The Thrust

Although somewhat less physically profound than the cut, the thrust is considered by most practitioners of edged arts as being more unconditionally lethal than the cut. An interesting thought.
As one both willing to learn and unwilling to immediately believe ambiguous statements, I have taken time out of my regular training regimen to research this idea thoroughly.
Now, I imagine the cut as being utterly devastating when performed to its highest potential, but there is something to be said for the resistance certain materials offer to the dynamics of the cutting act. We can look at historical and modern principles that lead to the development of armor and of techniques that defeat the cut all but completely in combat. An opponent apt at parrying or blocking, could be a most infuriating adversary to one whose weapon cannot make an effective thrust. Also, weapons such as arrows and bullets capitalize on the thrusting principle to a very extreme degree. A projectile is merely the tip of the sword, puncturing at high velocity any material that might yield to its passage. In this way, the arrowhead or the bullet is essentially the same as the sharpened point of a well-placed thrust. This is significant, because it is the lethality of the thrust that brought about the creation of such weapons as those we know today.
A careful study of the body reveals two essential systems that are at work in combat; essential systems that are targets within an adversary. As I may have mentioned in the past, each system offers its support to your body in a different way, and adversely affecting either system has its own negative results.
These are the mechanical system and the hydraulic system. Most simply, the cuts can cause damage to the mechanical system more easily because they can produce massive damage across a wide, but shallower area; while the thrust can often bypass the mechanical (muscular) levels of the anatomy to puncture or upset the hydraulics. In either case, damage is done, but it is the immediate result of the damage that is important in combat.
Were I to cut through a biceps, the arm could no longer bend at the elbow under its own power – but the rest of the body is essentially able to live indefinitely, despite this loss of mobility. This is a disabling maneuver and is the definition of a cutting attack.
However, were I to puncture the heart or liver, the opponent would surely die, and probably quite rapidly. This guarantees victory, whereas the disabling tactic might only buy a moment during the heat of battle.
To correlate, I could make a cut across the torso in an attempt to cause damage to the heart or liver, but the amount of force necessary to reach such organs by cutting through flesh and bone (in a single, calculated blow) would probably exceed my capacity. It is rare that a warrior has ever been documented to kill an opponent by literally cutting him in half – conversely, history is full of lethal stabs; so much so that an entire breed of swords was created that were only used for thrusting. These were quite dangerous, even though they had little or no edge at all.
To elaborate any further on this profound concept one could imagine the opponent as one of those long-armed digging machines so common in the industrialized world. To defeat it, one must stop the arm. The arm is steel and hydraulics run by a pump that is supported by the engine, which in turn is supported by fuel. Let us consider our weapon to be capable of penetrating these materials as a sword would counter flesh. One with great strength might be able to cut off the arm, or sever essential hydraulic lines by cutting. The thrust would have lesser effect on the arm, and greater accuracy would be required to puncture a line. But with the thrust, one might easily puncture the pump or compromise the engine – or one might puncture the fuel or hydraulic fluid reservoirs. Although cutting might be similarly effective at damaging the internal components, it is unlikely that one might do this with the same ease with which one might ‘stab’ through them.
This brings us to the prevalence of the thrust in Western culture. During the period following ‘medieval’ times, people of substance found themselves walking violent streets while still seeing the need to dress and act respectably. One could not expect a nobleman to stroll his domain in a full suit of armor bearing a ‘broadsword’ as he would at war. So, techniques from arming swords and other penetrating battlefield weapons were refined to accommodate a very light, elegant weapon that could be carried at the side of a man not wishing to appear to the world as an ‘armed’ brigand.
Many of these techniques originally included shallow cuts, parrying slashes, and nips at the head and neck – but many were phased from popularity as the swords were increasingly tailored to suit the less-exercised ‘gentleman’ of the time. These thrusting swords eventually evolved into the small-swords and foils with which we are most familiar today – weapons with no edge at all, but a devilishly effective point and a blade geometry tailor made for accurate penetration.
It is important to understand the role of the thrust in order to gain an adequate grasp of tactical swordsmanship, because it is a necessary part of any training one might hope to pursue. Though the thrust requires strength, its driving principle is accuracy. While the cut, though requiring accuracy, is an exercise of strength.
One must consider this thoroughly.