August 3, 2007
Niccolo Machiavelli’s innocence
People at work paused and looked at me strangely when they came to my office and saw Machiavelli on my desk. I shrugged and smiled, but the damage was done. They made strange jokes about my rising the ranks and being too intellectual for my job. What could I say? I would really sound the fascist if I argued that Nic (do you think his friends called him Nic…?) isn’t really that bad. So he has a few choice and bloody examples, but for the most part warns against those routes. Pop-culture mythology suggests a “machiavellian” ruler is one who’ll stop at nothing to keep his power, who’ll do anything, who’ll bisect any minister if it will send a message to the people. The Machiavellian listens to the devil, after all.
I’ve learned otherwise. The Machiavellian criticizes the Pope and Church and its model of rulership, considers religion a valuable tool both for shoring up power and for motivating people. I’m sure the Pope thought Nic was listening to the devil when he read that section of the book. The Machiavellian doesn’t fall for flattery, stands on his own two feet without the help of others, knows when to ask for and take advice, pays discrete attention to the world, the changes of fortune and the strengths and weaknesses of his subjects and of his enemies. He makes choices drawn from keen observance of his surroundings. In many ways, he is a political warrior.
The Machiavellian, if you could give such a name to Nic’s ideal ruler, is popular because of an appearance of goodness, devoutness, and affection for his people, nobles, and armies. He employs thoughtful benefits and equally well-thought-out punishments, is predictable to his people and unpredictable to his enemies. He is fair, just, and measures all actions against the health of his dominion. He will do what must be done to save his domain from ruin, even if that means cruel actions, but always ensure a minister does the dirty work. He is half pirate captain, accepting no mutiny, and half knight, inspired by ideals.
Some people say Niccolo Machiavelli displayed shocking pragmatism. His tell-it-like-it-is style is unhampered by conventional morality or ethics. In this he is very modern, and his notes on politics show that the same practises which, though decried by the liberal media, are employed by our own politicians in a consistent mirror of historical politics.
But what is not modern, is the innocence and optimism in his words. He believes the populace will never be deceived by evil or incompetent men. He argues that the mob is thoughtful, knowledgeable, and discerning. He argues that the people will always see through the ruse.
Oh if only he could see a history of the 20th century. If only he could see Fox News. Would he still have faith in the people, upon seeing the results of democracy and the multimedia mass opiate? What would he think of the people who text their lives away?
It was his innocence that marked him as a man of the Renaissance, his trust in (Italian) humanity, his sentimentality about his homeland and his honest faith that the good in mankind will win out (especially if man takes matters from God’s hands, into his own).
Zakira's Roses 