Post-discussion reflections on Machiavelli

I quite enjoyed the ongoing 'virtù v. fortuna' thread from our class discussion the other night. I think PTJ's question of how one spots a virtù-ous man is key to our understanding of what Machiavelli actually means by virtù. A couple of thoughts:

• I think Machiavelli would argue that a virtù-ous man, first and foremost (as Jesse briefly touched on toward the end of the discussion), must seize those opportunities that are given to him by fortuna with great strength of purpose. This is the first act of virtù-ousness. Take Machiavelli's example of Moses (p. 18-20). He clearly views Moses as a virtù-ous man for having seized the opportunity, presented by God, to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Notice, however, that this is the only case in which Machiavelli refers to Moses as virtù-ous. This has partly to do with the fact that Moses is the leader, and not the ruler/prince, of the Israelites (not to mention that they don't have territory). More importantly, though, Moses exhibits some fairly un-virtù-ous qualities before and during his leadership of the Exodus (i.e. fear, lack of speaking ability, lack of the ability to gain control of the Israelites, lack of ability to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land). To my mind, this speaks to the fundamental importance of strongly seizing one's opportunity.

• I don't think that virtù is incumbent upon ultimate success/achievement of one's goals, but I think that there has to be at least a moderate track record of success. I don't think that one would be able to evaluate the strength of purpose, manliness, etc. that a man exhibits without some sort of history of success from which to draw. Borgia achieved and maintained some power for a while, and exercised it in a virtù-ous manner. Again, I refer to Moses. He was successful in bringing the Israelites out of Egypt, but was unable to take them into the Promised Land; and yet Machiavelli ascribes to him virtù. So, then, how much success is virtù-ous?

• I also think that, for Machiavelli, an eye toward glory is a key ingredient of a virtù-ous man. Machiavelli positively gushes about those men about whom (and with whom (p. 3)) he has read. He seems to say that all these men (his examples) will be remembered not only because they were great, but because they wanted glory. This, I think, is what Machiavelli views as the goal of the virtù-ous man--to be remembered by future men as those who upheld the qualities of virtù. This idea begs the question that, if glory is the goal of a virtù-ous man, what exactly is 'glory' for Machiavelli? Does it equate to fame? Remembrance? Success (Would he say that Borgia achieved 'glory'?)?

A final question that rumbles around my mind is: Does one have to exhibit all of the aspects of virtù in order to be virtù-ous? In thinking of Moses, someone Machiavelli calls virtù-ous, one would be inclined to say no.

Thoughts on Machiavelli

Forgive my tardiness. I have been trying to sift through my thoughts and create a (marginally) longer post on one thing, but I decided, instead, just to run with a few different (shorter) observations. Hopefully they form some sort of coherent thought process.

• I, like Elizabeth, thoroughly appreciated Wootten's inclusion of [virtù] in the translated text. It was quite interesting to see the different ways in which the word was translated, and perhaps even more interesting to find that what we consider 'virtue' today was not one of those ways.I think Wootten's inclusion of [virtù] also gives insight into what seem to me the primary theme of The Prince: the acquisition and maintenance of power/leadership in its various forms.

• The Augustinian view of the depravity of man, as PTJ alluded to in his lecturelet, is ever-present in both of Machiavelli's works. If man were intrinsically good, there would be little need for the harsh measures which Machiavelli prescribes. That this is the assumption under which Machiavelli works becomes particularly apparent when he discusses the characteristics a prince should possess ( i.e. miserliness, cruelty well-used, cunning, etc). His discussion of whether it is better to be feared or loved also assumes that men are not good/intelligent enough to know whom it is proper to love (and therefore obey). He argues, then, that fear is the only proper way to get men to submit.

I conclude, then, that, as far as being feared and loved is concerned, since men decide for themselves whom they love, and rulers decide whom they fear, a wise ruler should rely on the emotion he can control, not one he cannot. (p. 53)

• Machiavelli's view of religion seems, to me, to be that it is a somewhat lamentable reality. He seems to argue that it is an intellectually inferior exercise, and that the populace, intellectually dim as they are, can easily be swayed by a religious argument (p. 119-121). Though there will definitely be a dispute over the intellectual fortitude of religion, the idea that the public can be swayed by religious argument seems vaguely familiar to our modern sensibilities, particularly with the idea of American "religious nationalism."

• I would argue, like Mike, that Machiavelli is more political scientist than political philosopher, though he is neither one nor the other exclusively. He takes historical examples and observes the consequences of specific regimes. Methodologically, this seems, to me, to tend more toward political science. More apropos of PTJ's lecturelet, though, is the idea that Machiavelli is much more concerned with the concepts of power and efficiency than justice and reason. In the style of Thucydides' Melian Dialogue and the Mytilenian Debate, Machiavelli's chief concern is the interest of the ruler.

• Chapter 6 (p. 18-20) of The Prince provides an interesting narrative about how the greatest men have risen to power based on their strength of purpose, but, more importantly, on the specific opportunity that fortune gave them. The question that came to my mind was that, if fortune had not presented a particular opportunity, would the great leaders have remained inconspicuous? Do all great leaders owe their greatness, in part, to a particular opportunity afforded by fortune?

Thucydides discussion response

I thought Prof. Jackson's question of whether The History of the Peloponnesian War would be as relevant to IR discussions today if it had begun, "Once upon a time..." was an interesting one. If Thucydides had not set up his project in the introduction, and instead just began with a brief introduction to set up where the narrative would go (even including that he intended to write a work for all time), I think we would have a decidedly different work from a scholarly perspective. Yes, many of the Truths would remain, and many of the same lessons could be applied, but I don't think it would have had the foundational impact that it has actually had on IR as a field.

Without the elaboration of the Thucydidean project (to write an historical account of the Peloponnesian war, to stick as closely to the facts as possible, and to eschew, as far as it is possible, myth and popularization of the story), I think The History of the Peloponnesian War would have been more likely to be viewed (and subsequently taught) as a work of literature in the same way that Homer (The Iliad) and Shakespeare (The history plays) are. Without the Thucydidean project, the work would probably be examined much more as a narrative work. It would still be useful in IR for its analysis of power, alliances, and proper governance (sort of like Paul Kennedy's The Rise and Fall of Great Powers is useful as an analytic narrative), but I really do believe that it would have been viewed differently by IR scholars.

What if Homer had set up a Thucydidean program in an introduction to The Iliad? One could certainly gain some IR insight from the work as it is currently written, but would it have become an 'IR work' (By 'IR work' I mean a work which is an established reference point in the intellectual history of IR)? I don't mean to say that Thucydides and Homer are interchangable--with similar narratives and/or lessons to be gleaned, but I think it is a mostly valid comparison.

So what does this mean? Does this mean that the applicability of Thucydides’ History would be null and void if it began, “Once upon a time…”? I think that the applicability would, in some senses, remain, but the lens through which scholars (of many different fields) view the work would be quite different.