Secret operations are essential in war; upon them the army

The words of Sun Tzu — “Secret operations are essential in war; upon them the army relies to make its every move.” — reveal a truth as old as conflict itself: that victory is not won by strength alone, but by wisdom hidden from the eyes of the enemy. For armies that move in open sight may be predicted, but those who cloak their intentions with secrecy strike with the force of thunder. Deception, disguise, and intelligence are the shadows in which triumph is born, and Sun Tzu, the master of strategy, knew that without such secret operations, the strongest army becomes clumsy, predictable, and doomed.

To speak of secrecy is to speak of foresight. The general who gathers knowledge of the enemy’s position, who disguises his own movements, who spreads rumors to confuse and divides foes, already wins before swords are drawn. This is the art of striking where the enemy is weakest, of appearing where least expected. Sun Tzu taught that war should be swift and efficient, and secrecy is the oil that allows the gears of war to move without grinding. Without it, even mighty armies stumble, and even the bravest soldiers fall.

History provides countless examples of this wisdom. Consider the great deception before the D-Day invasion of 1944. The Allies created false armies, fake radio chatter, and phantom divisions to convince the Germans that the invasion would come at Calais instead of Normandy. The secret worked. German forces were misled, and when the true landing came, their strength was divided. That secret operation saved thousands of lives and changed the course of the war. Here Sun Tzu’s words proved timeless: the army relied on secrecy to make its every move, and through deception, victory was achieved.

Or recall the Battle of Trenton in the American Revolution. George Washington crossed the icy Delaware River on Christmas night, moving in silence while his enemy slept, believing no attack could come in such conditions. That secrecy gave him a swift and decisive victory, reviving the cause of independence at a moment when hope was fading. The soldiers’ courage mattered, but it was secrecy that turned courage into triumph. Without it, Washington’s movement would have been suicide; with it, it became genius.

But the teaching is not only for generals. In life itself, there are battles where secrecy and discretion are essential. The wise man does not reveal every plan, nor the just woman every intention. To protect dreams, to guard against envy, to outmaneuver opposition, one must sometimes move like the shadow, silent and unseen, until the moment of action arrives. For to reveal all is to invite resistance; to conceal wisely is to prepare the ground for success. Thus, Sun Tzu’s counsel speaks also to the struggles of every heart.

The lesson is clear: victory belongs not only to the strong, but to the subtle. One must learn to value preparation, to guard secrets, and to use knowledge like a weapon. Recklessness in speech is as dangerous as recklessness in battle. Tell only what is needed, act only when the moment is ripe, and let your adversaries stumble in confusion while you walk the hidden path to triumph.

What then should we do? In our daily struggles, whether in work, in relationships, or in the defense of principles, we must carry Sun Tzu’s wisdom. Learn when to speak and when to remain silent. Seek knowledge before acting, and never reveal more than is wise. Let your actions be prepared in secret, and unveiled only when success is certain. In this way, the wisdom of the ancients arms us not only for the wars of nations, but for the battles of life.

Thus, let his words echo through the ages: “Secret operations are essential in war.” For as the hidden root nourishes the tree, so too does secrecy nourish victory. May we learn this art — to move unseen, to strike with precision, and to triumph not only by power, but by wisdom concealed until the perfect hour.