Why Do We Still Term Niccolo Machiavelli A Relevant Figure?

 

Why do we still have to recall Niccolo Machiavelli? That question might naturally and legitimately occur to anyone encountering an entry about him in an encyclopedia of philosophy. Certainly, Machiavelli contributed to a large number of important discourses in Western thought—political theory most notably, but also history and historiography, Italian literature, the principles of warfare, and diplomacy. But Machiavelli never seems to have considered himself a philosopher—indeed, he often overtly rejected philosophical inquiry as beside the point—nor do his credentials suggest that he fits comfortably into standard models of academic philosophy. His writings are maddeningly and notoriously unsystematic, inconsistent and sometimes self-contradictory. He tends to appeal to experience and example in the place of rigorous logical analysis. Yet there are good reasons to include Machiavelli among the greatest of political philosophers, some of which are internal to his writings. In spite of the temptation to emphasize his political pragmatism, a lively scholarly debate rages about the presence of a coherent and original philosophy, addressed to topics of concern to philosophers, at the core of his thoughts.

Moreover, succeeding thinkers who more obviously qualify as philosophers of the first rank did feel compelled to engage with his ideas, either to dispute them or to incorporate his insights into their own teachings. Even if Machiavelli grazed at the fringes of philosophy, the impact of his extensive musings has been widespread and lasting. The terms “Machiavellian” or “Machiavellism” find regular purchase among philosophers concerned with a range of ethical, political, and psychological phenomena, regardless of whether or not Machiavelli himself invented “Machiavellism” or was in fact a “Machiavellian” in the sense commonly ascribed to him. Machiavelli’s critique of utopian philosophical schemes challenges an entire tradition of political philosophy in a manner that commands attention and demands consideration and response. Finally, a new generation of so-called “neo-Roman” political theorists finds inspiration in Machiavelli’s version of republicanism. Thus, Machiavelli deserves a place at the table in any comprehensive survey of political philosophy.

Relatively little is known for certain about Machiavelli’s early life in comparison with many important figures of the Italian Renaissance. He was born on 3 May 1469 in Florence and at a young age became a pupil of a renowned Latin teacher, Paolo da Ronciglione. It is speculated that he attended the University of Florence, and even a cursory glance at his corpus reveals that he received an excellent humanist education. It is only with his entrance into public view, with his appointment in 1498 as the Second Chancellor of the Republic of Florence, however, that we begin to acquire a full and accurate picture of his life. For the next fourteen years, Machiavelli engaged in a flurry of diplomatic activity on behalf of Florence, traveling to the major centers of Italy as well as to the royal court of France and to the imperial curia of Maximilian.

Florence had been under a republican government since 1494, when the leading Medici family and its supporters had been driven from power. After four years under Savonarola’s leadership and eventual downfall, the Florentine Republic sought more stable government and reformed its institutions accordingly. During this time, Machiavelli entered public service and thrived under the patronage of the city’s gonfaloniere or chief administrator for life, Piero Soderini, who was elected to that position in 1502. In his official capacities, Machiavelli travelled considerably, producing a large body of dispatches reporting on events across Europe. He also composed personal correspondence, poetic works, and short political analyses. In 1512, however, with the assistance of Spanish and papal troops, the Medici defeated the republic’s civic militia and dissolved its government. Machiavelli was a direct victim of the regime change: he was immediately dismissed from office and, when he was suspected of conspiring against the Medici, was imprisoned and tortured for several weeks in early 1513. His retirement thereafter to his family farm outside of Florence afforded the occasion and the impetus for him to turn to intellectual pursuits.

The first of his writings in a more reflective vein was also ultimately the one most commonly associated with his name, The Prince. Penned at the end of 1513, but only published posthumously in 1532, The Prince was composed in haste by an author who, among other things, sought to regain his status in Florentine political affairs. Originally written for presentation to Giuliano de’Medici, the dedication was changed, upon Giuliano’s death, to Lorenzo de’Medici, who almost certainly did not read it when it came into his hands in 1516.

Meanwhile, Machiavelli’s retirement from politics led him to other literary activities. He wrote verse, plays, and short prose, authored a study of The Art of War (published in 1521), and produced biographical and historical sketches. Most importantly, he composed his other major contribution to political thought, the Discourses on the Ten Books of Titus Livy, an exposition of the principles of republican rule masquerading as a commentary on the work of the famous historian of the Roman Republic. Unlike The Prince, the Discourses was written over a long period of time. The book may have been shaped by informal discussions attended by Machiavelli among some of the leading Florentine intellectual and political figures under the sponsorship of Cosimo Rucellai.

Near the end of his life, and probably as a result of the aid of well-connected friends whom he never stopped badgering for intervention, Machiavelli began to return to the favor of the Medici family. In 1520, he was commissioned by Cardinal Giulio de’Medici to compose a history of Florence an assignment completed in 1525 and presented to the Cardinal, who had since ascended to the papal throne as Clement VII, in Rome. Other small tasks were forthcoming from the Medici government, but before the opportunity arose for him to return fully to public life, he died on 21 June 1527.

Traditionally, political philosophers of the past posited a special relationship between moral goodness and legitimate authority. Many authors especially those who composed mirror-of-princes books or royal advice books during the Middle Ages and Renaissance believed that the use of political power was only rightful if it was exercised by a ruler whose personal moral character was strictly virtuous. Thus rulers were counseled that if they wanted to succeed—that is, if they desired a long and peaceful reign and aimed to pass their office down to their heirs—they must be sure to behave in accordance with conventional ethical standards, that is, the virtues and piety. In a sense, it was thought that rulers did well when they did good; they earned the right to be obeyed and respected on account of their moral and religious rectitude.

Machiavelli criticized at length precisely this moralistic view of authority in his best-known treatise, The Prince. For Machiavelli, there is no moral basis on which to judge the difference between legitimate and illegitimate uses of power. Rather, authority and power are essentially coequal: whoever has power has the right to command; but goodness does not ensure power and the ruler has no more authority on account of being good. Thus, in direct opposition to morally derived theories of politics, Machiavelli says that the only real concern in politics is the acquisition and maintenance of power although he talks less about power per se than about “maintaining the state”. In this sense, Machiavelli presents a trenchant criticism of the concept of authority by arguing that the notion of legitimate rights of rulership adds nothing to the actual possession of power. The Prince purports to reflect the self-conscious political realism of an author who is fully aware—on the basis of direct experience in the service of the Florentine government—that goodness and right are not sufficient to win and maintain political supremacy. Machiavelli thus seeks to learn and teach the rules of political power. For him, it is necessary for any successful ruler to know how to use power effectively. Only by means of its proper application, Machiavelli believes, can individuals be brought to obey and will the ruler be able to maintain the state in safety and security.

Machiavelli’s political theory, then, excludes issues of moral authority and legitimacy from consideration in the discussion of political decision-making and political judgment. Nowhere does this come out more clearly than in his treatment of the relationship between law and force. Machiavelli acknowledges that good laws and good arms constitute the dual foundations of a well-ordered political system. But he immediately adds that since coercion creates legality, he will concentrate his attention on force. Nicolai Machiavelli says in his book The Prince, “Since there cannot be good laws without good arms, I will not consider laws but speak of arms”. In other words, valid law rests entirely upon the threat of coercive force; authority is impossible for Machiavelli as a right apart from the power to enforce it. Machiavelli is led to conclude that fear is always preferable to affection in subjects, just as violence and deception are superior to legality in effectively controlling them.


Marina Sedneva, originally from
Russia, is currently associated with International Center for Journalists headquartered in Washington DC, USA.