How Machiavellian was Machiavelli?

When we think of the fifteenth-century political theorist Niccolò Machiavelli, who lived in Florence, Italy from 1469–1527, we often imagine the personification of evil — a demon with beady, black eyes and an even blacker heart. To be “Machiavellian” is to be deceitful and cunning, to stop at nothing in order to gain absolute power. His best known work, The Prince, a guidebook for aspiring monarchical rulers, remains infamous for its justification of violent, ruthless means to seize and hold on to power. Cultivating fear rather than love, the Machiavellian prince learns “not to be good,” and in the process becomes “a great pretender and dissembler.” Machiavelli is synonymous with an amoral approach to politics where “the ends justify the means,” his works popularly characterized as dark, chilling, and disturbing.

But this caricature is far from the real Machiavelli. To understand the person and his work, a little context is necessary. In Machiavelli’s time, Italy was not yet a unified country; it was split into warring city-states and occupied by foreign empires. Florence, then an independent republic, was divided internally by warring factions of rich families and their supporters. Eventually, the republic came under the control of the Medici family, who built a large patronage network of supporters to dominate the governing institutions. In 1494, the Medici were expelled from Florence and the republic was re-established. Regardless of who was in power, Florence was constantly under threat not only from neighboring Italian city-states but also from other foreign powers. Machiavelli’s political advice reflects the violent reality of Renaissance politics; he advocates for the proper use of force as a means of preserving and strengthening states. 

From 1498 –1512, Machiavelli loyally served the Florentine Republic as secretary and went on diplomatic missions, observing the major power players of his day and maintaining strategic alliances. Machiavelli drew upon these experiences, along with a study of history and classics, as the basis of the political advice in his major works: The Prince (written in 1513, published in 1532), Discourses on Livy (written in 1513, published in 1531), and the Florentine Histories (completed in 1525). Machiavelli not only served the Florentine Republic, but in an age when monarchy prevailed, he was a firm believer in republican government. His understanding of republics was based on the Roman Republic, which was the subject of his work on republican theory, Discourses on Livy. According to Machiavelli, a republic — a government ruled by law, rather than a hereditary monarchy or aristocracy — is the best guarantor of liberty. Only in republics can liberty flourish, as no one is subject to the arbitrary will of an absolute ruler. Citizens can exercise their political rights freely within the limits of the law and live free from fear of domination. Machiavelli claims in the Discourses that this freedom enables republics to thrive and prosper. 

The Fragility of Republican Virtue

The ancients believed republics needed more than just laws to survive. They depended upon civic virtue: the love of citizens for the common good. Virtuous citizens demonstrate their goodness through acts of public service and participation in open deliberations, remaining vigilant against abuses of power for the sake of private interests. Without civic virtue, republics fall prey to corruption – a state of moral degradation where self-serving men pervert the laws and orders that uphold a republic. Corruption breeds tyranny, and eventually the people turn to the dominance of an absolute ruler to provide them a sense of security. In exchange, they lose their liberty as they become accustomed to obeying a ruler rather than governing themselves. 

Why turn to Machiavelli? He recognized that republics are fragile and vulnerable to internal strife. In the Florentine Histories, Machiavelli emphasizes the necessity for unity in preserving republics, for “if no other lesson is useful to the citizens who govern republics, it is that which shows the causes of the hatreds and divisions of the city, so…they may be able to maintain themselves united.” As if anticipating the Founding Fathers, Machiavelli recognizes that virtue has its limitations given the self-serving nature of humans. Republics struggle to satisfy human self-interest as they do not provide the same rewards — wealth, power, status — as monarchies, while the liberty that comes with a free life is often taken for granted. Hence, they can easily fall prey to those who create and exploit social divisions to further their own selfishness and ambition over the common good. 

Glory to the Redeemer 

What remedy does Machiavelli provide for the corruption that afflicts republics? If they are to survive, republics need to be frequently renewed, either through their orders, or, when orders fail, through the virtue of great individuals whom Machiavelli calls redeemers. Redeemers renew a republic by returning it to its foundational values: a love of common good and country. Through their good example they inspire others to take on the hard work of saving political orders from corruption. 

In a 2013 lecture, political philosopher Maurizio Viroli argues that the concept of ‘redemption’ and the ‘redeemer’ is key to understanding Machiavelli’s work. According to Viroli, Machiavelli presents a vision of “grand politics” to instruct and inspire great leaders to institute better political orders, harness the power of goodness to overcome envy, and liberate their own states from corruption, tyranny, or foreign domination. Through the extraordinary deeds of founding or redeeming states, redeemers earn glory — the lasting fame of the good. 

What Does it Take to Redeem a Republic? 

Machiavelli recognizes that many obstacles prevent political change from becoming a reality. Humans are, at best, hesitant, and at worst, resistant to change or incapable of sustaining loyalty to a cause when challenges arise. In addition to the ambition of the selfish, there are those who oppose change as they benefit from the status quo. What follows is the moral dilemma created by the necessity of preserving — or in this case, redeeming — the state. Machiavelli’s redeemer must assume absolute power and be prepared to use violence to ensure they can create the good laws and good orders necessary for redemption, yet it is nearly impossible to find a virtuous person willing to use evil means in service of good ends. Thus, Machiavelli promises God’s support to the redeemer. As Viroli states, God, a friend of the just, excuses the redeemer for any cruelties committed in the name of redemption because God understands that some acts of good require evil. Hence, “there was never any orderer of extraordinary laws for a people who did not have recourse to God.” For Machiavelli, when the state is in danger, “there ought not to enter any consideration of either just or unjust, merciful or cruel, praiseworthy or ignominious; indeed every other concern put aside, one ought to follow entirely the policy that saves its life and maintains its liberty.” Virtue must have its own arms to win in a cruel, wicked world. 

Thus redemption is a double-edged sword. After all, tyrants and dictators have utilized the promise of redemption as a pretext to enslave and dominate republics. However, Machiavelli states in the Discourses that “the authority that is seized by violence…harms republics.” Above all, Machiavelli continues, democratic institutions must be preserved: “if one sets up a habit of breaking the orders for the sake of good, then later, under that coloring, they are broken for ill.” Nonetheless, redemption has a dark history. During Reconstruction, white segregationists in the South, calling themselves “redeemers,” terrorized newly freed African Americans and legislated “Black codes” that violated the rights of Black citizens. 

Entering into Evil

In this light, is the myth of the Machiavellian redeemer viable for republics? If we accept the interpretation of Machiavelli as a satirist who mockingly extolled the qualities of a monarchical prince to warn against absolute power, perhaps the redeemer is a warning to those who would entrust the salvation of republics to leaders who claim, “I alone can fix it.” Indeed, the same desire to save a country can be used to tyrannize it. Yet, true redeemers do not promise quick fixes or easy solutions; the path of redemption is arduous and demanding. True redemption requires a transformation of a collective mentality of servility to one of freedom. It is an incredibly difficult transformation because with freedom comes additional responsibilities and a new set of beliefs alien to those accustomed to blind submission. Until a people can govern itself, it remains a multitude “useless without a head to order it.” Redemption requires a great individual because humans are naturally imitative. If they lack the greatness of soul required to redeem others, they can follow the paths of great men when pursuing virtue. 

In a 2016 panel, political theorist George Kateb critiques Machiavelli’s vision of a redeemer as undemocratic for its emphasis on individual greatness. However, we still expect our leaders to be inspirational figures of exceptional character. Individual ambition is not necessarily at odds with republican values as long as we reward those who demonstrate civic virtue. Machiavelli states in Florentine Histories that reputation earned through dedicating oneself to the common good “helps” a republic, as the individual’s reputation depends on defending the laws of the republic. It also preserves the unity of the republic as “one cannot acquire partisans,” followers who hope to enrich themselves through loyalty to the leader.

Nonetheless, it would seem that some admirers of Machiavelli gloss over the dark side of Machiavelli’s republicanism. The very notion that political violence is excusable seems to conflict with the rule of law fundamental to republics. However, Machiavelli advises constraints upon the use of violence. In The Prince, he states that cruelties committed for securing the state should be done only once. In addition, though Machiavelli excuses the use of political violence, might does not always make right. He continues, “there are two kinds of combat: one with laws, the other with force… because the first is often not enough, one must have recourse to the second…one without the other is not lasting [emphasis added].” Because states need good laws and good arms, violence is often necessary to establish rule of law.

The Passion of Patriotism

As long as citizens are ruled by law and love liberty, most will follow the teachings of good people as expressed through rhetoric. Rhetoric is the backbone of republics, as it provides a peaceful means to resolve conflicts and correct the errors of a misguided people. Redemptive rhetoric appeals to the conscience of citizens through inspiring generous passions — love of the common good and country — along with indignation towards injustice and tyranny. Redeemers are orators who, through their goodness and eloquence, reawaken civic virtue in their fellow citizens. 

The Florentine Histories contain many examples of stirring speeches that demonstrate the power of patriotism to overcome enmity and restore unity to republics driven apart by corrupt factions. In these speeches, where Machiavelli writes as a historian imagining the words of the great, citizens express their patriotism as charity, the Christian virtue of a generous love that prevails over particular interests. This is Machiavelli’s reinterpretation of Christianity as a religion of political redemption in action. Machiavelli argues that without a good religion, republics cannot be free. Religious faith is necessary for republics because it reinforces civic virtue, “keep[s] men good,” and encourages citizens to serve their country. In the Discourses, Machiavelli critiques the prevailing practice of Christianity for glorifying humility, which has “rendered the world weak and given it in prey to criminal men…seeing that the collectivity of men, so as to go to paradise, think more of enduring their beatings than of avenging them.” Corrupt Christianity enslaves its believers by taking away their love of freedom in exchange for the promise of individual salvation in Heaven. True Christianity, when interpreted correctly through the practice of charity, “permits us the exaltation and defense of the fatherland…it wishes us to love and honor it and to prepare ourselves to be such that we can defend it.” Because they are divinely inspired by the Christian virtue of charity and love the common good, redeemers possess the moral strength necessary to resist corruption. Charity is the foundation for patriotism. This belief still persists today; as Catholic author Jared Staudt writes in a 2020 op-ed, “love and service of one’s country follow from…charity.” By appealing to shared affection for the republic, patriotic citizens compel their leaders to reform corrupt institutions: “…this republic of ours especially can not only maintain itself united…but reform itself with good customs and civil modes…To this we urge you, moved by charity for our fatherland [emphasis added], not by any private passion.”

Machiavelli’s conception of patriotism also borrows from Roman political thought, where patriotism was seen as an attachment to the patria (fatherland), its citizens, and its political institutions. (Note for readers: here fatherland does not refer to “nation-state,” a later concept developed in the 18th and 19th centuries. A nation-state is a sovereign political unit consisting of an exclusive group of people with a shared characteristic such as ethnicity, race, religion, or history. Fascist and Nazi political thought conflates fatherland/patria and nation-state. Here, fatherland/patria refers to a local community of free citizens bound by law and justice). Patriotism is the basis for what Machiavelli calls a “political way of life,” a republican culture which emphasizes active citizenship through participating in debates, voting on legislation, and fighting for the republic. Living equally under the laws creates fellowship between those who belong to a political community, which is fundamental to the human experience. Roman politician and orator Cicero writes of political fellowship that “it is a still more intimate bond to belong to the same city; for the inhabitants of a city have in common among themselves forum, temples, public walks, streets, laws, rights, courts, modes and places of voting, besides companionships and intimacies, engagements and contracts, of many with many.” In contrast, corruption destroys fellowship as self-interest corrodes relationships between citizens. According to Machiavelli, a sure sign of corruption is that “there is neither union nor friendship among citizens” as the corrupt do not respect the oaths, promises, and obligations that bind them to each other. The perversion of morals in corrupt republics is evident when “harmful men are praised as industrious and good men are blamed as fools.” Public honors are awarded to unscrupulous men, culminating in the “persecution of the good [and] exaltation of the wicked.” In the corrupt republic, avarice reigns and citizens join factions that align with their self-interest, motivated by the “false glory” of wealth and other undeserved honors. Seeking security amidst the strife generated by factional conflict, they become servile “by giving to others [the liberty they] either would not or could not keep ourselves by accord.” Lacking “charity for their fatherland,” corrupt people lose their humanity. Hence, patriots appeal to “humanity,” calling upon the audience to remember the ties of fellowship that bind them as citizens and reject the pernicious, self-serving ambition that harms republics. Through awakening the passion of patriotism, the redeemer inspires their fellow citizens to find the strength to resist corruption, act for the common good, and reform political orders. 

The Return to Beginnings

In the Discourses, Machiavelli states that republics are renewed by leading them “back toward their beginnings,” as “all the beginnings of sects, republics and kingdoms must have some goodness in them.”

In a corrupt republic, a return to beginnings involves reinforcing the importance of religious belief, justice, and most importantly, respect for good citizens. While laws and institutions that restrain individual ambition can restore goodness, if they are not regularly supported by the example of good people, they become ineffective. The example set by an exceptional individual is necessary to inculcate virtue and reverence for foundational principles. 

In our own republic, this return to beginnings takes the form of appeals to founding principles as expressed in the Declaration of Independence: “we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” American “goodness” is in the promise of human dignity as expressed in the Declaration. Abraham Lincoln, appropriately dubbed by leading Lincoln scholar Allen Guelzo as the “redeemer president,” famously drew upon the founding principles in the Declaration of Independence to inspire unity during the Civil War. Lincoln, Guelzo states in the book Our Ancient Faith, understood the importance of “first principles” for countering the degeneration of morals that happens under corruption. As Lincoln states, “when in the distant future some man, some faction, some interest, should set up the doctrine that none but rich men, or none but white men, were entitled to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, their posterity might look up again to the Declaration of Independence and take courage to renew the battle which their fathers began.” The aspirations contained in the Declaration challenge us to live up to them through governance “of the people, by the people, and for the people,” as expressed by Lincoln in the Gettysburg Address, to preserve liberty so as to stay true to our beginnings. 

A Machiavellian Redeemer for America?

Ultimately, Machiavelli saw politics as a means of restoring goodness in an unjust world. Machiavelli’s dream of a redeemer disproves the notion that he was a cold, calculating miser who despised human imagination. Contrary to what one scholar has asserted, Machiavelli’s vision of politics did not “fail” for lack of imagination; rather it has been misunderstood as a blanket justification of evil. 

Nonetheless, the redeemer is problematic on several fronts. Extolling individual greatness can lead to dangerous cults of personality developing around leaders. In addition, history provides numerous examples of injustices committed in the name of redemption. How much will we sacrifice for the sake of “grand politics?” 

Why, with all the peril that attends it, is the idea of redemption and the redeemer still relevant to our times? We are in an age of acrimony; our politics are defined by mutual enmity, extreme division, and toxic partisanship. Cynicism pervades our public life, disincentivizing cooperation among politicians and lowering support for large-scale initiatives for repairing broken political systems. This environment of distrust leads to a vicious cycle in which cynicism is perpetuated. In a cynical atmosphere, democratic principles and the possibility of change cannot survive. The cynic assumes we are irredeemable, becoming passive in the face of injustice. Machiavelli understood the dangers of complacency, since docile citizens are incapable of keeping alive the love of liberty and the common good necessary to preserve republics. 

Some have suggested that our politics would improve if politicians focused on problem-solving. While that can restore some trust in politics, the legislative process is designed to be slow and deliberative in a democratic government. Reducing politics to “getting things done” will not counter the deeper problems of cynicism and apathy. 

If we are to restore goodness in our political life, we need alternate visions of politics beyond pragmatism that appeal to our deepest aspirations and provide hope for unity. Who better than Machiavelli to show us a way forward, who despite his famously pessimistic views of human nature still believed in the power of goodness? 

Sadly for Machiavelli, the Florentine Republic was not redeemed, nor did it last for long. In 1512, the Medici overthrew the Republic and Machiavelli lost his post as Secretary. He was later imprisoned, tortured on suspicion of conspiring against the Medici, and exiled. Defiant in the face of misery, Machiavelli was determined to keep hope for the freedom of Florence alive, writing in the Discourses that “it is the duty of a good man to teach others the good that you could not work because of the malignity of the times and of fortune, so that when many are capable of it, someone of them more loved by heaven may be able to work it.” So he poured his passion and soul into celebrating redeemers, in the hopes of inspiring citizens to make politics a force for good, for, “if in describing the things that happened in this devastated world one does not tell about either the strength of soldiers, or the virtue of the captain, or the love of the citizen for his fatherland, it will be seen with what deceits, with what guile and arts the princes, soldiers, and heads of republics conducted themselves so as to maintain the reputation they have not deserved.” 

Perhaps we can use the promise of redemption to inspire us to create a political community in which all men are truly created equal. For that, we need heroes, selfless individuals, and redeemers who can challenge and inspire us to make our aspirations reality. 

The time is now. Why wait? Fortune favors the young and impetuous. It is not too late for us to see our redeemer.