In newly declassified documents, it has been revealed that in desperation to salvage their Noble Cause in the Middle East, neoconservative researchers have borrowed inspiration from Gulliver's Travels. Through some esoteric method, they have sought the advice of every major warrior throughout history.
The first response to come in is from none other than the great warrior philosopher, Sun-Tzu.
What did he think about Bush's unfortunate circumstances? Could victory still be achieved?
Find out just over that fold...
Greetings,
I must say, things don't look good for you. Your situation reminds me of a brash young general I once knew, named Chaing-Jun Ming. His father was a great Lord, and sent Chaing-Jun to mind the family affairs in a distant foreign capital during the Great War. After the War ended, the Lord recalled Chaing-Jun and began grooming him for aristocracy.
Unfortunately, Chaing-Jun could not manage to stay away from the Shaoxing wine. He would drunkenly terrorize the peasants regularly, and was roundly despised by at least half of the nobles. A smaller group clung at his heels like stray puppies, enraptured by his swaggering bullying.
One particular evening, as Chaing-Jun was carousing, he lost his way in the dark. Finally coming upon a small hut, he burst through the door, slugging on a leather skin full of rice wine. Seated in the one room hut was Rubei Cho, the young wife of a peasant blacksmith. Rubei was known for her beauty and virtue, and Chaing-Jun became instantly desirous.
When she did not respond to his drunken advances, he took by force what he could not obtain by will.
When Rubei's husband came home to find his wife's battered form, he was enraged. After the Great War, the blacksmith had returned from the battlefields to find his meager land taken in the war levies, and thus was already filled with hatred for the nobility. This drove him over the edge.
Desiring revenge, the blacksmith recruited several of his comrades from the War. They hid in the forest near Chaing-Jun's palace, and waited until the next nightfall - the new moon. Sneaking into Chaing-Jun's palace, they restrained him with rope, then brutally murdered his children, his servants, and the children of his servants. After seting fire to the palace, they left him in the barn tied up, alive, and humiliated.
Once the smoke cleared, it was Chaing-Jun's turn to desire bloody vengance. He immediately assembled his father's battalions, planning to raze the blacksmith's small village to the ground. An old general, long loyal to Chaing-Jun's father, cautioned the young noble against rash action with forces that were not yet recovered from the Great War.
Chaing-Jun responded by immediately forcing the General into exile.
On a crisp autumn morning, just before sunrise, Chaing-Jun directed his forces to attack. As the battalions entered the village, they encountered no resistance. Only five men standing in the middle under a wooden water tower. The battalions surrounded the men and waited as Chaing-Jun caught up from the rear.
He approached them, weapon drawn, eager to gain his first kills. When he was within a few paces, the five men rushed against one of the tower supports at once. The supports, - which had been partially cut in preparation - immediately gave way, dumping the water tower's contents.
Except, instead of water, the battalions found themselves standing in a massive pool of some unknown black substance, goopy and murky. It is rumored that the substance was provided to the peasants by a rival merchant lord who wished to foster unrest within Chaing-Jun's family domain.
In the black deluge, a great number of Chaing-Jun's men were knocked from their feet, which had the side effect of covering them with the black gunk. Just as they regained their footing, the five peasants drew their weapons and began attacking wildly at anyone within range.
Chaing-Jun's throat was sliced open immediately.
At the same time, fire arrows began raining down from the surrounding hills. The black liquid instantly caught fire, turning the entire village into a raging inferno. Chaing-Jun's forces were destroyed to a man.
It had obviously been a trap.
Within weeks, the rival lord that had secretly helped the insurgent villagers was marching his army into Chaing-Jun's now unprotected family domain.
You may interpret that as you like, but allow me to talk about this 'victory' I understand you are seeking. As I have written, there are five elements from which victory can be known.
One who knows when he can fight, and when he cannot fight, will be victorious.
I have learned what I could about the military history of your nation, and it has caught my attention that your military is not designed for occupation. The conflict against the enemy of Hanoi should have taught you better about the ineffectiveness of your tactics for long term occupation. Your military does not appear to intended to be an occupying force, and the bulk of your people do not appear to have much taste for empire.
One who recognizes how to employ large and small numbers wil be victorious.
You cannot occupy Iraq in the sense that would be required to 'stabilize' things there. It would require upwards of a million troops, and you would have to rule with such a heavy hand as to make Mongolians seem merciful.
One whose upper and lower ranks have the same desires will be victorious.
After your towers fell, scores of young - and not-so-young - men and women joined your armies with a mind to go after the attackers. You took that force and invaded a nation that was
an enemy of your attackers, and
allowed the actual attackers to escape.
One who, fully prepared, awaits the unprepared will be victorious.
To be blunt, there is not much that could address this subject. From what I have learned, it is obvious that
preparation is a concept that escapes you.
One whose general is capable and not interfered with by the ruler will be victorious.
Apparently, you were under the mistaken impression that means for you to
allow an advisor to dictate military strategy over a general's objection.
To answer the question of what I would do in your sandals is impossible. I am Sun-Tzu. I would not have worn your sandals. My advice, since you inquired, is allow your wisest, most experienced generals to plan a strategic, orderly fighting retreat.
Regards,
Sun-Tzu
PS - Please do not bother me again. A book does not last several millenia by being rushed. I require my concentration.