After five hundred years, Niccolo Machiavelli the man has ceased to exist.  In his place is merely an entity, one that is human, but also something that is far above one.  The debate over his political ideologies and theories has elevated him to a mythical status summed up in one word: Machiavelli.  His family name has evolved into an adjective in the English language in its various forms.  Writers and pundit’s bandy about this new adjective in such ways as, “He is a Machiavelli,” “They are Machiavelli’s,” “This is suitable for a Machiavelli.”  These phrases are almost always the words of a person that understands more about Niccolo’s reputation than the man himself.  Forgotten is that Machiavelli is not an adequate example of the ruler he is credited with describing; a more accurate statement would be to call someone a “Borgia” or a “Valentino.” Most of the time they are grossly mistaken in their references.  All these words accomplish is to add to the legend, and the misinterpretation, of the true nature of Niccolo Machiavelli. 

            In recent history, the last fifty years or so, modern businessmen and politicians have given Machiavelli a Renaissance of his own.  Professional politicians like Sen. Gary Hart and Clinton political consultant Dick Morris have written novels they claim to be on the same philosophical level of Machiavelli’s The Prince.  Hart, in his book The Patriot: An Exhortation to Liberate America From the Barbarians attempts to update Niccolo to the modern age with his own political philosophies, and attempts to credit Machiavelli by quoting him frequently.  “Hart makes an effort to mimic the form, if not the spirit, of the most famous work by his Florentine ‘mentor.’…There is a dedicatory letter, comparable to Machiavelli’s astoundingly, cynically obsequious dedication to Lorenzo de Medici, ruler of Florence…in which he exhorts an unnamed (and, one assumes, fictitious) ‘leader’ to take up the banner that Hart himself was forced…to abandon.  It is telling that, unlike Machiavelli, Hart makes the fictive claim that his tome has been requested of him by the dedicatee; this may help explain the supreme confidence, bordering on arrogance, that pervades The Patriot.”  (Anton, 5/27/96)

Morris, in his The New Prince, displays his own political ideologies and talks about his experience in the Clinton White House for examples of Machiavellian behavior.  “Morris’s book is all about Bill Clinton, and not incidentally about himself.”  (Emery, 7/26/99)  Despite his high political standing, he is not qualified to become Machiavelli’s torchbearer in the twenty-first century.  “The book does not deserve actual comparison with ‘The Prince.’ Suffice it so say the Machiavelli is entertaining to read and offers both wisdom and heart along with his steely advice – all beyond Morris’ reach.” (Turner, 7/20/99)

Hart’s and Morris’ novels border on arrogance and pomposity.  Both men forget that the basis of The Prince was rooted in classical historical examples, and neither provides any to supplement their arguments. 

            Perhaps the worst offender to Machiavelli, however, has been the American media.  Journalists have fallen in love with comparing prominent figures to Machiavelli, not realizing that by describing someone as a Machiavelli is really saying they are an out of work diplomat stuck on a farm away from the city.  Ideally, that is probably not the picture they wanted to paint about their subject.  Their comparisons are always of successful individuals, politicians, business people, and sports figures for the most part.  Names thrown about as Machiavellian, for example, are Bill Gates, Rupert Murdoch, Pat Robertson, British Prime Minister Tony Blair, Nelson Mandela, Donald Trump, and football coach Bill Parcells. 

            The common thread amongst these men is their rise to the pinnacle of their realms.  Gates, Trump, and Murdoch are consummate capitalists and notorious tough businessmen.  Blair, Mandela, and Robertson are chieftains of their individual sects, in England, South Africa, and the American Christian community respectively.  Parcells is a legendary coach with a legendary temper, and his reputation as Machiavellian grows with each passing press conference.   An important overall point about the media tag of Machiavellian is that the connotation is usually negative when applied to a politician, and usually positive when used toward a business or sports figure.  In Machiavelli’s time, the major business figures also constituted the political power, such as in the Medici family.  The Prince was not meant for anyone but those in political power, yet today it has a wide-ranging definition and interpretation to encompass anyone in any sort of position of authority.  The growing definition has allowed misinterpretation to flourish, not so much as a direct fault of the writer, but rather the subject does not fit into Machiavelli’s initial description. 

            Interestingly, one public figure has had his Machiavellian definition change frequently during his time in the spotlight: President Bill Clinton.  Morris’ book notwithstanding, journalists have flip-flopped in their definitions of him depending on the prevailing political issue of the moment.  In 1995, he was “precisely the opposite of Machiavelli’s ideal Prince in every regard.”  (Barone, 9/18/95)  The critics said his desire to be loved by the American people would not be approved by Machiavelli, because of the line “…men are less hesitant about harming someone who makes himself feared because love is held together by a chain of obligation which, since men are a sorry lot, is broken on every occasion in which their own self-interest is concerned; but fear is held together by a dread of punishment which will never abandon you.” (The Prince, 131)  This could be why Clinton is such an inviting target for independent prosecutors and investigative reporters. 

            By 1998, however, while Clinton rode an unprecedented wave of popularity, journalists praised his success in the Middle East peace talks and called him the Comeback Kid.  “Whether you love Clinton or hate him, you have to admire his adeptness.  He could even teach old Machiavelli a few lessons.”  (Page, 10/25/98)  His tide reached its crest in the middle of the following year, when his negative press returned and he was described as one of Machiavelli’s “indolent princes.”  A favorite quote from that period came from the Art of War. Like Clinton, “…out Italian princes believed that a prince need only know how to dream up witty replies in his study; write a beautiful letter; display intelligence and readiness in his conversation and his speech; weave a fraud; adorn himself with gems and gold; sleep and eat in a more splendid style than others; surround himself with a large of courtesans…” (Art of War, 515) 

            Clinton’s critics found humor and eerie relevance in attributing this quote to the president.  “No better description of Bill Clinton has ever been written, and no one, before or since, has so brilliantly exposed the connection between such leader’s self-indulgence and their inability to craft effective strategy,” wrote Michael Ledeen, author of Machiavelli on Modern Leadership: Why Machiavelli’s Iron Rules Are as Timely and Important Today as Five Centuries Ago. (Ledeen, 4/29/99) 

            While Ledeen’s harsh criticism may seem fitting, Bill Clinton cannot be the true indolent Prince that Machiavelli wrote of.  The definition was molded to fit the president as a means of taking a cheap shot at his apparent lax moral attitude.  The critics are yet another example of how Machiavelli’s words can be fitted to meet the agendas of particular groups and further muddy the waters of Machiavelli’s original statements.

            Fortunately, not all that is written concerning Machiavelli today falls into the realm of stretched definitions and imperfect examples.  Two books, one being Ledeen’s, published within the last year portray the opposite ends of the “Machiavelli Spectrum.”  Each book’s premise is the translation of Machiavelli into the modern age; but one has the added support of being written by a man that knows more about Niccolo then just what the history books say. 

            Ledeen, a former advisor to President Reagan and part of the American Enterprise Institute, a Washington D.C. public policy think-tank, wrote his book from a serious, scholarly, perspective.  What makes Ledeen’s book a more accurate representation of Machiavelli’s original work is that he relies on examples from the American history to outline his translation of The Prince into our modern generation.  “To Machiavelli and to Ledeen, strength is the true bedrock of leadership, the bringer of order and liberty, peace and stability.  Strength can be badly misused by evil individuals; but the best intentions in the world will be meaningless in its absence: a simple idea readily grasped by Washington, Hamilton, Lincoln, both of the Roosevelts, Truman, Eisenhower, John Kennedy, Robert Kennedy, and Ronald Reagan.” (Emery, 7/26/99) 

            Inhabiting the other end of the spectrum is Stanley Bing, a.k.a. Gil Schwartz, whose book, What would Machiavelli Do?, is a satirical look at big business and the daily acts of Machiavellian practices that occur in corporate America.  Schwartz is a CBS public relations executive by day, but he writes a column for Fortune magazine under the pen name Stanley Bing.  His experiences at CBS provide fodder for his Machiavelli satire, even if the examples do not fit with the original ideas of the Florentine Gentleman.  “What Would Machiavelli Do? is a compendium of mean-spirited, macho-man advice about mastering corporate rivals while attaining true id-gratifying satisfaction in the workplace.  Here’s a side-splitting example: ‘Lying. Manipulation.  Displays of false anger.  Displays of real anger.  Threats.  Blandishments.  Cruelty.  Gross abuse of loyalty - all these tactics and more represent the kind of thinking that should be made available to all levels of management, not just the big guys.’”  (Zimmerman, 3/27/00)

            Bing’s book describes a kind of corporate free-for-all in which the person that takes the most risks and acts most ambitiously comes out a winner in the end.  The problem with that assessment is that it does not take into account an important part of Machiavelli’s contingencies about gaining and preserving power.  Machiavelli knew that an effective ruler had to have the support of the people to maintain power.  That is why Cesare Borgia had the minister in Romagna, Remirro de Orco, executed publicly.  The execution acted as a reaffirmation of his devotion to the people of Romagna, when in actuality it was a measure of public relations for Borgia’s reign of which de Orco became a victim.

 

            “And because he realized that the rigorous measures of the past had generated a certain amount of hatred, he wanted to show, in order to purge men’s minds and to win them to his side completely, that if any form of cruelty had arisen, it did not originate from him but from the harsh nature of his minister…one morning, he had Messer Remirro placed on the piazza in two pieces with a block of wood and a bloody sword beside him.  The ferocity of such a spectacle left those people satisfied and amazed at the same time.”   (The Prince, 99-100)

 

            The princes described by Bing in his book took no such pains to be that indiscreet with their ruthless way.  He describes executives fired over lunch breaks and crooked real estate deals to illustrate Machiavellian tactics, but those examples do not quite fit the original intentions of The Prince.  Consider his example of Machiavellian discipline: “The Machiavellian leader sends a very clear message to his or her troops.  Do good.  Or be humiliated.  There are two parts to this: Kicking ass.  Taking names.”  (Ottawa Citizen 1/8/200) The problem with Bing’s analysis is that is does not take into the account the sacrifices the Prince (in this situation, the CEO) must make in order to instill discipline in their troops.  A prince has to motivate, but he also has to teach and set a good example in order to build and maintain a reliable force. 

            “Philopoemen, Prince of the Achaeans, among the other praises given to him by writers, is praised because in peacetime he thought of nothing except the means of waging war; and when he was out in the country with his friends, he often stopped and reasoned with them…And he proposed to them, as they rode along, all the contingencies that can occur in an army; he heard their arguments; so that, because of these continuous deliberations, when leading his troops no unforeseen incident could arise for which he did not have a remedy.”  (The Prince, 125)  Bing’s prince, on the other hand, does not lead by example, but expects ruthlessness and fear to keep their troops in line.  Machiavelli agrees it is better to be feared than loved, but he also knew the value of quality leadership versus totalitarianism. 

            Not all of what has been written has been off base about the true nature of Niccolo Machiavelli.  As his words have been reinterpreted throughout the centuries, a reemphasis on his original words has developed.  Questions are cropping up about the reasoning behind the composition of works such as The Prince, especially whether or not Niccolo believed completely in what he wrote.  “The man whose surname gave the word Machiavellian to the English language is now no longer regarded as Machiavellian himself.  Indeed his only mistake may yet turn out to be shoe-shining someone who could possibly give him a new job.”  (Manuel, 2/26/99)  For most scholars and some journalists, the man Machiavelli was and his life at the time are important clues to investigate into his mindset and possible agenda for writing such a controversial piece.  Bruce Douglass, a government professor at Georgetown University, said in January 1999, “I think Machiavelli says nothing he disbelieved but [The Prince] isn’t a full statement of his beliefs.  It’s a very sober, realistic, and even cynical book, but it’s all in the genre of advice.  He’s saying to the intended audience for the work, ‘Here’s what you need to do to get and keep power.’ If I tell you there are a lot of hard things you need to do to get power, I don’t think that’s negative, it’s just realistic.”  (Curry, 1/13/99) 

            The deviations in the interpretations of The Prince and Machiavelli as a man have come after 500 years of conflict over the true meaning of his words.  The twenty-first century poses the opportunity of extending interpretations as technological advancements such as the Internet redefine society.  The dangerous part is that as Machiavelli’s words influence a new generation, the possibility of serious misinterpretations increases as well.  And more books like Hart’s, Morris’, and Bing’s will be written, new people will redefine the term Machiavellian, and the initial ideals of Niccolo Machiavelli will become more convoluted with the arrival of the new century. 

 

 

Works Cited

 

Monson, M. (1993, September 16). Urbana firm obstacle to office project. The

Champaign-Urbana News-Gazette, pp. 1,8.

 

Anton, Michael. (1996, May 27). Gary Machiavelli.  The Weekly Standard, p.35.

 

Barone, Michael. (1995, September 18).  Bill, meet Niccolo.  U.S. News & World Report, p. 59.

 

Curry, Andrew. (1999, January 13). Political Morality?  Machiavelli Encouraged a Flexible Approach Five Centuries Ago.  The Washington Post, p. H01.

Emery, Noemie.  (1999, July 26).  Prince or Pollster?  National Review. 

 

Leeden, Michael.  (1999, April 29). Failed Leaders, False Wars; Kosovo: Clinton is One of Machiavelli’s ‘Indolent Princes,’ Whose Motivation is the Photo Op, Not Military Virture.  Los Angeles Times, p. B9. 

 

Machiavelli, Niccolo. (1521) The Art of War.  In Peter Bondanella’s and Mark Musa’s (eds) The Portable Machiavelli. (pp. 480-517)  New York, New York: Penguin Books. 

 

Machiavelli, Nicolo (1532)  The Prince.  In Peter Bondanella’s and Mark Musa’s (eds) The Portable Machiavelli. (pp. 77-166)  New York, New York: Penguin Books. 

 

Manuel, Gren.  (1999, February 26).  Machiavelli just misunderstood.  South China Morning Post. 

 

W.W.J.O.B.O.M.D?: (What Would Jesus or Buddha or Machiavelli Do?) (2000, January 8)  The Ottawa Citizen, p. B7. 

 

Page, Clarence.  (1998, October 25).  Bill Clinton can teach Machiavelli a thing or two.  The Houston Chronicle, p. 3. 

 

Turner, Robert L. (1999, July 20).  A cynical look at American politics; Book Review; The New Prince; by Dick Morris.  The Boston Globe, p. E3.

 

Zimmerman, Martin.  (2000, March 27).  Raw power, weak humor.  The Seattle Times, p. E3.