The Discourses

Machiavelli offers the manuscript as a gift to two gentlemen who have urged him to write it. Machiavelli suggests that the work may turn out to be inadequate: “Take this, therefore, in the way in which all things are taken from friends, where one gives greater consideration to the intentions of the sender than to the quality of the gift being sent” (13). 

The author presents his book to Italians who know of Livy’s history of the Roman Republic but who either have not read it or do not fully understand it and therefore miss out on the opportunity to use the Roman example and create better government in the present. Machiavelli blames religion for some of this failure. He promises to give perspective to Livy’s work. 

For the print edition, Machiavelli similarly offers his book to those who may admire the ancient Roman Republic but are unable or unwilling to follow its practices. In this Preface, the author blames, not religion, but education for overlooking the value of Livy’s work. The book will serve as a manual for organizing good government run by the citizenry, “so that those who will read these discourses of mine may more easily derive from them that practical knowledge one must seek from a familiarity with the histories” (18). 

When free men build a city for protection, it can become an exceptional place. When a ruler sends colonists to build a city in a new region, such a city can succeed but not attain greatness. When free men must begin a city in a barren region, this can toughen them but limit their ability to defend themselves, whereas a new city built in a fertile area will afford the means for growth and protection.

To prevent a successful city from breeding idleness, compulsory military training should be instituted. Such citizens become “better soldiers than men in those countries which were naturally harsh and barren” (21). Rome is founded by free men in a fertile area, yet the strictness of the citizens’ training is such that all the city’s civilizing benefits “were unable to corrupt it for centuries” (22). 

For a new city to emerge as a republic, or for an old city to enact reforms, it is best to have a great leader who hands down solid laws that stand the test of time.

There are three good forms of government and three bad. The good are principality, aristocracy, and democracy; the bad are their degraded versions, namely, tyranny, government of the few, and anarchy: “[E]ach of them is in a way similar to its counterpart, so that they all easily jump from one form to the other” (24).

At first the people choose a strong man to be prince. As problems arise and laws must be passed, the citizens become concerned with justice: “The result was that later when they had to elect a prince, they did not support the boldest but, instead, the man who was most prudent and just” (24). Still later, as succession becomes hereditary, the heirs become debauched, causing public resistance, so the rulers pass draconian laws; the result is tyranny. Citizens take up arms, remove the prince, and establish an aristocracy, but their sons, too, become degenerate and are overthrown, leading to democracy. This descends into license and anarchy, and the people, seeking a strong leader, return themselves to a principality. However, “no republic can be so full of life that it may pass through these mutations many times and remain standing” (26).

The solution is to combine the three forms of good government. The Roman Republic succeeds because it retains kingly power in the office of Consul, aristocratic power in the Senate, and democratic power in the tribunes of the common people. 

Machiavelli maintains that “all men are evil and that they will always act according to the wickedness of their nature whenever they have the opportunity” (29). After the Roman kings are overthrown, the nobility—which had treated the commoners well lest they join the kings against the aristocrats—now feel free to abuse the people. However, “after many disorders, disturbances, and the danger of disagreements that arose between the plebeians and the nobility,” tribunes are established to represent the plebeians at the senate; this serves to “curb the insolence of the nobles” (29). 

“The desires of free peoples are rarely harmful to liberty, because they arise either from oppression or from the suspicion that they will be oppressed” (30). For this reason, allowing the people to demonstrate in the streets, go on strike, or refuse to serve in the army until their grievances are addressed is beneficial to a state. During the first 300 years of Rome’s republic, despite periodic upwellings of social unrest, “the disturbances in Rome rarely led to exile and even more rarely to bloodshed” (30). 

The Romans put the plebeians in charge of safeguarding liberty: “No doubt, if we consider the goal of the nobles and that of the common people, we shall see in the former a strong desire to dominate and in the latter only the desire not to be dominated” (32), which suggests that the plebeians should guard their own liberty. However, the common people develop “restless minds” and agitate for increasingly more authority until their leaders finally overthrow the nobles, and the republic is lost. 

Venice develops a government ruled by a king and a senate. At first, all citizens are part of the government, but many outsiders move there. The newcomers don’t agitate for more power, and commoners are not part of the military:

There was no motive, because nothing of theirs had been taken away; there was no opportunity, because those who ruled kept them in check and did not use them in matters through which they might acquire authority (34).

Ancient Sparta, also governed by king and nobles, enjoys a long time of internal peace because there is “greater equality of property and less equality of rank, so that there was an equality of poverty there, and the plebeians were less ambitious” (35). As well, the king’s power against the nobles is bolstered by support from the commoners, who are part of the army; and outsiders are forbidden to settle there, keeping the city small and manageable.

Rome, however, permits both immigration and commoners in the army: “[T]his gave the plebeians strength and an increase in their numbers, as well as countless opportunities to create disturbances” (35). Instead, these traits help Rome to become an empire. Thus, “expansion is the poison of such republics” (36), and to survive they must be kept small. However, conditions change, and in time republics will likely expand and collapse. For this reason, the Roman system, though it loses its republicanism, at least maintains its size and greatness. 

During a food shortage, Coriolanus asks the Roman senate to keep the people hungry and thus reduce their power. To prevent an insurrection by the commoners, Coriolanus is put on trial and exiled. Otherwise, “anyone can judge how much evil would have befallen the Roman republic had he been put to death in a riot” (39). This shows “how useful and necessary it is for republics to provide through their laws a means of venting the anger the multitude feels toward an individual citizen” (39). 

Capitolinus and Camillus both behave heroically in the defense of Rome against the Gauls, but Capitolinus envies Camillus’s greater renown, so he spreads false accusations about Camillus among the plebeians, which causes public disturbances. Capitolinus is brought before the senate, where he is unable to back up his accusations and is jailed.

Machiavelli believes a republic must have a robust system of indictment against those who make false accusations. Ancient Rome does this well, whereas “in Florence the lack of such an institution caused much harm” (43). 

Romulus founds Rome, in part, by killing his brother: “[W]hile the act accuses him, the result excuses him” (45), as it leads to the formation of the first great republic.

Only one man can successfully start a republic: “[T]he many are not capable of instituting anything, being unable to recognize its goodness, because of the diversity of opinions that exist among them” (45). However, once formed, a single man cannot rule a republic: “[I]t endures when it remains a matter of concern to many and when it is the task of many to maintain it” (45). 

The most praiseworthy men are those who establish religions; next are those who found nations; then come the great military leaders, followed by men of letters. The worst men are those who destroy the things created by the great.

Unfortunately, most people tend to fall into the camps of the destroyers. If they were to read history, they would side with the praiseworthy instead. Caesar is falsely praised for creating an empire out of a republic, though many emperors who followed him were, themselves, praiseworthy, safe from harm “because their habits, the goodwill of the people, and the love of the senate defended them” (48). Bad emperors, on the other hand, tend to be assassinated. Good emperors often rise through adoption, while bad ones inherit the throne: “[W]hen the empire lapsed into hereditary succession, it came again to ruin” (49). 

After Romulus comes Numa, who organizes a Roman religion to improve the behavior of the citizens, to the point where “they feared breaking an oath more than breaking the laws, like people who respected the power of God more than that of men” (51). This is but one part of “how useful religion was in controlling the armies, in giving courage to the plebeians, in keeping men good, and in shaming the wicked” (51). The introduction of a dominant religion “produced good institutions, the good institutions created good fortune, and from good fortune arose the happy successes of their undertakings” (52). 

Leaders must uphold the religion on which their society is based, as “there can be no greater indication of the ruin of a state than to see a disregard for its divine worship” (54). In Italy, the Catholic church’s leaders have failed to uphold their own religion; thus, “because of the evil examples set by this court, this land has lost all piety and religion; this brings with it countless disadvantages and countless disorders” (55).

On the other hand, Machiavelli admires “the Swiss, who are today the only people who live, with respect to religion and military institutions, as the ancients did” (56). 

The city of Veii is conquered by Rome only after oracles predict that it will happen when the lake nearby overflows its banks. Inspired, the soldiers persevere through a tenth season and achieve victory. In this way, “the careful use of religion helped […] in the capture of that city” (57).

When a tribune proposes a law to limit the powers of the consuls, they respond by having the plebeians swear a solemn oath of fealty to the consuls: “[T]hrough fear of their religion the plebeians preferred to obey the consul rather than to believe the tribunes” (58). 

Omens are important to the Romans, who always consult soothsayers before undertaking “every important activity, either civil or military” (59). Sometimes the predictions are negative but the need for action is great, so the Romans “gave them a different meaning with such suitable words and methods that they did not appear to be doing so with any disrespect to religion” (59). 

When the Samnites, traditional enemies of Rome, face ultimate defeat, their leaders try to strengthen the soldiers’ resolve by having them swear a solemn oath to fight bravely. This effort fails to save them, but “they did not feel they had any other alternative” (61). 

It is hard enough for a people recently freed from long enslavement to maintain a liberty they have no experience in preserving. Harder still is protecting freedom against the former rulers, who want to retrieve their power. The safest solution is to kill them, lest they rise back.

A prince, considering what his people need, “will always discover that they want two things: first, to take revenge against those who were the cause of their being enslaved, and second, to regain their liberty” (64). He must, to begin with, either kill or buy off his enemies; if he cannot assure the people’s freedom, he can at least give them what they really desire, which is security. This he does by establishing laws that he never breaks. 

In early Rome, the Tarquin kings are done away with, and the Roman Republic thrives. Later, after Caesar’s line is extinguished with the death of Nero, Rome remains under tyranny: “Such dissimilar results in the same city arose from nothing other than the fact that in the time of the Tarquins the Roman people were still uncorrupted, while in those later times they were extremely corrupt” (66), having been divided into factions under Marius. Thereafter, “Caesar was able to blind the multitude so that they did not recognize the yoke that they themselves were placing upon their own necks” (66).

A corrupted people cannot renew themselves, unless this “occurs through the exceptional ability of a single man” (67). Even then, “as soon as that man is dead the city returns to its former habits” (67). This is because it takes longer than one man’s life to remove endemic corruption. 

Once Rome has conquered all its neighbors, its people begin to feel secure, and, “in granting the consulate, to take charm rather than ability into consideration” (69). Soon, “good men […] remained completely excluded from such offices,” and “only the powerful proposed laws, not in the name of a common freedom but for the benefit of their own authority” (69).

Attempts to reform corrupt governments bit by bit are usually doomed, and attempts to reform them all at once through violence are rarely taken by good men: “[E]qually rarely will an evil man who has become prince wish to govern well” (70). 

Machiavelli points to warrior-king David, who bequeaths his nation to son Solomon, who rules peacefully and is followed by another peaceful prince, Rehoboam, who loses most of the country. By contrast, Turkish Sultan Mahomed conquers much of the Middle East and is followed by his relatively peaceful son Bajazet, who, in turn, is followed by the warlike Selim, who continues Mahomed’s conquests: “[W]eak princes are those who are not engaged in preparing for war” (72).

Romulus, the first Roman king, is warlike, whereas Muma, who follows, rules peacefully. The third king, Tullus, seems peaceful at first, but, when attacked by the Latins, conquers them. 

Whereas “two continuous successions of able princes, such as Philip of Macedonia and Alexander the Great, are sufficient to conquer the world,” a republic’s ability to generate a continuing succession of great men “ought to be able to accomplish even more” (73). 

A great city, either a republic or principality, ought always to have men under arms. After 40 years of peace, Tullus becomes Roman king but “did not find a single man who had ever been to war” (74), and so he must re-establish the military before leading them to victory. The leaders of Thebes free their people from Sparta, then make them into warriors who conquer the Spartans. 

Rome and Alba decide their mutual fate on a battle between three of each city’s best warriors. Rome wins, and the Alban king Mettius promises fealty but betrays Rome during the battle against the Veientes. For this he is executed. Machiavelli suggests that “one must never believe that any king or people would ever remain satisfied when three of their citizens have left them in servitude” (75). 

Passes are hard to defend because they are in mountainous territory, which is difficult to live in, and because only a limited number of troops can defend them, and finally because the approaching enemy can find another pass through which to invade. France does exactly this in 1515, when Swiss troops protecting Milan guard one set of passes while French forces enter through another. 

Horatius emerges victorious in the three-on-three contest against Alba and thus becomes a Roman hero, but later he kills his own sister for her allegiance to her husband, an Alban who had died in the same battle: “The merits of Horatius were very great, since with his skill he had overcome the Curiatii; his offence was atrocious, since he murdered his sister” (79). He is put on trial but absolved on account of his greatness in protecting Rome. Machiavelli disapproves:

[N]o well-organized republic ever cancels the demerits of its citizens with their merits […] after rewarding a man for having acted well, if that same individual later acts badly it punishes him without any regard whatsoever for his good deeds (79).

Otherwise, heroes “will be able to undertake without fear of punishment some action that is not good” (79). 

When Rome replaces kings with consuls, they maintain a sense of continuity by having the consuls perform the same religious rituals as did the kings. This continuity should pertain wherever possible; for example, “if the number, authority, and terms of office of the magistracies differ from those of the ancient ones, they should at least retain their titles” (80). 

A new ruler must change everything to strip a society of its old lines of command:

[I]n the cities he must create new governments with new names, new authorities, and new men; he must make the rich poor and the poor rich […] he must build new cities, destroy those already built, move the inhabitants from one place to another, and, in short, leave nothing in that province intact, no rank, order, position, or wealth (81). 

Pope Julius II travels to Perugia in 1505 to expel its usurper, Giovampagolo Baglioni. He enters the city unarmed and personally arrests Baglioni. Why did Baglioni, known for his wickedness, not simply have the pope arrested, or worse? Machiavelli concludes that “men clearly do not know how to be honorably bad or perfectly good, and that when an evil deed contains in itself some grandeur or some generosity, they do not know how to carry it out” (82). 

During the height of the Roman Republic, “the city was never deprived of its liberty by any of its citizens, so that there was no great reason to suspect them or, consequently, to offend them in a thoughtless way” (83).

This is not true in Athens, where Pisistratus rises up and takes over the city, which, having later regained its freedom, “became a most ready avenger not only of the errors but even of the appearance of errors on the part of its citizens” (83). Thus, “once it has recovered its liberty, a people bites more ferociously than when it has only managed to preserve it” (83). Had Rome suffered the same indignity as Athens, it, too, would thereafter have treated its own citizens with ongoing suspicion. 

When a military commander achieves great victories, his prince may become suspicious, fearing the commander may wish to take the prince’s place. The prince “considers either having him executed or taking away the reputation he has acquired” (84). The citizens of a republic are much less likely to treat their heroes this way, since “the people never display it out of avarice” (86). 

Princes can avoid the problem of envying their military commanders simply by leading the armies themselves. Commanders can avoid the problem of being undone by their victories either by returning to the capital and submitting humbly to the prince or, to the contrary, by building up their popularity among the people and the army.

Republics avoid these problems by following the example of the Roman Republic, which encourages citizens to commit so many valorous deeds that no single hero can amass too much power. Likewise, heroes rarely display ambition, lest they make the people suspicious.