or repress. In the past, individuals could expect
a group--the state, an extended family, a company--to
take care of them, but this is no longer the case, and
in this uncaring world we have to think first and
foremost of ourselves and our interests. What we
need are not impossible and inhuman ideals of peace
and cooperation to live up to, and the confusion that
brings us, but rather practical knowledge on how to
deal with conflict and the daily battles we face. And
this knowledge is not about how to be more forceful in
getting what we want or defending ourselves but
rather how to be more rational and strategic when it
comes to conflict, channeling our aggressive
impulses instead of denying or repressing them. If
there is an ideal to aim for, it should be that of the
strategic warrior, the man or woman who manages
difficult situations and people through deft and
intelligent maneuver.
[Strategy] is more than a science: it is the
application of knowledge to practical life, the
development of thought capable of modifying
the original guiding idea in the light of everchanging
situations; it is the art of acting under
the pressure of the most difficult conditions.
HELMUTH VON MOLTKE, 1800-1891
Many psychologists and sociologists have argued
that it is through conflict that problems are often
solved and real differences reconciled. Our
successes and failures in life can be traced to how
well or how badly we deal with the inevitable conflicts
that confront us in society. The common ways that
people deal with them--trying to avoid all conflict,
getting emotional and lashing out, turning sly and manipulative--are all counterproductive in the long run,
because they are not under conscious and rational
control and often make the situation worse. Strategic
warriors operate much differently. They think ahead
toward their long-term goals, decide which fights to
avoid and which are inevitable, know how to control
and channel their emotions. When forced to fight, they
do so with indirection and subtle maneuver, making
their manipulations hard to trace. In this way they can maintain the peaceful exterior so cherished in these
political times.
This ideal of fighting rationally comes to us from
organized warfare, where the art of strategy was
invented and refined. In the beginning, war was not at
all strategic. Battles between tribes were fought in a
brutal manner, a kind of ritual of violence in which
individuals could display their heroism. But as tribes
expanded and evolved into states, it became all too
apparent that war had too many hidden costs, that
waging it blindly often led to exhaustion and selfdestruction,
even for the victor. Somehow wars had to
be fought more rationally.
The word "strategy" comes from the ancient Greek
word strategos, meaning literally "the leader of the
army." Strategy in this sense was the art of
generalship, of commanding the entire war effort,
deciding what formations to deploy, what terrain to
fight on, what maneuvers to use to gain an edge. And
as this knowledge progressed, military leaders
discovered that the more they thought and planned
ahead, the more possibilities they had for success.
Novel strategies could allow them to defeat much
larger armies, as Alexander the Great did in his
victories over the Persians. In facing savvy opponents
who were also using strategy, there developed an
upward pressure: to gain an advantage, a general
had to be even more strategic, more indirect and
clever, than the other side. Over time the arts of
generalship became steadily more sophisticated, as more strategies were invented.
Although the word "strategy" itself is Greek in
origin, the concept appears in all cultures, in all
periods. Solid principles on how to deal with the
inevitable accidents of war, how to craft the ultimate
plan, how to best organize the army--all of this can be
found in war manuals from ancient China to modern
Europe. The counterattack, the flanking or enveloping maneuver, and the arts of deception are common to
the armies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and the Zulu
king Shaka. As a whole, these principles and
strategies indicate a kind of universal military
wisdom, a set of adaptable patterns that can increase
the chances for victory.
"Well, then, my boy, develop your strategy So
that prizes in games won't elude your grasp.
Strategy makes a better woodcutter than
strength. Strategy keeps a pilot's ship on course
When crosswinds blowit over the wine-blue sea.
And strategy wins races for charioteers. One
type of driver trusts his horses and car And
swerves mindlessly this way and that, All over
the course, without reining his horses. But a
man who knows how to win with lesser horses
Keeps his eye on the post and cuts the turn
close, And from the start keeps tension on the
reins With a firm hand as he watches the
leader."
THE ILIAD, HOMER, CIRCA NINTH CENTURY
B.C.
Perhaps the greatest strategist of them all was
Sun-tzu, author of the ancient Chinese classic The Art
of War. In his book, written probably the fourth century
B.C., can be found traces of almost all the strategic
patterns and principles later developed over the
course of centuries. But what connects them, in fact
what constitutes the art of war itself in Sun-tzu's eyes,
is the ideal of winning without bloodshed. By playing
on the psychological weaknesses of the opponent, by maneuvering him into precarious positions, by
inducing feelings of frustration and confusion, a
strategist can get the other side to break down mentally before surrendering physically. In this way
victory can be had at a much lower cost.And the state
that wins wars with few lives lost and resources
squandered is the state that can thrive over greater
periods of time. Certainly most wars are not waged
so rationally, but those campaigns in history that have
followed this principle (Scipio Africanus in Spain,
Napoleon at Ulm, T. E. Lawrence in the desert
campaigns of World War I) stand out above the rest
and serve as the ideal. War is not some separate realm divorced from the
rest of society. It is an eminently human arena, full of
the best and the worst of our nature. War also reflects
trends in society. The evolution toward more
unconventional, dirtier strategies--guerrilla warfare,
terrorism--mirrors a similar evolution in society, where
almost anything goes. The strategies that succeed in
war, whether conventional or unconventional, are
based on timeless psychology, and great military
failures have much to teach us about human stupidity
and the limits of force in any arena. The strategic
ideal in war--being supremely rational and emotionally
balanced, striving to win with minimum bloodshed and
loss of resources--has infinite application and
relevance to our daily battles.
Inculcated with the values of our times, many will
argue that organized war is inherently barbaric--a relic
of man's violent past and something to be overcome
for good. To promote the arts of warfare in a social
setting, they will say, is to stand in the way of progress
and to encourage conflict and dissension. Isn't there
enough of that in the world? This argument is very
seductive, but not at all reasonable. There will always
be those in society and in the world at large who are more aggressive than we are, who find ways to get
what they want, by hook or by crook. We must be
vigilant and must know how to defend ourselves
against such types. Civilized values are not furthered
if we are forced to surrender to those who are crafty
and strong. In fact, being pacifists in the face of such
wolves is the source of endless tragedy.
The self is the friend of a man who masters
himself through the self, but for a man without
self-mastery, the self is like an enemy at war.
THE BHAGAVAD GITA, INDIA, CIRCA A.D.
FIRST CENTURY
Mahatma Gandhi, who elevated nonviolence into a
great weapon for social change, had one simple goal
later on in his life: to rid India of the British overlords
who had crippled it for so many centuries. The British
were clever rulers. Gandhi understood that if
nonviolence were to work, it would have to be
extremely strategic, demanding much thought and
planning. He went so far as to call nonviolence a new
way of waging war. To promote any value, even
peace and pacifism, you must be willing to fight for it
and to aim at results--not simply the good, warm
feeling that expressing such ideas might bring you.
The moment you aim for results, you are in the realm
of strategy. War and strategy have an inexorable
logic: if you want or desire anything, you must be
ready and able to fight for it.
Others will argue that war and strategy are primarily matters that concern men, particularly those who are
aggressive or among the power elite. The study of
war and strategy, they will say, is a masculine, elitist,
and repressive pursuit, a way for power to perpetuate
itself. Such an argument is dangerous nonsense. In
the beginning, strategy indeed belonged to a select
few--a general, his staff, the king, a handful of
courtiers. Soldiers were not taught strategy, for that
would not have helped them on the battlefield.
Besides, it was unwise to arm one's soldiers with the
kind of practical knowledge that could help them to
organize a mutiny or rebellion. The era of colonialismWe live in a culture that promotes democratic values
of being fair to one and all, the importance of fitting
into a group, and knowing how to cooperate with
other people. We are taught early on in life that those
who are outwardly combative and aggressive pay a
social price: unpopularity and isolation. These values
of harmony and cooperation are perpetuated in subtle
and not-so-subtle ways--through books on how to be
successful in life; through the pleasant, peaceful
exteriors that those who have gotten ahead in the
world present to the public; through notions of
correctness that saturate the public space. The
problem for us is that we are trained and prepared for
peace, and we are not at all prepared for what
confronts us in the real world--war.
The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
JOB 7:1
Qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (let him
who wants peace prepare for war)
VEGETIUS, A.D. FOURTH CENTURY
This war exists on several levels. Most obviously,
we have our rivals on the other side. The world has
become increasingly competitive and nasty. In
politics, business, even the arts, we face opponents
who will do almost anything to gain an edge. More
troubling and complex, however, are the battles we
face with those who are supposedly on our side.
There are those who outwardly play the team game,
who act very friendly and agreeable, but who
sabotage us behind the scenes, use the group to
promote their own agenda. Others, more difficult to
spot, play subtle games of passive aggression,
offering help that never comes, instilling guilt as a
secret weapon. On the surface everything seems
peaceful enough, but just below it, it is every man and
woman for him-or herself, this dynamic infecting even
families and relationships. The culture may deny this
reality and promote a gentler picture, but we know it
and feel it, in our battle scars.
It is not that we and our colleagues are ignoble
creatures who fail to live up to ideals of peace and
selflessness, but that we cannot help the way we are. We have aggressive impulses that are impossible to
ignore or repress. In the past, individuals could expect
a group--the state, an extended family, a company--to
take care of them, but this is no longer the case, and
in this uncaring world we have to think first and
foremost of ourselves and our interests. What we
need are not impossible and inhuman ideals of peace
and cooperation to live up to, and the confusion that
brings us, but rather practical knowledge on how to
deal with conflict and the daily battles we face. And
this knowledge is not about how to be more forceful in
getting what we want or defending ourselves but
rather how to be more rational and strategic when it
comes to conflict, channeling our aggressive
impulses instead of denying or repressing them. If
there is an ideal to aim for, it should be that of the
strategic warrior, the man or woman who manages
difficult situations and people through deft and
intelligent maneuver.
[Strategy] is more than a science: it is the
application of knowledge to practical life, the
development of thought capable of modifying
the original guiding idea in the light of everchanging
situations; it is the art of acting under
the pressure of the most difficult conditions.
HELMUTH VON MOLTKE, 1800-1891
Many psychologists and sociologists have argued
that it is through conflict that problems are often
solved and real differences reconciled. Our
successes and failures in life can be traced to how
well or how badly we deal with the inevitable conflicts
that confront us in society. The common ways that
people deal with them--trying to avoid all conflict,
getting emotional and lashing out, turning sly and manipulative--are all counterproductive in the long run,
because they are not under conscious and rational
control and often make the situation worse. Strategic
warriors operate much differently. They think ahead
toward their long-term goals, decide which fights to
avoid and which are inevitable, know how to control
and channel their emotions. When forced to fight, they
do so with indirection and subtle maneuver, making
their manipulations hard to trace. In this way they can maintain the peaceful exterior so cherished in these
political times.
This ideal of fighting rationally comes to us from
organized warfare, where the art of strategy was
invented and refined. In the beginning, war was not at
all strategic. Battles between tribes were fought in a
brutal manner, a kind of ritual of violence in which
individuals could display their heroism. But as tribes
expanded and evolved into states, it became all too
apparent that war had too many hidden costs, that
waging it blindly often led to exhaustion and selfdestruction,
even for the victor. Somehow wars had to
be fought more rationally.
The word "strategy" comes from the ancient Greek
word strategos, meaning literally "the leader of the
army." Strategy in this sense was the art of
generalship, of commanding the entire war effort,
deciding what formations to deploy, what terrain to
fight on, what maneuvers to use to gain an edge. And
as this knowledge progressed, military leaders
discovered that the more they thought and planned
ahead, the more possibilities they had for success.
Novel strategies could allow them to defeat much
larger armies, as Alexander the Great did in his
victories over the Persians. In facing savvy opponents
who were also using strategy, there developed an
upward pressure: to gain an advantage, a general
had to be even more strategic, more indirect and
clever, than the other side. Over time the arts of
generalship became steadily more sophisticated, as more strategies were invented.
Although the word "strategy" itself is Greek in
origin, the concept appears in all cultures, in all
periods. Solid principles on how to deal with the
inevitable accidents of war, how to craft the ultimate
plan, how to best organize the army--all of this can be
found in war manuals from ancient China to modern
Europe. The counterattack, the flanking or enveloping maneuver, and the arts of deception are common to
the armies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and the Zulu
king Shaka. As a whole, these principles and
strategies indicate a kind of universal military
wisdom, a set of adaptable patterns that can increase
the chances for victory.
"Well, then, my boy, develop your strategy So
that prizes in games won't elude your grasp.
Strategy makes a better woodcutter than
strength. Strategy keeps a pilot's ship on course
When crosswinds blowit over the wine-blue sea.
And strategy wins races for charioteers. One
type of driver trusts his horses and car And
swerves mindlessly this way and that, All over
the course, without reining his horses. But a
man who knows how to win with lesser horses
Keeps his eye on the post and cuts the turn
close, And from the start keeps tension on the
reins With a firm hand as he watches the
leader."
THE ILIAD, HOMER, CIRCA NINTH CENTURY
B.C.
Perhaps the greatest strategist of them all was
Sun-tzu, author of the ancient Chinese classic The Art
of War. In his book, written probably the fourth century
B.C., can be found traces of almost all the strategic
patterns and principles later developed over the
course of centuries. But what connects them, in fact
what constitutes the art of war itself in Sun-tzu's eyes,
is the ideal of winning without bloodshed. By playing
on the psychological weaknesses of the opponent, by maneuvering him into precarious positions, by
inducing feelings of frustration and confusion, a
strategist can get the other side to break down mentally before surrendering physically. In this way
victory can be had at a much lower cost.And the state
that wins wars with few lives lost and resources
squandered is the state that can thrive over greater
periods of time. Certainly most wars are not waged
so rationally, but those campaigns in history that have
followed this principle (Scipio Africanus in Spain,
Napoleon at Ulm, T. E. Lawrence in the desert
campaigns of World War I) stand out above the rest
and serve as the ideal. War is not some separate realm divorced from the
rest of society. It is an eminently human arena, full of
the best and the worst of our nature. War also reflects
trends in society. The evolution toward more
unconventional, dirtier strategies--guerrilla warfare,
terrorism--mirrors a similar evolution in society, where
almost anything goes. The strategies that succeed in
war, whether conventional or unconventional, are
based on timeless psychology, and great military
failures have much to teach us about human stupidity
and the limits of force in any arena. The strategic
ideal in war--being supremely rational and emotionally
balanced, striving to win with minimum bloodshed and
loss of resources--has infinite application and
relevance to our daily battles.
Inculcated with the values of our times, many will
argue that organized war is inherently barbaric--a relic
of man's violent past and something to be overcome
for good. To promote the arts of warfare in a social
setting, they will say, is to stand in the way of progress
and to encourage conflict and dissension. Isn't there
enough of that in the world? This argument is very
seductive, but not at all reasonable. There will always
be those in society and in the world at large who are more aggressive than we are, who find ways to get
what they want, by hook or by crook. We must be
vigilant and must know how to defend ourselves
against such types. Civilized values are not furthered
if we are forced to surrender to those who are crafty
and strong. In fact, being pacifists in the face of such
wolves is the source of endless tragedy.
The self is the friend of a man who masters
himself through the self, but for a man without
self-mastery, the self is like an enemy at war.
THE BHAGAVAD GITA, INDIA, CIRCA A.D.
FIRST CENTURY
Mahatma Gandhi, who elevated nonviolence into a
great weapon for social change, had one simple goal
later on in his life: to rid India of the British overlords
who had crippled it for so many centuries. The British
were clever rulers. Gandhi understood that if
nonviolence were to work, it would have to be
extremely strategic, demanding much thought and
planning. He went so far as to call nonviolence a new
way of waging war. To promote any value, even
peace and pacifism, you must be willing to fight for it
and to aim at results--not simply the good, warm
feeling that expressing such ideas might bring you.
The moment you aim for results, you are in the realm
of strategy. War and strategy have an inexorable
logic: if you want or desire anything, you must be
ready and able to fight for it.
Others will argue that war and strategy are primarily matters that concern men, particularly those who are
aggressive or among the power elite. The study of
war and strategy, they will say, is a masculine, elitist,
and repressive pursuit, a way for power to perpetuate
itself. Such an argument is dangerous nonsense. In
the beginning, strategy indeed belonged to a select
few--a general, his staff, the king, a handful of
courtiers. Soldiers were not taught strategy, for that
would not have helped them on the battlefield.
Besides, it was unwise to arm one's soldiers with the
kind of practical knowledge that could help them to
organize a mutiny or rebellion. The era of colonialism
We live in a culture that promotes democratic values
of being fair to one and all, the importance of fitting
into a group, and knowing how to cooperate with
other people. We are taught early on in life that those
who are outwardly combative and aggressive pay a
social price: unpopularity and isolation. These values
of harmony and cooperation are perpetuated in subtle
and not-so-subtle ways--through books on how to be
successful in life; through the pleasant, peaceful
exteriors that those who have gotten ahead in the
world present to the public; through notions of
correctness that saturate the public space. The
problem for us is that we are trained and prepared for
peace, and we are not at all prepared for what
confronts us in the real world--war.
The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
JOB 7:1
Qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (let him
who wants peace prepare for war)
VEGETIUS, A.D. FOURTH CENTURY
This war exists on several levels. Most obviously,
we have our rivals on the other side. The world has
become increasingly competitive and nasty. In
politics, business, even the arts, we face opponents
who will do almost anything to gain an edge. More
troubling and complex, however, are the battles we
face with those who are supposedly on our side.
There are those who outwardly play the team game,
who act very friendly and agreeable, but who
sabotage us behind the scenes, use the group to
promote their own agenda. Others, more difficult to
spot, play subtle games of passive aggression,
offering help that never comes, instilling guilt as a
secret weapon. On the surface everything seems
peaceful enough, but just below it, it is every man and
woman for him-or herself, this dynamic infecting even
families and relationships. The culture may deny this
reality and promote a gentler picture, but we know it
and feel it, in our battle scars.
It is not that we and our colleagues are ignoble
creatures who fail to live up to ideals of peace and
selflessness, but that we cannot help the way we are. We have aggressive impulses that are impossible to
ignore or repress. In the past, individuals could expect
a group--the state, an extended family, a company--to
take care of them, but this is no longer the case, and
in this uncaring world we have to think first and
foremost of ourselves and our interests. What we
need are not impossible and inhuman ideals of peace
and cooperation to live up to, and the confusion that
brings us, but rather practical knowledge on how to
deal with conflict and the daily battles we face. And
this knowledge is not about how to be more forceful in
getting what we want or defending ourselves but
rather how to be more rational and strategic when it
comes to conflict, channeling our aggressive
impulses instead of denying or repressing them. If
there is an ideal to aim for, it should be that of the
strategic warrior, the man or woman who manages
difficult situations and people through deft and
intelligent maneuver.
[Strategy] is more than a science: it is the
application of knowledge to practical life, the
development of thought capable of modifying
the original guiding idea in the light of everchanging
situations; it is the art of acting under
the pressure of the most difficult conditions.
HELMUTH VON MOLTKE, 1800-1891
Many psychologists and sociologists have argued
that it is through conflict that problems are often
solved and real differences reconciled. Our
successes and failures in life can be traced to how
well or how badly we deal with the inevitable conflicts
that confront us in society. The common ways that
people deal with them--trying to avoid all conflict,
getting emotional and lashing out, turning sly and manipulative--are all counterproductive in the long run,
because they are not under conscious and rational
control and often make the situation worse. Strategic
warriors operate much differently. They think ahead
toward their long-term goals, decide which fights to
avoid and which are inevitable, know how to control
and channel their emotions. When forced to fight, they
do so with indirection and subtle maneuver, making
their manipulations hard to trace. In this way they can maintain the peaceful exterior so cherished in these
political times.
This ideal of fighting rationally comes to us from
organized warfare, where the art of strategy was
invented and refined. In the beginning, war was not at
all strategic. Battles between tribes were fought in a
brutal manner, a kind of ritual of violence in which
individuals could display their heroism. But as tribes
expanded and evolved into states, it became all too
apparent that war had too many hidden costs, that
waging it blindly often led to exhaustion and selfdestruction,
even for the victor. Somehow wars had to
be fought more rationally.
The word "strategy" comes from the ancient Greek
word strategos, meaning literally "the leader of the
army." Strategy in this sense was the art of
generalship, of commanding the entire war effort,
deciding what formations to deploy, what terrain to
fight on, what maneuvers to use to gain an edge. And
as this knowledge progressed, military leaders
discovered that the more they thought and planned
ahead, the more possibilities they had for success.
Novel strategies could allow them to defeat much
larger armies, as Alexander the Great did in his
victories over the Persians. In facing savvy opponents
who were also using strategy, there developed an
upward pressure: to gain an advantage, a general
had to be even more strategic, more indirect and
clever, than the other side. Over time the arts of
generalship became steadily more sophisticated, as more strategies were invented.
Although the word "strategy" itself is Greek in
origin, the concept appears in all cultures, in all
periods. Solid principles on how to deal with the
inevitable accidents of war, how to craft the ultimate
plan, how to best organize the army--all of this can be
found in war manuals from ancient China to modern
Europe. The counterattack, the flanking or enveloping maneuver, and the arts of deception are common to
the armies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and the Zulu
king Shaka. As a whole, these principles and
strategies indicate a kind of universal military
wisdom, a set of adaptable patterns that can increase
the chances for victory.
"Well, then, my boy, develop your strategy So
that prizes in games won't elude your grasp.
Strategy makes a better woodcutter than
strength. Strategy keeps a pilot's ship on course
When crosswinds blowit over the wine-blue sea.
And strategy wins races for charioteers. One
type of driver trusts his horses and car And
swerves mindlessly this way and that, All over
the course, without reining his horses. But a
man who knows how to win with lesser horses
Keeps his eye on the post and cuts the turn
close, And from the start keeps tension on the
reins With a firm hand as he watches the
leader."
THE ILIAD, HOMER, CIRCA NINTH CENTURY
B.C.
Perhaps the greatest strategist of them all was
Sun-tzu, author of the ancient Chinese classic The Art
of War. In his book, written probably the fourth century
B.C., can be found traces of almost all the strategic
patterns and principles later developed over the
course of centuries. But what connects them, in fact
what constitutes the art of war itself in Sun-tzu's eyes,
is the ideal of winning without bloodshed. By playing
on the psychological weaknesses of the opponent, by maneuvering him into precarious positions, by
inducing feelings of frustration and confusion, a
strategist can get the other side to break down mentally before surrendering physically. In this way
victory can be had at a much lower cost.And the state
that wins wars with few lives lost and resources
squandered is the state that can thrive over greater
periods of time. Certainly most wars are not waged
so rationally, but those campaigns in history that have
followed this principle (Scipio Africanus in Spain,
Napoleon at Ulm, T. E. Lawrence in the desert
campaigns of World War I) stand out above the rest
and serve as the ideal. War is not some separate realm divorced from the
rest of society. It is an eminently human arena, full of
the best and the worst of our nature. War also reflects
trends in society. The evolution toward more
unconventional, dirtier strategies--guerrilla warfare,
terrorism--mirrors a similar evolution in society, where
almost anything goes. The strategies that succeed in
war, whether conventional or unconventional, are
based on timeless psychology, and great military
failures have much to teach us about human stupidity
and the limits of force in any arena. The strategic
ideal in war--being supremely rational and emotionally
balanced, striving to win with minimum bloodshed and
loss of resources--has infinite application and
relevance to our daily battles.
Inculcated with the values of our times, many will
argue that organized war is inherently barbaric--a relic
of man's violent past and something to be overcome
for good. To promote the arts of warfare in a social
setting, they will say, is to stand in the way of progress
and to encourage conflict and dissension. Isn't there
enough of that in the world? This argument is very
seductive, but not at all reasonable. There will always
be those in society and in the world at large who are more aggressive than we are, who find ways to get
what they want, by hook or by crook. We must be
vigilant and must know how to defend ourselves
against such types. Civilized values are not furthered
if we are forced to surrender to those who are crafty
and strong. In fact, being pacifists in the face of such
wolves is the source of endless tragedy.
The self is the friend of a man who masters
himself through the self, but for a man without
self-mastery, the self is like an enemy at war.
THE BHAGAVAD GITA, INDIA, CIRCA A.D.
FIRST CENTURY
Mahatma Gandhi, who elevated nonviolence into a
great weapon for social change, had one simple goal
later on in his life: to rid India of the British overlords
who had crippled it for so many centuries. The British
were clever rulers. Gandhi understood that if
nonviolence were to work, it would have to be
extremely strategic, demanding much thought and
planning. He went so far as to call nonviolence a new
way of waging war. To promote any value, even
peace and pacifism, you must be willing to fight for it
and to aim at results--not simply the good, warm
feeling that expressing such ideas might bring you.
The moment you aim for results, you are in the realm
of strategy. War and strategy have an inexorable
logic: if you want or desire anything, you must be
ready and able to fight for it.
Others will argue that war and strategy are primarily matters that concern men, particularly those who are
aggressive or among the power elite. The study of
war and strategy, they will say, is a masculine, elitist,
and repressive pursuit, a way for power to perpetuate
itself. Such an argument is dangerous nonsense. In
the beginning, strategy indeed belonged to a select
few--a general, his staff, the king, a handful of
courtiers. Soldiers were not taught strategy, for that
would not have helped them on the battlefield.
Besides, it was unwise to arm one's soldiers with the
kind of practical knowledge that could help them to
organize a mutiny or rebellion. The era of colonialism
We live in a culture that promotes democratic values
of being fair to one and all, the importance of fitting
into a group, and knowing how to cooperate with
other people. We are taught early on in life that those
who are outwardly combative and aggressive pay a
social price: unpopularity and isolation. These values
of harmony and cooperation are perpetuated in subtle
and not-so-subtle ways--through books on how to be
successful in life; through the pleasant, peaceful
exteriors that those who have gotten ahead in the
world present to the public; through notions of
correctness that saturate the public space. The
problem for us is that we are trained and prepared for
peace, and we are not at all prepared for what
confronts us in the real world--war.
The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
JOB 7:1
Qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (let him
who wants peace prepare for war)
VEGETIUS, A.D. FOURTH CENTURY
This war exists on several levels. Most obviously,
we have our rivals on the other side. The world has
become increasingly competitive and nasty. In
politics, business, even the arts, we face opponents
who will do almost anything to gain an edge. More
troubling and complex, however, are the battles we
face with those who are supposedly on our side.
There are those who outwardly play the team game,
who act very friendly and agreeable, but who
sabotage us behind the scenes, use the group to
promote their own agenda. Others, more difficult to
spot, play subtle games of passive aggression,
offering help that never comes, instilling guilt as a
secret weapon. On the surface everything seems
peaceful enough, but just below it, it is every man and
woman for him-or herself, this dynamic infecting even
families and relationships. The culture may deny this
reality and promote a gentler picture, but we know it
and feel it, in our battle scars.
It is not that we and our colleagues are ignoble
creatures who fail to live up to ideals of peace and
selflessness, but that we cannot help the way we are. We have aggressive impulses that are impossible to
ignore or repress. In the past, individuals could expect
a group--the state, an extended family, a company--to
take care of them, but this is no longer the case, and
in this uncaring world we have to think first and
foremost of ourselves and our interests. What we
need are not impossible and inhuman ideals of peace
and cooperation to live up to, and the confusion that
brings us, but rather practical knowledge on how to
deal with conflict and the daily battles we face. And
this knowledge is not about how to be more forceful in
getting what we want or defending ourselves but
rather how to be more rational and strategic when it
comes to conflict, channeling our aggressive
impulses instead of denying or repressing them. If
there is an ideal to aim for, it should be that of the
strategic warrior, the man or woman who manages
difficult situations and people through deft and
intelligent maneuver.
[Strategy] is more than a science: it is the
application of knowledge to practical life, the
development of thought capable of modifying
the original guiding idea in the light of everchanging
situations; it is the art of acting under
the pressure of the most difficult conditions.
HELMUTH VON MOLTKE, 1800-1891
Many psychologists and sociologists have argued
that it is through conflict that problems are often
solved and real differences reconciled. Our
successes and failures in life can be traced to how
well or how badly we deal with the inevitable conflicts
that confront us in society. The common ways that
people deal with them--trying to avoid all conflict,
getting emotional and lashing out, turning sly and manipulative--are all counterproductive in the long run,
because they are not under conscious and rational
control and often make the situation worse. Strategic
warriors operate much differently. They think ahead
toward their long-term goals, decide which fights to
avoid and which are inevitable, know how to control
and channel their emotions. When forced to fight, they
do so with indirection and subtle maneuver, making
their manipulations hard to trace. In this way they can maintain the peaceful exterior so cherished in these
political times.
This ideal of fighting rationally comes to us from
organized warfare, where the art of strategy was
invented and refined. In the beginning, war was not at
all strategic. Battles between tribes were fought in a
brutal manner, a kind of ritual of violence in which
individuals could display their heroism. But as tribes
expanded and evolved into states, it became all too
apparent that war had too many hidden costs, that
waging it blindly often led to exhaustion and selfdestruction,
even for the victor. Somehow wars had to
be fought more rationally.
The word "strategy" comes from the ancient Greek
word strategos, meaning literally "the leader of the
army." Strategy in this sense was the art of
generalship, of commanding the entire war effort,
deciding what formations to deploy, what terrain to
fight on, what maneuvers to use to gain an edge. And
as this knowledge progressed, military leaders
discovered that the more they thought and planned
ahead, the more possibilities they had for success.
Novel strategies could allow them to defeat much
larger armies, as Alexander the Great did in his
victories over the Persians. In facing savvy opponents
who were also using strategy, there developed an
upward pressure: to gain an advantage, a general
had to be even more strategic, more indirect and
clever, than the other side. Over time the arts of
generalship became steadily more sophisticated, as more strategies were invented.
Although the word "strategy" itself is Greek in
origin, the concept appears in all cultures, in all
periods. Solid principles on how to deal with the
inevitable accidents of war, how to craft the ultimate
plan, how to best organize the army--all of this can be
found in war manuals from ancient China to modern
Europe. The counterattack, the flanking or enveloping maneuver, and the arts of deception are common to
the armies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and the Zulu
king Shaka. As a whole, these principles and
strategies indicate a kind of universal military
wisdom, a set of adaptable patterns that can increase
the chances for victory.
"Well, then, my boy, develop your strategy So
that prizes in games won't elude your grasp.
Strategy makes a better woodcutter than
strength. Strategy keeps a pilot's ship on course
When crosswinds blowit over the wine-blue sea.
And strategy wins races for charioteers. One
type of driver trusts his horses and car And
swerves mindlessly this way and that, All over
the course, without reining his horses. But a
man who knows how to win with lesser horses
Keeps his eye on the post and cuts the turn
close, And from the start keeps tension on the
reins With a firm hand as he watches the
leader."
THE ILIAD, HOMER, CIRCA NINTH CENTURY
B.C.
Perhaps the greatest strategist of them all was
Sun-tzu, author of the ancient Chinese classic The Art
of War. In his book, written probably the fourth century
B.C., can be found traces of almost all the strategic
patterns and principles later developed over the
course of centuries. But what connects them, in fact
what constitutes the art of war itself in Sun-tzu's eyes,
is the ideal of winning without bloodshed. By playing
on the psychological weaknesses of the opponent, by maneuvering him into precarious positions, by
inducing feelings of frustration and confusion, a
strategist can get the other side to break down mentally before surrendering physically. In this way
victory can be had at a much lower cost.And the state
that wins wars with few lives lost and resources
squandered is the state that can thrive over greater
periods of time. Certainly most wars are not waged
so rationally, but those campaigns in history that have
followed this principle (Scipio Africanus in Spain,
Napoleon at Ulm, T. E. Lawrence in the desert
campaigns of World War I) stand out above the rest
and serve as the ideal. War is not some separate realm divorced from the
rest of society. It is an eminently human arena, full of
the best and the worst of our nature. War also reflects
trends in society. The evolution toward more
unconventional, dirtier strategies--guerrilla warfare,
terrorism--mirrors a similar evolution in society, where
almost anything goes. The strategies that succeed in
war, whether conventional or unconventional, are
based on timeless psychology, and great military
failures have much to teach us about human stupidity
and the limits of force in any arena. The strategic
ideal in war--being supremely rational and emotionally
balanced, striving to win with minimum bloodshed and
loss of resources--has infinite application and
relevance to our daily battles.
Inculcated with the values of our times, many will
argue that organized war is inherently barbaric--a relic
of man's violent past and something to be overcome
for good. To promote the arts of warfare in a social
setting, they will say, is to stand in the way of progress
and to encourage conflict and dissension. Isn't there
enough of that in the world? This argument is very
seductive, but not at all reasonable. There will always
be those in society and in the world at large who are more aggressive than we are, who find ways to get
what they want, by hook or by crook. We must be
vigilant and must know how to defend ourselves
against such types. Civilized values are not furthered
if we are forced to surrender to those who are crafty
and strong. In fact, being pacifists in the face of such
wolves is the source of endless tragedy.
The self is the friend of a man who masters
himself through the self, but for a man without
self-mastery, the self is like an enemy at war.
THE BHAGAVAD GITA, INDIA, CIRCA A.D.
FIRST CENTURY
Mahatma Gandhi, who elevated nonviolence into a
great weapon for social change, had one simple goal
later on in his life: to rid India of the British overlords
who had crippled it for so many centuries. The British
were clever rulers. Gandhi understood that if
nonviolence were to work, it would have to be
extremely strategic, demanding much thought and
planning. He went so far as to call nonviolence a new
way of waging war. To promote any value, even
peace and pacifism, you must be willing to fight for it
and to aim at results--not simply the good, warm
feeling that expressing such ideas might bring you.
The moment you aim for results, you are in the realm
of strategy. War and strategy have an inexorable
logic: if you want or desire anything, you must be
ready and able to fight for it.
Others will argue that war and strategy are primarily matters that concern men, particularly those who are
aggressive or among the power elite. The study of
war and strategy, they will say, is a masculine, elitist,
and repressive pursuit, a way for power to perpetuate
itself. Such an argument is dangerous nonsense. In
the beginning, strategy indeed belonged to a select
few--a general, his staff, the king, a handful of
courtiers. Soldiers were not taught strategy, for that
would not have helped them on the battlefield.
Besides, it was unwise to arm one's soldiers with the
kind of practical knowledge that could help them to
organize a mutiny or rebellion. The era of colonialism
We live in a culture that promotes democratic values
of being fair to one and all, the importance of fitting
into a group, and knowing how to cooperate with
other people. We are taught early on in life that those
who are outwardly combative and aggressive pay a
social price: unpopularity and isolation. These values
of harmony and cooperation are perpetuated in subtle
and not-so-subtle ways--through books on how to be
successful in life; through the pleasant, peaceful
exteriors that those who have gotten ahead in the
world present to the public; through notions of
correctness that saturate the public space. The
problem for us is that we are trained and prepared for
peace, and we are not at all prepared for what
confronts us in the real world--war.
The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
JOB 7:1
Qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (let him
who wants peace prepare for war)
VEGETIUS, A.D. FOURTH CENTURY
This war exists on several levels. Most obviously,
we have our rivals on the other side. The world has
become increasingly competitive and nasty. In
politics, business, even the arts, we face opponents
who will do almost anything to gain an edge. More
troubling and complex, however, are the battles we
face with those who are supposedly on our side.
There are those who outwardly play the team game,
who act very friendly and agreeable, but who
sabotage us behind the scenes, use the group to
promote their own agenda. Others, more difficult to
spot, play subtle games of passive aggression,
offering help that never comes, instilling guilt as a
secret weapon. On the surface everything seems
peaceful enough, but just below it, it is every man and
woman for him-or herself, this dynamic infecting even
families and relationships. The culture may deny this
reality and promote a gentler picture, but we know it
and feel it, in our battle scars.
It is not that we and our colleagues are ignoble
creatures who fail to live up to ideals of peace and
selflessness, but that we cannot help the way we are. We have aggressive impulses that are impossible to
ignore or repress. In the past, individuals could expect
a group--the state, an extended family, a company--to
take care of them, but this is no longer the case, and
in this uncaring world we have to think first and
foremost of ourselves and our interests. What we
need are not impossible and inhuman ideals of peace
and cooperation to live up to, and the confusion that
brings us, but rather practical knowledge on how to
deal with conflict and the daily battles we face. And
this knowledge is not about how to be more forceful in
getting what we want or defending ourselves but
rather how to be more rational and strategic when it
comes to conflict, channeling our aggressive
impulses instead of denying or repressing them. If
there is an ideal to aim for, it should be that of the
strategic warrior, the man or woman who manages
difficult situations and people through deft and
intelligent maneuver.
[Strategy] is more than a science: it is the
application of knowledge to practical life, the
development of thought capable of modifying
the original guiding idea in the light of everchanging
situations; it is the art of acting under
the pressure of the most difficult conditions.
HELMUTH VON MOLTKE, 1800-1891
Many psychologists and sociologists have argued
that it is through conflict that problems are often
solved and real differences reconciled. Our
successes and failures in life can be traced to how
well or how badly we deal with the inevitable conflicts
that confront us in society. The common ways that
people deal with them--trying to avoid all conflict,
getting emotional and lashing out, turning sly and manipulative--are all counterproductive in the long run,
because they are not under conscious and rational
control and often make the situation worse. Strategic
warriors operate much differently. They think ahead
toward their long-term goals, decide which fights to
avoid and which are inevitable, know how to control
and channel their emotions. When forced to fight, they
do so with indirection and subtle maneuver, making
their manipulations hard to trace. In this way they can maintain the peaceful exterior so cherished in these
political times.
This ideal of fighting rationally comes to us from
organized warfare, where the art of strategy was
invented and refined. In the beginning, war was not at
all strategic. Battles between tribes were fought in a
brutal manner, a kind of ritual of violence in which
individuals could display their heroism. But as tribes
expanded and evolved into states, it became all too
apparent that war had too many hidden costs, that
waging it blindly often led to exhaustion and selfdestruction,
even for the victor. Somehow wars had to
be fought more rationally.
The word "strategy" comes from the ancient Greek
word strategos, meaning literally "the leader of the
army." Strategy in this sense was the art of
generalship, of commanding the entire war effort,
deciding what formations to deploy, what terrain to
fight on, what maneuvers to use to gain an edge. And
as this knowledge progressed, military leaders
discovered that the more they thought and planned
ahead, the more possibilities they had for success.
Novel strategies could allow them to defeat much
larger armies, as Alexander the Great did in his
victories over the Persians. In facing savvy opponents
who were also using strategy, there developed an
upward pressure: to gain an advantage, a general
had to be even more strategic, more indirect and
clever, than the other side. Over time the arts of
generalship became steadily more sophisticated, as more strategies were invented.
Although the word "strategy" itself is Greek in
origin, the concept appears in all cultures, in all
periods. Solid principles on how to deal with the
inevitable accidents of war, how to craft the ultimate
plan, how to best organize the army--all of this can be
found in war manuals from ancient China to modern
Europe. The counterattack, the flanking or enveloping maneuver, and the arts of deception are common to
the armies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and the Zulu
king Shaka. As a whole, these principles and
strategies indicate a kind of universal military
wisdom, a set of adaptable patterns that can increase
the chances for victory.
"Well, then, my boy, develop your strategy So
that prizes in games won't elude your grasp.
Strategy makes a better woodcutter than
strength. Strategy keeps a pilot's ship on course
When crosswinds blowit over the wine-blue sea.
And strategy wins races for charioteers. One
type of driver trusts his horses and car And
swerves mindlessly this way and that, All over
the course, without reining his horses. But a
man who knows how to win with lesser horses
Keeps his eye on the post and cuts the turn
close, And from the start keeps tension on the
reins With a firm hand as he watches the
leader."
THE ILIAD, HOMER, CIRCA NINTH CENTURY
B.C.
Perhaps the greatest strategist of them all was
Sun-tzu, author of the ancient Chinese classic The Art
of War. In his book, written probably the fourth century
B.C., can be found traces of almost all the strategic
patterns and principles later developed over the
course of centuries. But what connects them, in fact
what constitutes the art of war itself in Sun-tzu's eyes,
is the ideal of winning without bloodshed. By playing
on the psychological weaknesses of the opponent, by maneuvering him into precarious positions, by
inducing feelings of frustration and confusion, a
strategist can get the other side to break down mentally before surrendering physically. In this way
victory can be had at a much lower cost.And the state
that wins wars with few lives lost and resources
squandered is the state that can thrive over greater
periods of time. Certainly most wars are not waged
so rationally, but those campaigns in history that have
followed this principle (Scipio Africanus in Spain,
Napoleon at Ulm, T. E. Lawrence in the desert
campaigns of World War I) stand out above the rest
and serve as the ideal. War is not some separate realm divorced from the
rest of society. It is an eminently human arena, full of
the best and the worst of our nature. War also reflects
trends in society. The evolution toward more
unconventional, dirtier strategies--guerrilla warfare,
terrorism--mirrors a similar evolution in society, where
almost anything goes. The strategies that succeed in
war, whether conventional or unconventional, are
based on timeless psychology, and great military
failures have much to teach us about human stupidity
and the limits of force in any arena. The strategic
ideal in war--being supremely rational and emotionally
balanced, striving to win with minimum bloodshed and
loss of resources--has infinite application and
relevance to our daily battles.
Inculcated with the values of our times, many will
argue that organized war is inherently barbaric--a relic
of man's violent past and something to be overcome
for good. To promote the arts of warfare in a social
setting, they will say, is to stand in the way of progress
and to encourage conflict and dissension. Isn't there
enough of that in the world? This argument is very
seductive, but not at all reasonable. There will always
be those in society and in the world at large who are more aggressive than we are, who find ways to get
what they want, by hook or by crook. We must be
vigilant and must know how to defend ourselves
against such types. Civilized values are not furthered
if we are forced to surrender to those who are crafty
and strong. In fact, being pacifists in the face of such
wolves is the source of endless tragedy.
The self is the friend of a man who masters
himself through the self, but for a man without
self-mastery, the self is like an enemy at war.
THE BHAGAVAD GITA, INDIA, CIRCA A.D.
FIRST CENTURY
Mahatma Gandhi, who elevated nonviolence into a
great weapon for social change, had one simple goal
later on in his life: to rid India of the British overlords
who had crippled it for so many centuries. The British
were clever rulers. Gandhi understood that if
nonviolence were to work, it would have to be
extremely strategic, demanding much thought and
planning. He went so far as to call nonviolence a new
way of waging war. To promote any value, even
peace and pacifism, you must be willing to fight for it
and to aim at results--not simply the good, warm
feeling that expressing such ideas might bring you.
The moment you aim for results, you are in the realm
of strategy. War and strategy have an inexorable
logic: if you want or desire anything, you must be
ready and able to fight for it.
Others will argue that war and strategy are primarily matters that concern men, particularly those who are
aggressive or among the power elite. The study of
war and strategy, they will say, is a masculine, elitist,
and repressive pursuit, a way for power to perpetuate
itself. Such an argument is dangerous nonsense. In
the beginning, strategy indeed belonged to a select
few--a general, his staff, the king, a handful of
courtiers. Soldiers were not taught strategy, for that
would not have helped them on the battlefield.
Besides, it was unwise to arm one's soldiers with the
kind of practical knowledge that could help them to
organize a mutiny or rebellion. The era of colonialism
We live in a culture that promotes democratic values
of being fair to one and all, the importance of fitting
into a group, and knowing how to cooperate with
other people. We are taught early on in life that those
who are outwardly combative and aggressive pay a
social price: unpopularity and isolation. These values
of harmony and cooperation are perpetuated in subtle
and not-so-subtle ways--through books on how to be
successful in life; through the pleasant, peaceful
exteriors that those who have gotten ahead in the
world present to the public; through notions of
correctness that saturate the public space. The
problem for us is that we are trained and prepared for
peace, and we are not at all prepared for what
confronts us in the real world--war.
The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
JOB 7:1
Qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (let him
who wants peace prepare for war)
VEGETIUS, A.D. FOURTH CENTURY
This war exists on several levels. Most obviously,
we have our rivals on the other side. The world has
become increasingly competitive and nasty. In
politics, business, even the arts, we face opponents
who will do almost anything to gain an edge. More
troubling and complex, however, are the battles we
face with those who are supposedly on our side.
There are those who outwardly play the team game,
who act very friendly and agreeable, but who
sabotage us behind the scenes, use the group to
promote their own agenda. Others, more difficult to
spot, play subtle games of passive aggression,
offering help that never comes, instilling guilt as a
secret weapon. On the surface everything seems
peaceful enough, but just below it, it is every man and
woman for him-or herself, this dynamic infecting even
families and relationships. The culture may deny this
reality and promote a gentler picture, but we know it
and feel it, in our battle scars.
It is not that we and our colleagues are ignoble
creatures who fail to live up to ideals of peace and
selflessness, but that we cannot help the way we are. We have aggressive impulses that are impossible to
ignore or repress. In the past, individuals could expect
a group--the state, an extended family, a company--to
take care of them, but this is no longer the case, and
in this uncaring world we have to think first and
foremost of ourselves and our interests. What we
need are not impossible and inhuman ideals of peace
and cooperation to live up to, and the confusion that
brings us, but rather practical knowledge on how to
deal with conflict and the daily battles we face. And
this knowledge is not about how to be more forceful in
getting what we want or defending ourselves but
rather how to be more rational and strategic when it
comes to conflict, channeling our aggressive
impulses instead of denying or repressing them. If
there is an ideal to aim for, it should be that of the
strategic warrior, the man or woman who manages
difficult situations and people through deft and
intelligent maneuver.
[Strategy] is more than a science: it is the
application of knowledge to practical life, the
development of thought capable of modifying
the original guiding idea in the light of everchanging
situations; it is the art of acting under
the pressure of the most difficult conditions.
HELMUTH VON MOLTKE, 1800-1891
Many psychologists and sociologists have argued
that it is through conflict that problems are often
solved and real differences reconciled. Our
successes and failures in life can be traced to how
well or how badly we deal with the inevitable conflicts
that confront us in society. The common ways that
people deal with them--trying to avoid all conflict,
getting emotional and lashing out, turning sly and manipulative--are all counterproductive in the long run,
because they are not under conscious and rational
control and often make the situation worse. Strategic
warriors operate much differently. They think ahead
toward their long-term goals, decide which fights to
avoid and which are inevitable, know how to control
and channel their emotions. When forced to fight, they
do so with indirection and subtle maneuver, making
their manipulations hard to trace. In this way they can maintain the peaceful exterior so cherished in these
political times.
This ideal of fighting rationally comes to us from
organized warfare, where the art of strategy was
invented and refined. In the beginning, war was not at
all strategic. Battles between tribes were fought in a
brutal manner, a kind of ritual of violence in which
individuals could display their heroism. But as tribes
expanded and evolved into states, it became all too
apparent that war had too many hidden costs, that
waging it blindly often led to exhaustion and selfdestruction,
even for the victor. Somehow wars had to
be fought more rationally.
The word "strategy" comes from the ancient Greek
word strategos, meaning literally "the leader of the
army." Strategy in this sense was the art of
generalship, of commanding the entire war effort,
deciding what formations to deploy, what terrain to
fight on, what maneuvers to use to gain an edge. And
as this knowledge progressed, military leaders
discovered that the more they thought and planned
ahead, the more possibilities they had for success.
Novel strategies could allow them to defeat much
larger armies, as Alexander the Great did in his
victories over the Persians. In facing savvy opponents
who were also using strategy, there developed an
upward pressure: to gain an advantage, a general
had to be even more strategic, more indirect and
clever, than the other side. Over time the arts of
generalship became steadily more sophisticated, as more strategies were invented.
Although the word "strategy" itself is Greek in
origin, the concept appears in all cultures, in all
periods. Solid principles on how to deal with the
inevitable accidents of war, how to craft the ultimate
plan, how to best organize the army--all of this can be
found in war manuals from ancient China to modern
Europe. The counterattack, the flanking or enveloping maneuver, and the arts of deception are common to
the armies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and the Zulu
king Shaka. As a whole, these principles and
strategies indicate a kind of universal military
wisdom, a set of adaptable patterns that can increase
the chances for victory.
"Well, then, my boy, develop your strategy So
that prizes in games won't elude your grasp.
Strategy makes a better woodcutter than
strength. Strategy keeps a pilot's ship on course
When crosswinds blowit over the wine-blue sea.
And strategy wins races for charioteers. One
type of driver trusts his horses and car And
swerves mindlessly this way and that, All over
the course, without reining his horses. But a
man who knows how to win with lesser horses
Keeps his eye on the post and cuts the turn
close, And from the start keeps tension on the
reins With a firm hand as he watches the
leader."
THE ILIAD, HOMER, CIRCA NINTH CENTURY
B.C.
Perhaps the greatest strategist of them all was
Sun-tzu, author of the ancient Chinese classic The Art
of War. In his book, written probably the fourth century
B.C., can be found traces of almost all the strategic
patterns and principles later developed over the
course of centuries. But what connects them, in fact
what constitutes the art of war itself in Sun-tzu's eyes,
is the ideal of winning without bloodshed. By playing
on the psychological weaknesses of the opponent, by maneuvering him into precarious positions, by
inducing feelings of frustration and confusion, a
strategist can get the other side to break down mentally before surrendering physically. In this way
victory can be had at a much lower cost.And the state
that wins wars with few lives lost and resources
squandered is the state that can thrive over greater
periods of time. Certainly most wars are not waged
so rationally, but those campaigns in history that have
followed this principle (Scipio Africanus in Spain,
Napoleon at Ulm, T. E. Lawrence in the desert
campaigns of World War I) stand out above the rest
and serve as the ideal. War is not some separate realm divorced from the
rest of society. It is an eminently human arena, full of
the best and the worst of our nature. War also reflects
trends in society. The evolution toward more
unconventional, dirtier strategies--guerrilla warfare,
terrorism--mirrors a similar evolution in society, where
almost anything goes. The strategies that succeed in
war, whether conventional or unconventional, are
based on timeless psychology, and great military
failures have much to teach us about human stupidity
and the limits of force in any arena. The strategic
ideal in war--being supremely rational and emotionally
balanced, striving to win with minimum bloodshed and
loss of resources--has infinite application and
relevance to our daily battles.
Inculcated with the values of our times, many will
argue that organized war is inherently barbaric--a relic
of man's violent past and something to be overcome
for good. To promote the arts of warfare in a social
setting, they will say, is to stand in the way of progress
and to encourage conflict and dissension. Isn't there
enough of that in the world? This argument is very
seductive, but not at all reasonable. There will always
be those in society and in the world at large who are more aggressive than we are, who find ways to get
what they want, by hook or by crook. We must be
vigilant and must know how to defend ourselves
against such types. Civilized values are not furthered
if we are forced to surrender to those who are crafty
and strong. In fact, being pacifists in the face of such
wolves is the source of endless tragedy.
The self is the friend of a man who masters
himself through the self, but for a man without
self-mastery, the self is like an enemy at war.
THE BHAGAVAD GITA, INDIA, CIRCA A.D.
FIRST CENTURY
Mahatma Gandhi, who elevated nonviolence into a
great weapon for social change, had one simple goal
later on in his life: to rid India of the British overlords
who had crippled it for so many centuries. The British
were clever rulers. Gandhi understood that if
nonviolence were to work, it would have to be
extremely strategic, demanding much thought and
planning. He went so far as to call nonviolence a new
way of waging war. To promote any value, even
peace and pacifism, you must be willing to fight for it
and to aim at results--not simply the good, warm
feeling that expressing such ideas might bring you.
The moment you aim for results, you are in the realm
of strategy. War and strategy have an inexorable
logic: if you want or desire anything, you must be
ready and able to fight for it.
Others will argue that war and strategy are primarily matters that concern men, particularly those who are
aggressive or among the power elite. The study of
war and strategy, they will say, is a masculine, elitist,
and repressive pursuit, a way for power to perpetuate
itself. Such an argument is dangerous nonsense. In
the beginning, strategy indeed belonged to a select
few--a general, his staff, the king, a handful of
courtiers. Soldiers were not taught strategy, for that
would not have helped them on the battlefield.
Besides, it was unwise to arm one's soldiers with the
kind of practical knowledge that could help them to
organize a mutiny or rebellion. The era of colonialism
We live in a culture that promotes democratic values
of being fair to one and all, the importance of fitting
into a group, and knowing how to cooperate with
other people. We are taught early on in life that those
who are outwardly combative and aggressive pay a
social price: unpopularity and isolation. These values
of harmony and cooperation are perpetuated in subtle
and not-so-subtle ways--through books on how to be
successful in life; through the pleasant, peaceful
exteriors that those who have gotten ahead in the
world present to the public; through notions of
correctness that saturate the public space. The
problem for us is that we are trained and prepared for
peace, and we are not at all prepared for what
confronts us in the real world--war.
The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
JOB 7:1
Qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (let him
who wants peace prepare for war)
VEGETIUS, A.D. FOURTH CENTURY
This war exists on several levels. Most obviously,
we have our rivals on the other side. The world has
become increasingly competitive and nasty. In
politics, business, even the arts, we face opponents
who will do almost anything to gain an edge. More
troubling and complex, however, are the battles we
face with those who are supposedly on our side.
There are those who outwardly play the team game,
who act very friendly and agreeable, but who
sabotage us behind the scenes, use the group to
promote their own agenda. Others, more difficult to
spot, play subtle games of passive aggression,
offering help that never comes, instilling guilt as a
secret weapon. On the surface everything seems
peaceful enough, but just below it, it is every man and
woman for him-or herself, this dynamic infecting even
families and relationships. The culture may deny this
reality and promote a gentler picture, but we know it
and feel it, in our battle scars.
It is not that we and our colleagues are ignoble
creatures who fail to live up to ideals of peace and
selflessness, but that we cannot help the way we are. We have aggressive impulses that are impossible to
ignore or repress. In the past, individuals could expect
a group--the state, an extended family, a company--to
take care of them, but this is no longer the case, and
in this uncaring world we have to think first and
foremost of ourselves and our interests. What we
need are not impossible and inhuman ideals of peace
and cooperation to live up to, and the confusion that
brings us, but rather practical knowledge on how to
deal with conflict and the daily battles we face. And
this knowledge is not about how to be more forceful in
getting what we want or defending ourselves but
rather how to be more rational and strategic when it
comes to conflict, channeling our aggressive
impulses instead of denying or repressing them. If
there is an ideal to aim for, it should be that of the
strategic warrior, the man or woman who manages
difficult situations and people through deft and
intelligent maneuver.
[Strategy] is more than a science: it is the
application of knowledge to practical life, the
development of thought capable of modifying
the original guiding idea in the light of everchanging
situations; it is the art of acting under
the pressure of the most difficult conditions.
HELMUTH VON MOLTKE, 1800-1891
Many psychologists and sociologists have argued
that it is through conflict that problems are often
solved and real differences reconciled. Our
successes and failures in life can be traced to how
well or how badly we deal with the inevitable conflicts
that confront us in society. The common ways that
people deal with them--trying to avoid all conflict,
getting emotional and lashing out, turning sly and manipulative--are all counterproductive in the long run,
because they are not under conscious and rational
control and often make the situation worse. Strategic
warriors operate much differently. They think ahead
toward their long-term goals, decide which fights to
avoid and which are inevitable, know how to control
and channel their emotions. When forced to fight, they
do so with indirection and subtle maneuver, making
their manipulations hard to trace. In this way they can maintain the peaceful exterior so cherished in these
political times.
This ideal of fighting rationally comes to us from
organized warfare, where the art of strategy was
invented and refined. In the beginning, war was not at
all strategic. Battles between tribes were fought in a
brutal manner, a kind of ritual of violence in which
individuals could display their heroism. But as tribes
expanded and evolved into states, it became all too
apparent that war had too many hidden costs, that
waging it blindly often led to exhaustion and selfdestruction,
even for the victor. Somehow wars had to
be fought more rationally.
The word "strategy" comes from the ancient Greek
word strategos, meaning literally "the leader of the
army." Strategy in this sense was the art of
generalship, of commanding the entire war effort,
deciding what formations to deploy, what terrain to
fight on, what maneuvers to use to gain an edge. And
as this knowledge progressed, military leaders
discovered that the more they thought and planned
ahead, the more possibilities they had for success.
Novel strategies could allow them to defeat much
larger armies, as Alexander the Great did in his
victories over the Persians. In facing savvy opponents
who were also using strategy, there developed an
upward pressure: to gain an advantage, a general
had to be even more strategic, more indirect and
clever, than the other side. Over time the arts of
generalship became steadily more sophisticated, as more strategies were invented.
Although the word "strategy" itself is Greek in
origin, the concept appears in all cultures, in all
periods. Solid principles on how to deal with the
inevitable accidents of war, how to craft the ultimate
plan, how to best organize the army--all of this can be
found in war manuals from ancient China to modern
Europe. The counterattack, the flanking or enveloping maneuver, and the arts of deception are common to
the armies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and the Zulu
king Shaka. As a whole, these principles and
strategies indicate a kind of universal military
wisdom, a set of adaptable patterns that can increase
the chances for victory.
"Well, then, my boy, develop your strategy So
that prizes in games won't elude your grasp.
Strategy makes a better woodcutter than
strength. Strategy keeps a pilot's ship on course
When crosswinds blowit over the wine-blue sea.
And strategy wins races for charioteers. One
type of driver trusts his horses and car And
swerves mindlessly this way and that, All over
the course, without reining his horses. But a
man who knows how to win with lesser horses
Keeps his eye on the post and cuts the turn
close, And from the start keeps tension on the
reins With a firm hand as he watches the
leader."
THE ILIAD, HOMER, CIRCA NINTH CENTURY
B.C.
Perhaps the greatest strategist of them all was
Sun-tzu, author of the ancient Chinese classic The Art
of War. In his book, written probably the fourth century
B.C., can be found traces of almost all the strategic
patterns and principles later developed over the
course of centuries. But what connects them, in fact
what constitutes the art of war itself in Sun-tzu's eyes,
is the ideal of winning without bloodshed. By playing
on the psychological weaknesses of the opponent, by maneuvering him into precarious positions, by
inducing feelings of frustration and confusion, a
strategist can get the other side to break down mentally before surrendering physically. In this way
victory can be had at a much lower cost.And the state
that wins wars with few lives lost and resources
squandered is the state that can thrive over greater
periods of time. Certainly most wars are not waged
so rationally, but those campaigns in history that have
followed this principle (Scipio Africanus in Spain,
Napoleon at Ulm, T. E. Lawrence in the desert
campaigns of World War I) stand out above the rest
and serve as the ideal. War is not some separate realm divorced from the
rest of society. It is an eminently human arena, full of
the best and the worst of our nature. War also reflects
trends in society. The evolution toward more
unconventional, dirtier strategies--guerrilla warfare,
terrorism--mirrors a similar evolution in society, where
almost anything goes. The strategies that succeed in
war, whether conventional or unconventional, are
based on timeless psychology, and great military
failures have much to teach us about human stupidity
and the limits of force in any arena. The strategic
ideal in war--being supremely rational and emotionally
balanced, striving to win with minimum bloodshed and
loss of resources--has infinite application and
relevance to our daily battles.
Inculcated with the values of our times, many will
argue that organized war is inherently barbaric--a relic
of man's violent past and something to be overcome
for good. To promote the arts of warfare in a social
setting, they will say, is to stand in the way of progress
and to encourage conflict and dissension. Isn't there
enough of that in the world? This argument is very
seductive, but not at all reasonable. There will always
be those in society and in the world at large who are more aggressive than we are, who find ways to get
what they want, by hook or by crook. We must be
vigilant and must know how to defend ourselves
against such types. Civilized values are not furthered
if we are forced to surrender to those who are crafty
and strong. In fact, being pacifists in the face of such
wolves is the source of endless tragedy.
The self is the friend of a man who masters
himself through the self, but for a man without
self-mastery, the self is like an enemy at war.
THE BHAGAVAD GITA, INDIA, CIRCA A.D.
FIRST CENTURY
Mahatma Gandhi, who elevated nonviolence into a
great weapon for social change, had one simple goal
later on in his life: to rid India of the British overlords
who had crippled it for so many centuries. The British
were clever rulers. Gandhi understood that if
nonviolence were to work, it would have to be
extremely strategic, demanding much thought and
planning. He went so far as to call nonviolence a new
way of waging war. To promote any value, even
peace and pacifism, you must be willing to fight for it
and to aim at results--not simply the good, warm
feeling that expressing such ideas might bring you.
The moment you aim for results, you are in the realm
of strategy. War and strategy have an inexorable
logic: if you want or desire anything, you must be
ready and able to fight for it.
Others will argue that war and strategy are primarily matters that concern men, particularly those who are
aggressive or among the power elite. The study of
war and strategy, they will say, is a masculine, elitist,
and repressive pursuit, a way for power to perpetuate
itself. Such an argument is dangerous nonsense. In
the beginning, strategy indeed belonged to a select
few--a general, his staff, the king, a handful of
courtiers. Soldiers were not taught strategy, for that
would not have helped them on the battlefield.
Besides, it was unwise to arm one's soldiers with the
kind of practical knowledge that could help them to
organize a mutiny or rebellion. The era of colonialism
We live in a culture that promotes democratic values
of being fair to one and all, the importance of fitting
into a group, and knowing how to cooperate with
other people. We are taught early on in life that those
who are outwardly combative and aggressive pay a
social price: unpopularity and isolation. These values
of harmony and cooperation are perpetuated in subtle
and not-so-subtle ways--through books on how to be
successful in life; through the pleasant, peaceful
exteriors that those who have gotten ahead in the
world present to the public; through notions of
correctness that saturate the public space. The
problem for us is that we are trained and prepared for
peace, and we are not at all prepared for what
confronts us in the real world--war.
The life of man upon earth is a warfare.
JOB 7:1
Qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum (let him
who wants peace prepare for war)
VEGETIUS, A.D. FOURTH CENTURY
This war exists on several levels. Most obviously,
we have our rivals on the other side. The world has
become increasingly competitive and nasty. In
politics, business, even the arts, we face opponents
who will do almost anything to gain an edge. More
troubling and complex, however, are the battles we
face with those who are supposedly on our side.
There are those who outwardly play the team game,
who act very friendly and agreeable, but who
sabotage us behind the scenes, use the group to
promote their own agenda. Others, more difficult to
spot, play subtle games of passive aggression,
offering help that never comes, instilling guilt as a
secret weapon. On the surface everything seems
peaceful enough, but just below it, it is every man and
woman for him-or herself, this dynamic infecting even
families and relationships. The culture may deny this
reality and promote a gentler picture, but we know it
and feel it, in our battle scars.
It is not that we and our colleagues are ignoble
creatures who fail to live up to ideals of peace and
selflessness, but that we cannot help the way we are. We have aggressive impulses that are impossible to
ignore or repress. In the past, individuals could expect
a group--the state, an extended family, a company--to
take care of them, but this is no longer the case, and
in this uncaring world we have to think first and
foremost of ourselves and our interests. What we
need are not impossible and inhuman ideals of peace
and cooperation to live up to, and the confusion that
brings us, but rather practical knowledge on how to
deal with conflict and the daily battles we face. And
this knowledge is not about how to be more forceful in
getting what we want or defending ourselves but
rather how to be more rational and strategic when it
comes to conflict, channeling our aggressive
impulses instead of denying or repressing them. If
there is an ideal to aim for, it should be that of the
strategic warrior, the man or woman who manages
difficult situations and people through deft and
intelligent maneuver.
[Strategy] is more than a science: it is the
application of knowledge to practical life, the
development of thought capable of modifying
the original guiding idea in the light of everchanging
situations; it is the art of acting under
the pressure of the most difficult conditions.
HELMUTH VON MOLTKE, 1800-1891
Many psychologists and sociologists have argued
that it is through conflict that problems are often
solved and real differences reconciled. Our
successes and failures in life can be traced to how
well or how badly we deal with the inevitable conflicts
that confront us in society. The common ways that
people deal with them--trying to avoid all conflict,
getting emotional and lashing out, turning sly and manipulative--are all counterproductive in the long run,
because they are not under conscious and rational
control and often make the situation worse. Strategic
warriors operate much differently. They think ahead
toward their long-term goals, decide which fights to
avoid and which are inevitable, know how to control
and channel their emotions. When forced to fight, they
do so with indirection and subtle maneuver, making
their manipulations hard to trace. In this way they can maintain the peaceful exterior so cherished in these
political times.
This ideal of fighting rationally comes to us from
mad
organized warfare, where the art of strategy was
invented and refined. In the beginning, war was not at
all strategic. Battles between tribes were fought in a
brutal manner, a kind of ritual of violence in which
individuals could display their heroism. But as tribes
expanded and evolved into states, it became all too
apparent that war had too many hidden costs, that
waging it blindly often led to exhaustion and selfdestruction,
even for the victor. Somehow wars had to
be fought more rationally.
The word "strategy" comes from the ancient Greek
word strategos, meaning literally "the leader of the
army." Strategy in this sense was the art of
generalship, of commanding the entire war effort,
deciding what formations to deploy, what terrain to
fight on, what maneuvers to use to gain an edge. And
as this knowledge progressed, military leaders
discovered that the more they thought and planned
ahead, the more possibilities they had for success.
Novel strategies could allow them to defeat much
larger armies, as Alexander the Great did in his
victories over the Persians. In facing savvy opponents
who were also using strategy, there developed an
upward pressure: to gain an advantage, a general
had to be even more strategic, more indirect and
clever, than the other side. Over time the arts of
generalship became steadily more sophisticated, as more strategies were invented.
Although the word "strategy" itself is Greek in
origin, the concept appears in all cultures, in all
periods. Solid principles on how to deal with the
inevitable accidents of war, how to craft the ultimate
plan, how to best organize the army--all of this can be
found in war manuals from ancient China to modern
Europe. The counterattack, the flanking or enveloping maneuver, and the arts of deception are common to
the armies of Genghis Khan, Napoleon, and the Zulu
king Shaka. As a whole, these principles and
strategies indicate a kind of universal military
wisdom, a set of adaptable patterns that can increase
the chances for victory.
"Well, then, my boy, develop your strategy So
that prizes in games won't elude your grasp.
Strategy makes a better woodcutter than
strength. Strategy keeps a pilot's ship on course
When crosswinds blowit over the wine-blue sea.
And strategy wins races for charioteers. One
type of driver trusts his horses and car And
swerves mindlessly this way and that, All over
nad
the course, without reining his horses. But a
man who knows how to win with lesser horses
Keeps his eye on the post and cuts the turn
close, And from the start keeps tension on the
reins With a firm hand as he watches the
leader."
THE ILIAD, HOMER, CIRCA NINTH CENTURY
B.C.
Perhaps the greatest strategist of them all was
Sun-tzu, author of the ancient Chinese classic The Art
of War. In his book, written probably the fourth century
B.C., can be found traces of almost all the strategic
sad
patterns and principles later developed over the
course of centuries. But what connects them, in fact
what constitutes the art of war itself in Sun-tzu's eyes,
is th
Ignoring it will lead to a life of endless confusion and
defeat.
