MACHINA

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by Sebastian Marshall


  “The strong manly ones in life are those who understand the meaning of the word patience. Patience means restraining one's inclinations. There are seven emotions: joy, anger, anxiety, adoration, grief, fear, and hate, and if a man does not give way to these he can be called patient. I am not as strong as I might be, but I have long known and practiced patience. And if my descendants wish to be as I am, they must study patience.”

  We will talk about the totality of Ieyasu’s Patience later – but I would like to call attention to one particular part of that magnificent quote.

  Patience means restraining one's inclinations.

  Isn’t that an outstanding quote?

  Muse on it – this chapter shows us a great example of both success and failure at restraining one’s inclinations.

  General Ikeda let himself get distracted from a key plan when he was embarrassed and enraged by a war wound and wanted to avenge his pride. The end result is that he was killed, his son was killed, Hideyoshi’s nephew and heir was almost killed, the majority of the Ikeda clan soldiers on the campaign were killed, their forces disintegrated, and the campaign was a complete failure.

  He followed his inclinations – anger, anxiety, and hate – and it led him down.

  Meanwhile, the Tokugwa Generals, in their reverie at the decisive victory, were on the verge of giving way to joy, anger, and hate. Tokugawa said: no. Withdraw.

  But this does not mean paralysis – just the opposite. It means setting one’s sights on the mission of the day, and driving faithfully at that mission until it is complete. A man’s “inclinations” that get in the way of the mission must be restrained.

  But that includes fear, too. Do remember that Tokugawa Ieyasu forward-deployed the majority of his soldiers to be able to defend against the superior Toyotomi numbers, and then, in the moment of crisis, he moved almost the entirety of his forces to thwart the Toyotomi blitzkrieg.

  Burn this into your mind –

  Patience means restraining one's inclinations.

  ***

  A FOPPISH AFTERMATH

  Toyotomi won some small sieges with his large army, but at bad economy and further exhausting his troops. The token victories were hollow, and if anything, further weakened his position.

  Hideyoshi was puzzling his way through the situation in his mind –

  He will out-wait us, and time is on their side. We can’t have another Komaki Campaign happen; another set of battles like that and we’re done for. If we take even half of that amount of damage again, the whole nation will rally to Ieyasu’s banner, and we are finished.

  He’s alone and thinking on the puzzle that is Ieyasu.

  Ieyasu won’t overreach. He’s dug in. We can’t beat him with a forward assault. And every day we wait, his power grows and ours dims. Damn, that Ieyasu is intractable…

  Hideyoshi has already tried to navigate a diplomatic/political peace and work his machinations behind the scenes, but Tokugawa had seen through them and cut off all negotiations.

  Ieyasu is unbeatable. Where is the weak link?

  And his eyes lit up.

  Oh.

  Hideyoshi was smiling for the first time in weeks as he called for his best messengers and diplomats to assemble.

  ***

  HE DID WHAT?

  Ieyasu was rarely puzzled or emotional; his old friend and close confidant Hattori Hanzo had not seen him so frazzled since the near-run escape after the disaster of Mikatagihara over a decade before.

  Ieyasu yells –

  “He did what?”

  Hanzo, normally entirely stalwart and unemotional, could only shake his head.

  “I know. It’s inexcusable. It’s… who could have foreseen this?”

  Ieyasu sighs. The anger isn’t helping.

  “Well, I suppose we should send congratulations then.”

  Hanzo laughed. “Just like that?”

  Ieyasu nods.

  “Just like that. Undefeated in the field, defeated by god-forsaken foppery. So be it. Let’s start drafting that letter of congratulations. It will be more favorable if we acknowledge the peace before demands are sent.”

  Hanzo marvels at Lord Ieyasu. So much blood had been spilt, so much treasure had been spent, complete victory seemed within sight… and then, this.

  Ieyasu gives a final order –

  “Hanzo, we must as well enjoy this nonsense, as much as we can. Get your intelligence corps to find out exactly what every general on their side likes best in the world, and spare no expense at procuring gifts, luxuries, and treasures.”

  He thinks a moment longer, and takes a precious heirloom sword off his belt and hands it to Hanzo.

  “Send Hideyoshi my favorite sword with the letter of congratulations. He’ll understand what it means.”

  ***

  JUST LIKE THAT

  Hideyoshi was laughing riotously and slapping his knee. He was in a whimsical mood again.

  “His sword? Oh my, I already held Ieyasu in high esteem, but he really is something else. Perhaps he’s a kami or bodhisattva – certainly, he’s no mortal man!”

  Hideyoshi had arranged a secret conference with the idiot Oda Nobuo – the man he’d usurped and had been trying to kill at the start of the war – and got him drunk, lavishing gold and treasures on him, telling him stories about how terrible it is that someone spread rumors or innuendos that he was anything but loyal to Prince Sanposhi, Nobuo himself, and the Oda Clan.

  Hideyoshi had wanted to merely start opening a rift between Nobuo and Ieyasu, but he was shocked when his initial peace terms were accepted by Nobuo without checking with Ieyasu first – a complete breach of etiquette, but also a show of ferocious idiocy. Only a vain and small man could be wooed by an enemy for a bottle of liquor, a chest of gold, and some empty promises.

  Ieyasu heard the news from his own messengers, and then from Hideyoshi’s envoy, before Nobuo had even bothered to write him. The young imbecile must have been mightily embarrassed when his own senior retainers pointed out how foolishly he’d made peace – with such a stronger position, giving it all up for… nothing. For empty promises and a trivial amount of treasure.

  Ieyasu and Hideyoshi had perhaps been destined to fight in the aftermath of Nobunaga’s death – the nation of Japan seemed too small for these two giant men – and Ieyasu had bettered Hideyoshi on the battlefield.

  But Hideyoshi had outmaneuvered him with alcohol, gold, and flattery; with Nobuo unilaterally signing a peace treaty with Hideyoshi, Ieyasu’s legitimacy for war was destroyed… while simultaneously his troop strength was reduced by the defection.

  The senior leadership of both sides thought Nobuo was an idiot. Both sides debated having him assassinated. Hideyoshi decided against it, to not further risk his sullying his reputation. Ieyasu choked back his personal animosity, and figured that leaving the idiot Nobuo alive in Hideyoshi’s camp would be more of a liability for Hideyoshi than an asset over the long run.

  Hideyoshi had thus been surprised twice in short succession – first, by just how pliable and foolish Nobuo was; it was too easy. Second, by how rapidly Ieyasu had accepted the brutal stupidity and how he had responded perfectly.

  “His sword, Kanbei! What a remarkable man. Obviously, I’ve always respected him. But I didn’t want to like him. But I really can’t help myself, I like him. The Heavens poured into his tea cup a bitter mix of boiling mud and sand, and he just swallows it in one gulp!”

  “It’s a great victory, my lord,” Kanbei starts slowly, “But you know, he’s still the most dangerous man on the field.”

  “Oh, Kanbei, I know, but the day is ours. Let’s have a little party to celebrate. How old is Princess Chacha now? 18? We should invite her, she lights up any room she’s in.”

  Over the coming weeks, the Toyotomi celebrated while the Tokugawa demobilized, gave back most of the gains they’d won on the battlefield, and made further concessions besides.

  Hideyoshi was in a time of great revelry overseeing the finishing touches
on his brilliant new castle in Osaka, and was spending more time with Princess Chacha, the girl he’d taken from the burning flames of Katsuie’s castle.

  More gifts and letters of goodwill came in from the Tokugawa – written remarkably poignantly and with seemingly sincerity, though no one in the Toyotomi high command really believed it – and the Toyotomi forces celebrated as they consolidated their gains.

  Kanbei, though, felt uneasy. The spring winds seemed unusually cold.

  Vantages #9: Classical and Romantic Play

  A DIFFICULT TASK

  “Telling someone how to negotiate well is a difficult task. A person’s attitude toward life and toward the game have a strong, immeasurable, and probably unalterable effect on how, and how well, he or she negotiates in any wargame. Hundreds of essays have been written about this subject. Certain principles and common failings can be described, however, which no player should ignore.”

  – Dr. Lewis Pulsipher, “The Art of Negotiation in Diplomacy”

  ***

  THE LAST STAND OF THE HOJO CLAN

  Lord Hojo Ujimasa’s heart sinks into dismay at this final change in the state of affairs.

  When over 220,000 battle-hardened Toyotomi loyalists had besieged the 82,000 Hojo defenders spread between different castles and fortifications, there was no chance at counterattack. The Toyotomi forces were better trained, better equipped, with more modern weapons, and more experience.

  Lord Hojo had desperately hoped that someone – anyone – in Hideyoshi Toyotomi’s army would start feeling rash and foolishly try to force an attack of overwhelming force. The only hope for the Hojo was winning multiple decisive defensive engagements.

  But the latest “reinforcements” that arrived to Hideyoshi’s banner chilled his heart more than any weapons, warships, or soldiers could possibly have.

  Arriving just beyond the front lines of the siege were… entertainers, Kabuki actors, and courtesans.

  He tried to choke back tears, seeing Hideyoshi’s maneuver to keep his soldiers from getting restless.

  At the site of this morbid battlefield entertainment arriving, Lord Hojo sighs deeply.

  “We have lost.”

  ***

  THE SIEGE TO END ALL SIEGES

  “The massive army of Toyotomi Hideyoshi surrounded the castle in what has been called "the most unconventional siege lines in samurai history." The samurai were entertained by everything: from concubines, prostitutes and musicians to acrobats, fire-eaters, and jugglers. The defenders slept on the ramparts with their arquebuses and armor; despite their smaller numbers, they discouraged Hideyoshi from attacking. So, for the most part, this siege consisted of traditional starvation tactics.” – Wikipedia: Siege of Odawara

  It more resembled an evening revelry than a battlefield – dug-in with overwhelming force, Hideyoshi had called for a great spectacle to keep his men entertained during the long siege.

  It had been six years since diplomatically outmaneuvering Tokugawa Ieyasu after the Toyotomi had suffered those rare battlefield defeats at Komaki and Nagakute in 1584.

  In 1585, in the wake of Hideyoshi’s consolidation, the Imperial Court in Kyoto had named him to one of the highest ranks possible in the nation – Kampaku – “Grand Regent of the Nation.”

  Two years later, in 1587, Hideyoshi had destroyed all the scattered opposition in Japan, unifying the country. In the next two years, he passed the famous law that only samurai could carry swords and carried out a great “sword hunt” through the nation, disarming the various peasant insurgents and warrior monks which still had weapons. Seeing the rising power of Christianity in Japan, he banished missionaries and executed a number of particularly pious Christians as an example.

  After being outmaneuvered diplomatically in 1584, Tokugawa Ieyasu had quickly fallen into line and been on his very best behavior, supporting Hideyoshi with gifts and taxes. When the call came that the final battle of the era would be the subjugation of the Hojo Clan, Tokugawa mobilized his troops and marched under Hideyoshi’s banner.

  With Tokugawa Ieyasu brought to heel and falling into the new order, the Hojo Clan was the last major source of potential resistance to the Toyotomi.

  They carried an illustrious name – the original Hojo Clan had been rulers of Japan 300 years beforehand. Their power had been largely eliminated 200 years before, but one “Lord Ise” had married a princess descended from the Hojo line and had resurrected the name and line.

  This was perhaps a tentative connection to the past, but the name still carried great prestige and awe. Lord Hojo Ujimasa was married to the daughter of the extremely powerful late Takeda Shingen; their son and heir was married to Tokugawa Ieyasu’s beloved second daughter and thus was the son-in-law of Ieyasu.

  The Hojo had largely been neutral for much of the Sengoku Civil Wars, occasionally lightly fighting against the Oda and Tokugawa – the Hojo/Tokugawa marriage had been as a result of the peace treaty in the aftermath skirmishes following Nobunaga’s death.

  But this mostly-neutrality had not saved them once Hideyoshi had consolidated the rest of the Japan. Fearing their name and lineage, Hideyoshi had declared war on the Hojo – the last and final major threat to his power.

  After months of the siege, Lord Hojo Ujimatsu saw that his soldiers were weak and starving to death. The Toyotomi had won their final war of conquest with very little fighting at all.

  In the middle of August, 1590, Hojo Ujimasa made the orders for an orderly surrender to the Toyotomi forces, and composed his death poem –

  Autumn wind of eve

  Blow away the clouds that mass

  O'er the moon's pure light.

  And the mists that cloud our mind

  Do thou sweep away as well.

  Now we disappear

  Well, what must we think of it?

  From the sky we came

  Now we may go back again

  That's at least one point of view.

  He then fell on his sword in ritual seppuku.

  Toyotomi Hideyoshi had fully unified and pacified Japan.

  ***

  VANTAGES #9: CLASSICAL AND ROMANTIC PLAY

  “It is often surprising to new players to learn that not every player wants to accomplish the same thing. Some play for excitement, not caring if they win or lose as long as the game is full of wild incidents. Most play to win the game, but there the ways part. Many players (the “drawers”) believe that, failing to win, a draw is the next best result, while anything else is a loss. At the extreme, even a 7-way draw is better than second place. Others (the “placers”) believe that to survive in second place while someone else wins is better than a draw. At the extreme are those who would “rather die than draw.” Such fundamental differences in world view can have a decisive effect on a game.” – Pulsipher

  The universe is vast, vaster than all possible human comprehension.

  On any given day, you have nearly an unlimited set of options of what you can do and turn your attention to.

  It can thus be very hard to understand all possible options in business, in developing one’s career, in understanding people, in navigating the world and your life to make wonderful things happen.

  This is where games can be very useful.

  I don’t play games as much as I used to – these days, my roles and duties in the world don’t allow me the luxury of playing games for very long or very often. But I have loved and still do love games for the lessons they can teach us. (Heck, I wrote a whole book – Roguelike – on applied mathematics and behavioral models from video games.)

  Games are great because the mechanics are limited and bounded. In the American board game “Monopoly,” there are only a few options available to the player. On the first moves, you roll the dice to move your figure. If you land on an unowned property, you can buy it or not buy it. That’s the extent of your choices.

  Later in the game, the complexity and choices grow – when you own an entire set of properties in one area – a “monopoly
” – you can choose to build houses or hotels on the property to get higher rents if another player lands on it. Additionally, once players own significant property, they can barter and trade properties between themselves.

  But it all starts very simply. You roll the dice. You buy or don’t buy the property you land on. Later, you get more options – build or don’t build? Build how much?

  Yet, even with the added decisions, the game is infinitely smaller and simpler than the vastness of all of reality. You can, if you want, mathematically model the chance of any given property on the board being landed upon. The high level competitive Monopoly players – there’s a whole highly competitive subculture devoted to the game – know the equations and frequency of landing on every single spot on the board. They can thus calculate mathematical yields and optimize which properties to buy and develop, in which order.

 

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