Sapienza Università di Roma
Dipartimento di Filosofia
Tesi di Dottorato (ciclo XXII) – Filosofia Politica (Curriculum B)
Anno Accademico 2011/2012
Machiavelli’s Republic: On Some Enduring Principles
of the Discourses on Livy
David N. Levy
Supervisori:
Prof. Virginio Marzocchi
Prof. Stefano Petrucciani
Prof. Charles Butterworth (University of Maryland)
Prof. Murray Dry (Middlebury College)
Dedicated to the memory of my father,
Richard A. Levy,
lover of republican liberty
and admirer of Machiavelli
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
3
Introduction: Returning to Machiavelli
4
1. Liberty from Conflict
44
2. The Problem of Empire
84
3. Corruption: Its Causes, Uses and Remedies
123
4. The Princely Republic
178
5. Conclusion
221
Bibliography
230
3
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank my supervisors for many helpful comments and corrections.
My mother, Sandra Levy, also offered a number of corrections. Of course, I alone am
responsible for the imperfections which remain. Mariano Croce gave me the idea for this
thesis.
4
Introduction: Returning to Machiavelli
[I]t may be precisely those aspects of the past
which appear at first glance to be without
contemporary relevance that may prove upon
closer acquaintance to be of the most immediate
philosophical significance.
Quentin Skinner1
Machiavelli, though best known as a teacher of princes, is also a teacher of republics.
He is the author not only of the Principe but also of the Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito
Livio,2 a work which is not less fundamental to his thought, and which gives explicit
instructions for the ordering of a free society. Our aim in this thesis is to explain those
instructions and to indicate their relevance today. In this respect we follow the trail blazed
in recent decades by Quentin Skinner and his associates, who have argued that
Machiavelli‘s conception of liberty, after five centuries, remains useful. We shall have to
consider to what extent their Machiavelli is the authentic Machiavelli.
To say that Machiavelli is a teacher implies that we should try to learn not so much
about him as from him. This notion will be regarded by some as naïve, for it seems to
depend upon a lack of historical awareness. Machiavelli, it may be said, writes in and for a
society that is vastly different from our own; accordingly his problems are different from
1
2
Skinner 2002a, p. 195.
This work will generally be referred to as the Discorsi. For the editions used of this and other works of
Machiavelli, see the Bibliography.
5
our problems. Machiavelli‘s Florence is essentially a small, pre-modern city-state; today we
live in massive nation-states characterized by forces unknown to Machiavelli: modern
science, modern technology, ideology and ―globalization.‖ It is surely no derogation from
Machiavelli‘s greatness as a thinker to admit that while he may have found solutions for the
problems of his own time, he can hardly have found solutions for quite different problems
which arose centuries after his death. Apart from serving as an inspiring example, it is not
clear in what sense he could be our teacher.
To this objection we aim to respond, in part later in this Introduction, and in part
through this thesis as a whole. In the meantime, there is one obvious fact which ought to
give pause to those inclined to historicize Machiavelli: the enduring popularity of the
Principe. In spite of all historical change, the ordinary reader has, we believe, always
reacted to this book as if it had been written by a contemporary. He 3 has been either
repelled or fascinated. He has regarded it either as a compendium of all that is wicked in
political life, or as a useful guide to political success; but he has not regarded it as obsolete.
Indeed, no one who reads the Principe with an open mind can fail to see that it treats not
only of the politics of Machiavelli‘s time but to some extent of all politics, and that many of
the phenomena which it discusses can be found, mutatis mutandis, in this morning‘s
newspaper. It is no accident that the term ―Machiavellian‖ is still in common use. It is still
in common use because, to repeat, so many of the phenomena reported by Machiavelli recur
every day before our very eyes, although names and appearances may have changed. And
because these phenomena recur, Machiavelli‘s fundamental questions have remained
relevant. He famously asks, in chapter 17 of the Principe, whether it is better for a prince to
be feared or loved. He answers that one would wish to be both the one and the other, but
3
In this thesis, masculine terms such as ―he,‖ ―man,‖ and ―men,‖ when used in a general sense, refer, as a rule,
to both men and women.
6
that if one has to choose, one should choose to be feared. For since men are, generally
speaking, ungrateful and selfish, their love of you is not a reliable motive; far more reliable
is their fear of your punishment. Hence it is safer to be feared—so long as you avoid being
hated, which is easy to do if you abstain from your subjects‘ property and women. This
answer may be sound or unsound but it would be hard to argue that the question itself is no
longer relevant. It is a question which obviously applies not only to Renaissance princes but
to anyone who governs human beings—whether he be called a prince, a president, a leader
or a manager. Everyone can think of examples from his own life and from contemporary
politics which could be cited for or against Machiavelli‘s advice.4 It may be objected that
this advice does not occur in a vacuum but within a certain chapter in a certain book, written
in a certain time and place and related to a certain political and intellectual context, and that
for a complete understanding of what Machiavelli says, all these facts must be taken into
account. This objection is not unreasonable. Nevertheless, we maintain that the reader‘s
first impression of the immediacy of Machiavelli is not misleading. For while one must
indeed study the context, one must never lose sight of that which is common to every
context.
If the Principe is still relevant today, it is not impossible that the same will be true of
other works of Machiavelli, such as his Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio. In fact,
the Discorsi may easily appear to be even more relevant than the Principe. For politics
today, in the Western world, is essentially republican (notwithstanding the occasional
constitutional monarch), and it is in the Discorsi, rather than in the Principe, that
Machiavelli comes to sight clearly as a republican and a theorist of liberty. Republicanism
and liberty seem to be at least as important in defining our experience of politics today as
4
In addition to examples of individuals, one could think of the modern liberal state itself: insofar as that state
aspires to combine strict punitive justice with a deep respect for property rights and personal dignity, it is in
perfect agreement with Machiavelli.
7
are the admittedly profound influences of science, technology, ideology and globalization.
There is a presumptive case, then, for studying the Discorsi as a work relevant to our
concerns, in spite of its having been written so long ago and in such different circumstances.
This presumptive case is strengthened by the fact that in recent decades, a number of
scholars have argued that the Discorsi deserves to be studied in just this manner. One of the
most influential of these scholars, Quentin Skinner, has argued that the view elaborated in
the Discorsi is not only relevant to contemporary concerns, but is even superior to the
prevailing contemporary view.
For Skinner, Machiavelli is the classic modern
representative of what may be described as the republican tradition, a tradition Skinner aims
to revive and defend over against the liberal one.5 In this thesis we seek partly to build
upon, partly to evaluate critically Skinner‘s project of republican revival as it regards
Machiavelli.
While paying the most attention to Skinner, we also consider the efforts of
two scholars who have associated themselves with him, Maurizio Viroli and Philip Pettit.6
We make no attempt to survey the entire field of contemporary ―republican‖ theory, of
which Skinner and his associates constitute only one branch.7
5
Skinner himself has come to prefer the term ―neo-Roman‖ to ―republican‖, since some of the thinkers in the
tradition he has in mind were not necessarily opposed to monarchy and were not, therefore, strictly speaking
republicans (Skinner 1998, p. 11 n. 31 and p. 55 nn. 176-7). For simplicity‘s sake we shall use the term
―republican‖ in this thesis.
6
Other like-minded scholars include John Maynor (see Maynor 2003) and Jean-Fabien Spitz (see Spitz 2005).
J.G.A. Pocock is often classed together with Skinner, but in fact, they hold quite contrasting views of
Machiavelli: for Pocock (as we shall see in chapter 1) Machiavelli is a kind of Aristotelian, whereas for
Skinner (as we shall see shortly) he is emphatically not an Aristotelian. On this fundamental issue, we follow
Skinner.
7
For such a survey, see Baccelli 2003. Baccelli, too, believes that we can learn something of critical
importance from Machiavelli, and he, too, aims to go beyond Skinner and his associates in recovering the
authentic Machiavelli. The Machiavelli of Baccelli is more democratic than the one presented in this thesis.
The same remarks apply to McCormick 2011. (Whereas Bacelli‘s book is primarily about contemporary
republican theory, McCormick‘s book, like this thesis, is primarily about Machiavelli.) For another survey of
contemporary republican theory with special reference to Skinner, see Geuna 1998.
8
These three scholars, then, propose a revival, with appropriate modifications,8 of the
republican tradition, a tradition that flourished in classical Rome, in early modern Italy, in
the England of Harrington and Cato’s Letters, in the thought of Rousseau and Montesquieu,
and in the American and French Revolutions—but that is said to have been subsequently
―discarded,‖ ―lost,‖ ―forgotten‖9 as a consequence of the triumph of liberalism. The contrast
which these scholars draw between republicanism and liberalism is, in brief, that
republicans expect more from both government and citizens than liberals do. Liberals (i.e.
―classical liberals‖ and those influenced by them) tend to favor a minimalist state and to
believe in the ―invisible hand:‖ government must prevent the individual from invading the
rights of others, but otherwise should leave him alone to pursue his own self-interest, since it
is precisely by pursuing his own self-interest that he will best serve the interest of others and
of the community as a whole. In a well-ordered society, the public good is the unintended
but inevitable by-product of the pursuit of the private good. Against the liberal argument
these scholars raise two main objections. First, a minimalist state and the workings of the
invisible hand permit and even foster vast inequalities of wealth and power.
Such
inequalities inevitably produce the dependence of the weak upon the strong, a dependence
which is tantamount to a condition of domination. The liberal solution fails to prevent some
persons from falling under the domination of others, a domination which may not involve a
tangible invasion of rights but which nevertheless entails the loss of liberty. For we are not
free when we are dominated by another, whether or not that other is actively interfering with
our freedom. This can occur, for example, as a result of concentrations of economic power
which in the absence of legal protections make workers excessively dependent upon
employers. A worker wholly dependent, for his daily bread, on the whim of his employer is
8
The chief explicit modification is that of rendering republicanism egalitarian as regards class and sex. See
Pettit 1997, p. 6.
9
Skinner 2002a, p. 190; Pettit 1997, p. 50; Viroli 1999, p. xv.
9
not really a free man.10 The state must therefore be more active than liberals allow, for it
must secure freedom understood as non-dependence or non-domination and not merely
freedom understood as the absence of active, visible interference.
The second objection raised by these scholars against liberalism regards civic virtue.
For the survival of a free society, they say, it is not sufficient that each member of that
society should pursue his own self-interest. Civic virtue, public service, patriotism are
required. Yet liberalism refuses to cultivate and maintain these indispensable supports of
liberty, insisting that the only legitimate activity of government is the protection of rights,
and that the public good is best attained through self-interested activity. These scholars are
aware that there are varieties of liberalism that are less minimalist and require a more
nuanced treatment.
But they maintain that liberalism‘s inherent tendency is in the
minimalist direction.11
Skinner’s method
The intellectual historian Quentin Skinner is distinguished not only by considerable
erudition but by a disposition to reflect upon the theoretical presuppositions of his historical
research. He is perhaps best known as the exponent of a certain method of understanding a
text which emphasizes the importance of the historical context.
Skinner presents his
interpretation of Machiavelli as an illustration of this method and of its usefulness. The
usefulness of the method consists, above all, in the fact that it permits us to glimpse the
intentions of past writers and therefore to rediscover ―alternative possibilities‖ of thinking
and acting—possibilities, that is, which are unrecognized in the contemporary debate.12
10
Pettit 1997, p. 62.
11
Ibid., pp. 8-10.
12
Skinner 2002, pp. 126-7.
10
While it is sometimes assumed that unrecognized possibilities belong necessarily to the
future and that to be profound is therefore to be innovative, Skinner implicitly questions
this assumption: not all unrecognized possibilities are new; some are old and even ancient.
The task of the intellectual historian or archaeologist is to excavate these older, forgotten
possibilities, to hold them up to the light of day, and to ask about their worth. For unless we
are prepared to argue that the human mind is always progressing, we have to admit that
certain older ways of thinking could be more profound than the latest intellectual
innovations. Unless we believe in historical determinism, we cannot deny that our present
beliefs and way of life are partly due to ―choices made at different times between different
possible worlds,‖13 that different choices could have been made, and that one can and must
wonder whether the choices made were the right ones. For although past choices cannot be
undone, and may constrain us in countless ways, still ―[w]e may be freer than we sometimes
suppose:‖14 we retain the power to question such choices, at least in thought and in speech,
and the consequences of such questioning cannot be predicted.
One alternative possibility that deserves reconsideration, according to Skinner, is that
which finds classic expression in Machiavelli‘s Discorsi. The teaching of the Discorsi, he
argues, represents a forgotten third way between Aristotelianism and liberalism. In common
with liberalism, the Discorsi defends a liberty that is, in the language of Isaiah Berlin,
―negative‖ rather than ―positive.‖15 It is a freedom from rather than a freedom for. There is
nothing Aristotelian about this liberty, nothing teleological. Liberty in the Discorsi means
simply, in Skinner‘s formulation, ―the absence of constraint,‖ or to keep closer to
13
Ibid., p. 6.
14
Ibid., p. 7.
15
Berlin 1969.
11
Machiavelli‘s own language, the absence of dependence.16 Yet Machiavelli‘s liberty is not
the individualistic, egoistic liberty of liberalism, for it proves to be inseparable from public
service and civic virtue.
This is so not because man by nature finds his fulfillment in
virtuous activity, but simply because public service and civic virtue ―prove upon
examination to be instrumentally necessary to the avoidance of coercion and servitude.‖17
Liberty is the end, virtue merely the indispensable means. It is the indispensability, not the
nobility, of virtue and duty which Skinner accuses liberals of neglecting, and it is on this
ground that he proposes a return to Machiavelli.
The thesis that Machiavelli represents an alternative to both Aristotelianism and
liberalism is, we believe, defensible and important. Properly understood, it can help us to
avoid the two opposite errors of viewing Machiavelli primarily in the light of his
predecessors, and of viewing him primarily in the light of his successors.
For while
Machiavelli claims to revere the ancients, this claim, as we shall see in chapter 1, is more
rhetorical than sincere; and while he may be, as is often said, the founding father of modern
political philosophy, this does not mean that his descendants have always been perfectly
obedient to his precepts.
Nevertheless, Machiavelli‘s relationship to liberalism, in
particular, seems to be more complex than Skinner allows. Skinner identifies liberalism
with selfish individualism, Machiavelli with public service. Yet he also says that one of
Machiavelli‘s central insights is that self-interest can be exploited to serve the common
good: private vices can be made to produce public benefits.
Skinner refers to a
contemporary liberal thinker who in his view neglects this insight.18 Whatever may be true
16
Skinner 2002a, pp. 197-8, 210-11. (On p. 197, Skinner cites the distinction which Machiavelli draws in
Discorsi I. 1: uomini liberi o che dependono da altri.)
17
Ibid., p. 211.
18
Ibid., pp. 177-9. The thinker is John Rawls.
12
of this particular thinker, we are much mistaken if liberalism in general has not made this
insight its own. We are much mistaken if the selfish individualism of liberalism is not
closely connected precisely to the principle of ―private vices, public benefits.‖19 This
difficulty in Skinner‘s presentation makes it all the more necessary for us to undertake a
careful study of the Discorsi, in order to understand more clearly in what respects
Machiavelli represents an alternative to contemporary political thinking, and in particular to
liberalism.
The attempt to learn about and from Machiavelli implies that his books have
knowable meanings. It implies that Machiavelli as an author has knowable intentions.
Some may say that rather than trying to discover Machiavelli‘s true intentions or purposes,
we should instead appropriate his concepts for purposes of our own. But appropriating a
Machiavellian concept requires that we first understand that concept as Machiavelli himself
understood it. Otherwise we are not appropriating but simply inventing, in which case it is
hardly necessary to read Machiavelli at all.
If one of Machiavelli‘s concepts can be
profitably used in a way that he himself did not intend, by all means let us do so, but let us
first understand what he himself intended. Yet is such understanding even possible? If it is
possible, is it relevant to interpreting his texts? As Skinner observes, the assumptions that
knowable intentions exist and that they are relevant to interpreting a text are not universally
accepted today.20 It may be useful, therefore, to consider the question at somewhat greater
length and in this connection to review Skinner‘s argument about the proper method of
reading a text.
19
Cf. Pettit 1997, pp. 202-4.
20
Skinner 2002, pp. 90-93.
13
It might be supposed that the meaning of a text, if indeed there exists any such
meaning, lies in the meaning of its words and sentences, taken by themselves, with no need
to refer to anyone‘s intention. But to speak or write words and sentences is, normally, to
perform a voluntary action; it is to perform a ―speech act.‖
Through speech one
accomplishes a voluntary action such as explaining, warning, commanding, forbidding and
so on. Voluntary actions are as such purposive or intentional. When we say that someone
is, through speech, explaining, warning, commanding or forbidding, we normally mean that
he intends to explain, warn, command or forbid, and that his words cannot be properly
understood unless his intention is understood. The meaning of a given set of words often
varies according to the speaker‘s intention, because that intention often implies other words
that remain unspoken. To understand the intention is to understand both the spoken and the
unspoken words together.21 For example, the sentence, ―That action is not the custom in our
society‖ may be a prohibition, a warning or an explanation. If it is a prohibition, the
unspoken words will be something like, ―And therefore you must not do it.‖ If it is a
warning, the unspoken words will be something like, ―And therefore be careful.‖ If on the
other hand it is an explanation, the unspoken words could well be, ―And that is why our
society is so defective.‖ It is clear that to understand the meaning of the sentence, we need
to know the meaning of the speech act which the speaker is performing; we need to know
what the speaker is trying to do, or in other words what his intention is. Consider, as
another example, Machiavelli‘s statement in chapter 6 of the Principe that ―of Moses one
should not reason, since he was a mere executor of the things that had been commanded to
him by God.‖ It appears that this statement is an explanation (and perhaps also a prohibition
and a warning), and that the unspoken words are something like, ―And that is why I shall not
reason about Moses.‖ Yet as we continue reading in this chapter, we find to our surprise
21
See Skinner 2002, pp. 106-7 and, more generally, pp. 103-127. See also pp. 90-102.
14
that Machiavelli does, in fact, reason about Moses.22 This may lead us to suspect that the
statement quoted is ironic (for irony, too, is a speech act23), and that the unspoken words in
some way contradict the spoken words.
Only the resolute denial that we can do what, in practice, we all believe we can do
and what our daily existence in fact depends on, only the resolute denial that to understand
actions we can and must understand intentions, will prevent us from seeking the intention of
the author as the key to the meaning of a text. The fact that establishing intentions is
sometimes difficult, and sometimes even impossible, is not a good reason for abandoning
the attempt, any more than the fact that we cannot know everything is a good reason for
believing that we cannot know anything. Meanings and intentions, in literature as in life,
are often less than perfectly clear: this fact is an objection only for those who believe that all
genuine knowledge must be certain knowledge or who, as Skinner puts it, are ―[h]aunted . . .
by the ghost of Descartes.‖24
The truth is that intentions are often tolerably clear.
Moreover, authors, like other people, sometimes state their intentions explicitly. In the
Discorsi, for instance, Machiavelli announces his intention in the Proemio to Book One: He
says he has written the Discorsi in order to disabuse men of the error that it is impossible to
imitate the ancients. This may not be a complete statement of his intention, but it is
tolerably clear and it gives us a non-arbitrary starting point for understanding the Discorsi—
i.e. for understanding what action Machiavelli wishes to perform through this text. In a
famous letter, Machiavelli says that when he studies the ancient authors, he speaks with
22
See also Discorsi III. 30.
23
Skinner 2002, pp. 80, 111-12.
24
Ibid., p. 122.
15
them and asks them ―the reason for their actions.‖25 We take it that their ―actions‖ are their
texts, and their ―reason‖ is their intention. The method of interpreting a text as a speech act
guided by an intention appears to be a return to Machiavelli‘s own method of interpretation.
Focusing on the author‘s intention helps guard against certain errors. One such error
is that of understanding a text primarily in the light of its historical influence. Historical
influence is of course one sense in which a text can have meaning. But it is necessary to ask
whether such influence was in accordance with the author‘s intention or contrary to it, or
perhaps simply unrelated to it. This is especially true in the case of a great author, because
his intention, which is wholly under his control, is undoubtedly more interesting than the
effects of that intention, which he cannot wholly control. Moreover, by concentrating too
much on the question of influence one will tend to overrate those aspects of the text that
seem to have been most influential, at the expense of other aspects which the author himself
may have considered more important. Worse, one may evaluate the text based on how well
or poorly it has ―anticipated‖ later developments. The result of this latter approach is that
―the writers of the past are simply praised or blamed according to how far they seem to have
aspired to the condition of being ourselves.‖26
Another error is that of too quickly assuming that we know what a certain text is
about because we recognize some of its key terms. We may be tempted to assume that these
terms mean the same thing as they mean in other texts of the same period, or in other texts
within the same tradition. Thus the really ―alien elements‖ of a text may ―dissolve into a
misleading familiarity.‖27 For perhaps we have not paid enough attention to the particularity
25
Letter to Vettori, 10 December 1513 (Opere, p. 1160): io non mi vergogno parlare con loro, et domandarli
della ragione delle loro actioni.
26
Skinner 2002, p. 63.
27
Ibid., p. 76.
16
of the text, a particularity caused by the particular intention of its author. Concentrating on
the author‘s intention helps sharpen our awareness of the possible difference between what
is said and what is meant, or between what the author is saying and what he is doing. What
the author says, the terms and concepts he uses, may seem to fit within certain conventions;
what the author is doing may not fit within the conventions at all. Irony and satire are
examples, though not the only examples, of how an author may be ―pressing a familiar
vocabulary into heterodox use,‖ how he may be subverting the very conventions and
commonplaces that he appears to take for granted.28
To study an author‘s intention means, in part, to study the relation between that
intention and the conventions of his time, place or tradition—the relation, in other words,
between text and context. For while it is not reasonable to assume that every text is a mere
product of its context, or that every philosopher is merely a child of his time, it is reasonable
to assume that every text is responding to its context. Every text is in some way responding
to the conventional wisdom—whether by endorsing it or questioning it, or even polemically
ignoring it.29 This fact provides the most solid basis for Skinner‘s famous emphasis on the
need to study a philosophic work together with its intellectual context. Only through
knowledge of the relevant context, the context to which an author is responding, can one
understand the author‘s intention. The relevant context is not always the immediate one, for
―the problems to which writers see themselves as responding may have been posed in a
remote period, even in a wholly different culture.‖ Thus to gain a knowledge of the relevant
context ―we may need to engage in extremely wide-ranging as well as detailed historical
28
Ibid., p. 81. See also Skinner‘s discussion in ibid., pp. 123-4 of a quietly satirical use of literary convention
by E.M. Forster.
29
Skinner 1978, p. xiii.
17
research.‖30 By historical research Skinner seems to mean primarily research in intellectual
history or in the history of philosophy: Skinner sees thinkers as responding primarily to
other thinkers.
What Skinner does not make sufficiently clear, what he in fact denies, is that a
careful reading of the text itself, rather than extensive research outside the text, is the
essential first step toward determining the relevant context. It is the text itself which
typically indicates what the relevant context is. A good writer takes the trouble to make his
intention discoverable by the reader. He communicates his intention, whether directly or
indirectly; he does not shroud it in impenetrable obscurity. Communicating his intention
includes giving indications as to the relevant context.
Sometimes the indications are
obvious. Machiavelli writes a book called Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio:
obviously, the relevant context of this book includes Livy. Sometimes the indications are
less obvious. Machiavelli refers in chapter 15 of the Principe to his disagreement with the
―many‖ who have written of imaginary republics and principalities, without naming any of
those ―many.‖ Two sentences later, continuing the same general thought, he asserts that it is
necessary for a prince who wants to maintain himself to learn how not to be good. Skinner
says that this assertion must be read as ―in part intended as an attack on the morality
embodied in humanist advice-books to princes‖ and that this fact ―cannot be discovered by
attending to Machiavelli‘s text, since this is not a fact contained in the text.‖ This example
shows, according to Skinner, why the careful reading and re-reading of the text itself cannot
be the right way to understand it; rather one must study the relations between text and
context.31 Now it is true that the names of the ―many‖ who have written of imaginary
republics and principalities are not ―contained in the text;‖ Machiavelli assumes that the
30
Skinner 2002, p. 116.
31
Ibid., pp. 136, 142-3.
18
reader will be able to guess who they are, and therefore whose morality he is attacking when
he says two sentences later that a prince must learn not to be good. If the reader cannot
guess, he must do some research.
But such research must always be guided by the
indications in the text itself. For the study of context is infinite: only the text can indicate
which elements of the context are of greatest importance. The text is always our star and
compass even when we go outside the text. This is not to deny that some of the text‘s
allusions may be wholly tacit and may presuppose an erudition which few of us possess.
From this fact we may infer, not so much that the text does not contain the necessary
indications, as that Machiavelli has high expectations as to the reader‘s preparation.
External research, then, is necessary.
But the danger of emphasizing external
research and de-emphasizing the text is that we may too quickly presume that we know,
based on our criteria rather than Machiavelli‘s, what research needs to be performed. We
may assume, for example, that in chapter 15 of the Principe Machiavelli must be attacking
the humanist advice-books to princes: the humanists, after all, are Machiavelli‘s
contemporaries and immediate predecessors; naturally, he desires to respond to them. Yet
what seems natural to us may not be so for Machiavelli. From the evidence of the text itself,
one might well question whether the humanist advice-books to princes are a particularly
important target for Machiavelli. In the first place, he speaks of imaginary republics, not
only principalities, and in so doing he seems to allude to Plato. In the second place, in an
immediately preceding passage, at the end of chapter 14, Machiavelli refers to the literature
on princes, but all the examples of princes are ancient and the only author he names is
Xenophon. In light of these facts, it seems not unlikely that in chapter 15 Machiavelli
means to attack primarily the original sources of the humanist tradition rather than the
19
humanists per se.32 (Let us recall that, in Skinner‘s words, ―the problems to which writers
see themselves as responding may have been posed in a remote period, even in a wholly
different culture.‖) However this may be, our basic point is simply this: in attempting to
understand Machiavelli‘s intention, one should certainly study the context, but one should
try to study the context as defined by Machiavelli. This may not always be an easy task.
But we should assume, until the contrary is proven, that he has dropped enough hints to
make it a feasible one.
Perennial problems?
Skinner‘s argument about the need to study the context is followed by a further and
more important argument, described by Skinner himself as his fundamental claim.33
Through investigating intentions and contexts, he says, one becomes aware of their essential
individuality. A superficial reading of a series of texts in a given tradition may suggest a
broad continuity of subject matter. Many of the major texts in Western political philosophy
seem to discuss the same subjects, such as justice and liberty. But this continuity is more
apparent than real. The fact that two authors use similar terms is not decisive, for a study of
their respective intentions may show that they use such terms in widely different ways. A
good example is Machiavelli‘s use of the term ―virtue.‖
(This is our example, not
Skinner‘s.) The term itself is an ancient one, but as everyone knows, Machiavelli gives it a
new meaning. The fact that both Cicero and Machiavelli talk about ―virtue‖ does not, then,
prove that they are talking about the same thing.
Thus, ―the persistence of particular
expressions tells us nothing reliable about the persistence of the questions that the
expressions may have been used to answer, nor of what the different writers who used the
32
Tarcov 1982, p. 704. The venerable character of those sources may explain why in chapter 15 Machiavelli
does not name them.
33
Skinner 1988, p. 234.
20
expressions may have meant by using them.‖ In fact, the more we study intentions, the
more we realize that there is no ―one set of questions to which the different thinkers are all
addressing themselves;‖ rather, ―there are only individual answers to individual questions.‖
There are no persistent questions, ―there are no perennial problems in philosophy.‖ But if
this is so, one may wonder, why study previous philosophers at all? If their problems have
no relation to our problems, what can we learn from them? The useful lesson to be learned
from the history of philosophy, replies Skinner, is precisely that there are no permanent
problems, no timeless concepts.
All problems and concepts, whether philosophical or
political, are contingent. From this lesson we can gain ―self-awareness;‖ we can realize that
―our own society is no different from any other‖ and that ―those features of our own
arrangements which we may be disposed to accept as ‗timeless‘ truths may be little more
than contingencies of our local history and social structure.‖34
Believing as he does in the historical contingency of all concepts, Skinner is
naturally suspicious of ―all those neo-Kantian projects of our time in which we encounter an
aspiration to halt the flux of politics by trying definitively to fix the analysis of key moral
terms.‖ Of course, Skinner should be suspicious not only of neo-Kantians but of all those
who think, and have thought, that it is possible to speak a permanent truth about a moral or
political question. Indeed, it appears that for Skinner it is not possible to speak even a
temporary or contingent truth about such a question. Moral and political truth of any kind
appears to be unavailable or at any rate irrelevant, for ―we need to treat our normative
concepts less as statements about the world than as tools and weapons of ideological
debate.‖
Skinner cites in this context Nietzsche as well as ―Foucault‘s Nietzschean
contention that ‗the history which bears and determines us has the form of a war.‘‖ 35 He
34
Skinner 2002, pp. 85, 86, 88-9.
35
Ibid., pp. 176-7.
21
directs our attention to what he considers to be ―the ideological motivations underlying even
the most abstract systems of thought,‖ and he views ―with a certain irony those moral and
political philosophers of our own day who present us with overarching visions of justice,
freedom and other cherished values in the manner of dispassionate analysts standing above
the battle.‖ For ―[w]hat the historical record strongly suggests is that no one is above the
battle, because the battle is all there is.‖36 Philosophy, then, is and ought to be ideological
warfare, never friendly discussion aimed at discovering the truth.
If we accept this view, we can only regard as deceptive or self-deceptive
Machiavelli‘s report of his friendly conversations with the ancients, in which he asks them
the reason for their actions, and they in their humanity respond to him.37 And we can only
regard in the same light his statement in the Discorsi that io non giudicherò mai essere
difetto difendere alcuna opinione con le ragioni, sanza volervi usare l’autorità o la forza.38
For the fundamental distinction between the use of reasons and the use of authority and
force collapses once one has decided that ―the battle is all there is‖ and that all normative
concepts are essentially ―weapons.‖39
At this point the reader may find himself somewhat disoriented. How did Skinner,
starting from the premise that the meaning of a philosophic text depends on the intention of
its author, arrive at the conclusion that philosophy is war? In fact, the conclusion does not
follow from the premise. Nor does it follow from that premise that there are no perennial
36
Skinner 2002, pp. 6-7. Cf. Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil I. 6, in which he denies that philosophers are
motivated by the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake; every philosophy is but the unconscious product of
some instinct which primarily seeks dominion, not knowledge.
37
38
39
See pp. 14-15 above.
Discorsi I. 58.
That normative concepts can be used as weapons is obvious, and Machiavelli himself sometimes uses
normative concepts in this way (cf. p. 118 below). But Skinner‘s assertion seems to be that they are always
and essentially weapons.
22
problems. The fact that a given philosopher uses a given term in his own way and for his
own purposes does not prove that the basic problem he is addressing is not a perennial one.
The fact that a given philosopher may be ―pressing a familiar vocabulary into a heterodox
use,‖ in Skinner‘s apt phrase, has no bearing on the question of whether he is doing so in
order to address an old problem or a new one, a permanent problem or a contingent one. It
also has no bearing on the question of whether he is doing so in order to make a reasonable
argument or to wage ideological war.
There is a tension, not to say a contradiction, between Skinner‘s denial of the
existence of perennial problems and his argument for returning to Machiavelli.
That
argument assumes, or attempts to prove, that we today face some of the same problems
which Machiavelli faced, and that we should take seriously his solutions to those problems.
Skinner believes that Machiavelli disagrees with Aristotle about the meaning or purpose of
liberty, and with contemporary liberals about how to preserve liberty.
How can
Machiavelli be said to disagree with both Aristotle and liberals about liberty, if the problem
of liberty is not a perennial one? For every genuine disagreement presupposes an agreement
as to the existence of a certain problem or subject matter. If there are no common problems
but only individual ones, there can be no disagreement. Thus what Skinner practices (i.e.
his return to Machiavelli), as opposed to what he preaches, implies the existence of
perennial problems.40 And what he practices, as opposed to what he preaches, implies the
possibility of a reasonable debate about such problems rather than a mere battle for
ideological supremacy. Certainly he tries to persuade us with reasons, not to overwhelm us
with authority or force.
40
Occasionally Skinner acknowledges the continuity of certain philosophic questions across the ages, but
without explaining clearly how this acknowledgement can be reconciled with his emphatic denials elsewhere
of such continuity. See Skinner 1998, pp. 117-8 including n. 29, and contrast ibid., p. 101-2. See also Skinner
1988, p. 283.
23
What Skinner practices derives support from the practice of Machiavelli himself. In
Principe 15, which introduces the problem of political morality, Machiavelli claims to be
doing something new (partendomi . . . da li ordini delli altri). He does not, however, claim
to be addressing a new problem. The problem—quali debbino essere e’ modi e governi di
uno principe o co’ sudditi o con li amici—is admittedly not new: molti di questo hanno
scritto. It is not the problem but Machiavelli‘s solution to the problem which is new.
Similarly, in the chapters which follow (16-19), Machiavelli does not claim to be dealing
with new subject matter. The subject matter—the moral virtues and vices—is not new; what
is new is Machiavelli‘s treatment of it. For instance, the question whether it is better to be
loved than feared was discussed, as Machiavelli surely knew, in a famous work of Cicero;
Machiavelli gives a different answer from the one Cicero gave, but to the same question.41
As a result of Machiavelli‘s analysis of the virtues, the term virtue itself takes on a new
meaning. But this new meaning represents Machiavelli‘s distinctive answer to a perennial
question, namely: what is virtue? What is human and political excellence?
To say that Machiavelli understands himself to be dealing with perennial problems is
not to say that he is interested only in such problems. He is deeply interested in a number of
problems that are new or contingent—for example, the problem of the temporal power of
the Roman church. Even here, however, he shows how this new problem is essentially
related to a perennial one, namely the problem of the relation between religion and political
power.
The ancient Romans, Machiavelli argues, solved this problem correctly, by
subordinating religion to the requirements of politics or by subordinating priests to
statesmen; the modern Italians‘ failure to solve this problem correctly is, he implies, the
41
Principe 17; Cicero, De Officiis II. 7, 23 ff. Colish (1978, p. 80) says, ―The De Officiis was read and copied
more frequently than any other single work of classical Latin prose in the Middle Ages and Renaissance . . . .‖
See also Skinner 2002a, p. 42.
24
cause of Italy‘s disunion and weakness.42
To take another example, the question of
mercenary soldiers, which so concerns Machiavelli, seems to be more specific to his own
time than perennial. Skinner remarks that ―nowadays the question does not arise.‖43 But the
question of mercenary soldiers in Machiavelli is really part of a larger one, that of arme
proprie, one‘s own arms, with arms being understood in the broadest sense. The question is
whether a republic can rely on others or must ultimately rely on itself.44 This larger question
is not time-bound.
Nor, as regards the specific question of mercenary soldiers, can one leave it at saying
that ―nowadays the question does not arise.‖ One must ask why it does not arise. It does
not arise, we would suggest, because modern nations long ago came to the same conclusion
as Machiavelli, namely that mercenaries are harmful or useless. The question does not arise,
not because it does not exist, but because agreement has been reached on how it is to be
answered.45
There is no reason to assume that such agreement will be eternal; at some
point in the future, nations may again make use of mercenary armies. Similarly, at some
point in the future, let us hope in the far distant future, republican liberty may disappear
from the world (as it has done in the past) and, for a time, be replaced by despotism. In such
an epoch, a scholar may feel himself justified in saying that ―nowadays the question of
liberty does not arise.‖ But would this prove that liberty is not a perennial question? Or
42
Discorsi I. 11-12. Compare the account in I. 14 of how the Roman general Papirius dealt on a certain
occasion with the head of the soothsayers with the statement in I. 27 about how Giovampagolo Baglioni ought
to have dealt with the pope.
43
Skinner 2002, p. 53.
44
See Principe 13 and chapter 2 below.
45
Actually, it is an exaggeration to say that the question of mercenaries does not arise today. On 12 December
1996, the United Nations General Assembly adopted Resolution 51/83 (http://www.un.org/
documents/ga/res/51/ares51-83.htm), in which it proclaimed itself ―[a]larmed and concerned about the danger
which the activities of mercenaries constitute to peace and security in developing countries, particularly in
Africa and in small States, where democratically elected Governments have been overthrown by mercenaries
or through mercenary international criminal activities.‖ Some would allege that even ―developed‖ countries
sometimes make use of mercenaries under the name of ―contractors.‖
25
would it merely indicate that liberty can be suppressed and its supporters silenced? In other
words, the mere fact that a question does not ―arise‖ in a given epoch, the mere fact that it is
not publicly recognized and debated, does not prove that it is not perennial.
The same reasoning applies to fundamental questions that appear to be wholly new.
Suppose a philosopher raises a question that has never been raised before. This in itself
would not prove that the question is not perennial, any more than Columbus‘ discovery of a
new continent proved that that continent had not existed prior to Columbus. To prove
conclusively that such a question is not perennial, one would have to show that it not only
has not but in principle could not have been raised before. One way to do so would be to
argue that the new question is linked to essentially new circumstances. It could be argued,
for example, that certain fundamental political questions could not have been asked prior to
the emergence of the modern nation-state. Still, there would be a debate over whether the
nation-state is best understood as a wholly new kind of political entity or as a new variant of
an old kind. Machiavelli declares that [t]utti gli stati, tutti e’ dominii che hanno avuto e
hanno imperio sopra gli uomini, sono stati e sono o republiche o principati.46 This implies
that the most fundamental distinction among states is the distinction between republics and
principalities. If a given nation-state can reasonably be classified as either a republic or a
principality, then it cannot, at least from a Machiavellian point of view, be considered a
wholly new kind of political entity. Otherwise stated, it is fair to ask why people continue to
speak of ―politics,‖ using an ancient Greek word, if not because of certain basic continuities
between new political entities and old ones.47 We do not wish to assert that all of the most
46
47
Principe 1.
Collingwood, whom Skinner cites as a major influence on his thought (Skinner 2002, p. 87 n. 137; cf. p. 88),
agrees that there are continuities between old and new political entities, but claims that the discontinuities are
more essential than the continuities. Thus it would be wrong to suppose, for instance, that Plato‘s Republic
and Hobbes‘ Leviathan are two theories about the same thing, namely the best political order. Rather, they are
two theories about two quite different things, namely the Greek polis on the one hand and the 17th century
26
fundamental problems are at bottom perennial; to establish this would require a much longer
discussion. We do wish to suggest that at least some of the most fundamental problems are
perennial and that one should be cautious in assuming that a new problem cannot be
understood as a variant of an old one.
It may be objected that the notion of perennial problems is an unbearable constriction
of human freedom and creativity. For it means that human beings of every epoch are fated
to confront the same conflicts and dilemmas.
History, at bottom, is nothing but the
wearisome repetition of the same. It is Sisyphus rolling the same stone up the same hill.
Far more attractive and exciting appears the hypothesis that human beings can in every
epoch create themselves anew and thereby create new problems, new challenges, new
horizons for human action and aspiration. Moreover, the obsessive search for sameness and
regularity blinds us to the wonderful and inexhaustible variety of human ways, the
irreducible multiplicity which distinguishes the human species from all others. One should
accept this multiplicity and learn to love it, rather than seeking to overcome it with facile
generalizations. The general is superficial; it is the particular that is profound.
But this objection is not valid. The recognition of perennial problems does not
impair human freedom. On the contrary, such recognition is the key to freedom, for it
absolutist state on the other. It makes no sense, therefore, to say that Plato and Hobbes contradict each other
and that one should try to discover who is right. (Collingwood 1939, pp. 60-64) The difficulty with
Collingwood‘s opinion is that Hobbes himself did not share it. Hobbes believed that he was indeed
contradicting Plato and other ancient political philosophers, and that he and they were arguing about
essentially the same thing, namely the right order of ―commonwealth,‖ a word he applies equally to all
political societies, ancient and modern. Hobbes objected, for example, to the fact that Plato and other ancient
philosophers, instead of letting good and evil be defined by the civil law, defined them according to their own
taste, thus encouraging everyone to judge for himself in such matters, ―to the subversion of commonwealth.‖
(Leviathan xlvi, Hobbes 1994, pp. 456-7) Consider also that when Hobbes raises the question ―what is law?‖
he remarks that he is doing what ―Plato, Aristotle, Cicero, and divers others have done‖ (Leviathan xxvi,
Hobbes 1994, p. 173, italics in original): the basic questions of political philosophy remain the same. On this
very issue, namely whether the basic questions remain the same, Collingwood and Hobbes contradict each
other. Who is right? By raising this question, we have already begun to doubt Collingwood‘s position.
27
means that if we desire to free ourselves from the conventional assumptions of our time and
place, we are not thrown back upon our own poor selves. We need not attempt the desperate
and in the end impossible act of creating ourselves out of nothing, with no substantive
guidance from the experience and wisdom of the past. We gain strength from the awareness
that a given problem which baffles us today has been confronted before by others—some of
whom, in their humanity, have left us a record of their actions and their reasons. Suppose
that a republican citizen today is distressed by the excessive political influence of the
wealthy and powerful.
If he has not been trained to deny the existence of perennial
problems and to assume that our current situation is wholly unprecedented, he cannot fail to
notice that past thinkers have reflected on this same problem. He can then consider what
kinds of remedies they have recommended and what kinds they have warned against, and
according to what criteria.48
He will not expect that those remedies can be applied
immediately and mechanically to the present, for he is aware that circumstances have
changed.
But he can try to make the necessary adjustments by reasoning about the
similarities and differences between the examples cited by past thinkers and the examples
which are before his own eyes. Or suppose that he observes a statesman of extraordinary
virtue being treated badly and ungratefully by the public. The statesman and his partisans
may be indignant, but the citizen who is alive to the perennial problems may be less so, if he
has learned from a past thinker that not only is a certain amount of popular ingratitude to be
expected in every republic, but that it may even, in many cases, help to preserve that
republic‘s liberty.49 Suppose, again, that a general, distinguished for his humane treatment
of his soldiers, finds that those very soldiers are lax in carrying out his orders. If he is aware
that this problem has been discussed by past thinkers, he can turn to them for help in
48
See for instance Discorsi I. 37, 55.
49
Discorsi I. 29.
28
considering whether he ought not to care somewhat less about making himself loved and
somewhat more about making himself feared, lest he repeat the error of Scipio, whose
armies in Spain rebelled because of his excessive compassion.50 To deny the existence of
perennial problems, in short, is to cut oneself off from a primary source of political prudence
and understanding.
There is no guarantee that past thinkers have offered the best solutions to the
perennial problems. If their solutions prove to be inadequate, one will have to seek new
ones. Even if some of their solutions remain in principle valid, the task of applying those
solutions to changed circumstances may be enormous. Applying old solutions and, when
necessary, inventing new ones call for the full employment of man‘s creativity, or to use a
Machiavellian term, of his ingegno. Man is not condemned to repeat the past; he may be
able to improve on it—but only if he first recognizes its relevance.51 Machiavelli, a great
innovator and a friend of innovation, is a prime example of the belief that improvement
upon the past is possible. Yet his innovation, as we have seen, presupposes a continuity of
subject matter.
As to the variety of human things, whoever wishes to satisfy himself that a belief in
perennial problems can go together with a full appreciation of such variety should read the
Discorsi or the Principe. Machiavelli always reasons from examples, and those examples
are drawn from the broadest field. For him, a Turkish example may be as relevant as a
Christian or an ancient Roman one.52 He surely cannot be accused of parochialism. He
does not generalize about politics based merely on the experience of his own time and place.
He is fully aware that 16th century Italian politics is not Politics and the 16th century Italian
50
Principe 17; cf. Discorsi III. 21 for a somewhat more complicated treatment of the issue.
51
Cf. Discorsi I. 39, beg.
52
See for instance Principe 3.
29
is not Man. Indeed, he stresses the fact that his own time and place offers in important
respects an impoverished picture of human and political possibilities. Universal principles
of politics do exist, but they are accessible only through a combination of personal
experience and extensive readings which supplement that experience. 53
Machiavelli‘s
abundant use of examples shows his keen awareness that generalization which does not
remain in close contact with particulars is sterile.
Brought to life with a few vivid
brushstrokes, his examples are often as memorable as the universal principles which they
are meant to illustrate. The principle that one should free oneself from dependence on the
arms and fortune of others is forever linked in our minds to the example of Cesare Borgia;
the principle of cruelty ―well used,‖ to that of Agathocles.54 It is true that Machiavelli
sometimes embellishes his examples to suit his purpose. He avails himself, so to speak, of
artistic license. But artists are commonly held to be among the best guides to the variety
and richness of human experience. History is held to perform a similar function. Both art
and history are excellent correctives to philosophy‘s tendency toward excessive abstraction.
Works like the Discorsi or the Principe, with their abundance of historical examples,
sometimes artfully embellished, show how philosophy, history and art can be successfully
combined.
The question of whether there are perennial problems is not itself new. Even in
Machiavelli‘s time, there were evidently many who did not believe in an essential continuity
of things. He reports that ―infinite‖ persons of his own time read the ancient histories for
pleasure, but without thinking of imitating ancient deeds, giudicando la imitazione non solo
difficile ma impossibile; come se il cielo, il sole, li elementi, l’uomini fussino variati di moti,
53
Cf. the dedicatory letters to the Discorsi and the Principe.
54
Principe 7, 8.
30
d’ordine e di potenza da quello che erono antiquamente.55 In the view of these persons,
then, the world has changed so radically since ancient times that ancient examples are no
longer relevant. The explicit purpose of the Discorsi is to refute this view. For instance,
Machiavelli tells how Numa, the second king of Rome, used religion to persuade the people
to accept new ordini: Numa claimed that these ordini had been revealed to him by a Nymph.
One might suppose that while such a device may have been effective among the simple and
ignorant people of early Rome, it could not possibly be effective in more enlightened
epochs. Machiavelli replies that although the present-day Florentine people considers itself
to be enlightened and refined, nondimeno da frate Girolamo Savonarola fu persuaso che
parlava con Dio. And he concludes: Non sia pertanto nessuno che si sbigottisca di non
potere conseguire quel che è stato conseguito da altri: perché gli uomini . . . nacquero,
vissero e morirono, sempre con uno medesimo ordine.56
Here again we see that the
recognition of perennial problems or of a permanent order does not imply a contraction of
human possibilities and human power, but on the contrary, opens up the widest scope for
human action.
In asserting that men are born, live and die always with one and the same order,
Machiavelli means, at least in part, that men hanno ed ebbono sempre le medesime
passioni.57 It is the claim that human passions do not change that is the ground of the belief
in the existence of perennial problems.
This claim is not a metaphysical postulate but an
empirical observation: E’ si conosce facilmente per chi considera le cose presenti e le
antiche, come in tutte le città e in tutti i popoli sono quegli medesimi desideri e quelli
55
Discorsi I. Proemio (Proemio version A in Inglese‘s edition. In this thesis, citations of I. Proemio always
refer to this version. See chapter 3 below, p. 137 n. 50.)
56
Ibid., I. 11.
57
Ibid., III. 43.
31
medesimi omori, e come vi furono sempre.58
Based on such empirical observation,
Machiavelli asserts, for example, that while there are many different kinds of republics, in
every republic there are two basic passions or humors: that of the nobles or grandi, who
desire to dominate, and that of the people, who desire not to be dominated.59 One could
challenge Machiavelli‘s assertion by arguing that, to the contrary, empirical evidence shows
that human passions do fundamentally change from republic to republic, or from society to
society; even the passions of individuals are subject to change. Machiavelli would agree
that the passions of individuals are in some respects subject to change; the passions of
youth, for instance, are different from the passions of old age.60 He would also agree that
different passions flourish in different societies and epochs. The passion for liberty, for
instance, was much stronger in ancient Italy than in modern Italy. Machiavelli traces this
difference to a difference in education: modern education tends to suppress the passion for
liberty. Machiavelli rebels against this modern education.61 His very rebellion proves that
the passion for liberty remains, beneath the surface, as strong as ever. Education or society
can greatly influence the form and vigor of the passions but it cannot destroy or permanently
alter them.
The assumption that the passions can fundamentally change is politically hazardous.
In ancient Rome, after the expulsion of the ruling Tarquin family and the establishment of
the republic, pareva che fusse in Roma intra la Plebe e il Senato . . . una unione
grandissima, e che i Nobili avessono diposto quella loro superbia e fossero diventati
d’animo popolare, e sopportabili da qualunque ancora che infimo. It seemed, in other
58
Ibid., I. 39 beginning.
59
Ibid., I. 4-5.
60
Ibid., II. Proemio.
61
Ibid., II. 2.
32
words, that the nobles no longer desired to dominate. But this was an illusion: the nobles
were merely afraid that if they mistreated the plebs, the latter would support the return of the
Tarquins. As soon as the Tarquins were dead, the nobles returned to their usual insolence.62
The plebs had fallen into a trap: in supporting the nobles‘ war against the Tarquins, it had
helped eliminate the only force holding the nobles in check. In Machiavelli‘s own time,
Piero Soderini, head of the Florentine republic and of the popular party, thought he could
appease his aristocratic opponents, the partisans of the former Medicean regime, with
patience and goodness, non conoscendo che la malignità non è doma da tempo né placata
da alcuno dono.63 In the end Soderini was driven out of office, the republic overthrown and
the Medici reinstated. In both ancient Rome and modern Florence, it turned out to be a
dangerous delusion to suppose that the grandi could fundamentally change. It may be an
equally dangerous delusion in our own day.
The stubborn persistence of the passions, empirically observed, may be said to
underlie Machiavelli‘s belief in human nature or his naturalism. His conception of human
nature is not, however, identical to a classical conception such as that of Aristotle. Whereas
for Aristotle nature prescribes how the passions should be ordered, for Machiavelli nature‘s
prescriptions are less clear, especially as regards moral matters. It is necessity, more than
nature, which determines how men should act, and necessity is changeable.64 Machiavelli‘s
conception of human nature is in this respect much more flexible and indefinite than the
Aristotelian version. Occasionally he goes so far as to imply that as regards morality, man
62
Ibid., I. 3.
63
Ibid., III. 3. For Soderini as head of the popular party, see ibid., I. 52.
64
See for instance the use of the phrase secondo la necessità in Principe 15.
33
has no fixed nature at all; he can change his nature at will, as the decemvir Appius Claudius
did when he alternated between a good nature and a bad one.65
As regards the existence of perennial problems, Maurizio Viroli testifies to the
continuing plausibility of Machiavelli‘s position when he affirms—citing Machiavelli‘s
statement about men always having the same passions—that politics changes in form but not
in substance.66
question.
Viroli‘s affirmation implies a rejection of Skinner‘s position on this
It is therefore surprising to find that Viroli has allowed himself to become
infected by Skinner‘s post-modern skepticism. For elsewhere, Viroli claims that ―there is no
moral or political truth‖ and hence that political theory cannot be ―a philosophic search for
truth or a scientific enterprise.‖67
He attributes this view to Machiavelli himself:
Machiavelli‘s ―commitment was a commitment without truth.‖ He aimed to persuade, to
rouse to action; he was a rhetorician, not a philosopher; he ―knew . . . that the ideals he was
struggling and arguing for could be sustained in different ways, or redefined, or utterly
repudiated.‖ The ideals in question are ―political values such as liberty, justice, peace,
security, and greatness.‖68 Machiavelli, then, was committed to such values and even made
arguments for them, but did not believe that his arguments had anything to do with
establishing the truth. He admitted that others might, with perhaps equally persuasive
arguments, repudiate those values.
Viroli is right to draw our attention to Machiavelli‘s extensive use of rhetoric. But
he gives us no reason to suppose that his use of rhetoric is incompatible with philosophic
reasoning or with a belief in the truth. Rhetoric, after all, is not only an instrument of
65
Discorsi I. 41.
66
Viroli 1999, p. x.
67
Viroli 1998, pp. 174, 113.
68
Ibid., p. 95.
34
political struggle. Rhetoric is essentially a means of persuasion, and persuasion can be a
means of education, of education to the truth. Machiavelli, we contend, uses rhetoric both to
rouse to action and to educate to the truth; and often he says things that are not, in any
obvious way, rhetorical at all. In fact, Viroli‘s skepticism has no basis in Machiavelli. The
Machiavellian claim, accepted by Viroli, that men have always the same passions, is itself
intended as a statement of a politically relevant truth.
Viroli argues, however, that
Machiavelli does not use this claim as the basis for ―a scientific study of politics aiming at
the discovery of general laws.‖ Viroli is reacting against the attempt on the part of some
scholars to compare Machiavelli to Galileo: as the latter attempted to discover the
unchanging laws of the physical world, so Machiavelli attempted to discover those of the
political world. This comparison, Viroli says, is misleading, for the subject matters are
fundamentally different. Physical things may lend themselves to precise, mathematical
description; human things do not. The study of the human passions and of politics is by its
nature a very imprecise affair, full of conjecture and doubt; at best one may arrive at certain
tentative, disputable conclusions. Machiavelli, says Viroli, is well aware of these severe
limitations; he knows that ―[o]ther disciplines may hope to attain truth; the art he practices
does not.‖69
If the only kind of science worthy of the name is that defined according to the
criteria of modern physics, then Viroli is right that Machiavelli is not scientific. If the only
proofs worthy of the name are those that possess the precision and certainty of mathematics,
then in Machiavelli there are indeed no proofs but only conjectures. If general laws of
human behavior must be like general laws of physical behavior, rigid and allowing of no
exceptions and nuances, then Machiavelli rarely, if ever, tries to establish general laws or
rules. If the truth, in order to be the truth, must be indisputable in the sense that every
69
Ibid., pp. 63-7.
35
intelligent and well-informed person will agree to it, then Machiavelli does not claim to
teach the truth. But are these things so? Or is there not a solid middle ground between
conjecture and mathematical certainty, and is not this precisely the ground occupied by
political science or political philosophy? Certainly Machiavelli proceeds, in the Discorsi
and in his other major works, with a self-confidence hardly compatible with the view that he
means to offer mere conjecture. He is well aware, of course, that he is dealing with subject
matter that is inherently controversial. Thus he can say, regarding a certain question, that
credo sia disputabile because writers have defended both sides, and that considerato tutto
quello che gli scrittori ne parlano, sarebbe difficile giudicarne. He nevertheless proceeds to
provide the answer which he regards as true.70 The awareness that the great questions of
political philosophy are disputable and difficult never tempts Machiavelli to become a
skeptic or relativist. It does prevent him from becoming a dogmatist. It compels him
always to give his reasons, so that others may judge whether he is correct and may challenge
him with reasons of their own. He defines the golden age as that dove ciascuno può tenere e
difendere quella opinione che vuole;71 the golden age is not that in which everyone agrees
with Machiavelli. Machiavelli knows that he is not infallible and that his conclusions are
not indisputable. There is a great difference between this statement and the statement that
he does not believe in the philosophic search for truth.
As will appear in the course of this thesis, Machiavelli in fact believes he has
discovered the causes of many or all of the most important political phenomena, as well as
general rules of action which ought to guide citizens, statesmen and founders. To take
merely one example, Machiavelli argues that the preservation of liberty requires what he
calls ―memorable executions‖ (esecuzioni) of the insolent and the ambitious.
70
Discorsi III. 22.
71
Ibid., I. 10.
Such
36
executions should be few in number but ―excessive and notable‖ so as to make a strong and
lasting impression on the citizen body. If they do not occur regularly—as a rule of thumb, at
least once every ten years—men will lose their fear of the law and soon there will be so
many criminals that it will no longer be safe to punish them.72 It is perfectly plain that
Machiavelli is here stating what he regards as the truth, not merely a conjecture or a piece of
plausible rhetoric. Whether he is right is a question that must be of urgent concern to every
free society.73
In short, Viroli makes Machiavelli a rhetorician in order to save him from being a
philosopher. For a philosopher seeks to know the truth, but since, according to Viroli and
Skinner, there is no truth, philosophy is vain. Rhetoric is what remains when philosophy
has been discredited or when our normative concepts have become mere ―tools and weapons
of ideological debate,‖ when there is no search for understanding but only ―the battle.‖ This
accounts for Skinner‘s focus on ―rhetorical manipulation‖ as the primary source of
conceptual change.74
Whatever the merits of this attempt to replace philosophy with
rhetoric, it derives no support from Machiavelli, who believes that there are knowable truths
and who, as we shall try to show in chapter 3, employs rhetoric as a servant of philosophy,
not as a replacement for it. If Machiavelli‘s view appears out of date, we have it from
72
Discorsi III. 1.
73
Viroli endorses Machiavelli‘s view on memorable executions, implying that it is no less valid today than in
Machiavelli‘s own time. (Viroli 1999, pp. 90-91) Here as elsewhere, when Viroli comes down to specifics he
speaks what he himself regards as the truth. He does not really practice his own professed skepticism. Why
then does he profess it? He does so, we suspect, partly because he has been corrupted by Skinner, and partly
because he believes that professing skepticism will allow republicans to avoid charges of ideological
fanaticism or intolerance (cf. Viroli 1999, p. 101). But skepticism is not required for this purpose; ideological
moderation is not the preserve of those who do not believe in the truth. The real practical effect of skepticism,
over the long term, is to corrode the self-confidence of the moderates: ―The best lack all conviction, while the
worst / Are full of passionate intensity,‖ in Yeats‘ famous formulation. (Skinner‘s skepticism, too, is by no
means unqualified. For example, he is not skeptical, as we have seen, about the possibility of discovering
intentions, and he is not skeptical about the superiority of Machiavelli‘s conception of liberty.)
74
Skinner 2002, p. 149; see also pp. 175-187.
37
Skinner himself that it may be precisely such views which, on closer inspection, prove to be
of the greatest value.75
Viroli: republican patriotism
Viroli‘s distinctive contribution to contemporary republican theory is the central
importance he accords to patriotism. While the republican tradition is full of approving
references to patriotism, contemporary republicans, according to Viroli, have mostly ignored
it;76 Viroli aims to repair this grave omission. The omission, he believes, is grave because
patriotism is the principal spring of civic virtue and therefore of liberty.77 Of Machiavelli he
writes approvingly:
Patriotism was for him the soul of politics. When love of country does not inform it,
political action turns into the mean pursuit of personal or particular interest, or into
vain search for fame.
Only patriotism gives the motivation, the strength, the
wisdom, and the restraint that true politics requires.78
Today, in intellectual circles at least, this point of view seems to be out of fashion—and for
reasons that are not altogether bad. Patriotism sounds like nationalism, and nationalism, as
the 20th century has reminded us, can be a very dangerous thing. The notion of the patria is
highly susceptible of being abused by tyrants and others. Viroli and his Machiavelli,
however, argue persuasively for a distinction between patriotism and nationalism. They
argue for a patria that means above all a republic, not a commonality of descent and
language. They propose not an ethnic but a political patriotism—a republican patriotism.
This does not mean that patriotism can ever be purely political; it is also, of necessity, an
75
See the epigraph to this Introduction.
76
For an exception, see Pettit 1997, p. 260.
77
Viroli 1999, pp. 69 ff.
78
Viroli 1998, p. 174.
38
attachment to a particular place, people, set of customs, history.
To use a post-
Machiavellian term, patriotism is also cultural. Still, the political element is more decisive
than the cultural or nationalistic one. The republican patriot is loyal above all else to the
republic. Not even religious loyalties have a prior claim: Machiavelli famously said that he
loved his patria more than his own soul.79 A sign of the priority of the political over the
cultural and national is that in the extreme case (and Machiavelli never hesitates to call
attention to the extreme case), the republican patriot will even be willing to make war
against his native land and his fellow countrymen in order to save or restore the republic and
a vivere libero.80 His patriotism depends on the ability to distinguish not only between ―us‖
and ―them‖ but between a vivere libero and its corruption. It is therefore a patriotism which
can never be thoughtless or uncritical. Still, it always remains the love of one patria over
others; it always remains the love of ―my country‖ rather than of the whole human race.
Viroli makes no apologies for this particularism. For even in an epoch of globalization, the
patria remains the indispensable medium between the individual and humanity as a whole:
to help humanity, the best way to begin is by helping one‘s own country. 81 For Viroli there
is no necessary conflict between patriotism, or the interest of one‘s own country, and the
interest of all countries. As we shall see in chapter 2, Machiavelli‘s view is somewhat more
complicated.
For Viroli‘s Machiavelli, patriotism is so important because it is ―the passion which
drives citizens to put the common good before personal and particular interests.‖ It is ―a
charitable love of the common good of the republic.‖82 Without it, the common good cannot
79
Ibid., p. 152, citing Machiavelli‘s letter to Vettori of 16 April 1527.
80
Viroli 1998, p. 162, referring to the case of Rinaldo degli Albizzi in Istorie Fiorentine V. 8.
81
Viroli 1999, p. 76.
82
Viroli 1998, p. 156.
39
be achieved. We shall have to examine in the course of this thesis how far Machiavelli
relies upon patriotism or love of the common good, and how far he relies upon other
motives. Certainly he emphasizes that even the Roman republic in its prime, at a great crisis
of its fate, could not count on the patriotism of its citizens but had to make use of religious
fear.83
Pettit: liberty as non-domination
The distinctive contribution of Philip Pettit to contemporary republican theory is the
definition of liberty as non-domination.84 Pettit elaborates at length on this formulation, but
its basic meaning is simple. One is dominated insofar as one has a master (dominus); one
enjoys non-domination insofar as one has no such master. To have a master or to be a slave
means to be subject to the arbitrary will of someone or something else (i.e. of an individual
or a collectivity); arbitrary means operating without consideration of one‘s interests and
opinions. Not to have a master means to have protection—for instance, the protection of the
law—against such an arbitrary will or against arbitrary interference in one‘s affairs.85
Pettit believes that liberty as non-domination has in our time been eclipsed by liberty
as non-interference. These two definitions are not identical, for there can be interference
without domination and there can be domination without interference. Interference can be
practiced in a way that is non-arbitrary and therefore non-dominating. Domination can exist
83
Discorsi I. 11 (the example of Scipio).
84
Pettit‘s definition has been accepted by Viroli and partly accepted by Skinner (see Skinner 1998, pp. 82-84,
with footnotes; Viroli 1999, pp. 29-41).
85
Pettit 1997, pp. 52-55. One could also raise the question, of course, as to whether someone is really free
who, even if not subject to the arbitrary will of another, is subject to his own arbitrary will, i.e. to his own
unreasonable will. That freedom requires a certain rationality in the will is argued in Pettit 2001. See
especially chapter 4 of that work, in which freedom is defined as ―discursive control;‖ a free person is one who
reasons together with others. In making this argument Pettit moves beyond a conception of liberty as merely
negative or instrumental.
40
without any actual interference: a master can choose to leave his slaves alone. Pettit argues
that whereas non-domination was the traditional republican definition of liberty, noninterference is the liberal one. Liberals seek to reduce interference; they are not necessarily
concerned with reducing subjection to arbitrary power. They are satisfied if interference is
very unlikely—if the master, presumably from enlightened self-interest, is very likely to
leave his slaves alone.86
Pettit‘s claim that liberals reject the principle of liberty as non-domination appears to
be directed mainly against liberal utilitarianism rooted in the thought of William Paley and
Jeremy Bentham and ultimately in the thought of Hobbes.87 Whatever may be true of
Hobbes and the utilitarians, however, it is surely going too far to say that liberalism a whole
does not define liberty as non-domination. Surely there has been from the beginning a
strong current of liberal thought which holds that the primary purpose of civil society is to
protect certain rights (especially life, liberty and property) not only against interference, but
precisely against arbitrary interference, i.e. domination. Pettit refers to Benjamin Constant
as an exponent of liberty as non-interference, but in the very text to which Pettit refers,
Constant says quite explicitly that liberty requires that one be protected against the arbitrary
will of others.88
Pettit (correctly) refers to Locke as an exponent of liberty as non-
86
Pettit 1997, pp. 22-3, 41-50.
87
Ibid., pp. 41-50.
88
Pettit 1997, p. 50, referring to Constant‘s lecture ―De la liberté des anciens comparée à celle des modernes.‖
In that lecture Constant says of modern liberty: C'est pour chacun le droit de n'être soumis qu'aux lois, de ne
pouvoir être ni arrêté, ni détenu, ni mis à mort, ni maltraité d'aucune manière, par l'effet de la volonté
arbitraire d'un ou de plusieurs individus. (Constant 1997, p. 593)
41
domination;89 yet Locke is commonly regarded as a founder of the philosophy which came
to be called liberalism.90
Regardless of whether liberty as non-domination is really more a republican
principle than a liberal one, Pettit‘s reaffirmation of this principle is helpful. Particularly
noteworthy is his emphasis on the psychological benefits of non-domination. To know that
one is not subject to the arbitrary will of another or of the state brings a freedom from fear
and a self-respect which form no despicable part of human happiness, although one tends to
take these benefits for granted as long as one enjoys them.
Pettit appropriately cites
Machiavelli‘s remark that quella comune utilità che del vivere libero si trae non è da
alcuno, mentre che ella si possiede, conosciuta: la quale è di potere godere liberamente le
cose sue sanza alcuno sospetto, non dubitare dell’onore delle donne, di quel de’ figliuoli,
non temere di sé.91 Moreover, Pettit is inclined to believe that the desire for non-domination
is universal.92 This means that the concept of liberty as non-domination is not merely
contingent or historical, as Skinner claims all concepts are. 93 Pettit deserves credit for being
the least skeptical of our three scholars; he surely does not try to reduce political philosophy
to rhetoric or ideological war.
The formula ―non-domination‖ captures something essential about what Machiavelli
means by a vivere libero. It is, however, insufficient. Machiavelli, like Pettit, aims to
89
Pettit 1997, p. 40.
90
The real difference between Pettit‘s republicanism and liberalism turns not so much on the question of nondomination per se as on how far that principle should be applied and by what means. For Pettit, the goal of
non-domination ―would support radical changes in traditional social life,‖ changes to be accomplished by the
state (Pettit 1997, pp. 47-8); liberals, insofar as they are by nature suspicious of increasing the state‘s authority,
would likely find this project a dangerous one.
91
Ibid., p. 71; Discorsi I. 16.
92
Pettit 1997, p. 96.
93
Skinner 2002, pp. 89, 177.
42
satisfy the desire for non-domination. But unlike Pettit, he also has a use for the opposite
desire, the desire to dominate. A well-ordered republic is one in which these two desires are
in active tension and conflict with one another. As we have noted, the desire to dominate is
characteristic of the grandi, the desire not to be dominated, of the people. The grandi and
the people are the basic parts of every republic, and tutte le leggi che si fanno in favore della
libertà, nascono dalla disunione loro.94 What Machiavelli means by this strange assertion
will be the subject of chapter 1.
Conclusion
The argument thus far suggests that while Skinner, Viroli and Pettit have made an
admirable contribution by asserting the continued relevance of Machiavelli‘s republicanism,
their account of that republicanism may be inadequate in important respects. In order to
answer the question of Machiavelli‘s relevance for republicans, therefore, one must
undertake a fresh study of his thought. At a minimum, one needs an adequate interpretation
of the Discorsi. This thesis does not achieve such an interpretation. The more we read the
Discorsi, the more we become convinced that it is the work of a great thinker, which as such
can be adequately interpreted only by another great thinker. At most we hope to shed light
on certain fundamental principles of this work, without claiming to be definitive. To this
end, a certain amount of close textual analysis will be required. The reader should bear in
mind that such analysis is always undertaken with a view to the larger question of the
meaning and relevance of Machiavelli for us today.
We began by suggesting that one should approach Machiavelli as a teacher,
as someone from whom one desires to learn. One may, in the end, disagree with him. But
understanding must precede criticism, and understanding is impossible unless one puts
94
Discorsi I. 4-5.
43
aside, for a moment, one‘s own strongest convictions and tries to see things Machiavelli‘s
way.95 His teaching on liberty and republicanism may be deficient in important respects,
but we cannot know what the deficiencies are until we have understood the teaching itself as
precisely as possible; otherwise what appear as deficiencies may be merely our own
misunderstandings. Indeed, if we give Machiavelli a hearing, we shall find that he has
anticipated all the obvious objections, and that he constantly compels us to deepen the
ground upon which we may wish to mount a critical response.
The plan of the thesis is as follows. We begin with Machiavelli‘s basic claim that
liberty is born of a certain kind of political conflict (chapter 1). That conflict proves to
derive a crucial part of its vitality from the exigencies of foreign affairs or the need for
expansion (chapter 2). While a republic may have no choice but to expand, expansion that
is excessive or imprudently managed is a leading cause of corruption. Corruption and its
remedies form the subject of chapter 3.
But can corruption always be remedied by
republican means? In considering this question we are forced to confront the princely
elements in Machiavelli‘s republicanism (chapter 4). Finally, we summarize Machiavelli‘s
relation to liberalism, and we raise some critical questions about his treatment of justice,
reason and friendship (conclusion).
95
Skinner 2002, p. 3.
44
1. Liberty from Conflict
A famous argument of Machiavelli concerning liberty merits reconsideration. Five
centuries after it was first advanced, it has lost none of its explanatory power, and it remains
as provocative as ever: its apparent resemblance to the conventional wisdom of the present
day proves, on closer inspection, to be somewhat deceptive. It differs in important ways
from familiar liberal approaches even if it has helped prepare the ground for them. Such
approaches could benefit from a fresh encounter with an author often said to have initiated
modern political thought. As Machiavelli himself says, perpetuation requires renewal and
renewal requires a return to the origins.1
The thesis in question is that political liberty derives from a certain kind of conflict.
In every republic, Machiavelli asserts near the beginning of the Discorsi, there are two basic
classes or ―humors,‖ the people and the grandi, and liberty is the product of the ―disunion‖
between them.2 This assertion is generally held to be one of Machiavelli‘s most original
contributions to political philosophy. What was original in the 16th century, however, may
now appear to be a mere truism:
practically everyone now associates a free society with
disunion, i.e. with dissent, competition, pluralism and the like. Indeed, it may appear that
today we have not only assimilated Machiavelli‘s insight, but have transcended it: whereas
according to him, every society is composed primarily of two contrasting groups, for us
society may be composed of an indefinite number of such groups. Moreover, whereas he
refers only to class differences, we include religious and philosophical ones as well. We
1
Discorsi III. 1.
2
Ibid. I. 4.
45
believe in freedom of religion and speech, and in the possibility of a multi-racial and multiethnic society: none of these beliefs is clearly and unequivocally espoused by Machiavelli.3
Our pluralism, in short, appears to be more sophisticated and enlightened than his. But
before we can be certain we have transcended Machiavelli‘s pluralism, we must be certain
we have well understood it. This chapter investigates the meaning of liberty and disunion in
the Discorsi, leading up to the suggestion that Machiavelli had a clearer grasp of the
fundamental problem than we do, and that our pluralism, if it is to be successful, needs to
remember his insights.
In order to understand Machiavelli‘s contention that liberty depends on disunion, we
must first understand what liberty means and why men desire it.
The case for liberty
In the Western world today, we tend to take liberty for granted: although we may
debate its precise meaning, it would never occur to most of us to doubt its goodness and
rightness. That a good society is a free society has become for us an article of faith.
Machiavelli cannot start from such a position. This is partly a matter of principle: essendo
bene ragionare d’ogni cosa,4 nothing is to be taken for granted, nothing is to be taken on
faith, not even what seems perfectly obvious because everyone believes it. Opinions should
be supported by reasons.5 Another cause of Machiavelli‘s inability to take liberty for
granted is that he is not writing in a republican age. The West today, as we have noted, is
3
He comes close to endorsing freedom of speech. Examining the reigns of the good Roman emperors, one
will see i tempi aurei dove ciascuno può tenere e difendere quella opinione che vuole (Discorsi I. 10). In a
republic, when a law is proposed, è bene che ciascuno sopra quello possa dire l’opinione sua, accioché il
popolo, inteso ciascuno, possa eleggere il meglio. Yet this arrangement is good only when the citizens are
good; when the citizens are bad it is pernicious (ibid. I. 18).
4
5
Ibid. I. 18 beginning.
io non giudico né giudicherò mai essere difetto difendere alcuna opinione con le ragioni, sanza volervi usare
o l’autorità o la forza. (Discorsi I. 58)
46
composed almost exclusively of republics and of monarchies which function as republics.6
When Machiavelli was writing the Discorsi, by contrast, monarchies predominated, while
republics were few and relatively weak. In Machiavelli‘s own Florence, the republican
regime had recently been overthrown by an army of the king of Spain and replaced by a
Medici prince. The renowned Venetian republic was in despair after losing a decisive battle
to the king of France, leading to the forfeiture of much of its Italian empire.7 As far as
Machiavelli could see, in the entire known world only the Germans and the Swiss possessed
a robust republican life.8 For the most part, and certainly in Italy, republicanism looked like
a lost cause. Anyone bold enough to befriend this cause had to make an argument; he could
not assume the superiority of republics to monarchies, of liberty to subjection, but had to
demonstrate it. It is not impossible that Machiavelli‘s demonstration planted the seeds for
the later revival and triumph of republicanism in the West. In any case, both his principles
and his circumstances favored a radical inquiry into republican principles.
According to Quentin Skinner, the Discorsi is the work of a ―theorist of liberty.‖9
Certainly from the very first chapters of the Discorsi, liberty is a central theme. In I. 1,
which treats of the origins of cities or political communities, Machiavelli distinguishes
emphatically between those cities founded by uomini liberi and those whose founders
dependono da altri. As to the latter cities, rare volte occorre che le facciano processi
grandi. He prefers therefore to ignore them, as he tells us at the beginning of I. 2, and to
consider only those cities whose origin was lontano da ogni servitù esterna, ma si sono
6
We follow Machiavelli‘s classification of all regimes as either republics or monarchies (Principe 1). The
Vatican may be said to constitute an important exception to the absence of monarchy in the contemporary
West, although the Vatican is no longer a temporal power strictly speaking. (For the papacy as an elective
monarchy see Principe 19, near the end of the chapter.)
7
Discorsi III. 31, Principe 12.
8
Discorsi I. 55, II. 2; Principe 12.
9
Skinner 2000, p. 54 (chapter title).
47
subito governate per loro arbitrio o come republiche o come principato. The first, implicit
definition of political liberty in the Discorsi is, then, freedom from servitù esterna. This
definition of liberty is broad enough to cover both republics and principalities (o come
republiche o come principato); no decision has yet been made between these two
alternatives. This definition is ambiguous because it speaks of external servitude but is
silent on the question of internal servitude. The reader is left to wonder whether there is an
essential difference between being ruled by an external power and being ruled by one‘s own
prince, or whether cities organized as principalities can really be said to be governed per
loro arbitrio. Much later in the Discorsi, in II. 2, Machiavelli will explicitly argue that only
cities organized as republics are likely to become great, for in principalities there is an
essential conflict of interest between the prince and the city. 10 Here, at the beginning of the
work, he only hints at this argument. His caution is perhaps not surprising: when writing the
Discorsi he was not a citizen of a republic but a subject of a principality (namely that of the
Medici). He had been imprisoned and tortured on suspicion of conspiring against this
principality. We may guess that he did not judge it prudent to begin the Discorsi by praising
republican liberty and condemning principalities.
If Machiavelli begins cautiously, he quickly begins to mix caution with boldness.
Discorsi I. 2, as we have seen, begins by supposing that cities may be free o come
republiche o come principato. But already at the end of this chapter, Machiavelli implicitly
redefines liberty as republican: speaking of ancient Rome, he refers to the termination of
kingly rule as the moment quando quella città rimase libera. Liberty now means not the
absence of external servitude but the absence of servitude simply. Machiavelli‘s main
theme now becomes the Roman republic. Beginning in the third and fourth chapters, he
examines the causes that kept that republic free—by which he plainly means free in its
10
il più delle volte quello che fa per lui offende la città, e quello che fa per la città offende lui.
48
internal constitution, free from domination by any one group or person. Without any
explicit announcement, republican liberty has quickly become the center of attention. As we
shall see, this mode of writing, in which a first statement is implicitly revised by later ones,
is typical of Machiavelli.
Machiavelli, then, is concerned with liberty; it remains to be seen what his reasons
are. They are not quite the same as our reasons. As Skinner points out,11 Machiavelli never
speaks of liberty as a right—whether natural, God-given, historical, cultural or otherwise—
whereas it is one of our articles of faith that liberty is a right. One may excuse Machiavelli
for this omission on the ground that in his age the concept of rights, in the modern sense,
had not yet been invented. But this only leads to the question, why did Machiavelli himself
not invent it? According to one opinion, he could not possibly have invented it because
concepts of this kind were impensabili e inconcepibili nella società in cui Machiavelli visse
e pensò.12 Prior to concluding, however, that Machiavelli as a thinker was incapable of
transcending his own time and place, we may wish to consider an alternative hypothesis:
that he did not invent the concept of rights because if his argument is true, such a concept is
neither necessary nor even, perhaps, desirable. The advantage of this hypothesis is that it
forces us to confront Machiavelli as a vital challenge rather than as a curious historical relic.
If liberty is not a right, why is it important or why is it good? The reason that
Machiavelli offers in the early chapters of the Discorsi is that only free cities make great
progress, processi grandi. One is tempted to say that this is the only reason that he offers in
the whole of the Discorsi. In II. 2, his most extended statement on this subject, he asks why
ancient peoples were so fond of liberty. The answer is easy to know, perché si vede per
11
Skinner 2002a, p. 211 and 2002, p. 51.
12
Sasso 1993, p. 511.
49
esperienza le cittadi non avere mai ampliato né di dominio né di ricchezza se non mentre
sono state in libertà. He asks us to consider a quanta grandezza venne Roma poi che la si
liberò da’ suoi Re. And he affirms that tutte le terre e le provincie che vivono libere, in ogni
parte . . . fanno profitti grandissimi. Dominion, wealth, greatness, profit—these are the
reasons why peoples love liberty.13 They love liberty not so much for its own sake as for the
benefits it brings. They love liberty because they love to acquire. In another chapter of the
Discorsi Machiavelli explains that well-ordered republics can ―acquire the world‖
(acquistare il mondo),14 and in the Prince he lays down the principle that [è] cosa
veramente molto naturale e ordinaria desiderare di acquistare.15 The very natural and
ordinary desire to acquire explains, in large part, the desire for liberty. We must try to
understand how Machiavelli can conceive of liberty as a means to acquisition, if of
acquisition broadly conceived (to include dominion or empire).
Machiavelli‘s instrumental view of liberty will be unacceptable to many, especially
to philosophically-minded persons who identify liberty with creativity, self-realization,
authenticity and the like and therefore conceive of it as an end in itself. To reduce liberty to
a mere means, especially a means to such vulgar ends as wealth and dominion, would
according to such persons be the height of superficiality. On the other hand, Machiavelli‘s
view should attract the sympathy of businessmen, for whom liberty means precisely the
unrestricted freedom to pursue wealth and dominion (or ―market share‖).
From a
Machiavellian perspective, businessmen know something about political life that escapes the
notice of the philosophically-minded. Indeed, it appears that a political community as
Machiavelli understands it is not unlike a business. It certainly aims to make a profit; even
13
Cf. Tarcov 2007, p. 137.
14
Discorsi I. 20.
15
Principe 3.
50
war, or especially war, should be conducted in such a way as to be profitable. 16 In support
of the comparison between politics and business, it may be observed that what the
businessman of today calls ―growth,‖ ―mergers and acquisitions‖ (including ―hostile
takeovers‖), ―strategic alliances,‖ ―competition‖ and so on are phenomena that have obvious
counterparts in the politico-military sphere. One may object that this analogy is repulsive
because it reduces patriotism to love of gain and the citizen to a hired worker. Political
communities inspire deep sentiments of devotion and loyalty; men will die for their country
but not for a business. Machiavelli himself insists on the distinction between the citizensoldier and the mercenary.17 Yet it must be admitted that a business, too, is capable of
inspiring devotion and loyalty in proportion to its power to benefit. In the Istorie fiorentine,
Machiavelli tells the story of the Banco di San Giorgio, a private bank which lent money to
the Comune (i.e. the government) of the republic of Genoa. As collateral for the loans, the
Comune gradually gave the bank control over various income-producing lands within the
Genoese empire. So well and impartially did the bank administer these lands that the
Genoese citizens came to love it more than they loved the Comune itself.18
It is true that businesses are typically organized on monarchical rather than
republican principles. There may be, however, a republican element in the form of a board
of directors. (The Banco di San Giorgio, Machiavelli says, organized itself as a kind of
republic, establishing a council of one hundred persons che le cose publiche deliberasse.)
Private businesses can afford to be as monarchical as they are because they are protected by
the laws of the political community. Without such protection, they would be compelled to
become political communities themselves, in which case, if Machiavelli‘s general argument
16
Discorsi II. 6.
17
See, for instance, Discorsi I. 43.
18
Istorie fiorentine, VIII. 29.
51
is correct, they would make greater progress if organized as republics. The development of
a business into a political entity is not merely a theoretical possibility, as is shown by the
example, again, of the Banco di San Giorgio, which eventually came to be so powerful,
avendo arme e danari e governo, that the Comune did not dare interfere with its authority.
Machiavelli predicts that one day San Giorgio will become the sole political power in Genoa
and that when it does, that city will be a more memorable republic than the Venetian one.19
All of this is not to deny that politics is grander and more glorious than business.
But the centrality of acquisition in Machiavelli‘s account implies that there is no radical
distinction between the two spheres. The ends, the talents and the passions which are found
in the political sphere must already be present, if in a smaller and narrower form, in the
economic one. In Discorsi II. 2, the chapter in which Machiavelli gives his most extended
justification of republican liberty, he refers approvingly to a certain work of Xenophon. In
another work of Xenophon, the Memorabilia, there is a passage in which Socrates takes up
the question as to whether a businessman may be qualified to be a general. To the surprise
of his interlocutor, a war veteran who despises those who know only about how to make
money, Socrates answers this question in the affirmative. For although the businessman
may know nothing of war, he knows how to hire the appropriate experts; he knows how to
manage and motivate them; and because he knows that victory is profitable and defeat is
costly, he will do everything necessary to avoid the one and obtain the other. Socrates
concludes that one should not despise the businessmen (oikonomikoi), for the difference
between public and private affairs is but a difference of more and less. In both cases,
success depends on knowing how to manage human beings. Whether or not Machiavelli
knew the Memorabilia, his view seems to be in harmony with Socrates‘ argument in this
19
Ibid.
52
passage.20 For Machiavelli, politics, like economics, is driven by acquisitiveness and can be
successfully practised by acquisitive men.
As for those who regard this conception of
politics as undignified, Machiavelli would no doubt say that they are unwilling to face la
verità effettuale della cosa; they imagine a kind of politics that has never existed.21 In
politics as it actually exists, each person seeks to acquire glory or riches,22 and the same is
true of peoples and republics. In politics as it actually exists, creativity, self-realization and
authenticity either have no useful meaning or else are inseparable from the pursuit of the
ends just mentioned.23
A different interpretation is offered by J.G.A. Pocock, who suggests that for
Machiavelli liberty, or citizenship in a republic, is not a mere means but an end in itself.
Pocock makes this suggestion in commenting on a famous passage in the Principe, in which
Machiavelli explains why, after one conquers them, republics are so much more difficult to
hold than principalities. The reason is that the subjects of a principality are accustomed to
obeying and do not know how to live free, so it is relatively easy to transfer their obedience
to the new prince. Ma nelle republiche è maggiore vita, maggiore odio, più desiderio di
vendetta: né gli lascia, né può lasciare, riposare la memoria della antiqua libertà.24 For
Pocock, the powerful persistence of the memory of ancient liberty in a conquered republic
cannot be accounted for as the mere influence of custom and habit; there must be a deeper
20
Xenophon, Memorabilia III. 4. (Contrast Aristotle, Politics I. 1, 1252a7-16.) Strauss (1958, pp. 291, 293)
emphasizes the close relation between Machiavelli and Xenophon, while also indicating that there are
important differences between them.
21
Principe 15.
22
Perché si vede gli uomini, nelle cose che gli conducono al fine quale ciascuno ha innanzi, cioè gloria e
ricchezze, procedervi variamente . . . . (Principe 25)
23
Machiavelli‘s emphasis on acquisition does not, however, mean that he views it as simply good; acquisition
can be corrupting. We shall discuss this problem in chapter 3 below.
24
Principe 5 end.
53
reason. Pocock suspects that ―even for Machiavelli, men who have been citizens have
known the realization of their true natures.‖ The experience of liberty or of citizenship is
unforgettable because it is an experience of self-realization, since it is ―the end of man to be
a citizen or political animal.‖25
On this interpretation, then, Machiavelli turns out to be a kind of Aristotelian.
When he speaks of the powerful vitality, hatred and revenge of which republics are capable,
he is really implying that man is by nature a political animal. Vitality, hatred and revenge
are apparently the hallmarks of man‘s political nature. Now for Aristotle, man is a political
animal above all because he possesses reason, by which he perceives the good and the bad,
the just and the unjust. It is the shared perception of these things that makes a political
community.26 No doubt the possession of reason also makes possible human hatred and
revenge. But it is not to such ferocious passions that Aristotle looks to establish man‘s
political nature. He looks, rather, to the capacity for reason and justice. If Machiavelli is an
Aristotelian, he must be an Aristotelian of a very peculiar kind.
The real explanation for the vitality, hatred and revenge exhibited by republics when
they have lost their liberty is spelled out clearly in Discorsi II. 2. Cities, says Machiavelli
there, grow in power and wealth when they are free; they contract when ruled by a tyrant.
Non è meraviglia adunque che gli antichi popoli con tanto odio perseguitassono i tiranni e
amassino il vivere libero . . . . Non è meraviglia ancora che e popoli faccino vendette
istraordinarie contro a quegli che gli hanno occupata la libertà. In other words, just as
peoples love liberty because they desire to acquire, so they hate those who have deprived
25
26
Pocock 2003, pp. 165, 184.
Aristotle, Politics I. 2, 1253a9-18. Of course, for Aristotle, to be a citizen or political animal is not the end
of man but rather one of his two highest ends, and not the higher of the two (Aristotle, Politics VII. 2-3,
1324a29-1325b32; Nic. Eth. X. 7-8, 1177a12-1179a33).
54
them of the opportunity to acquire. They cannot forget their lost liberty because they cannot
forget the good things that liberty afforded them. In this reasoning there seems to be no
place for liberty or citizenship as the realization of one‘s true nature.27
One is entitled to wonder why, if Machiavelli thinks that man is by nature a political
animal, or that his natural end is to be a citizen, he does not say so. Aristotle says that man
is a political animal during his account of the origins of political life. The Machiavellian
parallel to this account occurs in Discorsi I. 2. In this chapter Machiavelli closely follows a
passage in Polybius28—closely, but not exactly. In fact, he ―appears to follow Polybius
closely so that the differences will become obvious.‖29 The most striking difference regards
nature. Polybius is emphatic that both the origins of political life and the various political
regimes are natural. Polybius uses ―nature,‖ ―by nature,‖ ―naturally‖ and related terms with
great frequency in this passage.30 In Machiavelli‘s restatement, all references to nature have
disappeared. As regards the origins of political life, instead of saying ―by nature‖ he says
―by chance.‖31
He also pointedly omits Polybius‘ Aristotelian remark that man is
27
Machiavelli also says in this passage that republics promote the common good, which could be understood
as a reference to justice. But he speaks of the common good not as an end in itself but as a means to greatness:
non il bene particulare ma il bene comune è quello che fa grandi le città.
28
Polybius VI. 3-10
29
Mansfield 1979, p. 35. For comparisons of Machiavelli‘s text with the Polybian original which stress the
differences between the two, see ibid., pp. 35-40; Inglese 2006, pp. 109-114; Inglese 2008, pp. 194-201; Lefort
1972, pp. 470-2; Sasso 1967, pp. 161-222; Sasso 1993, pp. 481-486, 501-6; Strauss 1958, pp. 201-2, 222, 280.
Felix Gilbert (1984, p. 158) remarks that Machiavelli ―did not scruple . . . to adjust Polybius‘ words to his own
purposes.‖ This true remark stands in some tension with Gilbert‘s subsequent assertion (ibid., pp. 158-9) that
Machiavelli‘s purpose was ―to clarify and to codify the principles which the ancients had followed.‖
30
A total of sixteen times, not counting phyein (―grow naturally‖) and related words (seven times). (It is
generally believed that Machiavelli did not know Greek and therefore read Polybius in a Latin translation. For
a different view, see Mansfield 1979, p. 35).
31
Nacquono queste variazioni de’ governi a caso intra gli uomini: perché nel principio del mondo . . . .
55
distinguished from the other animals by his possession of reason.32 In short, just when
Machiavelli has the perfect opportunity to assert man‘s political nature, he fails to do so.
Still, the fact that Machiavellian man is not a political animal in Aristotle‘s sense
does not mean that he is not a political animal in any sense. Machiavellian man possesses
desires that are intrinsically political in the sense that they can be most fully satisfied
through political activity.
When Machiavelli speaks, as he so frequently does, of the love
of glory, which animates not only individuals but sometimes entire republics,33 when he
speaks of the powerful desires to rule, to dominate, to command,34 when, indeed, he refers
to the capacity of republics for hatred and revenge, he is, in a way, treating man as a
political animal. To this extent, Machiavelli and Aristotle agree. The difference between
the two seems to be connected to the fact that Machiavelli emphasizes desires and passions
rather than reason and justice. Aristotle‘s virtuous political man loves glory only insofar as
it is just, reasonable or noble to do so; Machiavelli‘s virtuous political man is insatiable and
can be effectively restrained only by fear or considerations of expediency. 35 Aristotle
admits that desire in itself is unlimited but he contends that at least the better sort of men can
be trained to discipline desire so that they no longer even wish to have more than is proper.36
32
Polybius VI. 6.4.
33
avendo Roma per fine lo imperio e la gloria e non la quiete (Discorsi II. 9).
34
E questo appitito [sic] del regnare è tanto grande . . . (ibid., III. 4). In the nobles one will find desiderio
grande di dominare (ibid., I. 5). Some men desire liberty per comandare (ibid., I. 16).
35
la natura ha creati gli uomini in modo che possono desiderare ogni cosa e non possono conseguire ogni
cosa (ibid., I. 37 beginning).
36
Aristotle, Politics II. 7, 1267b3-7.
56
Machiavelli seems unconvinced that such training is possible; only external restraint, not
internal nobility, can reliably keep men within proper bounds.37
In associating politics with chance rather than nature, Machiavelli surely does not
wish to deny what he elsewhere strongly asserts—that there are observable regularities in
political life, regularities which are caused by the fact that men have always the same
passions, i.e. the same nature.38 He probably does wish to deny, as Sasso remarks, that these
regularities are as absolute and inevitable as they may seem to be in Polybius. 39 More
fundamentally, he probably wishes to deny that nature is reasonable or intentional.40 For
Aristotle, nature is somehow intentional: ―nature makes nothing in vain.‖41 The political
community is natural because it is required in order to satisfy man‘s natural needs to live
and to live well, where living well means perfecting oneself as a rational animal. There is a
kind of natural growth, and a natural impulse in each person, toward the political
community. This growth and this impulse are not, it is true, sufficient. Nature does not
37
Cf. Discorsi I. 42, regarding quanto facilmente gli uomini si corrompono e fannosi diventare di contraria
natura, quantunque buoni e bene ammaestrati as well as ibid., I. 3 on the cause that kept the Roman nobles
good—namely, not goodness but fear of the Tarquins.
38
Discorsi I. 39 beginning, III. 43 title and beginning.
39
Sasso 1993, pp. 484-5; see also Sasso 1967, p. 209.
40
Strauss 1958, p. 222. In Discorsi I. 2, the word caso is used, apart from the passage about the origins of
political life, on two other occasions; on both occasions it means the opposite of intentional, as for example in
the phrase, quello che non aveva fatto uno ordinatore lo fece il caso. Machiavelli may wish to imply not only
the non-existence of an intention in nature but the non-existence of any transcendent intention; Inglese (2008,
p. 195 n.14) remarks that the phrase a caso means, in part, indipendentemente da ogni ‘disegno’ di carattere
provvidenziale.
41
Politics I. 2, 1253a9; cf. Physics II. 8, 198b35-199a8. Polybius, in the passage under consideration, does
not explicitly say that nature is purposive. Machiavelli may nevertheless have chosen to interpret Polybius‘s
―nature‖ as essentially Aristotelian. He refrains from mentioning Polybius by name, instead referring vaguely
to ―some who have written about republics‖ as well as to ―some others‖ who have written about the same
subject—as though he wished his restatement of Polybius to be taken as a restatement of an entire philosophic
tradition (namely the Aristotelian one). He uses Polybius rather than Aristotle himself, perhaps because the
passage in Polybius is conveniently synthetic and compact, or perhaps because Polybius is an historian of
Rome, Machiavelli‘s focus in the Discorsi (cf. Mansfield 1979, p. 35). Machiavelli knew Aristotle‘s Politics,
as is shown by a reference to that work later in the Discorsi (III. 26).
57
produce political communities spontaneously, as it produces plants and animals. In order to
produce a political community, deliberate human action is required. 42 Still, this action is in
accordance with nature‘s purposes; it completes what nature cannot complete on its own. It
is this argument which Machiavelli seems to deny. Politics is natural in the sense that it
arises out of the natural passions of human beings, but it is not the completion of a natural
purpose. Man needs politics but nature does not provide for this need, not even by giving
directions. This ―metaphysical‖ disagreement about nature and chance is no doubt related to
the moral disagreement discussed at the end of the previous paragraph. For the directions
that, in the Aristotelian scheme, nature provides to man would seem to consist, in part, in
certain moral experiences—experiences whose meaning and authority Machiavelli calls into
question.43
Nature does not take care of man. Only human art takes care of man.44 Art,
however, serves the natural desire to acquire. Nature, then, still provides a kind of end,
though not a morality by which that end is to be pursued. Admittedly, by elevating the
status of art and demoting nature, Machiavelli may have made it easier for later thinkers to
conceive of creativity, self-realization and authenticity as ends wholly divorced from nature.
42
―By nature there is in all an impulse toward this sort of community [sc. the political one]; but the first
founder was the cause of the greatest goods.‖ Politics I. 2, 1253a29-31.
43
He does so most famously in Principe 15-19, but also in many other places. In Discorsi I. 2, Machiavelli is
willing to repeat Polybius‘ contention that once men began to form communities, they were led from the moral
experiences of gratitude and ingratitude to the knowledge of justice. But in Discorsi I 28-30, he will subject
gratitude and ingratitude to a critical examination in the course of which it will become clear that ingratitude is
frequently as natural, as necessary and hence as defensible as gratitude. Ingratitude toward its great men is one
of the things that can keep a republic free. (In I. 29 Machiavelli says that acts of ingratitude in una republica
non corrotta sono cagione di gran beni.) For Machiavelli, natural moral experience is essentially ambiguous
and this fact casts doubt on the providence of nature and of God.
44
Istorie fiorentine II. 1 (la natura non può a questo disordine supplire) and Arte della guerra VI beginning
(on the contrast between the Greeks and the Romans: in warfare the Greeks relied more on the natural
protection of sites, the Romans more on art).
58
Two Meanings of Liberty
Machiavelli says that all men or all peoples desire liberty for the same reason: to
obtain wealth and dominion. Yet he also says that different men desire liberty for different
reasons: most men desire liberty per vivere sicuri, while a few desire it per comandare.45
How can we account for this discrepancy?
The desire for wealth and the desire for dominion, though sometimes found together,
are distinct and are not equally distributed. All men and all peoples may desire wealth, and
all peoples may desire dominion over other peoples, but not all men, as individuals, desire
dominion over other men. A people, on closer inspection, may be divided into two parts: a
minority that wants to rule and a majority that wants to be left alone. While most men are
relatively content as long as their property and their honor, as well as the honor of their
wives and children, are secure,46 a few men find life intolerable unless they can indulge
what Machiavelli calls their appetito del regnare, their cupidità del dominare.47 Everyone
opposes tyranny, but whereas most men do so because they want the protections of the rule
of law, a few men do so because they cannot abide that only the tyrant should enjoy political
power and honor.48 For most men, liberty means primarily a freedom from (i.e. from
insecurity, domination, arbitrary rule), while for a few men it means primarily a freedom for
(i.e. for ruling, commanding or dominating). Machiavelli‘s conception of liberty is in this
45
Discorsi I. 16.
46
[Q]uella comune utilità che del vivere libero si trae . . . è di potere godere liberamente le cose sue sanza
alcuno sospetto, non dubitare dell’onore delle donne, di quel de’ figliuoli, non temere di sé. (Discorsi I. 16) E
qualunque volta alle universalità delli uomini non si toglie né onore né roba, vivono contenti. (Principe 19)
[G]li uomini quando sono governati bene, non cercono né vogliono altra libertà. (Discorsi III. 5 end) Thus
liberty is not merely a means to acquisition but is also a means to security for property and family honor (or is
identical to such security); it is a means to living without fear and, as we would say today, with dignity.
47
48
Discorsi III. 4 (spelled appitito in the text), III. 6.
Cassius to Brutus: ―What should be in that ‗Caesar‘? / Why should that name be sounded more than yours?‖
(Shakespeare, Julius Caesar I. 2 141-2.)
59
sense both ―negative‖ and ―positive,‖ depending on the case. It comprehends both the
―liberty of the moderns‖ (security from arbitrary interference) and the ―liberty of the
ancients‖ (participation in political rule).49
Skinner prefers to say simply that Machiavelli‘s liberty is negative, since it signifies
no more than being unimpeded in the pursuit of ―our various ends.‖50
What he means is
that for Machiavelli, liberty does not mean being free to pursue the good; it means being
free to pursue whatever good one may desire to pursue.
―[I]n a theory such as
Machiavelli‘s, the point of departure is not a vision of eudaimonia or real human interests,
but simply an account of the ‗humours‘ or dispositions that prompt us to choose and pursue
our various ends.‖ In this respect, according to Skinner, Machiavelli rejects Aristotle and
agrees in advance with the liberals (even though he disagrees with the liberals regarding the
necessity of civic virtue). Both Machiavelli and the liberals are concerned with securing
―personal liberty‖ which, again, means the liberty to pursue ―our various ends.‖ This
formulation, however, obscures the fact that Machiavelli gives primary importance not to
―various‖ ends but to two ends or two desires: the desire to command and the desire for
security. It is these two desires out of which a republic is constituted. In addition, Skinner‘s
phrase ―personal liberty‖ is suggestive of ―private liberty:‖ he leaves the impression that
Machiavelli, like the liberals, believes that the purpose of politics is to protect a private
sphere. But in fact, for Machiavelli, the protection of a private sphere is not the purpose of
politics simply, but only its purpose in the view of the majority, who desire to enjoy freely
their private possessions. The grandi have a different view. One is tempted to say that
49
For ―negative‖ versus ―positive‖ liberty, see Berlin 1969. (We have used the term ―positive liberty‖
somewhat differently from the way in which Berlin uses it; for him it refers to self-mastery and self-realization
and includes the notion of a ―higher good,‖ whereas we use it merely to refer to a liberty that is directed to a
specific activity.) For the ―liberty of the moderns‖ versus the ―liberty of the ancients,‖ see Constant‘s lecture
―De la liberté des anciens comparée à celle des modernes‖ (Constant 1997).
50
For this and what follows, see Skinner 2002a pp. 210-212.
60
liberalism becomes possible when one decides that only the view of the majority is to be
considered legitimate.51 One can then view all men as essentially the same and speak of
society as composed of ―individuals,‖ whereas Machiavelli, who views men as essentially
different, speaks of society as composed of groups or ―humors.‖ Whether one regards
Machiavelli‘s liberty as negative or positive, or both, is less important than understanding
his division of society into conflicting humors.
The Essential Conflict
According to Machiavelli, the desires of the many (the people) and of the few (the
great or grandi) are not only different, they are incompatible. For while the grandi desire to
command, oppress and dominate the people, the people desire not to be commanded,
oppressed, and dominated.52 Hence there is an inevitable conflict between these two groups.
How convincing is this argument? The conclusion certainly follows from the premises. But
are the premises sound? In particular, is it true that the grandi desire to command, oppress
and dominate the people?
Granted that the grandi are characterized by the desire to
command, why should this desire necessarily entail oppressing or dominating?
If to
command means to give orders, why not just and reasonable orders? Why should the desire
to command not satisfy itself through good government, rather than through oppression and
domination?
Even just and reasonable commands may not be pleasant to obey and may therefore
be experienced by the people as oppressive. Moreover, the just or reasonable course is not
always possible in human affairs: men must often be guided by what is necessary rather than
51
Perhaps it is Hobbes who takes the decisive step by starting from the principle that ―all men agree on this,
that peace is good‖ and by making the desire for dominion subordinate to the desire for peace. See Leviathan
15 end and 17 beginning (Hobbes 1994, pp. 100, 106).
52
Principe 9, Discorsi I. 5, Istorie fiorentine III. 1.
61
what is reasonable.53 Reflection on the power of necessity may lead to the conclusion that
commanding without to some extent oppressing is impossible. Above all, the desire to
command, like all other desires, is impatient of restraint: it will always tend to overflow into
oppression and domination. All men, and especially the grandi, are by nature insatiable and
no amount of training can make them truly moderate or just.54
Experience shows that the grandi always try to dominate the people unless they meet
with some external restraint. It is easy for the people to be misled about the grandi. For
example, in ancient Rome it appeared, after the expulsion of the Tarquin royal family and
the establishment of the republic, that the nobles and the plebs were joined in the greatest
union and that the nobles had put off their pride and acquired popular sympathies. This was
nothing but a deception, says Machiavelli: it was not love of the people that made the nobles
behave in this way but their secret fear that if they behaved arrogantly the people might not
support them in the war against the exiled Tarquins. As soon as the Tarquins were dead, the
nobles cominciarono a sputare contro alla Plebe quel veleno che si avevano tenuto nel
petto, e in tutti i modi che potevano la offendevano. The only effective restraint upon the
arrogance and malignity of the nobles had been fear. A new order or institution was now
needed which would produce on them the same effect which the Tarquins had produced
when they were living, and after much confusion and noisy conflict, the tribunes were
created as a safeguard for the plebs against the insolence of the nobles.
53
54
[A] molte cose che la ragione non t’induce, t’induce la necessità (Discorsi I. 6)
See pp. 55-6 above. Machiavelli goes so far as to say that that the founder and legislator must presuppose
that all men are bad and malignant, and that if this malignity remains hidden, there is a hidden cause (Discorsi
I. 3 beg.). Guicciardini (2000, p. 342) objects that this statement is an exaggeration, and maintains that men
are naturally more inclined to goodness than to badness. Now Machiavelli is well aware that men frequently
act in accordance with goodness, compassion, humanity and the like. He suggests, however, that such actions
have a selfish motive, for when they are not the effect of calculation (Discorsi III. 20), they are inseparable
from a desire to be loved (ibid. III. 21), or even from a desire to tyrannize (ibid. III. 28). Machiavelli does not
believe that men are devils, but he believes they are selfish, and he also believes that they are often more
malignant than they appear.
62
The full bearing of this example emerges when we consider its context.
The
example occurs in Discorsi I. 3. The previous chapter, I. 2, is the chapter devoted to the
origin of political society and to the various kinds of governments. This is the chapter in
which Machiavelli closely (if not exactly) follows Polybius; although he does not mention
Polybius or any other writer by name, he emphasizes that he is reproducing a traditional
doctrine, a doctrine of certain past writers who are regarded by many as wise. According to
this traditional doctrine, there are governments of one, a few, or many, and there are good
and bad versions of each: monarchy and tyranny, aristocracy and oligarchy, well-ordered
popular government and license. There is a typical cycle of these governments: monarchy
degenerates into tyranny, followed by aristocracy which degenerates into oligarchy,
followed by the good and bad forms of popular government and finally by a return to
monarchy. Here we are chiefly interested in what the tradition says about the movement
from tyranny to aristocracy and from aristocracy to oligarchy. Having overthrown the
tyrant, the aristocrats or Ottimati (―the best‖) govern according to law, postponendo ogni
loro commodo alla comune utilità. But when the sons of these Ottimati assume power, they
turn to vice and so bring about an oligarchy. At the end of this chapter Machiavelli affirms
that Rome passed through all the stages of this cycle. Turning the page to I. 3, however, and
reading of the deceit perpetrated by the Roman nobles, we see that in Rome the stage of
tyranny was in fact followed, not by a government of Ottimati, but by a government of
oligarchs pretending to be Ottimati. The stage of aristocracy, which according to the
traditional doctrine should endure for a generation, is missing.55 The traditional distinction
between aristocracy and oligarchy was a distinction between the rule of the virtuous few and
the rule of the vicious few, but Machiavelli in I. 3 distinguishes only between the few who
are restrained by fear and the few who are not so restrained; he tacitly denies the very
55
Inglese 2008, p. 202n3; Inglese 2006, p. 119.
63
possibility of aristocracy as traditionally understood. For gli uomini non operono mai nulla
bene se non per necessità: the aristocrats or Ottimati can be counted upon to be good (i.e.
dedicated to the common utility) only when they are moved by some necessity external to
their own moral characters. The term Ottimati, we gather, is but a fine name the grandi give
themselves in order to gratify their own pride and deceive the people. So little does
Machiavelli hold the Ottimati in reverence that in a later chapter he can cite with approval
the example of Clearchus of Heraclea, who in a certain contingency cut them all to pieces.56
Machiavelli also makes changes to Livy.
(Although Livy is not mentioned in
Discorsi I. 3, it is reasonable to assume his more or less constant presence in a work that is
entitled Discorsi sopra la prima deca di Tito Livio and that promises to discourse on the
affairs of Rome che sono da Tito Livio celebrate.57) When we turn to the pertinent section
of Livy, we find striking differences between his account and that of Machiavelli. Livy
indeed reports that the Roman plebs, after the death of Tarquinius, began to suffer injuries at
the hands of the nobles.58 But his language is mild compared with Machiavelli‘s: nothing he
says prepares us for Machiavelli‘s image of the nobles as venomous snakes who spit poison
and injured the plebs in every way they could. Not for the last time in the Discorsi,
Machiavelli corrects Livy. For although Livy is a primary source of information about
Roman history, he is not Machiavelli‘s only source of information about human nature.
Machiavelli has learned about the world not only through a continua lezione but also
through una lunga pratica.59 On the basis, presumably, of his own practical experience of
56
tagliò a pezzi tutti gli ottimati (Discorsi I. 16)
57
Ibid. I. 1 end.
58
Livy II. 21.
59
Discorsi, Dedicatory Letter.
64
the grandi, he can claim to understand the true nature of the Roman grandi better than Livy
himself.
The implicit rejection in I. 3 of the traditional notion of aristocracy contrasts
strangely with the endorsement of that notion in I. 2. It is unlikely that Machiavelli in I. 3
has forgotten what he wrote in the previous chapter.
It is safer to suppose that the
endorsement was provisional, ironic or rhetorical—that it was, to use the language of
Skinner, part of an ―oblique rhetorical strategy.‖60
This supposition requires further
discussion.
Already in I. 2 it is discernible, as we have noted, that Machiavelli‘s view is not quite
identical to the traditional doctrine which he there rehearses and which is based on a passage
in Polybius. For example, he indicates his disagreement with Polybius on the decisive
question of whether political society exists ―by nature‖ or ―by chance.‖ Yet he does not
make this disagreement explicit; only if one carefully compares Machiavelli‘s version with
the Polybian original will one notice the discrepancy. Machiavelli‘s break with tradition is
as quiet as it is profound: he proceeds in such a way that at first glance he appears to be a
traditionalist.
In accordance with this approach, he leaves largely intact, in I. 2, the
traditional cycle of governments, including the stage of aristocracy. Even I. 3 begins with
an approving reference to a traditional opinion, to something that all political writers (tutti
coloro che ragionano del vivere civile) have demonstrated. Nor does I. 3 ever explicitly
contradict what was said in I. 2; the contradiction occurs by way of a silent omission
(namely the omission of the stage of aristocracy). Not until I. 4 will Machiavelli explicitly
60
Skinner 2002, p. 80.
65
criticize a traditional or commonly-held view,61 a view held by ―many,‖ namely the view
that Rome was an inferior republic because it was full of domestic conflict. He will make a
novel defense of conflict as the source of liberty. Yet even his explicit criticism of this
commonly-held view and his novel defense of conflict depend upon premises which he has
presented as traditional. He is able in I. 4 to defend the domestic conflict of Rome as
necessary to liberty because he has shown in I. 3 that this conflict resulted from the
oppressive behavior of the nobles, behavior which he has presented as an illustration of a
proposition that all political writers have demonstrated (namely that all men must be
presupposed to be bad).62
Thus Machiavelli in these early chapters of the Discorsi
challenges traditional views while seeming to respect them; he is a subversive posing as a
conservative.63 It has been said that the Principe, ―[b]ecause of its formal resemblance to
old manuals Of Princely Government . . . was like a bomb in a prayerbook.‖64 That is to
say, its explosiveness was both concealed and magnified by its traditional form. A similar
principle may be said to be at work in the Discorsi.
According to Claude Lefort, the first scholar to perceive that the Discorsi is
characterized by an implicit critique of tradition or of authority was Leo Strauss.65 Strauss
was the first who properly connected the question of the meaning of Machiavelli to the
61
In I. Proemio Machiavelli explicitly challenges the common opinion that classical antiquity cannot be
imitated by modern men, but he does this only in order to promote a traditional opinion, namely the opinion
favorable to classical antiquity.
62
In effect, Machiavelli accuses the traditional political writers of inconsistency: on the one hand they believe
that men must be presupposed to be bad; on the other hand they believe in the possibility of aristocracy. They
fail to realize the full extent of men‘s badness.
63
Mansfield 1996, pp. 261-62.
64
J. R. Hale, cited in Hulliung 1983, p. 25.
65
Lefort 1972, p. 293.
66
question of how he wishes to be read, or to his peculiar manner of writing. 66 According to
Strauss, one will misunderstand Machiavelli if one overlooks the fact that ―he reveals his
teaching . . . only in stages‖ and in particular that he proceeds by means of ―first statements‖
and ―second statements.‖67 His first statement about a given matter is typically more
traditional or conventional, while a later statement about the same matter is typically less
conventional or more shocking. For example, in Discorsi I. 11, he praises religion as
indispensable to the well-being of republics and he says that Rome owed more to the
religious king Numa than to the warlike king Romulus. In I. 19, however, he implies that
Romulus is an example of an ―excellent‖ king while Numa is an example of a ―weak‖ one.
In I. 10, Machiavelli loudly denounces Julius Caesar as a ―detestable‖ tyrant; in I. 29, he
remarks in passing that Caesar in becoming tyrant was merely seizing by force what
ingratitude had denied him. In I. 59 he claims that republics are more trustworthy allies than
princes; in II. 4 and II. 13 he explains how the Roman republic systematically defrauded its
allies.68 And as we have seen, whereas in I. 2 Machiavelli appears to accept the reality of
aristocracy, in I. 3 he implies that aristocracy in the traditional sense is an illusion.
Through his ―first statements‖ Machiavelli wins the good will of his traditionalist
readers and makes it possible for them to tolerate, explain away or overlook his ―second
statements,‖ especially since the ―second statements‖ revise the ―first statements‖ only
implicitly. Writers in our own day do not generally use such a method: when they wish to
66
Ibid., pp. 259ff. Strauss is, of course, famous for his controversial claim to have rediscovered a philosophic
tradition of esoteric writing (Strauss 1952). Strauss‘s claim is severely criticized by Skinner; yet Skinner‘s
own belief in the existence of ―oblique rhetorical strategies‖ would seem to owe something to Strauss. In
interpreting Machiavelli, Skinner refers to his eloquent use of silence, to his irony, to his method of
dissembling his real opinion by scattering the parts of his argument and leaving it to the careful reader to piece
them back together—in a word, to his practice of what might well be called esoteric writing. (Skinner 2002, p.
71-2; 2000, pp. 42, 72, 96; 2002a, p. 207)
67
68
Strauss 1958, p. 43.
The ―first statement‖ about republics in I. 59 is more traditional than the ―second statements‖ in II. 4 and II.
13 because Machiavelli selected the Roman republic as his traditional standard or authority (I. 2-6).
67
challenge tradition or conventional opinion, they do so openly and explicitly. Machiavelli,
however, writing before the existence of modern protections for free speech, cannot afford
to despise all forms of dissimulation.
Even modern writers, especially in non-liberal
regimes, may be compelled to practice ―oblique rhetorical strategies.‖ Gerhard Ritter first
published his book on Machiavelli under the Third Reich. In the preface to the fifth edition,
published after the fall of the Reich, he explains that in the original edition he contrived to
avoid censorship by writing in such a way as to lead the authorities to assume that he was an
apologist for the regime, while conveying to the intelligent German reader, ―for some time
used to reading between the lines,‖ an exactly opposite meaning. Ritter, in fact, reports
using a method similar to that of ―first statements‖ and ―second statements:‖ he says that he
gave the book a title which appeared to express his full approval of ―power politics,‖ while
in the text he quietly exposed the demonic side of power.69
But Machiavelli‘s mode of writing is not dictated only, or even primarily, by the fear
of censorship or persecution. It also reflects a certain genuine respect for tradition and
authority, albeit a respect that is practical rather than theoretical. Machiavelli himself is a
strict rationalist: he makes an almost explicit statement in the Discorsi (though not at the
beginning of the work) that one‘s opinions are properly defended by reason rather than by
authority.70 But he knows that men in general cannot be governed by reason alone, for sono
69
Ritter 1958, p. 3. It may be noted that in Machiavelli‘s Discorsi, the title of a chapter is typically less
shocking than the body of the chapter (Strauss 1958, p. 90). As regards censorship, see Machiavelli‘s remark
in Discorsi I. 10 on the limitation on free speech under the Roman empire and on the oblique way in which
free-thinking writers overcame this limitation: since it was not permitted to blame Caesar, under whose name
the emperors ruled, these writers blamed his likeness Catiline and they praised his enemy Brutus. On
censorship in Christian times, see ibid. II. 5 which refers to the burning of the books of pagan writers by Pope
Gregory and other Christian leaders. According to Bertrand Russell (2004, p. 64), ―persecution of opinion has
an admirable effect upon literary style.‖
70
io non giudico né giudicherò mai essere difetto difendere alcuna opinione con le ragioni, sanza volervi
usare o l’autorità o la forza (Discorsi I. 58). Cf. the phrase essendo bene ragionare d’ogni cosa at the
beginning of ibid. I. 18.
68
molti i beni conosciuti da uno prudente, i quali non hanno in sé ragioni evidenti da poterli
persuadere ad altrui.71 Sound reasons are not always evident reasons; they are not always
obvious to the majority of men. The majority tend to follow authority more than reason. If
he wishes to be politically effective, therefore, a reasonable person needs the assistance of
authority. Such assistance may not be forthcoming, for authority is often hostile to reason,
as all history has shown.
Because of this hostility, reason is compelled to challenge
authority. Yet how can it afford to challenge authority, when, as has just become clear, it
needs authority? Furthermore, although reason is not strong enough to replace authority, it
may be strong enough to damage it, perhaps to no useful end. As Virginio Marzocchi has
noted, reason and philosophy can be dangerous to society because they create debate about
fundamental principles, whereas society requires consensus about those principles.72 How
then can reason challenge authority while respecting the need for authority? The solution to
this delicate problem, in Machiavelli‘s view, is to challenge authority in the name of
authority. Wise men who wish to introduce extraordinary innovations ricorrono a Dio:73
they attribute to God, i.e. to the highest authority, what they cannot publicly attribute to
reason.
Challenging authority in the name of authority is an oblique rhetorical strategy that
was not invented by Machiavelli. Socrates claimed that in refuting the pretensions of the
Athenians to wisdom he was merely obeying a divine injunction, transmitted to him by the
oracle of Delphi.74 Averroes maintained that philosophy and demonstrative reasoning were
not only permitted but commanded by Islamic Law, even though they might lead to
71
Ibid. I. 11.
72
Marzocchi 2004, pp. 8-9.
73
Discorsi I. 11.
74
Plato, Apology 21, 23b
69
conclusions apparently different from those of the Law.75
But whereas Socrates and
Averroes appear to be primarily concerned with justifying philosophy, rather than with
being politically effective per se, Machiavelli appears to be primarily concerned with being
politically effective and in particular with justifying political innovation: his wise man who
has recourse to God is an ordinatore di leggi straordinarie.76 This phrase may remind us of
the modi e ordini nuovi which Machiavelli himself, in the first sentence of the Discorsi, says
that he has discovered and wishes to bring forward for the common benefit.77 Machiavelli
does not, it is true, have recourse to God to justify his extraordinary innovations, but as we
have seen, he does have recourse to a high authority, namely tradition. Machiavelli as it
were attributes to the traditional political writers what are in truth novel Machiavellian
principles.78
Bearing in mind the problem of authority, we will be better able to understand the
importance of the conflict between the grandi and the people. Its importance is, at first
glance, rather puzzling. Having, in Discorsi I. 3, implicitly corrected Livy and the whole
traditional view by exposing the true nature of the grandi, Machiavelli might well be
expected, beginning in I. 4, to defend the rule of the people or democracy; instead he
defends a conflict between the people and the grandi, which is not the same thing. One
might reply that he cannot propose democracy because at the end of I. 2 he had accepted the
75
In such cases, Averroes holds that the Law and reason must be reconciled by interpreting the Law
figuratively rather than according to its apparent sense. Since, however, the apparent sense is the only one
intelligible to the people, the authority of the apparent sense must be carefully preserved in popular books.
(Averroes 2001, pp. 1-3, 9, 21, 26-29, 31-2) For an account of the Averroist background to Machiavelli, see
Rahe 2008, ch. 2, esp. pp. 56-83.
76
Discorsi I. 11.
77
Ibid. I. Proemio.
78
That the problem of reason and authority is the central problem of the Discorsi is the contention of Strauss
(1958, chapter 3). For many scholars, Strauss‘s whole approach is rendered dubious by his apparent assertion
that Machiavelli is a ―teacher of evil‖ (ibid., p. 9). Lefort (1972, p. 261) remarks that this phrase must be
understood avec prudence, as if to suggest that it is itself a kind of ―first statement.‖
70
traditional solution of the mixed regime, in which monarchy, aristocracy and democracy
each had its place. But now that the tradition has been overthrown or at least profoundly
modified, that solution can no longer be presumed to be valid. The principles of the good
republic must be sought anew. And it would seem that the good republic ought to be
democratic. For although Machiavelli said at the beginning of I. 3 that all men must be
presupposed to be bad, he in fact went on to illustrate this principle only with reference to
the Roman nobles; he offered no parallel illustration of the badness of the Roman people.
To leave no doubt that this omission was intentional, he now affirms, in I. 4, that i desiderii
de’ popoli liberi rade volte sono perniziosi alla libertà.79 No wonder that Machiavelli has
been regarded as a populist.80 Nevertheless, what he chiefly argues for in I. 4 is, to repeat,
not populism or democracy, but rather the utility of class conflict. He comes to the defense
of the Roman republic against those who blame it for being tumultuous and confused:
coloro che dannono i tumulti intra i Nobili e la Plebe mi pare che biasimino quelle cose che
furono prima causa del tenere libera Roma. The critics of Rome do not consider come e’
sono in ogni republica due umori diversi, quello del popolo e quello de’ grandi; e come tutte
le leggi che si fanno in favore della libertà, nascano dalla disunione loro. Liberty, then, is
the product of a ―disunion‖ or conflict in which the grandi, too, have their essential place.
We may well wonder why such a malignant and insolent class of persons deserves this
dignity.
One could try to solve the puzzle by assuming that for Machiavelli the grandi are
simply a necessary evil. It is not that they make any positive contribution to liberty, but
rather that they cannot be gotten rid of. One may cut them all to pieces; new ones will
79
80
Cf. Principe 9: quello del populo è più onesto fine che quello de’ grandi.
McCormick (2001, p. 311) concludes that ―Machiavelli advocates an unambiguously popularly dominated
republic.‖ See also McCormick 2003 and 2011.
71
always emerge. One can as little eliminate the grandi from the body politic as one can
eliminate a humor from the physical body. Just as there will always be persons who are
bilious or phlegmatic, so there will always be persons who are domineering and insolent. In
Skinner‘s words, ―the grandi we have always with us‖.81 Contrary to the hopes of certain
thinkers after Machiavelli, there will never be a society without exploitative elites. So the
only remedy is conflict: only through conflict, i.e. through popular resistance to the grandi‘s
projects of domination, can liberty can be secured.
The real meaning of conflict or
―disunion‖ is popular resistance.
This explanation, however, is insufficient. If the grandi are an enemy against whom
the people must be eternally vigilant—and this is undoubtedly the case—it cannot be denied
that the author of the Discorsi often gives aid and comfort to this very enemy. According to
Machiavelli‘s explicit statement, the Discorsi has been written in order to encourage modern
men to imitate the ancients in political matters—for example, nello ordinare le republiche.82
In I. 13 he provides, presumably for the benefit of modern imitators, an example of how the
ancients ordered their republics: he explains [c]ome i Romani si servivono della religione
per riordinare la città e seguire le loro imprese e fermare i tumulti. The chapter makes
clear that i Romani were none other than the nobles or the senate (―nobles‖, ―senate‖ and
―grandi‖ are synonymous terms83), who used religion to manipulate the plebs. They did so
not only in war, to give it hope of victory, but also in peace, to frighten it into making
political concessions. For example, they would use the appearance of prodigies to claim
that the gods were angry on account of the plebs‘ actions, or they would make sacred books
appear to prophesy that proposals favored by the plebs would bring harm to Rome, and so
81
Skinner 2002a, p. 200.
82
Discorsi I. Proemio.
83
This is clear from, for example, Discorsi I. 3 (end), I. 4, I. 5 and I. 6 (beginning).
72
on, with the result that the plebs, per paura della religione, would become more
cooperative. It is true that this chapter provides no evidence that the nobles were able to use
religion to oppress the plebs (as they had oppressed it prior to the institution of the tribunes),
and that in the final example of the chapter the use of religion produced for the nobles
nothing better than a compromise: while a law which they disliked was temporarily blocked,
the consular power (jealously guarded by them) was temporarily limited. Yet the fact
remains that through religion the nobles were able to avert or delay democratic measures.
Machiavelli concludes that la religione fece al Senato vincere quelle difficultà che sanza
essa mai averebbe vinte. We search the chapter in vain for any hint of disapproval of the
senate and its ―Machiavellian‖ methods, which bear a certain resemblance to the method of
the wise legislator of I. 11.
In dealing with the plebs and its leaders the senate sometimes had to use even
stronger medicine than religion. In I. 8 we read that Manlius Capitolinus, a war hero who
had not received the honors he believed he deserved, tried to curry favor among the plebs by
spreading malicious rumors about the nobles. In this endeavor he was very successful
([q]ueste parole poterono assai nella Plebe) and he was able to cause many tumults (dimolti
tumulti). The senate, alarmed, appointed a dictator who summoned Manlius to account for
his actions. The two parties met in public, il Dittatore in mezzo de’ Nobili, e Manlio nel
mezzo della Plebe. When Manlius proved unable to provide evidence for his accusations,
the dictator ordered him to prison. The moral of this story, says Machiavelli, is that while
accusations are beneficial to a free society, calumnies are pernicious. Manlius proved to be
a calumniator and not an accuser, and i Romani showed how calumniators ought to be
73
punished.84 Here too, i Romani, whom Machiavelli praises, are in fact the Roman nobles or
senate, that is, the grandi.
How is one to reconcile the malignant and insolent nobles of I. 3 with the skillful,
prudent and even praiseworthy nobles of I. 8 and I. 13? We would suggest that the latter are
no less malignant and insolent than the former. The difference is that now they are on the
defensive.
After the institution of the tribunes (I. 3), which resulted from the plebs‘
tumultuous protests (I. 4), the nobles can no longer hope to oppress and exploit the plebs
with impunity. At best they can hope to preserve their own position, increasingly menaced
by the tribunes. Through the tribunes, the plebs has acquired considerable authority; to
prevent it from acquiring all authority is henceforth the nobles‘ chief concern. Although this
concern is a selfish one, it has the accidental effect of promoting the public good and
preserving liberty. This may be seen most clearly from the example of Manlius in I. 8. In
opposing Manlius the senate intended to defend its own class interests which were
threatened by him and his plebeian supporters; accidentally it also defended the interests of
the plebs itself, which had been seduced by a demagogue and aspiring tyrant. The example
indicates that the nobles are, for some reason, less susceptible to this kind of seduction than
is the plebs.
Even the tribunes, so necessary to the security of the plebs and to Roman liberty,
soon grew excessively ambitious and came to pose a danger similar to that of Manlius. Here
is Machiavelli‘s account of the senate‘s response:
Essendo pertanto divenuta l’autorità tribunizia insolente e formidabile alla Nobilità
e a tutta Roma, e’ ne sarebbe nato qualche inconveniente dannoso alla libertà
romana, se da Appio Claudio non fosse stato mostro il modo con il quale si avevano
a difendere contro all’ambizione de’ Tribuni; il quale fu che trovarono sempre infra
84
Discorsi I. 8. See also ibid. I. 24 end.
74
loro qualcuno che fussi o pauroso o corrottibile o amatore del comune bene,
talmente che lo disponevano a opporsi alla volontà di quegli altri che volessono
tirare innanzi alcuna deliberazione contro alla volontà del Senato. Il quale rimedio
fu un grande temperamento a tanta autorità, e per molti tempi giovò a Roma.85
We note that while the intention of the those who acted against the tribunes was to defend
the volontà del Senato, their action giovò a Roma. In this case too, what saved the senate
from the people or their leaders also happened to save Rome from tyranny. We note also
that Appius Claudius, whose method of controlling the tribunes is praised in this passage,
was, as we are told elsewhere, uno crudele perseguitatore della plebe86—in other words, a
typical representative of the grandi.
Malignity and political virtue, it seems, are not incompatible; they may even be
inseparable. In his essay ―Of Goodness and Goodness of Nature‖ (in which he refers
emphatically to Machiavelli), Francis Bacon observes that while there exists in man a
natural inclination to goodness and benevolence, there exists also ―a natural malignity,‖ and
that while malignant dispositions ―are the very errors of human nature . . . yet they are the
fittest timber to make great politics [politicians] of; like to knee-timber [timber grown
crooked], that is good for ships that are ordained to be tossed, but not for building houses
that shall stand firm.‖87
Tossed on the stormy seas of political conflict, menaced by
implacable enemies, ferocious rivals and treacherous friends, the politician needs a certain
amount of natural malignity or he will not stay afloat. He will win few victories if he does
not keenly enjoy winning, which includes enjoying the fact that others have lost. (This is
85
Discorsi III. 11. Machiavelli draws on Livy IV. 48, but unlike Livy he explicitly includes corruption among
the methods the nobles used to win over a portion of the tribunes. Here as elsewhere, the Roman nobles are
more ―Machiavellian‖ in Machiavelli‘s account than they are in Livy‘s. The phrase o pauroso o corrottibile o
amatore del comune bene, in its blithe disregard of moral distinctions, is a small masterpiece of Machiavellian
wit.
86
Discorsi I. 40. Cf. ibid. III. 46 (gli Appii ambiziosi e nimici della plebe).
87
Bacon 1985, pp. 96-98.
75
not to deny that malignity usually disguises itself as something else, such as justice, even to
its possessors.) We believe that Bacon‘s view reflects Machiavelli‘s. The malignity of the
grandi, far from being an objection to their participation in political life, is an argument in
favor of it. The grandi are incorrigibly cruel, domineering and selfish: Machiavelli argues
that these very qualities can, under the right circumstances, redound to the benefit of the
community.
Each of the two basic political groups possesses its characteristic virtues and defects.
The chief defect of the grandi is their desire to dominate which, unchecked, will ruin any
republic—for it must lead either to civil war or to the enslavement of the people. The
virtues of the grandi are the virtues which not infrequently accompany the desire to
dominate. They are the virtues of those who are ambitious, proud and commanding. The
grandi, if they do not necessarily possess prudence, at least have the motive and the
opportunity to learn prudence. They have direct experience of political necessities and are
therefore more likely to be aware that, as Cosimo de‘ Medici notoriously said, states cannot
be governed with paternosters.88
Loving honor and glory,89 they have a motive for
cultivating the virtues through which honor and glory commonly accrue, especially courage
and skill in war—virtues without which a republic‘s liberty cannot be secure. In the Istorie
fiorentine we are told that the Florentine people, in its conflict with the nobles, committed
the cardinal error of depriving them of all share in public life, so that quella virtù dell’armi e
generosità di animo che era nella nobilità si spegneva, e nel popolo dove la non era non si
poteva riaccendere; tale che Firenze sempre più umile e più abbietto divenne. The Roman
people, by contrast, was willing to share power with the nobles, so that its members di
88
Istorie fiorentine VII. 6.
89
Though loving property even more (Discorsi I. 37 end).
76
quella medesima virtù che erano quegli si riempievano.90 In eliminating the nobility the
Florentines did not succeed in eliminating civil conflict, but merely opened the door to new
kinds of conflict, for instance that between the wealthy and the heads of the guilds, on the
one hand, and the poorer citizens on the other.91 For to repeat, there will always be grandi
of one kind or another. We see, however, that not all kinds of grandi are of equal value for
Machiavelli: a warrior elite is preferable to a merely economic one.
Machiavelli attributes to the Florentine nobles not only virtue of arms but also
generosità di animo, generosity of spirit.
It may not be obvious what he means by
generosity, for we no longer use the word in his sense, either because we use different
words, or more likely, because we lack adequate awareness of the phenomenon. Originally
the word meant ―of noble birth,‖ but Machiavelli distinguishes his meaning from the
original one by speaking of generosity of spirit rather than of birth. Later the word came to
mean liberality, but in Machiavelli it does not yet have this meaning. In his usage it is a
quality closely connected to courage92 and pride. Its opposite is vileness or servility. A few
pages before the passage quoted above, we read that the Duke of Athens, having made
himself tyrant of Florence, was suspicious of the nobles perché non poteva credere che i
generosi animi i quali sogliono essere nella nobiltà potessino sotto la sua ubbidienza
contentarsi; e perciò si volse a beneficare la plebe pensando con i favori di quella e con
l’armi forestiere potere la tirannide conservare. The generosity or pride of the nobles made
their obedience to the tyrant impossible, but the obedience of the plebs could be purchased,
90
Istorie fiorentine III. 1; cf. ibid. II. 42. See also Principe 12, on the military weakness of Italy as a
consequence, in large part, of the successful rebellions against the nobles in many Italian cities.
91
92
Istorie fiorentine III. 12.
The use of the singular verb in the phrase quella virtù dell’armi e generosità di animo che era . . . may
suggest a kinship between generosity and warlike courage (but we have not made a study of Machiavelli‘s use
of singular and plural verbs).
77
or so the Duke of Athens believed. In the event he failed to win over the plebs, but this was
plainly his own fault: he disregarded the basic Machiavellian principle that a prince, if he
wishes to avoid being hated, must abstain from the property and the women of his
subjects.93 Returning to the Discorsi, we note that Machiavelli speaks occasionally there of
the generosity of the nobles and of the senate,94 but never of the people. For while the
people may seem audacious when they are gathered together in an angry mob, afterward,
when tempers have cooled and when each one begins to think of his own danger, they
become obedient, or more precisely they become ―vile and weak:‖ as individuals, they are
the very opposite of generous.95
Generosity goes together with greatness though not
necessarily with goodness; even a malicious act (malizia) may be great and generous,96 and
the same is true of the executions (esecuzioni) which a strong republic does not hesitate to
employ when necessary.97 Like his virtù, Machiavelli‘s generosità may be said to be
beyond good and evil, morally speaking. Thus his attributing generosità to the nobles does
not mean that he accepts the traditional notion of aristocracy as rule of the best, i.e. of the
morally best (as in Discorsi I. 2). On the other hand, his doing so does mean that he cannot
be called a democrat.
93
Ma sopra ogni cosa quello che dispiaceva era la violenza che egli e i suoi, sanza alcuno rispetto, alle donne
facevono; Machiavelli also mentions le continue taglie con le quali impoveriva e consumava la città. (Istorie
fiorentine II. 36) For the principle which the Duke disregarded, see Principe 17 and 19 beg.
94
In I. 2, in his summary of the traditional cycle of governments, Machiavelli says that after monarchy
degenerated into tyranny, those who conspired against the tyrant were not the timid or the weak, but coloro che
per generosità, grandezza d’animo, ricchezza e nobilità avanzavano gli altri. See also I. 38 (la generosità e
prudenza di quel Senato) and especially II. 23 (the senate‘s admiration for the generous frankness of a defeated
rebel). (In researching Machiavelli‘s usage of generosità and generoso in the Discorsi, and in other similar
researches, we have made use of the valuable glossary in the Mansfield-Tarcov edition.)
95
Discorsi I. 57.
96
Ibid. I. 27 (Giovampagolo Baglioni, tyrant of Perugia, would have committed a malizia of this kind,
according to Machiavelli, had he eliminated Pope Julius II when he had the opportunity).
97
Ibid. III. 27 (the example of Pistoia).
78
The description of the people as ―vile and weak,‖ which occurs in Discorsi I. 57, is
not, of course, Machiavelli‘s last word. In the very next chapter (I. 58), he gives a ringing
defense of the people against its accusers, namely Livy and tutti gli altri istorici, indeed tutti
gli scrittori. All writers prior to Machiavelli, it seems, accused the people of inconstancy or
fickleness; he is the first to assert that the people is more constant and even wiser than a
prince. The traditional contempt for the people is based on a failure to distinguish between a
people that is free to act as it pleases (like the angry mob in I. 57) and one that is disciplined
by law. The Roman people was so disciplined, and as a result it was for four hundred years
amatore della gloria e del bene comune della sua patria. It is hard to say just how literally
Machiavelli wishes to be taken when he asserts that all previous writers wrongly accused the
people. He quotes a remark of Livy that is critical of the people, but later he says that Livy
was speaking not of every kind of people but of the kind that is unregulated by law,98 thus
leaving the difference between his view and Livy‘s unclear. He argues that the people is
wise or prudent on the ground that the people, when it hears two contending speakers of
equal virtue, generally chooses the better opinion and is capace di quella verità che egli ode.
Machiavelli does not, then, assert that the people can discover the truth on its own, but
merely that it is ―capable‖ of the truth that it hears from others. The people possesses a
certain measure of good sense that allows it to choose correctly between the alternatives that
are presented to it; but Machiavelli is silent about whether this remains true when the
speakers are not of equal virtue—i.e. when the better speaker defends the worse opinion. In
another chapter we are told that il popolo molte volte, ingannato da una falsa immagine di
bene, disidera la rovina sua; e se non gli è fatto capace come quello sia male e quale sia il
98
Near the beginning of the chapter, Machiavelli quotes a remark Livy makes while relating certain events that
took place in Syracuse: Haec natura multitudinis est: aut humiliter servit, aut superbe dominatur. Later in the
chapter he says: Ma quello che lo istorico nostro dice della natura della moltitudine, non dice di quella che è
regolata dalle leggi, come era la romana, ma della sciolta, come era la siragusana.
79
bene, da alcuno in chi esso abbia fede, si porta in le republiche infiniti pericoli e danni.
Here the basis of the people‘s becoming ―capable‖ of the right opinion is frankly declared to
be faith; the people is prudent when it has faith in prudent men or in their decisions. The
Roman senate, during its best period, contained a number of such men, and it also possessed
the means of producing faith: for example, on one occasion it made use of alcuni vecchi ed
estimati cittadini; la reverenza de’ quali frenò la plebe from certain ill-considered actions.
The senate‘s use of old and revered citizens is akin to its use of religion.99 To a certain
extent, the senate represents the rational and authoritative element in the republic, while the
people represents the believing element.
If Machiavelli, in claiming to defend the people against all previous writers,
exaggerates the originality of his view, his exaggeration nevertheless serves the useful
purpose of compelling his aristocratic readers to take the people seriously as a political
force. Within the well-ordered (i.e. properly conflictual) Roman republic, the people played
an active and indispensable part in securing the common good. It consistently elected
excellent consuls and tribunes100—if sometimes with the assistance, not always scrupulous,
of the senate.101 It held its place honorably, defending itself against oppression when
necessary, and when necessary obeying the dictators and the consuls. However fickle the
people may be in certain respects or on some occasions, it is ultimately the greatest source
of stability for laws and customs. In this respect, princes are far more fickle than the people.
99
Discorsi I. 53. In the next chapter Machiavelli indicates that the Florentine governing class lacked such
means of persuasion: in one instance a popular riot was indeed quelled by the presence of a revered man, but
this man was not a ―citizen‖ but rather a bishop who was present only by chance (I. 54). Modern politicians
are weaker than ancient ones because in modern times the chief objects of reverence belong to a non-political
group.
100
il popolo romano . . . in tante centinaia d’anni, in tante elezioni di Consoli e di Tribuni, non fece quattro
elezioni di che quello si avesse a pentire (ibid. I. 58). (―Not four‖ suggests three: the Roman people erred then
in three separate cases, or perhaps in one case when it chose three, or a trinity, which led to repentance.)
101
Ibid. I. 48.
80
Vedesi uno popolo cominciare ad avere in orrore una cosa, e molti secoli stare in quella
opinione: il che non si vede in uno principe. While princes are indeed better at instituting
new laws and orders, the people are better at conserving what has been instituted.102 A
republic without ―princes,‖ i.e. without an enlightened elite, would be rudderless, but
without a strong people it would lack an anchor.
There is no avoiding the conclusion that Machiavelli is something of an ―elitist.‖ He
is well aware, however, that every political elite is to some extent an artificial creation. He
knows that insofar as there are qualitative differences between the grandi and the people,
those differences owe much to education and circumstance. Prudence and generosity are
not, for the most part, hereditary virtues,103 and there is no reason why the offspring of the
people should not be capable of them. The same is true of the desire to dominate: although
this desire will always arise only in a few, there is no reason why those few should be found
only among the nobles. The conventional elite does not necessarily reflect the natural elite.
Thus it was not unreasonable that the Roman people should have desired to share in the
supreme offices and honors of the republic.104 Machiavelli is well aware of the truth
inherent in the democratic principle that all men are born equal. In a famous passage of the
Istorie fiorentine, he makes an anonymous Florentine plebeian say to his fellows, to
encourage them in their struggle against the grandi: Né vi sbigottisca quella antichità del
sangue che ei ci rimproverano; perché tutti gli uomini avendo avuto uno medesimo
principio sono ugualmente antichi, e dalla natura sono stati fatti a uno modo . . . . [S]olo la
povertà e le ricchezze ci disagguagliano.105 Machiavelli opposes a rigid class hierarchy
102
Ibid. I. 58.
103
For the superiority of education over heredity, cf. Discorsi III. 46.
104
Istorie fiorentine III. 1, Discorsi I. 60.
105
Istorie fiorentine III. 13.
81
because it prevents a republic from benefiting from the virtue of all of its virtuous citizens,
and because the people will not make great exertions for the common good if it is not
rewarded with great honors.106 One of the reasons why the population of a republic can
grow faster than that of a monarchy is that in a republic, each citizen gladly produces
children knowing non solamente ch’e’ nascono liberi e non schiavi, ma ch’ei possono
mediante la virtù loro diventare principi.107 Machiavelli does not propose to do away with
class distinctions altogether, for he believes that this is impossible and that attempting to do
so would lead to less virtue rather than more, as in the case of Florence after it eliminated its
nobles. He implies that certain kinds of class distinctions are not without their usefulness in
fostering certain virtues which, besides being admirable in themselves, are indispensable to
the common good. A certain kind of class education seems to be required in order to
achieve a government characterized by prudence and generosity. Yet class distinctions can
never be accepted as final but must always be contested, as the Roman people contested the
exclusive privileges of the nobles.108 If we understand things correctly, Machiavelli favors
neither a strictly class-based society nor a strictly meritocratic one, but a disputatious
mixture of the two. It may well be argued that what today is called ―democracy‖ is in fact a
mixture of this kind (though whether it meets Machiavelli‘s standards is another question).
Conclusion
As we have seen, Machiavelli speaks of liberty without speaking of rights. For us
today, by contrast, liberty and rights are inseparable; liberty itself is a right, or a collection
of rights. Our rights are dear to us, and no one, not even Machiavelli, is going to persuade
106
Discorsi I. 30 end and I. 60.
107
Ibid. II. 2.
108
Cf. Pettit‘s conception of ―contestatory democracy.‖ (Pettit 1997, pp. 183-205) Pettit does not appear,
however, to share Machiavelli‘s belief in the fundamental importance of the conflict between the grandi and
the people.
82
us that the concept of rights is dispensable. This does not mean that Machiavelli has nothing
to teach us on this subject. Rights are one thing, securing rights is another. Unless rights
are secured, they are useless. How, then, are rights to be secured? Assuming our answer is,
―through laws,‖ Machiavelli will ask us to consider whether all the laws that are made in
favor of liberty do not depend on the fundamental conflict which he has described. For
example, freedom of political speech is today held to be a basic right. But this right will be
meaningless if laws do not prevent the grandi from monopolizing the means of such speech
(e.g. newspapers and television). In general, the monopolizing tendency of the grandi,
which threatens the security or effectiveness of rights, can be checked only by laws
proposed by the people and their ―tribunes.‖ Yet without the counteracting influence of the
grandi, these ―tribunes‖ would themselves become a threat to rights.
Although Machiavelli does not speak of rights, he speaks eloquently of the desires of
which rights are a juridical expression, including the desire to be free from domination and
the desire to acquire. He could easily have developed a theory of rights had he wished to do
so. But to believe in rights he would have had to believe in justice: a right is a just
possession, a possession that others ought, in justice, to respect. Since Machiavelli regards
men‘s concern for justice as weak and unreliable, he prefers to ask how a beneficial result
can be obtained by relying, not on justice, but on motives that are selfish and hence reliable.
As we have seen, selfishness as he understands it does not exclude, and is even essential to,
the possession of outstanding virtue.
In this chapter we have ignored a crucial aspect of the conflict between the grandi
and the people. We have ignored the fact that, according to Machiavelli, one of the main
reasons why the Roman nobles were forced to make concessions to the plebs is that they
were forced to make use of the plebs in war. Rome was an expansionist republic that
needed a numerous and well-armed people; such a people will not meekly submit to
83
oppression and exploitation. We shall consider this aspect of the problem in the following
chapter.
84
2. The Problem of Empire
If Machiavelli‘s view of domestic politics—that it is essentially conflictual—does
not, at least at first glance, fall outside the range of acceptable opinion today, the opposite is
true of his view of foreign politics. For one‘s first impression is that he is a militarist and
imperialist.
Given that militarism and imperialism are today generally regarded as
illegitimate, what relevance can his view still possess?
In the first place, to say that
militarism and imperialism are generally regarded as illegitimate is not to say that they no
longer exist. That public opinion has barred governments from officially pursuing conquest
and empire does not mean that all governments have, in fact, ceased to pursue such ends,
nor that peoples have ceased to profit by them. If war and empire still form part of our
world, and if Machiavelli is a great analyst of these phenomena, then we can hope to learn
something from his analysis, regardless of what we may think of his recommendations.
But perhaps, contrary to first impressions, Machiavelli is not really a militarist and
an imperialist. This is the contention of the contemporary republican Maurizio Viroli.
Viroli admits that Machiavelli advocates a strong military and territorial expansion, but he
argues that this by no means entails an exaltation of war nor the conquest and subjugation of
peoples.
Machiavellian expansion is emphatically not predatory but proceeds through
alliances and liberal offers of protection. A policy of conquest leads to ruin rather than
greatness. A republic needs an army to defend its own liberty, not to take away that of
others, and it should expand through a desire for security, not through a lust for power.1
Thus there appears to be no reason why Machiavelli should not, on this subject as on others,
serve as a guide for contemporary republicans. Viroli succeeds in rendering Machiavelli‘s
1
Viroli 1998, pp. 138-143.
85
position acceptable, though at the price, we fear, of rendering it uninteresting, for it is hardly
distinguishable from today‘s conventional wisdom.
In fact, he has selected the more
pleasing aspects of Machiavelli‘s position while neglecting the harsher and more disturbing
ones. Mark Hulliung, by contrast, has rightly insisted on emphasizing precisely those harsh
and disturbing aspects. Hulliung argues, in fact, that one‘s first impression of Machiavelli
as a militarist and imperialist is entirely correct.2 But Hulliung‘s interpretation, too, is
incomplete. It does not grapple with the complexities and ambiguities of Machiavelli‘s
argument, including the ways in which Machiavelli not only advocates imperialism but also
questions it.
Machiavelli is well known as a student of war. The only major prose work he
published in his own lifetime was the Arte della guerra. Of course, being a student of war is
not the same as being a lover of war.
A soldier, especially a citizen soldier, is not
necessarily a militarist. As Machiavelli himself says, it is precisely the soldier who ought to
love peace, seeing that it is he who suffers from war. The motto of a general should be
amare la pace e saper fare la guerra.3 Arms and force should be used only as a last resort.
Moreover, acts of humanity and charity can sometimes be more effective in obtaining
victory than armed force.4 Still, military matters are somehow central to Machiavelli‘s
political thought.
One scholar has asserted that ―[i]t hardly goes too far to say that
Machiavelli became a political thinker because he was a military thinker.‖ 5 Certainly
Machiavelli sometimes gives the impression that the political is secondary to the military, as
in Principe 12:
2
Hulliung 1983.
3
Arte della Guerra I Proemio (Opere, pp. 301, 309).
4
Discorsi II. 21, III. 20.
5
Gilbert 1986, p. 11.
86
E’ principali fondamenti che abbino tutti li stati . . . sono le buone legge e le buone
arme: e perché e’ non può essere buone legge dove non sono buone arme, e dove
sono buone arme conviene sieno buone legge, io lascerò indietro el ragionare delle
legge e parlerò delle arme.
Two chapters later, we are told:
Debbe dunque uno principe non avere altro obietto né altro pensiero né prendere
cosa alcuna per sua arte, fuora della guerra e ordini e disciplina di essa: perché
quella è sola arte che si aspetta a chi comanda . . . .
Nor is it only princes for whom war is of fundamental importance: in the Discorsi we are
told that il fondamento di tutti gli stati è la buona milizia.6 The Roman republic,
Machiavelli‘s model, was a warlike and imperialistic one, as he makes clear briefly in the
Principe7 and at length in the Discorsi, as we shall see.
Nowhere is there a more striking contrast between Machiavelli and his contemporary
―republican‖ admirers than on the subject of war and empire. Whereas for Machiavelli this
subject is central, for Skinner, Viroli and Pettit it is peripheral.
Viroli, in his book
Machiavelli, does devote a few pages to Machiavelli‘s views on war and empire (about five
pages in a work of about one hundred seventy-five pages).8 But when he presents his own
political theory in Repubblicanesimo, he ignores war almost completely. In the chapter on
republican patriotism (chapter 6), the scholar and admirer of Machiavelli has the perfect
opportunity to say something about the military defense of the patria, or about the proper
role of the military in contemporary republics, or more generally about problems of war and
6
Discorsi III. 31
7
Principe 3.
8
Viroli 1998, pp. 138-143. See also Viroli‘s ―Machiavelli and the Republican Idea of Politics‖ in Bock,
Skinner and Viroli 1990, pp. 158-160. For Skinner‘s discussion of Machiavelli‘s imperialism, which is more
satisfactory than Viroli‘s, see Skinner 2000, pp. 82-87. In Pettit‘s Republicanism, there is a very short section
on ―external defence‖ (Pettit 1997, pp. 150-153).
87
peace. He has the perfect opportunity either to revive Machiavelli‘s views or to propose a
revision of those views to suit modern circumstances.
But he does not take this
opportunity.9 This, we would contend, is no accident. Viroli‘s near-total silence on war in
Repubblicanesimo is not an act of negligence so much as it is a reflection of a change in
thinking which has occurred between Machiavelli and the present day. This change appears
to be due in large part to liberalism.
The famous liberal Benjamin Constant observed that in modern times, commerce
tends to replace war; commerce is le but unique, la tendance universelle, la vie véritable des
nations. For commerce is now far more profitable than war, whereas in ancient times this
was not so. Chez les anciens, une guerre heureuse ajoutait en esclaves, en tributs, en terres
partagées, à la richesse publique et particulière. Chez les modernes, une guerre heureuse
coûte infailliblement plus qu'elle ne vaut.10 Constant‘s argument against war is not moral
but economic. Yet the two aspects are not unconnected. It is much easier to condemn war
as immoral when one‘s economic well-being does not depend on it.
The growth of
commerce and industry in modern times, favored by liberal doctrine, has made it much
easier to conceive of non-violent means of satisfying human needs and ambition. Whereas
in former times war was viewed as a normal part of the human condition, in modern times,
partly under the influence of liberalism, war has come to be viewed as an anomaly or an
atavism. In the natural course of things, it is thought, war ought to become ever more rare.
9
In L’Italia dei doveri, Viroli does refer occasionally to the virtue of soldiers and he speaks emphatically of
the duty to defend the patria (Viroli 2008, pp. 81, 98, 104, 147). Skinner in ―The Idea of Negative Liberty‖
(Skinner 2002a, p. 206) refers approvingly to Machiavelli‘s emphasis on the necessity of military service.
10
Constant, ―De la liberté des anciens comparée à celle des modernes‖ (Constant 1997, pp. 598-9).
88
It has become possible to hope for ―perpetual peace‖11 and to treat war as a very secondary
problem, a problem which may well be on the road to extinction.
One obvious objection to Constant‘s thesis, propounded in 1819, is that it has been
refuted by events.
Commerce has indeed continued to flourish, in accordance with
Constant‘s prediction; yet in the twentieth century there occurred the two greatest and
bloodiest wars in history, which seems strange if commerce rather than war is le but unique,
la tendance universelle of modern times. Nor does the twenty-first century, so far, offer
much comfort in this respect to Constantian liberals. After the invasion of Georgia by
Russia in August of 2008, a prominent Western politician (whom it is unnecessary to name
since he spoke for many) objected indignantly that ―in the twenty-first century nations don‘t
invade other nations.‖ He meant that such actions belong to the barbaric past rather than to
the civilized present. Nevertheless it is a fact that in the twenty-first century nations do
sometimes invade other nations. Besides, there are troublesome persons who would pose
questions like the following: is not international commerce itself often a form of domination
in which the stronger party enforces its economic advantages by war or the threat of war?
Does not all commerce, however just and equal in itself, take place after an initial division
of private property or territory which gives extraordinary advantages to some persons and
nations over others and which was probably accomplished with the aid of force or fraud?
For these reasons does not war remain the fundamental phenomenon?12
11
Kant, too, counts on the pacific effect of commerce. See the end of the First Supplement to his essay
―Perpetual Peace‖ (Kant 2004, p. 186).
12
Alexander Hamilton asks in The Federalist Papers 6: ―Has commerce hitherto done any thing more than
change the objects of war? Is not the love of wealth as domineering and enterprising a passion as that of
power or glory? Have there not been as many wars founded upon commercial motives since that has become
the prevailing system of nations, as were before occasioned by the cupidity of territory or dominion?‖
(Hamilton, Madison and Jay 2003, p. 51)
89
However this may be, it is not only liberals but also important predecessors of
Machiavelli who differ from him as regards the centrality of war. For instance, whereas
Machiavelli says (in the passages from the Principe quoted above) that good arms are more
fundamental than good laws and that a prince should cultivate nothing but the art of war,
Aristotle is highly critical of regimes like Sparta‘s that are primarily devoted to war and
military virtue. He leaves no doubt that war is for the sake of peace, because it is in peace
that human excellence and human happiness can best flourish. Machiavelli is less clear on
this point.13
Many of Machiavelli‘s heroes are captains and conquerors like Cyrus,
Camillus, Hiero, Hannibal, Castruccio Castracani and Cesare Borgia. His model Roman
republic has per fine lo imperio e la gloria e non la quiete.14 He criticizes Sparta not
because it cared too much about military virtue but because, unlike Rome, it did not know
the right way to acquire an empire.15
All of this does not necessarily mean that Machiavelli is a warmonger. We agree, in
fact, with Viroli that he loves liberty, rather than war for its own sake. But he is convinced
that liberty and arms are inseparable (the Swiss, he notes approvingly, are armatissimi e
liberissimi16) and he takes this thesis more seriously or elaborates it more comprehensively
than any other political philosopher with whom we are familiar.
13
Aristotle, Politics II. 9, 1271a41-b 10; VII. 14, 1333a35; VII. 15, 1334a40-b3; VIII. 4, 1138b14-16; Nic.
Eth. X. 6, 1177b9-12. It is said in Machiavelli‘s Arte della Guerra that a king should desire that each member
of his military faccia volentieri la guerra per avere pace (Arte della Guerra I = Opere, p. 308). But this
remark occurs in the context of a polemic against mercenary soldiers who stir up war for the sake of their own
profit. Machiavelli does not pass judgment here on a king who should himself stir up war for ―reasons of
state.‖
14
Discorsi II. 9.
15
Ibid. I. 6, II. 3. Cf. II. 19.
16
Principe 12.
90
The Context
Here as elsewhere it is important to consider the historical context, especially as that
context is described by Machiavelli himself. Machiavelli was a Florentine and an Italian at
a time when Florence and Italy were military weak and therefore at the mercy of stronger
powers: the French, the Spanish, the Swiss. The Florentine republic (in which Machiavelli
held office and which he had tried to strengthen by organizing a citizen militia) was
overthrown with ease by a Spanish army. Florence surrendered after news arrived of the
sack of the nearby town of Prato during which, as Machiavelli writes in a private letter, the
Spanish slaughtered thousands of men con miserabile spettacolo di calamità. . . . [N]é
perdonarono a vergini rinchiuse ne’ luoghi sacri, i quali si riempierono tutti di stupri et di
sacrilegi.17 This event could be said to epitomize the pitiful condition of Italy as a whole.
As Machiavelli summarizes things in the Principe, Italia è suta corsa da Carlo, predata da
Luigi, sforzata da Ferrando e vituperata da’ svizzeri.18 The experience of queste crudeltà e
insolenzie barbare19 helps explain the centrality of military matters for Machiavelli. It does
not, however, go to the heart of the matter. For there were contemporaries and compatriots
of Machiavelli—Savonarola, for instance—who did not take Machiavelli‘s approach. If his
contemporaries had agreed with him regarding the military question, Machiavelli would not
have needed to speak so emphatically about it. The context alone cannot fully explain
Machiavelli‘s specific reaction to that context.
Moreover, the relevant context is broader than Florence and Italy. Italian weakness
is for Machiavelli merely the most glaring example of the weakness of the modern world as
a whole. At the very beginning of the Discorsi, in the Proemio of Book I, Machiavelli refers
17
Letter (to an unnamed lady) of approximately September 1512 (Opere, p. 1127).
18
Principe 12. He refers to Charles VIII and Louis XII of France and to Ferdinand the Catholic of Spain.
19
Principe 26.
91
both to modernity‘s weakness and to the cause of that weakness: he refers to la debolezza
nella quale la presente religione ha condotto el mondo.20 He takes up this point again in
Discorsi II. 2, in which he asserts that men are less strong in modern times because of la
diversità della educazione nostra dall’antica, fondata dalla diversità della religione nostra
dalla antica. Modern men are weak, and this weakness is somehow due to la religione
nostra, i.e. to Christianity. Machiavelli is careful to add that it is not Christianity itself that
has made the world weak, but rather a bad and false interpretation of Christianity, an
interpretation secondo l’ozio e non secondo la virtù.21
Discorsi II. 2 is fundamental for our subject. Book Two of the Discorsi as a whole is
the book dedicated to the foreign policy of Rome, to the methods by which Rome acquired
its empire—methods which Machiavelli asserts are worthy of imitation by modern men. In
II. 2 he observes that the peoples that Rome overcame, especially in Italy, were for the most
part free peoples who defended their freedom with great obstinacy. Ancient Italy was full
of vigorous and well-armed republics. Machiavelli is unable to pay the same compliment to
modern Italy. In this respect modern Italy is typical of most of the modern world: modern
peoples, in general, love liberty less than ancient ones did. This is connected to the fact that
modern men are less strong and less ferocious, which in turn is connected to modern
religion. Perché, avendoci la nostra religione mostro la verità e la vera via, ci fa stimare
meno l’onore del mondo; onde i Gentili, stimandolo assai e avendo posto in quello il sommo
bene, erano nelle azioni loro più feroci. Machiavelli does not, then, appear to dispute the
20
As a result of either censorship or self-censorship, in another version of this Proemio (Proemio B in
Inglese‘s edition) religione is replaced by educazione. But Discorsi II. 2, as we have seen, makes it clear that
this educazione is based on religione.
21
Inglese (2008, p. 190 n. 7) calls this addition a considerazione prudenziale, i.e. a statement that Machiavelli
felt compelled to make in order to protect himself against charges of infidelity.
92
truth of Christianity,22 but he complains of its political effects. Pagan religion ordained
animal sacrifice pieno di sangue e di ferocità . . . il quale aspetto, sendo terribile, rendeva
gli uomini simili a lui whereas in our religion there is qualche pompa più delicata che
magnifica, ma nessuna azione feroce o gagliarda. Pagan religion beatified men full of
worldly glory; our religion has glorified the humble and the contemplative. Our religion has
placed the highest good in humility, abjection and contempt for human things; the pagan one
placed the highest good in greatness of spirit, strength of body and everything else apt to
make men fortissimi. E se la religione nostra richiede che tu abbi in te fortezza, vuole che
tu sia atto a patire più che a fare una cosa forte.
What is most notable in this famous passage is not the observation that Christianity
and paganism differ regarding worldly honor and glory. The passage is introduced to
explain, not why there is less honor and glory in the modern world, but why there is less
love of liberty. Accordingly, Machiavelli emphasizes not so much the fact that the pagans
esteemed worldly honor as the consequence of that esteem: erano nelle azioni loro più
feroci.23 The pursuit of worldly honor made ancient men ferocious and strong, and therefore
more likely to be free. Liberty needs ferocity and is undermined by humility. For humility
in the people allows wicked rulers, uomini scelerati, to do as they like, seeing that
l’università degli uomini per andarne in Paradiso pensa più a sopportare le sue battiture
che a vendicarle.24
Not passive obedience and resignation but ferocious resistance to
22
But see II. 5, which opens with a refutation of an objection to the un-Christian doctrine of the eternity of the
world.
23
24
Mansfield 1979, p. 195.
Cf. Discorsi III. 1: Saint Francis and Saint Dominic sono cagione che la disonestà de’ prelati e de’ capi
della religione [cristiana] non la rovinino, for they preached come egli è male dir male del male, e che sia
bene vivere sotto la obedienza loro, e se fanno errore lasciargli gastigare a Dio. Bacon remarks that
Machiavelli ―had the confidence to put in writing, almost in plain terms, that the Christian faith had given up
good men in prey to those that are tyrannical and unjust.‖ (―Of Goodness and Goodness of Nature‖ in Bacon
1985, pp. 96-7; italics in original).
93
oppression and a healthy spirit of revenge are the ingredients of a free society.
As
Machiavelli says in the Principe, nelle republiche è maggiore vita, maggiore odio, più
desiderio di vendetta.25 Machiavelli does not say that ferocity is the sufficient condition of
liberty, but he surely says that it is a necessary condition. A republic must embody the spirit
of the rattlesnake that warns, ―Don‘t tread on me.‖
Machiavelli‘s harsh critique of la nostra religione remains shocking even today,
especially for those who believe that Christianity and liberty need not contradict each other,
that there is nothing problematic about being both a good Christian and a good republican
citizen. For Machiavelli, a harmony between Christianity and republican citizenship can be
achieved if and only if Christianity is interpreted properly, i.e. secondo la virtù. In the
Principe he has provided a specimen of this kind of interpretation by retelling the biblical
story of David and Goliath. In Machiavelli‘s version, Saul offers David his arms but David
refuses them, preferring to go to meet Goliath with his own arms. Machiavelli asks us to
interpret this story as an allegory of the need for a prince to rely on his own arms. He does
not mention the fact that in the biblical text David declares that ―the Lord saveth not with
sword and spear: for the battle is the Lord‘s.‖ That is, Machiavelli omits that part of the
story which a more orthodox interpreter could use to teach a very different moral from
Machiavelli‘s, namely that one should rely not on one‘s own arms but on God‘s
providence.26 When in the final chapter of the Principe Machiavelli exhorts Lorenzo de‘
Medici to liberate Italy, he uses religious language to encourage him: God favors Lorenzo,
God is his friend, God has even performed miracles on his behalf. Yet somehow, in spite of
25
26
Principe 5.
The Bible emphasizes that ―there was no sword in the hand of David;‖ in Machiavelli‘s version David has, if
not a sword, at least a knife. (Principe 13 and I Samuel 17, King James tr.) ―Arms‖ in Machiavelli‘s usage
does not mean only tangible arms. In Discorsi I. 19 it is said that a prince should be armato di prudenza e
d’armi, which is to say that prudence, too, is a kind of arm. That a prince should rely on his own arms means
not only that he should have his own army but also that he should trust in his own prudence.
94
all God‘s miracles, Italy remains sunk in the worst kind of misery. It is clear that the actual
liberation of Italy will have to be performed by Lorenzo, or by another human being, rather
than by God. As Machiavelli expresses it, Dio non vuole fare ogni cosa, per non ci tòrre el
libero arbitrio e parte di quella gloria che tocca a noi.
Savonarola preached that the successful invasion of Italy by the French in 1494 was
due to Italy‘s sins.27 Machiavelli agrees that the cause was Italy‘s sins, but those sins were
not the ones Savonarola had in mind; rather they consisted in the policy of relying on
mercenaries armies.28 According to Machiavelli‘s interpretation secondo la virtù, to sin
means to sin against the necessity of self-defense, or if one wished, one could say that it
means to sin against God‘s wish that man defend himself since he will be defended by no
one else.29 The question arises as to why Machiavelli is so confident that his understanding
of sin is superior to that of Savonarola. The short answer seems to be that since Italy‘s
reliance on mercenary arms suffices to explain its vulnerability to foreign invasion, there is
no need for an explanation of the kind Savonarola offered. To this one might object that
while the proximate cause of French military success may indeed have been Italian military
weakness, that weakness must itself be understood as a punishment for Italy‘s sins: the
discovery of proximate causes by reason does not preclude the existence of remote causes
which reason alone cannot discover. But Machiavelli would retort that reason does know
the remote causes: the remote or underlying causes of Italian military weakness include the
27
O Firenze . . . tu guarda queste tribulazioni, che si veggano preparate, e cerca della causa, e troverai che e’
peccati ne sono la causa. As to the nature of these sins, Savonarola explains: O Italia, per la tua lussuria, per
la tua avarizia, per la tua superbia, per la tua ambizione, per le tue rapine e storsioni veranno a te di molti
flagelli. (Savonarola, Prediche sopra Aggeo I [Savonarola 1965, pp. 9, 21])
28
[E] chi diceva come e’ n’erono cagione e’ peccati nostri, diceva il vero; ma non erano già quegli ch’e’
credeva, ma questi che io ho narrati. (Principe 12)
29
To sin may also mean to sin against liberty. See Discorsi I. 7 beg. (quando peccassono in alcuna cosa
contro allo stato libero).
95
temporal influence of the Roman Church30 and ultimately the belief that ―the Lord saveth
not with sword and spear.‖
It is becoming clear that Machiavelli‘s interpretation of biblical religion secondo la
virtù amounts to a challenge to the orthodox belief in divine providence, a challenge
founded on a claim to possess true knowledge of causes. In other words, Machiavelli does
not leave it at arguing that orthodox religion may be true but should not govern political
affairs (as Discorsi II. 2 at first glance seemed to suggest). Nor does he concede that his
view and the orthodox view represent ultimate ends which ―contradict each other . . .
without possibility of rational arbitration.‖31 It is not the case that ―[h]e does not produce a
proof but rather makes a decision that one should not depend on God.‖32 Rather, he
attempts to refute the orthodox view through rational argument. According to the orthodox
view, God performs miracles; Machiavelli attempts to show that events commonly regarded
as miraculous can be explained through natural causes. For example, when he says that
mercenary arms are the cause of subite e miracolose perdite,33 he means to say that losses
which at first glance appear to be miraculous are in fact due to the inherent weakness of
mercenary arms. A miraculous event is surprising and irregular, but Machiavelli thinks he
can explain the irregular by the regular. A miracle is an event that baffles reason and
experience, but the easy French successes in Italy in 1494 were entirely in accord with
reason and experience. A later French king quickly occupied Milan and quickly lost it,
30
Principe 12 (essendo venuta la Italia quasi nelle mani della Chiesa e di qualche republica, ed essendo quelli
preti e quelli altri cittadini usi a non conoscere arme, cominciorno a soldare forestieri)
31
Berlin 1980, p. 74. See also ibid. p. 71.
32
Mansfield 1996, p. 48. Mansfield goes on to suggest that for Machiavelli the practical success of his antibiblical project will be a kind of proof of his argument. This may be so, but it is not the only kind of proof he
desires to offer.
33
Principe 12. Cf. Discorsi II. 30 end, where he says that because of the weakness of modern republics, one
sees ogni dì miracolose perdite e miracolosi acquisti.
96
another seemingly miraculous turn of events; but Machiavelli explains that what happened
was entirely due to the king‘s errors; né è miraculo alcuno questo, ma molto ordinario e
ragionevole.34
Machiavelli claims, then, that human affairs proceed according to the
ordinary and reasonable rather than the miraculous.35 He applies this method even to events
recorded in the bible. For example, he explains the exodus of the Jews from Egypt and their
conquest of Canaan as merely one case among many of peoples who are compelled by harsh
necessity to leave their own country and invade that of another.36
Intelligent adherents of orthodox religion will welcome Machiavelli‘s reasoned
challenge, which is motivated by a concern for human well-being, and will respond in kind
by demonstrating that his reasons are not sufficient. While disagreeing with Machiavelli,
they will recognize that his argument must be faced.
They will pay him the same
compliment that he himself pays to Savonarola when he judges him worthy of being
refuted.37 As to Machiavelli‘s own religious or theological views, he observes that great
political events are always predicted by soothsayers, revelations, prodigies and other
heavenly signs. While professing not to know the cause of this fact, he raises the possibility
that the air may be pieno di intelligenze, le quali per naturali virtù preveggendo le cose
future e avendo compassione agli uomini, acciò si possino preparare alle difese gli
avvertiscono con simili segni.38 This quasi-theology differs not only from orthodox biblical
religion but also from paganism. The religion of the pagans, according to Machiavelli, was
34
Principe 3 beg. and end.
35
Tarcov 2010, pp. 7-8.
36
Discorsi II. 8.
37
Cf. Discorsi I. 45: frate Girolamo Savonerola [sic], gli scritti del quale mostrono la dottrina la prudenza e
la virtù dello animo suo. Savonarola is one of the very few contemporary authors to whom Machiavelli refers
in the Discorsi.
38
Discorsi I. 56.
97
founded on the belief in oracles and divination perché loro facilmente credevono che quello
Iddio che ti poteva predire il tuo futuro bene o il tuo futuro male, te lo potessi ancora
concedere.39 The intelligences in the air of which Machiavelli speaks predict the future but
they do not determine it. They bring neither good nor evil to men, they neither reward nor
punish, they are not wrathful and they do not call upon men to repent,40 but out of
compassion they warn of future dangers so that men may prepare a defense.
If for
Machiavelli there is a higher power that is wise and good, that power warns men and
republics of the dangers to which they are exposed and reminds them of the necessity to
defend themselves.
To return to Discorsi II. 2, one may be shocked not only by Machiavelli‘s critique of
Christianity but by his extreme praise of strength and ferocity. As we have seen, he goes so
far as to speak approvingly of the animal sacrifices of the pagans, full of blood and ferocity,
which were useful precisely because they were so terrible and hence rendered the spectators
themselves terrible. By his vivid language he seems to invite the reader to imagine the
scene and thus to become himself a kind of spectator of the sacrifice. Here as elsewhere in
his works, he seems to wish to accustom the reader to the spectacle of terrible things. For
his readers are all modern men and hence, in his view, lacking in ferocity.
They may
suppose they love liberty, but in fact their love is feeble compared with that of the ancients.
Machiavelli probably believes that under these circumstances he has no choice but to speak,
as it were, ferociously in order to strengthen his readers‘ nerve. This may explain to some
extent his habit of recounting, with apparent relish, violent and bloody actions. If he were
writing in a warlike society such as Sparta or republican Rome, he might perhaps write
39
40
Ibid. I. 12.
For Savonarola, the only remedy for the French invasion of Italy was repentance: O Italia . . . nulla altro ti
può giovare, se non la penitenza. (Savonarola, Prediche Sopra Aggeo I, 1 November 1494 [Savonarola 1965,
p. 10].
98
differently. But he is writing in a society that is, in his view, too pacific, and for that reason
servile. Italy, corsa . . . predata . . . sforzata . . . vituperata, will not recover its liberty
except by recovering its ancient military spirit. He intentionally exaggerates, perhaps, his
appeals to ferocity and arms in order to counteract an excessive tendency in the opposite
direction. This does not mean that his argument is relevant only to his own historical
context, but it does mean that one would have to make a certain adjustment in that argument
in order to adapt it to a different context. Only then would it be possible fully to evaluate
the argument‘s usefulness. This adaptation would be a task for political philosophy and for
contemporary republicans.
The hypothesis that Machiavelli may be exaggerating for rhetorical effect should not
be misunderstood. To say that he goes to an extreme in order to counterbalance the opposite
extreme may seem to imply that he aims to reach a just mean, after the manner of
Aristotle.41
This would be misleading.
Machiavelli is a severe critic of Aristotelian
morality and of the via del mezzo. He does not suggest that he is trying to reach an
Aristotelian mean. The just mean between the too ferocious and the too pacific would be
something like courage. Courage, in the Aristotelian presentation, is something reasonable
and noble; courage is a human virtue.42 Ferocity, on the other hand, seems to be something
bestial. In a famous passage in the Principe, Machiavelli asserts that the prince must use not
only human but also bestial nature.
Sendo dunque necessitato uno principe sapere bene
usare la bestia, debbe di quelle pigliare la golpe e il lione. As an example we are offered
the Roman emperor Severus who was uno ferocissimo lione e una astutissima golpe.43
41
It
Cf. Aristotle, Nic. Eth. II. 9, 1109a30-b6. Aristotle uses the metaphor of straightening a bent stick by
bending it too far in the contrary direction.
42
Aristotle, Nic. Eth. III. 7, 1115b10-13; III. 8, 1116b30-1117a1.
43
Principe 18-19.
99
seems that the ferocious lion replaces Aristotle‘s courage and the astute fox replaces
Aristotle‘s prudence.44 Instead of seeking the just mean between too ferocious and too
pacific (or in Aristotle‘s formulation, between too bold and too timid), the prince should
alternate between ferocity and astuteness, between force and fraud, as circumstances may
require. The human seems to reveal itself in the capacity to combine different bestial
natures: a lion can only be a lion and a fox only a fox, but a human being can be either,
insofar as he can use either nature according to a calculation of what is necessary.
A similar conclusion follows from a consideration of Machiavelli‘s discussion of
fortuna in Principe 25 and in the parallel chapter of the Discorsi, III. 9. He says in Principe
25 that men‘s good or ill fortune depends on whether their mode of proceeding is in
harmony with ―the times.‖ Whether by nature or habit, some men are cautious (rispettivi),
others impetuous. Some ―times‖ are conducive to the success of the cautious, others to the
success of the impetuous. The problem is that men do not know how to change their mode
of proceeding when the times change, and thus they are ruined. Men do not know how to
alternate between impetuosity and caution. Pope Julius II always proceeded impetuously
and he always succeeded because the times were favorable to him; had he lived long enough
to experience different times—perhaps times in which he was opposed by stronger and more
resolute opponents—he would have been ruined.
Or so Machiavelli says; neither in
Principe 25 nor in Discorsi III. 9 does he give an example of an impetuous man who was
actually ruined by his impetuosity, whereas he does give an example of a cautious man,
Piero Soderini, who was ruined by his caution.45 Machiavelli seems to wish to emphasize
44
More immediately, of course, the metaphor of the lion and the fox recalls Cicero, De Officiis I. 41. For
Cicero the lion and the fox represent modes of injustice and inhumanity and are therefore to be shunned.
45
More precisely, Soderini was ruined by his umanità e pazienza. (Discorsi III. 9)
100
the success of men like Pope Julius and the failure of men like Soderini. This implicit bias
toward impetuosity is confirmed by the famous or notorious conclusion of Principe 25:
Io iudico bene questo, che sia meglio essere impetuoso che respettivo: perché la
fortuna è donna ed è necessario, volendola tenere sotto, batterla e urtarla. E si vede
che la si lascia più vincere da questi, che da quegli che freddamente procedono: e
però sempre, come donna, è amica de’ giovani, perché sono meno respettivi, più
feroci e con più audacia la comandano.
This passage is surely meant to state a truth about the permanent structure of the world and
not merely about Machiavelli‘s own epoch. The permanent structure of the world is such
that impetuosity, ferocity and audacity are more effective, on the whole, than their
opposites.
It is clear that, here again, Machiavelli owes nothing to the Aristotelian tradition.
Having observed that men tend to be either cautious or impetuous, he does not recommend
that they cultivate a just mean.
He proposes, rather, an alternation between the two
extremes, with a decided preference for the extreme of impetuosity or ferocity. Machiavelli
is silent here regarding the mean, just as he is silent about it in the list of moral qualities in
Principe 15. This silence requires us to go beyond Skinner‘s contention that Machiavelli‘s
only significant disagreement with the classical tradition concerns justice.46
It seems
preferable to say that insofar as the classical tradition was based upon the principle of the
mean or of moderation, Machiavelli rejects the basis of the classical tradition while
preserving superficial aspects of it (such as the word virtù).47
46
47
Skinner 2002a, pp. 207-210.
Consider in this light the title of Discorsi I. 25: Chi vuole riformare uno stato anticato in una città libera,
ritenga almeno l’ombra de’ modi antichi.
101
The need to alternate between impetuosity and caution, according to the times, is in
reality an argument for republicanism, although Machiavelli is careful not to make this point
explicitly in Principe 25, i.e. in a book addressed to a prince. A man is a creature of nature
and habit; he cannot be expected to change drastically even when the times require it. A
form of government, therefore, which depends upon one man is much more vulnerable to
chance than one which can draw upon the qualities of many men. Rome could make use of
Fabius Maximus (the Delayer) when caution was needed in the war against Hannibal; when
boldness was needed in that same war, it could make use of Scipio (who invaded Africa).
Hence republics are more durable than principalities.48
So much for an explanation of Machiavelli‘s lament that modern men are
insufficiently ferocious. His praise of ferocity does not imply that he despises the quality of
humanity. But he holds that humanity presupposes strength: only strong republics (and
principalities) can secure the conditions within which men can live humanely. 49 And an
essential ingredient of a strong republic is the ferocity with which it defends its liberty. If it
is objected that humanity is itself a form of strength, Machiavelli replies that this is not
always so. In the case of Piero Soderini, leader of the Florentine republic, humanity without
ferocity led to ruin—his own, and that of the republic. The excessive humanity and humility
of la nostra religione, or at least of a bad interpretation of that religion, has weakened the
love of liberty and the capacity of free peoples to defend themselves. Ferocity is in itself
something unreasonable, but Machiavelli, as we have seen, has his reasons for praising it.
48
49
Discorsi III. 9.
Consider this passage from Principe 17: Era tenuto Cesare Borgia crudele: nondimanco quella sua crudeltà
aveva racconcia la Romagna, unitola, ridottola in pace e in fede. Il che se si considera bene, si vedrà quello
essere stato molto più piatoso che il populo fiorentino, il quale, per fuggire il nome di crudele, lasciò
distruggere Pistoia.
102
He claims that his ultimate end is a humane one, or at least that those who humanely
consider his end will honor him.50
Expansionism and democracy
Having considered Machiavelli‘s apparent militarism, we turn now to his apparent
imperialism.
The contemporary republican theorist Philip Pettit views foreign politics in the light
of domestic politics. Having begun by establishing non-domination as the fundamental
principle of domestic policy, he proceeds to apply the same principle to foreign policy. Just
as an individual seeks to avoid domination by other individuals or by the state, so a republic
as a whole ―is bound to concern itself with defence against external enemies;‖ otherwise
―another country may dominate it, and thereby dominate its citizens.‖51 Machiavelli takes
the opposite approach: he presents domestic politics as profoundly conditioned by the
exigencies of foreign politics.
Why was Rome more democratic than other republics? The answer, according to
Machiavelli, is that it had to make frequent use of the plebs in war and therefore had to grant
it a greater share of political power.52 As a result, the plebs was able to satisfy its primary
desire, namely non-domination.53 The plebs achieved non-domination with respect to the
nobles not because the nobles agreed that non-domination was a worthy goal, but because
the plebs was in a position to demand it. Could the nobles have dispensed with the aid of
50
He has chosen a way which, though it may bring him some trouble and difficulty, mi potrebbe ancora
arrecare premio, mediante quelli che umanamente di queste mia fatiche il fine considerassino. (Discorsi I
Proemio)
51
Pettit 1997, pp. 150-51.
52
Discorsi I. 6.
53
Ibid. I. 5.
103
the plebs, they would never have conceded to it the authority which they did concede. For
non-domination will never be achieved through the inherent justice or good will of those
who dominate. There will never be a general consensus that non-domination should be ―a
supreme ideal for the state.‖54 Non-domination will be achieved only if those who dominate
are restrained by some necessity: gli uomini non operono mai nulla bene se non per
necessità.55 And the supreme political necessity is war.56
In treating this fundamental problem, Machiavelli asks the reader to adopt a
perspective which transcends the perspectives both of those who desire to dominate and of
those who desire not to be dominated. This is the perspective of the founder: Se alcuno
volesse . . . ordinare una repubblica di nuovo . . . .
57
Machiavelli‘s motive may be
explained as follows. The founder who must decide what kind of a republic to found, who
is therefore not yet committed to a particular kind of republic, sees more comprehensively
and reasons more freely than the citizen of a republic already in existence. The founder,
who in a way stands outside the republic he brings into being, can more easily see the good
of the whole than can the citizen who inevitably belongs to a particular group or party. The
founder not only sees the good of the whole but loves it, for the republic that he founds is
his own and will forever be associated with his name; he loves its good as a parent loves the
good of his offspring. He is compelled by his own self-interest to transcend all ordinary
forms of self-interest.58 Caring deeply about his own posthumous fame, the founder desires
54
Pettit 1997, p. 96.
55
Discorsi I. 3.
56
This runs counter to Pettit‘s argument that ―military pressures and logic‖ tend to undermine the quest for
non-domination (Pettit 1997, pp. 151-2), or at least it suggests there may be important exceptions to this
argument.
57
Discorsi I. 6.
58
Strauss 1959, pp. 42-43.
104
to establish a polity that will be long-lasting. The intelligent founder is therefore more
likely to establish a republic than a monarchy, since monarchies are too dependent on the
virtue of one man and hereditary succession is unreliable.59
(If he does establish a
monarchy it will be a limited one, like that of Romulus.60) Assuming that he establishes a
republic, he must choose, according to Machiavelli, between two basic alternatives,
symbolized by Rome on the one hand and by Sparta and Venice on the other. Sparta and
Venice appear at first glance to be superior to Rome: like Rome they endured for centuries;
unlike Rome they were not subject to tumultuous internal conflict. In Discorsi I. 4, we were
told that Rome‘s internal conflicts were not a defect but a virtue: precisely the disunion
between nobles and plebs was the source of Rome‘s liberty. The difficulty with this
argument, as Machiavelli himself points out in I. 6, is that the examples of Sparta and
Venice show that liberty is obtainable even without such internal conflicts. Furthermore, the
conflict between nobles and plebs in Rome, though at first salutary, from the time of the
Gracchi grew ever more exacerbated until it became a cause of Rome‘s ruin. What then is
the case for Rome?
The tumults of the early Roman republic were due to the fact that the Roman plebs
was both armed and numerous.61 It was this fact which made it impossible for the nobles to
handle the plebs as they pleased. The plebs felt its strength and exercised it in vigorous
protests which forced the nobles to make concessions. The plebs was armed and numerous
59
[G]li regni i quali dipendono solo dalla virtù d’uno uomo sono poco durabili, perché quella virtù manca con
la vita di quello; e rade volte accade che la sia rinfrescata con la successione. (Discorsi I. 11) Cf. also what
was said above about a republic‘s superior capacity to adapt to ―the times.‖ — As to the founder‘s concern
with his own posthumous fame, cf. Lincoln‘s remark in ―The Perpetuation of Our Political Institutions‖
(Lincoln 1989, p. 34) about the American founders: ―If they succeeded, they were to be immortalized; their
names were to be transferred to counties and cities, and rivers and mountains; and to be revered and sung, and
toasted through all time. If they failed, they were to be called knaves and fools, and fanatics for a fleeting hour;
then to sink and be forgotten.‖
60
Discorsi I. 9.
61
For the argument of this and the succeeding two paragraphs, see ibid. I. 6.
105
because Rome was expansionist and therefore needed a large army. Neither Sparta nor
Venice needed an armed and numerous plebs. Venice was expansionist, but it acquired its
empire more through money and astuteness than through war. Sparta was a warlike republic
and needed an armed plebs but not a numerous one, since it was traditionally not
expansionist. Thus while Rome was compelled to adopt a liberal immigration policy in
order to increase its population, Sparta could choose to close itself to foreigners so as not to
become corrupted by foreign customs.
The choice between Rome and Sparta or Venice turns, then, upon the question of
whether expansion, and in particular expansion through war, is necessary. There is a
presumptive case for a policy of self-defense rather than expansion. To be powerful enough
to defend itself against aggression, yet not so powerful that its neighbors view it as a threat,
appears to be the best solution for a republic, for in this way it could enjoy both security and
peace. Machiavelli admits that potendosi tenere la cosa bilanciata in questo modo, . . . e’
sarebbe il vero vivere politico e la vera quiete di una città. This vero vivere politico looks
like the Aristotelian polis, well-armed but not imperialistic.62 Yet however attractive this
solution may be, Machiavelli cannot accept it as definitive. Human affairs are too much in
motion to permit such a balance to endure. The Aristotelian solution, however reasonable,
fails to allow sufficiently for the fact that a molte cose che la ragione non t’induce, t’induce
la necessità. A republic that does not desire to expand may find itself forced to do so for the
sake of its own security. For instance (we may surmise), in the course of a defensive war, it
may find itself in possession of territory beyond its borders. Or the growing power of an
aggressive neighbor may force it to enlarge its borders in order to prevent critical resources
from falling into that neighbor‘s hands. One could try to distinguish between such limited,
62
Aristotle‘s opposition to imperialism should not be exaggerated; cf. Politics VII. 14, 1333b38-1334a2.
106
defensive expansion and imperialistic, offensive expansion, but as we shall see later,
Machiavelli believes that in practice this distinction becomes blurred.
Given that the via del mezzo between too strong and too weak cannot be maintained,
one must order a republic in such a way that it is able to expand when forced to do so.
Expansion will become necessary sooner or later; yet expansion is disastrous if a republic is
not prepared for it. Circumstances eventually led Sparta to acquire hegemony over almost
the whole of Greece, but because of its small size it could not keep what it had acquired, and
so was ruined. Venice‘s Italian empire was not backed by force and was therefore lost in a
single battle. Only Rome had the numbers and the force to hold what it had acquired.
Consequently, the intelligent founder will be inclined to choose the more tumultuous and
democratic Roman model over the more harmonious and aristocratic Spartan and Venetian
models. It is noteworthy that by reasoning from the perspective of the founder who has a
vested interest in the success of his own project, Machiavelli is able to promote an outcome
favorable to what we today would call the rights of the people, without having to appeal to
rights.
What most people today would consider the more just outcome is obtained
regardless of whether the founder cares about justice.
It may well appear from this argument that non-domination at home goes hand-inhand with domination of others abroad: democracy depends on a policy of conquest. Yet
for Machiavelli expansion does not necessarily entail despotic rule over other peoples. In
fact, he regards such despotism as to the highest degree imprudent. Viroli is right to point
this out, and to emphasize that the policy recommended by Machiavelli is not one of
conquest and subjugation but of alliances.63 Expansion is necessary for survival, but to
attempt to expand by conquering free states and holding them by violence is difficult and
63
Viroli 1998, pp. 139-143.
107
costly. The better choice, to repeat, is to form alliances, which one may do in one of two
ways.64 The first way is that of a league of equals, in the manner of the ancient Etruscans or
the modern Swiss. Experience shows that such a league can provide protection for each of
its member states while avoiding the kind of ―imperial overstretch‖ (as we say today) that
ruined Sparta. Imperial overstretch is avoided because the members of a league do not
desire extensive dominion. This has nothing to do with their sense of justice. Rather,
essendo molte comunità a participare di quel dominio, non stimano tanto tale acquisto
quanto fa una republica sola che spera di goderselo tutto. They do not greatly desire to
acquire an empire the fruits of which they will have to share with others.65 Furthermore, the
dispersion of authority among the various members makes cooperation difficult except in
cases of clear necessity, such as the common defense, whereas aggressive imperialism
requires unity of command.
Thus a league of equals makes war less often: another
advantage. (This is not the argument of one who loves war for its own sake.)66
The second way of forming alliances is to acquire ―companions,‖ while reserving to
oneself the chief authority. This was the way followed by Rome. Its companions lived in
many ways on equal terms with Rome rather than as conquered subjects. By acquiring
companions rather than subjects, Rome could expand its influence without having to hold
territory by the costly method of violence; yet Rome always reserved to itself a certain
64
For what follows in this and the succeeding paragraph, see Discorsi II. 4 and II. 21 beg.
65
For Machiavelli, one of the most common sources of morality is the incapacity to benefit from immorality.
Cf. the following sentence, especially its conclusion: E sanza dubbio, se si considerrà il fine de’ nobili e degli
ignobili, si vedrà in quelli desiderio grande di dominare ed in questi solo desiderio di non essere dominati, e
per conseguente maggiore volontà di vivere liberi, potendo meno sperare di usurparla [sc. la libertà] che non
possono i grandi. (Discorsi I. 5) Far from being disheartened by what he regards as the non-moral
foundations of morality, Machiavelli seeks to construct on such foundations the common good.
66
Considering Machiavelli‘s praise of the league, it is tempting to wonder what he would have thought of a
universal league. According to him, experience shows that leagues do not seek to expand beyond twelve or
fourteen members, since there is no necessity to do so and since more members would create confusion. In
order to justify a universal league on Machiavellian grounds, one would need to show the necessity for it as
well as its ability to function without confusion.
108
supremacy. Thus it combined the advantages of league and empire, while avoiding their
disadvantages: Rome could expand more profitably than could Sparta (which acquired
subjects rather than allies), and to a greater extent than could the Etruscans or the Swiss.
The Roman way is best. But if the Roman way is judged too difficult, one should choose
the way of the league. What is unacceptable is to choose neither the one nor the other,
which for modern Italy has proved disastrous: siamo preda di qualunque ha voluto correre
questa provincia.
This description of the Roman way is incomplete, however. Roman foreign policy
was not so benign as its ―companions‖ believed. The policy of alliances ultimately proved
to be a deception in the interest of Roman domination.
Roman methods
The ancient world was full of free peoples; Machiavelli‘s modern world is not. We
have seen that in Discorsi II. 2, Machiavelli traces this change to the effeminating influence
of la nostra religione or at least of a bad interpretation of that religion. Yet immediately
afterward, in the same chapter, he unexpectedly proposes an alternative explanation for the
decline of liberty: Ancora che io creda più tosto essere cagione di questo, che lo Imperio
romano con le sue arme e sua grandezza spense tutte le republiche e tutti e viveri civili. It
was Rome‘s own greatness that was ultimately fatal to the cause of republicanism.
Machiavelli adds, however, that even after the fall of the Roman empire, civil life could not
be revived except in a very few places. He does not say why it could not be revived; he
leaves it to the reader to put his two explanations together. In other words, having boldly—
perhaps too boldly—attacked Christianity as the cause of modern weakness, Machiavelli
appears to retreat from that attack by shifting the blame to pagan Rome, but he goes on to
imply that Christianity has maintained the world in the unfree condition in which pagan
109
Rome left it.67 Thus Christianity is by no means absolved. At the same time, pagan Rome,
too, is brought under accusation.
The Roman empire, says Machiavelli, destroyed all republics and all civil life. Does
he mean the empire of the Caesars or that of the republic, or both? There can be no doubt
that he thinks the destruction began under the republic. Two chapters later, in II. 4, he
discusses the Roman way of expansion; as we have seen this means acquiring companions
rather than subjects. But what Rome‘s companions did not realize was that they were such
only apparently and temporarily; they were, in truth, on their way to becoming subjects.
Through their alliance with Rome, venivano, che non se ne avvedevano, con le fatiche e con
il sangue loro a soggiogare se stessi. For after helping Rome to conquer peoples outside of
Italy, peoples which had always lived as subjects and which therefore were content to
recognize Rome as their new master, quegli compagni di Roma che erano in Italia si
trovarono in un tratto cinti da’ sudditi romani e oppressi da una grossissima città come
Roma. Machiavelli speaks even more explicitly in II. 13, which treats of the necessity of
fraud in rising from low to high fortune. There he says that the early Roman republic could
not have used a greater deception than this method of acquiring companions, perché sotto
questo nome se gli fece servi. When it was relatively weak, Rome used the arms of its
companions to conquer its enemies and to acquire reputation; by the time its companions
realized how strong and dominant Rome had become, it was too late. Machiavelli seems to
approve of this fraud as the only means by which Rome could have attained greatness. At
the same time he offers an implied warning: beware of alliances with Rome.
67
Cf. Inglese 2008, p. 393 n. 38 and Mansfield 1979, p. 196. See also Istorie fiorentine V. 1: in the usual
course of things, countries pass from order to disorder, after which men, made wiser by ruin, return to order, se
già da una forza estraordinaria non rimangono suffocati.
110
The Roman republic, then, was not merely the benevolent leader of an alliance.
Rather, Rome‘s policy consisted in a judicious alternation between benevolence and
harshness, or as Machiavelli puts it, between amore and forza. In order to augment its
population, Rome welcomed foreigners, but to the same end it sometimes found it necessary
or desirable to destroy nearby cities and forcibly transfer their populations to Rome.
Machiavelli quotes Livy: Crescit interea Roma Albae ruinis.68 When Rome‘s allies the
Latins rebelled against Rome‘s supremacy, Rome, after putting down the rebellion by force
of arms, had to decide how to treat the vanquished rebels. It did not hesitate to punish the
cities that had rebelled in such a way that they could not easily rebel again—for instance, by
destroying or disarming them—while rewarding the cities that had not rebelled. Machiavelli
praises Rome‘s avoidance of the via del mezzo: Rome either benefited free cities or it
destroyed them; it did not, for example, dishonor them but leave their power intact, as the
modern Florentines did on a certain occasion to Arezzo.69
Through such methods Rome reached a supreme greatness. Such methods were,
then, necessary and praiseworthy from Rome‘s own point of view, and worthy of being
imitated by those who might wish to achieve similar results. But is Machiavelli‘s point of
view identical with that of Rome? According to Machiavelli, Rome‘s greatness had its cost:
to repeat, Rome ultimately destroyed all republics and all civil life. It is not possible to
understand Machiavelli as both lamenting modern weakness and unqualifiedly praising the
Roman expansionism which ultimately set the stage for modern weakness.
On
Machiavelli‘s own principles, the world after the expansion of the Roman republic was not
in every respect superior to the world before that expansion. Before Rome, the Western
world and in particular Italy was filled with free peoples; at the peak of the Roman
68
Discorsi II. 3.
69
Ibid. II. 23.
111
republic‘s greatness only one people in Italy was truly free; and after the fall of that republic
no people there was free. Given that his observations concerning the flourishing of free
peoples in ancient times and his statement that Rome destroyed all ancient republics occur
in one and the same chapter, one can hardly suppose that Machiavelli was not aware of the
problem.
The root of the problem is that republics, according to Machiavelli, are inherently
exploitative. Discorsi II. 2 contains the most extended argument in favor of republicanism
in the entire work. The common good is observed only in republics and only republics grow
in power and wealth; a prince or a tyrant, by contrast, serves only his private good and cities
under such rulers do not grow but at best stagnate. Free peoples increase marvelously in
population, for everyone gladly produces children when he knows that he will be able to
provide for them since his patrimony will not be taken away, that such children will be born
free and not slaves, and that by their virtue they may become ―princes.‖ The community
grows wealthier because everyone works harder to acquire property which he believes he
will be able to enjoy in security. In such circumstances men think of advancing both the
public and the private good, and both increase marvelously. The opposite of all these good
things, Machiavelli adds, occurs in countries that are servile, and such countries are worse
off in proportion to the harshness of their servitude.
E di tutte le servitù dure quella è durissima che ti sottomette a una republica: l’una,
perché la è più durabile e manco si può sperare d’uscirne; l’altra, perché il fine
della republica è enervare e indebolire, per accrescere il corpo suo, tutti gli altri
corpi. 70
70
On the difficulty of liberating oneself from republican domination, cf. letter to Vettori, Dec. 10, 1514
(Opere, p. 1183-4): a victory of the Swiss over the French would likely lead to the enslavement of Italy, sine
spe redemptionis, sendo [la Svizzera] republica, et armata senza esemplo di alcuno altro principe o potentato.
112
Thus immediately after his glowing account of the benefits of republican life, Machiavelli
(always a master of multiple perspectives and surprising transitions) reveals a darker side of
republicanism: he makes the reader put himself in the place of the victim of republican
imperialism (ti sottomette). It is much worse to be subject to a republic than to a prince, for
a prince, if he is not a barbarous oriental despot, il più delle volte ama le città sue suggette
equalmente, e a loro lascia l’arte tutte e quasi tutti gli ordini antichi.71 To a prince, both his
own city and foreign subject cities have the same status: all serve his own private good. But
for this very reason, it is better to be subject to a prince than to a republic, for the private
good of a prince is less oppressive than the common good of republics. Since a monarchy
does not greatly favor the growth of its own population, it can afford to leave subject cities
more or less alone. But republics grow so marvelously that they are compelled to enervate
and weaken other communities, for growth requires land and other resources, which are
scarce.72 And because republics are stronger than monarchies, their despotism over you is
more durable. The qualities that make a republic superior to a monarchy are the same
qualities that make it more terrible than a monarchy.
In short, liberty leads to growth and growth leads to exploitation and war.73 In the
extreme case, it leads to that very cruel species of war in which a people that has grown too
numerous to maintain itself at home invades and occupies another land, killing or expelling
its inhabitants. The Romans did not practice this species of war, but this may have been
71
Only a barbarous prince, Machiavelli implies, would have a chosen city or a chosen people.
72
If Machiavelli were alive today he could cite the growth of the American republic from the Atlantic coast to
the Pacific, which however necessary had unfavorable consequences for the previous inhabitants of that
territory.
73
To some extent, of course, the resources necessary to support a growing population may be obtained through
internal improvements rather than through external expansion. (Cf. Discorsi II. 8 end: the internal
improvements effected by the Germans and the Hungarians have made it unnecessary for them to invade Italy
as in ancient times.) There remains however an essential scarcity of land and resources which not even our
modern technology has completely overcome.
113
partly because they unburdened themselves of their excess population little by little rather
than all at once: they did so through confiscating land from conquered peoples and then
sending out colonies to occupy it.74
Nor is necessity—the necessity of self-defense and the necessity of growth—the only
cause of republican imperialism. In Book One of the Discorsi Machiavelli argued that the
Roman model is superior to the Spartan one because necessity will compel any republic to
expand sooner or later. In Book Two, however, he admits that the Romans fought almost all
of their wars not from necessity but from choice or ambition; almost all of their wars were
not defensive but offensive.75 Rome had per fine lo imperio e la gloria e non la quiete.76
That Rome should have desired empire and glory is in Machiavelli‘s eyes entirely natural
and in itself unobjectionable. As he puts it in the Principe, in a chapter in which he
contrasts the prudence of Roman imperialism with the errors of modern imperialists: È cosa
veramente molto naturale e ordinaria desiderare di acquistare: e sempre, quando li uomini
lo fanno, che possono, saranno laudati e non biasimati.77 These two causes, necessity and
ambition, cannot always be easily distinguished from one another. Roman ambition, or
desire to acquire, was to a certain extent an anticipation of necessity.
The Romans
sapevano che la guerra non si lieva, ma si differisce a vantaggio di altri: però vollono fare
con Filippo e Antioco guerra in Grecia, per non la avere a fare con loro in Italia; e
potevono per allora fuggire l’una e l’altra: il che non vollono.78 The Romans ―wanted‖ to
74
Discorsi II. 6, 8.
75
See ibid. II. 6 beg.: La intenzione di chi fa guerra per elezione, o vero per ambizione . . . (referring to the
Romans) and ibid. II. 17: veggendo come e’ [sc. i romani] feciono quasi tutte le loro guerre per offendere
altrui e non per difendere loro . . .
76
Ibid. II. 9.
77
Principe 3.
78
Ibid.
114
make war in Greece, but their wanting followed from their knowledge. Their wanting war
was based on their knowledge that war would come sooner or later and that it was better to
fight in Greece than in Italy. Their wanting or choosing, apparently a free act, in fact
signified their obedience to necessity (the necessity of choosing the lesser evil over the
greater). Yet surely one could say with equal right that this necessity itself derived from
their natural desire to acquire: had the Romans not loved empire and glory, they would not
have found themselves in Greece in the first place. Self-defense may dictate imperial
expansion, but Machiavelli‘s emphasis on desire and ambition implies that great empires are
not acquired merely through defensive motives. Having acquired out of necessity, and
hence tasted the sweetness of acquisition, one will acquire out of ambition.79
In light of all this, we cannot quite agree with Viroli‘s view that for Machiavelli,
―territorial aggrandizement does not mean conquest and predatory expansionism‖ and that
Rome‘s foreign policy ―is not, at least in the way he presents it, predatory at all.‖ In support
of his view, Viroli cites Machiavelli‘s praise of the Romans‘ liberality: they let ―those towns
they did not demolish live under their own laws, even those that surrendered not as
[companions] but as subjects.‖80 But to say nothing of the rather important qualification in
Machiavelli‘s statement (―those towns they did not demolish‖), the fact that Rome let
companions and subjects live under their own laws is entirely compatible with the other fact,
emphasized by Machiavelli, that Rome effectively defrauded its companions of their liberty.
For to enjoy a measure of domestic autonomy thanks to the liberality of Rome, is not, of
79
Cf. letter to Vettori, Dec. 10, 1514 (Opere, p. 1183): l’uno acquisto, l’una victoria dà sete dell’altra and
Discorsi II. 19: it is impossible for a republic to enjoy its liberty quietly within its own small borders perché, se
lei non molesterà altrui, sarà molestata ella e dallo essere molestata le nascerà la voglia e la necessità dello
acquistare. In practice, voglia and necessità cannot be separated.
80
Viroli 1998, pp. 139-140. Viroli‘s quotation is from Discorsi II. 21. Machiavelli‘s argument in this chapter
is that liberality of this kind is a clever means of domination.
115
course, the same as to be a free and independent people. As Viroli himself has emphasized,
a kind master is still a master.81
At the opposite pole from Viroli stands Mark Hulliung, according to whom
Machiavelli admires Rome precisely because of its predatory imperialism.82
Against
modern scholars who try to render Machiavelli innocuous, Hulliung wants to force us to
confront the authentic Machiavelli who is disturbing and dangerous. ―Machiavelli is not
just like us.‖83 The most dangerous and, today, neglected aspect of Machiavelli‘s thought is
his imperialism. Machiavelli is an imperialist because he is an advocate of a pure pagan
morality: a morality unmitigated by either Christian or Stoic restraints. The highest good in
this morality is glory, and the greatest glory is that obtained through war and conquest.
Machiavelli is a republican not so much because he loves liberty as because liberty is
conducive to greatness and empire: [S]i vede per esperienza le cittadi non avere mai
ampliato né di dominio né di ricchezza se non mentre sono state in libertà. Republics rather
than monarchies favor the common good; but this is important because it is the common
good that makes cities great.84 Citizens of a republic are self-sacrificing in relation to their
fellow citizens and their country, but predatory in relation to foreign countries.
Machiavelli‘s Rome expanded through a ruthless mixture of force and fraud to which
Machiavelli offers not the slightest moral objection. The Discorsi is ―a glorification of
republican power politics.‖85 Yet in his enthusiasm, what Machiavelli fails to see clearly,
according to Hulliung, is that Roman imperialism was in the end the cause of Roman
81
Viroli 1999, pp. 19-20.
82
Hulliung 1983, esp. chs. 1-2.
83
Ibid. p. 228.
84
Discorsi II. 2.
85
Hulliung 1983, p. 56.
116
corruption and of the downfall of the republic. Taken to its extreme, imperialism is selfdefeating, but Machiavelli refuses to face this problem.86
Although Hulliung has succeeded in bringing out more forcefully than most scholars
certain crucial aspects of Machiavelli‘s thought, his interpretation cannot be accepted as
adequate. To begin with, it is not plausible to claim that Machiavelli was not fully aware of
the connection between imperialism and corruption.
In his treatment of corruption in
Discorsi I. 18, he describes what happened when the Roman republic had conquered so
much of the world that it no longer feared any enemies: Questa sicurtà e questa debolezza
de’ nimici fece che il popolo romano nel dare il consolato non riguardava più la virtù ma la
grazia . . .; dipoi, da quelli che avevano più grazia ei discesono a darlo a quegli che
avevano più potenza. Once the powerful rather than the virtuous came to dominate Roman
politics, the end of the republic was near. We do not see how Machiavelli could have stated
more clearly the fact that imperial success leads to civic corruption. Rome could indeed
have maintained its liberty, in spite of the corruption of its citizens, had it changed its
constitutional orders to suit its new corrupt condition. Such changes, however, would have
been such as to lead it più verso lo stato regio che verso lo stato popolare. In other words,
in such circumstances a limited monarchy was the best Rome could have hoped for: once
Rome became ruler of the world a vigorous republicanism was no longer possible.
Roman imperialism was destructive of republicanism—both that of other peoples
and, ultimately, of the Romans themselves. Roman strength ultimately prepared modern
weakness. Yet Machiavelli also argues that Roman imperialism was necessary and, as
Hulliung points out, he explicitly approves of its unscrupulous and often cruel methods. He
surely has no objection to the pursuit of glory and empire, as long as that pursuit is
86
Ibid. pp. 58-9.
117
conducted intelligently. His only criticism of modern states that seek to acquire empire is
that they do not know how to do it. Apparently, then, republican imperialism is at once
necessary, praiseworthy and self-destructive. How can we account for this contradiction? Is
it a contradiction in Machiavelli‘s thought? Or is it a contradiction in the nature of things,
and is Machiavelli‘s vision therefore a tragic one?
Machiavelli is not a complete partisan of any one people or political order, past or
present. The genuine warmth of his feelings—of admiration, contempt, patriotism and so
on—is always tempered by an extraordinary capacity for detachment. This combination of
warmth and detachment manifests itself in a willingness and even eagerness to help and
advise both sides or all sides to a conflict. The Principe closes with a rousing appeal to
Italian patriotism, an exhortation to unite Italy and free it from the ―barbarians.‖ Yet earlier
in the same work Machiavelli offers advice to some of those very barbarians: for example,
he explains how the French king Louis XII could have done a better job of invading and
holding Italian territory.87 Machiavelli is a Florentine patriot, but this does not prevent him
from advising princes to imitate Cesare Borgia, whose triumph, as Machiavelli makes clear,
would have meant the end of Florentine independence.88 In the Discorsi, Machiavelli
argues that the Roman Church has done great political harm to Italy and he goes so far as to
blame Giovampagolo Baglioni for not killing Pope Julius II when he had the chance; yet he
also provides some constructive criticism of Pope Leo X‘s foreign policy.89 In accordance
with this capacity to see matters from more than one perspective, Machiavelli is an admirer
87
Principe 3.
88
Principe 7; see the passage which includes the remark: Dopo questo, Lucca e Siena cedeva subito . . .; e’
fiorentini non avevano rimedio.
89
Discorsi I. 12, 27; II. 22. See also the letter to Vettori of June 20, 1513 (Opere, pp. 1139-1141), in which
Machiavelli imagines what he would do se io fussi il pontefice.
118
of Roman virtue and he argues that modern men should imitate it; yet this does not blind
him to the evils wrought by that very virtue.
As Lefort has noted, some of Machiavelli‘s statements are made more for their
rhetorical effect than for their intrinsic validity.90 This principle applies to some extent to
Machiavelli‘s praise of the Roman republic. Such praise is useful to Machiavelli‘s larger
purpose. The Romans in their best period were strong and free, whereas modern men are
weak and servile: hence it is useful, initially, to arouse admiration for Rome in order to
counteract modern weakness.
The praise of ancient Rome is a rhetorical weapon
Machiavelli can use against modern doctrines and practices that he finds pernicious; it is not
necessarily his last word. It is entirely compatible with his holding certain reservations
about Rome.91 Machiavelli says at the beginning of the Discorsi that he desires to bring
comune benefizio a ciascuno.92 Rome cannot be said to have brought comune benefizio a
ciascuno, given that it destroyed or reduced to servility the free peoples of Italy. Rome‘s
purposes are not, then, the same as Machiavelli‘s purposes. A republic such as Rome
promotes the common good of its own citizens but must do harm to others, for di tutte le
servitù dure quella è durissima che ti sottomette a una republica. If Machiavelli had wished
merely to glorify republican power politics he would not have shown this regard for the
victims of such politics.
Nor would he have described so memorably the domestic
corruption which Rome‘s policy of conquest fostered. His reservations about Rome are
indeed less noticeable than his praise of Rome, but this, again, seems to fit his rhetorical
strategy.
90
Lefort 1972, pp. 533, 539.
91
For Machiavelli as both admirer and critic of ancient Rome, see Strauss 1958 (esp. pp. 114-120) and
Mansfield 1979 (e.g. pp. 201-2).
92
Discorsi I Proemio.
119
The difference between Rome‘s purposes and Machiavelli‘s may be seen also in his
discussion of the league.
As we have seen, the league of equals is one of the two
recommended means by which republics can defend themselves and expand. Machiavelli‘s
prime example of such a league is that of the ancient Etruscans. We know very little about
the Etruscans, Machiavelli says, for although they were once powerful and glorious, that
power and glory was destroyed by the Romans, so that al presente non ce n’è quasi
memoria.
He reconstructs the outlines of the great Etruscan league from the pitiful
historical fragments that remain. He calls the Etruscans ―Tuscans‖ and he recommends their
example to the attention, especially, of the modern Tuscans.93 Thus he resuscitates an
alternative model to the Roman one: what the Romans did, Machiavelli here attempts to
undo.
A Machiavellian world
Machiavelli does not, then, attempt simply to revive the Roman model of war and
empire, for he is too conscious of the drawbacks of that model.
Yet the superficial
impression that the Discorsi exhorts modern men to imitate the ancient Romans is not false.
Machiavelli seems to think he has found a way to revive Roman virtue while mitigating its
harmful effects. This is one reason why he can claim to have discovered modi e ordini
nuovi even while calling for a return to the ancients.
We have seen that the Spartan model—a republic that is strong enough to defend
itself but that lacks expansionist ambitions—is rejected by Machiavelli because it is
untenable in the long run. Sparta was excessively exposed to chance: not being ordered for
empire, when it was compelled to acquire one it could not hold it and so was ruined. Yet the
Roman model, too, proves to be untenable in the long run, for a different reason: world
93
Discorsi II. 4.
120
empire proves to be incompatible with republicanism. Why then prefer Rome to Sparta?
After all, as Machiavelli admits, the Spartan republic lasted longer than the Roman one.94
Not only did it last longer, but it was more tranquil: it lacked the internal tumults which
were a necessary evil in Rome.95 Sparta, it is true, did not win the glory of conquering the
world, but neither did it earn the opprobrium of destroying all republics and all civil life. If
we are not mistaken, one reason why Rome nevertheless remains irresistibly attractive to
Machiavelli is that man for him is an acquisitive being, and it is Rome, rather than Sparta,
that gives full rein to acquisitiveness. It is the Roman model, rather than the Spartan one,
that responds to the heart‘s desire of every people to increase in wealth and dominion. The
Roman model is more productive of the happiness of its own citizens. The question, then,
becomes how to save the Roman model.
Rome was too successful for its own good: corruption became inevitable when there
were no longer enemies to fear. This fact helps account for Machiavelli‘s strange habit of
advising all sides. If there is to be a new Rome, it must never lack for powerful enemies.
Hence Machiavelli teaches not only how to construct a new Rome but also how to defend
against it. He notes that Rome was able to conquer the world because, while it was
overcoming its immediate neighbors, the great powers that were further away (such as
Carthage) stood and watched, believing that what was happening was of no consequence to
them.96 Machiavelli thus indicates that a more far-seeing policy on the part of those great
powers could have checked Rome‘s advance while it was still possible to do so. As to its
immediate neighbors, they too could have prevailed against Rome had they practiced the art
94
Ibid. I. 5.
95
Ibid. I. 5, II. 3.
96
Ibid. II. 1.
121
of exploiting its internal divisions instead of merely attacking and thus uniting it.97 A
Machiavellian world—a world educated by Machiavelli—is one in which a new Rome is
possible, but it also one in which both the enemies and the allies of the new Rome are on
their guard against Roman methods.
In the ancient world, Rome was unique: it was the only republic that had discovered
the correct way of making war as a means to expansion.98 But Machiavelli, by publicizing
Rome‘s discovery, by laying bare (better than Livy and Polybius) the causes of Rome‘s
success, makes possible not only a new Rome but many new Romes. A Machiavellian
world is ―multipolar.‖ In such a world there are a number of republics that are expansionist
in the manner of Rome; there are other republics that form leagues in the manner of the
Etruscans. There are also princes; they too, being students of the Principe, are admirers and
imitators of Roman foreign policy.99 A multiplicity of strong republics and principalities is
a defense against the danger that any one republic could ever again become so dominant that
its corruption, which is inevitable, would spell the end of liberty in the world.100
Machiavelli indicates the global breadth of his intention in Discorsi I. 9. There he
tells the story of Agis, king of Sparta, who found the Spartans corrupt and attempted to
restore them to their antica virtù. Agis failed, for he was killed before he could accomplish
97
E però se i Veienti fussono stati savi eglino arebbero, quanto più disunita vedevono Roma, tanto più tenuta
da loro la guerra discosto, e con l’arti della pace cerco di oppressargli. (Ibid. II. 25)
98
Ibid. II. 6 beginning (con quanta prudenzia ei deviarono dal modo universale degli altri, per facilitarsi la
via a venire a una suprema grandezza).
99
Principe 3.
100
The domination of any one state is a threat not only to liberty but also to virtue or excellence. See
Fabrizio‘s speech in Arte della Guerra II (Opere, p. 332) in which he notes that ancient Europe had many
excellent men because it needed them, and it needed them because it was full of republics and principalities
which feared each other. Later, when Rome had destroyed all the republics and principalities of Europe and
Africa, and most of those of Asia, sendo tutta la virtù [del mondo] ridotta in Roma, come quella fu corrotta,
venne a essere corrotto quasi tutto il mondo.
122
his plan, but his successor Cleomenes, inspired by certain ricordi e scritti of Agis,
succeeded in reforming Sparta. And Cleomenes‘ achievement would have endured se non
fusse stata la potenza de’ Macedoni e la debolezza delle altre republiche greche. Perché
essendo dopo tale ordine assaltato da’ Macedoni e trovandosi per se stesso inferiore di
forze, e non avendo a chi rifuggire, fu vinto; e restò quel suo disegno, quantunque giusto e
laudabile, imperfetto. In other words, Agis in fact succeeded in his design of restoring
Spartan virtue, not through his own deeds but through his writings which inspired the deeds
of Cleomenes. But Agis‘ posthumous success was fleeting. His writings were in the end
insufficient because their effect was limited to Sparta; they did not address the problem of
the weakness of the other Greek republics. Machiavelli is a greater Agis. He, too, wishes to
restore ancient virtue and he, too, leaves writings to posterity.101 But whereas Agis and his
imitator Cleomenes acted only upon Sparta, Machiavelli does not limit his readership, and
therefore his sphere of action, to Florentines or even to Italians: his intention is to write
something useful a chi la intende,102 something that will inspire gli animi de’ giovani che
questi mia scritti leggeranno.103 Not by accident, his influence has surely been at least as
great outside the borders of Florence and Italy as inside those borders. If there is any single
power that dominates a Machiavellian world, it can only be the power of Machiavelli
himself, insofar as all states, however hostile to each other, share a common dependence on
his instruction.104
101
Plutarch, Machiavelli‘s source, mentions stories told about Agis but not writings of Agis (see Plutarch‘s
Life of Agis and Cleomenes 24), whereas Machiavelli speaks of both ricordi e scritti of Agis. Machiavelli adds
the detail about writings in order to create a closer parallel between Agis‘ case and his own. On restoring
ancient virtue, see Discorsi I. Proemio.
102
Principe 15.
103
Discorsi II. Proemio end.
104
Mansfield 1996, pp. 277-80.
123
3. Corruption: Its Causes, Uses and Remedies
We have seen that according to Machiavelli, liberty—democratic liberty in
particular—depends ultimately on a policy of expansion, for only such a policy requires a
strong people and only a strong people can resist the oppression of the grandi.
Yet with
expansion comes corruption. The Romans became corrupt in the late republican period
when, after their conquests in Africa, Asia and Greece, they no longer believed they had
enemies to fear.1 Democracy, empire and corruption thus go together, with Caesarism as a
likely end result. We have stated how, on our reading, Machiavelli tries to solve this
problem: a Machiavellian world will be characterized not by a single strong state, as in later
Roman times, nor by many weak ones, as in the Italy of Machiavelli‘s own time, but by
many strong ones. Just as rivalry among its leading men helped preserve the liberty of
Rome,2 so rivalry among strong states, each guided by Machiavellian prudence, will help
preserve the liberty of the world.
This solution is, however, insufficient, for expansion is not the only cause of
corruption. In Discorsi III. 1, Machiavelli observes that republics, like all the things of the
world, have a natural tendency to decay—to become corrupt through the mere passing of
time, or (we may surmise) through the forgetfulness and negligence which the passing of
time brings. Even the early Roman republic, prior to its imperial expansion, was subject to
such corruption, contrary to what Machiavelli indicated at the beginning of the Discorsi.
For at the beginning, he wished to present that republic as a model for imitation; hence he
1
Discorsi I. 18.
2
Ibid. I. 30, near the end.
124
did not emphasize its defects. Admiration for Rome was necessary in order to counteract la
debolezza nella quale la presente religione ha condotto el mondo.3 As the reader began to
liberate himself from the influence of la presente religione, it became possible to take a
more sober view of the Roman republic even in its best, early period. Thus, whereas from I.
17-18 one could receive the impression that Rome was incorrupt until it had achieved world
empire, i.e. until approximately the time of Marius and Caesar, from III. 1 one learns that
Rome was in fact already corrupt on the eve of the Gallic invasion, some centuries before
Caesar.
When we speak of corruption today, we usually refer to corrupt individuals, or
perhaps to a certain class of corrupt individuals, such as politicians. Machiavelli goes
beyond this usage: he speaks of corrupt peoples. A prince, he notes, may succeed in
governing a corrupt people, but a republic can endure only if the people is good.
Machiavelli praises the Roman plebs for its goodness and religion, and similarly he asserts
that it is the goodness and religion of the modern German peoples that allow them to live
free.4 Essential to the goodness of the people are good customs, which are as politically
important as laws, for così come gli buoni costumi per mantenersi hanno bisogno delle
leggi, così le leggi per osservarsi hanno bisogno de’ buoni costumi.5 Machiavelli‘s
distinction between corrupt peoples and good ones, and his emphasis on the importance of
good customs, may strike us as embarrassingly moralistic, or alternatively, as undemocratic:
one tends to assume today that the people is essentially good and it is the elites that are
3
Ibid. I. Proemio.
4
Ibid. I. 55. Although the religion of the modern Germans is, of course, la presente religione, Machiavelli
evidently considers that they, like the Swiss (I. 12 end) make use of religion after the ancient manner. (In this
connection it may be noted that in I. 55, ―Germany‖ (La Magna) includes Switzerland, as becomes clear if one
compares this chapter with Rapporto delle cose della Magna and Ritratto delle cose della Magna in Opere, pp.
63-71.
5
Ibid. I. 18.
125
corrupt. Yet a moment‘s reflection should temper our dismissive or indignant reaction. For
if a single individual can be corrupt, then why not, indeed, a whole people? And is not this
logical possibility confirmed by experience and common opinion? Even today, when the
world is growing ever more homogeneous, do we not continue to observe great differences
between the peoples of different cities, regions and nations?
Do not some of these
differences pertain to moral and civic habits? Do we not frequently observe or hear it said
that in one place, the people is in the habit of obeying the law and doing its civic duty, while
in another place it is of the contrary habit?
Certainly for a contemporary republican such as Philip Pettit, Machiavelli‘s claim
about the mutual dependence of good laws and good customs is by no means out of date.6
Indeed, all three of the contemporary republicans we are considering in this thesis—Skinner,
Viroli and Pettit—are concerned with the problem of maintaining goodness or good
citizenship. They therefore reject what they take to be the liberal contention that politics
should limit itself as narrowly as possible to securing rights. Skinner remarks that to think
first and foremost of claiming one‘s rights, rather than of doing one‘s civic duty, would be,
from a Machiavellian perspective, ―the epitome of corrupt citizenship‖ and would put rights
themselves at risk, since rights are secure only when citizens do their duty to the republic.7
While these scholars deserve credit for attempting to revive Machiavelli‘s teaching
on corruption, and while their accounts of that teaching provide much useful information,8
they have not dealt adequately with certain difficulties inherent in the presentation of that
teaching. The first difficulty concerns the term ―corruption‖ itself: how can Machiavelli,
given his assumptions, use this term in good faith? Corruption seems to mean a change
6
Pettit 1997, p. 242.
7
Skinner 2002a, p. 212. For Viroli‘s argument for the priority of duties over rights, see Viroli 2008.
8
In particular, see Skinner 2000, pp. 76-82 and 2002a, pp. 160-185; Viroli 1998, pp. 131-143.
126
from goodness, understood as the initial, natural state of things, to badness, understood as a
deviation or decay from that state: goodness precedes badness. Machiavelli, however,
affirms that men never do anything well except through necessity,9 which implies that men
are bad until made good by necessity: badness precedes goodness. This difficulty could be
solved by deriving badness from sin: the badness which precedes goodness was itself
preceded by an original state of goodness, an Eden, from which man fell by his own free
choice. But Machiavelli does not avail himself of this solution. He denies that there was
ever a state of perfect goodness; the world has always been essentially in the same state:
giudico il mondo sempre essere stato a uno medesimo modo, e in quello essere stato tanto di
buono quanto di cattivo.10 In accordance with this view he does not, as we saw in chapter
1,11 believe that at the beginning of the cycle of governments there were virtuous rulers who
loved justice and the common good, to be followed only later by vicious ones. Vice was
there from the beginning, though it may have been held in check by fear. There was no
Eden or Golden Age.
A second difficulty is that taking lessons from Machiavelli on how to avoid
corruption sounds a little like taking lessons from Casanova on how to keep one‘s chastity.
Machiavelli, after all, bears the most infamous name in the history of political philosophy,
and even today, after all that modern scholars have done to try to save his reputation, no
good citizen and no prudent politician would publicly call himself a Machiavellian.12 To
most people, ―Machiavellian,‖ machiavellico, still means unscrupulous, conniving, immoral,
irreligious—in a word, corrupt.
9
Contemporary republicans must come to terms with the
Discorsi I. 3.
10
Ibid. II. Proemio
11
See pp. 62-3 above.
12
Henry Kissinger was once asked in an interview whether he was a Machiavellian. ―No, not at all.‖ Was he
not influenced by Machiavelli to some degree? ―To none whatever.‖ (Skinner 2000, pp. 1-2)
127
rather extraordinary fact that the founding father of modern republicanism (unlike ancient
republicans such as Cicero) is not publicly respectable. They must also admit that his bad
reputation is not undeserved. Macaulay, one of Machiavelli‘s defenders, concedes that in
the Principe Machiavelli professes openly ―[p]rinciples which the most hardened ruffian
would scarcely hint to his most trusted accomplice.‖13 And unfortunately, the Discorsi
contains many passages of the same character—passages in which Machiavelli explicitly
commends or excuses fraud, murder, treason, even tyranny. Fraud, we are told, is less
blameworthy in proportion as it is more concealed14—which is to say, in proportion as it is
more fraudulent. Romulus is excused for murdering his brother, while Giovampagolo
Baglioni is blamed for not doing the same to the pope.15 Princes tend to be ungrateful to
their victorious generals; hence a general may be justified in conspiring against his prince in
order to punish him for his future ingratitude.16 Appius Claudius is faulted, not for seeking
to overthrow the Roman republic and institute a tyranny, but for his tactical errors in doing
so.17 Surely these doctrines, and others like them, are nothing if not morally corrupt and
corrupting.
It is, however, equally true that Machiavelli very often appears in the Discorsi as a
friend of legality, morality, religion and the common good. Nothing is more harmful to a
republic, he says, than the failure to obey the law, especially on the part of those who made
the law.18 He praises, as we have mentioned, the goodness and religion of the Roman plebs
13
Macaulay 1889, p. 29.
14
Discorsi II. 13 end.
15
Ibid. I. 9, 27.
16
[C]erchi di punire il suo signore di quella ingratitudine che esso gli userebbe. (Ibid. I. 30)
17
Ibid. I. 40-41.
18
Ibid. I. 45.
128
of the early republic, as well as the goodness and religion of the peoples of the modern
German republics. Without such goodness in the people, non si può sperare nulla di bene;
come non si può sperare nelle provincie che in questi tempi si veggono corrotte, come è la
Italia sopra tutte le altre.19 As to the corruption of Italy, it is due to its lack of religion;
maintaining religion is the key to keeping a republic good and united.20
Even the
unscrupulous practices which Machiavelli is notorious for recommending are often justified
by him, at least in the Discorsi, as necessary for the common good, rather than for one‘s
own selfish ends.21
How is one to explain this ―grotesque assemblage of incongruous qualities,‖ to quote
again from Macaulay—this strange contradiction between Machiavelli the corrupter and
Machiavelli the good republican citizen? Macaulay‘s answer is that Machiavelli is the child
of his time and place, of an Italy in which, from peculiar causes, morals have grown
flexible, and yet civic spirit (in republics like Florence) has remained strong.22 Another
answer is that of Croce: Machiavelli asserts the necessity of a politics that is beyond
morality, and yet bitterly regrets that necessity; he longs for a society of good men which he
knows all too well to be unattainable; he sometimes experiences moral nausea at his own
hard-hearted recommendations.23 If Machiavelli is a divided man, precisely on the issue of
morality, this would explain the moral contradictions of the Discorsi. We prefer to offer an
answer different from both of these. With all due respect to Croce, we believe that it is not
19
Ibid. I. 55.
20
Ibid. I. 12.
21
This point is emphasized by Skinner 2002a, pp. 208-10. See, for instance, Discorsi I. 9 on Romulus‘ publicspirited motives. But see I. 18 end for a different view of Romulus and those like him (poterono . . . colorire il
disegno loro).
22
Macaulay 1889, pp. 30-40 (the quotation is on p. 30).
23
Croce 1925, pp. 59-67. See also Croce 1952, pp. 166-170.
129
Machiavelli but his readership that is divided.24 With all due respect to Macaulay, we
believe that Machiavelli, as a thinker, is not a child of his time and place but a critic of it.
Philosophical rhetoric
As Viroli has emphasized, Machiavelli is adept in the art of rhetoric. After all, he
―grew up in a city pervaded by the cult of eloquence;‖ the study of rhetoric formed an
essential part of the humanist education of his time.25 But he uses this education for his own
purposes. We have argued previously26 that the early chapters of the Discorsi are partly
characterized by an ―oblique rhetorical strategy‖ (to use Skinner‘s formula), a strategy of
overturning, while appearing to adopt, the classical view of aristocracy. If we now revisit
the question of rhetoric, we may gain some clarity on our problem.
Rhetoric aims to persuade; a rhetorician must therefore know his audience and must
carefully adapt his words to that audience‘s particular opinions, prejudices and passions.27
This means that he must speak differently to different audiences. No skilled rhetorician
would make precisely the same speech to an audience of military officers as he would to an
assembly of Quakers, or to an association of businessmen as he would to a labor union. For
this reason the rhetorician is exposed to the charge of insincerity, as is implied in the
common expression: ―that‘s just rhetoric.‖ He may be accused of saying whatever his
24
The difficulty with Croce‘s famous thesis that Machiavelli discovers the autonomy of politics, i.e. the
independence of politics from morality, is that Machiavelli does not limit his critique of morality to the
political sphere. Chapter 15 of the Principe, which asserts that the prince must sometimes be non buono,
makes clear that this necessity holds not only for princes but for men in general: uno uomo che voglia fare in
tutte le parte professione di buono, conviene che ruini in fra tanti che non sono buoni. (And cf. the title of the
chapter.) For further evidence that Machiavelli‘s ―Machiavellian‖ principles are meant to apply not only to
political but also to private life, see his comedy La Mandragola.
25
Viroli 1998, pp. 75-6. For a survey of the literature on Machiavelli‘s use of rhetoric, see Hornqvist 2004,
pp. 4-7.
26
See above, pp. 64-5.
27
Aristotle, Rhetoric II. 13, 1390a25-28.
130
audience wants to hear. An accusation along these lines is brought by Socrates in Plato‘s
Gorgias: the rhetorician, he argues, is nothing but a base flatterer. Unlike a genuine art such
as medicine, which knows and aims at what is best, the art of rhetoric is a sham art that is
ignorant of and indifferent to the best, aiming only at the pleasant. Elsewhere in the
dialogue, however, Gorgias, a rhetorician, recounts that he has often accompanied his
brother, a doctor, on a visit to a patient who did not want to take a drug or undergo a painful
operation: ―when the doctor could not persuade him, I persuaded him, by no other art than
rhetoric.‖28 In this example, the doctor knew best, but he needed the help of the rhetorician
to achieve the best. The doctor can explain the reasons for a medical treatment but cannot
influence those who are deaf to reasons because they are in the grip of fear or some other
passion or prejudice. The rhetorician, on the other hand, can speak to the passions and move
them; for instance, he can overcome fear by appealing to the sense of shame. It is this
power of moving the passions that makes rhetoric dangerous, but also necessary. If we
human beings were always reasonable, there would be no need for rhetoric: given that we
are so frequently governed by passion and prejudice, the need for rhetoric arises. Through
the example of Gorgias and his brother, the reader is surely meant to discern the possibility
and necessity of a noble art of rhetoric, one that is as it were the brother of wisdom and its
assistant. Machiavelli, we contend, makes use of rhetoric in this sense. Machiavelli the
rhetorician is the brother and assistant of Machiavelli the doctor—the doctor of the body
politic.29 The doctor of the body politic may be described as the political scientist or the
political philosopher. Contrary to Viroli‘s contention that Machiavelli is not a philosopher
28
29
Plato, Gorgias 464c-d, 456b.
For medicine as a metaphor for political science, cf. Discorsi III. 49: È di necessità . . . che ciascuno dì in
una città grande naschino accidenti che abbiano bisogno del medico; e secondo che gl’importano più,
conviene trovare il medico più savio and III. 1, toward the beginning (questi dottori di medicina). See also
Principe 3 in which Machiavelli compares political maladies to medical ones (in the beginning they are easy to
cure but hard to know, while later on they are easy to know but hard to cure). The metaphor implies that just
as there can be a science of medicine, so there can be a science of politics, i.e. genuine knowledge of politics.
131
but a rhetorician, we contend that he is both, and that his rhetoric is in the service of his
philosophy.30
Machiavelli the rhetorician addresses at least two different audiences in the Discorsi.
On the one hand, he addresses conservatives and traditionalists. It is this audience to which
he appeals when he begins the work by lamenting the disappearance of antiqua virtù from
the modern world.31 It is this audience which will be particularly gratified by the attention
he pays to the problem of corruption. When he speaks of questi nostri corrotti secoli,32
when he asserts that nothing is more important for states than to maintain incorrotte le
cerimonie della loro religione, e tenerle sempre nella loro venerazione,33 when he stresses
the need not only for good laws but for good customs to support the laws, when he warns
against the corrupting effects of pleasure and luxury and of foreign ways, when he says that
the best thing for a state is either not to alter, or, if it must alter, to do so in the direction of
its first beginnings when it was good and uncorrupted34—when he makes these and similar
affirmations, his conservative and traditionalist readers are surely nodding their heads in
approval.
But he also addresses an audience of a very different description. This audience is
composed of those who are young (or young in spirit) and daring, those who have a taste for
the unconventional and the irreverent, even the forbidden, those who are attracted not so
much by the ancient as by the novel. They are the young referred to in chapter 25 of the
Principe, whom the woman fortuna befriends perché sono meno respettivi, più feroci e con
30
Viroli 1998, p. 95. Cf. above, pp. 33-7.
31
Discorsi I. Proemio.
32
Ibid. II. 19 beg.
33
Ibid. I. 12 beg.
34
Ibid. III. 1 beg.
132
più audacia la comandano. That they are Machiavelli‘s primary audience in the Discorsi
appears from his explicit statement that he wishes to speak boldly in order to inspire gli
animi de’ giovani che questi mia scritti leggeranno.35 He attracts such readers by the
freshness and vivacity of his prose. He arouses their curiosity by alluding to his discovery
of modi e ordini nuovi and to his having entered upon a road non essendo suta ancora da
alcuno trita.36
These readers prick up their ears when he praises the Roman custom of
awarding the highest honors without regard to age, even to those who were giovanissimi,37
or when he explains how [e]’ si ottiene con l’impeto e con l’audacia molte volte quello che
con modi ordinarii non si otterrebbe mai.38 They may at first be shocked by the remark that
fraud is less blameworthy when it is more concealed, and by other such ―Machiavellian‖
maxims, but they soon learn to be amused by them, and to smile at every mischievous
nondimeno. They are fascinated by the long chapter on conspiracies (the longest in the
Discorsi), in which Machiavelli begins by piously advising the reader not to engage in
conspiracies (for they are too dangerous, and besides, one should learn to be content with
the rulers one has been allotted), and then goes on to explain exactly how to execute a
conspiracy in such a way as to be assured of success.39 These readers feel that Machiavelli
35
Ibid. II. Proemio (end). The Discorsi is dedicated to two young men, Zanobi Buondelmonti and Cosimo
Rucellai, both over twenty years Machiavelli‘s junior.
36
Ibid. I. Proemio.
37
Ibid. I. 60 end.
38
Ibid. III. 44 (title).
39
Costoro dunque per questi modi hanno fuggiti quelli pericoli che si portano nel maneggiare le congiure; e
chi imiterà loro, sempre gli fuggirà. (Discorsi III. 6, a little before the middle of the chapter, between the
examples of Nabis and Nero) Inglese (2008, p. 585 n. 7) prefers to take at face value Machiavelli‘s initial
disapproval of conspiracies. But this is a typical example of the difference between Machiavelli‘s ―first
statements‖ and his ―second statements.‖ (See above, p. 66.)
133
is speaking to the secret desire of their own heart when he takes up the question of founding
a republic di nuovo or of reforming it al tutto fuor degli antichi suoi ordini.40
By proceeding as he does, Machiavelli persuades each of these two audiences to
swallow a pill it might otherwise find bitter. By praising and blaming so many of the things
conservatives praise and blame, by appealing to their specific passions and prejudices, he
wins their confidence and respect, so that they will be willing to forgive him when he
occasionally strays from the straight and narrow conservative path. They will tolerate his
unconventional and even revolutionary statements, as one tolerates the foibles of a friend.
In consequence of this toleration they will become, even if unconsciously, somewhat less
hostile to innovation. On the other hand, Machiavelli also wins the confidence and respect
of the young and daring, who sense that he shares their taste for novelty and irreverence. He
thus convinces them to pay attention, instead of yawning, when he speaks about the vital
importance of order, obedience to the law, religion and morality. They can learn from him
that a bold innovator may enjoy a fleeting success, but no lasting glory, unless he knows
how to conserve the innovations he has introduced.
The badness of princes
The difference between innovation and conservation is, we believe, the key to
understanding Machiavelli‘s rhetoric and to resolving the apparent contradiction between
Machiavelli the corrupter and Machiavelli the good republican citizen. This difference is
closely connected to that between princes and peoples. In Discorsi I. 58 we are told that i
principi sono superiori a’ popoli nello ordinare leggi, formare vite civili, ordinare statuti e
ordini nuovi, while the peculiar virtue of peoples is that they are superiori nel mantenere le
cose ordinate. Princes are better at political innovation; peoples are better at political
40
Discorsi I. 6 (Se alcuno volesse . . . ordinare una republica di nuovo), I. 9 (title).
134
conservation. For more information on the relevant qualities of princes, we turn to the
Principe. According to Machiavelli‘s notorious claim in that book, men and especially
princes cannot afford to be wholly good, perché uno uomo che voglia fare in tutte le parte
professione di buono, conviene che ruini in fra tanti che non sono buoni. Goodness is not a
sufficient defense against badness. Hence a prince must learn to be non buono when the
occasion requires. He must learn to be a lion and a fox, i.e. to use both force and fraud. 41 If
this is true of the ordinary prince, surely it must be even more true of the new prince—the
prince who does not inherit his state but ―acquires‖ it. The hereditary prince, having the law
and ancient custom on his side, may be assumed to start from a stronger position and to have
fewer enemies, and hence to have less cause to injure others. 42
Not so in the case of the
new prince43 and above all in the case of the completely new prince, the principe nuovo in
uno principato nuovo,44 the founder, the introducer of nuovi ordini.
For there is no
enterprise more difficult, doubtful and dangerous, we are told in Principe 6, than that of
introducing nuovi ordini.
On the one hand the introducer has determined enemies, who
benefit from the old orders and have the established laws on their side; on the other hand he
has only lukewarm allies, who do not yet believe in the new orders since they have no firm
experience of them. The extraordinarily dangerous enterprise of introducing new orders
would appear to require a prince who is particularly accomplished at being non buono. That
this is so becomes practically explicit at the end of Principe 19, in which Machiavelli
41
Principe 15, 18.
42
Ibid. 2.
43
Queen Victoria is reported to have said of Benjamin Disraeli, some time before they became friends: ―I do
not approve of Mr. [Disraeli]. I do not approve of his conduct to Sir Robert Peel‖ (whose career Disraeli had
effectively destroyed). To which her interlocutor replied: ―Madam, Mr. [Disraeli] has had to make his
position, and men who make their positions will say and do things which are not necessary to be said and done
by those for whom positions are provided.‖ Blake 1998, pp. 302-3.
44
The formula uno principe nuovo in uno principato nuovo first appears at the end of Principe 19, but the
conception of the completely new prince is introduced in ch. 1 and is the theme of ch. 6.
135
returns to the subject of the principe nuovo in uno principato nuovo and recommends that
such a prince imitate the Roman emperor Septimius Severus, whose very bad actions
Machiavelli has described at length in that chapter.
Severus was uno ferocissimo lione e
una astutissima golpe, a usurper who eliminated his rivals by force and fraud, a man who in
the Discorsi is frankly called wicked45—in short, a perfect ―Machiavellian.‖
Yet if a prince cannot afford to be wholly good, neither can he afford to be wholly
bad. Or rather, while it may indeed be necessary on occasion to be wholly bad,46 he cannot,
of course, be wholly bad always and to everyone, as Principe 19 shows. Severus represents,
perhaps, the extreme case of successful badness. He was very cruel and rapacious, he
oppressed the people, and still he reigned happily. Yet even Severus had to be good to the
soldiers, whose loyalty was the basis of his power. Moreover, Severus could reign happily
only because to his exceeding cruelty and rapacity he united exceeding virtue: he knew how
to keep the people stupefied and in awe, and the soldiers reverent and satisfied. The cruel
and rapacious emperors who succeeded him, and who lacked this exceeding virtue, incurred
too much hatred or contempt and were eliminated. Thus while the imitation of Severus may
be appropriate in certain respects for the founder-prince of exceptional virtue, it is not
feasible for an ordinary prince of ordinary virtue. Being less virtuous than Severus, the
ordinary prince must be less bad; he must rely more on goodness. But such reliance is
possible only in a society in which goodness is powerful. For when the most powerful
element in society is not good but corrupt, one is forced to satisfy that corrupt element, e
allora le buone opere ti sono nimiche: good actions will lead only to one‘s own destruction.
In Principe 19 Machiavelli discusses the Roman empire and in particular the careers of ten
45
46
Discorsi I. 10.
Discorsi I. 27. The title of this chapter says that men rarely know how to be wholly bad or wholly good, but
the body of the chapter provides a recommendation only regarding the former alternative. (Mansfield 1979, p.
100)
136
emperors from Marcus Aurelius to Maximinus. Under the empire, the most powerful
element of society was not the people but the soldiers, whose ruling passions were cruelty
and avarice. Whereas in republican times an armed and numerous people had been able to
defend itself against its oppressors (namely the grandi),47 now, when the people and the
soldiers were no longer identical but had become two separate classes, the people was weak
and its oppressors irresistible. Consequently, a good emperor, an emperor who did not wish
to satisfy the soldiers, usually came to grief sooner or later. The exception, among the
emperors discussed, was Marcus Aurelius, who, though just and humane, was nevertheless
successful, one of the main reasons being that, unlike others, he was not a new prince but
came to the throne by lawful inheritance (iure hereditario).48 Goodness can be successful
when, and only when, it has the support of law and law is respected. Yet to establish law in
the first place, we need a founder, a new prince who knows how to be bad.
Hence
Machiavelli concludes Principe 19 by affirming that uno principe nuovo in uno principato
nuovo non può imitare le azioni di Marco [Aurelio], né ancora è necessario seguitare quelle
di Severo: ma debbe pigliare da Severo quelle parti che per fondare el suo stato sono
necessarie, e da Marco quelle che sono convenienti e gloriose a conservare uno stato che
sia già stabilito e fermo.49 The founder should imitate Severus in order to found his new
state, but the state should be ordered in such a way that, once it has been founded and the
47
See above, p. 104. In Principe 9, Machiavelli refers to the fundamental conflict between the people and the
grandi, but in the chapter under consideration, Principe 19, he leaves the grandi out of consideration,
implying, it would seem, that under the empire they were not a significant factor or else were allied with the
soldiers. For the disarming of the people under the empire, see Herodian II. 11. 4-5. (Herodian is believed to
be Machiavelli‘s chief historical source for Principe 19.)
48
49
That is, as the adopted son of Antoninus Pius.
Earlier in this chapter Machiavelli refers to Marcus Aurelius as Marco filosofo. This is noteworthy, since
filosofo and filosofia are terms used with extreme rarity by Machiavelli. In light of the chapter as a whole, this
description of Marcus Aurelius could be taken as a judgment regarding the usefulness—the limited
usefulness—of the philosophic tradition preceding Machiavelli. It may also be noteworthy that Machiavelli
consistently refers to Marcus Aurelius as Marco, i.e. by a name that is also Christian (whereas he does not
refer to Septimius Severus as Settimio but rather as Severo).
137
enemies of it eliminated, the founder or his successors can afford to imitate less the wicked
Severus than the just and humane Marcus Aurelius. The new state should become one in
which law is respected, and in which there is not a dominant class characterized by cruelty
and avarice. Such a state will be stable, firm and glorious. We note, however, that a certain
imitation of Severus is ―necessary,‖ while the imitation of Marcus is merely ―useful and
glorious.‖
The Principe, then, teaches that the nuovo principe in uno principato nuovo, the
founder, the introducer of new orders, must be both bad and good. Since in the very first
sentence of the Discorsi Machiavelli indicates that he himself wishes to introduce new
orders,50 it is hardly surprising if he himself is in this book both bad and good. Simplifying,
one could say that when he speaks of or to princes he is bad and when he speaks of or to the
people he is good. For while badness belongs primarily to princes, and especially new
princes, goodness belongs primarily to the people. Thus Machiavelli defends the bad
actions of the new prince Romulus, who killed his own brother, Remus, and later his
colleague, Titus Tatius.51
Romulus‘ actions were entirely excusable, for they were
necessary if he was to have sufficient authority to establish Rome and his new orders.52
While Machiavelli in effect praises the founder-prince of Rome for knowing how to be bad,
50
Discorsi I. Proemio. There exist two versions of this Proemio, designated in Inglese‘s edition as A and B;
only A contains the sentence about introducing new orders (and modes). It is controversial which version is
the definitive one. Inglese considers A to be provisional and B to be definitive. For a contrary opinion, see
Mansfield 1979, p. 26 n. 1. However this may be, no one disputes that Proemio A was written by Machiavelli,
and it seems to us that the reference to introducing new orders is consistent with the overall intention of the
Discorsi. In this thesis, I. Proemio refers to the version which Inglese designates as I. Proemio A.
51
Machiavelli first says he consented to Titus‘ killing, then later says simply that he killed him (Discorsi I. 9
beg., 18 end).
52
Discorsi I. 9. The difference between Romulus and Severus appears at first glance to be that whereas
Severus was motivated only by selfish ambition, Romulus aimed at the common good. But after claiming in I.
9 that Romulus acted for the common good, Machiavelli seems to qualify or retract this claim at the end of I.
18: Romulus was one of those founders who were able to ―color their design,‖ colorire il disegno loro; for the
meaning of colorire cf. Principe 18: né mai a uno principe mancorno cagioni legittime di colorire la
inosservanzia [della fede].
138
he praises the Roman people for being good. The goodness or incorruption of the Roman
people showed itself particularly in its fidelity and its guilelessness: it kept its sworn
promises and did not even think of committing fraud. After the expulsion of the Tarquin
royal family and the establishment of the republic, liberty could be preserved because the
people was faithful to its oath that it would never allow anyone to reign as king. The very
name of king remained hateful to the Roman people for centuries, probably as a result of
this oath and the memory of it.53 As the people is faithful to its oaths, so it is faithful, more
generally, to the established or traditional morality; at least it demands public respect for
that morality. Thus whereas a prince may easily and by many avenues be persuaded to
appoint to office a man of bad moral reputation (uno uomo infame e di corrotti costumi), a
people will never be persuaded to do so. Unlike a prince, a people is constant in its moral
feeling: [v]edesi un popolo cominciare ad avere in orrore una cosa, e molti secoli stare in
quella opinione: il che non si vede in un principe.54 The people‘s long-term fidelity to
religion and morality is what makes it a conservative force. Such a force is needed to
preserve uncorrupted the customs and laws that sustain a free way of life. Thus while
Machiavelli is compelled to teach princes how to be bad, he is at the same time compelled to
respect and promote the goodness of the people, if he wishes his own new orders not only to
be established but to endure.
What are those new orders? We would suggest that they consist, in large part, in this
very combination of badness and goodness of which we have been speaking, a combination
which Machiavelli evidently believes he is the first thinker to achieve. This is the meaning
of his claim that he departs from the orders of others (da li ordini delli altri), and that he has
53
Discorsi I. 17, 55, 58. Cf. I. 13 (the continued fidelity of the plebs to an oath it had made to obey a certain
consul, even after that consul‘s death).
54
Ibid. I. 55.
139
entered upon a road not yet trodden by anyone (non . . . ancora da alcuno trita).55 In
making this claim he does not deny that his predecessors understood something of these
matters. In Principe 18 he says that there are two modes of combat: with laws and with
force. The former is proper to man (proprio dello uomo), the latter to beasts; but because
the former often does not suffice, one must have recourse to the latter: a prince must know
how to use both the beast and the man (la bestia e lo uomo). The ancient writers taught this
principle covertly (copertamente). So Machiavelli and his ancient predecessors appear to be
in agreement, except that he announces openly a principle which they taught covertly. But
he announces this principle only to abandon it immediately, if implicitly, in favor of a more
extreme one. Dropping laws, he now says that the prince must use the fox and the lion, i.e.,
not the beast and the man, but two beasts. We infer that whereas the ancient writers
preferred law (since it is proper to man) but accepted regretfully that force is sometimes
necessary, Machiavelli has discerned that law is always secondary to force, or to a mixture
of force and fraud, and there is no point in being regretful about it.56 The opinion that law is
proper to man is presumably born of the opinion that man is by nature a rational animal
concerned with justice, i.e. that he is something more than a beast who happens to possess
reason instead of claws. As we have seen, Machiavelli is doubtful of this kind of natural
moral teleology.57 Man undoubtedly has certain natural capacities, but one cannot say that
one of them is more proper to him than another; all one can say is that each must be used, or
not used, according to necessity (secondo la necessità), a necessity imposed by such non-
55
Principe 15, Discorsi I. Proemio beg.
56
Cf. Tarcov 2010a, pp. 15-16. Our interpretation is in harmony with the statement in Principe 12 that good
laws are derivative from good arms and therefore io lascerò indietro el ragionare delle legge e parlerò delle
arme.
57
See above, pp. 54-7. In Discorsi I. 2 Machiavelli says that in the beginning men vissono un tempo dispersi a
similitudine delle bestie: man‘s beginning—and therefore his essence?—seems to have been more bestial than
human. Consider Strauss 1958, p. 78.
140
moral ends as security, glory and riches.58
The covert character of the ancients‘ teaching
was probably, for Machiavelli, a consequence of their failure to recognize fully the priority
of force and fraud.
The ancients were no doubt afraid that by speaking too openly, they
would undermine the authority of law.59 In fact, they left law insecure, for law is secure
only when its dependence on force and fraud is properly appreciated, at any rate by princes.
Machiavelli has the audacity to believe that by speaking more openly about the need for
force and fraud or for the bestial, he will not undermine law but strengthen it; by speaking
more openly about the need for badness, he will not destroy goodness but protect it. He
does not, indeed, speak absolutely openly: the full extent of his departure from the ancients
is left implicit. Even for Machiavelli, respect for goodness imposes limits on speech.
To repeat, Machiavelli says that the qualities of Severus are necessary for founding a
state, those of Marcus Aurelius useful and glorious for conserving one. At first glance, this
appears to mean that once badness has played its part, it should bow gracefully and yield the
stage to goodness. Unfortunately, matters are somewhat more complicated. Founding is not
necessarily a single historical event. Sparta, indeed, may have been founded in one stroke,
by Lycurgus; but Sparta was a static regime ill adapted to a world in motion, and it was
more subject to corruption than one might at first suppose.60 Not Sparta but Rome is (with
qualifications) Machiavelli‘s model. Who or what was responsible for the founding or
ordering of Rome?
Although Rome did not have a Lycurgus to order it well from the
58
Principe 15, 25 (al fine quale ciascuno ha innanzi, cioè gloria e ricchezze). Machiavelli does not, then,
simply reject the notion of natural or given ends. One may add that knowledge, too, appears to be an end, so
much so that Machiavelli‘s own most valuable possession is la cognizione delle azioni delli uomini grandi
(ibid. Dedicatory Letter). How the love of knowledge or wisdom is to be reconciled with the priority of the
bestial over the human is not immediately clear.
59
60
Tarcov 2010a, pp. 15-16.
Discorsi I. 2, 6; II. 3. For the corruption of Sparta, see I. 9 end, where Machiavelli in effect retracts his
assertion in I. 2 that Sparta endured for eight hundred years without corruption. For the superiority of Rome to
Sparta, see above, pp. 105-6, 119-20.
141
beginning, explains Machiavelli in Discorsi I. 2, nondimeno furo tanti gli accidenti che in
quella nacquero, per la disunione che era intra la Plebe e il Senato, che quello che non
aveva fatto uno ordinatore lo fece il caso. According to this rather surprising statement,
accidents (i.e. unexpected events) and chance were the real founders of Rome. Machiavelli
is indeed exaggerating for effect; he clarifies his meaning in I. 3. At the beginning of the
republic the nobles were held in check by fear of the exiled Tarquins; once the Tarquins
were dead, the nobles began to oppress the plebs in every way they could, so that convenne
pensare a uno nuovo ordine for the plebs‘ security: hence the creation of the tribunes. The
creation of this new order occurred, then, not precisely through accidents, but through the
thinking that became necessary as a result of accidents. Founding occurs through the
rational response to accidents. It is not, cannot be, the simple imposition of a rational plan,
once and for all, since accidents will always arise requiring significant modifications of the
plan.61 Furthermore, because of the essential imperfection of human affairs, even the best
possible founding, the best possible beginning, necessarily contains the seeds of future evils.
All bad examples arise from good beginnings; indeed, one may go further and say that all
good beginnings produce bad examples: perché in ogni cosa . . . è nascoso [sic] qualche
proprio male che fa surgere nuovi accidenti, è necessario a questo con nuovi ordini
provvedere.62 The creation of the tribunes was necessary to check the ambition of the
nobles, but soon another new order, or rather mode, became necessary to check the ambition
of the tribunes themselves, il che fu che [i nobili] trovarono sempre infra loro [sc. i tribuni]
61
McCormick remarks in this connection that ―[a] regime that is built by accidenti will be more adept at
managing accidenti.‖ (McCormick 1993, p. 893; see the whole article for a thoughtful discussion of accidenti
in the Discorsi.) One must add however that there could be a rational plan which does not require future
modifications, because it consists not in particular orders and modes, but in the general principles to which all
particular orders and modes should adhere; this plan would be that presented by Machiavelli himself in the
Discorsi.
62
Discorsi I. 46, III. 11. Cf. ibid. I. 6: in tutte le cose umane si vede questo, chi le esaminerà bene, che non si
può mai cancellare uno inconveniente, che non ne surga un altro.
142
qualcuno che fussi o pauroso o corrottibile o amatore del comune bene, talmente che lo
disponevano a opporsi alla volontà di quegli altri che volessono tirare innanzi alcuna
deliberazione contro alla volontà del Senato. Il quale rimedio fu un grande temperamento a
tanta autorità, e per molti tempi giovò a Roma.63 To divide the tribunes, sometimes by
corrupting one of them, was the new mode by which the tribunate order was checked or
corrected.
In other words, conserving liberty requires innovation, every innovation
eventually needs to be modified by another innovation, and innovation is not necessarily an
exercise in moral scrupulousness. The first Roman innovator was Romulus, a fratricide.
The second was Numa, a perpetrator of religious fraud. Since the need for new orders arose
more or less continuously (ogni dì), Rome in fact had to be ordered by tanti uomini
prudenti, whose moral character may be assumed to be not fundamentally different from
that of Romulus or Numa.64
Innovation and conservation, and hence badness and goodness, do not, then,
necessarily characterize separate periods in the life of a republic but must frequently coexist
in the same period. There is a constant need for new orders in response to new accidents;
yet these new orders would not be accepted and the republic would not be stable if there
were not also some continuity with the past. According to the title of Discorsi I. 25, [c]hi
vuole riformare uno stato anticato in una città libera, ritenga almeno l’ombra de’ modi
antichi. As this statement indicates, the requirement of continuity may be satisfied by the
mere appearance of continuity, for as Machiavelli goes on to explain, lo universale degli
uomini si pascono così di quel che pare come di quello che è: anzi molte volte si muovono
più per le cose che paiono che per quelle che sono. And Machiavelli indicates that this
device—retaining the shadow of ancient modes—can be used for more radical purposes
63
Ibid. III. 11.
64
Ibid. I. 9, 11, 49 end.
143
than reform in the ordinary sense. Whereas in the title of the chapter he addresses himself to
chi vuole riformare uno stato anticato in una città libera, in the body of the chapter he
addresses himself to tutti coloro che vogliono scancellare un antico vivere in una città, e
ridurla a uno nuovo e libero: in the second case he refers, in effect, not to reforming an
existing vivere libero but to founding a new one.65 One must ensure that se i magistrati
variano, e di numero e d’autorità e di tempo, che almeno ritenghino il nome, which is to say
that as long as names do not change, people can be brought to accept almost any change in
substance. (By varying the number, authority and time in office of magistrates, one could
effect a change from principality to republic and vice versa.) This may help us understand
why Machiavelli in the Discorsi is willing to present himself as primarily a restorer of
antiqua virtù rather than a founder of new orders. Now the recommendation given in
Discorsi I. 25 applies to the founder of a vivere libero or a vivere politico; it does not apply,
Machiavelli says at the end of the chapter, to quello che vuole fare una potestà assoluta, for
such a one debbe rinnovare ogni cosa. This point is taken up in I. 26, whose title reads: Un
principe nuovo, in una città o provincia presa da lui, debbe fare ogni cosa nuova. The new
prince in a new state must make everything new, including names: nuovi governi con nuovi
nomi, con nuove autorità, con nuovi uomini. He must completely overthrow, so to speak,
the ancien regime. At least, he must do so if he wishes to maintain absolute power rather
than found a civil life, and especially when his foundations are weak (quando i fondamenti
suoi fussono deboli). Whereas the reformer of I. 25 achieves and maintains his reforms
through broad-based consent (con satisfazione di ciascuno), the new prince of I. 26
evidently does not rely on such consent: he makes the rich poor and the poor rich, he builds
and destroys cities, he institutes forced migrations, in a word he employs modes that are
65
He does not speak literally of founding but of leading back: not ordinarla but ridurla. His misleading use of
the verb ridurre imitates the action of the reformer-founder himself, who will claim to be merely leading the
city back to the ancient when in fact he is creating something new.
144
crudelissimi. Such modes are to be shunned, and one should prefer to live as a private man
rather than to be king at such terrible human cost; yet he who does not take the former path
of goodness will have to enter into this badness if he wants to maintain himself. Whereas
the original alternative (at the end of I. 25) was between a vivere politico and absolute
power, the new alternative is between private life and kingship: vivere politico has
disappeared, as if to suggest that weak foundations do not really permit such an option.66
There is, then, a place in Machiavelli‘s thought not only for innovation that disguises
itself as continuity, but also for innovation that proclaims itself boldly as what it is. After
all, though the people revere the past, they also love novelty, and men are much more taken
by present things, if they are good, than by past ones.67 The conservatism of the people is
not absolute; it can be overcome by a virtuous new prince. Through bold and, as necessary,
cruel innovation, weak foundations can become strong, and hence the object of future
reverence.
The goodness of the people: religion
It is princes who innovate and peoples who conserve; in this sense it is princes who
are bad and peoples who are good. But principi in Machiavelli‘s usage may refer to the
leaders of a republic.68 Thus one may say that in a republic, it is the leaders who are bad
and the people that is good. It is true that Machiavelli distinguishes between corrupt and
incorrupt peoples, which seems to contradict the assumption that the people as such is good.
66
One of the examples of the new prince given in I. 26 is the biblical King David; in referring to David,
Machiavelli quotes words from the Magnificat which actually refer to God: all successful innovators, whatever
their dignity, employ the same methods. (Cf. the equivalence asserted in Principe 6 between the actions of
Moses, che ebbe sì grande precettore, and those of pagan founders such as Cyrus, Romulus and Theseus.)
67
68
Principe 24 beg. Cf. Discorsi III. 21 (gli uomini sono desiderosi di cose nuove . . . ).
See e.g. Discorsi I. 12 (i principi d’una republica, o d’uno regno), II. 2 (in a republic, as opposed to a
principality, one‘s children possono mediante la virtù loro diventare principi).
145
The answer to this objection is that when the people is corrupt or bad it is the fault of its
leaders: gli peccati de’ popoli nascono dai principi. The people is bad only when it is badly
governed.69 Thus the Italian people is corrupt, more corrupt in fact than any other people,70
but the cause of this corruption is not some defect inherent in Italians themselves: the cause,
according to Machiavelli, is the influence of the Church of Rome, for it is thanks to the
wicked examples of that court that Italians have become sanza religione e cattivi. The
Italians are perfectly capable of becoming good, if only they had good rulers: qui è virtù
grande nelle membra, quando la non mancassi ne’ capi.71 The Swiss are incorrupt, but let
the Roman court, with all the authority that it has in Italy, be moved to Switzerland, and in
short order the Swiss will be as corrupt as the Italians.72
To say that the people is good, then, is to say that it is capable of becoming good
through good government. How can this end be achieved? In Principe 17 we are told that
men in general are bad, selfish and dishonest, and therefore that it is safer for the prince to
be feared than loved, since love is easily overpowered by the promptings of self-interest but
fear is strengthened by them. Fear of the prince is the key to overcoming men‘s badness; it
is the key to making men good. What about in a republic? Discorsi I. 11 provides a
preliminary answer: religion. For one has only two alternatives if one wants a stable
society: either fear of a prince or fear of God; hence in republics there must be fear of God.73
Religion, understood as fear of God, proves to be a republican remedy for men‘s badness.
69
Ibid. III. 29.
70
Ibid. I. 55.
71
Principe 26.
72
Discorsi I. 12 end.
73
Where fear of God is lacking there must be timore d’uno principe che sopperisca a’ difetti della religione;
this statement implies that where there is no prince, there must be fear of God. Numa established religion in
Rome in modo che per più secoli non fu mai tanto timore di Dio quanto in quella republica. (Discorsi I. 11)
146
We are told in I. 55 that the Roman senate once enacted an edict requiring the plebs to
contribute to Apollo a portion of their booty from a recent conquest: the plebs protested
openly and indignantly against the edict, but did not even think of evading it by fraud. This
example shows quanta bontà e quanta religione fusse in quel popolo, e quanto bene fusse
da sperare di lui. Machiavelli also cites the example of the modern German republics,
whose citizens pay their taxes according to law, obedient to their oath and their
conscience—[d]onde si può conietturare quanta bontà e quanta religione sia ancora in
quegli uomini.
In republics, religion makes men good, or at any rate it makes an
indispensable contribution to goodness.74
Some will find this contention implausible: they will argue that nothing prevents an
atheist from being at least as good as a religious believer. Machiavelli would insist that, at
least for the generality of mankind, there is no substitute for religion as a basis for morality
and for a sturdy republicanism. He lays particular stress on the need for religion in times of
crisis. Irreligion may seem harmless enough in peace and prosperity, but what about when a
people is staring ruin in the face? Where did the Romans find the strength to persevere after
Hannibal had crushed their army at Cannae? After that great disaster, an assembly of
citizens, despairing of their country, had resolved to flee Italy, when Scipio arrived on the
scene e col ferro ignudo in mano li costrinse a giurare di non abbandonare la patria….E
così quelli cittadini, i quali lo amore della patria, le leggi di quella non ritenevano in Italia,
vi furono ritenuti da un giuramento che furano forzati a pigliare…il che non nacque da
74
The Roman example also shows the limits of religion‘s power, for although the plebs did not think of
committing fraud, neither did it make the desired contribution to Apollo (hence Machiavelli‘s use of the
ambiguous word quanta). A strong people does not like to be taxed, even for a god‘s sake. In the German
example, on the other hand, the people do pay the tax. Does this contrast indicate a certain superiority of
modern over ancient religion, a superiority connected with the notion of the individual conscience (Mansfield
1979, p. 161)? Or is it connected to the fact that the Romans were expansionist whereas the Germans were
not, and in an expansionist republic you cannot control the people a tuo modo (Discorsi I. 6)?
147
altro che da quella religione che Numa aveva introdotto in quella città.75 Ordinary motives
of patriotism and civic duty were not enough to sustain the morale of these Romans: only
religion, only the fact that they feared breaking their oath even more than they feared
Hannibal, proved effective.
Although Machiavelli identifies religion with fear of God, he does not fail to observe
its capacity to inspire hope. The Roman consuls never initiated a battle without first
consulting the auspices and receiving a favorable reply, for victory depended upon the
soldiers‘ having confidence that the gods were on their side.76
Moreover, the power of
religious fear has its limits. The Samnites, having been beaten several times by the Romans,
but resolved to try a final battle in defense of their liberty, turned to religion in order to
render their soldiers obstinate.
During a solemn religious sacrifice they called upon each
soldier to swear that he would never flee from the battle and moreover that he would kill any
fellow soldier he saw fleeing. Whoever hesitated to swear was immediately killed, with the
result that the whole army took this terrible oath. Nevertheless the Samnites lost the ensuing
battle, perché la virtù romana, e il timore conceputo per le passate rotte, superò qualunque
ostinazione ei potessero avere presa per virtù della religione e per il giuramento preso. In
the end the Samnites feared the Romans even more than they feared breaking their oath.77
The story of the Samnites brings out the fact that religion, however important, is not
enough. The Samnites believed they had no remedy but religion a poter pigliare speranza
di ricuperare la perduta virtù. Their defeat shows that where virtue has been lost, there is
no hope of recovering it by religion alone. (Since Machiavelli himself wishes to recover
75
Discorsi I. 11.
76
Ibid. I. 14, III. 33.
77
Ibid. I. 15. Cf. III. 33 on the failure of the Prenestines to frighten the Roman army through superstition.
148
lost virtue, i.e. the virtue of the ancients,78 it is safe to assume that he himself will not rely
exclusively on religion.) Looking again at the example of Scipio and the Romans after
Cannae, we see that it was not religious belief by itself but rather Scipio‘s exploitation of
religious belief that was effective. It was not, in the first instance, fear of the gods but fear
of Scipio, col ferro ignudo in mano, that saved the day. Why then did Scipio succeed while
the Samnites, employing a similar tactic, failed? It seems that whereas Scipio used the
power of a forced oath to rally the panicked citizens and thereby to give Roman virtue—
which had not been lost—a chance to show itself, the Samnites thought that a forced oath
could by itself recreate virtue.
Religion is, then, a necessary but far from sufficient means of forming good citizens.
One must go further and say that according to Machiavelli, religion acting by itself may well
be harmful to the cause of good citizenship. After telling the story of Scipio, Machiavelli
tells how Titus Manlius used religion to rescue his father from certain criminal accusations.
Titus went to the tribune who had accused his father and threatened to kill him if he did not
swear an oath to withdraw the accusations; the tribune swore the oath and kept it. Thus quel
Tribuno pose da parte l’odio che egli aveva col padre, la ingiuria che gli avea fatto il
figliuolo, e l’onore suo, per ubbidire al giuramento preso. This is an illustration of how the
Romans temevano più assai rompere il giuramento che le leggi, come coloro che stimavano
più la potenza di Dio che quella degli uomini.79 The story appears intended to praise
religion‘s power, but one cannot help noticing that it is at the same time a warning about
that power. A magistrate withdraws a criminal accusation at the expense of his own honor,
not to mention the common good, because he believes that even a forced oath must be
obeyed. Men fear to break oaths more than to break the laws, which is to say that they may
78
Discorsi I. Proemio (di quella antiqua virtù non ci è rimasto alcuno segno).
79
Ibid. I. 11.
149
well break laws in order to keep oaths.
These things do not seem very favorable to
republicanism, which requires that magistrates do their public duty and that public laws be
obeyed.80
In short, it is not religion as such that Machiavelli believes to be a vital support for
goodness, but religion well used (bene usata).81 To use religion well is to interpret it well.
The Roman leaders, says Machiavelli, interpreted the auspices according to necessity, i.e.
according to political necessity as discerned by reason. When it was necessary to act against
the auspices, they did so, but without showing open disrespect to religion. Once when a
Roman army and its consul, Papirius, were eager to do battle, but the auspices were not
favorable, the chief augur took it upon himself to falsify the auspices in order to produce the
desired answer. Subsequently, while drawing up his troops for battle, Papirius heard a
report that in fact the auspices had not been favorable. To which he replied that if the augur
had lied, it was he, the augur, who would pay the penalty. To ensure that his prediction
would be borne out, Papirius had all the augurs placed in the front lines, and as the Romans
advanced to meet the enemy, ―by chance‖ a Roman arrow killed the chief augur. When
Papirius heard this, he explained that ogni cosa procedeva bene e col favore degli Dei,
perché lo esercito con la morte di quel bugiardo s’era purgato da ogni colpa e da ogni ira
che quelli avessono presa contro a di lui. In this example, a political-military commander
who is acting against religion avoids the appearance of impiety by piously condemning a
80
Tarcov 2010, p. 2. Later in the Discorsi, Machiavelli will argue explicitly [c]he le promesse fatte per forza
non si debbono osservare (III. 42, title).
81
Discorsi, I. 15 end.
150
high priest. Indeed, he takes the place of the high priest, for he himself gives the final,
authoritative interpretation of the divine will.82
Machiavelli‘s argument is exposed to an obvious objection. If the Romans were
justified in using religion for political ends, this was because their religion, the pagan
religion, was a false one. But to use the true religion in this fashion would be intolerable.
The true religion cannot be ―used‖ but only revered and obeyed. Hence his argument
applies, at best, only to those times and places in which the true religion is not known.
Machiavelli himself admits that there are crucial differences between the pagan religion and
―our religion,‖ one of them being that our religion has shown us ―the truth and the true way‖
(la verità e la vera via). This does not mean, however, that there is no question as to how to
interpret our religion. In fact, our religion has often been interpreted falsely (queste . . . sì
false interpretazioni) and in such a way as to undermine republican life instead of
supporting it. As we have seen, Machiavelli holds that our religion must be interpreted
secondo la virtù, i.e. in such as way as to make men strong and lovers of liberty.83 For it is
not right that the true religion, given for the benefit of mankind,84 should be interpreted in a
way that is destructive of man‘s political well-being. Machiavelli could in this manner
justify interpreting even the true religion according to a reasonable understanding of
political necessity.
82
Ibid. I. 14. In Livy‘s version of this story (Livy X. 40), there is no mention of a chief augur but only of an
augur. By speaking of a chief (principe) of the augurs, Machiavelli makes the reader think of a context beyond
the ancient Roman one.
83
Discorsi II. 2 and above, pp. 93-5. While affirming that our religion has shown us the truth and the true
way, Machiavelli does not specify what truth it has shown us and what the true way is. In II. 19 he speaks of
the true way (la vera via) of making a republic great and acquiring empire. In I. 12 he speaks of the Christian
republic (la republica cristiana). Does the true way shown us by Christianity mean the true way to the other
world (Croce 1925, p. 63), or does it mean the true way of making the Christian republic itself great, i.e. does
Machiavelli refer to Christianity‘s amazing success in conquering this world (Mansfield 1979, p. 249)?
84
―And the Lord commanded us to do all these statutes, to fear the Lord our God, for our good always….‖
Deuteronomy VI. 24 (King James tr.).
151
One might also object that by speaking of the ―use‖ of religion, Machiavelli opens
the door to the cynical manipulation of religion by demagogues. Machiavelli could reply
that demagogues need no assistance from him, and that while religion can certainly be used
for base and cruel purposes,85 the Romans showed that it can also be used for purposes of
high statesmanship. If someone reproved him for being so frank, he could reply that his
historical situation requires it. For he writes at a time when religious authority, instead of
serving to oppose corruption, has become itself the primary source of corruption. In such
circumstances, he could argue, nothing is more needful than a bold reminder of the proper
place of religion in politics.
Modern liberal republics take a different view of the proper place of religion in
politics. They share Machiavelli‘s premise that politics should serve political rather than
religious ends, but instead of subordinating religion to politics, they aim to separate the two.
Religion is not to command politics, nor politics religion. This formal separation, however,
has not prevented liberal republics from regarding religion as politically useful,86 nor from
openly appealing to religious belief, especially in time of war. Nor, again, has religion,
while lacking formal political power, ceased to exercise an influence upon politics
(according to some, an excessive one). Partly on account of this influence, it has lately
become fashionable to speak of our age as ―post-secular.‖
These facts testify to the
continued relevance of Machiavelli‘s analysis. And if his analysis is relevant to liberal
85
Ferdinand of Spain, primo re de’ cristiani, used religion to expel the ―marranos‖ (Jewish and Muslim
converts to Christianity) from Spain; Machiavelli calls this action una pietosa crudeltà and although ostensibly
listing it as one of Ferdinand‘s impressive undertakings, remarks that it could not have been more miserabile
(Principe 21).
86
Tocqueville writes that in America, religion is regarded as the guardian of morals which in turn sustain the
laws and liberty itself (De la démocratie en Amerique, vol. I part 1 ch. 2 end). According to George
Washington, ―[o]f all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, Religion and morality are
indispensable supports.‖ Washington, ―Farewell Address‖ in Grafton 2000, p. 55.
152
regimes, in which religion is relatively weak, all the more will it be relevant to certain other
contemporary regimes, in which religion is more powerful.
The goodness of the people: customs
Another principle of goodness in the people are good customs, buoni costumi, an
expression roughly equivalent to our ―morality‖ and not identical to religion, although not
wholly separable from it. The importance of good customs is indicated by the statement that
così come gli buoni costumi per mantenersi hanno bisogno delle leggi, così le leggi per
osservarsi hanno bisogno de’ buoni costumi.87 The mutual dependence of customs and laws
should not, however, obscure the fact that the former are ultimately in the service of the
latter, for Machiavelli is concerned with good customs (just as he is with religion)
exclusively for their political benefits. Law must support good customs, not for the sake of
good customs, but for the sake of law and law‘s end, which is liberty (or liberty and
empire).88 The reason why law needs good customs may be explained as follows. ―Good
customs‖ may be said to refer especially to certain habits of self-control and self-denial—
habits which are conducive to law-abidingness, for law is restrictive of desire. Habits of
self-indulgence, by contrast, are conducive to the arrogance of the law-breaker. The good
citizen is in the habit of putting the good of others and of the republic before himself; the
bad citizen puts his own good first. A republic needs a strong army: self-denial is essential
to military discipline, while self-indulgence corrupts it. For example, the Roman soldiers
occupying Capua were corrupted by the many delights of that city and forgot their duty to
87
88
Discorsi I. 18 beg.
For law‘s end see ibid. I. 4, in which Machiavelli speaks of tutte le leggi che si fanno in favore della libertà
(and he seems to mean that these are the only good laws). In the same chapter he identifies the publica libertà
with the comune bene. See also I. 29: a free city has due fini, l’uno lo acquistare, l’altro il mantenersi libera.
153
the fatherland.89 Wealth and luxury are corrosive of good customs; hence a well-ordered
republic should keep the public rich and the citizens poor.90 The Roman republic attempted
to support good customs through laws against adultery, sumptuary laws, laws against
electoral corruption, and many other such laws, as well as through the institution of the
censorship: the censors, arbitri de’ costumi di Roma, furono cagione potissima che i Romani
differissono più a corrompersi.91
The cause of liberty, then, is best served by a sober and even austere morality, such
as that of the early Roman republic. This is one of the reasons why Machiavelli is not a
wholehearted imperialist: imperial acquisitions can be morally corrupting, as shown by the
example of Capua mentioned above. Indeed, conquered nations can revenge themselves on
their conqueror without a battle, simply by filling the latter with bad customs (tristi
costumi), and this was ultimately the fate of Rome. If foreign customs can undermine
republican austerity, then one must also beware of excessive immigration. It is striking that
the very last words of the Discorsi are spoken in praise of a Roman censor, Quintus Fabius,
who saved Rome from corruption by limiting the influence of the genti nuove, the new
Roman citizens of foreign origin who had begun to disorder the republic. 92 Even commerce
may be corrupting: the republics of modern Germany, according to Machiavelli, have
remained incorrupt partly for this reason, that being content with the economic goods which
they produce at home, they do not mix with other peoples, so that they have not been
corrupted by French, Spanish and Italian customs. Both empire and commerce are risky
because they entail ―conversations‖ (conversazioni) with other peoples. By removing the
89
Ibid. II. 19.
90
Ibid. I. 37, III. 16, III. 25 beg.
91
Ibid. I. 18, 49.
92
Ibid. III. 49.
154
possibility of such conversations, one will remove also a principle of corruption. Even
conversations with philosophers, or perhaps especially such conversations, may be
corrupting, as was understood very well by Cato (the Censor), who, observing how greatly
the Roman youth were fascinated by some visiting Athenian philosophers, ordered that
henceforth no philosopher should be received in Rome.93
We see that Machiavelli does not shrink from endorsing narrowness, isolation and
philistinism insofar as they are useful for maintaining good customs and hence liberty. In a
word, he can be shockingly moral. In praising the censors, arbitri de’ costumi di Roma, he
shows how much moral authority he is willing to concede to politics. Does he go too far?
According to the 19th century liberal Benjamin Constant, the Roman censorship cannot
serve as a model for modern states. It may have been suitable for the early Roman republic,
with its extreme simplicity of customs (moeurs), but
[e]n France, une institution aussi arbitraire que la censure, serait à la fois inefficace
et intolerable. Dans l’état présent de la société, les moeurs se composent de nuances
fines, ondoyantes, insaisissables, qui se dénatureraient de mille manières, si l’on
tentait de leur donner plus de précision. L’opinion seule peut les atteindre; elle
seule peut les juger, parce qu’elle est de même nature.94
Modern customs, in their wonderful refinement, cannot possibly be regulated by so blunt a
tool as governmental authority.
Machiavelli would probably reply by asking whether
refinement is not a euphemism for corruption. (Certainly French customs used to have a
certain reputation for immorality.) He would no doubt concede that an institution like the
Roman censorship would be ineffective and intolerable in modern society, but he would
probably argue that this is due to the corruption of modern society. Laws and political
93
Ibid. I. 55, II. 19, III. 49, Istorie fiorentine V. 1.
94
―De la Liberté des Anciens Comparée à celle des Modernes‖ (Constant 1997, pp. 610-11).
155
institutions are indeed incapable of regulating customs when those customs have grown
thoroughly corrupt: non si truovano né leggi né ordini che bastino a frenare una universale
corruzione.95 Still, modern society is not thoroughly corrupt: if our civic morality today is
not as pure as that of the early Roman republic, neither is it as degenerate as that of the late
Roman republic.96 Thus to admit, with Constant, that the Roman censorship would be
ineffective, and hence undesirable, in modern society is not to say that modern government
is absolutely powerless to support good customs.
If one admits that laws need good customs or morality, one can hardly deny that they
should support good customs or morality. The only question is how they can perform this
task effectively, and this question cannot be answered in the abstract, perché sarebbe
necessario procedere secondo i gradi della corruzione.97
The objection from moral
relativism is not pertinent. Even if moral relativism were true—even if no one morality
were intrinsically superior to any other—it would still be the case that certain moral habits
are politically salutary. Equally unconvincing is the objection from individual autonomy or
privacy. If there is to be a republic, citizens can claim only such autonomy as is compatible
with the republic‘s survival.
The demarcation of an inviolable private sphere is indeed
necessary, for this is part of the meaning of liberty: quella commune utilità che del vivere
libero si trae . . . è di potere godere liberamente le cose sue sanza alcuno sospetto.98 But
the precise boundaries of that sphere must be subject to political adjudication, and they will
therefore be different in different political circumstances.
95
Discorsi I. 18.
96
For the contrast between the early and the late Roman republic, see ibid. I. 17-18.
97
Ibid. I. 18 beginning.
98
Ibid. I. 16.
156
Yet is not this a very dangerous doctrine?
If one concedes to government an
authority over customs, may not that authority become a pretext for oppression? The
answer to this objection is that every authority not only may but will become a pretext for
oppression, if it is not subject to appropriate limitations and checks. What those limitations
and checks are can be discovered through experience and prudence. For example, the
Romans initially elected the censors to a term of five years. This proved to be excessive,
and through the prudence of the Roman dictator Mamercus the term was reduced to eighteen
months. The censors then in office, however, retaliated against Mamercus by depriving him
of his senatorial privileges, and there is no record that Mamercus was able to defend
himself. If indeed he was not able to do so, comments Machiavelli, then the Roman orders
were on this point defective.99 That is, the checks on the authority of the censors were
probably insufficient, and a lawgiver schooled by Machiavelli ought to be able to improve
on the Roman arrangement.
Moreover, it is not enough to observe that giving government a certain authority over
customs may be dangerous. One must recognize that not doing so is also dangerous, since it
will inevitably lead (if Machiavelli is right that good customs need the support of law) to the
corruption of customs and hence the weakening of laws. There are no safe options in
politics, but only more and less unsafe ones.100 In any case, it may be observed that in spite
of their professed neutrality, modern liberal governments do, in fact, regulate moral habits to
a certain extent (for example, in the public schools and the armed forces).
That Machiavelli‘s assertion regarding the mutual dependence of laws and good
customs remains valid today has been affirmed, as we have noted, by the contemporary
99
Ibid. I. 49 beg.
100
Principe 21 near the end.
157
republican Philip Pettit.
If law is to be respected and obeyed there is a need for ―habits of
civic virtue or good citizenship‖ or for what may be called ―civility.‖ As civility supports
law, so law can help the cause of civility. It can do so, says Pettit, largely by staying out of
the way, by avoiding ―heavy-handed patterns of control.‖
For civility is largely self-
maintaining, through the operation of what Pettit calls ―the intangible hand,‖ i.e. through the
power of social approbation and disapprobation. The desire for the good opinion of others
and the fear of their bad opinion is usually enough to assure good behavior. As the invisible
hand is said to produce marvels in economics, so the intangible hand can produce ―marvels
. . . in the supply of civic virtue.‖101 We see that Pettit, in spite of his nod to Machiavelli, in
fact accepts the view of the liberal Constant: only opinion can regulate customs.
Now Machiavelli is by no means unaware of the power of opinion over customs and
conduct: the desire for the good opinion of others, and in particular the desire for honor and
glory, is for him a primary means of making men good or virtuous. The Romans, he notes
approvingly, gave their captains a wide authority in making war, so that if a captain was
victorious he alone would reap the glory, lo amore della quale giudicavano che fusse freno e
regola a farlo operare bene.102 A difficulty is that glory can sometimes be won through
actions that, even if virtuous (in a Machiavellian sense), are not good, as for example certain
actions of Caesar, who gloriously defeated his enemies and made himself prince of Rome.
Society does not always assign glory and, in general, approbation, correctly or prudently. It
tends to honor not only good men, but also wealthy or powerful men who are not good, or
whose goodness is a means to tyrannical authority: Caesar acquired such authority by taking
the side of the people against the grandi and by his liberality. It might be said that Caesar
could do this because the Roman people of his time was corrupt. But the same kind of error
101
Pettit 1997 pp. 242, 245, 254-5. For the ―intangible hand‖ see also pp. 225-229.
102
Discorsi II. 33. Cf. I. 43 title (Quelli che combattono per la gloria propria sono buoni e fedeli soldati).
158
was committed by that people in its early and most incorrupt period: when a certain Spurius
Melius attempted to use his private wealth to relieve the people from famine, he was
accorded so much favor by the people that the Senate was compelled to appoint a dictator in
order to eliminate him.103 Given the gross errors of which opinion or the ―intangible hand‖
is capable, law and government cannot afford merely to stay out of the way: they cannot
help but defend the conditions within which opinion can perform its function well. This is
not to deny that law and government will often be most effective in this task when they
avoid ―heavy-handed patterns of control.‖ The greatest legislator, as Rousseau says, may be
he who knows how to mold customs and opinion without appearing to do so.104
Goodness and corruption: Skinner’s view
Government—so
argues
Machiavelli—through
education,
manipulation
or
compulsion, can and must act upon religion and customs in order to make the people good
or keep them good. In this sense it is not misleading to attribute to Machiavelli, as Skinner
does, the principle ―that the law can and must be used . . . to force us to be free.‖105
Skinner‘s thesis is that this Machiavellian principle represents a genuine, and still
defensible, third way between liberalism and Aristotelianism. For while Machiavelli‘s
concern with making citizens good distinguishes him from liberals, he never justifies this
concern by ―the ultimately Aristotelian suggestion that we are moral beings with certain true
ends and rational purposes.‖106 Goodness, moral virtue or civic virtue is required not
103
Discorsi I. 17, 37 near the end, 52 end (cf. I. 10), III. 28; Principe 16 (for Caesar‘s liberality).
104
Rousseau, Du Contrat Social II. 12, penultimate paragraph.
105
Skinner 2002a, p. 177 and, generally, pp. 160-185. The expression ―force to be free‖ is, of course, not
Machiavelli‘s but Rousseau‘s (Du Contrat Social I. vii end).
106
Skinner 2002a, pp. 177, 189, 210-212. In fact, as we have seen (above, pp. 55-7), Machiavelli does not
deny that man has ―certain true ends,‖ but he does deny that those ends are moral, whereas Aristotle asserts
that at least some of man‘s ends are moral.
159
because man finds his natural fulfillment in these things, but simply because they are
necessary for the maintenance of liberty.107
indispensable means.
Liberty is the end, virtue merely the
Liberals, according to Skinner, have forgotten about virtue‘s
indispensability.
It seems to us that there is a good deal of truth in Skinner‘s thesis and that he has
made a valuable contribution. This is not to say we find his argument entirely satisfactory.
For one thing, he believes that goodness or good citizenship, for Machiavelli, entails public
service in the sense of active participation in politics. For history shows that when the
generality of citizens in a republic fail to take an active part in public affairs, that republic
falls under the sway of despots or is conquered by a foreign power. If we are not politicians
by choice, we must be politicians by necessity:
Machiavelli‘s basic claim is . . . that, if we wish to prevent our government from
falling into the hands of tyrannical individuals or groups, we must organize it in
such a way that it remains in the hands of the citizen-body as a whole. It is only if
everyone remains willing to place their talents at the disposal of the community that
the bene comune, the common good or public interest, can be upheld and factional
interests controlled. And it is only if this happens that the personal liberty of each
individual citizen can be secured. In the classical oxymoron that Machiavelli is
restating, freedom is a form of service, since devotion to public service is held to be
a necessary condition of maintaining personal liberty.108
In support of the assertion that Machiavelli‘s republicanism is participatory, Skinner cites
Discorsi III. 8 and 41.109 In III. 8, Machiavelli explains the failure of Manlius Capitolinus to
achieve tyranny in the early Roman republic. Manlius failed because the Romans were then
107
Skinner 2002a, p. 211.
108
Ibid., p. 163.
109
Ibid., p. 163 n. 13.
160
incorrupt and in tutti loro potè più lo amore della patria che alcuno altro rispetto. Hence
Manlius received no support from the senate or the tribunes and was ultimately condemned
to death by the people. At first glance this example may seem to illustrate what Skinner
calls ―devotion to public service‖ on the part of ―the citizen-body as a whole.‖ On closer
inspection, however, the picture becomes more complicated. It would be beautiful to be
able to report that Manlius was defeated because the citizen-body rose up as one man and
defied his tyrannical ambitions, but unfortunately this is not what Machiavelli says occurred.
Manlius had in fact been making a good deal of headway with the people through his
demagoguery until the senate, alarmed, created a dictator who formally accused him and
brought him to trial. Only at the trial did the people, diventato di difensore giudice, come to
its senses and condemn Manlius. In other words, in the case of Manlius as in the case of
Spurius Melius, it took a dictator to suppress an aspiring tyrant who had won the people‘s
favor.110 This is hardly a shining example of participatory republicanism. It is true that
Roman patriotism or amore della patria proved in the end to be stronger than all other
considerations, but only under certain very specific conditions which had to be deliberately
created. As for III. 41, this chapter concerns what considerations should be taken into
account when the patria is in grave danger; it is addressed to the particular citizen who may
be in a position to give advice to the patria and makes no reference to public service on the
part of the citizen-body as a whole.
Skinner is on firmer ground when he refers to Machiavelli‘s emphasis on the need
for broad-based military service.111 On this point Machiavelli indeed insists in all of his
major works: a republic (or a principality, for that matter) whose citizens are not also
110
For Manlius‘ influence with the people, see Discorsi I. 8. The phrase diventato di difensore giudice in III. 8
clearly refers to and confirms what was said in I. 8.
111
Skinner 2002a, p. 206.
161
soldiers cannot defend itself; it will find itself in the pathetic condition of the modern Italian
states which must rely on essentially unreliable mercenaries. Unless the whole citizen-body,
or a large part of it, is prepared or compelled to go to war when necessary, with all the
sacrifices which that act entails, liberty is not secure. Nor is military service the only sphere
in which the mass of citizens will play a part in public life. In fact, precisely because of its
military service, the people, as we saw in chapter 2, necessarily acquires political power: a
disarmed people can be kept down, but an armed people, conscious of its strength and
importance, will demand its liberty and its share of the public wealth and honors. An armed
and numerous people will defend itself against the tyranny of the grandi, and in so doing
will acquire, directly or through representatives (such as the Roman tribunes), a certain
permanent authority.112 The actions taken by the people in defending itself against the
grandi are not, however, properly described by the phrase ―devotion to public service:‖ the
people acts, in such cases, not to serve the republic but to defend its own class interests, as
Skinner himself recognizes.113 As Machiavelli puts it in Discorsi III. 8, the people of Rome
was, as a rule, desiderosissimo del’utile proprio e amatore delle cose che venivano contro
alla Nobilità. The public good may very well be the beneficiary of the people‘s actions—
Machiavelli famously argues that this is so114—but any such result is wholly unintentional.
The appropriate contemporary analogy is to workers who go on strike: their action may
serve the public good, but no one would call them selfless public servants. Nor is it obvious
that one must ―organise the polity in such a way that every citizen is equally able to play a
part in determining the actions of the body politic as a whole,‖ as Skinner supposes.115 Or
112
Discorsi I. 3-6.
113
Skinner 2002a, p. 179.
114
Discorsi I. 4.
115
Skinner 2002a, p. 206.
162
rather, this statement is true if it means that every citizen should have the right to hold even
the highest offices.116 It goes too far if it means that, for Machiavelli, every citizen must
actually hold office or participate in public deliberations.
In any case, the principle of ―devotion to public service‖ is not Skinner‘s last word.
Somewhat to our surprise, he goes on to say that for Machiavelli, such devotion is not really
to be expected; what is to be expected is corruption, that is, the blind pursuit of one‘s private
good over the public good—blind because it ignores the extent to which one‘s private good
depends on the public good. It is doubtful whether this blindness can be overcome by even
the best education—whether the truly enlightened citizen, who reliably acts upon the
principle that public service is in his own best interest, can be produced on a large scale.
The question, therefore, is no longer how to induce citizens to devote themselves
wholeheartedly to the common good, which now appears to be impossible, but how to
devise ―some mechanism for preventing [their] inescapably corrupt motives from having
their natural but self-destructive effects.‖ To answer this question will be to uncover ―the
deepest secret of psychology and statecraft.‖117
If citizens are inescapably corrupt and hence cannot be controlled by their own civic
virtue, they can only be controlled by other corrupt citizens. Corruption must balance
corruption, or in the words of James Madison, ―[a]mbition must be made to counteract
ambition.‖118 The ―mechanism‖ which produces the common good will be a kind of tension
or conflict. The most basic conflict in every republic, as we have seen, is that between the
grandi and the people. Liberty is possible as long as this conflict continues—as long as
neither of these corrupt parties is able to dominate the other. Each party must therefore be
116
Discorsi I. 60.
117
Skinner 2002a, pp. 163-5; the quotations are on p. 165.
118
The Federalist Papers 51 (Hamilton, Madison and Jay 2003, p. 319).
163
empowered to resist the other‘s encroachments; this is achieved by the right kind of ordini.
In Rome, for instance, the grandi defended their interests through the senate; the people,
through the tribunes. The skillful construction of ordini, more than the formation of good
citizens, is the key to the perpetuation of a free society. For such ordini, affirms Skinner in
the language of Mandeville, have the power of ―converting private vices into public
benefits.‖ This, then, is the central political problem: how to get a good result from bad
motives.
Yet whereas Machiavelli reflects profoundly on this problem, says Skinner,
contemporary liberal theorists ignore it: hence the decisive superiority of Machiavelli.
Contemporary liberals go wrong because of their ―individualistic premises:‖ they begin with
a doctrine of individual rights, such as the right to liberty, and then ask how such rights can
best be protected. Though Machiavelli, too, is ultimately concerned with the protection of
individual liberty, it is significant that he never speaks of ―rights.‖119 By not starting from a
doctrine of inalienable rights, Machiavelli, in comparison to liberals, retains a greater
latitude as to the means of securing liberty. He can go further in considering the ways in
which, if liberty is to endure, we citizens must be guided, manipulated and even coerced into
doing what we would never do spontaneously.
Liberals believe primarily in negative
coercion, in preventing other individuals and the government from invading our rights.
Machiavelli believes, more strongly than liberals do, also in the necessity of positive
coercion—in the necessity of inducing or forcing us ―into discharging the full range of our
civic duties.‖ This was the necessity recognized by Scipio after Cannae, when he exploited
the Romans‘ belief in the sanctity of oaths in order to compel them to continue the fight
against Hannibal. To sum up, we must be forced to be free, in the sense that we must be
119
Skinner 2002a, pp. 177-184, 210-212.
164
forced or induced to perform those civic duties and practice those civic virtues without
which liberty cannot be secure.120
Assuming that Skinner‘s critique is directed not merely at this or that contemporary
liberal theorist but at liberalism as a whole, we believe that he somewhat overstates the
contrast between Machiavelli and liberalism. Liberals are less hostile to the notion of being
―forced to be free‖ than one might suppose—than even liberals themselves might suppose.
For instance, liberal governments claim the authority to force citizens to perform military
service; those entering upon such service are commonly required to swear an oath. This
almost Scipionic practice means that citizens can not only be forced to defend their own
liberty, but can even be forced to sacrifice their lives for the liberty of others. On what basis
do liberal governments justify this extreme form of coercion? Ultimately, they do so on the
basis of necessity; necessity would also be Machiavelli‘s justification.
Furthermore,
liberals surely do not ignore the maxim ―private vices, public benefits,‖ for this maxim, or
something like it (substitute ―self-interest‖ for ―vices‖), is the basis of capitalism. Skinner
contends that liberals rely too much on the invisible hand,121 but the difference, if any,
between the doctrine of the invisible hand and the doctrine of ―private vices, public
benefits‖ needs clarification.122 The attempt to convert private vice or self-interest into
public benefits also informs liberal constitutionalism, as indicated by Madison‘s statement
about ambition counteracting ambition: given the proper checks and balances (modi e
ordini, as Machiavelli would say), bad or imperfect motives are no obstacle to obtaining a
120
Skinner 1990a, pp. 305-6.
121
Skinner 1990a, p. 304.
122
Pettit, for example (1997, p. 204), traces the former doctrine to the latter one. For the role of self-interest in
increasing the wealth of nations, see Discorsi II. 2 (the passage beginning Veggonvisi le ricchezze
multiplicare) and Principe 21 end.
165
good result. From Machiavelli, in short, one can learn not only to criticize liberalism but
also to appreciate its virtues.
Nevertheless, Skinner is not wrong to insist on a fundamental difference between
Machiavelli and liberalism: this difference concerns the status of rights. It has been argued,
in opposition to Skinner, that liberalism, by focusing on rights, does not necessarily neglect
the need for civic duty; it merely asserts that civic duty must be in the service of rights.123
This argument does not suffice to overcome the impression that under liberalism rights
greatly overshadow duties, that corruption, in Machiavelli‘s sense, is no longer a central
theme, and that government is granted less authority to promote goodness than Machiavelli
would consider prudent. We cannot pursue this point further within the bounds of this
thesis.
Regeneration and inequality
Skinner‘s Machiavelli seems, then, to be of two minds as regards corruption.
Sometimes he distinguishes between incorruption and corruption (incorruption being
devotion to public service or the common good and corruption being blind pursuit of one‘s
self-interest) and looks for ways to promote incorruption. At other times, despairing of the
very possibility of incorruption, he looks for mechanisms by which even corrupt behavior
will produce results favorable to the common good. But Machiavelli is not uncertain or
confused; rather, the ambiguity of his argument reflects an ambiguity in the nature of
incorruption as he conceives it. The fundamental problem is that incorruption is not natural,
or at any rate not as natural as corruption. The power of the self-regarding passions is
naturally stronger than the power of the other-regarding passions. This is why it is prudent
for the legislator to presuppose that all men are bad. Men often claim to be acting selflessly,
123
Patten 1996, p. 32.
166
but such claims must be evaluated carefully. As Kant puts it, though most of our actions
may conform externally with duty, when one examines motives ―one encounters everywhere
the dear self.‖124 This is not to suggest that Machiavellian man is selfish in the sense that he
is motivated only by utility and profit: he is also, of course, motivated by envy, by spite, by
revenge, by love of glory—by passions which may lead him to sacrifice his utility and
profit, as commonly defined. The Roman nobles, after the death of the Tarquins, offended
the plebs in every way they could, thus provoking a crisis which led to a diminution of their
own authority. A man who has been gravely injured by a prince will, if he has any
generosity or pride, seek to revenge himself by any possible means, come che egli vi vedesse
dentro il suo proprio male. Claudio Nerone, having been dishonored by his fellow citizens
for his conduct in a certain battle, gambled the liberty of Rome upon another battle that was
unnecessary and very risky, reasoning that if he won he would recover his glory, while if he
lost, he would at least have brought ruin upon his ungrateful country. 125 Corrupt or selfinterested behavior may be said to include everything that men do to gratify their strongest
passions. Or could one of those strongest passions be a passion for justice? This is what
Machiavelli seems to doubt. As to compassion, he certainly does not deny its existence, but
he argues that compassionate actions often conceal a tyrannical impulse.126
As to
patriotism, see our discussion above of Discorsi III. 8.127
124
Discorsi I. 3 beginning; Kant 1997, p. 45. Because of the power of selfishness, moral duty for Kant, as for
Machiavelli, is emphatically coercive (cf. ibid, p. 57), the only difference being that Kant recognizes a kind of
coercion, the categorical imperative, which Machiavelli surely would not recognize. For neither thinker is
there a natural love of moral virtue for its own sake.
125
Discorsi I. 3, II. 28, III. 17.
126
Ibid. III. 28, title: molte volte sotto una opera pia si nasconde uno principio di tirannide . The word pia
could also be translated ―pious;‖ this chapter seems to present an implicit critique of Christian piety and
charity (cf. the use of the word dannare toward the beginning of the chapter).
127
Above, pp. 159-60.
167
Since incorruption is not natural, corruption, which is natural, lurks just beneath the
surface of even the most incorrupt peoples or individuals.128 Incorruption is not selfsustaining but needs repeated reinforcement from the outside. From this perspective, man is
always and essentially corrupt in the sense that he is always and essentially self-interested.
Yet this simple generalization does not do justice to one‘s experience of the wide
differences among peoples and among individuals as regards their corruption or
incorruption, their ―civility‖ or lack thereof. Machiavelli is much struck by the contrast
between the hardy, honest and liberty-loving peoples of modern Germany and other
European peoples who lack such virtues.129
It is meaningful to distinguish between
corruption and incorruption because of one‘s experience of the differences of customs. Still,
as impressed as Machiavelli is by the power and persistence of customs,130 he is even more
impressed by how changeable they are. For as already noted, the persistence of incorrupt
customs depends, even if invisibly, upon certain sustaining conditions, or on the exclusion
of certain bad influences. Move the Church of Rome to Switzerland and that court‘s wicked
customs will disorder that country in poco tempo. An absolute authority will corrupt an
incorrupt people in brevissimo tempo. And when well-disciplined soldiers of ancient Rome
were introduced to the delights of Capua, they forgot the fatherland. As to the Germans,
their goodness depends on the fact that they have limited contact with foreigners. But this
limitation is possible only because they are not expansionist, and they can afford not to be
128
Discorsi I. 41.
129
Ibid. I. 55. See also Rapporto delle cose della Magna and Ritratto delle cose della Magna in Opere, pp. 6371.
130
Discorsi III. 9 (when a man has long behaved in a certain manner, whether through natural inclination or
through habit, and has prospered in so doing, it is not possible to persuade him to behave otherwise), 43
(peoples retain through all generations the same nature or customs) and 46 (the same is true of families).
168
expansionist only because of certain very unusual political conditions; if those conditions
were to alter, so would the whole German way of life.131
As customs can swiftly degenerate, so they can swiftly be regenerated. Pelopidas
and Epaminondas found the Thebans servile and effeminate, yet in breve tempo they formed
them into an army capable of defeating the most renowned soldiers of the age, the Spartans.
Nothing, indeed, can excuse a government that fails to produce good soldiers: è più vero che
alcuna altra verità che, se dove è uomini non è soldati, nasce per difetto del principe. What
is true of a people‘s military character is true of its character generally: if a people behaves
badly, this is due not to its own bad nature but to its bad government: gli peccati de’ popoli
nascono dai principi.132 Thus Machiavelli can go so far as to speak of the people as ―matter‖
and the government as ―form,‖ as if the relation between the two were like that of clay to a
potter. 133
It is true that the virtue of Thebes evaporated after the death of Epaminondas, and
Machiavelli raises the question, toward the end of Discorsi I. 17, as to whether the enduring
regeneration of corrupt ―matter‖ is really possible. He seems to answer the question in the
negative. A corrupt people cannot be regenerated by good orders (since, as will be explained
in I. 18, good orders need good customs to sustain them) but only by the action of an
individual statesman, and such a statesman cannot live long enough to make a permanent
improvement in a people‘s bad customs: as soon as he dies, they revert to their former
disorder. But Machiavelli immediately amends this negative answer by introducing a new
consideration: the cause of corruption, he says now, is inequality. To regenerate a corrupt
131
Ibid. I. 12 end, 35 (cf. 42), 55, II. 19. In other words, the fact that, under normal conditions, republics are
compelled to expand means that they are compelled to accept a certain degree of corruption.
132
133
Ibid. I. 21 (breve spelled brieve in the text), III. 29 (title).
E.g. Discorsi I. 17, III. 8. Cf. Principe 6: fortune provided Moses and other new princes materia a potere
introdurvi dentro quella forma che parse loro; and 26: in Italia non manca materia da introdurvi ogni forma.
169
city means, above all, to reduce it to equality, and this reduction is entirely possible, though
it may require grandissimi straordinari, i quali pochi sanno o vogliono usare. Machiavelli‘s
negative answer, we perceive, was merely provisional; it was an accommodation to the
natural human tendency to doubt the possibility of radical change, a tendency born of
ignorance or timidity. The meaning of inequality and of grandissimi straordinari becomes
clear in I. 55. There it is explained that the German peoples are good because of their
relative isolation, but also for another reason, namely their intolerance of ―gentlemen‖
(gentiluomini): if any such persons fall into their hands, come principii di corrutele e
cagione d’ogni scandolo, gli ammazzono.
Gentlemen are, in general, those who live in
leisure from abundant landed wealth, but the worst kind are those who possess castles and
command subjects.134 Such gentlemen are corrupt ―matter:‖ the word ―matter‖ does not
refer only to the people. But whereas a people can be either corrupt or incorrupt, there is
apparently no such thing as an incorrupt gentleman. Gentlemen cannot be reformed: if
someone wishes to establish a republic in a place where there are many gentlemen, he
cannot do so without first eliminating all of them (se prima non gli spegne tutti). The
greatness of such an undertaking, says Machiavelli, demands a rare brain and a stout heart,
and many have wished to undertake it but few have succeeded. We would suggest that these
words, seemingly a caution, are in fact an incitement to action, aimed at those able and
daring readers who long to accomplish great things.
Gentlemen are objectionable chiefly insofar as they possess private authority over
other men, for healthy republican life depends on the unchallenged supremacy of public
authority over private authority. The dissolution of the ancient Roman republic had two
134
It has been suggested that the term ―gentlemen‖ refers not only to certain classes of gentry and feudal
nobility but also, and even primarily, to clerics. See Mansfield 1979, p. 164 and Rahe 2008, p. 88. Be this as
it may, while Machiavelli‘s hostility to gentlemen who live in castles and command subjects is easily
understood, the reason for his hostility to gentlemen who are merely landed and leisured is less obvious and
requires further study.
170
causes: the conflict over the agrarian laws and the prolongation of military commands.
What these causes have in common is the weakness of the public authority in relation to
private authority. For as regards the conflict over the agrarian laws, when the public
magistrates could no longer control the strife between nobles and plebs, si ricorse ai rimedi
privati, e ciascuna delle parti pensò di farsi uno capo che la difendesse. The prolongation
of military commands allowed a general to gain his army for himself, perché quello esercito
col tempo dimenticava il Senato e riconosceva quello capo. The civil war between Mario
and Sulla, foreshadowing that between Caesar and Pompey, was sparked by the conflict
over the agrarian laws, and it was made possible by the fact that both men could raise
private armies.135 As we learn from the Istorie fiorentine, the fatal defect of modern Italians
cities, and in particular of Florence, is that the public authority has never been strong enough
to hold in check the private factions whose mutual strife, in consequence, has so frequently
terminated in blood and exile. (Shakespeare‘s tragedy Romeo and Juliet begins from this
problem.) This political impotence gives rise to moral corruption, to a state of things in
which men have lost respect for every kind of restraint, in which there is no fear of God and
no faith, in which successful dishonesty is praised while goodness is blamed as foolish, in
which the young are lazy and the old lascivious.136
The factional strife of Florence has produced many great evils but one great benefit:
it has eliminated inequality. For the Florentine people, in destroying the power of the old
nobility, has indeed deprived the city of generosity and the virtue of arms, but has also
reduced Florence to a wonderful (mirabile) equality, so that da uno savio datore di legge
135
Discorsi I. 37 toward the end and III. 24 beg. and end; cf. I. 7-8.
136
Istorie fiorentine III. 1, 5. For the problem of faction, see also Discorsi I. 7-8.
171
potrebbe essere in qualunque forma di governo riordinata.137 As Machiavelli says in
Discorsi I. 55, since in Tuscany there are so few gentlemen and there is so much equality,
facilmente da uno uomo prudente, e che delle antiche civilità avesse cognizione, vi
s’introdurrebbe uno vivere civile. He says this in spite of the fact that he said earlier in the
same chapter that Italian customs are deeply corrupt (la corrutela del mondo). Would not
the corruption of Italian customs obstruct the reform of Tuscan politics? But in I. 55 there
occurs a shift or an ascent from corruption as corruption of religion and customs to
corruption as inequality. Machiavelli‘s last word is that once one has solved the problem of
inequality—if necessary through grandissimi straordinari—everything else is easy, if one
knows what one is doing. This does not mean that religion and customs are not important,
but it does suggest that they are ―matter‖ which can be given form by political means.
Memorable executions
Once corruption has been overcome and a vivere civile has been introduced, that
way of life must be preserved. In Discorsi III. 1, we learn that even the most incorrupt
republic will, in the natural course of things, become corrupt; little by little, time will
disorder it. In the end it must perish, for tutte le cose del mondo hanno il termine della vita
loro. Machiavelli does not, however, contemplate this necessity with resignation or with
tragic pathos. No ―alas‖ drops from his pen. He introduces the natural law of decay only in
order to show how it may be successfully counteracted, and how the life of a republic may
be extended, if not eternally, at any rate indefinitely. To preserve a republic, he says, one
must lead it back to its beginnings. For the beginnings must have had some good in them
through which that republic grew and acquired reputation. Machiavelli advises, then, a
137
Istorie fiorentine III. 1. Modern Florence has the advantage in this respect over the late Roman republic,
which sanza avere un principe non si poteva mantenere (ibid.).
172
periodic return to goodness, to the goodness of the beginnings: he starts with a formulation
pleasing to conservatives and traditionalists.
The return to the beginnings should be effected through orders and laws which
repress men‘s ambition and insolence. Examples of Roman orders of this kind are the
tribunes of the plebs and the censors. These orders and laws do not operate by themselves
but a spirited citizen must ―execute them‖ (esequirli). Of such ―executions‖ (esecuzioni),
Machiavelli gives a number of Roman examples, most of which were executions in our
modern sense, i.e. capital ones, and all of which were directed against prominent citizens.
For it is when executions are ―excessive and notable‖ that they bring men back to their duty.
Such executions must occur regularly, at least once every ten years, perché, passato questo
tempo, gli uomini cominciano a variare con i costumi e trapassare le leggi, e se non nasce
cosa, per la quale si riduca loro a memoria la pena e rinnuovisi negli animi loro la paura,
concorrono tosto tanti delinquenti che non si possono più punire senza pericolo. The
purpose of excessive and notable executions is to remind men of punishment and to renew
their fear. Returning to the beginning means returning to fear. The beginning was not a
Golden Age of sweetness and harmony; in the beginning there was an execution. For dopo
una mutazione di Stato o da republica in tirannide o da tirannide in republica, è necessaria
una esecuzione memorabile contro a’ nimici delle condizioni presenti.138 It must not be
supposed that Machiavelli is here recommending a Reign of Terror, than which nothing
could be more un-Machiavellian. A Reign of Terror is unnecessary and it is also imprudent,
since it provokes men to take extreme measures in order to defend themselves.139 What is
138
139
Discorsi III. 3.
See Ibid. I. 45 end and Principe 17 beg. (con pochissimi esempli). This is not to deny that certain
circumstances may, in Machiavelli‘s view, necessitate a mass execution, for example the circumstances which
moved Clearchus to eliminate the ottimati (Discorsi I. 16). It must also be conceded that not all Reigns of
Terror have provoked men to defend themselves, or at any rate to defend themselves successfully: one thinks
of modern ―totalitarian‖ regimes. This question requires further study.
173
necessary, rather, is that periodically one or a few powerful and ambitious citizens should be
punished in a memorable way, so that other such citizens will remember to be afraid. (Note
that Machiavelli is less concerned with punishing justly than he is with punishing
memorably.)
If Machiavelli‘s argument is correct, republicans today ought not to be
distressed by the occurrence of political ―scandals,‖ for such scandals, properly managed,
are the salvation of a republic. Rather, republicans ought to be distressed if scandals do not
occur regularly, and if they do not result in the memorable punishment of prominent
persons.
Yet the return to the beginning may be effected not only in this way, but also by the
example of a virtuous man, which, without the need for any execution, inspires good men to
imitation and makes bad men ashamed. Thus whereas for Hobbes, ―[t]he passion to be
reckoned upon is fear,‖140 Machiavelli‘s view is more complex: at least in the case of an
incorrupt republic, good behavior is motivated not only by fear, but also by admiration and
shame. It is true that, in Rome, the effect of virtuous examples was not precisely the same
as the effect of memorable executions but rather was ―almost‖ the same.
With this
―almost‖, Machiavelli seems to caution us not to rely too much on such examples. After all,
some bad men are shameless, but even the shameless are given pause by a memorable
execution.
Of the examples of virtuous Romans cited by Machiavelli, typical are Horatius
Cocles, who saved Rome by defending the bridge alone against an enemy army; Scaevola,
who, captured after a failed attempt to assassinate the enemy king Porsenna, burned his own
right hand in the fire to show his contempt for Porsenna‘s threats of punishment; and the
two Decii, each of whom, as general, sacrificed himself in battle in order to inspire his
140
Hobbes, Leviathan 14 end (Hobbes 1994, p. 88).
174
soldiers to victory. The common thread in the examples is a contempt for one‘s own
advantage and a willingness to expose oneself to harm, even to bring harm upon oneself—a
willingness, one might say, to perform an execution upon oneself. 141 In reality, then, there
is always a need for a memorable execution, whether of others or of oneself. Only in this
way can one rouse men from the drowsy comfort of normal times and, by renewing their
fear and wonder, renew their goodness.
Immediately after giving these examples, Machiavelli turns from the preservation of
republics to that of ―sects,‖ i.e. religions, and he explains how Saint Francis and Saint
Dominic have renewed Christianity by bringing it back to its beginning: through poverty
and the example of the life of Christ, and through the doctrine of passive obedience, they
have maintained questa religione and with it the dishonest rule of the prelates. For they tell
the people that if the prelates err, one should let God punish them. Thus the prelates fanno il
peggio che possono, perché non temono quella punizione che non veggono e non credono.
To be memorable, punishment must be visible, and this means that it must be performed by
human beings. As to the possibility and desirability of a memorable execution against the
prelates themselves, this was the subject of Discorsi I. 27.
By juxtaposing virtuous Roman examples with virtuous Christian ones, Machiavelli
induces the reader to ask about the relation between the two kinds of virtue. Both are
characterized by self-sacrifice. But whereas Scaevola declared, as Livy reports, that et
facere et pati fortia Romanum est, Christianity, says Machiavelli, vuole che tu sia atto a
141
Cf. Mansfield 1979, p. 303. The other examples are Fabricius, who informed his enemy, Pyrrhus, of a plot
to poison him (for Fabricius wished to win by valor, not by treachery); Regulus Attilius, who advised the
Romans to reject a peace overture from Carthage, although he knew this rejection would result in his own
death; Cato the Elder, riputato santo (Discorsi I. 29); and Cato the Younger, celebrated for his inflexible
honesty and for his decision to commit suicide rather than live by the grace of Caesar.
175
patire più che a fare una cosa forte.142 While Machiavelli recognizes the awe-inspiring
character of Christian self-sacrifice, he suggests that a no less awe-inspiring kind of selfsacrifice was already practiced in pagan Rome.
Whereas the Roman kind served to
perpetuate liberty, because it was a self-sacrifice of proud doers, the Christian kind has
served to perpetuate despotism, because it is a self-sacrifice of humble sufferers.
Of the various reasons why this harsh judgment on Christianity might be held
unsatisfactory, the most important for present purposes is that it is difficult to reconcile with
the experience of later republics, such as the United States, in which Christianity has proven
to be not only compatible with liberty but even indispensable to it.143 Machiavelli is not,
however, unaware of this kind of possibility. He points to the modern Swiss and German
republics, in which religion—i.e. the Christian religion—is practiced secondo gli antichi, i.e.
in such a way as to support free institutions.144 He claims in Discorsi II. 2 that the fault lies
not in Christianity itself, but in the baseness of men who have interpreted it secondo l’ozio e
non secondo la virtù. Perché, se considerassono come la ci permette la esaltazione e la
difesa della patria, vedrebbono come la vuole che noi l’amiamo e onoriamo e prepariamoci
a essere tali che noi la possiamo difendere. The weakness of liberty in modern times is due
(or so Machiavelli seems to assert) not to Christianity but to queste educazioni e sì false
interpretazioni. Rather than simply rejecting Christianity, republicans can give it its true
interpretation, its politically salutary interpretation, its interpretation secondo virtù.
142
Livy II. 12, Discorsi II. 2.
143
See above, p. 151 n. 86.
144
Discorsi I. 12 end, 55.
176
Conclusion
At the beginning of this chapter we were puzzled by the centrality, in the Discorsi, of
the problem of corruption, the very notion of which seemed out of place in Machiavelli. If
men are, in the beginning or by nature, not good but bad, what sense is there in speaking of
corruption? Discorsi III. 1 sheds some light on this difficulty. Its point of departure is a
certain natural science, a science of bodies. It begins by observing that tutte le cose del
mondo hanno il termine della vita loro, i.e. that everything which comes into being must
pass away. The things of the world that do not pass away prematurely but live out the full
term of their existence are the ones that do not disorder il corpo loro. While individual
human beings are corpi semplici,145 collectivities such as republics or sects may be
described as corpi misti. In this context of natural science, corruption is not a moral quality
but merely refers to the disorder or dissolution of a ―mixed body.‖ Corruption is the
opposite of generation. To return to the beginning means to return, not to the first beginning
simply, but to the first generation, the first ordering. The first beginning simply may well
have been a state of disorder rather than order, as suggested by the remark in I. 17 that
Thebes, after the death of Epaminondas, si ritornò ne’ primi disordini suoi. There are, it
would seem, two kinds of beginnings, only one of which may with any confidence be called
good. If it is by contrast to the good beginning—the one characterized by generation, by
ordering, and also by a memorable execution—that corruption is to be defined, then
Machiavelli can speak of corruption with perfect sincerity and coherence.
Yet even in III. 1, he quickly moves beyond a natural-scientific presentation of
corruption to one that pays due regard to men‘s moral sensibilities. The shock of the Gallic
invasion, he remarks, induced Rome to return to the observance of religion and justice, le
145
Discorsi II. 5; cf. Inglese 2008, p. 575 n. 3.
177
quali in lei cominciavano a macularsi—using a term, macularsi, with strong moraltheological overtones.146 The natural-scientific presentation is inadequate, for it ignores the
fact that men do not believe that goodness is no more than a quality conducive to the
preservation of a ―mixed body.‖
Goodness and moral virtue are believed to be
choiceworthy also for their own sake and not merely for the sake of their political utility.
Outstanding examples of moral virtue are of such power that good men desire to imitate
them and bad men feel ashamed. No one would assert, of course, that Machiavelli‘s own
opinion is identical to that of the good men who desire to imitate moral virtue nor to that of
the bad men who feel ashamed: Machiavelli is notorious for his critique of moral virtue in
light of human and political necessities. Yet necessity also dictates that moral virtue and
goodness, as indispensable to republican life, be generally regarded as beyond criticism.
The goodness of peoples is no less necessary than the badness of princes. This is why
Machiavelli‘s moral rhetoric is not merely a pose, a way to conceal the depth of his
heterodoxy, but the act of a philosopher-statesman ever attentive to the requirements of a
vivere libero. Philosophy, as Cato the Censor saw, is corrupting, for it is a form of idleness
(ozio) which draws citizens away from more active pursuits; yet, says Machiavelli, it is an
honest kind of idleness (onesto ozio).147 In the Discorsi, Machiavelli gives a demonstration
of the honesty of philosophy—of his philosophy—which even a Cato might be persuaded to
admit into his republic.
146
Cf. the traditional Christian conception of macula peccati, the stain of sin. Cf. Discorsi II. Proemio: in
modern times non è osservanza di religione, non di leggi, non di milizia, ma sono maculati [sc. i tempi] d’ogni
ragione bruttura. Machiavelli‘s use of the term mentioned may be said to contribute toward an interpretation
of Christianity secondo la virtù.
147
Istorie fiorentine V. 1.
178
4. The Princely Republic
Although this thesis focuses on the Discorsi, the primary source for Machiavelli‘s
republicanism, we have not hesitated to make use of the Principe whenever it appeared
illuminating. In so doing, we have assumed that the two books, in spite of some obvious
differences, are, at bottom, in harmony with one another. This harmony is accepted by some
scholars, but others believe that the differences between the two are irreconcilable—that
between writing the Principe and writing the Discorsi (the usual view being that the
Discorsi was written later), Machiavelli‘s thought fundamentally changed. The famous
question of the relation between the two books cannot be avoided here, since one‘s answer
to it will decisively affect one‘s understanding of the Discorsi, and hence of Machiavelli‘s
republicanism.
If one believes that the Discorsi reflects a fundamental change in
Machiavelli‘s thought, one will give much less weight to a certain ―princely‖ part of its
argument; one will tend to view that part as a mere residue which Machiavelli was not
rigorous enough to eliminate. If, on the other hand, one believes that the Discorsi does not
reflect such a change, one will regard that part of its argument as essential to it and to
Machiavelli‘s republicanism.
This thesis has argued that Machiavelli the republican
deserves reconsideration, but which republican Machiavelli? The one who has transcended
the allegedly narrow horizon of the Principe, or the one whose Principe and Discorsi move
within the same horizon? We shall try to defend the latter alternative.
We may summarize our position as follows. While republics and princes are in some
ways natural enemies, in other ways republics need princes. We saw in the last chapter that
republican liberty is possible only under certain conditions, conditions which must be
created and sustained by human prudence. The republican plant will not grow and thrive in
179
every kind of soil. That soil must be properly prepared, and noxious weeds removed, by a
capable gardener.
Such a gardener was Romulus, who, after eliminating his rivals,
established institutions that were, though not yet republican, more in conformity with a free
way of life than a tyrannical one. Such a one was the first Brutus, who overthrew the
monarchy and then executed his own sons when they conspired against the new republican
regime. Such were the tanti uomini prudenti, that long line of Roman statesmen who
created ogni dì . . . nuovi ordini in favor of a free way of life, and brought the republic back
to its beginning periodically by means of memorable executions.1 Those who know how to
found and maintain a republic, or how to create new orders, may usefully be described as
―princes.‖ Thus Machiavelli can speak of ―the princes of a republic‖ (i principi d’una
republica).2 It seems that if we want to understand republics, we have to understand
princes, too, which suggests that the Discorsi should not be read in isolation from the
Principe.
The problem of the Principe
There is, however, a problem with this interpretation: while the Discorsi points in
this way to the Principe, the Principe does not seem to reciprocate the compliment. That is,
while the Discorsi indicates that republicanism needs princes, the Prince does not seem to
indicate that princes need republicanism. Indeed, it seems that not only a political but a
1
2
Discorsi I. 9, 10 end, 16-18, 49, 55, III. 1, 3.
Discorsi I. 12. See also I. 58 (i principi sono superiori a’ popoli nello ordinare leggi, formare vite civili,
ordinare statuti e ordini nuovi), II. 2 (in which Machiavelli speaks of principi di republiche and later of the
fact that persons born in a republic can by their own virtue become principi) and I. 20 end (a well-ordered
republic will elect an infinite succession of principi virtuosissimi, comparable to the principi virtuosi of
principalities, such as Philip of Macedon and Alexander the Great). The Discorsi is dedicated to two friends of
Machiavelli whom he describes as worthy of being principi (Discorsi Dedicatory Letter). I owe these points to
Mansfield and Tarcov 1996, pp. xxii-xxvii, who emphasize the princely and even tyrannical elements in
Machiavelli‘s republicanism. Viroli, by contrast (1998, p. 215 n. 78), denies that Machiavelli‘s use of the term
principe in republican contexts has the significance that Mansfield and Tarcov suggest; according to him, the
term is perfectly harmless and refers merely to ―attaining the highest public honors.‖
180
moral chasm divides the two books. This is not because of the unscrupulousness of the
advice offered in the Principe, for as we noted in the previous chapter, there is no lack of
unscrupulous advice offered in the Discorsi. In both books we are given to understand that
the end justifies the means. But the end is not the same in each case. In the Discorsi, the
end seems to be liberty or the common good: Romulus‘ fratricide, for instance, is regarded
as excusable because he is said to have acted per il bene comune e non per ambizione
propria and with the aim of introducing ordini più conformi a uno vivere civile e libero che
a uno assoluto e tirannico.3 But in the Principe, the only end seems to be the security and
glory of the prince himself. The prince is advised to do what is necessary, not for the
common good, but for his own ambition: Facci dunque uno principe di vincere e mantenere
lo stato: e’ mezzi sempre fieno iudicati onorevoli e da ciascuno saranno laudati.4 Whereas
the Discorsi advises the citizen to put aside moral considerations when the welfare of his
fatherland is at stake, the Principe advises the prince to put aside moral considerations when
his own self-preservation is at stake.5 It even advises the prince how to hold conquered
republics, one of the best methods being to destroy them.6 Not without reason does Cassirer
take issue with those who ―tell us that the measures recommended by Machiavelli [in the
Principe], however objectionable in themselves, are only meant for the ‗common good‘.
The ruler has to respect this common good. But where do we find this mental reservation? .
. .The book describes, with complete indifference, the ways and means by which political
power is to be acquired and maintained. About the right use of this power it does not say a
word. It does not restrict this use to any consideration for the commonwealth.‖ In the
3
Discorsi I. 9.
4
Principe 18, where stato means, as frequently in Machiavelli, one‘s own state, one‘s own rule or domination.
5
Discorsi III. 41, Principe 15.
6
Principe 5.
181
Discorsi, on the other hand, ―Machiavelli speaks as a resolute republican. In the struggles
between the Roman aristocracy and the plebeians his sympathy is clearly on the side of the
people. He defends the people against the reproach of inconstancy and fickleness; he
declares that the guardianship of public freedom is safer in the hands of the commons than
in those of the patricians.‖ It is unclear how such vigorous republican sympathies are to be
reconciled with the Principe, in which ―the fascination of Cesare Borgia is so strong that it
seems completely to eclipse all republican ideals…. That a republican could make [Borgia]
his hero and model seems to be very strange: for what would have become of the Italian
Republics and all their free institutions under a ruler like Cesare Borgia?‖7 How indeed
could the author who in the Discorsi appears so keen to promote liberty and republicanism
have written another work (destined to be much more famous than the Discorsi), in which
he appears to promote princely, not to say tyrannical rule? How could the teacher of nondomination in the Discorsi be the same man who teaches domination in the Principe?
Machiavelli had for many years served as an important official of the Florentine republic:
how could he dedicate a book to a prince of the house of Medici, the destroyer of that
republic? For Cassirer, it is ―one of the great puzzles in the history of human civilization
how a man like Machiavelli, a great and noble mind, could become the advocate of
‗splendid wickedness‘.‖8
To increase our perplexity, although the princely doctrine of the Principe seems to
contradict flagrantly the republican doctrine of the Discorsi, chapter 2 of the Principe refers
7
Cassirer 2007, pp. 142, 145, 146. Similarly, Baron (1988, pp. 109, 116-17) remarks that while in the
Discorsi we find ―the undisguised values of a republican citizen,‖ ―[t]he author of the Prince does not favor
restrictions on a ruler in the name of liberty.‖ Regarding the significance of Machiavelli‘s praise of Borgia,
consider Chabod‘s description (1964, p. 63) of the latter as tante volte bestemmiato dai repubblicani fiorentini.
8
Cassirer 2007, p. 145. Even Spinoza (Tractatus Politicus V. 7) admits that it is not obvious why this wise
friend of liberty should wish to give lessons to tyrants.
182
to an unnamed work of Machiavelli on republics, seemingly the Discorsi, as to a work that
is complementary rather than contradictory.
Let us consider the three most common solutions to the riddle posed by the Principe.
Some interpreters excuse the Principe on grounds of practical necessity; others say that
Machiavelli‘s thought ―developed‖ between the writing of the Principe and the writing of
the Discorsi; and still others claim that the Principe is ironic and has a secret republican
intention. What these interpreters have in common is that they are all in some measure
apologists for Machiavelli. None is willing to condemn the Principe as a moral lapse—to
say that Machiavelli, blinded by the desire to ingratiate himself with the Medici,9 betrayed
republican principles.
Machiavelli‘s own fellow-citizens reportedly were less tolerant.
Although, as we have noted, he had for many years served the Florentine republic, when in
1527 the Medici were again driven out and the republic re-established, he was not returned
to office. The cause, according to a contemporary source, was that
l’universale per conto del Principe l’odiava: ai ricchi pareva che quel suo Principe
fosse stato un documento da insegnare al Duca [sc. Lorenzo de‘ Medici, to whom
the Principe was dedicated] tôr loro tutta la roba, a’ poveri tutta la libertà; ai
Piagnoni [sc. the followers of Savonarola] pareva che e’ fosse eretico, ai buoni
disonesto, ai tristi più tristo o più valente di loro: talché ognuno l’odiava.10
If this is what the Florentines thought about Machiavelli, they were not entirely mistaken.
Distrust of Machiavelli is less unreasonable than most modern scholars assume. He was, we
9
At the end of the dedicatory letter of the Principe, Machiavelli appears to ask Lorenzo de‘ Medici for
employment. (It is not known whether the book was ever actually presented to Lorenzo.) See also the letters
to Vettori of 13 March 1513 (Opere, p. 1128), 16 April 1513 (Opere, p. 1133) and 10 December 1513 (Opere,
p. 1160). Cardinal Giulio de‘ Medici was decisive in procuring for Machiavelli the commission to write the
Istorie fiorentine.
10
Letter of Giambattista Busini, quoted in Ridolfi 1969, p. 389. Although the Principe was not published till
after Machiavelli‘s death, Busini‘s statement, if accurate, implies that either manuscripts of it or reports about
it circulated during his lifetime. (The extent to which the Principe circulated in manuscript during
Machiavelli‘s lifetime is today a disputed question.)
183
are convinced, a sincere republican.
But there is something ambiguous about his
republicanism, an ambiguity reflected most obviously in his authorship of the Principe, but
also present in the Discorsi. This ambiguity needs to be taken seriously, not minimized or
explained away.
The first common solution to our riddle, as we have indicated, is to argue that the
Principe was not a betrayal of republicanism but a pragmatic response to the immediate
political situation. This is essentially the solution offered by Cassirer, according to whom
Machiavelli recognized that in his time the cause of republicanism was hopeless: ―In Italian
life of the fifteenth century Machiavelli saw nothing to encourage his republican ideals.‖
Consequently, although he ―was by no means especially fond of the principati nuovi, of the
modern tyrannies‖ and although ―Machiavelli personally would have abhorred most of the
measures he recommended,‖ he could see no practical alternative to these tyrannies.11
Along the same lines, one might argue that, after the fall of the Florentine republic in 1512,
Machiavelli saw a strong and ruthless prince as the only defense against foreign domination:
the Principe closes, after all, with an exhortation to liberate Italy from the barbarians.
―Machiavelli,‖ explains Macaulay, ―despairing of the liberty of Florence, was inclined to
support any government which might preserve her independence.‖12 The same hypothesis is
advanced by De Sanctis: quando vide perduta la libertà, [Machiavelli] pensò
all’indipendenza e cercò negli stessi Medici l’istrumento della salvezza.13 For Chabod,
whereas the Discorsi was written for all times and places, the Principe was born sotto
l’impulso di un fine pratico immediato, namely, that of assisting the Medici to build a strong
state that might put an end to the miseries and humiliations of Italy. In this light the
11
Cassirer 2007, p. 147-8.
12
Macaulay 1889, pp. 46-7.
13
De Sanctis 1950, p. 108.
184
Principe reveals itself as una delle più alte e commosse espressioni del sentimento nazionale
che la storia dello spirito italiano possa vantare.14 For Sasso, too, at the root of this book
lies la volontà di porre fine alla decadenza e alla corruzione, di trasformare le sorti della
‘misera’ Italia.15 Machiavelli in the Principe was not, then, a traitor to republicanism but a
pragmatist and a patriot. He did not expound there the kind of politics he thought best but
the kind he thought the times required.
On this interpretation, there need be no radical conflict of principle between the
Principe and the Discorsi. Chabod and Sasso even discern a connection between the two
that renders them complementary, a connection they seek to establish through an hypothesis
about the chronological order in which the two books were composed. According to this
hypothesis, Machiavelli wrote the first 18 chapters of the Discorsi, paused to write the
Principe—precisely in response to the immediate practical needs which those 18 chapters
had called to mind—and then returned to writing the Discorsi. This explains how he can
refer in Principe 2 to an unnamed work of his on republics, even though the Discorsi—the
obvious candidate for such a work—was, in the view of most scholars, composed later:
Principe 2 refers not to the Discorsi as a whole but to an initial fragment of it, in all
probability the first 18 chapters. Since, however, there is no documentary evidence to
support this hypothesis, Sasso has refined it as follows: even if the sequence described is not
chronologically correct, it is logically correct. Regardless of when Machiavelli put pen to
paper, the first 18 chapters of the Discorsi logically precede the Principe. Sasso prudently
recognizes that a thinker of Machiavelli‘s stature may well have been capable of thinking
14
15
Chabod 1964, pp. 211-12, 216.
Sasso 1993, p. 368. Contrast the view of Pocock (2003, p. 160) that the Principe ―would seem to be a
theoretical treatise, inspired by a specific situation but not directed at it.‖
185
through the essential argument of the Discorsi prior to composing a single page of that
work. The order of composition does not necessarily reflect the order of thought. 16
Sasso‘s argument hinges mainly on Discorsi I. 16-18, whose subject is corruption,
and especially on I. 18. In the latter chapter Machiavelli asks what can be done to maintain
a free state (i.e. government) in a corrupt city. He answers that one must reorder that city,
but that such reordering will be possible only if one first, through extraordinary and even
violent means, has made oneself ―prince.‖ Here Sasso sees a direct link to the Principe.
That work, he argues, is born as an attempt at solving the problem raised in Discorsi I. 18.17
But this means that republicanism remains primary even in the Principe: the prince is not an
end in himself but an instrument in the necessary reordering of a corrupt republic. Read in
isolation, the Principe may appear un-republican; read in conjunction with the Discorsi, it
reveals itself as a bridge to republicanism.
This argument is rejected by Hans Baron, whose position represents the second
common solution to the riddle of the Principe. Baron is not convinced that Discorsi I. 18
precedes the Principe even in a logical sense.18 The prince of Discorsi I. 18 is a ruthless yet
well-intentioned reformer of a republic. Such a mixture of qualities is, says Machiavelli,
exceedingly rare; hence reforming a corrupt republic is difficult or impossible. Yet this
problem seems to be altogether unknown to the author of the Principe, for whom the prince
16
Chabod 1964, pp. 31-39; Sasso 1993, pp. 349-56. The dating of the two works, especially of the Principe,
remains controversial. For example, whereas for Inglese (2006, pp. 45-52 and 93-95), reflecting the majority
view, the Principe was completed by 1514 and the Discorsi by 1518, for Martelli (1999, pp. 261-290, esp. p.
263), it is more probable that the Principe was completed in 1517 or 1518, and for Mansfield and Tarcov
(1996, pp. xlii-xliii) there is no reason why Machiavelli could not have made revisions to both works up until
his death in 1527. If Principe 2 does refer to the Discorsi as a whole (which is the most obvious
interpretation), then—since the Discorsi certainly refers to the Principe (cf., e.g., Discorsi III. 42)—
Machiavelli would be indicating that the two books presuppose each other and that the chronological question
is not important.
17
Sasso 1993, pp. 358-65. See also Sasso 1967, pp. 111-159.
18
For what follows, see Baron 1988, pp. 117-27.
186
is neither the reformer of a republic nor well-intentioned. The stated goal in Discorsi I. 18 is
il riordinare una città al vivere politico; the stated goal in the Principe is the security and
glory of the prince. In Discorsi I. 18, Machiavelli says a corrupt republic needs new ordini
to maintain liberty, but in the Principe the creators of new ordini include men like
Oliverotto da Fermo, who, as Baron observes, ―rose to power by murdering the leading
citizens after inviting them to a banquet.‖ Baron continues, quoting from Principe 8:
―‗When in this fashion all had died who could offend him, [he] strengthened his position
with nuovi ordini civili e militari‘, with the result that within a year he had secured his
regime.‖19 Nothing is said about the republic of Fermo being corrupt,20 nor about Oliverotto
wishing to restore a vivere politico. Machiavelli‘s only comment is that Oliverotto‘s new
ordini secured his own rule. It is true that he describes Oliverotto as having come to power
through sceleratezze, and as having met a bad end, so that one could suppose that he was
justly punished for his crimes against the republic. But according to Machiavelli, he would
not have met a bad end if he had not allowed himself to be deceived by Cesare Borgia, just
as Borgia himself would not have failed had he not permitted the wrong man to become
pope.21
It was the mistakes, not the crimes, of these men that caused their undoing.
(Although Machiavelli sometimes uses conventional moral terms like sceleratezza in the
Principe, it is necessary to wonder about his sincerity, since the emphasis always seems to
fall, in the end, on non-moral considerations.22) At any rate, as the example of Oliverotto da
Fermo indicates, in the Principe, by contrast to the Discorsi, the common good is not a
19
Baron 1988, p. 115.
20
Unless such corruption is to be inferred from the fact that Oliverotto was aided by certain citizens of Fermo
alli quali era piú cara la servitú che la libertà della loro patria.
21
22
Principe 8, 7.
By sometimes using traditional moral distinctions, Machiavelli renders his book more palatable to many
readers and acquires supporters that he would not otherwise possess.
187
theme. In light of this ―profound disparity‖ between the two works, Baron regards as
quixotic any attempt to harmonize them, and proposes instead that between writing the
Principe and writing the Discorsi, Machiavelli‘s thinking ―developed,‖ ―his horizon
expanded‖ and he became more sympathetic to republicanism: in plain terms, he changed
his mind.23
Yet if Machiavelli changed his mind after writing the Principe, it is odd that he
himself should seem to be wholly unaware of it. More than once in the Discorsi he
explicitly refers to the Principe, without giving the slightest hint that he regards that work as
immature or too narrow in its horizon.24 This ought to give Baron pause. It is true that a
writer may not be fully conscious of certain subtle changes in his opinions. But could a
writer of the stature of Machiavelli be oblivious to the fact that he has completely reversed
himself on a fundamental issue? For how else than as a fundamental reversal can one
describe the change from ignoring the common good and liberty, to making them the
explicit goals of political action?
It remains to consider the third solution, famously advanced by Rousseau: that the
Principe is an ironic book with a secret republican intention.25 Rousseau‘s statement occurs
in the context of the following argument. The interest of a prince is naturally opposed to
that of the people. Some say that the prince will want the people to flourish, since the
people‘s strength becomes his own and makes him more formidable to his enemies, but this
23
Baron 1988, pp. 109, 116 n. 21, 117, 144-7. Skinner (2002, pp. 70-71) seems to agree with Baron.
24
See Discorsi III. 42, where Machiavelli observes that princes often do not keep their promises: Il che se è
cosa laudabile o no, o se da uno principe si debbono osservare simili modi o no, largamente è disputato da noi
nel nostro trattato De Principe; però al presente lo tacereno. See also Discorsi II. 1: Sarebbeci da mostrare
a questo proposito il modo tenuto dal Popolo romano nello entrare nelle provincie d’altrui, se nel nostro
trattato de’ principati non ne avessimo parlato a lungo….
25
For what follows, see Rousseau, Du Contrat Social III. 6. (Cf. Spinoza, Tractatus Politicus V. 7.)
Rousseau‘s approach has occasionally been taken up by modern scholars; see Mattingly 1958 and Dietz 1986.
188
is not so. Since the prince‘s primary interest is to maintain his rule, he will want above all to
keep the people weak and miserable, and hence unable to resist him. If a people could
become powerful while remaining submissive, this would indeed be useful to the prince, but
the combination is impossible. There is, then, no harmony between the private interest of
the prince and the common good, and this is precisely what Machiavelli, between the lines,
has demonstrated in the Principe: En faignant de donner des leçons aux Rois, il en a donné
de grandes aux peuples. Le Prince de Machiavel est le livre des républicains. By showing
what a prince must do if he wishes to maintain his rule—namely, ignore justice, inspire fear,
practice cruelty, and so on—Machiavelli delivers, in fact, a powerful warning against
princely government. But why did he have to conceal this warning?
Machiavel était un honnête homme et un bon citoyen: mais attaché à la maison de
Médicis il était forcé dans l’oppression de son patrie de déguiser son amour pour la
liberté. Le choix seul de son exécrable Héros [presumably Cesare Borgia] manifeste
assez son intention secrète; et l’opposition des maximes de son Livre du Prince à
celles de ses discours sur Tite Live e de son histoire de Florence démontre que ce
profond politique n’a eu jusqu’ici che des lecteurs superficiels ou corrumpus.
Aided, then, by the assumption that the Discorsi and the Istorie fiorentine prove
Machiavelli‘s republican convictions, Rousseau concludes that the Principe must have an
intention secrète, explainable by the necessity of pleasing the Medici.26
This interpretation, which has the merit of reminding us of what in this liberal age
we may tend to forget, namely that Machiavelli could not always afford to state his views
26
Rousseau says in the passage quoted that Machiavelli was attached to the house of Medici; it would be more
precise to say that he desired to attached himself to that house (see above, p. 182 n. 9).
189
openly,27 is not without its difficulties. In the first place, Machiavelli composed all his
major works, not only the Principe, under the rule of the Medici. The Istorie fiorentine,
cited by Rousseau as evidence of Machiavelli‘s republicanism, was dedicated to a Medici
pope. Furthermore, while it is true that after one has perused the Discorsi and other
―republican‖ writings of Machiavelli, the Principe may seem anomalous and the suspicion
may arise that it is not what it appears to be, if one then makes a more careful study of the
Principe and the Discorsi, the sense of distance between the two works will diminish. One
will be struck by the fact that, as is conceded by Baron, the Discorsi extends ―the rules and
maxims of The Prince to the life of republics.‖28 In the Discorsi republics are advised to
proceed, especially in foreign affairs, by many of the same methods of force and fraud as
Machiavelli had recommended to princes (just as in the Principe Machiavelli recommends
to princes the foreign policy of the Roman republic29). ―Machiavelli,‖ as Hulliung remarks,
―was a power politician in both The Prince and the Discourses.‖30 For example, in the
Principe the prince is advised that although he must sometimes act contrary to religion, he
must take care always to appear religious; in the Discorsi the Roman republic is praised
because its leaders, even when compelled to act contrary to religion, did so without open
27
On this general issue, see Discorsi I. 10 (under the Roman empire, writers were not free to criticize Caesar
openly and therefore had to do so indirectly) and III. 2 (one must say the contrary of what one believes in order
to please the prince). Cf. letter to Guicciardini, 17 May 1521 (Opere, p. 1204): io non dico mai quello chi io
credo, né credo mai quel che io dico, et se pure e’ mi vien detto qualche volta il vero, io lo nascondo fra tante
bugie, che è difficile a ritrovarlo.
28
Baron 1998, p. 109, 145.
29
Principe 3; cf. Discorsi II. 1 which refers to this chapter. See Mansfield and Tarcov 1996, p. xxii and
Tarcov 2007, pp. 128.
30
Hulliung 1983, p. 235. Hulliung argues that ―[w]hile The Prince is hardly a republican work, it is
nonetheless true that Machiavelli counsels the prince in the Discourses that his greatest glory lies in
establishing or reestablishing a republican order….Thus The Prince and the Discourses are
complementary….‖ Ibid., p. 231. Hulliung fails to explain, however, why it is only in the Discorsi, and not in
the Principe, that Machiavelli counsels princes in this manner.
190
disrespect to religion.31 In the Principe, the prince is advised that he must sometimes break
his word for the sake of his security; in the Discorsi we are told that it is not shameful for a
republic to break its word when the public good requires it. 32 In the Principe, the prince is
emphatically urged to rely not on mercenaries but on his own troops; in the Discorsi the
same emphatic advice is given to republics.33
Not only does the Discorsi apply many princely maxims to republics, but it also
contains much advice for princes themselves. Apart from the fact that he dedicates the
Discorsi to two friends who, he says, deserve to be princes, Machiavelli opens the work by
calling upon modern men to imitate the virtuous deeds not only of ancient republics, but of
ancient kingdoms as well.34 This double intention is also evident from a glance at some of
the chapter titles. For instance, I. 21 is entitled: Quanto biasimo meriti quel principe e
quella republica che manca d’armi proprie.35 In a few cases chapter titles refer only to
princes, as for instance that of I. 26: Uno principe nuovo, in una città o provincia presa da
lui, debbe fare ogni cosa nuova.36 Other chapter titles, although they do not explicitly
mention either princes or republics, refer to a general issue which proves to be relevant to
both, as for instance that of II. 13: Che si viene di bassa a gran fortuna più con la fraude che
con la forza. In the course of this chapter, Machiavelli says explicitly that this maxim
applies equally to princes and republics. In II. 24, a striking passage occurs in which
Machiavelli addresses both princes and republics in the second person singular (and the
31
Principe 18; Discorsi I. 14.
32
Principe 18; Discorsi III. 42 (which refers to the discussion in Principe 18).
33
Principe 12; Discorsi I. 21 and II. 20 (which apparently refers to the Principe).
34
Discorsi Dedicatory Letter and I. Proemio.
35
See also the chapter titles of I. 10, 30, 32, 51; II. 27, 28, 30.
36
See also III. 4, 5.
191
advice he gives them is similar to that given in Principe 20): Machiavelli in the Discorsi is
on familiar terms with both princes and republics and is the advisor of both. This is not to
deny that republican themes predominate nor that the book makes explicit arguments for the
superiority of republics and peoples to principalities and princes (though it also makes
arguments for the superiority of princes to peoples in certain respects).
But by a
conservative estimate, at least one third of the 142 chapters of the Discorsi teach lessons that
apply to both republics and principalities, or to principalities alone. This is not quite what
one would have expected from a man who, at least by the time he wrote the Discorsi, is
supposed to have been a passionate republican.37
One might reply that Machiavelli‘s advice to princes in the Discorsi, just as in the
Principe, should be interpreted as a concession made to political circumstances: to write a
purely republican book under the rule of the Medici, even one that, like the Discorsi,
circulated only in manuscript during the author‘s lifetime, would have been dangerous. This
reply, however, does not account for the fact that in the Discorsi, Machiavelli commits an
un-republican act which he never commits in the Principe: he explicitly advises not only
princes, but tyrants.
(The word ―tyrant‖ does not appear in the Principe.)
Almost
incredibly, the same book that teaches how to preserve liberty and prevent tyranny also
teaches the opposite of these things. In Discorsi I. 16, for example, Machiavelli gives
advice to quelli principi che sono diventati della loro patria tiranni. He makes it clear that
he is speaking of cases in which the people has been deprived by the tyrant of its liberty, i.e.
he gives advice to a tyrant who has overthrown a republic. He does not specify that he is
speaking only of a corrupt republic, nor does he suggest that the tyrant ought to take power
37
―I find…that the image of Machiavelli as an inherently republican author, put forward by such authors as
Quentin Skinner and Maurizio Viroli, should be made more complex and nuanced, adding a fair appreciation
of the Prince, and a correct recollection of all the passages (and there are many!) of the Discourses where
Machiavelli explicitly addresses princes. This fact inclines me to think that he has always both regimes in his
mind, whose choice depends on circumstances.‖ Giorgini 2008, p. 251 n. 100.
192
only in order to restore a vivere politico. He assumes that the tyrant‘s sole aim is his own
security. In I. 40, Machiavelli announces in the very title of the chapter that he will consider
come si può o salvare…o oppressare una Republica. In the body of the chapter, which
takes up the case of the aspiring tyrant Appius Claudius, Machiavelli, with cool impartiality,
exposes lo errore del popolo romano, volendo salvare la libertà, e gli errori di Appio,
volendo occupare la tirannide. He gives no clear indication of whether he thinks it is better
to save liberty or to destroy it. He does not evaluate ends but only means. In I. 41, he
continues this analysis, pointing out what Appius did well and what he did poorly, which of
his unscrupulous tactics were ―well used‖ and which were not ―well used.‖ In III. 8, he
teaches that an aspiring tyrant must consider the condition of the republic in which he lives;
only if that republic is sufficiently corrupt will his design be successful. Here corruption
figures not as an evil to be overcome, but as an opportunity to be exploited. Manlius
Capitolinus, who failed to become tyrant in the early republic, might have succeeded if he
had lived later when Rome had become corrupt. In all these examples, Machiavelli seems
concerned with nothing but success: he seems perfectly ―Machiavellian.‖ One can see why
Cassirer concludes that Machiavelli was a sort of modern natural scientist, who ―studied
political actions in the same way as a chemist studies chemical reactions . . . . He gives his
political prescriptions. By whom these prescriptions will be used and whether they will be
used for a good or evil purpose is no concern of his.‖38
Baron would like to brush aside such passages, which he admits are ―in evident
conflict with the republican foundation‖ of the Discorsi, as mere ―digressions.‖39 In fact, of
the examples we have given, only the first, the passage from I. 16, seems to be a digression,
38
Cassirer 2007, p. 154. Cassirer is speaking of the Principe, but he might have been speaking of certain
passages of the Discorsi as well.
39
Baron 1988, p. 111.
193
and indeed Machiavelli himself characterizes it as such. But he says he is making this
digression so as not to have to return to the matter later on: the passage is presented as a
digression with respect to I. 16, but not with respect to the Discorsi as a whole. Besides,
even if all these passages and others like them were digressions, it would still be necessary
to explain why they occur at all, especially if they are ―in evident conflict‖ with the
fundamental principles of the work. One could suppose, taking a Rousseauan approach, that
in the examples mentioned Machiavelli intends merely to teach free peoples about the
methods of the tyrant, in order to put them on their guard. But if this is his purpose, why
does he not tell us? The teachings of the Principe, it is claimed, must be understood in light
of the Discorsi, which reveals Machiavelli‘s republicanism. How then shall the princely and
even tyrannical teachings of the Discorsi itself be understood?
In spite of these difficulties, it remains true that, as we have seen throughout this
thesis, the Discorsi evinces a deep sympathy for liberty and republicanism and makes many
powerful arguments in their favor. There can be hardly any doubt that Machiavelli is a
sincere republican. The question is why he seasons his republicanism with an occasional
tolerance (to use no stronger term) of princes and even tyrants.
Speaking to tyrants
As many scholars have noted, Machiavelli‘s republicanism is not absolute. He does
not believe that there exists a single legitimate solution to the political problem. He states as
clearly as possible that a republic can exist only under certain conditions, and the same
holds true for a principality: dove è equalità, non si può fare principato e, dove la non è, non
si può fare republica.40 He desires to bring comune benefizio a ciascuno:41 he wishes to be
40
Discorsi I. 55 (title).
41
Ibid. I. Proemio.
194
useful to everyone, not merely to those most favorably circumstanced. He does not limit
himself, therefore, to advising republics and republicans. He writes the Principe not merely
out of a desire to ingratiate himself with the Medici, or to teach peoples about the
wickedness of princes, but out of a belief that principalities are sometimes necessary, and
that in such cases, it is desirable that the prince be competent. It must be emphasized that
this principle is trans-historical and universal.
To say that the Principe was written
primarily for an immediate practical purpose is misleading, since for Machiavelli the need
for a prince is a permanent possibility, not merely a possibility in 16 th century Italy. In
reading the patriotic last chapter of the Principe, in which Machiavelli exhorts Lorenzo to
seize Italy and eject the barbarians, one should not forget the first words of the first chapter,
which treat not of Italy but of all states that have been and are.
Machiavelli undoubtedly regards a competent and ruthless prince as superior to a
well-meaning but weak republic,42 not only politically but morally. Era tenuto Cesare
Borgia crudele: nondimanco quella sua crudeltà aveva racconcia la Romagna, unitola,
ridottola in pace e in fede. Il che se si considera bene, si vedrà quello essere stato molto più
piatoso che il populo fiorentino, il quale, per fuggire il nome di crudele, lasciò distruggere
Pistoia.43 But if this is so, why not take the next logical step? Why not admit that even
tyranny (i.e. princely rule acquired illegally) may sometimes be superior to the available
alternatives? Would not Piero Soderini, the well-meaning but weak leader of the Florentine
republic, have done better by his country and by himself had he been willing to use extralegal, i.e., tyrannical authority in order to destroy the aristocratic party that favored the
42
Berlin 1980, p. 40.
43
Principe 17; cf. Discorsi I. 38.
195
Medici? His failure to do so, on Machiavelli‘s analysis, led to the overthrow of the republic
and Soderini‘s own exile.44
Since even the tyrant can on occasion be useful or necessary, one should not merely
condemn him; one should also instruct him. Such instruction should aim not at improving
his moral character, which from Machiavelli‘s point of view would be hopeless even if it
were desirable, but rather at enlightening him as to his own self-interest. Machiavelli
believes that, to a remarkable degree, the tyrant‘s enlightened self-interest will prove to be
in harmony with the interest of the people. No one can rule without the help of others.
Normally, a ruler must ally himself with one of two groups: the few or the many, the grandi
or the people. The grandi are inferior as allies of the tyrant because they are potential rivals
and because they are impossible to satisfy on account of their great ambition and avarice,
whereas the people are easy to satisfy because they want merely not to be oppressed. Give
the people what they desire—security—and they will be content. But give the grandi what
they desire—honors and riches—and you only whet their appetite. Moreover, if the grandi
are against you, you can eliminate them; but you cannot eliminate the people. And if you
want to rule through violence and force, you will be more successful if your violence is
supported by the stronger of the two groups, namely the people.
For there is strength in
numbers (at least, we may add, when properly organized), and the people are far more
numerous than the grandi. Thus, even if you come to power against the will of the people,
your first and most important task is to make the people your friend.45
But can a tyrant really win the friendship of a people that he himself has deprived of
its liberty? He can, according to Discorsi I. 16, as long as he understands clearly what it is
44
Discorsi III. 3.
45
Discorsi I. 16, 40; Principe 9, 19.
196
that the people want. The first thing they want is revenge, and here the tyrant can satisfy
them very easily by sacrificing the grandi. Machiavelli recounts that the ottimati46 (i.e. the
grandi) of Heraclea, locked in a struggle with the popular party, conspired with Clearchus to
make him tyrant and take away the people‘s liberty. After which,
trovandosi Clearco intra la insolenzia degli ottimati, i quali non poteva in alcuno
modo né contentare né correggere, e la rabbia de’ popolari che non potevano
sopportare lo avere perduta la libertà, diliberò a un tratto liberarsi dal fastidio de’
grandi e guadagnarsi il popolo. E presa sopr’a questo conveniente occasione, tagliò
a pezzi tutti gli ottimati con una estrema sodisfazione de’ popolari.
In this example a ruthless tyrant is represented as having served the popular cause—not
indeed out of love of the people, but out of an intelligent concern for his own security.
But the people want more than revenge, they also want their liberty back. The tyrant
cannot satisfy this desire fully without relinquishing his power. But if he considers why the
people want liberty, he will find that he can satisfy them in large part. For troverrà che una
piccola parte di loro desidera di essere libera per comandare; ma tutti gli altri, che sono
infiniti, desiderano la libertà per vivere sicuri. For the vast majority, the desire for liberty is
primarily a desire for security rather than self-government. As to the few who desire to
command, it is easy to deal with them, for they are few. As to the many who want only to
live secure, si sodisfanno facilmente faccendo ordini e leggi dove insieme con la potenza sua
si comprenda la sicurtà universale. E quando uno principe faccia questo, e che il popolo
vegga che per accidente nessuno ei non rompa tali leggi, comincerà in breve tempo a vivere
sicuro e contento. It is by providing security under law that the tyrant can make the people
his friend and thus provide for his own security. In esemplo ci è il regno di Francia, il quale
non vive sicuro per altro che per essersi quelli re obligati a infinite leggi, nelle quali si
46
Machiavelli‘s use here of the term ottimati is ironic: the ―best ones‖ are not so good. Cf. above, pp. 62-3.
197
comprende la sicurtà di tutti i suoi popoli. The lawful and law-abiding king of France turns
out to be an instructive example for tyrants. There is, in the end, no radical difference
between the tyrant and the king, since it is in the interest of both to provide for security
under law. The fact that the tyrant came to power by overthrowing a lawful government is
irrelevant as long as he knows how to provide security thereafter.47
Evidently, Machiavelli would disagree with Rousseau‘s contention that the interest
of the prince and that of the people are incompatible. For Machiavelli, an alliance of the
prince and the people is entirely plausible in light of their common fear of the grandi.48
(The problem of the grandi does not figure in Rousseau‘s argument.) Machiavelli would no
doubt admit that many princes do in fact ally themselves with the grandi to oppress the
people, but he would say that such princes are not prudent, and that they ought to read the
Principe and the Discorsi.
The passage from Discorsi I. 16 that we have discussed provides an important clue to
the enigma of the Principe. In this passage, Machiavelli interrupts a work devoted mostly to
republics in order to address a tyrant. How does he address him? He does not preach to him
about justice, humanity, the common good.
Such preaching would fall on deaf ears.
Instead, he adopts the tyrant‘s point of view. The tyrant wants to maintain his rule. Very
well, says Machiavelli, I can show you which means are best adapted to your end.
Similarly, in the Principe, Machiavelli wastes no time in edifying sermons. Indeed, he
openly attacks morality as harmful: colui che lascia quello che si fa, per quello che si
47
Cf. Discorsi III. 5. By its title, this chapter ought to concern a hereditary king, but in fact it concerns a
usurper, Tarquinius Superbus. The suggestion that Tarquinius Superbus is a hereditary king is, we take it, a
Machiavellian joke, as well as a serious statement about the way in which heirs and usurpers are the same.
48
There are exceptions to this rule. For instance, as we saw in chapter 3 above, some Roman emperors had no
choice but to oppress the people in order to satisfy the army, which was then the most powerful entity
(Principe 19).
198
doverrebbe fare, impara piú presto la ruina che la preservazione sua.49 He is careful to
show no special tenderness for republics, even going so far as to note that one of the best
ways to hold a conquered republic is to destroy it.50 His professed immorality or amorality
and his apparent indifference to the common good and liberty51 serve a rhetorical purpose:
they give him credibility with the prince.
He shows that he can be as worldly and
unsentimental as the prince himself, if not more so. Thus when he advises the prince to ally
himself with the people, he will not be dismissed as naïve or suspected of republican
sympathies, but will be taken seriously. When he advises the prince to abstain from the
property and women of his subjects, his advice will carry weight because it occurs in the
context of a hard-headed argument that the prince should care more about being feared than
being loved.52 It so happens that if the prince acts on Machiavelli‘s advice, he will, without
intending to do so, bring about something approximating the common good. Without being
a just man, he will bring about something like justice. He will be led, as if by an invisible
hand, to benefit others through his desire to benefit himself. If the Principe has a secret
intention, it would seem to consists in this, that precisely by appearing to ignore justice and
the common good, Machiavelli promotes justice and the common good.
Whereas in the Principe Machiavelli uses this rhetorical mode throughout, in the
Discorsi he uses it only sometimes. Furthermore, in the Principe he is more strict or careful
than in comparable passages of the Discorsi.
For instance, in the Principe, which is
addressed to an actual prince, Lorenzo de‘ Medici, he never uses the word ―tyrant‖ which
49
Principe 15.
50
Ibid. 5.
51
But see Tarcov 2007 on the subtle undercurrent of republicanism in the Principe. See also Sasso 1993, p.
382.
52
Principe 17.
199
―is too harsh a word to use in the hearing of the prince.‖53 But in both works we discern his
attempt to improve political outcomes by adapting his argument to the desires of even the
most dangerous political actors. Implicit in this attempt is a view of the relation between
philosophic reason and politics: philosophic reason is weak, but by offering itself, in
rhetorical guise, as the servant of politics, it can become strong and perhaps, in the end, even
usurp the authority of its master.54
Let us now return to the passage in Discorsi I. 18 on which Sasso bases his
argument. There, speaking of how to save a thoroughly corrupt republic, Machiavelli
declares that it is necessary to have recourse to extraordinary remedies such as violence and
arms, e diventare innanzi a ogni cosa principe di quella città e poterne disporre a suo modo.
At first glance, this extreme and violent solution may remind us of the world of the
Principe.
Yet no sooner does Machiavelli propose this solution than he doubts its
feasibility, for a good man will hardly ever be willing to become prince through bad means,
even for the sake of a good end, and a bad man will hardly ever use well the authority he has
wrongly acquired. For Baron, as we have seen, the fact that Machiavelli poses this dilemma
means that the link to the Principe is a false one. For in the Principe, this dilemma does not
exist. There is no requirement that the prince‘s end should be a good one; his end is his own
security. In Discorsi I. 18, the stated goal is il riordinare una città al vivere politico, but
this is never the stated goal in the Principe; there, the prince is never presented as the savior
of a corrupt republic. Baron is right to draw this distinction. But if our interpretation of the
Principe is correct, then Sasso is also right to hold that the Principe indicates the solution to
53
54
Strauss 1958, p. 26.
Compare the Dedicatory Letter of the Principe, in which Machiavelli, the humble servant of Lorenzo, offers
him his political knowledge (implying that Lorenzo does not yet possess such knowledge), with chapter 23 of
that work, in which Machiavelli reveals that a wise advisor, if given the opportunity, will take away the state of
an unwise prince.
200
the problem of Discorsi I. 18.
For even though, in the Principe, Machiavelli never
explicitly advises the new prince to establish or re-establish a vivere politico, he implicitly
advises him to take an essential first step in that direction, namely to provide for security
under the rule of law. One of the models for a new prince is Cesare Borgia. When Borgia
wished to consolidate his authority over the newly-conquered Romagna, a province which
through past misgovernment was full of robbery and violence, he began by appointing a
deputy with plenary power. This deputy, Rimirro de Orco, uomo crudele ed espedito,
promptly restored order, but since his harsh methods were such as to generate hatred, Borgia
replaced him with a civil tribunal (uno iudizio civile); then, to purge the people‘s hatred, he
had Rimirro executed in spectacular fashion.
The rule of law, prepared by absolute
authority, proves to be in the prince‘s own best interest; it is an instrument by which he can
maintain order and his own authority without incurring hatred.55 The example of Borgia
shows that, contrary to the apparent message of Discorsi I. 18, there is no great difficulty in
conceiving how a bad man may act for a good end: to act for a good end it is not necessary
to be good, but only to be intelligent. It is reasonable to suspect that the dilemma of
Discorsi I. 18 is only a provisional statement of Machiavelli‘s view, especially since, after
suggesting that the dilemma may be insoluble, he almost immediately contradicts himself by
reminding the reader of Romulus and Cleomenes, two princes who acquired authority
through bad actions but then used that authority well. His provisional statement reflects the
view of conventional morality: good men do not do bad deeds, and bad men do not do good
ones. Both the Discorsi and the Principe, however, tend to dissolve the conventional
distinction between the good man and the bad man, and even between good deeds and bad
55
Principe 7. Similarly, Machiavelli says in Principe 19 that the supreme judicial authority of the French
kingdom serves the purpose of beating down the grandi, relieving the king of the need to do so personally, and
so shielding him from the grandi‘s resentment. Borgia‘s execution of Rimirro shows that the law may still
need to be supplemented from time to time by extraordinary measures.
201
deeds. In Discorsi I. 27, for example, we learn that the very bad Giovampagolo Baglioni
was not quite bad enough: he missed his opportunity to do a truly great and generous bad
deed, one so great that it would have transcended its own infamy and won him eternal glory.
But is not a bad deed which one can be blamed for not committing, a good deed?
If all this is so, we are still left with the task of explaining the bitter denunciation of
Julius Caesar in Discorsi I. 10. From the perspective of I. 18, Caesar would appear to be the
very remedy that Rome in its corruption needed: an intelligent, competent and not overly
scrupulous man. Yet in I. 10, Caesar is spoken of as a ―detestable‖ ruler who destroyed the
republic and set the stage for all of the evils of the empire. A careful reading of this chapter,
however, discloses a less negative view of Caesar. Machiavelli‘s case against Caesar
amounts to this: he recounts the evils that occurred during the empire—tante guerre civili,
tante esterne, l’Italia afflitta e piena di nuovi infortunii, etc.—and he suggests that Caesar
(by bringing the republic to an end) is to blame for them. Yet Machiavelli well knows that
evils of this kind also occurred during the late republic, prior to Caesar, and that it was
Caesar‘s heir, Octavian, who established lasting peace.56
Further, while Machiavelli
mentions the evils that were endured under the bad emperors, he also mentions the blessings
that were enjoyed under the good ones—un principe sicuro in mezzo de’ suoi sicuri
cittadini, ripieno di pace e di giustizia il mondo, etc.—adding the remarkable comment that
these were i tempi aurei dove ciascuno può tenere e difendere quella opinione che vuole.
The empire at its best was a blessing both for ordinary citizens and for those who wished to
engage in free discussion or to philosophize.57 This balanced view of the empire points to a
more balanced view of Caesar: if he deserves blame for the evils of the empire, surely he
56
57
Cf. the reference in Discorsi I. 1 to quella lunga pace che sotto Ottaviano nacque nel mondo.
For Machiavelli‘s kinship with this second class of persons, cf. his declaration in Discorsi I. 58 that io non
giudico né giudicherò mai essere difetto difendere alcuna opinione con le ragioni, sanza volervi usare o
l’autorità o la forza.
202
deserves credit for its blessings.
The condemnation of Caesar looks like a rhetorical
exaggeration, implicitly revised by the immediate context and by I. 18.
Why the rhetoric? The reason is obvious: in almost all cases, a strong prejudice
against Caesar and Caesarism is right and proper for a republic. It is only in the extreme
case that an argument for Caesar can be made.
It is very important for a political
philosopher to consider the extreme case, but as a good republican, Machiavelli is obliged
also to respect the requirements of the normal case. The same reason may be given for his
statement of a conventional moral view in I. 18: a good citizen is obliged to be suspicious of
the possibility of preserving liberty through the violent seizure of absolute authority. Apart
from this, Machiavelli‘s rhetoric and his apparent hesitations and contradictions seem
intended to puzzle the reader and force him to think, to lead him to Machiavelli‘s own view
not all at once but per i debiti mezzi (cf. I. 41): they are a mode of education.
From principality to republic
A principality that provides security through the rule of law has much to be said for
it, but it remains a principality rather than a republic, i.e. it remains an essentially inferior
regime. There are two primary reasons for this inferiority. The first is succession: if
succession is hereditary, a virtuous prince is rarely succeeded by another of the same
quality. Well-ordered republics, on the other hand, through the use of elections, enjoy a
long succession of virtuous ―princes.‖58 An elective principality addresses this problem but
is still defective for another reason: the same man is not suited to all circumstances, to every
sort of ―times.‖ Different times require men of different dispositions or humors. Fabius
Maximus (the Delayer) was by nature cautious, and hence was suited to the war against
Hannibal in its early phase, when caution was needed. Scipio, on the other hand, was suited
58
Discorsi I. 11 near the end; I. 20.
203
to that war in its later phase, when boldness was needed. Because Rome was a republic, it
could make use of each man as the times required; had Fabius been king, Rome might easily
have lost that war. Thus a republic enjoys longer life and more good fortune than a
principality, perché la può meglio accomodarsi alla diversità de’ temporali, per la diversità
de’ cittadini che sono in quella.59 ―Diversity‖ is for Machiavelli, as it is for us today, a
primary feature of republican life.
But for him, the most politically valuable kind of
diversity is diversity of dispositions or humors. This is not the first time that we have
encountered this suggestion in the Discorsi: we have seen that liberty itself arises from a
diversity, or more precisely a conflict, of humors (namely those of the grandi and the
people).60
Despite the evident superiority of republics, a prince, however enlightened, cannot
be counted upon to establish one. Romulus prepared the ground for a vivere libero by
creating a senate, but still established a monarchy rather than a republic.61
It is not
reasonable to expect that a prince would ever voluntarily relinquish authority for himself
and his children, or, even if he should do so, that his children would accept his decision. A
prince may be indispensable for reordering a corrupt city, for crushing the insolence of the
grandi, for establishing the rule of law. But once these tasks have been accomplished, he is
no longer necessary to the same degree and even becomes an obstacle to further progress. If
one wishes to establish a republic, the prince and his heirs will have to be removed, and in
most cases they will have to be removed by force. This helps explain why by far the longest
chapter of the Discorsi (III. 6) is the one devoted to conspiracies, and chiefly to conspiracies
59
Ibid. III. 9. To give a modern example, Great Britain (a de facto republic) could easily replace Neville
Chamberlain with Winston Churchill when necessary, whereas Germany could not replace Hitler, or could
hope to do so only through a conspiracy (see below).
60
See chapter 1 above.
61
Discorsi I. 2 near the end, 9.
204
against princes. As we have noted previously, although Machiavelli begins this chapter by
claiming that he wishes to discourage men from engaging in conspiracies, for they are too
dangerous, the chapter proves to be a very useful ―how-to‖ manual, and Machiavelli
eventually says that if one follows his advice one will not fail, i.e. that conspiracies may be
dangerous but that the dangers can be overcome.62
Princes in a republic
This is not to say that if and when the prince is replaced by a well-ordered republic,
the need for princes or princely qualities simply vanishes. Machiavelli‘s frequent use of the
term principi to describe the leaders of a republic is very suggestive, although at first sight it
is somewhat jarring: the prince is characterized by selfish ambition, by the passion to rule
or dominate, and it could seem that this passion has no legitimate place in a republic. But
Machiavelli, since he prefers to take men as they are rather than imagine them as they ought
to be, is not in the habit of regarding any passion as illegitimate or perverse. 63 Rather, he
accepts the passions as natural facts, and asks about their possible utility. 64 As to the
passion to rule or dominate, Machiavelli probably regards it as a necessary condition of
political virtue.65 By his use of the term principi in a republican context, he suggests that
there is no essential difference of character between the princes of a republic and the princes
of a principality; it is only the constitutional orders that differ. This is clear from the
following passage:
62
Cf. above, p. 132 n. 39.
63
In Discorsi III. 8, Machiavelli speaks of Manlius Capitolinus‘ brutta cupidità di regnare, but this concession
to conventional moral taste is only temporary, as the rest of the chapter shows: Manlius‘ defect was not his
passion to rule but his imprudence in yielding to that passion when circumstances were not favorable to
success. See Spinoza, Tractatus Politicus 1 for a clear and explicit statement of what we take to be
Machiavelli‘s implicit position.
64
Cf. McCormick 2011, p. 46.
65
See above, pp. 74-5.
205
si vede come due continove successioni di principi virtuosi sono sufficienti ad
acquistare il mondo: come furano Filippo di Macedonia e Alessandro Magno. Il che
tanto più debba fare una republica, avendo per il modo dello eleggere non
solamente due successioni ma infiniti principi virtuosissimi che sono l’uno dell’altro
successori: la quale virtuosa successione fia sempre in ogni republica bene
ordinata.66
A principality, if it is lucky, may have two virtuous princes in succession; a well-ordered
republic does not need luck since it chooses its princes by election rather than depending on
the vagaries of inheritance. But the human type is the same, which explains why the Roman
republic, like Philip and Alexander, could ―acquire the world.‖
The question, then, is how a republic can benefit from the virtue of a prince without
falling victim to his ambition. One of the most important ways of doing so is to have many
princes at the same time. The rise of a single individual, however deserving, to solitary
heights of glory can never be tolerated in an incorrupt republic. (A corrupt one may have no
choice but to tolerate it.) Ingratitude, i.e. punishing instead of rewarding such an individual,
may be the necessary remedy. Thus the Roman people ought to be excused for its
ingratitude to Scipio after he had defeated Hannibal, for Scipio had acquired so great a
reputation that even the magistrates feared him—a condition incompatible with liberty,
regardless of the purity of Scipio‘s intentions. The reason the Roman people was not often
ungrateful is that it did not often need to be: as a rule, Rome had so many men of
outstanding virtue that they held each other in check.67 Just as James Madison famously
argues in Federalist 10 that the way to limit the evil of faction in a republic is to have many
factions, so Machiavelli argues that the way for a republic to avoid being ungrateful is to
have many virtuous men, and to find security in their rivalry and mutual jealousy. Rome
66
Discorsi I. 20.
67
Discorsi I. 30 (sendo assai e guardando l’uno l’altro).
206
achieved this end by employing all of its citizens, nobles and plebs alike, in the most
glorious enterprises, particularly in those of war: it opened careers to talent.68 While the
immediate motive for this policy was to appease the plebs, who demanded rewards
proportionate to its sacrifices,69 a consequence of it was that no one individual, as long as
the republic remained incorrupt, could dominate. One reason why meritocracy is desirable
is that it can be used to promote an equilibrium of political forces.
Equilibrium, however, may also be a recipe for paralysis,70 or at any rate for an
incapacity to act quickly. Republics are good at dispersing power among various offices
and institutions, and at careful debate and deliberation. They are less good at handling grave
emergencies which require a concentration of power and which do not allow time for
parliamentary niceties. As Machiavelli puts it:
gli ordini consueti nelle republiche hanno il moto tardo, non potendo alcuno
consiglio né alcuno magistrato per se stesso operare ogni cosa, ma avendo in molte
cose bisogno l’uno dell’altro; e, perché nel raccozzare insieme questi voleri va
tempo, sono i rimedi loro pericolosissimi quando egli hanno a rimediare a una cosa
che non aspetti tempo.71
In this crucial respect—that of speed or decisiveness—republics seem to be inferior to
principalities. Is this defect a fatal one?
It need not be fatal, since republics can, in Harvey Mansfield‘s expression,
―incorporate the principality.‖72
They can borrow elements of princely rule without
68
Ibid.
69
Ibid. I. 60.
70
A conflict between the two consuls once brought Rome‘s government to a standstill (ibid. I. 50).
71
Ibid. I. 34.
72
Mansfield 1989, p. 139.
207
compromising, or at any rate without abandoning, republican principles. This task may be
thought to be accomplished through the mixed constitution, in which a princely element
stands alongside oligarchic and popular ones; in Rome the princely element was represented
by the consuls. But Machiavelli, after paying a decent respect to this traditional notion in
Discorsi I. 2, ignores it for the rest of the work. As to the authority of the consuls, it was not
always great enough to deal with urgent matters. Their authority could sometimes be
thwarted by the authority of the tribunes, and their decisions, like those of other magistrates,
were subject to appeal to the people, to say nothing of the limitation inherent in the fact that
there were always two consuls rather than one.73 The most princely element in the Roman
constitution was, in reality, not the consulship but the dictatorship, which Machiavelli calls
―a regal power‖ (regia potestà). The dictator could decide absolutely by himself, without
consulting any other magistrate or any council; and his decisions, including his
punishments, were not subject to challenge and appeal. In a single individual was thus
united the whole of what today are called the executive and judicial powers—indeed
somewhat more than this, for the dictator was charged not merely with executing the laws
and punishing delinquents but with doing whatever was necessary to save the republic. Like
an absolute prince he could decide quickly and he could exact complete obedience to his
decisions. Yet his authority, while in some ways absolute, was in other ways limited. He
was not authorized to act in regard to every matter, but only in regard to the particular
emergency for which he had been elected. He could punish individuals and even remove
them from high office, but he could not destroy or modify the fundamental orders of the
republic, such as the consulship, the senate and the tribunes; and he could not make laws.
The tribunes, consuls and senators, who retained their normal authority, or most of it, served
as informal guardians of the dictator‘s good behavior. Of decisive importance, too, was the
73
Livy II. 8, III. 11 beg.; Discorsi I. 50 and III. 15.
208
fact that he was elected not indefinitely but for a short period (a maximum of six months74),
and the sooner he accomplished his mission and resigned his office, the more glory he
obtained. The dictatorship, we may say, provided the advantages of absolute principality
without its disadvantages.75
Lacking the option of a dictator, or more generally, lacking some legal provision for
extraordinary or extra-legal action, a republic faced with a grave emergency will find itself
in the following dilemma: either it must follow its ordinary, slow procedures and be ruined,
or it must violate those procedures and create a dangerous precedent. For once citizens
grow accustomed to violating the laws for a good end, they will eventually violate them for
a bad end. The difficulty originates in the essential deficiency of law itself. Law governs
the normal case, but what is beneficial in the normal case may be harmful in the exceptional
one. Better that the law should admit this deficiency in advance and provide a remedy for it,
with the proper safeguards, rather than have that remedy forced upon it by circumstances,
without safeguards. By doing the former, the law ensures that it will retain its supremacy
even while temporarily yielding it. Otherwise stated, by respecting the requirements of the
exceptional case, the law succeeds somehow in bringing that case under its jurisdiction. This
seems to be the meaning, for Machiavelli, of the Roman dictatorship: it was a normal way of
handling the exception.76
It is fitting that the chapters on the dictatorship and related matters (I. 33-45) should
follow the chapters on gratitude (I. 28-32). In the chapters on gratitude, we learn that
74
See ―dictator‖ in the Oxford Classical Dictionary, 2003 ed.
75
Discorsi I. 30 end, 31 end (and Livy VIII. 30-35), 34, 35. Cf. Garibaldi‘s description of himself in the
preface to his memoirs as [r]epubblicano, ma sempre più convinto della necessità d’una dittatura onesta e
temporania to cure the ills of Italy (Garibaldi 2008, p. 41).
76
Discorsi I. 34. We cannot take up here the question of the relation between the approach of Machiavelli to
the exceptional case and that of Carl Schmitt. For a study of the relation between Machiavelli‘s solution and
the institution of the modern executive, see Mansfield 1989.
209
gratitude is not always a virtue, nor ingratitude always a vice: gratitude to its great men can
lead a republic into servitude, while ingratitude to them can keep it free. The Roman
dictatorship may be viewed as an application of this principle. The dictator was asked to
save the republic from some grave danger—and when he had done so, his reward was that
he had immediately to resign his office! It is true that he received glory, but for an
ambitious man, glory without office (i.e. without the means of winning more glory) does not
satisfy. Since, however, this was all that the law, sustained by the jealousy of his peers,
would allow him, he had to pretend to be content.77
The dictatorship was an
institutionalized form of ingratitude.
Machiavelli‘s praise of the dictatorship may appear excessive: it may appear that the
dictator‘s authority, even with the limitations mentioned, was too absolute, and chiefly for
this reason, that those who decide important matters absolutely by themselves, without
consulting others, rarely decide well. One man alone is not wise; only free and open debate
among persons of differing opinions can be lead to wisdom. The truth is not a solitary but a
shared discovery; the errors and the partiality of each person‘s view must be corrected and
supplemented by the views of others. Machiavelli, it may be thought, places too much
reliance on what one person alone can know—both here, and elsewhere in the Discorsi. For
example, he asserts that the founding of a republic, or the radical reformation of it, cannot be
performed well except by ―one alone‖ (uno solo): Romulus would not have been able to
found Rome had he not first eliminated Remus. Because of the envious nature of men, he
who wishes to introduce new modes and orders will never succeed unless he possesses sole
authority.78 Machiavelli seems to forget that ―one alone‖ will never possess knowledge
77
This method worked only as long as Rome remained incorrupt; in its corruption, when for various reasons
the checks upon its great men had grown weaker, Caesar was able to seize for himself quello che la
ingratitudine gli negava (Discorsi I. 29).
78
Discorsi I. 9, I. Proemio beg., III. 30.
210
sufficient to found or reform a republic. Too impatient for results, or too enamored of
extraordinary and violent solutions,79
Machiavelli appears to have overestimated the
usefulness of absolute authority.
But this objection misses the mark. When Machiavelli says that the Roman dictator
could decide absolutely by himself, without consulting anyone, he means that he could
decide without needing anyone else‘s consent. He does not mean that he decided without
seeking others‘ advice, or without hearing a debate among various opinions. A prince, it is
said in Principe 23, should decide by himself, but only after soliciting the frank opinions of
his advisors. As for republics, it is said in Discorsi I. 18 that it is preferable that decisions
on matters concerning the public good be taken only after everyone‘s opinion has been
heard. The Roman dictator, facing an emergency, could hardly have had time to listen to
everyone, but if he was prudent, he surely listened to as many intelligent persons as time
permitted. Machiavelli is by no means unaware of the weakness of the individual mind and
hence of the importance of debate and discussion in the discovery of the truth.80 A republic
should be constructed in such a way that, as a rule, every citizen who desires to be heard,
can be heard, and that decisions are made through due process of law. But it should also be
constructed in such a way that, when necessity presses, decisions can be made quickly. In
the extreme case (e.g., in the heat of battle81), an important decision may have to be made
79
Guicciardini on Discorsi I. 26 (Guicciardini 2000, p. 365).
80
Cf., from Fabrizio‘s first speech in Arte della guerra I (Opere, p. 303), his explanation of the utility of
dialogue: molte volte uno savio domandatore fa a uno considerare molte cose e conoscerne molte altre, le
quali, sanza essere domandato, non arebbe mai conosciute. See also Machiavelli‘s letter to Vettori of 10
December 1513 (Opere, p. 1160) on his own dialogue with the ancients.
81
Cf. Fabrizio‘s statement in Arte della guerra I (Opere, p. 307): i regni che hanno buoni ordini, non danno lo
imperio assoluto agli loro re se non nelli eserciti; perché in questo luogo solo è necessaria una subita
diliberazione e, per questo, che vi sia una unica podestà.
211
without any discussion at all; but even then one may decide prudently, based on prior
discussions of similar circumstances.82
It is not only in emergencies that extraordinary authority may be required. As we
have noted, Machiavelli claims that founding or radical reform can be accomplished only by
―one alone.‖ A prudent founder, who aims at the common good, must contrive to obtain
sole authority, and never will a wise observer blame him for any extraordinary action he is
compelled to take for this purpose.83 This is not to say that sole authority must always be
seized, as it was by Romulus; it may be granted. The latter possibility is illustrated by the
case of the decemvirate, which Machiavelli discusses in Discorsi I. 40. On a certain
occasion the Romans decided to elect, for one year, a decemvirate, i.e. a committee of ten
men, for the purpose of framing a new code of law for Rome. So that the Ten could do their
work sanza alcun rispetto (i.e. without fear of the envious),84 they were given sole authority
in the republic, becoming a kind of super-dictatorship. The Ten wrote the new laws by
themselves, but before these laws were enacted they were laid before the public, acciocché
ciascuno le potesse leggere e disputarle; acciocché si conoscesse se vi era alcun difetto, per
poterle inanzi alla confermazione loro emendare. Once amended, and approved by the
people, these laws remained the foundation of Roman jurisprudence for centuries.85
82
Cf., in Principe 14, the example of the leader Philopemen, who, since he constantly reasoned with his
friends about hypothetical cases, never encountered an unforeseen event or ―accident‖ (accidente) for which he
did not have a remedy. (The example is drawn from Livy [XXXV. 28], who adds that when Philopemen was
alone, he reasoned in the same way with himself. One should not underestimate the knowledge that the human
mind can acquire even in solitude, when appropriately supplemented and tested by dialogue with others.)
83
Discorsi I. 9.
84
Cf. Machiavelli‘s own determination to act sanza alcuno rispetto in introducing his own new modes and
orders, in spite of the opposition of the envious (Discorsi I. Proemio beg.).
85
Livy III. 34.
212
Since the decemvirate possessed sole authority, we may say that it was, considered
as a group, ―one alone.‖ This is particularly the case since its members, though formally
equal among themselves, were in fact dominated by one of their number, Appius Claudius.
On our reading, Machiavelli admires the achievement of the decemvirate and has no
objection to the dominating role exercised by Appius.86 He approves in particular of the
method whereby fundamental laws are written by one or a few sanza alcun rispetto, and
then made available for public comment and amendment.87 The error of the Roman republic
lay not in granting the decemvirate sole authority over its special task, but in granting it sole
authority over all matters. The republic also committed a second error, no less grave, by
extending the authority of the decemvirate for a second year. In the absence of the kinds of
controls which kept even a dictator on the straight and narrow, Appius in his second year in
office succeeded in corrupting his colleagues and in establishing a tyranny—one that was
short-lived but that would have lasted longer had Appius not committed errors of his own.
As to the errors of Appius, Machiavelli is at pains to explain and correct them, no
less than those of the republic Appius aimed to overthrow. Discorsi I. 40 is explicitly
intended to advise both coloro che vogliono mantenere una republica libera and quelli che
disegnassono sottometterla. This is perplexing: how can a good man wish to advise both
86
87
Appius‘ astuteness in acquiring authority is praised in Discorsi I. 41.
The United States Constitution was written by a committee which could do its work sanza alcun rispetto
insofar as it met in secret session; afterwards, the Constitution was publicly debated and eventually amended.
This committee, one may add, had been authorized by Congress only to revise the Articles of Confederation,
not to write a wholly new constitution. — In stressing the fact that the laws written by the decemvirate were
presented to the public for comment and amendment prior to being enacted, Machiavelli probably implies a
contrast with other laws which, because of their higher source, are supposed to be exempt from such critical
scrutiny. (For revealed religion as law, see Discorsi II. 5 in which ―the Christian sect‖ is said to have ―written
[a] new law.‖ Cf. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae I-II q. 91 aa. 4-5 and Boccaccio, Decameron I. 3 on
the ―three laws,‖ i.e. Judaism, Islam, Christianity. I owe the latter reference to Nathan Tarcov.) The
achievement of the decemvirate seems to supersede the dictum of Discorsi I. 11 that mai fu alcuno ordinatore
di leggi straordinarie in uno popolo che non ricorresse a Dio.
213
sides in a case like this? How can he desire to aid both the cause of liberty and the cause of
tyranny?
The reader cannot but be taken aback by Machiavelli‘s even-handedness,
especially since elsewhere in the Discorsi he sings the praises of liberty and condemns
tyranny. It is true that, as we have seen, Machiavelli prefers, on both moral and political
grounds, a strong and intelligent tyranny to a weak or corrupt republic. But the episode of
the decemvirate occurred in the early, incorrupt Roman republic—the very republic which
serves as Machiavelli‘s model. Or does this chapter indicate a doubt about that model?88
Appius, explains Machiavelli, could become tyrant because he was favored by the people,
which thought he was on its side and hence that it could use him as a weapon against the
nobility. It was the people‘s hatred of the nobility, or its excessive desire to be free, which
misled it. Since this is precisely the same error the people made at the end of the republic,
when it favored men like Mario and Caesar,89 the distinction between the early, incorrupt
republic and the late, corrupt one becomes less clear. Had Appius fully succeeded, his very
success would have testified to the corruption of the Roman republic. He failed because,
among other reasons, he ultimately founded his tyranny on the nobles rather than on the
people. In giving advice to both sides, Machiavelli certainly plays a dangerous game; he
would perhaps justify himself by arguing that a republic which follows his advice will be
secure against tyrants, while a tyrant who follows his advice will favor the people and
therefore will promote, in some rough sense, the common good.
The republic as prince
Shortly after discussing the dictatorship (I. 34), Machiavelli discusses in I. 38 a
difference between strong republics and weak ones. Weak republics, he says in the title of
88
Lefort 1972, p. 518.
89
Discorsi I. 5, 17.
214
the chapter, do not know how to decide, and if they do make any decision, nasce più da
necessità che da elezione.
Having begun by distinguishing necessity from choice, he
proceeds to complicate that distinction through his examples. The example of a strong
republic, naturally, is Rome. Rome had forbidden its subject peoples to defend themselves
with their own arms; they were to depend upon the arms of Rome. But on one occasion,
when Rome was prostrated by a plague and unable to make war, and its subjects came to
beg for help against an invader, the senate ordered them to take up arms and defend
themselves. For knowing that they would of necessity take up arms, the senate preferred
that they do so in obedience, rather than disobedience, to itself, acciocché, avendo
disubbidito per necessità, non si avvezzassero a disubbidire per elezione. For the senate, in
its generosity and prudence, always wanted to remain principe delle deliberazioni che
avessero a pigliare i suoi; né si vergognò mai diliberare una cosa che fusse contraria al suo
modo di vivere o ad altre diliberazioni fatte da lui, quando la necessità gliene comandava.
We see that the senate in fact obeyed necessity, but in such a way as to appear to command
or to be ―prince:‖ the senate obeyed necessity, but its subjects obeyed the senate. To obey
necessity in this way, says Machiavelli, is to ―honor oneself‖ (onorarsi) with necessity.
Modern Florence, by contrast, did not know how to obey necessity properly. Once when
Cesare Borgia wished to pass through Tuscany with his army, and asked the Florentines for
their consent, they refused to give it—as if their refusal would count for anything, when they
were unarmed and Borgia was very well armed. Since they could not, in fact, prevent
Borgia from marching through Tuscany, it would have been more honorable for them if he
had appeared to do so by their will rather than against it. The Florentines were at Cesare‘s
mercy, but were not strong enough to admit this fact to themselves, so that in the end they
advertised their impotence rather than concealing it.
215
It seems then that, contrary to the title of the chapter, one always obeys necessity
rather than chooses freely, but that one can do so either honorably or dishonorably. The
honorable way is achieved by foresight: by obeying necessity in advance, one appears to
choose freely rather than to be forced. The Roman senate foresaw that its subjects would of
necessity arm themselves regardless of whether it gave its consent. Unlike the Florentines,
it preferred to consent in advance, and hence honorably, to what it would in any case have
been forced to accept. What was the precise nature of the necessity which the senate
foresaw and obeyed? To say that the senate foresaw that its subjects would of necessity arm
themselves is to say that it understood the compulsory force of the natural desire of selfpreservation. The senate understood that its subjects‘ desire to preserve life and property
was stronger than their desire to obey its commands (for they obeyed only in order to
preserve themselves). It understood that a few individuals may be persuaded to turn the
other cheek or even to become martyrs, but not whole peoples. It did not imagine that it
could induce its subjects to suppress their strongest natural desire by threats of future
punishment or by promises of future reward. It saw that under the circumstances, it was
impossible that they should refrain from arming themselves, and it did not wish to command
impossible things. It knew that the fate of him who commands impossible things is to be
disobeyed, that a single act of disobedience may grow into a habit, and that to command
impossible things is therefore to encourage general lawlessness.90
90
Machiavelli‘s understanding of the relation between necessity and choice is, of course, more complex than
we have indicated in these brief remarks. To say that one always obeys necessity is to gloss over the
common-sense distinction between necessity and desire (―I must‖ vs. ―I want‖), or between goods that are very
necessary, like life and property, and goods that are less necessary, like liberty and honor. In the example
discussed in the text, the senate permitted its subjects to arm themselves acciocché, avendo disubbidito per
necessità, non si avvezzassero a disubbidire per elezione: this implies an acceptance of the common-sense
distinction. Having disobeyed because they had to (to save life and property), the senate‘s subjects might have
gone on to disobey because they wanted to (because they wanted liberty or honor). We are reminded of the
distinction between necessity and ambition at the beginning of the previous chapter (I. 37): when one no longer
has to fight out of necessity, one fights out of ambition. For ambition è tanto potente ne’ petti umani che mai,
a qualunque grado si salgano, gli abbandona. If ambition is so powerful, however, does it not begin to
216
This chapter throws additional light on the Roman dictatorship, and vice versa. By
inventing the dictatorship, the Roman republic obeyed necessity, but it obeyed it in advance
and thereby brought honor to itself. The republic‘s relation to the dictator was like the
Roman senate‘s relation to its subjects: the republic always remained ―prince‖ of the
dictator‘s decisions. In this sense, one of the greatest princes discussed in the Discorsi is the
Roman republic itself, and in particular its most generous and prudent element, the senate.91
This partly explains why the Discorsi, which treats mainly of republics, also contains so
much advice for princes: in certain respects, republic and principality are interchangeable,
for both are states, i.e. dominions or empires over men.92
To develop further the theme of the senate as prince, we start from the following
considerations. A prince, according to Machiavelli‘s famous doctrine, should depend on his
own arms (arme proprie) rather than on fortune or the arms of others.93 No prince, of
course, can depend literally on his own arms, i.e. on the weapons which he himself
physically wields. He depends on the help of others; he depends, in fact, on the arms of
others. The problem, therefore, becomes how he can make the arms of others his own, or
how he can make others his faithful soldiers or friends. In Principe 17, Machiavelli teaches
that fidelity is best assured through fear rather than through love. For men love when they
wish but they fear when the prince wishes, and a prince should found his rule on what
belongs to him, not on what belongs to others. Men‘s fear belongs to the prince because he
can control it; not so their love. For love, in this case, flows from gratitude for benefits
resemble necessity? Even while accepting, on one level, the common-sense distinction between necessity and
choice, or between necessity and ambition, Machiavelli points to a higher level of analysis at which that
distinction becomes questionable.
91
For the meaning of generosity, see above, pp. 76-7.
92
Principe 1, first sentence.
93
Ibid. 12-13.
217
received; it depends, in other words, on a bond of obligation, which men do not hesitate to
break for their own utility. It seems that fear is to be reckoned among the prince‘s ―own
arms,‖ whereas gratitude or obligation is not to be so reckoned, and is therefore not of much
importance.
This conclusion, however, would be misleading. In the Principe, Machiavelli offers,
in fact, a number of suggestions (Machiavellian suggestions, naturally) as to how to inspire
gratitude and obligation, or how to benefit men, which he would hardly do if he thought
such matters unimportant. He remarks, for example, that injuries should be done all at once,
at the beginning of one‘s rule, so that afterward one may win men over with benefits. While
injuries should be done all at once so that they will be tasted less, benefits should be done
little by little so that they will be tasted better. One can win men over with benefits only
before one needs their help: when necessity comes, it is too late, because the good that you
do then is judged to be forced upon you, and inspires no gratitude. Men feel more obligated
to a benefactor from whom they had expected to receive harm (which implies that it might
be prudent to let men fear you before you benefit them). Men feel obligated as much for the
benefits they perform as for those they receive; hence, it would seem, a prince should not
only benefit his subjects, but arrange to be benefitted by them. The prince should, as far as
possible, found his rule upon the people rather than the grandi; this implies that he will
benefit the people and elicit their gratitude. A prince who wants his citizens to be faithful to
him must think of a means whereby they will always need him, in adversity as in prosperity;
but to say they will need him is to say they will need benefits from him.94
How is the priority of fear over love to be reconciled with the importance of benefits
and gratitude? We would suggest the following approach. The prince, says Machiavelli,
94
Ibid. 8 end, 9, 10 end.
218
should make himself feared, but not hated. It is easy for the prince to avoid being hated: he
must merely refrain from touching the citizens‘ property and their women.95 But security
for property and family honor is the chief benefit which most men seek from government.
We infer that a prince who conducts himself in this manner will, in the end, be loved as well
as feared, or at any rate that the citizens will recognize that they need him, and will be ready
to help him in adversity.96 They will fight for him, because in so doing they fight for
themselves and for what they hold most dear. Sentiments of gratitude and obligation may
be, in most men, unreliable motives when in conflict with utility; but they count for
something when in harmony with utility. They lend ardor to the cold calculations of selfinterest, and they help citizens rise to an enlightened and long-range view of their selfinterest, allowing them to make those temporary sacrifices which the prince may require of
them.97
In the Discorsi, this teaching of the Principe regarding benefits and gratitude is
applied to a republic. The senate takes the place of the prince. In I. 32, the concluding
chapter of the section on gratitude, Machiavelli discusses an example in which the senate,
with the enemy advancing upon the city, benefitted the people by relieving it from taxes,
and thereby inspired it to endure the rigors of war. Here the senate was indeed more
fortunate than prudent: it disregarded the principle (which we have already noticed in the
95
Ibid. 17, 19 beg.
96
Contrast, however, Discorsi I. 16: security for property and honor does not produce obligation, perché
nessuno confesserà mai avere obligo con uno che non l’offenda.
97
The advice in Principe 17 to choose being feared over being loved is, we believe, in part rhetorical, an
intentional simplification designed to counteract what Machiavelli regards as the excessive reliance on love
and goodness characteristic of both the Christian and classical traditions (Principe 14 end, 15-19). Machiavelli
certainly does not commit the gross error of supposing that men are motivated simply by fear. Men are
motivated not only by fear of evil, but also by hope of good or of gain. A government sustained only by the
former motivation would be weak compared with one sustained by both. For a fuller understanding of
Machiavelli‘s view of love and fear, we would need to make a careful study of Discorsi III. 19-23.
219
Principe) that one should not wait till the last moment to win men over with benefits,
[p]erché l’universale giudicherà non avere quel bene da te, ma dagli avversari tuoi; e
dovendo temere che, passata la necessità, tu ritolga loro quello che hai forzatamente dato,
non arà teco obligo alcuno. Nevertheless, for certain special causes which Machiavelli
enumerates, the people on this occasion decided (incorrectly) that the senate had benefitted
it not out of fear of the enemy but out of a disposition to be liberal; and so it made the
required sacrifices. On another, analogous occasion, the senate obtained a more deserved
success. Foreseeing that as Rome‘s conquests multiplied (conquests which were immensely
profitable to the senate and the nobility98), it would be necessary to wage war further and
further away from the city, and realizing that this would be impossible as long as the people
continued to perform military service without pay, the senate decreed that soldiers should
henceforth be paid a salary; this measure indeed required new taxes, but those taxes were
levied mainly on the nobility. The people was overjoyed at this unhoped-for benefit, and the
nobility acquired much credit in its eyes. The prudence of the senate in this example
consisted in its ability to anticipate necessity, and to disguise it as liberality: the senators
acted in modo che si fecero grado di quello a che la necessità gli constringeva. Had the
senate always acted so prudently, comments Machiavelli, it would have eliminated class
conflict in the city and taken away the credit and authority of the tribunes.99
As the contrafactual implies, the senate did not, in fact, always act so prudently. It
seems that the Roman nobility was too passionately attached to its property to practice
consistently the calculated liberality which would have secured its authority indefinitely.100
98
Discorsi I. 37.
99
Discorsi I. 51, 52 beg.
100
On the nobility‘s obstinate defense of its property, see ibid. I. 37 end.
220
A governing class instructed by Machiavelli might be able to moderate that attachment—
not, to be sure, through moral or civic virtue, but through understanding more clearly than
did the Romans the necessity of benefitting the people.101
101
As McCormick remarks, Machiavelli shows the grandi how to ―protect themselves from the deleterious
results of their own appetite for domination;‖ he shows them ―that they should obey that appetite more
prudently so as to satisfy it better.‖ For McCormick, Machiavelli‘s own primary intention is to benefit the
people: his appeal to the self-interest of the nobles is a ―rhetorical strategy,‖ the most effective way to induce
them to accept a more democratic regime. (McCormick 2011, pp. 37, 46) While agreeing with McCormick
that Machiavelli employs a rhetorical strategy of this kind, we doubt that Machiavelli is primarily a democrat;
his argument for democracy seems to us not more fundamental than his argument for elitism (see above, pp.
69-81).
221
5. Conclusion
What can Machiavelli teach us today about liberty? How can he guide our practice
and understanding of republican politics?
Thanks to the efforts of Quentin Skinner,
Maurizio Viroli and Philip Pettit, among others, questions like these have acquired scholarly
legitimacy. It is no longer sufficient, if it ever was, to study Machiavelli historically, as a
reflection of his time or as representing a particular stage in the history of ideas; one must
take his argument as seriously as one takes the argument of a contemporary. A philosophic
position, we have learned, is not necessarily obsolete because it has been forgotten, or
because circumstances have changed; and an attempt to return to it is not necessarily
motivated by nostalgia or by a lack of historical awareness. For it is not impossible that the
basic problems confronted by a past thinker are still problems today.
Machiavelli and liberalism
Skinner, Viroli and Pettit return to Machiavelli partly in order to defend the view that
the preservation of liberty depends on civic virtue and hence that the cultivation or
encouragement of such virtue must be a primary concern of the state, a view they hold to be
superior to the present-day, liberal view that the state should limit itself to protecting
individual rights.1 Whether the view they defend is precisely that of Machiavelli is open to
question. Certainly Machiavelli represents an alternative to liberalism in some respects.
Liberalism we take to be a political and economic doctrine in which individual rights are
paramount and in which self-interest is held to be the chief engine of the common good.
Machiavelli, by contrast, does not speak of rights, nor of individuals in the modern sense.
The primary components of his republic are not individuals but classes or, to use his own
1
Skinner 2002a, pp. 160-185 and 186-212; Viroli 1999, pp. 57-67; Pettit 1997, pp. 241-270.
222
term, humors. Whereas liberalism starts from the common desire for life, liberty and
property, for Machiavelli, what is common to all is less politically relevant than what
distinguishes some from others, and in particular, what distinguishes the grandi from the
people.
Instead of starting from one common desire, Machiavelli starts from two
contrasting desires: the desire to dominate and the desire not to be dominated. The wellordered conflict between these two desires, or humors, makes a republic free and powerful.
The art of the founder consists in designing institutions which allow the people to resist the
oppression of the grandi, without depriving the latter of the opportunity to exercise that
prudence and generosity of which they are sometimes capable.
If it is true that, in the long run, a republic must expand or perish, and that to expand
it must arm the people, then it will have to grant the people a share of authority. Only a
relatively democratic republic will be powerful enough to survive and prosper in a
dangerous world.
To the extent that democracy is more just than the alternatives,
Machiavelli‘s argument indirectly supports justice. But whereas liberal democracy rests on
a principle of justice, namely that all men possess equal and unalienable rights which ought
to be respected, Machiavellian democracy rests on a principle of necessity which produces
something like justice, without aiming at it. (In fact, if one wishes to bring about justice,
Machiavelli implies, the most effective approach is to forget about justice and focus on
necessity.) Liberals could blame Machiavelli for his imperialism, but he could reply that
liberal democracies have not always refrained from practicing imperialism when it has
appeared necessary or desirable.
Although Machiavelli, compared with liberals, is less concerned about justice, he is
more concerned about goodness. For liberals, goodness or morality is a private matter, or at
most something to be regulated by society and opinion rather than by law and government.
For Machiavelli, by contrast, since good laws are ineffective without good customs, a
223
republican government cannot be indifferent to the moral and even religious character of its
citizens. Regardless of the truth of morality and religion, Machiavelli is convinced that they
are politically beneficial, at least when ―well used.‖ That he should ignore justice and yet
show himself concerned for morality and religion may seem contradictory, for surely
morality and religion include a belief in justice. But Machiavelli has a double standard: one
standard for the people, another for ―princes.‖ The people should be good, but ―princes‖
should know how not to be good when necessity requires it.
While the goodness or, as we would say today, the civic virtue of the people is a
factor in the maintenance of liberty, it is by no means the most important one. A more
fundamental factor is equality, i.e. the prevention of those gross inequalities of wealth and
power which engender private authorities able to compete with the public authority. In the
presence of such inequalities, good customs will quickly degenerate. Hence the need, again,
for institutions through which the people can restrain the acquisitiveness of the grandi;
hence the need for memorable executions of the ambitious and the insolent. If liberals, in
defending property rights, sometimes forget about the pernicious effects of extreme
inequality, Machiavelli can serve as a corrective. Yet he can also correct those who attack
property rights and, in particular, those who would like to eliminate the grandi. For in spite
of their greed and malice, the grandi remain indispensable. A republic cannot stand without
commanding personalities. Innovation is impossible without ―princes.‖ An unprejudiced
governing class is needed in order to counteract the enthusiasms and follies of the people. A
balance is needed against the ambition of the people‘s representatives. In defending their
own rights and privileges, the grandi defend to some extent the public interest. Their desire
to dominate produces great inconveniences but also great benefits, and it is impossible to
have the latter without the former.
224
These differences between Machiavelli and liberals must not obscure what they have
in common. The two most important points of agreement, we believe, are the following.
First, they agree that while politics should understand the importance of religion and show
respect for religion, it should not be governed by religion. Whether religion is to be
interpreted in accordance with political necessity (Machiavelli), or whether politics and
religion are to be mutually independent (liberalism), politicians should not defer to priests in
political matters. Second, the common good is to be attained primarily through self-interest
rather than through moral or civic virtue. In Machiavelli‘s scheme, neither the grandi nor
the people is particularly public-spirited; each class seeks primarily to satisfy its own humor,
its own desire.2 Yet the conflict between these two self-interested classes produces the
common good. To take another example, ambition is a danger to liberty; Machiavelli‘s
solution is to increase the number of ambitious men, so that they will keep watch on each
other: jealousy, not moral virtue, will control ambition. For Machiavelli, a well-ordered
republic is one which knows how to make self-interest serve, unwittingly, the welfare of the
whole. Both the invisible hand of liberal economics and the checks and balances of liberal
constitutionalism appear to be variations on this theme. Even on the question of justice,
where Machiavelli‘s view diverges so sharply from the liberal one, we discern a common
thread. Machiavelli indeed has no doctrine of justice as such, but like liberals he holds that
self-interest, properly instructed or manipulated (―incentivized,‖ as we say today), can
accomplish the highest end of justice, which is the common good. While Machiavelli
represents in some ways a challenge to liberalism, he also provides considerable support for
it.
2
This is not contradicted by the fact that the people, in a well-ordered republic, is good: the people is good
when it pursues its self-interest in a way not ruinous to the polity. (Cf. Istorie fiorentine III. 1.)
225
Questions for Machiavelli
If one wishes to judge Machiavelli, one must first give him a fair hearing; one must
take seriously the possibility that he may be right. In this thesis, accordingly, we have tried
to demonstrate the plausibility of the argument of the Discorsi, however strange and even
outrageous that argument may sometimes appear at first glance. Having made the case for
Machiavelli to the best of our ability, we hope to have earned the right to offer, however
tentatively, some critical questions and observations.
Machiavelli, in the way we have indicated, replaces justice with self-interest as the
basis for politics. The advantage of this approach is that it seems to be more effective: few
men love justice, but all men love themselves. Moreover, given the prevalence of selfinterest, it is not safe to be strictly just: the man of strict justice will be ruined because his
justice will not be reciprocated. Or if he is not ruined, it is because the law protects him; but
the order within which law can rule is ultimately the creation of unjust men like Romulus or
Cesare Borgia.
The just man, whether he knows it or not, is protected by injustice,
including the injustices which his republic is compelled to inflict on other republics.
Now if we admit, with Machiavelli, that most men do not love justice, we are not
obliged to affirm that they care nothing for it. Men always claim to be just. There may
indeed be a shocking disparity between this claim and their actual behavior. But the claim
to be just is twofold: there is a claim made to others, and there is also a claim made to
oneself. Men desire not only to be regarded as just by others, but also to regard themselves
as just. The opinion that one is unjust seems to be intolerable for a human being. The most
unjust man believes he is just; he finds excuses for his most unjust deeds. Machiavelli‘s
own doctrine of necessity is a kind of excuse, a kind of justification. As to those who say
they do not believe in justice, they probably mean only that they do not believe in justice as
226
defined by society. When Plato‘s Callicles attacks justice, he in fact attacks, not justice as
such, but conventional justice, and when he defends the rule of the stronger, he defends it as
naturally just.3 In his contempt for conventional morality, Callicles may remind us of
Machiavelli‘s prince, except that Callicles thinks about justice, whereas the prince thinks
only about necessity. Callicles seems a truer human portrait. Human beings, for all of their
injustice, believe in justice and feel the need to justify themselves. What is the meaning of
this belief and this need? We are not sure Machiavelli has provided a sufficient answer.
The same point may be made another way. Machiavelli considers that men, and
especially princes, must yield to necessity rather than follow justice. But this necessity is
not absolute; it is not the kind of necessity that regulates, for example, the motion of the
heavenly bodies. Rather, it is a hypothetical necessity: if one desires X, then it is necessary
to do Y. If the prince desires to maintain his state, then he must employ force and fraud
whenever those means are conducive to his end. What is necessary is, then, dependent on
what the end is. The real issue concerns ends. If the only ends are security and glory, one
will be led toward Machiavelli‘s position. But if justice, too, is somehow an inescapable
human end, then matters are more complicated. Could a desire to simplify, an impatience
with moral complexity, underlie Machiavelli‘s procedure and explain a large part of his
charm? Is Machiavelli too quick to believe that he has refuted what he has merely rendered
problematic?
Machiavelli presents the conflict between the grandi and the people as one between
different humors or desires: between the desire to dominate and the desire not to be
dominated. The implication is that it is not a conflict between different conceptions of
justice—between an oligarchic one and a democratic one. Whatever claims about justice
3
Plato, Gorgias 483a-484c.
227
the two parties may raise must apparently be understood as mere rationalizations of their
respective humors. Men‘s assertion that they are motivated by a belief in justice is not to be
taken seriously. Only by concentrating on what men actually want, rather than on what they
say they want, will one understand the nature of politics and be able to bring about political
improvement. Speech and reason are de-emphasized, in favor of sub-rational causes. Yet
Machiavelli is himself a rationalist: he holds that his opinions can and should be defended
with reasons, and those reasons are not presented as mere rationalizations of a humor. Why
are we expected to take seriously Machiavelli‘s reasons, but not those of the people or the
grandi? Why should we not regard the people and the grandi as motivated by a mixture of
humors and reasons, rather than by humors alone?
Machiavelli may be described as a utilitarian.
The Discorsi is an amazing
demonstration of how far one can go in building a free and powerful society on the basis of
utility alone (understood broadly, to include glory). Still, Machiavelli knows that certain
human experiences somehow transcend utility. In particular, he is very familiar with the
experience of admiration, with our human capacity to recognize virtue or excellence in
others, regardless of whether that virtue or excellence is useful to us or not. He does not
dissent from the judgment of his predecessors that la virtù si lauda e si ammira ancora negli
inimici suoi.4 Yet admiration of virtue or excellence seems to lead inevitably to a notion of
desert, and when one reasons about desert one is surely reasoning about justice. That selflove often distorts our perception of what others deserve, that the scarcity of resources often
makes it impossible to give them what they deserve, and that ingratitude to the virtuous may
sometimes, as Machiavelli argues, be conducive to the common good, are not sufficient
grounds for excluding notions of desert and justice from political and philosophic reasoning.
4
Discorsi I. 58.
228
Recognizing the virtue or excellence of others is not a wholly disinterested activity;
it gives pleasure. Together with this pleasure may be generated a desire for friendship with
the one whose excellence we have recognized. Justice and friendship seem to have a
common root. But whereas justice is self-abnegating, friendship is self-fulfilling. It is
almost as though friendship were the reward for justice. At any rate, although friends,
insofar as they are friends, do not need justice,5 justice seems to be a necessary preparation
for friendship, at least to the extent that the simply unjust man, who views all other human
beings as prey or as instruments, unfits himself for friendship. Machiavelli has testified
eloquently to his knowledge and experience of friendship, in particular of the kind that is
based on virtue.6 But is such friendship compatible with Machiavellian politics? Is it
compatible with politics tout court?
If indeed there is a conflict between the harsh
necessities of politics and the best kind of friendship, this would be a ground for criticizing
politics, i.e. for exposing its essential imperfection. Machiavelli does not offer such a
critique, for he is determined to be politically effective, and to sow doubts about politics
would undermine this goal. It would tend to lead men toward a contemplative rather than an
active life. It would reinforce the pernicious effects of modern education, i.e. of modern
religion, which has made men weak by lowering their esteem for worldly honor.
Machiavelli desires to restore the ancient opinion that worldly honor is the highest good, so
that men may become stronger and more ferocious, and hence more capable of living free.
Machiavelli may not entirely agree with this ancient opinion,7 but he assumes the
5
Aristotle, Nic. Eth. VIII. 1, 1155a26-7.
6
Discorsi, Dedicatory Letter and Arte della guerra, I. beg.
7
In the Dedicatory Letter of the Principe, Machiavelli says that he esteems nothing so much as the knowledge
of the actions of great men (Tarcov 2010a, p. 20), and in his letter to Vettori of 10 December 1513 (Opere , p.
1160), he says that when reading the ancient authors, he feeds on that food which alone is his and for which he
was born. Machiavelli may believe, in other words, that the highest good is not honor but rather knowledge or
wisdom.
229
responsibility of promoting it, and he does not clearly articulate an alternative to it. Thus he
may leave some readers unsatisfied. Still, even such readers, even those who believe in the
essential imperfection of politics, will not deny that politics is necessary, and thus will not
be able to ignore Machiavelli‘s argument.
230
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