Machiavelli and the context in which he
wrote The Prince
In the sixteenth century, when Niccolo
Machiavelli wrote The Prince, Italy was not a unified country. Instead, it was a collection of city-states,
each with its own court and ruler, each attempting to gain power over the
others. In addition to being a place of
domestic intrigue, Italy was also a battleground for the power-hungry French,
the Spanish, the Germans, and the forces of the Catholic Church under the Popes
(who were, in essence, as powerful as secular kings at this time). One of the major Italian city-states, the
republic of Florence, had long maintained an alliance with the French, and when
Pope Julius II defeated the French in 1512,
Florence was defeated too. Pope
Julius declared that he would not agree make peace unless Florence ceased to be
a republic and accepted the Medici family as their rulers.
These political developments had a
serious impact on the life and career of Machiavelli. Hardly a dyed-in-the-wool supporter of
princes, Machiavelli had actually served for the past thirteen years as a
counselor and diplomat for the former rulers of Florence, the anti-Medici
republicans (his first book, The Discourses, presents a theory of republican
government).
When Florence fell into the hands of
his princely enemies, Machiavelli narrowly escaped execution and found himself
exiled instead. Formerly a man who lived
in the center of political power, Machiavelli was now unemployed and disgraced
(not to mention bored!) in the countryside outside Florence. He began to write a series of letters,
begging the new Medici rulers in Florence to allow him to return to his beloved
city. He continued this unsuccessful
effort for fourteen years, until his death in 1527.
We must read The Prince, written in
1513, as one of the first of the documents that Machiavelli wrote in order to ingratiate himself with the new Florentine
prince, Lorenzo de Medici. Is
Machiavelli insincere? Is he a
hypocrite? After all, his first book declared
that a republic was the ideal form of government, not a state governed by the
authority of a prince. And yet, we must
note that Machiavelli never says anywhere in The Prince that he likes the
notion of government by princes. He
merely states that if a country is going to be governed by a prince,
particularly a new prince, he has some advice as to how that prince should rule
if he wishes to be great and powerful.
In other words,
Machiavelli’s book is absolutely
practical and not at all idealistic.
Leaving aside what government is “best” in an ideal world, The Prince
takes for granted the presence of an authoritarian ruler, and tries to imagine
how such a ruler might achieve success.
It is, of course, also entirely topical as well: Machiavelli offers Lorenzo an expert handbook
that deals with precisely the situation of Florence at the time. He seems genuinely interested in using his
political experience, as well as his wide reading in history and philosophy, to
help Lorenzo be the best prince he can be.
But he also obviously expected some personal gain from the book as well
– Machiavelli clearly hoped that Lorenzo
would find The Prince so helpful that he would immediately bring its author
back to Florence where he could be a political counselor once again!
Unfortunately, Machiavelli’s cunning plan
didn’t work. Despite the lavish praise
for Medicis and Popes that continues throughout The Prince, Lorenzo did not
seem to like the book very much, and certainly never called Machiavelli back
from exile. Ironically, shortly before
Machiavelli died, Charles V of France defeated the Pope and removed the Medicis
from power. Florence became a republic
once again, and Machiavelli surely expected his long exile to end at last. There was one slight problem, however: Machiavelli had written a short book
dedicated to Prince Lorenzo de Medici, advising him on how best to acquire and
maintain power – not a very republican thing to do! And so, that very book that Machiavelli had
hoped would bring him back to Florence – The Prince – finally kept him away for
good.
Important Persons
List of Persons Mentioned in or Relevant
to Machiavelli’s Prince
Lorenzo de’Medici
Machiavelli dedicated the first printing
of The Prince to this man, duke of Urbino and ruler of Florence in 1516. He had originally dedicated the book to
Lorenzo’s uncle, Giuliano de’Medici, but Giuliano died before the book
appeared. (Confusingly, Giuliano’s
father, and Lorenzo’s grandfather, was also named Lorenzo de’Medici, and known
popularly as Lorenzo the Magnificent.)
Pope Sixtus IV
The first of three popes who figure
prominently in Machiavelli’s argument.
Sixtus, whose real name was Francesco della Rovere, was pope from
1471-1484. He led the papacy to
unprecedented wealth and power by waging wars against the Turkish Empire, and
by fomenting domestic wars within Italy.
Sixtus was responsible for commissioning the famous Sistine Chapel, with
ceilings decorated by Michelangelo, in the Vatican.
Pope Alexander VI
Originally named Rodrigo Borgia, this pope
succeeded Sixtus and led the Catholic Church from 1492-1503. Like Sixtus, Alexander increased the power of
the papacy and of the Church generally.
He notoriously used his wealth and power to advance his relatives
(particularly his numerous illegitimate children) into high offices in the
religious and political institutions of Italy.
Cesare Borgia
One of Alexander’s sons, Cesare provided
Machiavelli an ideal historical example of a crafty prince. Pope Alexander’s original plan was to send
Cesare into the church. Cesare actually
became an archbishop – at the ripe old age of 17! -- because of his father’s
influence. After several years of this,
Cesare left the “religious” life and entered the world of politics, eventually
rising to dominance by cunningly manipulating strife among the Italian
city-states.
Pope Julius II
This pope succeeded Alexander VI (after
the hiccup of an eight-week reign by another man), and ruled the Church from
1503-1513. Julius led the papacy in a
number of intimidation campaigns against Italian city-states, such as Venice
and Florence, trying to get them to join him in his war on the French. His policies were bold, but ultimately
unsuccessful. Eventually Julius’ ongoing
feud with the Borgias contributed to the utter collapse of most Italian
alliances.
Agathocles of Syracuse
Machiavelli took the story of the cruel
ruler Agathocles from the ancient historians Justin and Diodorus Siculus. Agathocles was ruler of Sicily from 361-289
BC, and his evil rise to power provided Machiavelli with an example of a man
who achieves political domination through unvirtuous action.
Points to Ponder
Machiavelli’s political allegiances were a
matter of some dispute in his own time.
After working for the Florentine republic, he attempted to gain a
political position at the court of the men who destroyed that system. He wrote a treatise on republics, The
Discourses, as well as his handbook for
single rulers, The Prince. Are there
suggestions, even within The Prince itself, that Machiavelli doesn’t actually
like princes very much? If not, should
we consider Machiavelli a hypocrite? If
so, then should the entire book be taken ironically?
From his time up until the present day,
Machiavelli has often been considered an immoral theorist, one who was prepared
to suggest that the ends always justify the means. But readers who wish to spare Machiavelli from
accusations of “immorality” cite his example of Agathocles the Syracusan as an
instance when the ends do not seem to justify the means. Since Machiavelli presents Agathocles in such
a negative light, does this suggest that there is some political behavior that
is simply unacceptable on any terms?
Does Machiavelli object to the cruelty of Agathocles on ethical
grounds? If so, does this destroy his
notion, expressed elsewhere, that there is no absolute standard for judging
political action?
The word virtu, so prevalent in The
Prince, never seems to mean the same thing twice. How many definitions for this term can you
find implied in Machiavelli’s argument?
Do any of these definitions contradict each other? Why do you think that Machiavelli placed so
much emphasis on a word which resists stable definition? What implications does the slipperiness of
this term have for his larger argument?
What is the point of writing a “how-to” that avoids making concrete recommendations?
After leaving Florence, the banished
Machiavelli wrote a letter to a friend in which he described his evening
activities alone in the countryside:
every night, apparently, he would take off his work clothes (remember,
he was living on a farm), and would put on the “royal and curial robes” he used
to wear at court. Only when he was so
splendidly attired, Machiavelli told his friend, did he feel ready to join in
the company of ancient kings and princes – in other words, to sit down and
write about them in The Prince!
Renaissance dramatists frequently used a
stock character in their plays when they needed a villain. This character, meant to exemplify the
extreme of irreligious wickedness and immorality, was called the
“machiavel.” Shakespeare’s cunning Iago
in Othello is one of his most famous machiavels; the evil Richard III goes even further,
declaring onstage that his villainy will “set the murderous Machiavel to
school.”
Machiavelli devotes a great deal of The
Prince to praising powerful popes. Rather than appreciating such flattery,
however, the Catholic Church considered Machiavelli’s book an enemy to religion
– from 1557 onwards, The Prince has been on the Catholic Church’s Index
Librorum Prohibitorum, or list of forbidden books!
Summary of the Argument
Machiavelli wrote The Prince in an attempt
to ingratiate himself with the Medici princes who had recently taken over the
government of his native city, Florence, in the early sixteenth century (see
the rather overstated flattery in the prefatory letter to Lorenzo
de’Medici). He intended this book to be
a kind of “how-to:” a short, pithy handbook for princes who have gained power
and wish to keep it. Accordingly, it
begins by dividing all governments into two kinds: republics and “principalities” (those ruled
by a “prince,” or single ruler).
Machiavelli swiftly dismisses the first kind of government as being
outside the scope of his argument. He
then goes on to subdivide the latter kind.
Principalities, he writes, are of two kinds: there are those which have been ruled by a
family for a long time, and those which are newly conquered. It is this last kind, obviously, that
concerns Machiavelli most, and he spends the rest of The Prince sketching ways
in which the “new prince” can acquire and maintain the greatest amount of
power.
Machiavelli first considers “mixed
principalities,” or new territories annexed to older ones. The new prince of such a state, he writes,
should wipe out the family of his predecessors in the, and should take care not
to change the old laws –if need be, he should live there himself, and learn the
customs of his new subjects, so they won’t consider him a “stranger.” He should also set up colonies of his own
men in the new lands, and should weaken any strong neighboring enemies so that
he will have no rival conquerors. In all
things, Machiavelli writes (as he does many times in the book), the new prince
should not only keep an eye on present dangers, but on possible future dangers
– a good example of this is the Roman rule of new provinces.
When a new prince takes over a state
governed by an absolute ruler, the process of acquiring power is that much more
difficult. However, once such a kingdom
is conquered, it is much easier to rule, since its subjects are used to
oppression. Darius, for instance, took
over lands from Alexander the Great, and was able to rule them without fear of
revolt, since his new subjects were accustomed to having no voice in
government. Republics, by contrast, are
very easy for a new prince to conquer, but almost impossible for him to
rule. Once a new prince has gained
control over a former republic, Machiavelli implies that he really has no
choice but to destroy it entirely and rebuild it.
Machiavelli then proceeds to consider
relationship between luck and skill in the gaining and keeping of power. He introduces two key terms: fortuna, which means “luck,” “chance,”
“accident,” or “fortune,” and virtu, which means, literally, “manliness,” and
which can also be defined as “skill,” “cunning,” “power,” “ability,” or “strength.” Which is more important for a prince to have
on his side? Machiavelli suggests, over
and over, that a prince is better off relying on virtu than on fortuna. However, one of the key advantages of virtu
is that it enables a prince better to exploit and master fortuna.. He will say later that fortuna e una donna
(“fortune is a woman”) and must be dominated.
Here, though, he stresses the connections between fortuna and virtu as
necessary for successful rule. A prince
must be able to seize opportunities through skill in what Machiavelli calls a
“lucky shrewdness.”
What kind of actions should a virtuoso
(skillful) prince take? Well, he avoids
using other princes’ troops or hiring mercenaries to do his dirty work – such a
reliance on outside help makes a prince the helpless victim of fortune . He does not come into power through overt
crime, nor does he allow himself to gain a reputation for cruelty – but he is
able to use crime and cruelty when he needs to, carefully concealing his guilt. A virtuoso prince will not alienate the
people he governs, but he will not let the need to be loved by them take
precedence over the necessity of being feared by them. In order to maintain his power, a prince must earn the loyalty of his subjects,
and he can best do this by protecting them.
And any prince who shows himself to be strong enough to protect his
subjects must also show himself to be strong enough to be feared by them –
though, of course, never gratuitously cruel to them. Above all (and here’s where Machiavelli got
a little shocking for his Renaissance readers), a virtuoso prince must
acknowledge the fact that he does not live in an ideal world. He should therefore “learn not to be good”
when a particular occasion (fortuna again!) renders it more advantageous to be
bad. In subsequent chapters, Machiavelli describes how a prince can break
promises, commit crimes, and generally behave nastily for political
advantage. But he also insists that a
prince should learn to avoid the hatred that would result from exposure of his
bad behavior. He should instead
cultivate a reputation for “goodness,” even if that reputation is false. In other words, for Machiavelli’s prince,
it’s better to look good than to be good.
According to Machiavelli, a prince learns
such virtu by particular kinds of study:
first, and most importantly, the study of warfare. He should spend lots of time strategizing,
exercising, and preparing himself for battle.
Such training makes a man more
likely to achieve power through conquest, and less likely to succumb to laziness
once he achieves it. In addition, any
prince who wishes to be powerful should also study histories of successful
princes, in order to understand what has worked for men in the past and model
his behavior on them. In a sense, The
Prince itself is a kind of history book, compiling short examples of good (and
bad) rulers throughout history for the edification of its princely
readers.
Prefatory Letter
Prefatory Letter to Lorenzo the
Magnificent
Machiavelli begins his treatise on the
ideal Prince with a dedication to an actual prince, Lorenzo de’Medici. He
declares that courtiers who wish to earn a prince’s favor do so by presenting
the prince with items which they themselves hold particularly dear: usually
gold, jewels, horses, etc. Machiavelli tells Lorenzo that, after racking his
brain for an appropriately valuable gift, he decided that what he felt was most
precious was his knowledge of great men, knowledge gained from history books,
as well as from current events. He will present Lorenzo with this knowledge, in
the form of the treatise to follow. Machiavelli claims to worry a bit about
whether Lorenzo will be pleased with such a gift, but then reminds himself that
any prince would be glad to receive, in short handbook form, knowledge which
the author has taken years to acquire. Machiavelli promises that his will be a
“small volume,” written not in pretentious academic language, but in the common
language of men. He then excuses himself for having presumed to write about
princes at all, since he is simply an ordinary man; furthermore Machiavelli
actually suggests that being a commoner is actually an advantage to one who
wishes to write about princes, since that distance of rank gives the commoner a
perspective that princes themselves lack. Machiavelli, then, is an outsider
looking in – offering deliberately common-sense explanations for how particular
men are able to become and to remain great. Lest we forget, though, that the
Prince was intended as a gift to earn Lorenzo’s favor, this preface concludes with
a specific, pointed request: if his noble recipient likes the gift of this
book, Machiavelli gently suggests, then he might best show his appreciation by
helping the author return to court from his current position of exile and
disgrace. Rather than considering this simply a work of political theory
written for its own sake, we should realize that the suffering Machiavelli had
some very practical reasons for writing this book and dedicating it to
Lorenzo!
Chapters 1 and 2
Chapter I: The Various Kinds of
Government, and the Ways By Which They Are Established.
Machiavelli begins The Prince with a
crucial distinction of political categories. There are, he writes, only two
ways in which a state can be organized: as a republic, or as a monarchy. After
making this distinction, Machiavelli immediately, without a pause or comment,
simply drops the discussion of the “republic.” This doesn’t mean that
Machiavelli doesn’t like republics -- republics, after all, are the subject of
his other major work of political theory, The Discourses. Rather than accuse
Machiavelli of anti-democratic bias, we should note that in this particular
book, which meant to describe the proper conduct of a prince, any discussion of
princeless republics would be entirely irrelevant. After bracketing the idea of
a republic, then, Machiavelli moves on to divide the category of “monarchy”
into further sub-categories. Monarchies, he writes, can be either hereditary
and governed by the same family for generations, or recently founded. Again, Machiavelli
follows one division with another. Leaving aside hereditary monarchies for the
moment, he distinguishes two different kinds of recently founded monarchies –
those which are entirely new, and those which are new annexations of territory
added onto pre-existing hereditary monarchies. As we might expect, within this
latter category (the annexed state), there are also two subcategories:
Machiavelli points out that some annexed states were previously subject to
another ruler, and some were formerly free. And finally, there is yet another
kind of subcategory within annexed states: those which were conquered by a
prince in war, and those which simply fall to him through luck or skill.
Chapter II: Of Hereditary Monarchies
This chapter begins with Machiavelli’s
apology for not discussing republics in this book – in what seems to be an
explicit reference to Discourses, Machiavelli notes that he has “treated of
them fully in another place.” After making that disclaimer, he moves ahead with
his discussion of how the various kinds of monarchies are best governed and
maintained. He starts off with the hereditary monarchy. This kind is pretty
easy to handle, according to Machiavelli, because political circumstances in
such a monarchy have been relatively stable for a long period of time, and
subjects are used to the way things are under a ruling family. All a prince has
to do, if he inherits his state, is not to change anything too violently. Even
if some “exceptional and excessive” force were to disempower the hereditary
monarch, the countervailing force of political habit would soon restore him to
power at the slightest opportunity. Machiavelli gives the example of the Duke
of Ferrara, who was able to withstand attacks by Venice and Rome simply because
he was part of a long-standing family of Dukes. Unless such a ruler goes out of
his way to alienate his people, they will usually love and honor him as a part
of their own traditional way of life
Chapter 3
Chapter III: Of Mixed Monarchies
Problems arise, as you might imagine, in
non-hereditary or “new” monarchies, governments in which habit, or political
inertia, cannot be counted on to give stability. Take, for instance, the “mixed
monarchy,” or a state which has changed its ruler. Let’s say that a prince has
taken over a kingdom with the support of some of the people in it. Since these
people have already proven themselves critical enough to abandon their old
ruler, Machiavelli reasons, they are very likely also to grow dissatisfied with
their new one. Moreover, when a new prince takes over an existing state, he is
inevitably going to alienate those subjects who had been opposed to transition,
creating a certain amount of ill will. In other words, a new ruler, even if he
successfully takes over a state, is vulnerable to the anger of his new subjects
– his supporters as well as his opponents. An example of this is Louis XII of
France, who was able to occupy Milan, but not to keep it.
What about rulers who reconquer a
territory that has rebelled? Machiavelli feels that such situations are less
dangerous: when France, for instance, took Milan a second time, Louis was in a
much more stable position, and lost it again only when virtually the entire
world opposed his rule. Still, he did eventually lose Milan again, and for
good. Why? And how could a prince in a similar situation avoid such a double
loss? First, Machiavelli suggests that it is easier for a conqueror to maintain
control over a territory which shares his language and nationality, and which
is used to being ruled in a similar way by previous rulers. If a man, like
Louis, were to take over a land which differs from him in language,
nationality, custom, and political organization, then his rule will be
difficult. One good way for a prince to deal with this, Machiavelli counsels,
would be to take up residence in his new territory – thereby learning the ways
of his subjects, and making himself constantly aware of the current state of
their feelings toward him. Another solution would be to plant colonies of loyal
subjects from the prince’s original territory in key parts of this new land,
thereby maintaining surveillance as well as destroying the unity and potential
opposition of the newly acquired territory. Finally, the new ruler should make
himself out to be the protector of the new territory, rather its conqueror. He
should conciliate with smaller powers within, while annihilating large rival
powers that threaten from without.
The Romans followed these rules when they
conquered Greece, Machiavelli points out. They established colonies of Romans
there, they befriended the Achaeans, and they defeated Greece’s other enemies,
the Macedonians. Above all, the Romans were always able to take the long view
of their government of Greece, planning ahead to avoid difficulties. Louis, by
contrast, did none of these things, and lost Milan and his other Italian
holdings as a result. Machiavelli lists five crucial mistakes made by Louis: 1)
he crushed small powers rather than large ones, 2) he allowed one man in Italy
to gain power rather than dividing authority among lower officers, 3) he
allowed a very powerful foreigner to have influence in Italy, 4) he did not
live in Italy, and 5) he did not establish colonies there.
Chapters 4 and 5
Chapter IV: Why the Kingdom of Darius,
Occupied by Alexander, Did Not Rebel Against the Successors of the Latter After
His Death.
After discussing the almost insurmountable
difficulties in holding onto a newly-acquired state, Machiavelli asks a logical
question: How on earth did Alexander the Great not only successfully subdue
most of Asia in a few years, but pass it on to his successors without any
danger of rebellion? By way of an answer, Machiavelli first distinguishes
between two kinds of government: the rule of a prince and his servants (who
have no power independent of the prince’s permission), versus the rule of a
prince and his barons (who have their own hereditary titles, lands, and
subjects). Machiavelli gives two examples of these two kinds of government: on
the one hand, the Turkish monarchy has one ruler and many servants. On the
other, the King of France governs with the help of an ancient class of
hereditary nobles. He concludes that, obviously, the prince in the first kind
of government has much more power located in himself – and it would be much
harder to take power away the Turk than it would be to oust the King of France.
In Turkey, there would be no possibility of using the nobles to assist a
rebellion, and intrigue would have to be abandoned in favor of sheer military
force. However, though it would be harder to take the Turkish kingdom away, it
would actually be much easier to maintain – once a new prince was in, he’d be
pretty much invulnerable since there would be no rivals to power, and no need
to share authority with petty nobility. By contrast, it would be much easier to
dethrone the King of France, but much harder to maintain this new monarchy
unless one had the unwavering assistance of the nobility – not a sure thing to
rely upon!
Having set up this framework, Machiavelli
concludes that Alexander’s conquering of Persia fell into the former category.
Like the Turk, Darius maintained absolute control over his kingdom. Once
Alexander had completed his conquest of that kingdom, there was virtually no way
he, or his successors, could be dislodged.
Chapter V: The Way to Govern Cities or
Dominions That, Previous to Being Occupied, Lived under Their Own Laws.
What if the people of a conquered
territory had no king previously? What if they are used to political liberty
and government under their own laws? In other words, what if a prince wishes to
annex a republic? There are three ways, Machiavelli argues, to govern a
newly-conquered republic. First, by utterly destroying it. Second, by going
there to live. Third, by allowing the pre-existing laws to continue, and
creating allies among those citizens who had been governing. Turning to
examples, Machiavelli contrasts the Spartans and the Romans. The Spartans
governed Athens in the third way, allowing their laws to exist and attempting
to rule through them. The Romans, by contrast, took the first option, and
utterly devastated Carthage in order to control it. Machiavelli points out that
the Spartan conquest was a miserable failure, while the Romans did not lose their
territory. He concludes that the only way successfully to subdue a newly
conquered republic is to destroy it first. Republics, he argues, because they
are used to freedom, will never simply lie back and be ruled by a prince. If a
prince wishes to govern, then, he must do it by force. (It is this kind of
argument that gives Machiavelli a reputation for ruthlessness!)
Chapter 6
Chapter VI: Of New Dominions Which Have
Been Acquired by One’s Own Arms and Ability
Machiavelli asks his reader to forgive his
frequent use of examples from history – in matters of politics, he asserts, men
usually follow the examples of earlier men, whether they realize it or not. The
key, then, is to learn from precedent, imitating successful examples while
avoiding unsuccessful ones. If a prince attempts to follow examples that are
“excellent,” Machiavelli reasons, even if he fails he will certainly achieve
some tinge of greatness.
After discussing the need to aspire to
greatness, Machiavelli suggests that men who achieve dominion over states
through skill and ability (the famous Machiavellian concept of virtù, meaning
literally something like “manliness” and not to be confused with “virtue”) have
a greater chance of successfully governing than do men who simply luck into their
power (relying on fortuna, which is the opposite of virtù) . Those who rely on
fortuna the least, he argues, tend to govern best – examples of this are Moses
in Israel, Cyrus in Persia, Romulus in Rome, and Theseus in Athens. These men
did not simply rely on fortune. Instead, they used fortune to find
opportunities to come to power (this notion of using fortune rather than
accepting fate passively is key to Machiavelli). For instance, Moses had the
fortune of finding the Israelites enslaved by Egypt. Because they were
oppressed, they were easily persuaded to follow him as he led them out of
servitude. Cyrus had the fortune of finding the Persians discontented with the
government of the Medes, and had the additional fortune of finding the Medes
weakened through laziness. Given these circumstances, he was able to intervene
and become the new, powerful ruler of Persia.
All of these men – Moses, Theseus,
Romulus, and Cyrus – had difficulty obtaining their kingdoms, but were able to
maintain them easily. Why? Because, Machiavelli says, they were innovators.
Innovators establish an entirely new order of things, establishing laws,
customs and ways of governing. Because they wish to make so many changes, they
are inevitably feared and mistrusted at first. . . but once they succeed in
their plans, they have made themselves entirely secure. To achieve this
success, a would-be innovator must have not only a powerful vision, but also
the practical ability to compel obedience to his new order – this is
Machiavelli’s figure of the “armed prophet.”
Chapter 7
Chapter VII: Of New Dominions Acquired by
the Power of Others or by Fortune
Machiavelli here returns to the stated
aims of his book: to describe how a prince may best both acquire and maintain
power. The “armed prophet,” as we remember, will have incredible difficulty
acquiring power, but once he has it, will be able to maintain it easily. By
contrast, the ruler who comes to power through the efforts of others (i.e. by
buying or bribing one’s way into office), or the ruler who gets his position
through sheer fortune, or luck, has a very easy time acquiring power – but will
find it almost impossible to maintain.
This latter way of coming to power results
in a state with very shallow roots, and usually means that the new prince has
no native ability as a ruler.
Machiavelli introduces two of his most
famous examples in order to make this contrast vivid: Francesco Sforza and
Cesare Borgia. Francesco came to power in Milan “by appropriate means and
through great abilities.” He achieved power after many difficulties, but stayed
there easily. By contrast, Cesare Borgia became Duke because of the influence
of his father, Pope Alexander VI (apparently, vows of celibacy were not really
taken very seriously back then!). No political stability could be built on such
a flimsy foundation; once his father was out of the picture, Cesare could not
stay in power, as much as he tried to do so.
You would think that the introduction of
the example of Cesare Borgia would be meant purely negatively; after all, he is
supposed to be an example of how not to become prince. And yet, Machiavelli
goes into great detail describing both Alexander VI’s actions in achieving
power for his son and Cesare’s own efforts to govern, not in order to condemn
these but to suggest that they are often admirable. For instance, Machiavelli
describes the incredible political savvy of Alexander as he plotted the future
success of his son by creating and manipulating political intrigue and unrest
in Italy. One of his most ingenious moves (and one of the most famous passages
in The Prince ) concerned the government of the Romagna province. Alexander
knew that weak government had allowed all manner of crime and violence to
flourish there, and knew that it needed cleaning up so that he could govern it
more easily. He appointed a harsh deputy governor, Remirro de Orco, to punish
criminals and crack down on law-breakers of all kinds. Remirro did his work
well. Alexander, however, knew that his deputy’s harsh measures were both
necessary and hated by the people (no one likes a cruel enforcer of the laws).
So, after Remirro had successfully wiped out most of the crime in the Romagna,
Alexander “had him cut in half, and placed one morning in the public square. .
. with a piece of wood and a blood-stained knife by his side.” In other words,
Alexander used Remirro to take care of his dirty work, then earned the “thanks”
of the people by executing him. Suddenly, Romagna was both free of crime, and
well-disposed toward Alexander’s rule.
After Pope Alexander died, Cesare his son
took over – and Machiavelli has just told us that such a manner of achieving
power is not to be desired. However, Machiavelli asserts that the only thing
that prevented Cesare from successfully governing was his poor health and his
bad choice of pope, and tells us that he should be in “imitated” in most of his
actions. This is not the contradiction it seems, though. Machiavelli is, after
all, offering a handbook for all kinds of princes. While he acknowledges that
coming to power in the way the Cesare did is not desirable, nevertheless Cesare
is an example of the best a prince can do, given such circumstances.
Chapter 8
Chapter VIII: Of Those Who Have Attained
the Position of Prince by Villainy
We have so far been presented with
discussions of princes who have come into power by skill (virtù) and by luck
(fortuna). There are, however, other ways of gaining power. Machiavelli moves
on to discuss princes who come into power through villainy on the one hand, or
through election by fellow citizens on the other. Leaving aside election for
the moment, Machiavelli gives examples of power gained through villainy. He
declares that he will not discuss the “merits” of this method – and while
Machiavelli explicitly omits any praise of villainy, what many readers find
shocking is his equal refusal to condemn villainy. Instead, he simply notes
that some men will find themselves “obliged” to use such tactics – a
tremendously practical, and deeply amoral, vision of politics!
So, the examples. The first, from ancient
history, is that of Agathocles the Sicilian, who became King of Syracuse
although he was born the son of a potter (you can’t really get much commoner
than that!). From his earliest childhood, Agathocles demonstrated a wickedness
matched only by his vigor of body and mind. He joined the militia, rose through
the ranks, and one day decided he wanted to be prince. One day, he called a
meeting of the Syracusan senate. Once all the people were assembled, he gave a
signal to his soldiers, who instantly killed all the senators and rich men of
the state. From that point on, Agathocles ruled without any serious threat to his
power. A success story? In terms of power, yes – but Machiavelli refuses to
call Agathocles’ behavior virtù. This is not because Agathocles was a bad guy –
after all, virtù has nothing at all to do with Christian “virtue.” Rather,
Agathocles did not act with virtù because his actions brought him greatness
(grandezza), but not glory (gloria) which is the main goal of acting with
virtù. While Agathocles achieved political power, he did not achieve renown as
a ruler, and so cannot be termed an exemplary prince.
The second example Machiavelli offers
comes from recent Italian history. Oliverotto da Fermo was an orphan in the
reign of Pope Alexander VI. He was sent by his uncle to a military school, and
eventually became a leading soldier. Like Agathocles, however, Oliverotto
decided he didn’t wish to serve, but to command. He and his allies decided to take
over Fermo. He wrote to his uncle, telling him that he wished to visit. When he
arrived in Fermo, his uncle greeted him with much fanfare. Oliverotto invited
the important men of the town to a feast, and entertained them with stories of
Alexander and his son Cesare Borgia. Mid-conversation, however, Oliverotto
pulled an Agathocles – his soldiers rushed out of hiding and killed all the
guests. Oliverotto then besieged the town, killed the magistrates, and seized
power. He would have maintained it, too, were it not for the superior political
skill of Cesare Borgia himself – who eventually had Oliverotto executed.
How, Machiavelli asks, were such villains
able to hold power so successfully? The answer, he suggests, lies in whether
they exploited their crimes well or badly. A good cruelty is done all at once,
and ends – no need for more supplementary crimes. A bad cruelty sets in motion
a need to repeat crimes, and makes ruling a rather messy business. Note, again,
that Machiavelli’s grounds for praising government has nothing to do with
“morality” – and only to do with what seems to work most efficiently. It’s not
that you shouldn’t commit crimes, but rather that you should commit them well.
Chapters 9 and 10
Chapter IX: Of the Civic Principality
Now we turn to the other alternative to
the virtù/fortuna method of achieving power: election in a civic principality
by which a private citizen is made leader by his fellow citizens. Machiavelli
describes this method as a kind of “cunning assisted by fortune,” since such a
leader is skilled enough to make himself an appealing candidate, and then
simply lifted up by others to a position of power. There are two ways (as
usual) by which a man can be thus elected: by the nobles who wish the prince to
oppress the people, or by the people, who wish the prince to help them avoid
oppression by the nobles. According to Machiavelli, it is better for a man to
be put into power by the populace, since this usually means that he will have
no rivals to his power and will be generally loved by his subjects. If he is
elected by the nobles, he is obligated to them, and will often be the victim of
their intrigues. (See Chapter IV for a similar idea). Regardless of how a
prince is elected, Machiavelli argues, it is indispensable for him to have the
good will of the people – the good will of the nobles is much less essential.
And in order to have the good will of the people, it is necessary that the
prince make himself indispensable to them. In other words, here Machiavelli
gives a theory of interdependence between the people and the prince that
differs dramatically from the model of cruel exploitation often attributed to
him.
Chapter X: How the Strength of All States
Should be Measured
This chapter points out a different
distinction between kinds of principalities (states governed by a prince):
there are those that have the money and manpower to defend themselves against
attack, and those that do not, consequently needing to hide within their walls
when they are assaulted by an enemy. Machiavelli does not feel the need to
discuss the former case, which is obviously to be preferred. If a prince finds
himself in the latter case (without the power to fight back against enemies),
Machiavelli counsels him to concentrate his efforts on fortifying his own town,
and to forget about the outlying country, which will be too difficult to
protect. The cities of Germany, for instance, follow this strategy – and as a
consequence are rarely attacked, since it would be hard for any enemy to get
past the urban fortifications. Machiavelli concludes by affirming that strong
walls around the city, and the good will of the people within the city, are the
two best protections a prince can have. If a prince has both these things, it
is almost guaranteed that no enemy will be able to prevail against him.
Chapters 11 and 12
Chapter XI: Of Ecclesiastical
Principalities
At the time when Machiavelli wrote The
Prince, Italy did not simply have dukedoms and kingdoms and cities, but also
had territories governed by the Pope and Catholic Church, or “ecclesiastical
principalities.” This chapter considers some of the difficulties of conquering
and ruling such territories. Machiavelli argues that a prince can gain power
over an ecclesiastical principality either by ability (virtù) or chance
(fortuna), but he will be able to maintain it by means of neither of these.
This is because the subjects of such principalities are used to obeying ancient
religious customs, rather than ordinary political customs or laws. Such
religious customs are so incredibly powerful that princes don’t really need to
do anything at all to keep their subjects in line. Nor does a prince need to do
anything to defend such a kingdom, because no one will attack a holy state. In
other words, ecclesiastical principalities are the only truly secure states for
a prince to govern, according to Machiavelli. As soon as he says this, however,
he cuts himself off – since these states are “maintained and exalted by God,”
he says, “it would be the work of a presumptuous and foolish man to discuss
them.”
Machiavelli does allow himself some space
to discuss how the church came to possess any temporal (political) power in the
first place. How was the Pope able to gain such great authority in
non-religious matters like government? Machiavelli explains that a long time
ago, power in Italy was divided among many potentates (princes and lords), and
one of them was the Pope, who controlled the Vatican City in Rome. As long as
there were many of these potentates, no single one of them was able to have any
greater power than any other. When Alexander VI became Pope, however, things
changed; as we have seen (in Chapter V), Alexander was a supreme politician,
and was able to manipulate both domestic politics and foreign policy in such a
way that his own political power increased, along with that of his son, Cesare
Borgia. Alexander was followed by Julius, who increased papal wealth and
territories. Machiavelli ends this chapter by praising the current pope, Leo X,
suggesting that since his predecessors had increased the power and wealth of
the papal office, Leo might be able to add “goodness” so that the office of the
pope will be “both great and venerated.” In other words, Machiavelli describes
the power of the Pope without ever assuming that he is, as the servant of God,
necessarily a holy and good man – another way in which The Prince might seem
remarkably controversial to religious readers!
Chapter XII: The Different Kinds of
Militia and Mercenary Soldiers
After discussing how various states are
best acquired and maintained, Machiavelli moves on to consider methods of
government. He declares that in all governments, of whatever kind, the best
foundation is a combination of good laws and good arms – i.e. political and
military strength. Machiavelli further asserts that the latter necessitates the
former. There cannot be good laws where there are not good arms, and once there
are good arms, there will inevitably be good laws. After making this claim, he
drops the discussion of laws, and spends the rest of this chapter discussing
military matters.
There are three kinds of armies a prince
can maintain: an army made up of citizens, an army of mercenaries (paid
soldiers), or a mixed army. Mercenaries, Machiavelli argues, are worthless and
dangerous, impossible to rely on. This is because they have no love or loyalty
to the prince, but are simply paid to fight for him and are therefore ready to
turn against the prince if anyone pays them more. Indeed, Machiavelli points
out that Italy’s current political ruin has resulted largely from the fact that
mercenary armies have been used there for many years. A better idea would be
for a prince to be captain of his own soldiers, and in the case of a republic
for citizens to lead the armies themselves.
Chapters 13 and 14
Chapter XIII: Of Auxiliary, Mixed and
Native Troops
Machiavelli declares that “auxiliary
troops,” or armies borrowed from another prince, are as useless as mercenaries.
In fact, auxiliaries are even worse than mercenaries. Mercenaries, as we recall
from the previous chapter, are hard to motivate – a paycheck is not enough to
make a man willing to fight and die for a prince they care nothing about. In
the case of auxiliaries, they are actually loyal to someone else – and so, even
if they win the battle, they may hand the victory over to their actual leader
instead of the prince who has borrowed them. As Machiavelli cleverly puts it,
the danger with mercenaries is their cowardice, while the danger with
auxiliaries is their courage. It is always better to fight with your own men –
Cesare Borgia, for instance, used a small troop of his own men rather than a
larger auxiliary army. . . and was victorious!
Chapter XIV: The Duties of a Prince with
Regard to the Militia
In a rather bold piece of advice,
Machiavelli counsels the prince to “have no other aim or thought” than the
proper conduct of war, and to study nothing else besides military matters. The
best way to gain and maintain power is through this knowledge, he claims, and
without it a prince is sure to lose whatever he has. Again, Machiavelli brings
up Francesco Sforza (see Chapter ). Francesco became Duke of Milan because he
was well armed, but his sons saw no need to study warfare, and soon lost their
power. Machiavelli argues that no unarmed prince can ever be safe, because no
armed man ever obeys an unarmed one. Thus, an un-military prince will always
fail to have the support of his soldiers, his soldiers will then fail to
protect him, and soon he will be prince no longer.
For this reason, a prince must practice
the arts of war even more seriously in peace-time. Machiavelli describes the
kind of training he has in mind: a prince should hunt, he should become as
physically fit as possible, he should learn every detail of the landscape (so that
he can draw up battle plans better), and he should study military histories,
particularly of great commanders (Alexander the Great read about Achilles,
Caesar read about Alexander, Scipio Africanus read about Cyrus).
Chapters 15 and 16
Chapter XV: Of the Things for Which Men,
and Especially Princes, are Praised or Blamed
Machiavelli begins this very notorious
chapter by acknowledging that what he is about to write might surprise, and
even offend people. However, he continues, it is better to give advice based on
what the world is actually like, and the way that politics actually works, than
to give idealized advice based only on what sounds nice. In a well-known
passage, Machiavelli declares that the man who “abandons what is done for what
ought to be done, will rather learn to bring about his own ruin than his
preservation.” Here, Machiavelli admits that he is a political realist, and
finds conventional standards of morality useless as practical advice. Since so
many people fail to act according to these standards in reality, he argues,
continuing to be “good” can only weaken a ruler. Instead, he writes, “it is
necessary for a prince. . . to learn how not to be good” according to the
circumstances.
He then lists a number of the qualities
that can bring a prince praise (liberality, mercy, trustworthiness, wisdom,
etc.), or blame (viciousness, greed, cruelty, lust, atheism, etc.). Obviously,
he writes, it is better for a prince to be praised than blamed, and a prince
would be loved completely by all his citizens if he actually possessed all of
those praiseworthy qualities. However, he writes, let’s get real: no prince
will have every good quality, and most princes will have at least a few of
those bad ones. The key, then, is that the prince should hide from the people
those vices that he may have, and to make sure that he seems to have as many
virtues as possible.
Chapter XVI: Of Liberality and
Niggardliness
Of course, always eager to shock,
Machiavelli points out that quite a few of those so-called “virtues” would be
politically disastrous, while many of the “vices” would actually benefit the
state – and if committing a “vice” is ever necessary for the safety of the
state, the prince should commit it without shame. Machiavelli examines more
carefully one of his oppositions of virtue and vice: liberality (free giving)
and niggardliness (unwillingness to give, or miserliness). Every prince would
love to be considered liberal – but if a prince were really to give up his
possessions freely, he would quickly ruin himself. In fact, the more liberal a
prince is, the poorer he will inevitably become – and then he’ll have to tax
his citizens, making them hate him in the end anyway. Better, Machiavelli
writes, for a prince to be considered a miser for a while, so that he will be
able to govern better and give his subjects more in the long term. The best
case scenario, however, is for a prince to be miserly with his own kingdom’s
wealth, but free and lavish with the money he steals from other countries in
wartime. That way, he can have the reputation for generosity without breaking
the bank! If a prince doesn’t have that last option, though, Machiavelli
advises him to give up the ideal of “liberality” in the interest of
practicality. The people will understand.
Chapters 17 and 18
Chapter XVII: Of Cruelty and Clemency, and
Whether it is Better to be Loved or Feared
Every prince, Machiavelli points out,
would rather be considered merciful than cruel. However, cruelty can have its
advantages: Cesare Borgia, after all, committed numerous cruelties – but the
end result was a united and strong principality. Machiavelli concludes that
what seemed like Cesare’s “cruelty” was, in fact, actually his “clemency”
(mercifulness), since by that cruelty he spared his people the worse fate of
political turmoil. A prince who cruelly punishes is not cruel if these
punishments help to create political stability; a prince who is merciful is not
really merciful if he allows disorders and crime to flourish, injuring
everyone.
What about the difference between being
feared and being loved? Obviously, every prince would prefer to be loved than
to be feared. Taking the realistic view, Machiavelli says that it is best to be
both feared and loved, but the two do not often coincide. If one had to choose,
he argues, it is better and safer to be feared than to be loved. If a prince is
feared, he is much less likely to have his subjects revolt; Machiavelli is not
afraid to say that men are generally selfish, and will not hesitate to break
the obligations of love when it is to their advantage. Fear, however, keeps
people in check. It certainly also possible for a prince to be feared and not
hated, Machiavelli also points out, particularly when the prince uses his power
to protect his citizens and does not interfere too often in their lives. Since
love is too insecure a foundation for government, this fear without hatred is
the best a prince can hope to have from his citizens.
Chapter XVIII: In What Way Princes Must
Keep Faith
Like the previous two chapters, this one
begins with a platitude: it is good for princes to keep their word. Again,
though, Machiavelli writes this commonplace down only to question it. Yes,
obviously a prince should not lie or act hypocritically and should also live
with integrity. However, it is also the case that many princes who have not
kept their word have accomplished great things, and have even conquered other
princes who have kept their word faithfully.
Machiavelli points out that there are two
kinds of fighting: according to the law and according to force. The former is
the way of men, the second the way of beasts – but the best princes know how to
use both the man and the beast in order to achieve political goals. The prince,
he writes, should be able to imitate the cunning fox and the mighty lion – able
to defend himself against attack, but also sneak around traps. If a prince is
to be fox-like, he must not be afraid to break his promises when keeping them
would be harmful to him. Machiavelli knows that this advice doesn’t sound too
noble – but, he says in his own defense, men are not all good. If they were, it
would always be best to keep one’s word. Since they aren’t, it is sometimes
necessary to lie and cheat – because otherwise, you’ll be tricked yourself. It
is not only a good idea to cheat and lie like the fox, but it is also crucial
that the prince be able to disguise the fact that he is doing so. Men are
easily deceived, Machiavelli writes, and gives the example of our friend Pope
Alexander VI: he was so willing to break his promises when he needed to, that
he was the most outspoken promiser there ever was. He had a reputation for
making promises, and always took care so that he wasn’t caught breaking them.
This chapter ends with one of the most
striking passages of political realism in the entire book: Machiavelli claims
that a prince should always seem to have virtues, even if he doesn’t actually
have them. Moreover, he asserts that seeming to have virtues is actually better
than really having them, since a prince is therefore not tied by the bonds of
morality. If he does not feel any constraint of “virtue,” a prince is better
able do what he needs to do in any given situation. He must, Machiavelli
writes, have a mind “disposed to adapt itself according to the wind,” able to
do good when he can but also do evil when he must. Still, even though on the
inside he is able to scheme, he should be “mercy, faith, integrity, humanity,
and religion” on the outside.
Chapters 19 and 20
Chapter XIX: That We Must Avoid Being
Despised and Hated
A prince should above all avoid being
hated, Machiavelli repeats. He can guard himself against the hatred of his
citizens by never seeming frivolous, changeable, or shallow, and instead
seeming to follow certain unwavering principles of upright morality (exactly
what Machiavelli warned the prince not to do in the previous chapter!). By
behaving in this way, a prince will avoid the greatest political danger: revolt
from within. Machiavelli argues that conspiracy and internal unrest is much
more dangerous to a prince than attacks from external enemies. If a prince does
not take care to avoid the hatred of his citizens, then, he will live in a
state of constant fear. In contrast, if a prince manages not to be hated, he
can count on the goodwill of the citizens and ensure political stability.
Machiavelli offers the example of France,
where the parliament acts as a buffer between the king and the people, as well
as a buffer between the king and the nobles. By placing a certain amount of
power in the parliament, and by making the parliament take over many of the
most unpopular duties of rule, the king of France ensures that he never earns
the hatred of the nobles or the people himself. He then moves on to discuss the
examples of various Roman emperors -- all of whom, he claims, prove his point:
that rulers are most in danger when they are hated by the people. Machiavelli
reiterates that avoiding hatred should be a ruler’s main goal. This means, as
we have seen, avoiding the reputation for doing evil deeds (even though the
prince will need, in actuality, to do such deeds). Here, he adds another tricky
point: that sometimes doing good deeds can also result in being hated by the
people (for example, being nice to a cruel army leader who is popularly
loathed). Typically, Machiavelli has moved from what appears to be a stable,
simple “rule” – avoid being hated the people – and then qualifies and redefines
that rule so that it becomes almost impossible to understand without reference
to particular circumstances.
Chapter XX: Whether Fortresses and other
Things Which Princes Often Contrive are Useful or Injurious
Is it a good idea for a prince who comes
into power in a state to take arms away from the citizens there? Surprisingly,
Machiavelli says no. By taking arms away from the people, he reasons, a prince
will make himself look cruel and harsh, encouraging discontent among his
subject. By doing the opposite – giving arms to the people – the prince will
actually make himself safer, since the people will be grateful and more loyal.
However, as usual, there are some exceptions to this rule. When a prince adds a
new territory to his old state, he must disarm all the citizens in that annexed
territory, except those who helped him to gain power – and he must also make
sure that his own soldiers are more powerfully armed than any of his new
subjects.
Machiavelli offers some additional advice
about governing a newly-annexed territory. A prince in such a position, as we
remember, can never be entirely safe. There are, however, some ways in which he
can make himself more secure. For instance, he might try to provoke an enemy
attack intentionally – that way, by defeating the “enemy,” he can make himself
look like a great leader. He might also try to earn the friendship of those who
were his greatest opponents when he came into power (friends who used to be
enemies, he argues, are often more trustworthy than others, because they wish
to compensate for their earlier hostility). The flip side of this, of course,
is that the prince must always suspect those men who rebelled against their
previous ruler to help him gain power, since they are usually the kind of men
who will always be dissatisfied with their prince.
What about fortresses? Should a prince
build them around his state? Machiavelli begins by saying “yes,” since many
rulers in history have become strong by building strong fortresses. However, he
also points out that some rulers have actually become more powerful after
destroying their fortresses. Once again, the best strategy is to do what works
best in a particular circumstance. But as a general rule, Machiavelli argues
that princes who fear foreigners most should not have fortresses, while princes
who fear their own people most need fortresses. Doesn’t that seem backward?
What does he mean? Well, he argues that if a prince has the support of the
people, he will have no need of fortresses against the enemy, since the people
will help him fight. If the prince does not have loyal subjects, he must then
use fortresses to protect himself against attack, since he cannot rely on the
people’s help.
Chapters 21, 22, and 23
Chapter XXI: How a Prince Must Act in
Order to Gain a Reputation
This chapter begins with a seemingly
obvious point: a prince gets a reputation for greatness by doing great things.
King Ferdinand of Spain, for instance, turned himself into a famous and
powerful king by undertaking extraordinary projects: he attacked the Islamic
Moors, and by building up his military and waging a holy war, he augmented his
own power and reputation for greatness. Other rulers have given demonstrations
of greatness in their conduct of domestic politics. As a general rule,
Machiavelli advises the prince to avoid neutrality in domestic and foreign
affairs – neutrality often leads to weakness, and it is better to support one
side or the other. Nor should a prince ever join forces with another prince
more powerful than himself – such a tactic nearly always results in the more
powerful prince’s domination.
Chapter XXII: Of the Secretaries of
Princes
A prince’s reputation has a lot to do with
the character of his officers. If he has competent and fair secretaries and
ministers, he will usually be thought of as wise and good himself. How can a
prince know who to choose as a minister? Machiavelli offers a rule of thumb: if
a man is selfish and seeks his own profit above all things, he will probably
not be a good minister. Good ministers must be willing to think of the prince
first, always and in every case. This works two ways, however; the prince, if
he wishes to keep his good minister, must always be willing to give the
minister honors, riches, and other kinds of gratification. Like the prince and
his people, the prince and his ministers should exist in an ideal
interdependence, since each needs the other.
Chapter XXIII: How Flatterers Must Be
Shunned
A prince should take care to choose as
ministers men who love him above themselves – but not men who are flatterers.
The court, writes Machiavelli, is full of flatterers, and it is hard for a
prince to avoid them. One way to guard against flatterers is for the prince to
encourage all men to tell the truth without fear of giving offense – but if all
men are permitted to speak the truth to the prince, they will no longer respect
him. Better, then, for the prince to allow certain wise men in his council to
speak freely – but only these men. That way, the prince will demonstrate his
willingness to listen to men who do not flatter him, but will be in no danger
of losing the respect of the rest of his people . Moreover, the prince should
only allow people at court to give him advice when he asks them for it –
although he should ask for advice frequently.
Chapters 24, 25, and 26
Chapter XXIV: Why the Princes of Italy
Have Lost Their States
If a new prince follows all of the advice
in this book, Machiavelli claims that he will not only seem like the ancient
ruler of a state, but will actually be more secure than an ancient ruler would
have been. This is because more people have their eyes on a new prince,
expecting him to make mistakes. If a new prince is a good ruler, he will
actually impress many more people than a hereditary prince would. He will also
have what Machiavelli calls a “double glory:” the glory of founding a kingdom
and the glory of governing it well. In contrast, a prince who is born into
power and loses his state earns a “double shame.”
Why have princes (such as the King of
Naples, the Duke of Milan, etc.) lost their thrones? Either they lacked
military strength, did not have the good will of the people, or did not have a
loyal nobility. Machiavelli insists that men should never blame fortune for
their loss of power. Fortune is never an adequate explanation; princes lose
power not because they have bad luck, but because they did not have enough
skill to deal with the circumstances that fortune presented.
Chapter XXV: How Much Fortune Can Do in
Human Affairs, and How it May Be Opposed
Machiavelli ended the previous chapter by
declaring that princes must never blame “fortune” for the loss of political
power. He begins this chapter by acknowledging how many people believe in a
universal fortune that rules all things (or in an all-powerful God, a belief
which he says amounts to pretty much the same thing – once again, Machiavelli
comes close to an atheistic position!). While admitting that circumstances do
change frequently in ways that are outside human control, Machiavelli does not
see this as a reason to reject free will. Fortune, he says, rules half our
actions – and the other half is determined by our skill and ability.
After making this statement, Machiavelli
offers some metaphoric descriptions of fortune. Fortune, he says, is like a mighty
river – when it is at its fullest, no one can cross it or stop it from
flooding. When the river is calm and the water is low, however, men can do
things like build bridges and dams which will make the floods easier to deal
with. This is how we should regard fortune: although we cannot control it, we
can use our ingenuity to better handle what it brings. In terms of princes,
Machiavelli argues that it is foolish for a ruler to base his power entirely on
fortune; such a man cannot hold power once fortune changes. The man who
skillfully handles fortune, however, will prosper. This is Machiavelli’s
crucial point: the prince must be willing to adapt to fortune, altering his
behavior with skill in order to exploit circumstances. This means that an
action that is successful on one day will be unsuccessful on another day – it
all depends on the circumstances.
This is why Machiavelli is so reluctant to
give strict rules for the prince’s behavior; what matters is not following the
rules, but being willing to break them when necessary. He counsels the prince
to resist caution, since the cautious man is often reluctant to deviate from
the safe path, even when his fortune requires it. Better to act swiftly and
suddenly, according to the moment. An example of a prince who acted in this way
is Pope Julius II. Julius always succeeded in his endeavors because he always
acted quickly and boldly. By making war when others were not ready either to
assist him or to oppose him, Julius ended up extremely powerful. Had he waited
until his friends and enemies were ready to fight, Machiavelli points out,
Julius would have either lost his war, or else had to share his victory with
allies. Machiavelli concludes, in one of the most often quoted passages of the
book, that fortune is like a woman (the word fortuna, in Italian, is a feminine
noun, so this makes a little more sense in the original); if you wish to master
her, you must conquer her by force. Moreover, she is more “willing” to be
conquered by forceful men of ability than by timid cowards (remember that the
word virtù means, literally, “manliness”).
Chapter XXVI: Exhortation to Liberate
Italy from the Barbarians
Nearly all of the previous chapters have
concentrated on advising the “new prince” who has recently come into power in a
territory. This is no accident. In the final chapter of the book, Machiavelli
addresses his reader, presumably Prince Lorenzo de’ Medici, urging him to wage
war against the “barbarians” (the forces of Islam), and to reclaim Italy as his
own. Machiavelli assures Lorenzo that Italy is ready to follow a new leader, if
only one would appear who is bold enough to seize power. He tells Lorenzo to
bear in mind the examples he has just read about, and to follow the counsel
given in The Prince, so that he might acquire and maintain power in Italy.
Lorenzo should raise troops (his own men, not mercenaries or auxiliaries, of
course), and strike swiftly against the barbarian rule that “stinks in the
nostrils of every one.” In the end, The Prince has a very practical, and very
specific, goal in mind.
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