By Amy Remeikis
Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, Sun Tzu teaches us.
Defeated warriors go to war first - and then seek to win.
In extraordinary scenes, the government, through its three senators on the legal and constitutional affairs references committee, went to war with the nation's second law officer in full view of the public - a battle it lost the moment it took up verbal arms.
Ostensibly an inquiry into whether Attorney-General George Brandis consulted with Solictor-General Justin Gleeson before making a legal direction, the silk stoush was hijacked by politics, morphing into a brutal battle in which Mr Gleeson was made both the weapon and the target, and Senator Brandis' career the prize.
To senators Ian Macdonald, Linda Reynolds and Barry O'Sullivan, Mr Gleeson was the enemy. To Labor, he was the tool with which to wound the government.
It left Mr Gleeson tip-toeing through a minefield, but one in which years of wrangling with the law had left him well-equipped.
With the bearing of a man who just wanted the matter resolved, Mr Gleeson was resolute, his ankles crossed showing the skin where sock met pinstriped trouser, his toes poised to launch forward, his voice firm and clear.
He was on the side of the law, he said, upholding an office that has largely stayed out of the public's view and thoughts since its creation in 1916, as Labor and the Coalition played tug-of-war based on their own agenda.
While Senator O'Sullivan sat to the side in the favoured stance of the silent interrogator, arms crossed, gaze unwavering, Senator Macdonald launched straight into attack, turning the question "are you a barrister" into a hand grenade, growing petulant at Mr Gleeson's response, interrupting and throwing his hands in the air in a red-faced tantrum that ended with the insult he "always gave witnesses the respect they deserved".
The slap of his glove evoked gasps from the watching audience, which only fuelled Senator Macdonald's assault.
Any pretence this inquiry was about a legal direction was abandoned, the Trojan horse cracked open to reveal the battle plan of both sides, with both gunning for a different man's career.
Senator Macdonald, who wielded his iPad timer as a weapon, ate a biscuit and conferenced with Senator O'Sullivan as the nation's Solicitor-General defended his actions, quipping he was able to do two things at once when Mr Gleeson asked for his attention, unaware it was the second time the request had been made.
The senator's behaviour, and the transparent nature of the attack, saw him easily outmanned by a more experienced opponent who easily lobbed back each grenade while simultaneously pushing back against Labor's attempts to manoeuvre him into their own battle plan.
But Mr Gleeson was a bit player in his own hearing, as two opposing sides of a fraught Parliament carried on a fight which had nothing and everything to do with him.
It's a battle which will continue beyond the scope of the inquiry, but armed as it is with defeated warriors, neither side can ever truly hope to win - and one which has seen both happy to sacrifice the man in the middle to make a point.