TO some extent, Machiavelli’s concluding remarks are that of an Italian patriot, but given his belief that the ends justify the means it is doubtful whether he is capable of remaining loyal to anything. One of the first contentions in this final section, is that in order for his country to

discover the virtue of an Italian spirit, it was necessary that Italy should be reduced to the conditions that she is now in, that she should be more enslaved than the Hebrews, more oppressed than the Persians, more scattered than the Athenians, without a head, without order, beaten, exploited, torn, invaded, and suffering every kind of ill fortune.

It is certainly true that suffering often brings out the best in people, just as luxury and contentment often leads to complacency and indifference.

Machiavelli’s view of sixteenth-century Italy is rather pessimistic, insisting that the Italians seem to be waiting for God to liberate them or perhaps for someone else to raise a flag and march to their defence. In relation to the former, especially, he lampoons the God-fearing apathy of his Christian counterparts by remarking

how extraordinary the ways of God have been shown to be, beyond example: the sea is divided, a cloud has led the way, the rock has poured forth water, it has rained food from heaven. Everything has contributed to your greatness, you ought to do the rest. God is not willing to do everything, and thus take away our free will and that share of glory which belongs to us.

The Italians themselves, he continues, are a very tough and resilient people, particularly when it comes to displaying their individual prowess as fighters, but their militaristic abilities are sorely lacking in a more collective sense:

This is entirely the result of poor leadership. Those who are capable are not obeyed. Each one thinks they are capable, but none stands out above the rest, either in courage or fortune. Hence for so long a time, and during so much fighting in the past twenty years, whenever there has been a wholly Italian army, it has always performed badly. The first example of this is Il Taro, and then there are Allesandria, Capua, Genoa, Vaila, Bologna, Mestri.

Ironically, he tells us, whilst Italian soldiers are disorganised those who often have more disciplined armies – the Swiss, the French, the Spaniards and the Germans – have shortcomings of their own and, given the right attitude and leadership, these weaknesses can be exploited:

It is possible, therefore, knowing the weaknesses of these soldiers, to invent a new army, which will resist attacks by horse soldiers and not be afraid of foot soldiers. This need not create a new order of arms, but may simply be a variation upon the old. These are the kinds of improvements which confer reputation and power upon a new prince.

In other words, this strategy is far superior to that of waiting for salvation to come out of the blue. The prince that seeks to revive the old Italian spirit would soon command the respect and admiration of his fellow countrymen:

What door would be closed to him? Who would refuse obedience to him? What envy would hinder him? What Italian would refuse him to honour him? To all of us this present situation is unbearable. Let, therefore, your great family take up this task with that courage and hope with which all just causes are undertaken, so that under its flag our native country may be made great again, and under your command that saying of Petrarch will be shown to be true:

Virtue against fury shall advance the fight

And in the battle soon shall put to flight

For the old Roman courage is not dead

And still burns in the Italians’ hearts.

Thus ends Machiavelli’s treatise on the ruthless survivalist techniques which he believes must be adopted by any prospective head of state.

In closing, Frederick reminds us that we have

seen in this work the falseness of the reasoning by which Machiavel claimed to give us the keys to change, by presenting to us degenerates – plain criminals – who know well how to wear the masks of great men.

Whilst the German concludes his summary of Il Principe at some length, it is nonetheless interesting in that it provides a fascinating summary of the work itself. Inevitably, therefore, Frederick’s tone becomes increasingly critical:

The prince’s foreign Ministers and diplomats are privileged spies, who take care to influence or even control the sovereigns to whom they are sent. They must penetrate the foreign ruler’s intentions, look further into their steps, and envisage their actions in order to inform their Masters of them in time. The principal object of their mission is to reinforce the links of good will between the sovereigns; but instead of being the peacemakers, they are often the agents of war. They employ the flattery, tricks and seductions, to tear off the secrecies of the State they are in to their fellow ministers at home: they win the weak ones over by their statements, the proud ones by words that soothe, and the interested parties by their gifts.

The alternative, he argues, is just rule and that can only happen if the prince surrounds himself with honest and reliable people. Rather than adopt a cut-throat attitude to everyone, either at home or abroad, a ruler and his closest advisers should seek to extend their use of alliances, pacts and treaties:

It is a general rule that a prince should choose the spirits that are of a more refined character for employment in difficult negotiations. He cannot staff his foreign services only with the crafty ones with talent for intrigue and the flexibility of the weak: the only general qualifications are a talent for reading from the guises of others the secrecies of their heart, so that nothing escapes their penetration, and that all is discovered by the force of reasoning, not by flashes of artistry.

Honesty must always outweigh deceit, but the prince must also know how to strike the right balance in complex situations:

A prince whose frankness is both proven and known, will earn the confidence of Europe infallibly; he will be happy without cheating, and powerful through the path of peace; the good will that will take root in his State will be like a town square, where all the paths of policy must meet. This must be the goal of all his manoeuvres.

If war does become inevitable, however, then it must always be as a

last resort; thus, one should make use of it only with pre-caution and with a feeling of despair, and after a thorough examination as to whether one is carried there by an illusion of pride, or by a reason that is solid and essential.

It is no crime to defend one’s kingdom or principality, just as it is not always just to go on the offensive against a warlike neighbour. Other forms of conflict are effectively contractual:

Many princes engage in wars for their allies, by living up to their treaties, in consequence of which they were obliged to provide a number of auxiliary troops. No sovereign can do without alliances, as there are none in Europe which can support themselves by their own forces; so they are committed to giving each other mutual help where necessary; this contributes both to their security and to their conservation.

One thing that Frederick refuses to understand, and which leaves him utterly perplexed, are those princes who allow their own troops to fight as mercenaries in the service of a foreign power:

This subject naturally leads me to speak about the princes who, by a kind of bargaining known to antiquity, adulterate the blood of their people; their heart cries like an auctioneer whose troops are sold to those who offer the highest subsidies. The reason and justification for the soldier is for the defence of the fatherland; to rent them out to others, as one would sell mastiffs and bulls for combat, perverts at the same time the goals of trade and war: so it appears to my eyes. It is said that one is not allowed to sell the things necessary to health: what then makes it permissible to sell the blood of the men? Do you hear?

Religious wars, meanwhile, fought in the name of the Church, are often a sign that a ruler has taken it upon himself to speak in the name of God:

To maintain the strength of the civil government, to leave with each subject the freedom of their own conscience, to be always a king and to never play the priest, are the surest means of preserving the State which he is charged with ruling from the storms which the dogmatic spirit of the theologians always seeks to excite. I need hardly discuss what mixing men of State and men of the Churches will lead to.

Likewise, the promulgation of spiritual beliefs by the sword must be discouraged:

The foreign wars of religion are the highest height of injustice and nonsense. To leave Aachen to go to convert Saxon with iron in hand like Charlemagne, or to equip a fleet and send them to the Sultan of Egypt to turn him Christian, are quite strange apologetics. The fury of the crusades is passed; God grant that it never returns!

It is, perhaps, rather ironic to hear a man who spent most of his life on the battlefield giving advice about the perils of war, but whilst he warns that losing a war for the prince can be disastrous, Frederick himself expanded his own territory extensively and was renowned throughout Europe for his military expertise. It is encouraging, however, despite his privileged background, to appreciate that the cultured German never lost his concern for the common people:

The sovereigns who see their subjects as their slaves use them without pity, and see them perish without regret; but the princes who consider themselves to be the first among men that are at bottom equal, and who consider the people as the body of which they are the soul, spare the blood of their subjects.

It goes without saying that many of them never got to read Frederick’s work, but by attempting to influence the ambitious aristocrats of his day Frederick sought to improve their lives indirectly. His final remarks are designed to convince his readers that he has the best interests of everyone at heart:

The good opinion that I have of the princes who reign presently in the world makes me see them as worthy to hear the truth. It is the Nero, the Alexander VI, the César Borgia, the Louis XI, to whom I would not dare to say it: thanks to Providence, we do not have such men among the princes of Europe, and there is no better praise than to say that one is confident enough to indict, in front of them, all the defects which degrade royalty, and which are contrary with the sentiments of humanity and justice.

It is not for nothing, of course, that Frederick II was known as ‘the Great’.