Ancient Chinese Warfare (67 page)

The evolution of multiple cultural centers in ancient China,
¹⁸
some in close proximity, others dispersed across the greater landscape, ensured a potential for conflict was inherently present. The theory of a dominant central culture whose aggressive expansion acts as an agent of change,
¹⁹
whose technology and craft techniques tend to disperse outward, directly or indirectly, though now viewed as outmoded, may yet accurately characterize some aspects of the dynamics of cultural ascension. Even when the central culture dominates militarily and culturally, indigenous elements often continue to comprise the core content in locally produced items, particularly in areas that later experience a resurgence.

Several groups developed the internal strength to physically and culturally resist challenges, even transform the aggressors, but others were conquered and assimilated. Their totems were destroyed, their cultural manifestations suppressed, and their identity largely obliterated. However,
a few that lacked the strength to vanquish potential aggressors, either concretely or abstractly, managed to continue on as independent enclaves until being overwhelmed by the next wave that might wash over them, even though the resulting amalgamation might retain a semblance of uniqueness. Still others responded to the ongoing challenges by evolving highly self-sufficient, warrior-oriented organizational structures and augmenting their martial power, ensuring not just their own survival but even their ascension into the ranks of formidable political entities.

Broadly envisioned, ancient China might be divided into five regions populated by ethnically distinct peoples or disparate cultures, the four quarters plus the core, the latter an inescapable concept since Chinese (Hua-Hsia) culture and power are currently identified as Yi-Luo River basin manifestations.
²⁰
According to their identities in traditional literature, the Yi dwelled in the east, Miao in the south, Ti in the west, and Jung in the north, though it is also possible to limit the dichotomization to simply the Hsia, Yi, and Miao before charting the dynamics of their interaction. Even though clashes of Yi with Yi were not unknown and the Hsia’s relationship with the Tung Yi was generally strong, the major schism frequently fell along an east-to-west axis.

Topographically, the terrain in the west was higher and problems with flooding were fewer, but agriculture more difficult; the heavily watered south had vastly more natural resources, ranging from mineral through animal and aquatic, including rice and China’s virtually ubiquitous bamboo, but was prone to semitropical diseases such as malaria and cholera; the east was susceptible to flooding but had abundant fishing and hunting and could easily sustain agricultural efforts; and the north quickly transitioned into the semiarid steppe and frigidity. Lifestyles and customs varied from region to region, totems were different and religious beliefs dissimilar, languages highly localized and often mutually unintelligible. To the extent that differences spawn antagonism and antagonism breeds conflict, the vectors of warfare were inescapable.

Surprisingly, the cultures with the greatest natural advantages did not invariably dominate increasingly larger areas despite their initial superiority. Even though the south and southeast enjoyed a hospitable climate and reportedly the relative absence of warfare,
²¹
the millet-based
cultures in the center initially proved more forceful. Furthermore, Liang-chu culture in the southeast and Tung Yi culture in Shandong were materially advanced over contemporary central plains manifestations, but as already seen they ultimately perished, raising numerous fundamental questions.
²²
Only after the Hsia strengthened did the Tung Yi become relatively quiescent and nominally acknowledge Hsia authority before becoming closely allied with the Shang.

Subsequently, just as the San Miao when they were being pummeled by the Hsia, perhaps because the Tung Yi lacked a sense of self-identity and were too fragmented to initiate the concerted action against the Shang necessary to survive, they were vanquished.
²³
Thereafter, apart from an adumbrated threat from Ch’u, it would be the peripheral entities of Chou and Ch’in somewhat to the northwest rather than any southern conglomeration that would ascend to power, lending credence to the idea, however limited in applicability, that environmental challenges stimulate self-reliance, that strong political entities more readily evolve out of deprivation than abundance.

Viewed year by year, ancient Chinese history appears highly static, bereft of monumental events or violent changes, but when the centuries are compressed an energetic swirl becomes visible in which groups grow and disperse, cultures rise and fall. In times of low population density the inhabitants of an entire village could easily move about, select a comparatively advantageous site, and establish themselves without clashing with others. But by the middle Neolithic most of the choice locations had been occupied and resident groups faced challenges not just from marauders and raiders but also from various-sized groups forced to relocate en masse by natural disasters, environmental degradation, or overpopulation.

As productivity nurtured population growth, new fields had to be opened to produce the grains necessary to sustain ever greater numbers, enlarging what might be termed the village’s radius of activity. This increased the likelihood of friction between members of settlements originally a full day’s walk away and depleted the small game and other wild resources in the intermediate zone. At the same time fields that required more than two hours to access tended to foster the establishment of locally clustered dwelling places that in turned served as the nucleus for
new settlements. This further augmented the population density and the potential for clashes with preexisting communities, who were then compelled to fortify their perimeters in order to deter or exclude potential interlopers.

Whether the nature of warfare in any particular civilization is culturally determined, although an important question, is essentially irrelevant at the incipient stage of conflict.
²⁴
Based on the patterns visible in ancient China, it may be that the development of highly fortified permanent communities was a greater stimulus to conflict and warfare than the mere accumulation of targetable wealth because of the inherent tension between the “provocative” sedentary lifestyle and seminomadic variants. Farming, even the slash and burn type that may have commenced about 7000 BCE and quickly exhausted the land, required a comparatively fixed lifestyle. Clearing the terrain for agricultural purposes immediately reduced the number and types of plants and animals that had previously been harvested from the former woodlands and marshes and therefore increased the community’s dependence on semicultivated and cultivated productivity, including the raising of animals for foodstuffs, which commenced with pigs around 6000 BCE.
²⁵

The emergence of vital crafts such as ceramics further reduced the otherwise inherent mobility of settlement members. For example, ceramic kilns were not easily disassembled, and the transport of fire bricks and other essential components such as turning wheels to other locations in the absence of vehicles would have been an onerous task. Building even the simplest production facilities would have similarly required enormous effort despite the advances in tools and the emergence of copper and bronze implements. In addition to thus having a major stake in preserving the gains wrought from the environment and protecting their dwellings, including increasingly opulent palace structures whose foundations required thousands of working days to construct, the settlement’s members needed to defend the infrastructure and the community’s very being.

Several modes of conflict seem to have characterized ancient China: purely localized clashes that may have stemmed from personal challenges or revenge but escalated to involve members of a greater alliance or tribe; a fundamental collision of major cultures; explosive friction
between minor peoples and a major group, the latter often but not necessarily sedentary, the victim of opportunistic raiding and plundering; and conquest activities undertaken by a major power in the quest for space and control. After becoming dominant, though not all-powerful, the Hsia and Shang can be characterized as having undertaken increasingly frequent, limited-strength campaigns to discourage and repress minor enemies, as well as occasionally more prolonged efforts to expel them from contiguous areas or annihilate them and annex their lands. Despite the lack of animal-powered transport that would have provided increased mobility and facilitated enlarging the domain of conflict, the expanding Shang also confronted the Hsia at several focused points before vanquishing it with a major expeditionary force, changing the nature of warfare.

Postconquest treatment of the defeated seems to have been largely determined by initial objectives. Late Neolithic warfare was not an idyllic exercise or some form of ritual activity, but very much a battle to the finish, as attested by often dramatic and compelling evidence that one group had subjugated another, such as by inscribing the victor’s name on sacred vessels of the vanquished
²⁶
or the sacrifice of prisoners, and numerous graves populated by a high proportion of youthful individuals, including women and children, who had violently perished. Whether in legendary Hsia battles or Shang conflict with the steppe peoples, it was preferable for those facing imminent defeat and remnants of conquered clans to migrate to more remote and even less hospitable terrain than to be absorbed, enslaved, or annihilated.

Perhaps most important of all, focused mental effort was applied to warfare and the problems of survival, coincident with more intelligent approaches to authority, administration, and the efforts of life. Although most clearly witnessed in the increasingly thorough planning of towns and fortifications together with the choice of strategically advantageous terrain, new developments in weapons, tactics, and even rudimentary strategy all resulted. The Hsia’s conquest of the San Miao, however long it may have required, was apparently made possible by the latter’s failure to adopt a viable guerilla strategy, exploit the advantages of their mountainous and marshy terrain, and capitalize on their superior archery power. Fragmented and isolated from potential allies, the tribal groups
must have been defeated in detail by a Hsia field force that probably never exceeded a few thousand men.

Traditional accounts portray the Hsia-San Miao clash as a decisive campaign with a preconceived objective that was conducted at long range, further implying that the stage of strategic planning had been realized. However, archaeological indications and demythologizing reveal that the events of a century or more were probably compressed, immediately suggesting that rather than an epic battle undertaken by massed forces on some sacred plains, their war proceeded as a series of localized clashes along their fluctuating boundary as the Lungshan/Hsia increasingly encroached upon the Miao.

Although the consequences of defeat were dispersal and extinction, traditional accounts fail to acknowledge the brutality of a quest prompted by Hsia expansionist ambition. Instead they focus on the proclaimed justness and inevitability of the victory, one mandated by Heaven but resisted by the “ignorant,” “uncivilized,” and “unruly” Miao, who failed to fathom the inevitability of history. Yet many of their cities far exceeded those identified with the Hsia in multiple ways, and their culture rivaled it in most material aspects, including the perfection of jade objects. Here “Virtue” had failed, whether because it was insufficient or because virtue always proves insufficient in the face of mutual antagonism and a desire for empire.

Warfare in ancient China thus stimulated innovation, social evolution, material progress, and creativity in general, but also shattered the tranquility and security of myriad settlements whose inhabitants had formerly been absorbed in the task of wresting a living from their often harsh environments.
²⁷
Whether out of a desire for additional space or simply an expression of the will to domination, human perversity and malevolent intent quickly ended any possibility of peaceful coexistence except for isolated villages and a few hermits ensconced in remote mountain hideaways. In the absence of any overarching political authority or other form of unification, conflict with external groups became an inescapable aspect of life. Anyone unprepared to do battle could have their possessions confiscated, have their family members enslaved, or be slain.

By not just exploiting martial skills but also thoroughly integrating warrior values, the Shang, if not the Hsia, can be said to have set China
on a trajectory of state building and aggressive activity. Whatever degree of credence may be given to the concept of a dynastic cycle, only the leisure of postconquest tranquility would allow for extolling the civil virtues deemed necessary for a sedentary society. Paradoxically, despite the ever-increasing lethality of essentially unremitting warfare, the disparagement of martial values and deprecation of battlefield prowess that would pervade court views throughout the imperial age would first emerge in the Warring States period. Though often detrimental to framing a viable response to external threats, resulting in China’s defeat and subjugation, the impact of this disparagement and deprecation remained superficial, unable to blunt the expansionist intent and numerous expeditionary campaigns witnessed across the centuries in the virtual interplay of
yin
and
yang
already prefigured in the dynamics of ancient conflict.

✦
NOTES
✦

COMMON JOURNAL AND COLLECTION titles used throughout the notes and bibliography are abbreviated as follows: