#69 What Do You See in the Shadow of War?
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 69: Amidst the dark realities of conflict, Lao Tzu reveals both sorrow and the need for extreme caution.
Welcome back to The Wisdom of Lao Tzu.
This week, we explore Chapter 69 of the Tao Te Ching, where Lao Tzu reveals a profound yet often overlooked truth about warfare.
When should a leader choose the path of battle in the face of conflict? Is there ever a justifiable reason to wage war?
Lao Tzu offers a surprising perspective that challenges the essence of power and strategy.
Let’s find out.
**69**
用兵有言:
「吾不敢為主,而為客;不敢進寸,而退尺。」
是謂行無行;攘無臂;扔無敵;執無兵。
禍莫大於輕敵,輕敵幾喪吾寶。
故抗兵相若,哀者勝矣。
Border-crossing: English translations
#1 Lin Yutang’s version
There is the maxim of military strategies;
I dare not be the first to invade, but rather be the invaded.
Dare not press forward an inch, but rather retreat a foot.
That is, to march without formations,
To roll not up the sleeves,
To charge not in frontal attacks,
To arm without weapons.
There is no greater catastrophe than to underestimate the enemy.
To underestimate the enemy might entail the loss of my treasures.
Therefore when two equally matched armies meet,
It is the man of sorrow who wins.
#2 Edmund Ryden’s version
In the deployment of troops there is a saying which runs:
I dare not be an aggressor, rather shall I be a defender;
I dare not advance an inch, rather shall I withdraw a foot.
This is called,
‘Marching when there is no road;
Rolling up one’s sleeve when there is no arm;
Grasping when there is no weapon;
Collaring when there is no enemy.’
Of disasters none is greater than underestimating your opponent;
Underestimating your opponent is to come near to losing my treasures.
Therefore,
When armies are raised and are much alike, then the one that grieves will win.1
#3 D. C. Lau’s version
The strategists have a saying,
I dare not play the host but play the guest.
I dare not advance an inch but retreat a foot instead.
This is known as marching forward when there is no road,
Rolling up one’s sleeves when there is no arm,
Dragging one’s adversary by force when there is no adversary,
And taking up arms when there are no arms.
There is no disaster greater than taking on an enemy too easily.
So doing nearly cost me my treasure.
Thus of two sides raising arms against each other, it is the one that is sorrow-stricken that wins.2
Deeper dive
He who by Tao purposes to help the ruler of men
Will oppose all conquest by force of arms.
For such things are wont to rebound.
Where armies are, thorns and brambles grow.
The raising of a great host
Is followed by a year of dearth.
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 30
Lao Tzu’s guiding principle on warfare is not centered on conquest or triumph but on the principles of defense and preservation.
He introduces two essential tenets when it comes to the grave matter of war:
Defense over attack
At its core, Lao Tzu does not view war as a viable means for resolving disputes or conflicts. Instead, he sees military action as a last resort, exercised only when survival is at stake.
His approach to warfare embodies a can-not-help attitude—an acceptance of war only under extreme necessity.
Lao Tzu warns rulers and leaders who wield military power not to initiate war arbitrarily. Warfare, after all, is a critical affair that ripples across a nation with profound consequences.
A single defeat can disrupt the lives of countless people, and even victory carries a weighty price. A responsible leader, therefore, must understand the unintended consequences that can arise from mobilizing armies.
Moreover, wars inevitably involve killing, and killing not only extinguishes human life but also erodes human decency.
The brutality of war, with its atrocities and dehumanizing violence, has the power to degrade the collective spirit, lowering the moral fiber of society. For Lao Tzu, the loss of life in warfare—whether it be innocent civilians or soldiers—is a tragedy we bring upon ourselves.
Bravery rooted in compassion
Lao Tzu’s cautious stance on warfare stems from his life principle of compassion (see the post below).
In our modern world, compassion in the context of war may seem idealistic, even naive. Some may argue that it is military strength, not compassion, that determines the outcome of wars.
Yet, Lao Tzu does not advocate abandoning military power altogether. Instead, he suggests leaders should seek alternative solutions before turning to war.
But what if war becomes unavoidable, thrust upon us by forces beyond our control?
In that case, Lao Tzu’s suggestion is clear: one goes to war not to conquer but to end the conflict. He states, “Of two sides raising arms against each other, it is the one that is sorrow-stricken that wins.”
When applied in defense, compassion generates a unique kind of bravery, one that is rooted not in aggression but in the responsibility to protect and preserve.
A compassionate strategist approaches war with reluctance and sorrow, not celebration. Victory is not something to be glorified but mourned. As Lao Tzu reminds us:
The slaying of multitudes should be mourned with sorrow.
A victory should be celebrated with the Funeral Rite.
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 31
The true cost of warfare is not just the loss of human life, as the price paid to ensure survival often comes at the expense of our shared humanity. It is this recognition that should temper any desire for conquest.
In contemplating Lao Tzu’s teachings, we are left with essential questions: What kind of strategist do you choose to be? Are you a strategist of compassion and restraint, or one of violence and domination? Do you wage war for defense and protection, or do you engage in aggression and conquest?
Spiritual Taoism
Even in victory, there is no beauty,
And who calls it beautiful
Is one who delights in slaughter.
He who delights in slaughter
Will not succeed in his ambition to rule the world.
Tao Te Ching, Chapter 31
As I write this letter and revisit Lao Tzu’s reflections on warfare, I am struck by how parts of our world are ravaged by conflict while some others live in constant fear of military invasion and security threats.
War has long been woven into the fabric of human history. As long as desires persist—whether for resources, status, or dominance—and as long as misunderstandings and misjudgments of each other’s intentions prevail, wars will continue to haunt us.
This raises a profound question: can we, at a fundamental level, rise above our nature and choose peace over war when the time comes? And, is there ever a legitimate or justifiable reason to go to war?
War should never be the first option
While Lao Tzu’s teachings on warfare may not always seem practical or effective in a modern context, they offer a humanistic perspective that urges us toward compassion and caution in the face of conflict.
His philosophy may not eliminate war, but it has the potential to help us better manage disputes and, perhaps, reduce the occurrence of wars.
From Lao Tzu’s viewpoint, military action should only be undertaken from a defensive stance. After any war, the victorious side should mourn the loss of soldiers, regardless of which side they fought for.
War, in his eyes, is justified only when it is fought for survival and protection, not for the sake of aggression or the infliction of suffering on others.
In keeping with this principle, there is no valid reason to invade another country, territory, or region based on contrived justifications.
When a government claims to wage war for glory, punishment, or national unification, such reasoning is little more than a thin veil for ulterior motives and self-serving desires.
In essence, from a Taoist perspective, initiating wars of invasion is fundamentally unacceptable. Those who do so are driven by a lust for power and control, lacking empathy for the devastation their actions inflict on innocent lives. These leaders are slaves to their own desires, blind to the suffering they cause.
Ultimately, such individuals lack the capacity for compassion, understanding, and basic common sense.
If they were private citizens, society would be expected to monitor and restrain them. When these individuals hold positions of power to influence policy, they cannot be trusted. And if a government acts in this way, it must be contained and closely watched.
We often pride ourselves on being rational beings, yet we repeatedly become irrational and emotional on the battlefield and rashly go to war based on specious reasons.
While Lao Tzu’s principles may not prevent war, they offer a crucial reminder: By approaching warfare with compassion, prudence, and defense over attack, we give the world a better chance—less suffering, more hope, and a firmer foundation for the future.
Thanks for reading!
All my best,
Yuxuan
Daodejing, trans. Edmund Ryden, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), 143.
Tao Te Ching, trans. D. C. Lau. (London: Penguin Classics, 1963), 76.
Excellent, thank you!