This exchange captures the principal thesis of both books under review here. Specifically, the requirements for success in war transcend the simple application of force, and Sun Tzu's statement of them remains the most insightful.

Strategic theorist Derek Yuen (PhD, Univ. of Reading)[2] maintains that, "despite its popularity in the Western world, The Art of War has rarely been understood correctly with due understanding of its Chinese context and Taoist roots." Instead, readers see only "facile references to short one- to two-sentence axioms, aphorisms, and phrases..." (4). He means Deciphering Sun Tzu to open "new avenues for further research that can play an essential role in enhancing the Western understanding of Chinese strategy" (7); to that end, he emphasizes

    ● the foundations of Chinese strategic thought and strategic culture,
    ● the Tao Te Ching as a strategic text,
    ● Lao Tzu’s place in Chinese strategic thought,
    ● Chinese military dialectics,
    ● the epistemology of Chinese strategy,
    ● the "Easternization" of Western strategic thought,
    ● the future direction of the study of Chinese strategic thought and culture,
    ● a new general theory of strategy transcending the East and West.

The volume comprises an ambitious introduction, six chapters, and a conclusion. The first three chapters "explore the life and ideas of Sun Tzu with the aim of recapturing the Chinese and Taoist contexts that are absent" in the incomplete and "simplistic" material available in the West (7). Chapter 1, "The System of Chinese Strategic Thought," lays out Yuen's two-dimensional scheme in which horizontal and vertical components represent the varieties (the Four Schools) and the evolution (the Three Levels) of Chinese strategy.

Subsequent chapters begin with a historical vignette and follow up with an extended discussion of the principle under review, while briefly interspersing other historical events. These added examples are interesting but not always particularly germane to the point under discussion. For example, in chapter 2, "Avoid Strength, Attack Weakness," the author echoes Victor Davis Hanson's argument that Western militaries prefer "pitting strength against strength."[3] That is, "the direct approach is strongly embedded in the Western mind, [the result of ] the heritage we have received from the Greeks" with their phalanx formations and head-on collisions of heavy infantrymen (31–32). But this characterization of Western warfare immediately follows a description of Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf's 1991 desert offensive in Iraq, which pointedly avoided a head-to-head clash with dug-in Iraqi troops to achieve a stunning, comprehensive victory in just four days. And, too, it has been shown[4] that the sort of combat McNeilly (and Hanson) attribute to the Greeks can be identified in many cultures at various stages of their development; in short, it is not unique in Western military tradition.

The last two chapters in this new edition of Sun Tzu and the Art of Modern Warfare depart farthest from the earlier edition. In chapter 7, "Terrorism and the Wars in Afghanistan and Iraq," McNeilly asks "What Would Sun Tzu Advise?" His answer reads like an extended reflection on military actions of the last dozen years or so, with verdicts like "Nation-building is not a wise use of assets"; any critical application of his selected six principles is not much in evidence, however (183, 190).

Chapter 8, "Ancient Principles for Future Battlefields," compares Sun Tzu's teachings to those of Clausewitz to determine where the Prussian theorist is right or wrong. He concludes with some observations on the value of Sun Tzu's principles in peace, war, and postwar settings.

* * *

Taken together, the books reviewed here read rather like the theological ruminations of two disci-ples on the teachings of a great prophet. Or a pioneering scientist. McNeilly writes that

That is, he argues, Sun Tzu's principles are like natural laws, and natural laws are inviolable. Therefore, Sun Tzu's principles are inviolable. The logical difficulty is obvious. While it can be argued that Sun Tzu's principles are analogous to the theories and practices used by scientists to explore the natural world, they are not in themselves statements of the actual laws of nature. Moreover, even if scientists and engineers act perfectly in accord with their best theories and practices, they can still fail. (Consider the spellbinding movie of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge collapse in November 1940 or the history of the de Havilland DH 106 Comet crashes.) Neither scientists nor engineers (nor soldiers) can escape the consequences of the difference between their theories and the—often unknown—laws of physics.

Yuen, too, treats the master with a reverence that is peculiar in an academic study. He stresses that a knowledge of Taoism is essential to achieving a sound understanding of The Art of War, observing that Westerners view Lao Tzu’s Tao Te Ching as a work of philosophy, while in China "the text has often been viewed as a work of strategy. Lao Tzu's famous saying, 'governing the state by being straight-forward and waging war by being crafty' ... was used to define the ... leading school among the Four Schools of Chinese Strategic Thought" (65).

Both books share an emphasis on Sun Tzu's holistic view of national strategy, which presupposes a centralization of control or a solitary coordinating authority directing all aspects of national strategy. Sun Tzu wrote when the nation and the leader effectively constituted a single entity. By contrast, a distinct civil-military divide exists in most modern Western democracies. Neither McNeilly nor Yuen indicates whether such societies are less able than totalitarian states to adopt national strategies that follow from Sun Tzu's teachings.

Both books have their virtues. Deciphering Sun Tzu will appeal more to academics able to stomach its enthusiasm for Chinese strategic exceptionalism and belief in Sun Tzu's near infallibility. Sun Tzu and the Art of Modern Warfare, on the other hand, will appeal more to casual readers, though its author is at times too certain of the efficacy of Sun Tzu's teachings. These are more the works of True Believers than of critical students of strategy.