It's been ages since my last book review (way back
last November). I've read heaps of books since then, but just haven't got around to writing about them (maybe one day!).
This one's a good one, though. It kinda turns things upside down.
We probably all know what it means to call someone Machiavellian. That they're cunning, scheming or unscrupulous, especially in politics. That they'll do whatever it takes to further their own interests and power.
The word, of course, comes from Niccolo Machiavelli, who was writing in and around 1500, in Florence, Italy. In particular, it comes from his well-known book,
The Prince (1513).
Most people these days who pick up
The Prince quickly find phrases that seem to support and praise the Machiavellian outlook on life. You skim the book, and they leap out.
And most people don't read much beyond that. You go into it expecting the writer to advocate Machiavellian attitudes, and you quickly see it there in black and white.
If you're turned on by power, you like it and are happy that here's a respectable writer supporting your prior view. If you're turned off by power, you put it aside as the writings of a cold-hearted monster.
What most people don't do is read the details -- read beyond the grand, provocative statements.
Erica Benner has taken the time to read further -- Machiavelli's life, his other writings, the context of his time, and the historical references and examples that abound in his writings.
Benner argues that this "Machiavellian" reading of Machiavelli, which most of us take for granted, is wrong. According to Benner, in
The Prince and elsewhere, Machiavelli precisely argues against a Machiavellian approach. Though I'm no expert, and have not read Machiavelli as closely as I should, for now I'm persuaded by Benner's reasoning.
A few years ago I read
an interview with Benner. It intrigued me, and not long after when one of my teenage students wanted to read Machiavelli with me, we talked about Benner's view as we read
The Prince together. I kept mostly neutral, but emphasised the importance of close reading works and evaluating the reasons for any assertions.
Then I put it aside and forgot about it.
This year, Mama reignited my interest in Machiavelli. It's a long story, but briefly, Mama is
involved with a Hong Kong-based TV production company, and has helped them out with research in the past. Just before the Covid-19 lockdown they were working on a new project (they had asked Mama to go to Europe to do some filming, but of course that didn't happen). They were looking into including a section on Machiavelli (and Martin Luther, who lived around the same time). I suggested that Mama read Benner's work.
So, just before lockdown, Mama stocked up on Machiavelli (and Luther) stuff from the library. Included in this was Benner's book,
Be Like the Fox: Machiavelli's Lifelong Quest for Freedom. When Mama finished with it, I took it to read. I finally finished it last week.
Be Like the Fox is an easy, readable, enjoyable book that non-specialists can understand without difficulty. Benner is a professional philosopher, but in
Fox she branches out and writes the biographical story of Machiavelli's life, intermingling the direct writings of Machiavelli and his contemporaries with her own storytelling.
At the time Florence, Machiavelli's hometown, was a rich but limited power, controlling just a few other cities around it (including Pisa). Florence was often caught in the middle between the great political/military powers of the area -- the Popes, France, Germany and Spain.
Fox is a fascinating and eye-opening introduction to the situation of the day, as the big powers were engaged in complex political and military arrangements, and all battling for control and power.
Machiavelli, who for many years worked as a mid-level advisor and diplomat, often traveled with the various courts to present Florence's case to the international political powers. He often had a front-row seat to the complex political manipulations, writing extensive notes on his observations. Thanks to his first-person observations, as well as his extensive readings of history, over time Machiavelli developed a thought-through account of what best works for political governance.
Frequently using Machiavelli's own words, Benner presents him as a decent, real person trying to do the best he could for his hometown, by advocating justice and rule of law in the face of tyrants (both at home and abroad) who were often in it merely for themselves.
Obviously this ethical and justice-seeking Machiavelli is very different from the Machiavellian realpolitik we are used to. So, the big question is, how is it that we can have two such vastly different and opposing readings of the same book?
The answer is that Machiavelli's readers in recent years haven't understood the social context in which he was writing. Earlier readers often got it, but for the past couple of hundred years most readers of
The Prince have simply assumed that he wrote directly what he meant. When modern readers encounter apparent contradictions in his writings, they tend to trust the big "Machiavellian" slogans as the real view, and view the awkward complications as best ignored.
But, we shouldn't do that. Not only should we not assume this of any writer, but we especially shouldn't assume it of Machiavelli.
A close reading shows us that in all probability in
The Prince Machiavelli often used irony -- that is, with multiple levels of meaning pitched to different audiences. He was not writing directly what he meant. Given that Machiavelli was an experienced diplomat, as well as a popular satirical playwright, this should really be no surprise to any sophisticated/knowledgeable reader.
Quoting from the interview with Benner linked above:
3:AM: So how come few people recognized the irony?
EB: Lots of early readers did. Up to the second half of 18th century some of Machiavelli’s most intelligent readers – philosophers like Francis Bacon and Spinoza and Rousseau – read him as a thinker who wanted to uphold high moral standards. They thought he wrote ironically to expose the cynical methods politicians use to seize power, while only seeming to recommend them. Which doesn’t mean they thought he was writing pure satire, a send-up of political corruption. He had constructive aims too: to train people to see through plausible-sounding excuses and good appearances in politics, and think harder about the spiralling consequences of actions that seem good at the time.
... Then during the Napoleonic Wars, amoral realist readings started to drive out rival interpretations. German philosophers like Fichte and Hegel invoked Machiavelli as an early champion of national unification, if necessary by means of blood and iron. Italian nationalists of the left and right soon followed. Since then, almost everyone has read Machiavelli through some sort of national-ends-justify-amoral-means prism.
That is, in part,
The Prince was Machiavelli's teaching textbook for his younger friends and acquaintances. It was to train them on how to read well and think clearly, and not get tricked by others' political smooth-talking. (Another part was to attract the attention of the political leaders -- to help get him a job as advisor, but without offending too much those he was criticising.)
In
The Prince, one common technique Machiavelli used was to give the grand amoral "Machiavellian" statement, with some reasons. Reasons are often via examples from history, highly praising leaders who acted in "Machiavellian"ways.
But skilled readers will see that these reasons are actually quite weak and give very little support for the grand statement. Those who take the time to examine the actual histories, as well as Machiavelli's more subtle comments, will see that the deeds did not match the words and actually Machiavelli is challenging them to think more carefully and to evaluate for themselves the complex situations.
This technique was common and familiar. Ancient Greek and Roman writers used it frequently, and Machiavelli's contemporaries would have been very familiar with it. Machiavelli names and references these ancient writers who use this technique.
Regarding Machiavelli's substantive political position, he was pushing his readers to see that a "Machiavellian" approach may sometimes, with luck, work in the short term but it is not a prudent approach for longer-term governance. For Machiavelli, long-term leadership and stability requires justice and rule of law.
Presumably over time fewer and fewer people knew, or took the time to learn, the history of Machiavelli's case-study examples -- they focused more on the simple, grand surface statements and didn't look beyond. They missed his political point, as well as his teaching lesson.
So, next time you happen to be relaxing with Niccolo Machiavelli's
The Prince (as I'm sure you often do!), think carefully and read carefully. Don't be satisfied with the grand "Machiavellian" slogans -- that's merely the surface-level stuff. Don't skip the examples and details -- that's actually where the important stuff is contained.
