From Shakespeare’s plays to modern TV dramas, the unscrupulous for whom the ends always justify the means has become a familiar character type we love to hate. So familiar, in fact, that for centuries we’ve had single word to describe such characters: Machiavellian. But is possible that we’ve been using that word wrong this whole time?
The early 16th century statesman Niccoló Machiavelli wrote many works of history, philosophy, and drama. But his lasting notoriety comes from a brief political known as The Prince, framed as advice to current and future monarchs. Machiavelli wasn’t the first to do this– in fact there was an entire tradition of known as “mirrors for princes” going back to antiquity. But unlike his predecessors, Machiavelli didn’t try to describe ideal government or exhort his audience to rule justly and virtuously. Instead, focused on the question of power– how to acquire it, and how to keep it. in the decades after it was published, The Prince gained a diabolical reputation. During the European Wars of Religion, both Catholics and Protestants blamed for inspiring acts of violence and tyranny committed by their opponents. By the end of the century, Shakespeare was using “Machiavel” to denote an amoral opportunist, leading directly our popular use of “Machiavellian” as a synonym for manipulative villainy.
At first glance, The Prince’s as a manual for tyranny seems well-deserved. Throughout, Machiavelli appears entirely unconcerned with morality, except insofar as it’s helpful or harmful to maintaining power. For instance, princes told to consider all the atrocities necessary to seize power, and commit them in a single stroke to ensure future stability. Attacking neighboring territories and oppressing religious minorities are mentioned as effective ways of occupying the public. Regarding a prince’s personal behavior, advises keeping up the appearance of virtues such as honesty or generosity, being ready to abandon them as soon as one’s interests are threatened. famously, he notes that for a ruler, “it is much safer be feared than loved.” The tract even ends with an appeal to Lorenzo de’ Medici, the recently installed ruler of Florence, urging him to unite the city-states of Italy under his rule.
Many have justified Machiavelli as motivated by unsentimental realism and a desire for peace in an Italy torn by internal and external conflict. According to this view, Machiavelli was first to understand a difficult truth: the greater good of political stability is worth whatever unsavory tactics are needed to attain it. The philosopher Isaiah Berlin suggested that rather than being amoral, The Prince hearkens back to ancient Greek morality, placing the glory of the above the Christian ideal of individual salvation.
But what we know about Machiavelli might fit this picture. The author had served in his native Florence for 14 years as a diplomat, staunchly defending its elected republican government against would-be monarchs.
When the family seized power, he not only lost his position, but even tortured and banished. With this in mind, it’s possible to read pamphlet he wrote from exile not as a defense of princely rule, but a scathing description of how operates. Indeed, Enlightenment figures like Spinoza saw it as warning free citizens of the various ways in which they can be subjugated by aspiring rulers.
In fact, both readings might true. Machiavelli may have written a manual for tyrannical rulers, but by sharing it, he also revealed the cards to those who would ruled. In doing so, he revolutionized political philosophy, laying the foundations for Hobbes and thinkers to study human affairs based on their concrete realities rather than preconceived ideals. Through his brutal and shocking honesty, Machiavelli sought to shatter popular delusions about what power really entails. And as he wrote to friend shortly before his death, he hoped that people would “learn the way to Hell in to flee from it.”