Digging the Roots of Fruitless Warfare: The Art of War and the Strategy of Hunger (16th Century)

Digging the Roots of Fruitless Warfare: The Art of War and the Strategy of Hunger (16th Century)

In the Warring States period, "food" was more important than swords and spears in determining victory or defeat - such was the truth of the battlefield. Warfare began with strength and ended with food. Behind the scenes of battles lurked elaborate strategies for the storage and distribution of food.

For example, the planting of chestnut trees within the castle was a symbol of the wisdom of the warring lords. Chestnuts bear fruit in a few years, are resistant to starvation, and can be preserved. They are not susceptible to drought or flooding like rice or wheat, and they thrive in the wild. In preparation for a siege, planting fruit trees such as chestnuts, persimmons, and mulberry both inside and outside the castle walls functioned as a "food fortification" in times of emergency. It is said that famous commanders such as Takeda Shingen and Uesugi Kenshin also devoted themselves to forest management and fruit tree cultivation in their territories.

Manipulating the market by buying up rice is an extremely realistic strategy that can also be applied to currency policy in the modern era. For example, Oda Nobunaga bought up all the rice in an area before a battle, driving up the price and preventing enemy soldiers from securing food for their troops. Or, by buying up all the rice at once in a castle town in the enemy's territory, he would create economic instability and civil discontent, aiming for internal collapse without a battle. Such "economic attacks" were a form of wiles that could not be measured only by the number of stones or the strength of the army.

The ultimate strategy was the "attack on food supply" as an economic battle before the siege. Surrounding the enemy castle, cutting off supplies over time, and waiting for internal starvation and chaos - this was a tactic in which Nobunaga excelled, and he was particularly thorough in his attacks on Ishiyama Honganji Temple and the Nagashima Ikkou Putsch. According to one theory, he even repelled small boats bringing in rice bales by blocking moats and rivers.

The war of attrition was also a cruel method of warfare. The attitude of the warriors, who drove not only their soldiers but also the peasants to starvation, shows that the battle was not merely an honor for the warriors, but functioned as "an act of governance that involved the life and death of the people. Victory was not shouted under a military banner, but quietly piled up by rice bales in a warehouse.

Thus, the warring generals of the warring states thought of agricultural policy and tactics, economics and military affairs as one. Before crossing blades, they read the market, plowed the fields, and planted fruitful trees. This quiet lineage of wisdom raises questions about the nature of "preparedness" and "attrition" even today.