Few pre-modern writers have fascinated me as much as Niccolo Machiavelli. Living in 16th-century Italy, he was what might be called a historian/political scientist. Recently I re-read his most famous work, The Prince. Dedicated to the prince of Machiavelli’s native Florence (Lorenzo di Medici), The Prince is in many ways a basic guide to monarchical statecraft. Therein, Machiavelli submits several do’s and don’ts for the edification of his benefactor. His blunt descriptions of human nature and its implications for heads of state are off-putting to anyone who is preoccupied with the way things ought to be. Machiavelli focuses nearly all of this work strictly on how things are. The piece is full of historical examples, most taken from wars amongst France, Spain, and the Italian states.
It has become regrettably popular to lambast Machiavelli as an advocate for the cold, calculating, and self-interested. To such an extent has this view spread that his name adorns one of the three “dark” personality traits psychologists often speak of. Thus “Machiavellianism” secures a place in psychology next to narcissism and psychopathy. In my view, such enshrinement gives the author an unjust reputation which he does not deserve.
Ironic indeed, that a man identified with the cold calculations of medieval monarchs devoted much of his life to public service in the Florentine Republic. The ruling Medici family in Florence was overthrown in the 1490s, when Machiavelli was in his mid-twenties. He served on diplomatic missions and at the head of a citizen-militia of his own design. After two decades, the Medici regained power. Machiavelli was briefly jailed for his involvement with the republicans, but was released and allowed to live out a semi-retirement during which he continued to conduct minor diplomatic missions for the Medici government and wrote several works—including popular plays.
Perhaps it is emblematic of “Machiavellian” self-preservation that The Prince is dedicated to the very leader who overturned the republican government and restored Medici rule. Yet this can equally be taken as the sign of a mind which saw different forms of government as all subject to the same caprices of human nature—in which case the lines between republic and monarchy become blurred.
As such, his work must be considered both a product of his time and a discourse on understanding that time. He explicitly defines the scope of The Prince as excluding republics, “having already treated of them fully in another place.” (It should be noted that a perusal of his most well-known surviving works leaves it far from obvious where exactly this place is.) His work is not the recipe for totalitarianism that some would like to label it as. Instead, he elucidates in many ways the human nature that all statesmen must contend with in themselves and others. It may even be said that if Machiavelli does indeed advocate statesmanship based on self-preservation and interest, this is only so because he presupposes the same self-interested instincts in those around the statesman.
The work itself is divided into several short chapters, and in several ways defies a basic categorization. That said, I shall attempt to organize Machiavelli’s insights into three themes: the position of parties within a state, defense of the state, and personal conduct of the prince.
A brief note on semantics. It’s common for us to consider a prince in the sense of a “crown prince”, or a living heir to the throne of a king. I believe that Machiavelli is using the term more broadly to describe a monarchical head of state regardless of scale—likely because few of the local potentates in Italy (including the Medici) bore the title of “king” de jure.
States, and the Parties that Make Them
Machiavelli begins with a basic classification of states. “All states and dominions…are either republics or monarchies.” Yet The Prince deals exclusively with the latter. Among these, he distinguishes between “hereditary ones, in which the rulers have been for many years of the same family” and “those of recent foundation.” The hereditary monarchies possess strong incumbent advantages so long as they do not trespass the traditional limits of their own power. As Machiavelli puts it: “it is sufficient not to exceed the ancestral authority…in this way such a prince, if of ordinary ability, will always be able to maintain his position.”
Of the new monarchies, there are again two types: “either entirely new…or else…new members grafted on to the hereditary possessions of the prince that annexes them.” In either such case, “it is in the new monarchies that difficulties really exist.” Why? Simply because the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. Or, in 16th century terms: “Men change masters willingly, hoping to better themselves…this belief makes them take arms against their rulers, in which they are deceived…experience shows them that they have gone from bad to worse.” The new prince will “find enemies in all those whom you have injured…and you cannot maintain the friendship of those who have helped you to obtain this possession, as you will not be able to fulfil their expectations.” A new ruler cannot please everyone, and in many cases will please no one. How does this ring true today? Consider for a moment the frequent trend of U.S. presidents, most of whom receive a peak approval rating upon just entering office, following which their approval ratings decline.
What, then, can the prince do? “However strong your armies may be, you will always need the favour of the inhabitants to take possession of a province [emphasis mine].” There are, of course, degrees of difficulty dictated by circumstances. A state annexing a new territory with the “same nationality and language” will find it “very easy to hold”. Failing this, it may suffice to “make no alteration either in their laws or in their taxes”.
The surest way? In a province “differing in language, laws and customs”, Machiavelli recommends “for the new ruler to take up his residence in them…This would render their possession more secure and durable”. As an example, he cites Ottoman Turks’ conquest of Greece. As a low-cost alternative: “plant colonies in one or two of those places which form as it were the keys of the land.”
Digressing from the classification of monarchies by longevity, Machiavelli moves to a discussion of two forms of monarchical government: the ministerial and the baronial. Under the ministerial, “a prince and his servants, who, as ministers by his grace and permission, assist in governing the realm”, while barons “hold their positions not by favour of the ruler but by antiquity of blood.” These barons would “have states and subjects of their own”, creating distinct difficulties for any prince. It’s easy to discern the difference at issue: ministers serve at the prince’s pleasure, while barons jealously guard a stake which is their birthright. As respective examples he cites Turkey (ministerial) and France (baronial). To conquer the Ottomans would require facing “united forces”, but such a conquest would be easy to hold when complete. By contrast, to topple a baronial monarchy is easier “by winning over some baron of the kingdom, there being always some malcontents”. But such a conquest will be followed by “infinite difficulties”. Again, you cannot please everyone.
Machiavelli devotes a few chapters to the different methods by which one might find himself a prince, including “villainy”. About this, his realism is checked by conscience. “It cannot be called a virtue to kill one’s fellow-citizens, betray one’s friends, be without faith, without pity, and without religion, by which methods one may indeed gain an empire, but not glory.” Yet he accepts the need for cruelty, drawing a line between “cruelties being used well or badly”. Well-used cruelties are “committed once for the need of securing one’s self, and which afterwards are not persisted in”. Ill-used “those which, although at first few, increase rather than diminish with time”. In sum, one ought to commit injuries all at once, and let benefits accrue slowly. “The conqueror must arrange to commit all his cruelties at once, so as not to have to recur to them every day…Whoever acts otherwise…is always obliged to stand with knife in hand, and can never depend on his subjects, because they, through continually fresh injuries, are unable to depend on him.”
Another set of categories is given between the “two opposite parties”, the people at large and the aristocracy. Such parties are found “in every city” and arise from “the desire of the populace to avoid the oppression of the great, and the desire of the great to command and oppress the people.” Machiavelli saw the populace as a far surer foundation for any prince than the aristocracy: “it is impossible to satisfy the nobility by fair dealing…whereas it is very easy to satisfy the mass of the people in this way.” He goes so far as to suggest that “the prince is…obliged to live always with the same people, but he can easily do without the same nobility.”
Thus Machiavelli insists that “it is necessary for a prince to possess the friendship of the people”. Yet such a popular appeal can easily go awry if a private citizen “relies upon the people” for his own liberation from injustice. Instead, a prince must be “one who can command and is a man of courage…one who by his own courage and measures animate the mass of the people, he will not find himself deceived by them, and he will find that he has laid his foundations well.”
Defense Policy, Renaissance Style
The Prince takes a simple view of defense: it is good to have fortifications, it is better to be able to employ armies in the field. Machiavelli considers those who can “put together a sufficient army” as “capable of maintaining themselves alone”, without help from others.
Defense is no small matter. “The chief foundations of all states…are good laws and good arms…there cannot be good laws without good arms, and where there are good arms there should be good laws”. It’s worth noting that he postulates this relationship as good arms being necessary for good laws to exist, yet good laws are simply desirable given the existence of good arms.
Yet another classification: there are three sorts of soldiers, either the prince’s own, or mercenaries, or auxiliaries. The mercenaries and auxiliaries Machiavelli calls “useless and dangerous”, but for different reasons.
By mercenaries, Machiavelli is likely referring to the bands of Italian soldiers who sold their services to the highest bidder. Some of these condottieri rose to staggering fame, like Sforza (who became Duke of Milan through sheer ability). Yet in general they were an unreliable proposition for any prince. Mercenaries are “quite willing to be your soldiers so long as you do not make war, but when war comes, it is either fly or be off…Mercenary captains are either very capable men or not; if they are, you cannot rely upon them, for they will always aspire to their own greatness…but if the captain is not an able man, he will generally ruin you.”
The “other kind of useless forces” are auxiliaries, when “one calls on a [foreign] potentate to come and aid one with his troops”. Such a proposition is lose-lose: “if they lose you are defeated, and if they conquer you remain their prisoner…Any one, therefore, who wishes not to conquer, would do well to use these forces”.
In concluding the matter: “the greatest dangers with mercenaries lies in their cowardice and reluctance to fight, but with auxiliaries the danger lies in their courage. A wise prince, therefore, always avoids these forces and has recourse to his own, and would prefer rather to lose with his own men than conquer with the forces of others, not deeming it a true victory which is gained by foreign arms.” To be armed is strict necessity: “among other evils caused by being disarmed, it renders you contemptible”. And again: “when princes think more of luxury than of arms, they lose their state.”
Conduct of the Prince and Government
By now it is unsurprising that Machiavelli lays a claim to realism rather than idealism. “But my intention being to write something of use to those who understand it, it appears to me more proper to go to the real truth of the matter than to its imagination; and many have imagined republics and principalities which have never been seen or known to exist in reality; for how we live is so far removed from how we ought to live, that he who abandons what is done for what ought to be done, will rather learn to bring about his own ruin than his preservation [emphasis mine].” Any who wishes to “make a profession of goodness…must necessarily come to grief among so many who are not good.” Here, again, is Machiavelli’s warning that human nature animates those around the prince.
The same realpolitik applies to generosity. “It would be well to be considered liberal; nevertheless liberality used in such a way that you are not feared will injure you”. And, of course, his well-quoted line stating “it is much safer to be feared than loved, if one of the two has to be wanting.” Yet he goes on: “friendship which is gained by purchase and not through grandeur and nobility of spirit is merited but is not secured, and at times is not to be had.” Thus perhaps Machiavelli uses “fear” in the biblical sense of “respect” rather than a state of terror.
That this represents a fine line is clarified by his following discussion of the dangers of being despised or hated. A prince will become hated by “being rapacious and usurping the property…of his subjects,” and despised by “being thought changeable, frivolous, effeminate, timid, and irresolute”. To avoid this, a prince must be decisive: “let his sentence be irrevocable.”
He leaves us with a few final thoughts on the “secretaries” of princes, or the men surrounding the prince. Machiavelli calls this a “matter of no little importance…The first impression that one gets of a ruler and of his brains is from seeing the men that he has about him.” He describes three different calibers of mind: “the one understands things unassisted, the other understands things when shown by others, the third understands neither alone nor with the explanations of others. The first kind is most excellent, the second also excellent, but the third useless.”
Again, this must be considered with a balance between candid advisors and self-respect. “There is no other way of guarding one’s self against flattery than by letting men understand that they will not offend you by speaking the truth; but when every one can tell you the truth, you lose their respect.” The prudent course is “choosing…wise men, and giving these along full liberty to speak the truth…but only of those things that he [the prince] asks.” And yet again: “he ought to discourage absolutely attempts to advise him unless he asks it, but he ought to be a great asker, and a patient hearer of the truth”. Machiavelli sums this up thus: “It is an infallible rule that a prince who is not wise himself cannot be well-advised.”
“From the Barbarians”
Machiavelli closes his work with an “Exhortation to Liberate Italy from the Barbarians”, urging Lorenzo di Medici to conquer both for his own glory and for the glory of a perennially disunited Italy. One can read many things into such an exhortation: perhaps a mere formality of obeisance (the servile renaissance equivalent of “have a nice day”), perhaps a faint, glimmering vision of Italian nationalism. Or perhaps he saw ability of the prince as the surest form of stability for the state—in which case a prudent prince could be favorably compared with the “barbarians” who failed to practice Machiavelli’s tenets.
If this is the case, it’s certainly ironic that Machiavelli has been accused of promoting the same barbaric government that he clearly wished to avoid. Far from endorsing government encroachments on the property and lives of its people, he warns against it. Granted, his insistence on the need for a monarch to capture the favor of the people may not sound particularly impressive to modern ears full of such grandiose terms of “self-determination” and “popular sovereignty”. But Machiavelli does not represent a foil to this tradition so much as an adherent to it—albeit a far less idealistic one.
The fundamental question a larger one: whether the human tendencies Machiavelli describes are barbaric in themselves—or whether he is the barbarian for insisting on bringing them into focus.
For other book recommendations, check out this post.