Momentum

H andling many men is the same as handling a few. It is only a matter of dividing them into units. That is organization. To manage a large force as you manage a small one — this is a matter of dividing up the numbers. That is what organization is.

Fighting with a large army is the same as fighting with a small one. It is only a matter of signals — flags and drums. That is form and name. To direct a large force in battle as you direct a small one — this is a matter of formations and signals. That is what form and name are.

Your whole army can take the enemy head-on and never be broken — if you have mastered the direct and the indirect. The reason a great host can meet the enemy and suffer no defeat is the direct and the indirect.

“Water rushing fast enough to roll stones — that is momentum.”

In any fight, you engage with the direct and win with the indirect. The commander who is good at the indirect has no end to him — boundless as heaven and earth, never running dry like the rivers. Things finish and start over, like sun and moon. They die and come back, like the four seasons. In all fighting, you join battle with the direct and secure victory with the indirect. So one skilled at bringing out the indirect is as endless as heaven and earth, as inexhaustible as the rivers; ending and beginning again like the sun and moon, dying and being reborn like the four seasons.

There are only five notes, yet you could never hear all the tunes they make. Only five colors, yet you could never see all their combinations. Only five tastes, yet you could never taste all their blends. In war there are only two forces — direct and indirect — yet the ways they combine have no end. Direct and indirect give rise to each other, round and round, like a circle with no beginning. Who could ever exhaust them? There are no more than five notes, yet their variations cannot all be heard. No more than five colors, yet their variations cannot all be seen. No more than five tastes, yet their variations cannot all be tasted. In battle there is no more than the direct and the indirect, yet their variations cannot be exhausted. Direct and indirect give birth to each other, like a ring that has no end — who could exhaust them?

Water rushing fast enough to roll stones — that is momentum. A hawk striking fast enough to break its prey's back — that is timing. So a good commander makes his momentum overwhelming and his timing tight. The momentum is a crossbow drawn full; the timing is the trigger released. When rushing water moves so fast it carries boulders along, that is momentum. When the strike of a bird of prey shatters its quarry, that is timing. So one skilled in war makes his momentum steep and his timing short — the momentum like a drawn crossbow, the timing like the release of the trigger.

In the noise and confusion of battle, the fighting looks like chaos, but there is no chaos in it. In the dust and the churn, your ranks may seem to have no front or back, yet they cannot be beaten. Amid the swirl and the tumult, the fighting is confused, yet there can be no confusion; amid the murk and the chaos, the formation comes full circle, yet it cannot be defeated.

Disorder is born out of order, cowardice out of courage, weakness out of strength. Order and disorder come down to organization. Courage and cowardice come down to momentum. Strength and weakness come down to form. So a commander who is good at moving the enemy shows him a shape, and the enemy follows it. He offers something, and the enemy takes it. He baits him with the prospect of gain, then lies in wait with his whole force. Disorder comes out of order, fear out of courage, weakness out of strength. Order and disorder are a matter of organization; courage and fear, a matter of momentum; strength and weakness, a matter of form. So one skilled at moving the enemy shows him a form he must respond to, gives him something he must take — moves him with the bait of advantage and waits for him in full readiness.

So a good commander looks to momentum and does not lay the burden on individual men. He picks his men and lets the momentum do the work. A man riding momentum sends his troops into battle the way you roll logs and stones: on level ground they sit still, on a slope they move; square, they stop; round, they roll. The momentum of well-led troops is a round stone rolling down a mountain a thousand feet high. That is momentum. So one skilled in war seeks victory in momentum and does not demand it of individual men; thus he can select the men and let momentum work. He who uses momentum sends men into battle as one rolls logs and stones — by nature, stones and logs lie still on flat ground and move on a slope, stop when square, roll when round. So the momentum of well-commanded troops is like a round boulder rolled down a mountain a thousand feet high. That is momentum.

兵勢 The original Chinese · honored as an artifact

凡治眾如治寡，分數是也。

Opening lines, classical Chinese · The Art of War 孫子兵法