The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

That's French for "the ancient system," as in the ancient system of feudal privileges and the exercise of autocratic power over the peasants. The ancien regime never goes away, like vampires and dinosaur bones they are always hidden in the earth, exercising a mysterious influence. It is not paranoia to believe that the elites scheme against the common man. Inform yourself about their schemes here.

Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:37 am

Fourth Part

Twenty-Second Dialogue


Montesquieu: Before listening to you, I didn't really know about either the spirit of the laws or the spirit of finances. I am in your debt for having taught me both. You hold in your hands the greatest power in modern times: money. You can get nearly as much of it as you want. With such prodigious resources, you will undoubtedly do great things. It is finally the time to demonstrate that good can come from evil.

Machiavelli: That's exactly what I intend to demonstrate.

Montesquieu: Well, let's see.

Machiavelli: First, the greatest of my benefactions will be to bestow domestic peace upon my people. During my reign, malevolent passions are suppressed. The good are encouraged and the wicked tremble! To a country previously torn by factions, I bring liberty, dignity, and strength.

Montesquieu: Having changed so many other things, have you come so far as to change the meaning of words?

Machiavelli: Liberty does not mean license, any more than dignity and strength mean insurrection and disorder. My empire, peaceful at home, will be glorious abroad.

Montesquieu: How?

Machiavelli: I shall wage war in the four corners of the world. I shall cross the Alps, like Hannibal. I shall fight in India like Alexander, in Libya like Scipio. I shall go from the Atlas to the Taurus, from the shores of the Ganges to the Mississippi, from the Mississippi to the river Amur. The Great Wall of China will fall at the sound of my name. In Jerusalem, my victorious legions will defend the tomb of the Savior. In Rome, the vicar of Jesus Christ. In Peru, my legions will trample the dust of the Incas; in Egypt, the ashes of Sesostris; in Mesopotamia, those of Nebuchadnezzar. As the descendant of Caesar, Augustus, and Charlemagne, I will avenge the defeat of Varus on the shores of the Danube; the rout of Cannes on the shores of the Adige; the Norman outrages on the Baltic.

Montesquieu: Please. Stop a moment and think. You're not up to avenging the defeats of all the military leaders of history .Of Louis XIV, Bolleau once said: Great king cease your conquering or I cease writing. I won't even compare you to Louis because it wouldn't do you justice. I grant that no hero of antiquity or modern times could rank with you.

But that's not the question. War in itself is an evil and in your hands it serves to maintain a still greater evil: servitude. But where in all this is the good that you promised to bring about?

Machiavelli: I'm not being evasive here. Glory is itself a great good. It is the most formidable asset. All other assets accrue to the sovereign who has glory. He is the terror of neighboring states and the arbiter of Europe. Whatever you might say about the worthlessness of victories, strength never abdicates its rights, and therefore this sovereign's power prevails and is invincible. Someone may pretend that wars are fought for ideals and make a display of disinterestedness, but one fine day he ends up seizing a coveted province and imposing tribute on the conquered.

Montesquieu: But in a world such as you describe, when the opportunity offers itself, such action is perfectly all right. Otherwise the military profession would be exceedingly foolish.

Machiavelli: Exactly! See, our ideas are beginning to come a bit closer together. Montesquieu: Yes, like the Atlas and the Taurus. Let's see the other great features of your reign.

Machiavelli: I'm not as disdainful as you seem to be of likening my reign to that of Louis XIV. I would have more than one trait in common with that monarch. Like him, I would erect gigantic buildings. However, my ambition would outstrip his and that of the most celebrated potentates. I would want to show the people that a monument whose construction used to require centuries could be built by me in a few years. The palaces of my predecessors would fall under the wrecker's ball in order to raise them again in new, modernized forms. I would destroy entire cities in order to reconstruct them according to more regular plans and to obtain beautiful views. You can't imagine the extent to which buildings attach people to monarchs. It could be said that they easily forgive destruction of their laws provided that they are built houses. Moreover, you will see in a moment that building projects serve several particularly important objectives.

Montesquieu: After buildings, what will you do?

Machiavelli: You 're going pretty fast. The number of great actions is not limit less. From the time of Sesostrus, to Louis XIV, to Peter the First, haven't the two principal marks of great reigns always been war and buildings?

Montesquieu: True, but still there have existed absolute sovereigns who were concerned with providing good laws, improving morals, and introducing simplicity and decency. Some were concerned with financial regulations and a well-structured economy and intended to leave a legacy of order, peace, lasting institutions-sometimes, even liberty.

Machiavelli: Oh! All that will be accomplished. You yourself see something good in absolute sovereigns.

Montesquieu: Alas! Not very much. But try to prove the contrary. Tell me of the good you'll do.

Machiavelli: I would prodigiously stimulate the spirit of enterprise. My reign would be one of commerce. I would launch speculation upon a new and hitherto unknown course. My administration would unfetter certain restrictions. I would free a number of industries from regulation. Butchers, bakers, and theatrical impressarios would be free.

Montesquieu: free to do what?

Machiavelli: Free to bake bread, free to sell meat, free to put on theatrical productions without official permission.

Montesquieu: I don't see what is such a big deal about that. Free enterprise is a right taken for granted among modern peoples. Don't you have anything better to teach me?

Machiavelli: The people's lot in life would be my constant concern. My government would find them work.

Montesquieu: It would be better to let the people find work for themselves. Political power does not have the right to make a play for popularity with its subject's money. The public revenues are a collective contribution that must be used only for the general welfare. When the working classes habitually rely on the state, they degenerate. They lose their energy, their vitality, and their intellectual skills. Being paid by the state casts them into a kind of servitude from which they can not rise except by destroying the state itself. Your building projects will consume enormous sums in nonproductive expenditures. They make capital scarce, kill small industry, and destroy credit for lower levels of society. Starvation is the consequence of all your schemes. Economize and you can build later. Govern with moderation and justice, restrict the scope of your government as far as possible, and the people will have nothing to ask of you because it will have no need of you.

Machiavelli: What cold indifference you show to the wretchedness of the people! The principles of my government are quite different. My heart goes out to the most insignificant of our poor, suffering creatures. I am indignant when I see the few rich procure pleasures beyond the reach of the many. I will do everything I can to ameliorate the material conditions of workers, laborers, and those who are bent under the weight of social necessity.

Montesquieu: Very well, then begin by giving them the funds you reserve for the salaries of your great dignitaries, your ministers, your emissaries and ambassadors. Retain for them the largess that you thoughtlessly lavish on your pages, courtesans, and mistresses.

Better yet, dispose of those sovereign trappings whose sight is an affront to the equality of men. Rid yourself of the titles of Majesty, Highness, and Excellency that pierce the ears of the proud like steel. Call yourself protector, like Cromwell, but follow the Acts of the Apostles. Go live in the cottage of the poor, like Alfred the Great. Sleep in hospitals and stretch out on the bed of the diseased like the saintly Louis. It's too easy to perform acts of evangelic charity when one's life is spent on sumptuous couches with beautiful women, when, upon going to bed and arising, great personages are eager to help you into or out of your shirt. Be a father of a family and not a despot, a patriarch and not a prince.

If this role does not suit you, be the leader of a democratic republic. Grant liberty. Infuse it into the public mind if that's your inclination. Be Lycurgus, be Agesllaus, be Gracchus. But I don't see the value of this slack civilization where everyone bows and becomes pale in the presence of the prince, where all minds are cast in the same mold and all souls are made uniform. I can understand aspiring to reign over men but not automatons.

Machiavelli: What an overwhelming flood of eloquence. Governments are overturned by such talk.

Montesquieu: Alas! You have but one concern: preserving yourself. It is a simple matter to put your love of the public good to the test. The people who elected you would only have to express its will by asking you to descend from the throne in the name of the state's salvation. Then it would be obvious to all.

Machiavelli: What a bizarre request! Obviously, it's for its own good that I would oppose such a request.

Montesquieu: What do you know about the public good? If the people are above you, by what right do you subordinate their will to yours? If you are freely accepted by the people, even if their choice is dictated by necessity and not justice, why do you place so much faith in force and nothing in reason? I count you among those rulers who last but for a day.

Machiavelli: A day! I will reign my whole life and my descendants perhaps after I me. I have revealed my political, economic, and financial system. Do you want to know the final way by which I will sink the roots of my dynasty into the depths of the earth?

Montesquieu: No.

Machiavelli: You refuse to listen to me. You are vanquished -- you, your principles, your school, and your country.

Montesquieu: Since you insist, speak, but let this conversation be the last.

Twenty Third Dialogue

Machiavelli: I won't respond to any of your oratorical outbursts. Rhetorical excesses are out of place here. Isn't it madness to say to a sovereign: "Would you please descend from your throne for the happiness of the people?" Moreover, to say to him: "Since you are a creature of popular will, abide by changes in the public mood. Be willing to have your fate publicly debated." Is this conceivable? Isn't self-defense the first law of every constituted power, not only out of self-interest, but also in the interest of the people it governs? Haven't I paid the greatest possible homage to modern principles of equality? After all, isn't a government based on universal suffrage the expression of the will of the greatest number? You will tell me this principle is destructive of public liberties. What can I do about it? When this principle has penetrated the public mind, do you know how to uproot it? And if it can't be uprooted, do you know how to realize it in the great European societies of today other than by a single man? You are too strict regarding the ways of governing. Show me some other way executive power can be employed. If there is no alternative to absolute power, tell me how it can escape certain drawbacks that necessarily follow from its principle.

No, I am not a Saint Vincent de Paul. My subjects need not an evangelic soul, but a strong ann. I am not an Agesllaus, a Lycurgus, or a Gracchus because I am dealing neither with Spartans nor Romans. I am in the midst of voluptuous societies, where a passion for pleasure and war go hand in hand, where people, transported by power and sensuality, no longer recognize divine authority, paternal authority, or religious restrictions. Did I create the world in which I live? I am as I am because it would disintegrate even more quickly if it were left to itself. I control this society through its vices because it only presents me with vices. If it had virtues, I would employ them.

Some austere and principled individuals criticize my power. But can they fall to recognize the real services I provide them, my genius, and even my grandeur?

I am the revolutionary arm, the sword that counters a sense of destruction that is in the air. I harness the mad forces that are, at end, driven by brute instincts, ravishing all in their path under the veneer of principle. If I discipline these forces, if I stop their spread in my country, if only for a century, would I not deserve to be honored? Couldn't I even claim the gratitude of European states that turn their eyes toward me as toward Osiris, who alone has the power to captivate these frenzied masses? Look up to the man who bears on his countenance the fatal mark of human destiny and bow down before him.

Montesquieu: Avenging angel, grandson of Tamerlane, though you reduce the people to Helots, you can't prevent free souls from rising somewhere. They will defy you, and their contempt would suffice to preserve those rights of the human conscience that God has rendered invisible.

Machiavelli: God protects the strong.

Montesquieu: Please, forge the last links of the chain you have been fashioning. Forge them together firmly. Use anvil and hammer. You can do anything. God protects you. He himself guides your fate.

Machiavelli: It's hard for me to understand the animus behind your words. Am I really so harsh when I embrace, not violence, but self-effacement as my political end? Rest assured then, I bring you more than one unexpected consolation. lust let me take a few more precautions that I think are necessary for my security. Enveloped with the protection they afford me, you'll see that a prince has nothing to fear from events.

Whatever you say, our writings have more than one thing in common. I think that a person who wishes to be a complete despot can not dispense with reading you. So, it was well said in The Spirit of the Laws that an absolute monarch must have a large praetorian guard. [11] That's good advice. I shall follow it. My guard will be about one-third of the effective strength of the army. I am a great advocate of conscription, which is one of the finest inventions of the French genius. But I believe that this practice must be perfected. I shall try to keep under arms the greatest possible number of those who have completed compulsory service. I think this can be done by clamping down on the buying and selling of military obligations, a practice that occurs in many states, even in France. I would suppress this hideous practice as it is now conducted. I myself would honestly engage in it by establishing a monopoly and creating a military endowment fund out of its proceeds. Those who would want to devote themselves exclusively to a military career would then be lured by money to serve and to continue in the service.

Montesquieu: For all intents and purposes, you want to establish a kind of mercenary force within your country!

Machiavelli: Yes, partisan spite might say something like that. But my suggestion is motivated only by the good of the people and also by an additional interest in my own preservation -- very legitimate -- that constitutes the common good of my subjects.

Let's go on to other subjects. You may be surprised that I am going to return to the subject of building. I warned you that we would come back to it. You'll see the political motive behind the vast system of building that I undertook. I will put an economic theory into practice that has had disastrous consequences in certain European states. This theory looks to providing permanent work for the working classes. My reign promises them a salary indefinitely. If I die, and my system is abandoned, no more work. The people would strike and mount an assault on the richer classes. Open revolt follows. Productivity would nosedive, debts would be canceled, and insurrection would spread to neighboring states. Europe would be aflame. I pause. Wouldn't the privileged classes, which quite naturally fear for their fortunes, closely loin ranks with the working classes to maintain either my person or my dynasty? Additionally, wouldn't the great powers loin together to support me out of a shared interest in a tranquil Europe?

As you can see, this subject of building, which appears so trivial, is really of colossal importance. Given the ends this policy serves, sacrifices must not be spared. Have you noticed that almost all my political reforms simultaneously serve economic goals? This is the case once again. I will set up a fund for public works, endowed with several hundred million francs that will stimulate construction all over my kingdom. You must have guessed my objective. It will provide me with a worker's lacquerie and be turned into another army that I need against factions. But this proletarian mass that I control must not turn against me if some day they are without bread. The building projects themselves will guard against this. You see, it is characteristic of my plans that each simultaneously serves multiple purposes. The worker who builds for me will also build the means of defense that I need against him. Without knowing it, he drives himself from the center of the city proper where his presence disturbs me. He makes the success of street revolutions forever impossible. The upshot of these great building projects is actually to restrict the area where the artisan lives. He will be confined to suburbs because of a rise in the cost of living, due to an increase in rents. He will soon be forced to abandon even these. It will be almost impossible for those who live by dally labor to be able to live in my capital except in the outskirts. As a result, it will be impossible for insurrections to take place. It is only in neighborhoods bordering the seat of government that insurrection can take place. Of course this means that there will be an immense working population around the capital that can be fearsome if its anger is provoked. But the renovations that I would undertake would all be conceived according to a strategic plan, that is to say, they would allow for great avenues down which cannon could move from one end to the other. The ends of these great avenues would be linked to barracks and fortresses, full of arms, soldiers, and munitions. My successor would have to be an imbecllic dotard or a chlld in order to allow his being brought down by an insurrection. At the wave of his hand, a whiff of gunpowder could sweep the streets clear up to twenty leagues from the capital. But the blood that flows in my veins burns with vitality, and my race possesses all the signs of strength. Are you listening to me?

Montesquieu: Yes.

Machiavelli: You do understand that I don't intend to make dally life difficult for the working population of the capital. I face a problem here, of course. But, the abundant resources at my government's disposal suggest a solution. It is to build vast cities for the common people where housing would be low priced and where the masses would find themselves united as in vast families.

Montesquieu: Traps!

Machiavelli: Oh! This denigrating mindset, this implacable partisan hatred doesn't miss a chance to run down my institutions. What you say will be repeated. So what? If this tool doesn't succeed, another will be found.

I must not abandon this subject of building projects without mentioning what might appear as a quite insignificant detail. But is there anything insignificant in politics? The many edifices that I construct must bear testimony to my fame: emblems, symbols, bas reliefs, and sculptures that call to mind certain subjects germane to my .history .My coat of arms and my initials must ornament everything. In one place, there will be angels supporting my crown. Farther on, statues of justice and wisdom will bear my initials. These are matters of utmost importance.

Through symbols and emblems, the person of the sovereign is always present. One lives with him, his memory, and his thought. As continually falling drops of water dissolve even granite, so the sentiment of absolute sovereignty seeps into even the most rebellious spirits. For the same reason, I want my statue, my bust, and my portraits to be in all public buildings, especially in courtrooms. l want to be represented in royal costume or on horseback.

Montesquieu: Alongside the image of Christ.

Machiavelli: Certainly not, but facing him, for sovereign power is a reflection of divine power. In such a way, my image will be associated with that of providence and justice.

Montesquieu: justice itself must wear your livery .You are not a Christian, but a Greek Byzantine emperor.

Machiavelli: I am a Roman, Catholic, and Apostolic emperor. For the same reasons as those lust mentioned, I want my name, the royal name, to be given to public buildings of all sorts -- Royal Tribune, Royal Court, Royal Academy, Royal Legislative Body, Royal Senate, Royal Council of State. As often as possible, the same designation will be given to bureaucrats, agents, and the official personnel who surround the government -- King's Lieutenant, King's Archbishop, King's Jester, King's Judge, King's Lawyer. Finally, the word "royal" will be a sign of power for those men or things that bear it. Only my birthday will be a national and not a royal holiday. In addition, as far as possible, the streets, public places, and squares should bear the names which recall the historical events of my reign. Anyone that follows these prescriptions, even a Caligula or a Nero, is certain to impress himself into the memory of peoples and to transmit his fame to the most distant centuries.

I still have so much to say, but I must limit myself. Who could say everything without a deadly boredom? I come now to small matters. I am sorry for these things are perhaps not worthy of your attention, but, for me, they are vital.

It is said that the bureaucracy is a scourge of monarchic government. I don't believe it. Bureaucrats are thousands of servants who are naturally attached to the existing order of things. I have an army of soldiers, an army of judges, an army of workers. I want an army of government employees.

Montesquieu: You no longer take the trouble to justify anything.

Machiavelli: Do I have time?

Montesquieu: No, go on.

Machiavelli: In states that have been monarchies, and they all have been at least once, I have discovered a veritable frenzy for braid and ribbons. These things cost the prince almost nothing. He can make people happy and, even better, loyal with pieces of cloth and baubles of silver or gold. Really, it would take little for me to decorate everyone who requests it. A decorated man is a bought man. I would make these decorations tokens of devotion that enthuse my subjects. I really believe that I could buy off ninetenths of my kingdom for this price. I would thereby satisfy as far as I could the egalitarian instincts of the nation. But mark this well. The more a nation as a whole prizes equality, the more individuals themselves have a passion for distinction. It would be a sorry commentary on my ruling skills not to take advantage of this course of action. Therefore, far from getting rid of titles, as you advised me, I would multiply them as I would honors. I want the etiquette of Louis XIV restored at my court, the domestic hierarchy of Constantine, austere diplomatic formality, and impressive ceremoniousness. Those are infallible ways to govern the minds of the masses. In the midst of all this, the sovereign appears as a god.

I am assured that in states that appear to embrace democratic ideas, the former monarchic nobility has lost nothing of its prestige. My chamberlains would be gentlemen of the oldest stock; Many ancient names would certainly be extinct. But by virtue of my absolute power, I would revive them through titles. At my court, the greatest names of history since Charlemagne would be found.

These ideas might appear bizarre to you, but I can assure you that they win do more for the consolidation of my dynasty than the wisest laws. Worship of the prince is a kind of religion and his worship, like all other religions, involves contradictions and mysteries beyond reason. [2l Each of my acts, howsoever seemingly incomprehensible, proceeds from a calculation whose sole aim is my security and that of my dynasty. Moreover, as I say in The Prince, the really difficult thing is to acquire power, but it is easy to preserve it. Basically, all that is needed is to eliminate whatever harms it and introduce whatever protects it. The essential feature of my politics, as you can see, has been to make myself indispensable. [3] I have destroyed as many intermediary powers as was necessary so that nothing could proceed without me, so that the very enemies of my power tremble to overturn it.

What remains for me to do is merely develop the moral premises inherent in my institutions. My reign is a reign of pleasure. Surely you won't forbid me to cheer my people by games and festivals. This will help soften manners. It cannot hide the fact that money is the predominant concern of the century. The people's needs have doubled. Luxury ruins families. Everywhere material pleasures are sought. A sovereign would have to be out of touch with his times not to know how to turn to his advantage this universal passion for money and this sensual ardor that today consumes men. Misery squeezes them as if caught in a vice. Luxury inspires them. Lasciviousness drives them. Ambition devours them. They are mine. But if I speak in this way, at bottom it is the interest of my people that guides me. Yes, I shall make good emerge from evil. I shall exploit materialism for the sake of harmony and civilization. I shall extinguish the political passions of men by placating their ambitions, covetousness, and material needs. I intend to have for servants of my reign those who, under previous governments, made the most noise about liberty. The most austere virtues are like Gioconda's wife. All that is necessary is always to double the price of defeat. Those who will turn down money will not turn down honors. Those who will turn down honors will not turn down money. In seeing those who are believed to be most pure fall one by one, public opinion will grow so weak that it will end up abdicating completely. Really, what cause will there be for complaint? I will be harsh only in what relates to politics. This passion alone will be suppressed. I will even secretly favor other passions by a thousand secret channels open to absolute power.

Montesquieu: Having destroyed the political conscience of men, you are about to destroy their moral conscience. You have killed society, now you murder man. Would to God that your words were heard on earth. They would strike ears as the most brilliant refutation of your own doctrines.

Machiavelli: Let me finish.

Twenty-Fourth Dialogue

Machiavelli; I have only to sketch certain particulars concerning my way of acting and certain character traits that give my government its final countenance.

In the first place, I want my scheme to be impenetrable even to those who are closest to me. In this regard, I would be like Alexander VI and the Duke of Valentinois. There was a saying about Alexander VI at the court of Rome, "that he never did what he said," and about the Duke of Valentinois, "that he never said what he did." I win reveal my plans only when I issue the order for their execution and I would give my orders only at the last moment. Borgia never did it any other way. His ministers themselves knew nothing and everyone around him was always kept guessing. I have a hunter's patience. When I see my prey, I look away from it, and when it is in my reach, I turn suddenly and pounce on it before it has time to utter a cry.

You would not believe what prestige such a power of dissimulation gives a prince. When it is combined with rigorous action, he is enveloped in a superstitious reverence. His counselors ask themselves in hushed tones what he will think of next. The people place confidence only in him. To them, he personifies providence whose ways are inscrutable. When the people see him pass, they are prompted by an instinctive fear to wonder what his nod could mean. Neighboring states are constantly in fear and shower him with signs of deference because they never know from one day to the next if some enterprise is about to be launched against them.

Montesquieu: You maintain power over your people by keeping them under foot. However, if you deceive the states with which you deal in the same way you deceive your subjects, their combined strength will soon wipe you out.

Machiavelli: You're getting me off the track. I'm only concerned here with domestic politics, but if you want to know one of the principal ways to check the combined hatred of foreigners, here it is. It's understood that I reign over a powerful kingdom. Among neighboring states, I would search out a large country in decline that aspires to rise again. Through some general war, I would raise it to its former greatness, as has happened to Sweden and Prussia, and might one day happen to Germany or Italy. This country would thrive only at my sufferance, I would only be an emanation of my being, and would provide me with 300,000, more men against armed Europe for as long as I live.

Montesquieu: And what about the safety of your state? You have raised a rival power on your borders that will sooner or later be an enemy.

Machiavelli; I look to my own preservation first and foremost.

Montesquieu: Then you are not even concerned about the future destiny of your kingdom?

Machiavelli: Who said that? When I provide for my own welfare, am I not providing for the welfare of my kingdom?

Montesquieu: The sketch of your royal countenance is becoming more and more clear. I want to see it in finished form.

Machiavelli: Then please don't interrupt me.

A prince, no matter how intelligent, won't always find the necessary spiritual resources within himself. One of the greatest talents of a statesman consists in making use of advice from those around him. Brilliant opinions are often found in his entourage. Therefore, I would call my council together very often. I would have it debate the most important questions in my presence. When the sovereign distrusts his own instincts or does not have rhetorical skills to disguise his true thought, he must remain silent or speak only to provoke further discussion. When a council is well chosen, the correct course of action for a given situation is almost always formulated in one way or another. A member of the council who had tentatively offered his opinion might be quite astonished the next day to see him take it up and act on it.

You can see in my institutions and my actions the attention I always pay to creating certain effects. It's as important in words as well as deeds. The real test of this skill is to create belief in one's sincerity when one is full of deceit. My schemes will not only be impenetrable; my words will always signify the opposite of what they seem to indicate. Only the initiated will be able to penetrate the meaning of certain words that from time to time I will utter on high. When I say; my reign stands for peace, it means there will be war. When I make a moral appeal, it means that I am going to use force. Are you listening to me?

Montesquieu: Yes.

Machiavelli: You have seen that my press has a hundred voices that speak constantly of the grandeur of my reign and of the enthusiasm of my subjects for their sovereign. At the same time, it puts in the mouths of the people the opinions and ideas, and even the forms of speech by which they communicate them. You have also seen that my ministers constantly impress the public with incontestable evidence of their accomplishments. As for me, I will rarely speak only once a year, and now and then on great occasions. Each of my appearances would then be welcomed as an event, not only in my kingdom but also throughout Europe. A prince whose power is based on democratic foundations must craft his language in a popular idiom. If need be, he must not shrink from speaking like a demagogue, for, after all, he represents the people and must have their passions. When the occasion warrants, he must show proper solicitude, indulge in certain flatteries and certain demonstrations of sensibility. It matters little that these techniques appear base or puerile in the eyes of the world. The people will not look so closely, and the sought-after effect will be produced.

In my book, I advise the prince to take for a model some great man from the past in whose footsteps he must follow insofar as possible. [4] Even today, these imitations of historical figures have a great effect on the masses. Such a prince is enlarged in their imagination. In his lifetime, he is granted that place which posterity is reserving for him. Besides, in the history of great men are found comparisons, useful hints, and sometimes even identical situations from which valuable lessons can be drawn. All great political lessons are contained in history .When a prince finds a great man to whom he is somewhat analogous, he can do still more. You know that people love a prince to have a cultivated mind, a taste for letters, even to have talent himself. Well, the prince could not put his leisure to better use than by writing, say, the history of the great man of the past whom he has taken for a model. An austere philosophy might condemn such things as frivolous. When the sovereign is strong, he is excused. Such pursuits even give him an indefinable attractiveness.

Moreover, certain weaknesses, and even certain vices, serve the prince as much as virtues. You have already seen the truth of these observations in the use that I have sometimes had to make of duplicity arid violence. For example, it should not be believed that the vindictive character of the sovereign harms him. Quite the contrary. While it is often opportune to employ clemency or magnanimity, at certain moments, his anger must be brought to bear in a terrifying manner. Man is the image of God, and the Divinity avails Himself of severe blows as well as mercy. When I have decided to destroy my enemies I will crush them until there remains nothing but dust. Men avenge only slight injuries. They are powerless against great ones. [5] hat's what I assert in my book. The prince has only to choose the instruments of his wrath. He will always find judges ready to sacrifice their consciences to his projects of vengeance or hatred.

Have no fear that the people will ever be roused by the blows I deliver. First, they like to feel a strong arm in command. Next, they naturally hate what is elevated and instinctively rejoice when what is above them is struck down. And yet, perhaps you are not aware how quickly people forget.

In the early Roman Empire, Tacitus reports that victims welcomed torture with an inexplicable joy. You do understand that nothing similar happens in modern times. Manners have become quite soft. So now quite light punishments are sufficient -- proscription, imprisonment, and the forfeiture of certain civil rights is all that is needed. To achieve sovereign power, it is true that blood had to be spilt and many rights violated. I repeat that all this will be forgotten. The smallest gesture of the prince, acts of good will on the part of his ministers or his agents, will be welcomed with expressions of the greatest gratitude.

If one must punish with an unyielding vigor, it is necessary to be prompt and generous with rewards. This I would never fall to do. Whoever renders a service to my government would be rewarded on the very next day. Positions, distinctions, and the greatest honors would constitute a hierarchy of rank for those who effectively carry out my policy. In the army, in the courts, in all public posts, advancement would be calculated according to the extent of agreement with and the degree of zeal for my government. You are silent.

Montesquieu: Continue.

Machiavelli: l return to a consideration of certain vices and even certain eccentricities that I think are necessary for the prince. Handling power is an awesome task. However skilled a sovereign may be, however penetrating his sight, and however vigorous his resolve, fortune still plays a role in his existence. He has to be superstitious. Don't think that this is of no consequence. In the life of the prince, there are situations so difficult and moments so grave that human prudence no longer suffices. In those instances, decisions are almost a matter of rolling dice. The course of action I recommend and would follow in crises is to line yourself up with famous. historical dates and appropriate anniversaries, placing this or that bold decision under the auspices of a day when a victory was won or a surprise attack successfully carried out. I must tell you about another great advantage in being superstitious. people identify with this turn of mind. These attempts at playing to destiny often bear fruit and they must also be employed when success is certain. The people, which only judges by results, gets used to believing that there is a correspondence between each of the sovereign's acts and certain celestial signs, that historical coincidences force the hand of fortune.

Montesquieu: When you come right down to it, you are a gambler.

Machiavelli: Yes, I have unheard-of good fortune. And I have such a sure hand and so fertile a brain that fortune has no role to play.

Montesquieu: Since you are portraying yourself fully, you must still have other vices or other virtues to show off.

Machiavelli: l hope that you'll pardon licentiousness. A sovereign can put the passion for women to use much more than you might imagine. Henry IV owed a part of his popularity to his incontinence. Men are so made that they are pleased to find this penchant in those who govern them. Indulging in moral improprieties has been fashionable in all times, a gallant trait in which the prince must outdo his peers, as he outdoes his soldiers before the enemy. These are French ideas and I don't think that they will prove too offensive to the author of The Persian Letters. I don't want to carry such vulgar considerations too far. However, I can't dispense with telling you that the most substantial benefit from the prince's behavior is to win the sympathy of the more beautiful half of his subjects.

Montesquieu: You 're not going to compose madrigals, are you?

Machiavelli: One can be serious and gallant. You yourself provide the proof. I will not retreat from my proposition. The influence of women on the public mind is considerable. For political reasons, the prince is condemned to be attentive to women, even if basically he cares little for it. But such a case will be rare.

I can assure you that if I carefully follow the rules I have lust outlined there will be little concern about liberty in my kingdom. The people will have a vigorous sovereign, lusty, full of the spirit of chivalry, and adroit in all athletics. He will be loved. Austere people will not be able to do anything about it. They will be swept up in the wave. What's more, nonconformists will be proscribed and isolated. People will put no trust in their character or in their disinterestedness. They will be thought malcontents who want to be bought off. If once or twice I show no favor to a certain talent, it will be spurned everywhere. Consciences will be casually tread upon. But basically, I would be a moral prince. Certain limits must be set up. I will respect the public's sense of shame when it shows it wants to be respected. I will remain unblemished in all this, for the odious aspects of administration will be assigned to others. The worst that might be said of me is that I am a good prince with a bad entourage, but that I want the good, genuinely want it, and will always do it when it is pointed out to me.

If you only knew how easy it is to govern when one has absolute power. There is no opposition and no resistance. I have the luxury of time to carry out my plans and to correct my mistakes. Facing no opposition, I can devote myself to the happiness of the people, which is my constant concern. I can assure you that boredom will not exist in my kingdom. A thousand different objects will constantly occupy people's minds. I shall spread before the people the spectacle of my lavish trappings and the display of my court. Grand ceremonies will be orchestrated. I shall lay out gardens. I shall entertain kings. I shall attract ambassadors from the remotest lands. At times, there will be rumors of war. At other times, talk will concentrate on complicated matters of diplomacy for months on end. I shall even go so far as to satisfy the obsession for liberty. The wars that will occur in my reign will be undertaken in the name of the liberty of men and the independence of nations. And while people are acclaiming me along the way, I will secretly whisper in the ears of absolute monarchs: Have no fear. I am with you. I wear a crown like you and I'm anxious to keep it. I embrace European liberty but only to stifle it.

Perhaps there does exist one thing that could compromise my fortunes -- the day when all sides recognize my politics as disingenuous and that all my acts are a product of calculation.

Montesquieu: Who will be so blind not to see that?

Machiavelli: My people as a whole, except for a few coteries of little consequence. Besides, compared to them, I have brought into being around me a formidable school of political men. You can't believe the extent to which Machiavellianism is contagious and how easy many of its precepts are to follow. In all branches of government there will be veritable miniature Machiavellis, who will trick, dissimulate, and lie with an imperturbable sangfroid. Truth will not be able to come to light anywhere.

Montesquieu: As I see it, Machiavelli, you have been jesting from beginning to end in this conversation and I regard your irony in this regard as your most impressive achievement.

Machiavelli; Irony! You are quite mistaken if you think so. Don't you see that I have spoken candidly and that it is the terrible violence of the truth that colors my account? And you see that as irony!

Montesquieu: Surely, you've finished.

Machiavelli; Not yet.

Montesquieu; Then finish.

Twenty-Fifth Dialogue

Machiavelli: I shall reign for ten years under these conditions without changing anything in my legal code. Success is assured only at this price. Nothing, I repeat, absolutely nothing must make me change during this period. The cover of the cauldron must be made of iron and lead. During this time, the work of destroying factious spirits is carried out. Perhaps you believe the people are unhappy and that they complain. Ah! I could be held to account if that were so. But when the springs are most tightly coiled and when I weigh most heavily on the chests of my people, here is what will be said: "We only got what we deserved. Let's put up with it."

Montesquieu: You are quite blind if you construe that as a defense of your reign and if you don't understand these utterances as indicating a powerful longing for the past. Those stoic words foretell the day of your downfall.

Machiavelli: Your words disturb me. O.K. The time has come to uncoil the springs. I am going to grant liberties.

Montesquieu: Oppression by you, even granting all its excesses, is a thousand times better. Your people will respond: "Keep what you have taken."

Machiavelli: Ah! I clearly see an implacable partisan hatred at play here. It concedes nothing to its adversaries -- nothing. It doesn't even acknowledge benefits.

Montesquieu: No, Machiavelli. I grant you nothing, nothing! The immolated victim receives no benefits from his executioner.

Machiavelli: Ah! How easily I can read the minds of my enemies in this regard. They flatter themselves in hoping that the coiled energies that I have compressed will sooner or later launch me into space. The fools! They will really understand me only in the end. In politics, the slightest pretext of danger can serve to play into the greatest possible repression. And such pretexts will be found.

Surely, I won't grant significant liberties, but you have to grasp the extent to which absolutism has already penetrated the public mind. I bet that at the first mention of these liberties, dreadful rumors will circulate about me. My ministers and counselors will cry out that I have abandoned the rudder, that all is lost. I shall be implored in the name of the state and the country not to grant them. The people will say: "What's he thinking about? His genius is no longer in evidence and he's losing his grip." The lukewarm will say: "He's finished." Those who are full of hate will say: "He's dead."

Montesquieu: And they will be right. A modern writer has spoken a great truth: "Do you want to ravish men of their rights? One must do nothing by halves. What is left them will be used to reclaim what has been stolen. The hand that is left free frees the other from its chains."

Machiavelli: That's a fine thought and very true. I know that I am quite vulnerable. You have to say that you treat me unjustly, for I love liberty more than is said. A short while ago you asked me if I could act disinterestedly and sacrifice myself for my people by relinquishing the throne, if need be. You now have my answer. I could relinquish it as a martyr. Montesquieu: You're growing quite soft. What liberties would you grant?

Machiavelli; On the first day of each year I would allow my legislature to express its wishes to me in a petition.

Montesquieu: But since the great majority of the lower chamber is devoted to you, what will you receive but thanks and tokens of admiration and love?

Machiavelli; Well, yes, but aren't these tokens genuine?

Montesquieu: That's the only liberty you'll grant?

Machiavelli: But this first concession is significant, whatever you may say. However, I will not rest there. In Europe today, there is a movement of thought away from centralization, not among the masses but among the enlightened classes. I shall decentralize. That is to say, I shall give my provincial governors the right to settle many of the petty local questions that used to be handled by my ministers.

Montesquieu: You only make tyranny more unpalatable if the local level counts for nothing.

Machiavelli: Behold the dangerous impatience of those who clamor for reform. Prudent steps must be taken along the path of liberty. However, I shall go one step further. I'll grant commercial liberties.

Montesquieu: You have already mentioned them.

Machiavelli: Industrial matters always concern me. I don't want it said that my laws are set against the people and prevent them from providing for their own subsistence. It is for this reason that I will present to the legislature laws whose purpose is to soften some of the more prohibitive provisions regarding the right of association. Moreover, my tolerant government will make this measure superfluous. Finally, given that we must remain armed, nothing will be changed in the law except its wording. Today there are deputies in the legislature who readily lend themselves to these innocuous stratagems.

Montesquieu: Is that all?

Machiavelli: Yes, but it's a lot, too much, perhaps. But I think I can rest assured. My army is enthusiastic; my courts are faithful; and my penal institutions function with the regularity and precision of all those powerful machines invented by modern science.

Montesquieu: So, you won't alter the laws regarding the press?

Machiavelli: You don't really expect that?

Montesquieu: Local legislation?

Machiavelli: Impossible.

Montesquieu: Voting matters?

Machiavelli: No.

Montesquieu; You won't alter the organization of the Senate or the legislature, change your domestic or foreign policy, or your economic and financial system?

Machiavelli: I shall only alter what I've mentioned. In a nutshell, I leave the period of terror behind and embark upon the path of tolerance. I can do this safely. I could even grant real liberties. You'd have to be completely bereft of political intelligence not to see that by this time my legislation has borne fruit. I've done what I said I would do. The character of the nation has changed. The trivial rights that I have granted are for me yardsticks by which I measure the depth of change. Everything is done. Everything is accomplished. Resistance is no longer possible. There is no more danger. None! And yet, I've given nothing away. You've said lust as much. This is the effectual truth.

Montesquieu: Hurry up and finish, Machiavelli. May my spirit never encounter you again and may God erase from my memory the last trace of what I've lust heard!

Machiavelli: Take care, Montesquieu. Before this moment lapses into eternity, you will anxiously try to trace my steps and the memory of this conversation will torment your soul eternally.

Montesquieu: Speak!

Machiavelli: All right, let's go on. You're acquainted with everything I've done. By means of these concessions to the liberal spirit of my time, I have disarmed partisan hatred.

Montesquieu: Ah! You continue to wear this hypocritical mask that has covered unspeakable crimes. Do you want me to leave this eternal darkness and to heap reproaches on you! Ah! Machiavelli. Your previous teaching had not degraded humanity to this extent! You did not conspire against conscience. You had not thought to so degrade the human soul that the Divine Creator Himself would no longer recognize it.

Machiavelli: True, I surpass even myself.

Montesquieu: Get out of here! Do not prolong this conversation another moment.

Machiavelli; Before those tumultuous souls over there have reached this dark ravine that separates us from them, I will have finished and you will not see me any more and will call for me in vain.

Montesquieu; Finish then. That will be expiation for the temerity that I've shown in accepting this unholy wager.

Machiavelli; Ah! Liberty! Behold the force with which you possess a few souls although the people despise you and console themselves with baubles. Let me illustrate with a very short anecdote. Dion relates that the Roman people were indignant toward Augustus because of certain very harsh laws that he had made. But as soon as he had the actor Piladus recalled and the seditious were banished from the city, discontent ceased.

There is my anecdote. Now here is the conclusion of an author whose eminence makes him worthy of citation. "Such a people feels tyranny more keenly when an actor is banished than when it is deprived of the protection of the laws." [6] Do you know who wrote that?

Montesquieu: It doesn't matter!

Machiavelli: Then you realize that you wrote it. I'm surrounded by base souls. What can I do about it? During my reign there win be no dearth of actors and they would have to behave quite badly for me to banish them.

Montesquieu; I don't know if you have quoted my words exactly. But here is a quotation I can vouch for. It will forever give the lie to your slanders against the people. "The character of the prince contributes as much to liberty as laws. lust as the laws can make men out of beasts and beasts out of men, so can the prince. If he loves free souls, he will have subjects. If he loves base souls, he will have slaves." [7]

That's my response and if I had to add anything to this quotation today, I would say: "When public integrity is banished from the midst of courts, and when corruption flaunts itself indecently, it only penetrates the hearts of those near a bad prince. The love of virtue continues to live in the hearts of the people and the power of this principle is so great that if the bad prince disappears, it is in the very nature of things for integrity and liberty simultaneously to return to the operation of government."

Machiavelli: That is well said and quite straightforward. There's only one flaw in it. In the mind and soul of my people, I personify virtue. Even more, I personify liberty and also revolution, progress, the modern spirit, finally, all that is best at the core of contemporary civilization. I don't say that I shall be respected or loved, but I do say that I will be revered and adored. If I so wished, I could have monuments raised to me because I exert a fatal attraction for the masses. In your country, Louis XVI was guillotined, although he only desired the good of the people and wanted it with all the conviction and ardor of a genuinely honest soul. Several years before, monuments were raised to Louis XIV who cared less for the people than the least of his mistresses. He, with a slight nod of the head, would mow down the rabble while shooting dice with Lauzun. But I am more formidable than Louis XIV because my reign rests on popular foundations. I am Washington, Henry IV, Saint Louis, Charles the Wise. I select the kings you consider best in order to humor you. I am simultaneously king of Egypt and Asia. I am pharaoh; I am Cyrus; I am Alexander; I am Sardanapolus. When I pass by, I exalt the soul of the people. people run deliriously in my train. I am an object of idolatry. The father points me out to his son. The mother invokes my name in her prayers. The girl looks at me, sighs, and thinks that if only I might glance at her, perchance, she could lie for a moment in my bed. When the unfortunate are oppressed, they say: if only the king knew. When someone seeks revenge or hopes for help, they say: the king will understand. Moreover, I am never approached but when my hands are full of gold. It is true that there are those in my entourage who are harsh and violent and occasionally deserve a flogging. But things are necessarily so. Their hateful and spiteful character, their base cupidity, their debaucheries, their shameless prodigality, and their crass avarice provide a striking contrast with the sweetness of my character, my unpretentious demeanor, and my inexhaustible generosity. I tell you that my name will be invoked as if I were a god. When there are hailstorms, droughts, and fires, I rush up and the people throw themselves at my feet. They would bear me to heaven in their arms if God gave them wings.

Montesquieu: All of which would not prevent you from mowing them down at the faintest sign of resistance.

Machiavelli: That's true, but love does not exist without fear.

Montesquieu: Is this frightful fantasy finished?

Machiavelli: A fantasy! Ah! Montesquieu! How disillusioned you are! Tear up The Spirit of the Laws. Ask God to grant you oblivion as your eternal reward. Behold in full the terrible truth that you have already glimpsed. There is nothing fantastic in what I have lust told you.

Montesquieu: What are you about to tell me?

Machiavelli; What I have lust described -- this mass of monstrous things before which the spirit recoils in fright, this work that only hell itself could accomplish -- all this is done, exists and is prospering in the light of day, at this very hour, in that place on the robe that you have recently departed.

Montesquieu: Where?

Machiavelli; No. That would mean inflicting a second death on you.

Montesquieu: Ah! Speak, in the name of heaven!

Machiavelli: Well ...

Montesquieu: What?

Machiavelli; The hour is past! Don't you see that the whirlwind is carrying me away?

Montesquieu: Machiavelli!

Machiavelli: Look! Do you recognize these souls passing nearby with their hands covering their eyes? It is they who were the glory and envy of the whole world. They are petitioning God on behalf of their fatherland! ...

Montesquieu: Eternal God, what have you permitted! ...

_______________

Notes:

I. The Spirit of the Laws X I5.

2. The Spirit Of the Laws XXV 2.

3. The Prince IX.

4. The Prince XIV.

5. The Prince III.

6. The Spirit of the Laws XIX 2.

7. The Spirit of the Laws XII 27.
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:41 am

Part 1 of 2

COMMENTARY

Part 1: The Machiavelli-Montesquieu Debate

Chapter One: THE ESSENTIAL DIFFERENCES BETWEEN MACHIAVELLI AND MONTESQUIEU


The Dialogue in Hell consists of four major parts. Part one contains the first seven dialogues. In the last of these, Machiavelli gives a "quick sketch" of his revolutionary regime. It is a fitting preface to the rest of the Dialogue as a whole, which elaborates the essential elements of a new despotism in detail. The present chapter will comment on the first three dialogues. The next chapter will comment on the remaining dialogues of Part One. Before turning to this textual analysis, a brief summary of the movement of the argument in Part One is in order.

In the first two Dialogues, Machiavelli and Montesquieu respectively present the fundamental principles of their political philosophies. This concludes with Machiavelli's assertion that despotism is an eternal possibility and Montesquieu's contrary assertion that the progress of history since his interlocutor's death has rendered despotism obsolete. The Third Dialogue begins a more elaborate discussion of Montesquieu's political science which is designed to counter the concentration of power that is the necessary and perhaps sufficient condition of tyranny. By the end of the Third Dialogue, we are made aware of a certain gap, not in Machiavelli's knowledge of history, but in that of Montesquieu, who is largely unaware of certain critical events since his own death. His ignorance of what had happened since 1847 crucially changes the whole direction of his conversation with Machiavelli. If we count the Seventh Dialogue as prefatory, this occurs literally in the center of Part One.

The next chapter of this study is devoted to a commentary on the Fourth through the Seventh Dialogues and begins with Machiavelli's initial assault on the political system just elaborated by Montesquieu. The Sixth Dialogue concludes in a "wager". Montesquieu is confident that his regime is proof against "Machiavellian" despotism, while Machiavelli claims that he can found such a regime, even granting liberal institutions and the most enlightened political conditions.

In the rest of the Dialogue in Hell, Machiavelli redeems his bet by describing a new political founding that supplants the liberal regime of Montesquieu. He proves the eternal possibility of despotism but in the element of a totally new understanding of political things -- what later chapters will show as essentially derived from the "Doctrine of Saint-Simon." A new political science and conception of history emerges in Machiavelli's discourse and it can be understood as the counterpart of Montesquieu's political science, as elaborated in Part One.

The Encounter

The First Dialogue opens with an impressive demonstration ofMachiavelli's dialectical skill. He expresses his elation at finding Montesquieu, whom he has assiduously sought out. To converse with "great men' whose "names have resounded throughout the universe" is more than ample compensation for the loss of earthly existence which, in Machiavelli's case, proved so burdensome in many particulars. Of all "illustrious persons," he would rather meet no one more than "the great Montesquieu."

In repeating the epithet "great," Machiavelli returns the compliment of the illustrious author of The Spirit of the Laws who had indeed referred to the Florentine philosopher in that work as a "great man." [1] Montesquieu reacts to such a seemingly gracious greeting with reserve. It is perhaps less an indication of Machiavelli's true feelings and more an example of "the language of courts" he put to use as a Florentine diplomat. The fact that Montesquieu does not warmup to this original entreaty is an indication of a quite understandable suspiciousness in the face of such an enigmatic and ill-reputed personage.

It is a disconsolate Montesquieu that Machiavelli greets. The position in which Montesquieu finds himself apparently has robbed him of former pleasures, chiefly glory. "The name 'great' belongs to no one here, O Machiavelli," he states with sighing resignation. Indeed, Montesquieu is so disconsolate that he risks a breach of good manners. He denies greatness, not only to himself, but also to anyone else in this hell, thereby in effect retracting the compliment he paid Machiavelli while alive. He is somewhat surprised that Machiavelli could relish a conversation under such circumstances, when there is nothing to exchange but "anguish and regrets." To say the least, Montesquieu does not share Machiavelli's enthusiasm for any conversation.

Far from being a mere exercise in courtliness and engaging flattery, Machiavelli's greeting has served to sound out his interlocutor's frame of mind. Machiavelli learns that Montesquieu is not an eager conversationalist and that steps must be taken to turn this reluctance around, if they are to profit in any way from their encounter. He first must know the deeper causes of Montesquieu's "anguish," and the question he frames is delicately designed to encourage a fuller revelation of his interlocutor on this score. In a little while, we learn that Machiavelli's knowledge of history is up-to-date, while Montesquieu is crucially ignorant of the happenings since 1847. Nothing he has learned, apparently, has prepared him for what follows this momentous date. Hidden from Montesquieu is the revolutionary breakdown of society, and the knowledge of what this imports directly bears on the question of the possibilities for despotism that becomes the substance of their conversation. The point is that Machiavelli initially masks in optimism his distressing knowledge of what has come to pass in contemporary Europe. He tests his interlocutor by asking how it is that such a renowned "philosopher" and "statesman" could speak so disconsolately. But before Montesquieu can answer, Machiavelli indicates, speaking for himself at least, that Montesquieu's attitude is groundless in either case.

To true philosophers, the passing of earthly existence, which Montesquieu regrets so much, is of little account. The truth of things, what really matters to such men, is deathless, and present circumstances offer certain advantages in its pursuit that are unavailable to mere mortals. Here, in the "domain of pure reason," a person may converse with the great minds of the past. Furthermore, one may meditate upon the affairs of the world, an engaging "spectacle to contemplate," "full of marvels," as related by the deceased who have descended to this hell. And such "marvels" are far from disquieting. Rather, they bespeak the unfolding "lessons of history" that vindicate "human rights." Insofar as the goal of the statesman is to secure these rights, Machiavelli shows Montesquieu that he especially should not be disconsolate or despairing. Moreover, since even "the void of death" could not break all the ties that attach us to earth, Montesquieu's statesmanlike role in history as "legislator of nations" is still acknowledged. For advancing the political art and so ameliorating the lot of his fellow man, no one so blessed by posterity can wait more confidently for final judgment.

Why then such "anguish and regrets" on Montesquieu's part? By implication, it must be for other than purely philosophical reasons or disinterested concern for mortals, in whose happiness he does not share at present. He seems to regret his loss of glory and personal celebrity, the full measure of which attaches to earthly existence. It certainly "belongs to no one here," where all are reduced by death to a miserable existence in this peculiar hell. In any case, a frank admission of such regrets would be unbecoming, smacking too much of human pride and vanity. Montesquieu does not like being put into a position of inferiority to Machiavelli, who appears more genuinely disinterested. However, it is the concern with glory that is uppermost in the Montesquieu's mind. He wonders how someone like Machiavelli, apparently so capable of lofty concerns and sentiments, can support the infamy of his reputation -- what he facetiously calls "immense renown."

Montesquieu's response is noteworthy in a number of respects. Machiavelli has spoken, for his part, on the nature of present existence in a manner that invites commentary from his interlocutor. Given his expressed unhappiness, we might expect Montesquieu, for his part, to criticize the edifying picture of hell just described for him. Disembodied existence precludes material pleasures. But even the merits of the philosophic life, praised by Machiavelli, might appear questionable in such circumstances. The imminence of divine judgment might overshadow any pursuits, including the pleasures of the mind.

Moreover, had Montesquieu known of the most recent events in France, he would have questioned straight away the sanguine view of history that seemingly provides such edifying and interesting material for Machiavelli's contemplation. Yet, as we shall see, he essentially accepts this perspective and believes that history is inexorably moving toward the universal fulfillment of human rights. Montesquieu appears not only singularly complacent, he is perhaps not sufficiently philosophic. At least he lacks the dogged earnestness of his interlocutor in his search for conversation and enlightenment. He rests confident of his knowledge and sure in his faith in history .Machiavelli will address him accordingly.

In any event, we get neither the "philosophic" nor the "political" discussion Machiavelli tried to elicit. Instead, Machiavelli is caned to justify himself. Their conversation can not take place in any meaningful way if Machiavelli is in fact as his reputation depicts him. Montesquieu's suspiciousness must be dissipated. As we shall see, Machiavelli gets his philosophic and political dialogue. He turns what ostensibly begins as a personal defense into a testing of Montesquieu's deepest and dearest convictions and thereby cleverly succeeds in revealing his interlocutor more than himself.

The exchange to this point can be summarized as follows. Montesquieu has returned the courtly compliment of Machiavevelli that opens their conversation with one that is caustjcally facetious. He hides his own desire for recognition and real regret at his loss of the world by feigning to admire Machiavelli's "modesty" in the face of his "immense renown." The subject suddenly changes from Montesquieu's fame to Machiavelli's infamy as "compliments" come to be understood by both as veiling barbed reproaches. Before Montesquieu might have to answer to loving reputation and the worldly trappings of glory and success too much, he accuses Machiavelli of shameless disregard of reputation that had him promoting despotism while truckling with tyrants. Machiavelli's "modesty" is really brazenness and his "renown" infamy.

Machiavelli begins his defense by himself attacking his interlocutor for a vulgar view which, full of "blind prejudice," makes the name Machiavelli synonymous with evil. Judging like "the crowd," he would hold Machiavelli responsible for all tyrannies. Far from truckling with tyrants, Machiavelli presents himself as having put his life, fortune, and honor on the line in defense of his fatherland and the advance of republicanism there. He even suffered torture at the hands of the Medici for remaining true to his cause. He expects a better judgment from the "great French publicist" while; as a last recourse, he appeals to Providence to correct the injustices he has suffered?

Such an appeal is calculated to affect the Frenchman, who is shown in the Dialogue to be a staunch patriot himself. Montesquieu admits that the dichotomy between Machiavelli's life and thought has always been a puzzle to him. How can the "servant of a republic" be the founder of a school that would "justify tyrannies' most heinous crimes?" he asks in sincere consternation.

Since the topic is broached, Machiavelli will give a most pleasing answer to Montesquieu. It confirms the view Montesquieu would like to hold of the Florentine, while it separates him from Machiavelli's "vulgar accusers." Montesquieu assumes he belongs among those who "know" Machiavelli's life and have "attentively read" his works. In fact he takes at face value what is only hypothetically offered as a defense. He mistakenly sees as candid a response that appeals to his vanity in confirming his own opinions regarding the "true" Machiavelli and his superiority to those who judge like "the crowd."

"What if I told you that the book was only the product of a diplomat's imagination?" Machiavelli asks. He goes on to explain that the book was never meant for publication. Therefore, the infamy it gained him was undeserved and unfortunate. Moreover, he indicates that in depicting political conditions in sixteenth century Italy, he was merely reflecting the standards of the times, not eternal maxims for politics -- a line of defense that is not even complete when Montesquieu interrupts to congratulate him for such a frank avowal. In fact, this is what Montesquieu thought all along but it does Machiavelli "honor" to hear him dissociate his "real" self from the thoughts contained in The Prince. The politics of the times had "clouded" his "exalted mind." The book can be seen as the reflections of a diplomat, and should not be judged by the rigors of philosophy or political science. The skeptical regard of Montesquieu vanishes. He now can enthusiastically enter a conversation with one so maligned and misunderstood. At the precise moment Montesquieu opens up, Machiavelli retracts what Montesquieu found so pleasing and reassuring.

The Fundamentals of Machiavellian Thought

Machiavelli now attacks not only the vulgar conception of himself but also the more learned one espoused by Montesquieu and others, who have declared their confidence in having understood the Florentine. Far from a personalized account with limited historical applicability, his thinking is based on eternal truths, Machiavelli now forthrightly claims. Rejecting dialectics and the ancient philosophic approach identified with Socrates, he claims to join his interlocutor in putting forth a systematic account of human things, deduced from certain principles that are based on hard "facts," however unpleasant. Particular attention should be paid to Machiavelli at this point, which comes before the full measure of his interlocutor has been taken. The tack of the conversation changes in light of certain of Montesquieu's limitations, which are not yet known.

In what is perhaps his most forthright description of his intention, Machiavelli claims that his "only crime" was "to speak the truth to peoples as I did to kings" -- not the "moral truth" or "the truth as it should be," but the "political truth" as "it is and always will be." Machiavellianism, the paternity of which is attributed to Machiavelli, is actually "grounded in the human heart." Machiavelli is only the objective analyst of what later came to be known as "Machiavellianism." He can not be held as its cause. In fact, "Machiavellianism preceded Machiavelli," as a long list of practitioners of the Machiavellian arts attests. Of course, it also succeeds Machiavelli. However, The Prince could not teach to such types anything that they already didn't know by the practices of power. They are no different from those that preceded The Prince and have all acted in remarkably similar fashions.

Such a statement is a sufficient response to the charges of his more vulgar detractors and their moral condemnation of his thought. He did not intend to depict "moral truths" nor did he intend, in the manner of ancient philosophy, to investigate "how things should be." His was the effectual truth of political matters, something which is eternally true. Therefore, his thought can not be so easily dismissed as the product of a particular era. The Machiavellianism he describes, because it is inscribed in the human heart, has its practitioners throughout human history. And the most recent past, known to Machiavelli but hidden from Montesquieu, finds his teaching on despotism once again relevant.

According to Machiavelli, his political teaching is based on modern science which, he implies at the end of the First Dialogue, is also the animating spirit of Montesquieu in his works. Therefore, it makes as much sense to reproach Machiavelli for seeking the effectual truth of politics as the physicist for seeking the physical cause of falling bodies that harm us. It is not unlike blaming "the doctor," he continues, "for describing diseases, the chemist for cataloguing poisons, the moralist for portraying vice, and the historian for writing history."

Though admittedly not gifted in argument,3 Joly's Montesquieu would like to protest the evident fallacy of such an analogy, given the thrust of Machiavelli's teaching in works that he supposedly "attentively read." Despite his disavowal of more vulgar critics, Montesquieu here shares with them a moral condemnation of Machiavelli for communicating to states through his works "how to distill" political poison. According to this view, Machiavelli seeks evil in order to propagate it, not to cure it. However, if we take Machiavelli literally at his word here, he seems to present himself in Montesquieu's camp as an enemy of despotism and in patent conflict with The Prince, at least as Montesquieu here interprets it. By his analogy with the medical art, Machiavelli condemns despotism as an evil, a malady of the political system as is heart disease, for example, to the bodily system. Machiavelli does not correct Montesquieu 's understanding in this regard but merely rebukes him for not having understood his thought "in its entirety."

Given Montesquieu's "incomplete" understanding of Machiavelli, it is curious that Machiavelli does not take steps to enlighten his interlocutor at this time about the "full" meaning of his thought. This has the desired effect of provoking Montesquieu to a further revelation of himself and to an articulation of his own political principles in the Second Dialogue. Machiavelli succeeds in engaging Montesquieu in the serious discussion he was previously reluctant to enter and effectively lays the groundwork for their fateful wager by encouraging Montesquieu to believe not only in the moral rectitude of his position but its unassailable character, as well.

Machiavelli states that his own system is "unshakable" because it is based on an "eternal truth," It is a "fact" that Machiavelli does not even feel compelled to demonstrate that "the evil instinct in man is more powerful than the good." Because man is "more attracted by evil than by good," it follows that "fear and force have more sway over him than reason." In such a bleak description of human nature, the prospects for despotism are enhanced. " All men seek domination and no one would not be a tyrant," if he honestly followed his inclinations. Still, the picture is curiously qualified immediately after such a blanket statement. " All, or nearly all, are ready to sacrifice another's rights to their own interests."

As the qualification seems to indicate, Machiavelli has been intentionally provocative to this point. He does in fact recognize the force for good in man, though he thinks the inclination to evil is much stronger. He apparently thinks that "some" at least might be willing to sacrifice their interests for the rights of others. Shortly, in what appears to be a blanket critique of liberty, he claims that in certain "regions of Europe," people are incapable of moderation in its exercise. Are there other "regions" where liberty suits its people? Liberty's degeneration into license again prompts a rather qualified praise for despotism. Is it not a better alternative than anarchy?

Beyond the shocking way in which Machiavelli expresses himself, there is perhaps not so great a distance between the Machiavelli of the Dialogue and this Montesquieu, after all. Certain aspects of the Montesquieuan system are compatible with what Machiavelli here states as his own teaching. It would not be incorrect to characterize that system as intending to build upon certain general human proclivities to effect a more common good, while leaving scope and encouragement for man's better instincts, if only found in the few. Accordingly, Montesquieu ' s teaching might be viewed as "Machiavellianism come of age" -- a prudent and less shocking application of similar principles. "If I am not mitaken," Machiavelli asks, "aren't a number of these ideas found in The Spirit of the Laws?" [4]

As in certain passages of The Prince, Joly's Machiavelli returns to the beginnings of society to discover the real operative principles of politics. He eschews considerations of transcendent "ends" or any "abstract" standard by which to judge political life as ineffectual guides that distort political life as it really is. "I have taken societies as they are," Machiavelli states, "and have laid down rules accordingly." Violence and deceit might be considered evil "in the abstract," he continues. However, such acts can not be judged good or evil in themselves. The standard we should bring to bear is whether or not they promote what is "useful and necessary" to political life. And it is the necessity "to live" that "dominates states as it does individuals." In fact, "good," understood as Montesquieu understands it, "can come from evil." Furthermore, as the most brilliant societies of the world have issued from despotism, it might be argued that "one attains good through evil." In sum, "the end justifies the means" and we shower great men with glory who effectively act by this maxim in the founding of their countries.

Given the self-seeking nature of "these ravenous beasts we call men," force is always a recurrent necessity for ruling and maintaining order. Political crises, the real focus of Machiavelli's discussion, might be said to require a return to "the origins of society" where "brutal and unrestrained force prevails." In this light, law is "still force," but "institutionalized" and softened by "certain forms." Machiavelli, who consults history and not abstract standards, finds in force the fundamental ground of politics. "Everywhere force precedes right," and is its precondition. The brute fact of force may be compared with the idea of "justice," -- a mere "word" -- "infinitely vague" whose application to the political conduct of rulers, though admittedly relevant, is demonstrably contingent and therefore "extremely limited."

The limits of justice are most clearly discerned in relations among nations, whose lupine practices reveal the fundamental role of force. Such limits also hold, covertly, regarding the relation of the ruler to the people, whose self-regarding and "ravenous" nature is a constant threat to authority. When unrestrained by the prince, the masses inevitably lead society to "dissolution" and "the brink of destruction." Indeed, there is no real distinction between internal and external enemies. Therefore, the "force and cunning" that we applaud in one sphere cannot legitimately be condemned in the other. Rather than following the requirements of any abstract standard in this regard, we might arrive at the truth of what Machiavelli says by contemplating what is implied in the praise of the Caesarian leaders in history , whose "heavy hands were placed more often on the hilts of their swords than on the charters of their states."

"Have you ever seen a single state conduct itself according to the principles that govern private morality?" Machiavelli asks Montesquieu. What obtains in the real world remains the standard for Machiavelli and this is what prompts such a rhetorical question. The vulgar criticisms of The Prince that judge politics by other principles amount to nothing more than "childish" reproaches. Indeed, a politics guided by "private morality" is not only ineffective, it also brings disaster, for the necessities of political life -- unless addressed with cunning and force -- will sooner or later make themselves felt.

As a final provocation to Montesquieu, Machiavelli retracts the patriotic statements he had earlier made in his defense and which proved so pleasing to Montesquieu. He defends the justice of despotism for a country that lacked the capacity "to conceive and respect the conditions of free life." He thereby disavows his lifelong efforts on behalf of a republican cause. Having confessed his failure in his life's enterprise, he cleverly ends the First Dialogue with praise of Montesquieu as the "legislator of nations." Montesquieu is moved by this praise to a fuller articulation of his own political principles, which, in his lifetime, brought him the celebrity and practical influence that escaped Machiavelli.

Montesquieu's Correction of Machiavelli

Montesquieu initially responds to Machiavelli with confident condescension. In effect, this restatement of Machiavellianism is "old hat." There is really nothing "new" in all this. Machiavelli's menacing posture, which Montesquieu sees as intending to shock him, appears farcical. To this point, Machiavelli's discourse has been less than "philosophic," according to Montesquieu. Indeed, if the conversation is to continue in any meaningful way, it must be raised to a higher theoretical level where the ultimate "principles" of what Machiavelli says regarding the foundations of political life are investigated and understood in a more rigorous and consistent fashion.

Montesquieu charges that Machiavelli is not a great theoretician, implying that he, the poor debater, is. Machiavelli is "above all a political man," more impressed by "facts" than "ideas." According to the Frenchman, The Prince is unlike The Spirit of the Laws in having no universally applicable political teaching. As Machiavelli earlier stated, The Prince is more a chronicle of sixteenth century Italy, the value of which is limited, though revealingly depicted by one who was an active participant in the politics of his time.

Machiavelli expresses little patience with considerations of what transcends this world and the effectual workings of its politics. Accordingly, Montesquieu stresses the realism of his position even as he challenges Machiavelli's views on the utter irrelevance of morality for politics. What will make it possible for Montesquieu to bring decency and realism together is the argument that the world has changed. The horizon of The Prince is no longer adequate for modern times. "Eternal truths" cannot be derived from what applies only to a given moment in a long historical process. According to Montesquieu, Machiavellianism is passe, even granting that it could ever be theoretically justified. Indeed, a look to the real world confirms its irrelevance.

According to Montesquieu, the Machiavellian position, just articulated, grants "no place" to "morals, religion, or justice." This reduces political life, what is in fact unique to human beings, to the animal world. For this reason, the role of "force and cunning," the two words ever on Machiavelli's tongue, receives preponderate influence in what could more accurately be called the law of the jungle. Montesquieu does not quibble with the fact that "force plays a great role in human affairs" and that "cunning is a prerequisite for statesmen." This "needs no demonstration." He rather questions the exclusive part Machiavelli reserves for them in politics.

The more "theoretical" Montesquieu would caution the "practical" Machiavelli to be cognizant of certain fundamental principles that are inextricably involved in any discussion of the foundations of political life. If he intend"set up violence as a principle and cunning as a maxim of government," we in effect lose contact with the human world and enter the animal world where 'justice" does give way to "brute force." Not even Machiavelli goes so far in such a crude reductionism. If he does not recognize the question of justice as central to politics, he does recognize a distinction between "good and evil" as relevant to the political realm and human affairs. From a moral point of view, the problem is that the relationship between "good" and "evil" is much more ambiguous than most people realize or admit.

According to Machiavelli, "good can come from evil." This is revealed most fully in the investigation of political origins, for these show the roots of morality to lie in immorality. As Machiavelli puts it, the ground of 'justice" lies in its "negation" -- force. But Montesquieu is not content with this simple point and intends to explore this assertion in a more rigorous fashion. This will bring into better focus certain presumptions behind the Machiavellian political view that Montesquieu now claims to be not only inapplicable to the present day but without theoretical foundations.

According to Montesquieu, a political teaching that would sanction any act -- including corruption, violence, or murder, just because it is deemed "necessary," "useful," or "advantageous" is untenable. Principles that could guide political life can not be derived from such a position. Indeed, a society could not even be constituted, let alone maintained, among individuals who always acted selfishly. If Machiavelli were consistent, he would have to admit as much.

In fact, what Machiavelli permits the rulers, he forbids in the ruled. What is a "virtue" for the one is a "crime" for the other. Machiavelli's "morality" is the "morality" of the strong, or rather, it is the view that the strong, by virtue of their station, are exempt from morality insofar as it is embodied in certain rules, both written and unwritten, that guide the weak or many. Therefore, Machiavellianism, properly understood, applies narrowly and only to the few. Any "maxims" derived from his teaching must be understood accordingly and not, as Montesquieu says, as universally applicable "principles."

According to Montesquieu, the "force" that Machiavelli sees as the basis of society is but an "exception in the conduct of orderly societies." It is not called into playas part of the ordinary operation of society but is confined to the ruler's discretion at truly exceptional and dire moments. Montesquieu himself does recognize overriding "reasons of state" but not in the manner of Machiavelli, who sees in them broad sanction for rulers to act outside the dictates of justice. He refuses to follow the Machiavellian line of reasoning that "posits as the basis of society that which destroys it. "

A closer examination of these extreme moments indicates that precisely when rulers are forced to violate the ordinary rules of society, the spirit of justice is invoked. "Even the most arbitrary powers are obliged to seek sanction in considerations foreign to the theory of force," The extreme situation in fact does not reveal the naked datum of interest, of which Machiavelli speaks, but the continued relevance of moral ends, considerations of the common good (if not the explicit rules that normally apply), that alone can guide and redeem any legitimate application of force.

The pursuit of Machiavellian self-interest by princes or peoples leads to crimes that spell the dissolution of society. Montesquieu, on the other hand, does not expose himself to such consequences when he gives justice as the basis of society. As a more cogent examination of the extreme situation reveals, justice is an "idea" that "sets limits" beyond which state interest "must not pass" -- if rule is to endure and in fact avoid the very degeneration of society which, according to Machiavelli, only despotic force can arrest.

Montesquieu's defense of morality is made in the name of the "self-preservation" of society, that is, the same grounds on which Machiavelli rests his theory of force. To neglect the dictates of justice is tantamount to introducing "civil war" into "the bosom of society." Machiavelli does not serve the principle of order in exempting princes from a morality that necessarily guides the behavior of private citizens. Furthermore, there is nothing "doubtful or obscure" about its precepts. "They are written into all religions and are imprinted in luminous characters in the conscience of man." This is the "pure source" from which civil, political, economic, and international law must flow.

Just as there can be nothing obscure in the violence of despotism, there is likewise nothing obscure in the requirements of morality. The prince's violation of what holds universally and clearly thus has important consequences for political rule. "Stop deceiving yourself," Montesquieu adjures. "Each act of usurpation by the prince in the public domain authorizes a similar infraction where the subject is concerned. Each act of political treason engenders the same in society at large. Each act of violence in high places legitimates one in low." Contradicting Machiavelli, Montesquieu concludes by categorically asserting that "princes can not permit themselves what private morality does not permit."

Machiavelli is not only being logically inconsistent in offering as a "principle" of politics what applies only narrowly to princes. He offers as "maxims" for political action what in fact destroys the order of society he seeks to preserve. In concerning himself only with "facts" that apply in the real world, Machiavelli claimed to be scientific in his approach to politics. Montesquieu, however, can claim that it is really he who is faithful to the spirit of modern thought that Machiavelli pioneered. His conclusion about morality and politics is based exclusively on logic and empirical evidence that avoids the abstract theorizing that characterized pre-modern thought.

It becomes increasingly clear that historicist presumptions are the basis of Montesquieu 's view of Machiavelli. For all of Machiavelli's claims for himself as embracing the spirit of modern thought, his defense of princely politics bespeaks a defense of an historical order, pivotal indeed for the evolution of modernity, but historically dated from Montesquieu's later and more inclusive perspective on the character of man's development. In a gentlemanly but still condescending manner, Montesquieu exonerates the sanguinary views of his interlocutor as due to limitations of history , not of mind.

As an apologist for the princely politics of his time, Machiavelli speaks from a point of view where the necessity of order often predominated over the ordinary rules of justice. Machiavelli admires "great men," who presided over such moments and stamped their personality on whole epochs. Through personal rule, they wielded the force necessary to bring order out of chaos. On the other hand, Montesquieu admires "great institutions only." These are the by-product of the progress of reason which has slowly changed the character of history and politics to the point where order is guaranteed only in the advance of justice and the popular cause. .'As enlightenment has spread among the diverse peoples of Europe, justice has been substituted for force in theory and practice."

To Machiavelli, Montesquieu's concern for justice bespeaks the vestiges of ancient theory. Being guided by such lights inevitably leads to practices that are antithetical to the political necessity that always operates on human society and is neglected at our common peril. For Montesquieu, the institutions he admires have rationalized society and terminated the era of great men whose contributions to society are much more ambiguous than Machiavelli would want to admit. Their Machiavellian practices might be exonerated in certain instances during Machiavelli's own time. They now have been effectively neutralized by a new political science that has sought, through the complex play of institutions, a more effective organization of political society than the strictly hierarchical arrangements of the past.

According to Montesquieu, the fate of whole peoples is no longer tied to the personality of a given individual. Man has advanced as history has advanced and such a tutelage that formerly existed is no longer appropriate to his present condition. Therefore, Montesquieu tells Machiavelli, .'if you could say in your time that despotism was a necessary evil, you could not say so today." So powerful is the hold of reason and so irreversible is the progress of history that "among the principal peoples of Europe, despotism has become impossible." At the beginning of this Dialogue, Montesquieu had attributed to Machiavelli a crude reductionist view of man. His own view is one that moves in an opposite direction and speaks of man's perfectibility, not in a transcendent image of ancient philosophy, but "in fact," as empirically verified by the progressive march of history.

Because of his faith in history, Montesquieu can be more sanguine and tolerant in the face of "crimes committed in the name of liberty." The anarchy that was a constant political possibility for Machiavelli indicated to him the eternal possibility for despotism. Popular uprisings are no longer anathema for Montesquieu but may serve history in its transition to a higher stage of development. [5] In more enlightened times, such turmoil bespeaks the changed character of the people and it marks the distance from the despotism that reigns in the Orient, "where people doze peacefully in the degradation of slavery." In the next Dialogue, Montesquieu explains his own contribution to enlightened politics and the advance of political science.

The opening of the Third Dialogue reminds the reader of the eerie context of the conversation as well as its precariousness. Montesquieu is protective of his interlocutor lest they be separated in the continual migration of souls that marks this hell. It is perhaps a measure of his interest and confidence at this particular point that he is so solicitous that his conversation with Machiavelli continues. Nothing that Machiavelli has said has shaken him and he probably relishes the thought of besting him in their evolving dispute. Such solicitude also bespeaks the skill of Machiavelli in so sedulously engaging such a reluctant interlocutor to the conversation he wanted.

Later in the very same Dialogue, we learn that Montesquieu has passed most of his time in hell with people from the ancient world. He has only recently come into contact with modern souls and these have "arrived from the distant corners of the universe." They have not been very informative about the most recent happenings in Europe and France, matters close to Montesquieu's heart.
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:41 am

Part 2 of 2

Montesquieu's Political Teaching

Montesquieu is anxious to defend his statement about the utter impossibility of despotism taking root in modern times -- which is certainly his most provocative proposition. This naturally leads to a discussion of his own formidable contributions to a political science that designs the institutions of government in such a way as to counter despotic ambitions. "If anything can alleviate my anxiety in the hours before the Last Judgment, it is the thought that my time on earth had something to do with this great emancipation," he states. Machiavelli has succeeded in having his conversation with Montesquieu by turning his interlocutor's thoughts away from his unhappy lot here in hell to "sweeter" ruminations, namely, the beneficent role he played in furthering the emancipation of man.

Machiavellli asserts that he is fully conversant with the thought of Montesquieu in his most famous work. However, he sees a discrepancy between what the Montesquieu of The Spirit of the Laws says and what the Montesquieu who stands before him says with respect to the present impossibility of despotism. If Montesquieu has accused Machiavelli of being less than rigorous in his pretensions to science, Machiavelli, in turn, accuses Montesquieu of loose talk in "overstating the implications of principles found in The Spirit of the Laws. According to Machiavelli, who has apparently taken great pains to come to know the thought contained in Montesquieu's books, the teaching of The Spirit of the Laws is not so sanguine about the meager prospects for despotism.

In his own defense, Montesquieu claims to have "avoided elaborating long theories" in The Spirit of the Laws, a book known for its terse but elegant style. What he currently holds is not at all at odds with that work and can easily be deduced "from the principles there posited." Moreover, he adds, what he has subsequently learned in hell prior to his encounter with Machiavelli has reinforced his optimism. Presumably, the modern men "from the most remote corners of the world" have not been untouched by several of his ideas, nor have they been immune to the general movement of history. He will not go so far as to say that despotism is now incompatible with the conditions of all peoples but it is emphatically so in most of the western part of Europe, including France, where enlightenment has settled the politics of a fomlerly turbulent country. Of course, Montesquieu's optimism would be tested and his theories modified were he aware of the latest happenings in his own land.

Machiavelli, who is not at all ignorant in this regard, immediately suspects the deficiency of Montesquieu's historical knowledge, which, by his probing, stands fully revealed at the end of this Dialogue. Given the conditions that now characterize France, Montesquieu's optimism is comprehensible only in light of his crucial ignorance. The course of Machiavelli's conversation with Montesquieu is profoundly altered by this revelation.

For his part, Montesquieu remains unperturbed in the face of a lacuna of only fifteen years (1847-1864). [6] Such a period of time is not long enough to change the direction of history and so alter the prospects for despotism in enlightened Europe. In fact, "centuries are necessary to change the principles and forms of government under which people have been accustomed to live." Given modern developments and the change in the character of peoples that has occurred subsequent to the era of Machiavelli, "the doctrines of Machiavelli certainly would not be the ones that triumph" in the short span of years in the most recent past.

Montesquieu is given ample opportunity to elaborate the principles and forms of government that attain in enlightened times. He iterates the fact that it is to institutions, not to men, that we owe progress in "liberty and "morals." "All the good, indeed all the bad, which redounds to man in society, necessarily depends on the correct or incorrect ordering of institutions." This is immensely important in understanding the development of civilization, he avers. The "political ills" man endures are a function of "theoretical and practical ignorance." Their "cure" lies in "enlightenment," primarily in education of the people as to their rights and the "fundamental principles of organizing political power." The reason for Montesquieu's optimism is grounded in his belief in the power of reason to affect history in bringing about the progressive betterment of man 's condition.

Montesquieu is emphatic in distinguishing the spirit of his political science from that of "those deplorable reformers who claim to found societies on a purely rational ~sis." He approves of the "fine words of Solon" and speaks, like the great ancient founder, only of the "the most perfect institutions that people are able to support." The organization of political society is not made in a vacuum but is fully consonant with the "climate, habits, customs, and even prejudices" that form the people. Contrary to what Machiavelli thinks, the prudence so evident in the eminent author of The Spirit of the Laws is not abandoned to any exaggerated hopes or claims, nor is it based on any hypothetical or abstract application of reason unguided by the conditions of time or place.

Montesquieu 's idea of progress can best be appreciated against the backdrop of Machiavelli 's own time, which, Montesquieu intimates, fundamentally limits and defines the views of his interlocutor. Machiavelli was born "at the end of the Middle Ages," which was only the first dawning of modern times, a period that was "still quite infected with barbarism." Anarchy and despotism were but two sides of the same coin, a product of the theoretical and practical ignorance in which nations had been for so long for want of principles that The Spirit of the Laws refined into a science. The growing influence of such a work guaranteed the spread of reason in Europe and beyond.

In Machiavelli's time, "sovereignty rested solely in the person of the prince," who had at his disposition the unlimited exercise of absolute authority. All power was concentrated in the hands of an individual who considered himself "a preordained divinity" to whom "the human race was delivered." This thinking gave rise to an arbitrary rule that could only be tyrannical. The precariousness of a social order based on such foundations invited anarchy from a populace which could so easily be dispossessed of their "goods," "rights," and very "persons." Liberties and public rights that did exist were fragile and rested on the better motives of some rulers, the spirit of moderation among certain kings, or their fear of angering the people.

Indeed, anarchy, pure and simple, defined the world of Machiavelli. It existed in a most barbarous manner among nations where "kingdoms were the prey of conquerors." But it also existed within states and manifested itself in the wars of sovereigns with their vassals, often claiming whole cities, the seeds of civilization, as victim. These were bold and tumultuous times, replete with "intrepid commanders, men of iron, and audacious geniuses," that could appeal to the artistic imagination if not to any refined moral sensibilities. And this, according to Montesquieu, is what explains the lively, brazen character of The Prince. [7]

Today, sovereignty is understood differently. An assertion of its prerogatives no longer finds such violent expression. lt is based on the principle of equality, an idea perhaps strangely new to the ears of Machiavelli. People now "regard themselves as the arbiters of their destinies." The strictly stratified society of the Middle Ages which separates subjects from rulers in the manner of men from gods has been replaced by one which, "in theory and practice," has destroyed "privilege and aristocracy." In contrast to "the principle of sovereignty" that "rested solely in the person of the prince," allusion is made to a different notion of sovereignty -- popular sovereignty, the proper understanding of which and what it entails will shortly become the main point of contention.

The advance of the principle of equality can be traced from the "beginnings" when institutions and laws were traditional, primitive, and narrowly conceived. First, "personal rights were secured by civil laws." Gained by the "ancestral blood," these changed the status of subject to citizen, according to each individual the same privileges and immunities vis-a-vis one another. What measure of protection and tranquility that the citizen gained thereby was succeeded by advances in "public right." Developments in international law, hardly known to Machiavelli, today "regulates the relations among nations as civil law regulates the relations of subjects in each nation." Unlike Machiavelli's time, conquerors are no longer permitted to despoil the property of the conquered. Beyond such minimal guarantees, treaties and conventions further refine relations among nations and define areas of rights and mutual interest.

A rational politics sees perhaps its greatest advance in the establishment of constitutions, which in turn exhibit their own progressive refinements. It is this later development that orders affairs between the people and their rulers and establishes modern political right on a firm basis. "The person of the prince ceases to be confounded with the notion of the state." The source of sovereignty is transferred to the "very heart of the nation." This allows the people to determine as is convenient a whole new distribution and arrangement of powers between the prince and other political bodies.

Montesquieu does not need to elaborate the details of his political science, embodied in the constitutional regimes of France and England, to such "an illustrious statesman." In simple terms, it features a separation and balance of essential governmental powers. Government is institutionally divided according to function into three branches that are endowed with the interest and power to resist each other's encroachments. The "blending of powers," which formerly permitted princes to "make tyrannical Jaws and to execute them tyrannically," is thereby thwarted. In brief, government is made responsive to the people. This solves the "primary problem" and the foremost political question by determining the issue of ultimate sovereignty. Secondarily, the operations of government are so arranged that possible abuses of power are frustrated -- mechanistically" -- through checks upon each other. This assumes that the government, which the people ultimately control, also controls itself in its daily operations.

It is the nature of human beings, from considerations of pride and insecurity, to seek an extension of their power. Montesquieu shares the realistic views of Machiavelli in wanting to build upon this most basic human proclivity in his system of government and use such anti-social dispositions to the advantage of society as a whole. In his political science, we might dispense with a too pre carious reliance on the better motives of rulers to serve the interests of the ruled. Power will be limited by erecting effective countervailing power.

According to Montesquieu, "at all times" and no matter what the political regime, society "is always governed by laws." Therefore, it is in the way "the laws are made" that are found all the guarantees of the citizens. Here, Montesquieu effectively reverses the Machiavellian dictum that "the end justifies the means." The "means," that is, the formal procedure of lawmaking in the well-founded regime, is itself in large measure determinative of the "ends," the protection of the rights of the individual.

The principle of the separation of powers, by which "internal public right was created," is actually a very sophisticated device to ensure that laws are framed, executed, and judged by separate institutions or powers and according to recognized procedures. In such a system of government, the private interest of a given group or individual, whose motives are always suspect, can not find effective means to fulfillment. Because he has the means to effect his own personal will, the individual who makes the law and judges in his own case can be suspected of partiality. For this reason, the lawmaking function is divorced from that of judging. On the other hand, the executive may rightfully enforce the law but only in accord with legislation duly passed by the proper lawmaking body. Conversely, the legislature may pronounce the law in general terms but can not arbitrarily punish or benefit an individual. Security for the individual is thus presumed in the very arrangement and operation of the different powers of government. This has an important influence on political behavior. A tranquility of spirit is bred in the citizenry at large when it perceives its rights to be safeguarded by the due process of law. This conduces to a moderate and civil politics that was formerly preserved through moral appeals and a severe civic education.

Montesquieu's scheme is meant to correct a political problem that Enlightenment science rendered difficult. In former times, reverence for the law was assured by an appeal to divine sanctions, whose authority was premised in the myths of the founding or, as in later Christian times, the divine right of kings. The advance of secular philosophy precludes recourse to such precepts and supports in modern liberal regimes, where the "human all too human" character of the law is evident in its very origins and daily administration. Nevertheless, an abiding respect for the law emerges from Montesquieu's political science in its capacity to guarantee the law's impartiality. The operative principle behind Montesquieu's political science -- "that no one is higher than the law" -- endows the constitution and statutes, duly passed by the people, with legitimacy, if not sanctity. In modern times, the claim of the law over the individual approximates the hold it had over man in ancient polities where "the conditions of free government were admirably understood." [8]

The prudence of Montesquieu is again demonstrated in his suspicion of not only princely ambitions at odds with the people but in unmediated popular rule. Though ultimate sovereignty rests with the people through their duly elected representatives, the popular assembly itself is properly tempered and controlled through its relations with the other institutions of government. The regime is envisioned as "mixed." Aristocratic, monarchic, and democratic elements are given expression in the various branches of government and in a "happy compromise," some of the strengths of the three forms of government are combined at once. The proper balance of these elements depends on circumstance and can be applied "in a thousand ways according to the temperament of the people."

Given the establishment of enlightened government, liberty and progress are further assured by a free press -- the public voice. This is not only for the important watchdog purposes it serves. It also reflects a fundamental Enlightenment premise that posits a harmony between matters of the mind and the interests of society. To their mutual benefit, reason is allowed access to society. The hostility of politics to reason marks the barbarism of the past and is the hallmark of despotism that would resist its humanizing influence. In contrast, openness to reason is the very "essence of free countries." A free press helps establish and maintain an informed and vigilant citizenry, upon which ultimate authority rests. The vestiges of primitive thought and fear are eliminated through the spread of reason and, with them, the violent behavior they often inspire. Technological advances -- the fruits of Enlightenment science -- further communications among the citizenry and eradicate backwardness. The exchange of ideas and goods is facilitated, increasing the easy interactions among peoples and their common ties. The people come to share a common purpose in the material advance of society and the defense of individual rights. It was thought that they would act wisely, drawn to an elevated view of their self-interest by a free and responsible press.

The success of the Enlightenment project in the advanced states of Europe makes it increasingly difficult for other countries to preserve themselves from its influence. The ideas of the former are imported with their trade. This promotes the unity of peoples that religions had formerly separated. There seems to be nothing in Enlightenment science that prevents the universal application of its principles. Machiavelli sees Montesquieu as proposing England's experience as "a universal panacea," given his statement that it has "the only practicable mode of government given the ideas of modern civilization."

Notes

1. Montesquieu refers to Machiavelli as ''ce grand homme" in the The Spirit of the Laws VI 5. He is mentioned again at XXIX 19 in a shon chapter "Of Legislators." There he is grouped with Aristotle, Plato, More, and Harrington. The tone of the chapter is critical. Passion and prejudice infect the minds of even the grandest lawgivers. Machiavelli stands for criticism for being "full of his idol, the Duke of Valentinois."

2. Undoubtedly, there is poignancy to the fate that the real Machiavelli suffered and Joly gives it its due. The author of the "Memoir of Machiavelli" that introduces the Bohn Library Edition of the Florentine's writings pushes this poignancy to a melodramatic extreme. He speaks of the return of the Medici after the fall of the Republic that Machiavelli served. A conspiracy against the Medici caused Machiavelli to fall under suspicion.

Fear and suspicion followed the secretary into retirement, and when in the course of the following year (1513), an extensive conspiracy against the Medici was accidentally discovered, he was immediately arrested and put to the torture which was at that time indiscriminately employed under all Italian governments in examining persons accused of state crimes. Six shocks of the cord were inflicted on Machiavelli with fruitless cruelty, and not a word escaped him in the bitterness of his agony that could be wrested into a confession of guilt, or serve as an accusation of others. Unable to convict him, they could still torment; and, accordingly, buried in the depths of a loathsome dungeon, his lacerated body closely bound with chains, and his mind distracted by the cries of mercy and the degradation that reached him from every side, he was left to the long torture of solitude and suspense. Here also his fortitude remained unshaken, and his noble power of patient endurance baffled the snares of his adversaries and wearied their malignity
.

The text continues in the same vein. lf this were not Machiavelli, the account might be worthy of entry into John Henry Newman's Lives of the Saints. We might paraphrase what was once said about St. Neot, who is memorialized in the pages of Newman's book. "This is all, and perhaps more than all" that is known about the "blessed" life of Machiavelli. See the "Memoir of Machiavelli" in The History of Florence Together with The Prince and Various Other Historical Tracts, ed. H. B. Bohn (London: George Bell & Sons, 1906) xiv.

3. What Albert Sorel asserts about Montesquieu accords with what Joly says here. Montesquieu "did not consider himself an orator" nor "suited to formal speech-making." And this was perhaps linked to the disdain he felt, not for the law, for sure, but the practice of law as it was conducted in his time. I want to make the following point. It seems that here, as elsewhere, Joly took pains in fleshing out even small details in the portraits he fashioned of the two philosophers.

Montesquieu considered his bashfulness "the scourge of his life." He often put up with bores and the things they said in order to escape having discussion with them. Still, this was the man that France was to make its "favorite." See Alber Sorel, Montesquieu, tr. Melvile B. Anderson and Edward Flayfair Anderson (Port Washington, N.Y.: Kennikat Press, 1969) 12ff.

4. Machiavelli implies that the Encyclopedists as well as the author of The Persian Letters are kindred spirits belonging to the same "school" which others call "immoral." If he is implying that the Persian Letters shocks certain proprieties, he might have also cited, with even better reason, Montesquieu's Temple of Gnidos.

5. Jefferson and his American progeny share the same perspective: "the tree of liberty is watered by the blood of patriots," is it not? What we today in Asia call "people power" is benignly viewed as helping history to bring more enlightened political and economic arrangements to peoples victimized by rapacious and petty tyrants. Indeed, this violent turmoil -- even lapses of legality -- are to be forgiven. They bespeak the changed character of these peoples and their receptivity to new political developments. As Machiavelli cautions, though, things might not be so simple nor the end so happy.

6. A short period of years, can, of course, radically change the direction of history. Think only of 1914-1917. Who, standing at the cusp of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries and basking in the optimism of that moment, could have predicted the catastrophes to fall? This is a sufficient response to those today who see a global order benignly falling into place. Extrapolating from statistics of trade and commerce, they mistakenly put economics before politics and therefore blind themselves to other less sanguine possibilities. Who can so blithely believe that there are no more jokers in history's cards? Is it not much more likely that, after the Cold War , the deck has just been reshuffled?

7. Montesquieu here gives voice to a common conception of Machiavelli, that is to say, that he can be explained by his times. He is a kind of artist, in perhaps the greatest "age of art." Essentially, The Prince is his portrait of the times and it is painted in the boldest and most lively colors. In chapter 9, I will argue why this interpretation of Machiavelli is inadequate. Meanwhile, what are we to make of the author of The Spirit of the Laws in the movingly intimate way he concludes the Preface to his great work?

When I have seen what so many great men in France, in England, and in Germany, have said before me, I have been lost in admiration. But I have not lost my courage. I have said with CoITeggio, "And I also am a painter."


Indeed, he too is an artist. And he painted on the broadest of canvases, it might be added. In the gallery of the '.greats," he also deserves recognition. Those who want to delve deeper in Montesqueieu's views on art, especially Renaissance art, should consult his Essay on Taste and Mes Pensees, esp. XII.

8. The case of Richard Nixon shows that, until most recently, it used to have the power of even removing presidents from power.
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:43 am

Chapter Two: AN ELABORATION OF THE RESPECTIVE POLITICAL TEACHINGS

In the Fourth Dialogue, the central Dialogue of Part One, Machiavelli begins a critique of Montesquieuan political science as well as the deeper philosophic and historic convictions upon which it is based. Machiavelli raises the key issues that are the substance of their debate in the rest of this Part. This immediately serves to further define the respective views of the two interlocutors as it ultimately deals in matters that reverberate throughout the rest of Joly's work. According to Machiavelli, Montesquieu has failed to reckon with an "irresistible movement of history that tears societies today loose from their old traditions." This makes illusory any hopes of universalizing the experience of England and making the constitutional regime a "panacea" for all states. Within two hundred years, the theories of the division of powers among the three branches of government will be no more than "a memory," something '.antiquated and obsolete" as arcane to men of the future as obscure Aristotelean doctrines are to us today. [1]

Why Montesquieuan Thought Is Obsolete

Machiavelli, like Montesquieu, sees history as moving to a new world order. It may be likened to the momentous advance of modernity, the furthest reaches of which are attained in the Enlightenment age that shapes and is shaped by Montesquieu, over the order of the Middle Ages dominated by Aristotle. Implicitly, Machiavelli reverses the accusation of Montesquieu against Machiavellianism -- that it is limited by a specific historic horizon. Speaking from a point of view even more advanced than that of the Enlightenment's most iIlustrious figure, Machiavelli sees the eternal truth of Machiavellianism once again vindicated in a new age of despots.

Machiavelli begins his attack with what Montesquieu says are longstanding reproaches against liberal government, voiced by reactionaries that benefited from the old order of things. Again, nothing much is new in what Machiavelli says. His is a standard critique of the liberal system.

Machiavelli implies that the separation of powers system, which .'confines" three powers to distinct departments and balances them off against one another in an intricate political mechanism, is overly abstract and perhaps a misapplication of a principle of physics to human realms. Strictly viewed, the balance of power "ideal," if in fact achieved, would render government inoperative. Were government to function "perfectly ," there would be nothing but exhausting stalemates. The theoretical foundations of Montesquieu's constitution is in conflict with the vigor he also intended for a government that is designed to act in the people's interest.

As Montesquieu explained his '.mixed regime," the institutions of government represent various social groups and interests, none of which is motivated by the interest of the whole. The "balance of power" among such institutions is inherently precarious, as it involves mutually antagonistic forces that, individually at least, seek their own play at the expense of the system's equilibrium. It is as if the system would be plagued by inaction where it is not subject to dissolution.

In theory, the press serves to reestablish equilibrium in the system by counteracting the disintegrative forces of faction. It elevates discourse in speaking for the common good. It sets the tone and standard of public discussion and forces the competing interests at least to justify themselves in more disinterested terms. In actual practice, Machiavelli charges, the press foments further discord by "discrediting" all authority. In effect, it gives "arms to all parties" and turns the public forum into an "arena."

According to Machiavelli, the operation of such a political system makes it most difficult to maintain peace and order among the competing interests and segments of society. Dissolution is also threatened in a more fundamental way by a more radical social cleavage. This separates those groups with a direct role and clear stake in the prevailing order from those masses of people "whose poverty chains them to their work in the same way that slavery did in former times." Montesquieu speaks of the great movement of history and the blessings it has brought in its train. It has in fact resulted in the triumph of only a small minority, whose privileges, wrought by the chance workings of new social and economic forces, are not appreciably different from those enjoyed by the nobility of medieval times, distinguished by birth.

For "huge numbers," the vaunted "rights" of the liberal order are only academic -- "a bitter irony of fate," of which the law permits their ideal enjoyment and necessity refuses their active exercise. "Parliamentary conventions" make no difference to tangible happiness, which logically seeks outlet in a despotism that can appease their real wants while satisfying their feelings of envy. According to Montesquieu, however, liberal society's declaration of rights, which Machiavelli sees as cruelly abstract for the majority of people, does have important consequences that he fails to appreciate. It is of no little importance "for those very people destined by birth to the most humble conditions" that they share in a common dignity by virtue of citizenship in such a society .Moral sentiments are attached to the regime of liberty which recognizes the self-worth of individuals. Citizens there are "no less strongly" attached to such regimes by more material interests.

Machiavelli is simply wrong to liken the privileged of such a society to an "aristocracy of birth" and the lot of the proletariat to slavery. It is a far more dynamic and fluid society than Machiavelli realizes where "the law recognizes no privileged classes and where careers are open to individual enterprise." The "ideal" rights that Machiavelli criticizes have concrete consequences. The various fortunes of individuals are by and large a manifestation of their exercise and a vindication of the protection that such a society affords the different faculties of men.

Machiavelli sums up Montesquieu's arguments and gives a perfectly fine understanding of the design of his government. We come to realize that perhaps Montesquieuan political science is "old hat" for Machiavelli. "On the surface, the society appears monarchical, but at bottom everything is democratic, for in reality there are no barriers between classes and work is the means to all fortunes." The balance of power mechanism requires artfulness in its adjustment that perhaps makes any close analogy with physics unfair. To counter the natural strength of the popular element, the other elements must be reinforced to achieve proper equilibrium. This involves certain property qualifications conferring electoral rights, using the power of opinion to back men of merit, and taking advantage of the proper strengths of the corresponding powers -- all to dilute and counteract the power of the popular body. The prestige of grand manners and the brilliance of superior rank is played up and respected. Tradition, the memory of all great historical events, and the celebration of greatness, is guarded.

The Incipient Anarchy in Modern Principles

Having secured an admission from Montesquieu that he can at least understand thoughts he doesn't agree with, Machiavelli accuses Montesquieu of not appreciating the full consequences of his own principles. These bring in their train the reign of force and not the reign of reason he projects. In particular, Machiavelli has in mind the principle of popular sovereignty. Adumbrated earlier in their discussion, such a notion of sovereignty was offered as an alternative to the principle of "divine right" upon which rested the princely politics of Machiavelli's time. In broaching such a topic, Machiavelli attempts to make explicit a matter that goes to the heart of their discussion as well as The Spirit of the Laws itself, which he believes is intentionally vague on this point.

The "prudent, politic Montesquieu" did not spell out the doctrine of popular sovereignty in The Spirit of the Laws. But, mimicking Montesquieu of only a few moments ago, Machiavelli states that "certain things follow implicitly from the principles" he set down there. Despite Montesquieu 's disavowal of any association with "radical reformers," the affinity of his doctrines with Rousseau's Social Contract and revolutionary theory of the general will is unmistakable, at least according to Machiavelli.

The French revolutionaries based themselves on such theories when they wrote that "a constitution can only be a free compact among equals." Inspired by such thought, the people took direct possession of all powers that had been recognized as only ultimately and indirectly residing in them. The year 1793 demonstrates how the people asserted their sovereignty "by severing the head of the king." Making a litter of all their "rights," they cast their lot, out of delirium and weariness, to "the first soldier of fortune they came across."

Under the full sway of the principle of popular sovereignty, all the latent forces of the masses are marshaled, spelling "death" to parliamentary government. The intricate mechanism of the balance of power is too fragile and is overwhelmed by an irresistible force that is not in its control. Deference to tradition and the respect for forms that is critical to the workings of enlightened government disappears in the Machiavellian portrait of the modern masses. Ominously, the renewed activation of their power, in a repeat of '93, augurs a more virulent anarchy as well as a more extreme form of despotism as the fate of contemporary man.

Machiavelli says as much to Montesquieu in delineating the course of history in France since the principle of popular sovereignty made itself felt in the Revolution. Aristocratic monarchy was in too flagrant contradiction with the democratic thrust of history. It had to vanish in the "conflagration of 1830, as the government of 1830, in its own right. ..." Machiavelli concludes his historic discourse with a tantalizing allusion to the Revolution of 1848. The July Monarchy was attacked as a "pious fraud" in presenting itself as a popularly grounded kingship. After a revolutionary moment, a brief return to republican government was finally supplanted by the "democratic despotism" of the Empire that presented itself, as we shall see, as the authoritative fulfillment of popular will.

Machiavelli here seems to present a cyclical view of history as an alternative to Montesquieu's linear and progressive view. The "inevitable path" of nations that have popular sovereignty as their animating principle is to engender a demagoguery that leads to anarchy and finally to despotism. Since despotism is barbarity to Montesquieu, the people, it seems, "return to barbarism via civilization" -- a process that runs directly counter to the forces of history as Montesquieu sees them.

Despotism is not only an eternal possibility .According to Machiavelli, it seems to be an inevitable occurrence. The popular excesses and licentiousness that accompany the degeneration of popular rule demand a return to authoritarianism. The history of France manifests a cyclical passage through the extremes of popular and despotic rule. Enlightenment politics, personified by Montesquieu, has perhaps only broadened out this cycle and temporarily slowed its revolutionary turn toward despotism. But as the Dialogue augurs, this may finally lead to a precipitous return to a more profound and extensive tyranny.

From still other points of view, despotism is the only form of government that is appropriate to the social conditions of modern people. According to Machiavelli, ancient polities, above all, provide the proper soil for liberty. There, citizen concerns came to the fore, as manual labor was assigned to slaves. The fires of patriotism burned in ancient souls and found outlet in external war that preserved internal peace in uniting all in a common enterprise of overriding urgency and importance. The conflict that moderns experience between their worldly and religious engagements was unknown to the ancients. The dictates of morality were neither conflicting nor vague. [2] A civil religion, rich in ceremony, held sway over the minds and imaginations of men and reinforced their political education. Self-rule was possible because a stern morality guaranteed against its abuse.

Machiavelli sees despotism as the destiny of modern peoples because the social conditions that preserved liberty are currently absent. Christianity has tamed the martial spirit and eradicated the institution of slavery, perhaps forever. Materialism and atheism have usurped its place and cosmopolitanism has replaced patriotism. Liberty has existed even into the Christian era but in smaller, more austere republics. The scale of modern society, moreover, is immense and open to diverse influences that conflict with the dictates of citizen virtue. Politics vacillates between impassioned fanaticism and cold indifference, both of which can be exploited by the clever despot.

Material interests demonstrably do not attach people to liberty, as Montesquieu says. The dispossessed are motivated only by hatred and envy of the propertied, who resort to force to maintain themselves. Under such conditions, patriotism suffocates and "morality can no longer be guaranteed except by repressive laws." Modern societies, "veritable colossuses with feet of clay," require extreme centralization where all movements of individuals can be minutely regulated. A return to Caesarism is in order, as Machiavelli ends his discussion with a most provocative praise of administrative despotism as most fitting the requirements of the time.

When Machiavelli talks so authoritatively about the state of contemporary morals, Montesquieu wonders if he is speaking hypothetically. He remains convinced that a look to history would produce evidence decidedly on the side of his theories. In the previous Dialogue, Machiavelli spoke from the example of France, bringing the beloved fatherland of Montesquieu to the fore. For the sake of argument, they may continue to use France as the touchstone of their conversation. [3]

Montesquieu is far from reluctant to agree, for it is precisely in France that the picture Machiavelli has drawn is least applicable. "The home of great ideas and passions" leaves no room for the "sinister doctrines" of Machiavelli. Privy to a new political doctrine, (of which more will be said later in discussing the ideological core of the Napoleonic revolution), Machiavelli would add that France is perhaps not only noteworthy for a still vibrant legacy of ideas, it is also "a field of experiment" devoted to political theories more ominous than imagined.

Such a cryptic illusion to new doctrines is beyond Montesquieu who can not conceive of an experiment advancing despotism that could take root in contemporary Europe. Even where pure monarchy has been preserved from the influences of liberal institutions, in Turkey and Russia, for example, we may detect, at least in the "internal changes taking place in the heart" of this latter power, "intimations of an approaching transformation." In the final analysis, the forces for change favor the transformation of oriental despotism into liberal polities and not the contrary process which, Machiavelli asserts, needs less than a century to work itself out fully.

The Historical Basis of Montesquieu's Optimism

Montesquieu states why he thinks such a prediction absurd. He imputes such gross errors to a mistaken conception of history, a way of thinking common to the medieval horizon that still included Machiavelli's world. He warns Machiavelli against drawing false inferences from the use of certain historic analogies. For Machiavelli, it seems, the course of French history from the anarchy following the French Revolution to the institution of the despotism of Napoleon I is being repeated in contemporary France. Accordingly, the assault on the settlement of 1830 might be likened to that of 1793 for having failed to reconcile the principle of monarchic legitimacy with popular liberty. Machiavelli's fondness for such analogies stems from his cyclical view of history which seeks enlightened guidance for the present in the study of similar situations in the past.

According to Montesquieu, however, we "must beware of taking what is contingent for universal laws and of transforming what is particular to certain times and places into general rules. Contrary to Machiavelli, each historical situation is unique and specific to time and place. Despotism and force is not an absolute historical necessity but more an "accident" in an historical process beyond the comprehension of one whose understanding is essentially limited by the Middle Ages.

Despotism "has played a transitional role in history." The cyclical view of history can not account for a broader and more fundamental historical tendency toward "progress" and perfection -- what is truly inevitable and irreversible as "a foreordained social law." For sure, despotism has occurred at times in the past ''as a consequence of social upheavals." But it is impermissible to conclude from this that it will definitively solve the "crises of modern times," as Machiavelli sees them. Rather, the general tendency of history reveals our astonishing capacity to better our condition. Montesquieu has not been sufficiently impressed by the proportions of the historic crisis that Machiavelli has intimated. As rational beings, we have been granted powers commensurate to the evils we find and this applies to the problems identified by Machiavelli as defining modern life.

Collectively, we are participants in a divine drama guided by "Eternal wisdom," which reveals itself in history through the thought of the "great historic thinker." The Montesquieuan teaching holds to an idealist, progressive view of history. Ultimately, its movement is a necessary consequence of the movement in ideas, which are made concrete in the political world as they are "translated into fact." His essential optimism can be traced to the powers of reason and its capacity to shape history. It is based on a faith in the working out of a plan of an "Eternal Wisdom" that providentially guides the destiny of man. Indeed, Montesquieu sees himself as a key figure in the unfolding historic drama as the thinker who stands at the pinnacle of the Enlightenment. It is his theories -- "translated into fact" -- that define the modern epoch as the era of constitutional government, bringing an end to the era of princely politics.

Machiavelli implies that Montesquieu is overly optimistic about the powers of reason to change the limits that define our condition. A society may in fact survive a certain crisis but one day it must "die." Political regimes, too, are mortal and subject to life cycles similar to that of man. It therefore follows that infinite progress and indeed perfection are beyond the possible. We are limited by a more fundamental reality that is Machiavelli's guide in his efforts to propound a truly realistic teaching -- one that discounts any reliance on "faith," even in the secularized way it is rendered in Montesquieu's teaching.

Machiavelli's short but poignant reminder of the mortality of all human things leaves Montesquieu nonplussed. He once again warns against placing oneself at "the extreme," in the manner of Machiavelli, who takes political crisis as the starting point of his theories. Moreover, he seizes upon the "organic" analogy of Machiavelli to elaborate upon his view of the historic process. According to Montesquieu, "societies never die in the process of generation." The "death" of societies is only apparent; their vital forces give rise to more sturdy progeny before they pass from existence. "In this way, the various peoples of Europe have been successively transformed from a feudal to a monarchic system and from a pure monarchy to a constitutional regime."

One can not derive valid maxims from "analogies" between such epochs because, no matter how related in certain particulars, they each have their own essential personality or character. Machiavelli seems to equate all epochs and this flies in the face of historic diversity as well as a more fundamental tendency toward progress. In sum, the demands for order that can be satisfied at one moment only by despotism do not hold in the context of later epochs. Despotism, where relevant to the historic process, does not hold in the less than extreme situation, nor, certainly, in the context of the present time.

Montesuieu claims to catch Machiavelli in a contradiction. How can Machiavelli, who posits the eternal necessity for despotism, praise liberty "in certain times and places?" Montesquieu's praise of liberty is without qualification. Breathing the air of liberty, whether in ancient or modern times, strengthens the soul and elevates the character of citizens. Liberty is not a poison for political life but its strongest regimen. Contrary to Machiavelli, then, despotism is not a historical necessity, but a transitional phase, an evanescent moment in the historical process. On the other hand, liberty is not only appropriate to certain brief moments in ancient and some modern times, but precisely to contemporary times, where the institutional operation of government is specifically designed to secure its blessings as its chief end.

With Montesquieu, we might wonder at the Florentine's inconsistency as he acknowledges his interlocutor's deft sallies. His position as to despotism, qualified by a praise of liberty, is put to question. At this point, he changes the conversation once again to the topic of popular sovereignty, the full thrust of which he feels Montesquieu is escaping by the tangential matters they are now considering. Once again, however, the question of the "real" Machiavelli presents itself, especially with regard to liberty.

Machiavelli confesses he is anxious to see how the "sober" Montesquieu will deal with the principle of popular sovereignty, a "specter" that haunts his theories. He asks point blank and in accusatorial tones whether or not it is part of his system: "Do you or do you not accept it?" For reasons that shortly will become clear, Montesquieu admits that he can not answer such a question "posed in such terms." But before answering, he would like to remind Machiavelli of his writings and the character of his mission. Being a "philosopher who proceeded so prudently in his quest for the truth," he takes great umbrage with a former accusation leveled by Machiavelli that associates his name with the "iniquities of the French Revolution."

How Machiavelli understands that great upheaval is key to his thinking about the prospects for despotism. By implication, the historical cycle that saw the popular cause degenerate into Napoleonic despotism is being repeated in France. It is interesting to note that Montesquieu asserts the centrality of those very same events to his own political theories. "I saw into all the practical consequences" that would emerge from this event. Fully conscious of a new Napoleonic Empire, Machiavelli has a fundamentally different perspective from Montesquieu, who saw in his science the definitive antidote to revolutionary excesses. [4]

The Revolution & Montesquieu's Constructive Role in History

According to Montesquieu, the case of the French Revolution is the clearest vindication of his theories in demonstrating the preeminent role of reason in history. In his view, the French Revolution was a transitional phase in the historic process that, no matter how violent or despotic, served "to sweep away the ancient forms of monarchical government." But "while imprudent innovators directly attacked the foundations of authority and unknowingly prepared a momentous catastrophe," Montesquieu single-mindedly applied himself "to the study of free governments to discover the fundamental principles upon which they rest." He was acting more in the capacity of "statesman" than "philosopher" in seeking to teach his country how to govern itself rather than "calling into question the very principle of authority."

The task that Montesquieu gave himself was constructive, not destructive. Though both apparently are historically necessary, it is the constructive task that endures, at least according to the optimistic view of Montesquieu. The moment that follows the French Revolution sets for Montesquieu a different historic project in a different historic context, shaped by different needs and circumstances. The principle of popular sovereignty is legitimately voiced in the moment "of intellectual ferment" that prepared the revolution and opened the way for Montesquieu's teaching. However, the direct application of that principle in the context of the ordinary operations of government would be tantamount to social and political dynamite.

Indeed, if political life and liberty are to endure, "calling into question the very principle of authority" must be deflected and popular will moderated by measures requisite to stability. This is why Montesquieu is so circumspect in answering Machiavelli's blunt question. The liberty of which Montesquieu speaks is an "ordered liberty" and his institutions are designed to secure its blessings.

Montesquieu prefers the term "national sovereignty" to "popular sovereignty" to designate the principle that informs his government. "National sovereignty" comprehends the existence of groups, including "the more enlightened classes of society ," which deserve protection for the contribution they uniquely bring to a diverse, productive, and plural nation. According to .'this idea," sovereignty is not determined by direct recourse to the authority of the people. This is the politics of the French Revolution that leads to violent disorder. What is involved here is a .'crucial distinction" between a "pure democracy and one that is representative."

In Montesquieu's understanding, the people's will is refined by representation. Lawmakers are insulated from the immediate pressures of the people and are given an opportunity to resolve the interests of competing groups from broader and more informed perspectives. While the franchise assures the people that their representatives will be responsive to their particular interests, a too frequent recourse to elections would impinge upon the freedom of representatives to pursue a greater collective good that alone can dissolve more debilitating parochial conflicts.

Representation allows for the extension of republican regimes. This gives to such societies a character different from that envisioned by Rousseau and from that attained in ancient polities. The very size of such regimes, embracing myriad social groupings, is an obstacle to despotic ambitions that would be hard pressed to centralize and control such disparate elements. Furthermore, a certain moderation is brought to the law-making process where the emphasis is put upon the art of compromise between groups and coalition building to achieve the consensus that majority rule requires. The real challenge to Machiavelli is to establish despotism in just such a regime -- a large, modern nation, with representative institutions.

The Restraining Function of Religion

Moreover, even the notion of "national sovereignty" is not absolute but only "relative." An understanding of sovereignty that recognizes only human authority is a "profoundly subversive idea" likened to the "materialistic and atheistic doctrine that set the French Revolution on its bloody course." According to Montesquieu, "it's not quite correct to say that nations are absolute masters of their destinies, for their sovereign master is God Himself, and they can never be beyond His power." If they did indeed possess absolute sovereignty, in principle they could do anything, including what transgresses God's eternal design and justice. "Who would dare go so far?"

We know already that Montesquieu is at least equally opposed to the contrary principle -- divine right. This is "no less a deadly principle" leading through obscurantism to the same conclusion -- despotism. However, in contrast to the febrile societies that issue from the notion of popular sovereignty, "divine right" logically favors societies such as that of India. The people there are separated into castes and turned into a "herd of slaves," led "by the hand of priests and trembling under the rod of the master." It cannot be otherwise when the sovereign "is the very representative of God on earth," having "complete power over the human beings under his sway."

According to Montesquieu, "furious partisan conflict" has been waged over the legitimacy of these two extreme positions. "Some cry: no divine authority; others: no human authority!" yet, Montesquieu himself ventures to side with neither camp in an attempt to moderate the deepest source of party strife in modern regimes. He aligns himself with a "Supreme Providence" which places the real truth "between a divine right that does not include man in its considerations and a human right that does not include God." He concludes: "nations, like individuals, are free in the hands of God." That is, "they possess all rights and all powers provided they are exercised in accord with the rules of eternal justice."

Montesquieu's formulation in this regard is curious. However, his endeavor to preserve the vitality of the tension between the realms of divine and human authority relies on logic similar to what informs his division of power theory. Moreover, as we shall make clear later on, the religious question it raises from the political point of view touches perhaps the most fundamental level of Joly's work and the Machiavellian revolution that follows in succeeding parts of the Dialogue.

According to the position Montesquieu stakes out, there are clear moral limitations to the expression of popular will, beyond any institutional safeguards. Legitimacy seems to exist only in recognition of the principles of both divine and human authority, without admitting to one exclusively. To submit entirely to divine authority effectively entails the submission to a vicar of God. This brings about the capitulation of personal autonomy and puts our political rights in jeopardy. To accede solely to human authority, as expressed in the radical notion of popular sovereignty, would by a different path culminate in despotic rule, necessary to restore order and to carry out popular dictates. This leads to outrages that God condemns. It reduces the civilizing influences of His commandments and loosens the hold of the universal claims of conscience, where, Montesquieu earlier claimed, is found the source of all morality and law.

Montesquieu clearly intends to leave a rather broad scope for permissible human action, while attacking the extreme positions of those that feed party strife and seek tyrannical means to implement their policies. The one group may be designated the party of reaction for adhering to principles, discredited by modern science, that find their greatest influence in former eras. They are the ones who shout: "no human authority!" They are opposed in turn by by another group, the revolutionary party of secular thought that shouts: "no divine authority!" This group would eradicate all vestiges of religious influence, oblivious to its positive social benefits and the deeper levels of truth it addresses.

The Montesquiean position clearly calls for the overthrow of tyrannical power, whether it is the priest or the politician who wields it, the ayatollah or the shah, as it were. But short of wide extremes and manifest abuses from these quarters, toleration is appropriate. This is in recognition of the inexact and flexible lines of worldly and other-worldly authority and the sense of the importance of each to a moderate politics and a civil existence. Speaking as a "practical legislator," as "a statesman more than philosopher," and as "a jurist more than a theologian," Montesquieu tries to compromise the differences between parties by encouraging a politic sense of toleration. This serves a dual purpose. It conduces to a forebearing temperament appropriate to liberty and a plural nation while it also counters moral fanaticism, whether bred from religion or the claims of secularism.

Machiavelli had characterized the souls of ancient men as steeped in the severe virtues that preserved liberty and an independent polis. Such stout virtues were rigorously guarded in a closed society supported by impressive religious convictions. The conflicts between the claims of religion and politics either did not exist in the polis as today or were greatly mitigated. Joly's Montesquieu implies that in the modern soul the universal and dual claims of an earthly and otherworldly morality work to broaden the moral horizon and soften sensibilities. At the same time, the tension between worldly and heavenly authority in modern regimes restrains the tyrannical tendencies emanating from one source or the other as they affect politics.

Joly's Montesquieu suggests that the countervailing powers he wants to erect in his system of government and within society are appropriate to the two most fundamental sources of authority, whose vital tension he wants to preserve. This reflects the spirit of the liberal regime in its suspicion of authority, per se, which, no matter what the source, requires checks and balances. It also prepares us for the most radical feature of Machiavelli ' s politics as it is described in the rest of the Dialogue.

We are anticipating ourselves somewhat when we describe his revolution as aiming at the merging of the sources of both secular and religious authority, in a single person, a new ruler, who is as much a religious as a political founder. This thoroughly modern prince seeks to eradicate the fundamental source of party strife by responding to the claims of both reactionaries and secularists. Far from a thinker limited by the horizon of the Middle Ages, Machiavelli will call for a new political religion that answers to the deep psychological needs of individuals in the party of reaction as it provides the solid basis for a new social order. Fully consistent with certain strains of modern thought, this new understanding of things will win the party of revolution to the prince's side in the advance of a social agenda they favor. In a new "civil religion," unity is restored to the soul of modern man as it existed in antiquity, but at the price of a new and potentially universal form of despotism that remains our task to describe more fully later on.

Faced with the ambiguities of Montesquieu's position, Machiavelli declares that he would like to come to some definite conclusions and "to determine exactly what follows" from what Montesquieu just said about the authority of God over men. Machiavelli exposes the heterodox character of Montesquieu's position by citing written authority: According to Biblical text, "God makes kings." Nothing could be more clearly contrary to the Montesquieuan position or more succinct in supporting "divine right."

Montesquieu accuses Machiavelli of casuistry, perfectly in keeping with parts of The Prince. Contrary to Machiavelli, he appeals to logic and cites other Biblical text to make his case. The political sovereignty that God sanctions as part of His design of things does not extend to any and all sovereigns, who are charged with reigning according to His design and ruling according to His laws. It is not, as Machiavelli implies, that the fact of rule is sufficient for God's investiture. "God did not will that the most sacrilegious reigns could invoke His sanction and that the vilest tyrannies could claim His ordination." Indeed, if it were as Machiavelli claims, "we would have to bow down before Nero as well as Titus, before Caligula as well as Vespasian." Though Machiavelli may well return Montesquieu's charge of bending Scripture to his own advantage, he does not choose to pursue such a tack.

Popular Sovereignty, Again

Machiavelli abstracts from Montesquieuan political science as it has been described for him. He is not interested in those forms of government that give most effective determination of national will, according to time and place, but what in a more fundamental way gives any form of government its legitimacy. For the moment, he would like to force Montesquieu to "the extreme situation" he so prudently avoids by considering how in fact legitimate human authority comes into being. He finally has Montesquieu admit that it is "the free will of the people" that "gives rise to sovereign power." In the final analysis, even in kingships, it is the people who ultimately dispose of sovereignty.

In words reminiscent of the American Declaration of Independence, to hold otherwise would be an outrage against "a truth of pure common sense," self-evident at least for right-thinking or enlightened men, however foreign to one who lived so close to the Middle Ages. Everywhere that sovereign power is established justly, that is, "other than by invasion or conquest," it came into being by "the free will of the people" by "means of election." This holds for ancient times as well as the Middle Ages and includes the case of France where, as with kingships elsewhere, heredity became the substitute for election -- a legitimate conferral of authority by the people in deference to tradition and the brilliant services of a single family.

In other words, government is rightly established by the consent of the governed, by election or tacitly. It is a "fact" to which we constantly return in revolutionary times and which is always invoked for the "consecration" of new powers. According to Montesquieu, "consent" is the fundamental principle of legitimacy, prior and preexisting. But unlike former times, it "has been explicitly recognized only recently in certain constitutions of modern states."

While rightful authority may take any form of government congruent with the will of the people and their particular circumstances, modern regimes informed by enlightened institutions clearly exhibit an appreciable advance over former times. Government is not so liable to abuse in a broadly representative regime where the principle of consent is more explicitly realized in the ordinary operations of government. The people need not, as in former times, resort to revolution for the redress of grievances that can be corrected through the due process of law.

According to Machiavelli, if the people have a right to establish the form of government that they want, then there is nothing that prevents them from changing it. Therefore, just as they may choose their masters, they may, by caprice, overthrow them. It is not a regime of order and liberty that follows from such doctrines as much as "an era marked by continual revolutions." Machiavelli accuses Montesquieu of assuming the infallibility of the people in their choice of both good government and political institutions. But are not the people, being mere mortals, "prone to passion, error, and injustice?"

In denying the validity of consent, as expounded by Montesquieu, Machiavelli in turn is accused of denying the universal experience of history and what can be discerned as the basis for all legitimate revolutions and governments. The perversity of such a position and the denial of a "fact" that "could not have been otherwise since time immemorial," effectively returns man to the situation of accepting the most odious governments as his fated dispensation.

According to Montesquieu, oblivious to the events of 1848, an era of revolution is not forthcoming. The people may in fact legitimately overthrow their governments. But such a right is perhaps more important in reserve than in actual exercise. Revolutions will not be undertaken for light and transient reasons but only "in extreme cases and for just cause." Self-interest and morality, it seems, militate against an easy turn to such a course. Yet, the legitimate invocation of such a right keeps leaders properly chastened so as to obviate the necessity of its actual exercise.

Moreover, we need not await God's judgment to pass on our transgressions. A breach of justice on a matter so consequential is not without its own punishment. "They will be punished with the scourge of discord, anarchy, and despotism itself." Yet, in mentioning "despotism," Montesquieu does not recognize it as the inevitable upshot of the right to revolution. Such an inference, drawn by Machiavelli, is really not "worthy" of his "great intelligence." As Montesquieu stated earlier, one must not confuse "the right with an abuse that mayor may not result from its exercise."

In fact, "God has granted peoples neither the power nor the will to change so radically those forms of government essential to their existence." The people as a whole are slow and obstinate and this favors conservatism and tradition. The violent overthrow of the ancient traditions and institutions that are integral to their definition as a people is exceptional. Montesquieu once again reverts to an organic metaphor to seal his point. "In political societies, as with all organic beings, the very nature of things limits the range of freedom."

Moreover, in addition to the natural conservatism of men are historic forces that militate against the possibility of a return to "an era marked by continual revolutions." According to Montesquieu, the influence of modern ideas will make men even less disposed to violence and revolution. The modern character has softened for various reasons, not least of which is the influence of industrial production. This has changed the mode of acquisition from slavery and warfare to a common enterprise that multiplies the ties of society in all directions as it shatters its rigid stratification. It is difficult to conceive a centralized despotism that could succeed in controlling such a diverse and complex social organization. The temper of the times could not be more remote from the force and fear that traditionally characterized regimes. According to Montesquieu, the proper soil for liberty is not Athens or Rome but the modern age, previously condemned by Machiavelli for its materialism and atheism. Montesquieu endeavors to show that these are superficial critiques and obscure more fundamental truths about the character of modern industrial society .

Modern Materialism, Rightly Understood

In modern societies, what may contemptuously be dismissed as "materialistic" is really not at all at odds with liberty. The productive wealth of a nation is crucially linked to economic liberty which, in turn, is crucially linked to political liberty. Montesquieu says that "industry can not do without liberty and is itself only a manifestation of liberty." Furthermore, economic liberty necessarily gives rise to political liberty, so that it can be said that the most advanced industrial societies are also the freest." [5]

The free scope that is allowed economic activity is essential to maximize productivity. A rich and prosperous society not only accords with the desires of individual citizens, including the working class, but with the desires of the government. The rulers and ruled share a common interest in preserving a free and vital private sphere as the condition of abundance. Machiavelli vastly overstates the revolutionary potential of the working classes, whose self-interest is bound to maintaining the order by which they themselves can better their lot. "Industry is the archenemy of revolutions, for without social order, it perishes and the vital sap that sustains modern peoples is halted."

Moreover, the society Montesquieu is describing, far from being atheistic, is advancing ideas the source of which lies in the .Christian faith. According to Montesquieu, "societies that live by means of work, exchange, and credit are essentially Christian, for all such powerful and varied forms of industry are basically applications of several great moral ideas derived from Christianity" -- despite all appearances to the contrary. The anathema placed on slavery sterns from the Christian recognition of man's essential equality before God. This led to new social developments and required a fundamentally different arrangement of productive forces than what obtained in the rigidly stratified and martial city-states of antiquity.

Several "great moral ideas stemming from Christianity are evident in even more subtle ways in such regimes. Once thought perilous to the soul, enterprise became elevated in Christianity as it evolved through its Protestant variant. The worldly duties of the elect found their proper virtues in diligence, thrift, sobriety, and prudence -- the same traits that promised commercial success and are given full scope for development in societies that live by ' -- work, exchange, and credit." Borrowing from an organic metaphor that appears in the Fifth Dialogue, we might say that the Christian religion spawns the capitalist ethos. But the former continues to endow the latter with its vital force even as the parent creed seems to expire. In the same Dialogue, Montesquieu had claimed that there existed a certain tension between our worldly and otherworldly responsibilities that served to restrain each other's extremist tendencies. He now argues that they also mutually reinforce each other in a moral sphere that they have come to share.

With the end of the Sixth Dialogue, Machiavelli has finally succeeded in distilling the essence of Montesquieu's teaching. Popular sovereignty, understood as the consent of the governed, comes to light as the only just basis of government. It is discovered at the bottom of all revolutions as a fundamental right upon which all legitimate forms of government are erected. At. the same time, Machiavelli has left undisturbed his interlocutor's opinion of himself and his infamous teachings. He poses as the defender of divine right and reinforces the image of a man born at the dawn of modernity but still tainted by the influence of the Middle Ages.

Dramatically, the Sixth Dialogue ends by setting down the conditions for the their "wager." Montesquieu cedes nothing to his interlocutor and Machiavelli demands no more. He must establish despotism in the most advanced and enlightened state, as Montesquieu has in fact described it.

The Sixth Dialogue, which seems to end inconclusively insofar as the theoretical dispute goes, in fact sets the stage for the rest of the conversation. Montesquieu sees himself as the architect of a political order that has set man on the path of liberation. Machiavelli is about to introduce new modes and orders. As he does, Montesquieu's confidence in himself and the constitutional era over which he presides disintegrates. He is forced to abandon his stereotyped view of the Florentine and to confront his teaching again, this time, presumably, with the deadly seriousness it deserves.

________________

Notes:

1. Machiavelli claims that Montesquieu has been captivated or seduced by England and has universalized its particular experience. Later, in the face of Machiavelli's cyclical view of history, Montesquieu cautions against letting one era or historic example guide our understanding of present reality .

2. The best treatment of the point Machiavelli here makes in fact is made by Montesquieu in his discussion of education and his comparison of ancients and moderns on this score. See Montesquieu, The Spirit of the Laws IV 4. Private education in ancient times reinforced public or civic education. In modern times, however, private education, or the education received from one's family, in being dominated by religion, leads in conflicting directions from what was required by civic education.

3. France is described as the most civilized nation in Europe and least amenable to the portrait of modern times drawn by Machiavelli. Before the century ends, France will have returned to conditions similar to oriental despotisms, according to Machiavelli.

4. The Fifth Dialogue concludes the discussion of the subject of popular sovereignty and it contains the most frequent references to religious themes. In the Montesquieuan scheme of things, religion is the ultimate safeguard for preventing an abuse of the people's right to sovereignty. Much win be said about this later.

5. Montesquieu offers his portrait of modern times as a definitive response to that offered by Machiavelli in the Fourth dialogue. This effectively ends the debate in Part One. In the next dialogue, the last of this part, Machiavelli gives in rapid outline a realistic portrait of modern times and the wholly new form of despotism that exists in France. At the end of the Dialogue as a whole, he gives in "rapid outline" a sketch of Napoleon Ill. Parenthetically, the coupling of economic development with political liberty is accepted as a "truism" today. Things may be more complicated than this. Political liberty may be a rarer plant than commonly thought. It also needs constant attention and nurturing.
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:45 am

Part 1 of 1

Part II: The New Machiavellian Founding

Chapter Three: THE POLITICAL REVOLUTION I


The undermining of the liberal regime proceeds in an orderly fashion in Part Two of the Dialogue. Since Machiavelli is largely free at this point to develop the discussion as he wants, particular attention will be devoted to the way in which the discussion evolves. Joly is indeed a fine student of the works of Machiavelli and well-versed in their spirit. We have noted Konrad Heiden's appreciation for Joly's mastery of the Machiavellian teaching but we would also suggest a certain artful imitation of his way of writing. The Dialogue's subtitle is "Machiavellian Politics in the Nineteenth Century" and some of the intricacies found in the Florentine's presentation of his political teaching can be found in Joly's work, as well.

Part Two contains ten Dialogues. The first Dialogue (the Eighth) begins with a discussion of the coup that brings the despot to power. What follows is how that power is made secure. The next two Dialogues (the Ninth and Tenth) deal with the "reform" Machiavelli will bring to the legislative and executive branches. This is followed by more Dialogues (the Eleventh and Twelfth) on the very important subject of the press. The first explains how the despot will defend himself against the press's attacks and gain control over the sources of information. The second describes how he will put it to use within his regime. This is followed, after an interruption, by a discussion of the judiciary, to which Machiavelli again devotes the major part of two Dialogues (the Fourteenth and Fifteenth). What is discussed in this section leads naturally to such a topic and allows Machiavelli to complete his reform of the three branches of government.

After the institutions of government have been discussed, Machiavelli turns his attack to society and important social groupings that present obstacles to despotism. The Fifteenth Dialogue addresses itself to political parties and the undermining of the political process. The freedom of association, guaranteed in a liberal system, encourages the formation of parties that organize and promote various social causes and interests. The next Dialogue (the Sixteenth) deals with other social groups, less conspicuously political but nevertheless important for their political effects. These include the militia, universities, the bar of law, and the clergy .

This last Dialogue deals largely with the police. It proceeds on a new plane at the end, but only, in the words of Montesquieu, to fill "a serious gap" left in the discussion of the judiciary. [1] It is through the police that ultimate social control will be effected. We anticipate the great importance of this topic in the broader scheme of Machiavelli's attack on society. The present chapter will comment upon the Eighth through the Eleventh Dialogue. The next chapter will begin with the Twelfth Dialogue, the end of which culminates at the dramatic heart of Joly's work. It will then proceed to a commentary on the rest of Part Two in the next chapter.

An example of the Machiavellian care with which Joly has constructed his work is revealed by the following consideration. The center of Part Two divides at the beginning of the Thirteenth Dialogue. Precisely at this point Montesquieu intervenes to break the order of the discussion, which has been proceeding by discussions involving pairs of Dialogues. The center of Part Two, which describes the political teaching of the Dialogue, is a short discourse separated from the topic of the two preceding Dialogues -- the press, and that of the Dialogue following -- the judiciary. It is a discussion of conspiracies. One is tempted to say that Joly understands the real core of the Machiavellian teaching to be its teaching on conspiracies.

Even more remarkable is the fact that the entire Dialogue in Hell also has its center at this very same place. There are twenty- five Dialogues in the whole work that divides at the beginning of the Thirteenth Dialogue, that is to say, at this same discussion of conspiracies -- a theme of vast importance to Machiavelli's The Prince as well as The Discourses. Through the complex organization of the text, itself .'meaningful" in a careful writer, we are given some preliminary evidence that we are perhaps in the presence of an uncommon student of the real Machiavelli. Joly shows an awareness not only of the darker Machiavellian themes but of an intricate way of writing that he broadly imitates, out of certain prudential considerations, and even in details of his text. It is an awareness of this way of writing that allows him to perceive different levels to Machiavelli's character and teaching, the true appreciation of which he endeavors to convey in the portrait of the philosopher given in the Dialogue.

Part Two of The Dialogue in Hell could be roughly characterized as describing a situation that begins in violence and ends in domestic peace, later declared the great good of Machiavellian politics. It shows how Machiavelli deals with the institutional obstacles to the consolidation of power he finds upon assuming the seat of rule. It then enters upon an important interlude, a discussion of the press, from which it ascends to the peak of the work. At that peak, there is a discussion of the propaganda offensive that can be launched through manipulation of the press. This is the most brilliant section of the work, as Jean- Francois Revel has sensed. [2] It prepares, finally, a teaching on conspiracies, a theme of the piece that has great resonance which will be touched upon throughout the commentary.

The teaching on conspiracies is actually out of order. Machiavelli intimates that, if not for Montesquieu's interruption at the end of the Thirteenth Dialogue, he would consider the topic to be more appropriate to his latter discussion of the police. In fact, the conspiracy discussion is resumed in the "appropriate place" in the last Dialogue of this part. Thus, Machiavelli's treatment of conspiracies envelops the second half of Part Two and has been prematurely taken up, literally to be put at the center of the work. A fuller discussion of Machiavelli's and Joly's way of writing will await a later chapter and the analysis of the Dialogue's drama.

The second part of the Dialogue in Hell opens with the Eighth Dialogue where Machiavelli establishes certain ground rules for their "wager."3 They will take as their hypothesis "a state constituted as a republic" and "endowed with all the institutions that guarantee liberty." Machiavelli assumes what he understands to be the most difficult case to prove his theories. It is a regime where resistance to despotism is most extreme and where, to all appearances, ideas, customs, and laws are least amenable to his project. Such a .'hypothetical" case could indeed be France, specifically described in just such a manner by Montesquieu in a previous Dialogue. In any event, Machiavelli generously offers to take as his test case the Montesquieuan regime par excellence. Tactically, the granting of such a large concession at the outset makes it difficult for Montesquieu to quibble over small points later on.

Given such ground rules, we come to see why Joly thought the illustrious Montesquieu and the infamous Machiavelli appropriate interlocutors and adversaries for this dialogue in hell. Montesquieu presents the modern political teaching that is most profoundly "anti-Machiavelli," insofar as the Machiavellian teaching is understood as the teaching of political tyranny. Montesquieu's early confidence in the face of Machiavelli's attack, and certainly some of the concessions he later grants him, stem from the fact that he thinks he has anticipated the threats of Machiavellianism. The anti-Machiavellian design for Montesquieu's regime is understood by its architect to be based on the accumulated wisdom of the ages. We are thus meant to see in its subversion the consummate test of tyranny and its most artful demonstration.

A "Hypothetlcal" Coup d' Etat

Montesquieu seemingly grants very little to Machiavelli in agreeing with him that such a state is not immune to a successful coup d'etat. As Machiavelli points out, the opportunity for such a takeover is latent in "factions" that prey upon regimes throughout history and threaten society with divisiveness and breakdown. In fact, the factional threat is perhaps even more pronounced in a large, diverse, and plural nation where different groups proliferate and are free to organize in promotion of their interests. As Montesquieu himself admits, the elements of "civil war" are latent in party conflict and it is often the case that pretenders to rule kindle such conflagrations.

However, Montesquieu goes on, a successful coup would be singularly difficult in a modern, enlightened society, Given "modern mores" and deference to aw, usurpers face "great dangers" and their success would be exceedingly rare. Moreover, they don't have the significance that Machiavelli attaches to them. A pretender might install his faction in rule. Yet, "power is in other hands. That's all."

Without overthrowing the political system altogether, the successful usurper and himself constrained by institutions beyond his control. "Public right and the constitutional basis of power stay intact" and that is the "crucial thing" for Montesquieu. He grants to Machiavelli that dangerous factions can arise and be manipulated by the unscrupulous in securing power. However, he requires a further argument from Machiavelli that despotism can succeed usurpation without in urn provoking a popular counterrevolution.

Machiavelli describes the social conditions that favor the success of "an armed enterprise," which, for the sake of argument, Montesquieu grants as a distant if real possibility. Again, such a state of affairs, offered as a hypothetical case, in fact describes the actual conditions of France as it existed in the atmosphere of 1848.

[Social discord) manifests itself in a cacophony of ideas and opinions, from contradictory pressure groups and interests, as happens in all states where liberty is momentarily unleashed. Political elements of all kinds make their class interests felt. Present are remnants of previously victorious but now vanquished parties, unbridled ambitions, bumming greed, implacable hatreds. There are men of every opinion and doctrine -- those who would restore former regimes, demagogues, anarchists, and utopians, all acting out of devotion to his cause and equally at work in trying to overthrow the existing order.

In sum, it is a political society more fractious than Montesquieu might well imagine and has nothing in common with the more regularized conflict of interest groups that characterize healthy liberal regimes. Its revolutionary symptoms can be read in the general anarchy of ideas, reflecting a yet more fundamental internal conflict between the privileged classes and the people. This is the deepest and perhaps most salient source of social discord. The diverse parties that create this impression of general anarchy can agree only in their opposition to the established order which is perceived by the bourgeoisie and the aristocracy as failing to protect their privileges and by the people as frustrating their desires.

In Part One of the Dialogue, Machiavelli contended that the need for order had primacy over the desire for liberty, "a secondary idea." The new prince will play to this need, now felt universally, in the breakdown of society. He will triumph in the vanguard of that faction which, because of its privileges, has most to lose in the drift toward anarchy, But he will direct his energies toward harnessing the popular forces that threaten to overwhelm a society, so divided, by their strength and numbers. His course is determined by two considerations. "First, the country feels a great need for tranquility and will refuse nothing to whatever power can provide it. Second, given these partisan divisions, there is no real locus of power or rather only one -- the people."

The appeal to the people will cover all necessary acts and their cause will supply "the blind power" behind his authority. The people in fact care nothing for the "legal fictions" that are the basis of Montesquieu's constitutional guarantees. The institutions still standing after the coup present no real obstacle to his power. They are purely formal, parchment barriers to the dictatorial force he has ssumed.

For the moment, there is no power except his own. "I am legislator, executive, judge, and as head of the army, I'm firmly in the saddle, so to speak." He is himself a victorious pretender. In less than subtle reference to Louis Napoleon and his illustrious uncle, he will assume the name of a great man in history , "capable of capturing the imagination of the masses."

Enjoying a momentary respite from the discord. of factions, the new prince will proceed according to advice found in The Prince, a book that contains all one has to know "for those who know how to read." His situation is not unlike that of a conqueror "forced to remake everything," even to changing the prevailing customs of the people. [4] However, modern times require him to eschew naked violence as far as possible and to move by indirection and cunning, He will not dismantle institutions but will "secretly tamper with each of their mechanisms." A new spirit will infect old Jaws. Without their outright abrogation, their hold gradually slips away. Following these generalities, he then proceeds to particular acts.

He will undertake "one big thing" and then "one little thing" on the day after his successful coup. The "big thing" Machiavelli's prince will do is to crush the factions that have opposed him. The insecurity of his position requires immediate eradication of serious opposition as well as a demonstration of strength to intimidate others that might want to test the usurper. He will unleash a terror that will cause "the most intrepid souls to shrink back." This is no time for temporizing or "false humanity." This terror is demanded to preserve the order of society itself.

Apparently, the modern prince does not wholly repudiate bloodshed. What is important is that it be employed well so that its use may be effectively circum scribed. Above all, Machiavelli implies, the prince must avoid a reputation for cruelty .Though circumstances would exonerate him, he nevertheless is visibly pained by the measures that necessity force upon him.

The prince takes great precautions to avoid the odium of the people, which belonged to Agathocles, by having others dispense his harsh justice. He pursues a clever policy that will at once make sure of his control over the armed forces at the same time that he covertly works through them as the agents of his repression. When an army punishes, it "never dishonors its victims." A public execution, skillfully managed by the armed forces, can impress the community with a sense of urgency without outraging its sense of justice. [5] Moreover, the odium of such acts will be attached to the prince's overzealous agents in the military, who are presumed to act without the knowledge or countenancing of the prince. Isolated in its actions, the army will in turn bind itself ever closer to the prince.

As Montesquieu points out, the prince's actions are not unlike those of Borgia in Cesena. The clever prince might profitably imitate him in sacrificing the willing accomplice and agent of his commands in a public execution, when his services are no longer needed. A violently grotesque demonstration of princely displeasure softens his subjects' character through fear while it satisfies their thirst for vengeance. It also endears them to the prince, their real tormentor, who is received as their liberator. The skillful use of terror is aptly illustrated in such an anecdote. Quickly and definitively applied, it will "prevent new bloodletting down the line." Moreover, the "image" of De Orco vividly introduces the theme of mass conditioning, a subject that gets immediately developed and is constantly amplified in Machiavelli's discourse. [6]

The "second thing" Machiavelli will do is mint a great amount of currency stamped with his visage. Given the urgent political problems he faces, he is accused of indulging in puerile vainglory. Machiavelli emphatically denies the charge, however. "From the day that my image appears on coins, I am king," he retorts. In fact, such currency multiplies the presence of the living ruler who insinuates himself in the daily matters of exchange among people in a modern commercial society .He assumes an honor normally reserved for dead national heroes, replacing the mottoes and abstract symbols of the republic with the new ruler's portrait.

Montesquieu initially misses the full significance of Machiavelli's action. Vulnerable in modern times are those staunch souls, "proud spirits," whose dignity rests on a noble indifference to material things and their blandishments. Even the enemies that opposed the prince's coup "will be forced to carry his portrait in their purses" and, "little by little," they will be forced, like everyone else, to associate him "with the material tokens of their joy."

In issuing such currency, Machiavelli intends an act of hubris to dazzle the proud, the ranks from which arise future rivals to his power. Not only will everyone, including the spirited, be obliged to carry the tyrant's image in their pockets, their eyes will also see the stamp of his "image" in a monumental architecture, of which more will be said later. In reducing the pretensions of the proud, Machiavelli gives a preliminary indication of how they will be undermined. He will ply society with material satisfactions to erode any independence of spirit. Finally, the proud, too, begin to smile on his countenance as the tyrant is deemed their active benefactor.

The real threat of the materialist mentality to the future of free institutions is not its effect on the people at large but those proud and spirited souls that would be the watchdogs of the people's liberties. The continued vitality of liberal society seems to rest on cultivating these characters and finding a noble outlet for their passions, turning a prideful, self-regarding posture toward concern for the common good. In the "two things" that Machiavelli will do after the coup, we have the key to Machiavellian politics. The able use of fear and love, of intimidation and benefaction, is directed toward controlling and pleasing the many and undermining that spirited group of people that pose the strongest threat to his regime.

If successful in reducing that spirited group, the prince will effectively homogenize society. It will assume the uniform character and taste of the masses of people, that, by virtue of an extended franchise, will rise to a politically, dominant position, In effect, the class that sets the tone for society is seduced or isolated and can provide no counterpoise to popular passions. This prepares the way for the prince who can then, by various techniques, further shape society to conform to the mass desires that favor his despotic rule.

Still, "the two things" Machiavelli will do after his coup do not speak to what really concerns Montesquieu. The prince will continue to operate within the context of "a fundamental charter whose principles, regulations, and provisions are completely contrary" to The Prince's "maxims of government." A third thing he has neglected to mention will be to "enact another constitution. That's all." There really is no difficulty in such a step, Machiavelli asserts. "For the time being, there is no other will, no other power than mine, and the popular element of the regime serves as the basis of my action."

Montesquieu imagines quite correctly that this new constitution "will not be a monument to liberty." However, he does not see how the momentary opportunity that crisis offers the prince as sufficient "to rob a nation of all its rights" and "all the principles under which it has been accustomed to live." Machiavelli not only names these principles, presumably so embarrassing to the prince, but will go so far as to include them in the preamble of his constitution. Being more attached to "appearances than reality," the people will be mollified and rest content with a mere declaration of his backing for '.the great principles of modern right." He must be especially careful, however, not to enumerate them specifically within that document as in a bill of rights. This would restrict his "freedom to act" by holding him precisely accountable to certain standards of behavior. He prefers only to seem to accord all rights, while not specifically according any.

Montesquieu thinks such a ploy presumes too little of the people. They are attached to liberty as to a sacred patrimony and see in its defense the only surety for their lives and possessions. To the contrary, Machiavelli sees even in modern people nothing that would change his opinion expressed in The Prince: "The governed will always be content with the prince, so long as he touches neither :heir possessions or honor. And from that time on he has only to combat the pretensions of small numbers of malcontents, whom he can easily finish off." [7]

He presumes a freer rein for the prince when it comes to questions of constitutional principles such as "separation of powers." These are matters beyond the people's comprehension and concern. He will, however, be more scrupulous with respect to "civil rights," to which "the people are most attached." Moreover, those who can comprehend such principles are hostile to the ends they serve. The literati join the classes of the privileged in making known "a kind of hidden love for vigorous and powerful geniuses." The people do not "thirst for liberty." Nor are the educated few enamored of popular institutions that discount their influence. They rest contemptuous of a regime oriented by "interests" that concern them little.

Plebiscitory Democracy

Montesquieu assumes that Machiavelli's constitution will be foisted upon the people "without the consent of the nation." In fact, Machiavelli has no intention to so offend "traditional opinion." He must iterate his conformity with such ideas and will even go one better than Montesquieu in their direction. The nation will not only be involved with the new prince in the preparation of a fundamental charter but directly so. Accordingly, the people will be immediately called upon to ratify the coup "by popular vote." There is no question about the outcome. All are pleased by his reign's promise of general peace as well as by the benefits it promises to bring to each group individually.

Moreover, the prince sees himself as bringing about what all the peoples of Europe ardently aspire to, Universal manhood suffrage is decreed before such ratification takes place. The "poll tax and class-based qualifications" will be abolished. As Montesquieu quickly points out, such a step is far from progressive. It intends to reduce the influence of the enlightened few so that the prince may, by dint of raw "numbers," justify his usurpation and begin to harness the "blind power" of the people to his will. Absolutism will be set up in a single stroke as popular win becomes the very base of his government.

In Part One, Montesquieu held that constitutional rule was the most historically advanced regime precisely because its institutions gave soundest expression to the fundamental principle of popular sovereignty. In the rule Machiavelli begins to describe, that principle finds even more direct expression in a plebiscite called to ratify the constitution submitted by the prince. As Machiavelli insisted in his discussion of political origins, we indeed find "brute force" as the fundamental reality. But it is masked by certain "forms" congruent with the times and the democratic thrust of history. [8]

Machiavelli claims to be not unlike a Washington in establishing universal manhood suffrage for his nation. But as Montesquieu points out, Americans were not called upon to ratify their constitution directly. Rather, it was "discussed, deliberated, and voted upon by the representatives of the nation" in numerous assemblies. Machiavelli sarcastically ridicules Montesquieu's reproof as belonging to "eighteenth century" ideas, wholly out of step with "modern times."

Mimicking criticisms formerly made by Montesquieu, Machiavelli implies that it is not he who suffers from certain antiquated notions. "For goodness sake. Let's not confuse times, places, and peoples. My constitution is presented en bloc. It is accepted en bloc." The specific articles of its text will not be formally debated and discussed. In associating himself with Washington, the new prince has no intention of founding a republic in the manner of the United States. Rather, he invokes Washington's name as one who stood in the vanguard of the people, properly reflecting the spirit of time and place.

Ratified at large, in a plebiscite and not in conventions, the new constitution will retain a singleness of design and purpose that is requisite to a strong and enduring rule. " A constitution must issue, fully elaborated, from the head of a single man or it is only a work doomed to disappear," wracked by the dissensions of the various parties that presided at its composition. A look to history, to the examples of Sesostris, Solon, Lycurgus, Charlemagne, Frederick II, Peter I confirms his contention. In moving from the example of Washington to such figures, Machiavelli reveals his real ambitions for his prince to be imperial and not in the mold of Montesquieuan or Washingtonian liberalism.

Montesquieu objects to Machiavelli's comparison with these great historic founders. The situation he is facing is not at all comparable to the situation they faced. They were bringing new modes and orders to benighted peoples while the premise of their discussion has been an enlightened regime and a civilized people where public right is well established, and well-ordered institutions are functioning.

Machiavelli does not propose destroying Montesquieu's institutions to consolidate power in a single person, as his interlocutor presumes. Through his study of Rome and Titus-Livy, he is not unfamiliar with mixed regimes and even the "seesaw politics" described as uniquely belonging to the parliamentary states of Europe. What he has found is that certain powers belong to any government, if not a specific institution. Thus, it is necessary that there be an executive, legislative, judicial, and regulatory power somewhere. In a modern state, these might find themselves dispersed among a cabinet, Senate, Assembly, Council of State, and Court of Cassation.

Machiavelli does not want to shock political sensibilities, particularly where lip service is still paid to "the principles of 89," by overthrowing such institutions. Moreover, since the functions they serve are essential anyway, he will let them stand. Again, mimicking Montesquieu and his penchant for mechanistic metaphors, Machiavelli indicates the spirit of his reform. "Please listen to me carefully. In statics, moving the fulcrum causes a change in the direction of forces. In mechanics, changing the location of a spring causes a change in the machine's movement. And yet, it appears to be the same apparatus, the same mechanism." Machiavelli will proceed accordingly and will not change the overall machinery of the constitutional regime. Only the inner workings and internal springs will be rearranged.

In coupling his talk of imperial ambition with the republican institutions described by Titus-Livy, Machiavelli has subtly introduced the experience of Rome as background to the discussion of the present founding. Montesquieu correctly sees the spirit of reform introduced by the new prince as imitating that of Augustus when he destroyed the Republic. The "names" of institutions stay the same while their purposes are redirected. The leitmotif of the. Roman experience, introduced by Joly on the title page of the Dialogue itself, surfaces most obviously at this point, as Machiavelli acknowledges Augustus as an appropriate "model" for his founding.

Machiavelli harkens to "the experience of the ages" to demonstrate the eternal relevance of living genius for "greatness" in rule. He intends to contrast such an understanding with the impersonal and systemic politics of Montesquieuan parliamentary government. His scheme represents nothing more than "schools for quarreling" and "centers of sterile conflict." "Public debate and the press" condemn such governments to "impotence."

While Montesquieu wants to hedge in vaulting ambition in the name of rational politics, Machiavelli wants to give it latitude for its vast designs. He appeals to a restoration of vital powers as wielded by one of the few "men of genius" that history ordains to lead. The despot claims to proceed from an elevated point of view and means his reforms to be seen in the light of the exasperating stalemates and respective turbulence that can infect parliamentary government.
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:45 am

Part 2 of 2

Legislative and Administrative Reform

Having heard Machiavelli elaborate upon the general spirit of his reforms, Montesquieu demands his interlocutor stop talking in "generalities" in order to come to some precise conclusions. Machiavelli then announces his "first reform." He will abrogate ministerial responsibility. The sovereign will accept direct responsibility for all that occurs in his administration. Machiavelli reasons that the people attribute such responsibility anyway. To accept total responsibility is therefore in accord with public sentiment and is more in keeping with the magnanimity he would like to convey in his person. It would thus further his direct rapport with the people.

Machiavelli then turns to the most popular branch of government. Parliamentary initiative in introducing legislation runs counter to the personal responsibility of the prince. It is, of course, ultimately threatening to despotic rule in permitting the lawmaker to "take the place of the government." Accordingly, Machiavelli denies to all but the sovereign the right to propose laws, a step that Montesquieu sees in turn as effectively setting him up ''as the sole legislator."

Still, it would seem, the prince finds himself in tight straits. Universal suffrage, Machiavelli admits, is the sole basis of his rule. Yet, if the prince is solely responsible for the actions of his government, it is inconceivable that he would survive even the first crisis. Contingencies that require unpopular steps threaten the foundations of his rule. Ultimately, a new majority of representatives with the Assembly may bring down the prince without recourse to violence.

Machiavelli reminds Montesquieu that the constitution has reserved certain dictatorial powers for the prince in emergency situations. As head of the armed forces, he has the entire public force in his hands to meet insurrections. He may 'also petition the people directly through the plebiscite were he to encounter too much intransigence even within his "reformed" Assembly. As a matter of fact, Montesquieu's reservations come too soon. Machiavelli has barely begun to list his scheme of reform for the Assembly and the rest of his government's institutions, all of which intend to wed popular will with autocracy.

Beyond denying lawmakers legislative initiative, Machiavelli also denies them the right to change laws once submitted to them. Their deliberations are confined to voting a measure either up or down, without compromise. Such then is the beginning of his intention to "reinvigorate" politics.

The employment of any extraordinary constitutional power would be truly exceptional, since control over the rules of the Assembly would seemingly suffice to effect the sovereign's will. The size of the body will be reduced, allowing leadership to exert effective discipline. The leadership is appointed by the sovereign and not elected by the membership. Machiavelli would then reduce the length of the legislative session, which denigrates that body and increases reliance on executive prerogatives and decrees. Any popular agitation that might find voice in the Assembly can be quickly silenced as the sovereign assumes the power of convoking and proroguing the legislature.

Above all, he "would abolish the unpaid status of legislative service." The implication is that, henceforth, bribery, more or less covert, will be one of the more efficacious means of promoting public policy. A truly independent legislature, drawn from the leisured and more enlightened segments of society, will at once be more democratic and more malleable. In sum, there are multiple ways of neutralizing the power of the Assembly.

For Montesquieu, the subversion of the Assembly would seemingly suffice to establish the prince's supremacy. But "in reality, sovereignty could not be established on such frail foundations." At the end of the Ninth Dialogue and before he turns to the "reform" of the Senate, Machiavelli indicates more generally how power comes to be exerted within a nominally popular regime.

He will leave Montesquieu's form of government intact but will shift the base of power from the Legislature proper to the Judiciary, which, by a change in the appointment process, is tied to executive will. Ultimate sovereignty for the prince may derive from the plebiscite, but real authority within the frame of government moves in a contrary direction, away from nominally popular institutions, until it concentrates and reaches its proper locus at the throne, where all meaningful action is determined.

At the end of the Ninth Dialogue, Montesquieu accuses Machiavelli of acting like a king while at least according to the ground rules of their discussion, they are in a republic. According to Machiavelli, however, the "exact time" he proclaims himself king is 'just a matter of expediency." In fact, the discussion of the Senate that opens the next Dialogue reveals the prince, in action, making the transition from a republican past to an imperial future.

The Tenth Dialogue continues the discussion of Rome with reference to Montesquieu ' s "memorable work" The Causes of the Greatness of the Romans and Their Decline.9 Specifically, Machiavelli asks the author of such "exhaustive studies" to discourse for a moment on the role of Senate under Augustus. Montesquieu declares that "until the last days of the Republic," the Roman Senate was "an autonomous institution vested with great privileges" and powers. Its independence, revered through long tradition, was key to "the greatness it stamped on the Republic." It is not clear by what means the Emperors succeeded "finally in stripping it of its power." In any case, it became nothing more than "a tool in the hands of the Emperors."

Machiavelli declares that his Senate will playa political role "analogous to the Roman Senate in the times that followed the fall of the Republic," It is always necessary for the prince to cover his actions with respected authority." At the side of the prince must be found bodies of individuals that remain impressive by virtue of brilliant titles, respectability, and the personal illustriousness of those who compose them." The imposing stature of the Senate will fill this need and is "the keystone" in Machiavelli's constitution.

Continuing his scholarly commentary, Montesquieu indicates that the Senate during the Empire made law by senatus- consultum. Machiavelli abjures such a power in his regime as foreign to modern times. Besides, the new prince has himself such decree-making powers. The real power of his Senate is reserved for the most solemn occasions, as guardian of the fundamental law.

According to Machiavelli, modern theories have tried to anticipate everything in their constitutional schemes of government. Machiavelli "is not prone to such an error," which would so circumscribe his powers. To perpetuate his rule, his constitution must have ample means to adapt to change. "Then, in serious crises there might be some other alternative to the disastrous expedient of revolution." The Senate will propose amendments by senatus-consultum to the fundamental law. In the manner of "a truly Roman Senate," as Montesquieu says, it will be able to judge statutes and ultimately define the meaning of individual constitutional articles. [10]

Machiavelli denies that his constitution will be vaguely drawn and subject to disputes that dilute reverence for it If everything can not be anticipated, everything "essential" must be. He will not constrict himself and be subject to contingencies by strictly limiting the means to amendment and thereby the survival of his power. On the other hand, he will see to all that is essential to the preservation of that power in any circumstance.

Pressed by Montesquieu, Machiavelli admits that the Senate will have no real power of its own. Theoretically, it may so amend the constitution ''as to make it disappear altogether" if the prince judges it expedient Montesquieu charges that the people will not stand for such a deception, But, exactly as in the adoption of the constitution itself, the people in plebiscite will be called upon to ratify any constitutional change en bloc. Dissidence will be controlled because, ultimately, the people as a whole will be made a party to any changes. The despotic design that is advanced in such constitutional changes will be cloaked in concerns for making the popular will effective.

Machiavelli will be "briefer" about the Council of State, a powerful tool of centralization, ready at hand. This is the proper rule-making body. Moreover, at its discretion, it may remove from the courts any matter of an administrative character it prefers to decide, thereby effectively making itself "both party and judge in its own case." As the body that drafts the laws, it is merely an adjunct of the prince. And he will exert the tightest "political control." Like the Senate, its eminence will lend prestige to what are the plots and maneuverings of the price.

With the discussion of the Council of State, Machiavelli has presented his constitution "in finished form," except for the discussion of judicial matters, which Machiavelli would rather postpone until later. Montesquieu proceeds to "add up" the prince's powers, equating them with the numerous lawmaking functions he has taken upon himself. These effectively extend regal power into properly legislative and judicial grounds and find for their legitimacy popular sanction in the plebiscite.

It is agreed that the powers are indeed formidable. For Montesquieu, we will recall, the primary political question relates to how the laws are made. For all intents and purposes, it is the prince alone who makes laws, directly, and when convenient, indirectly. Montesquieu sees the "most difficult" part of Machiavelli's task in establishing despotism as already accomplished. He grants too much at this point, at least according to Machiavelli, whose political art enters a more delicate phase. Machiavelli turns to a mass of subsidiary rights, which follow implicitly from constitutional rule, but which are wholly "incompatible with the new order" of things. These include the freedom of the press, the right of association, the independence of judges, the right of suffrage, periodic elections, the institution of the civil guard -- topics that receive due treatment eventually.

At the outset, Machiavelli will admit only the rights that are convenient for him. None follow necessarily or in "principle." In fact, the "day after" his constitution takes effect, "a series of decrees" will abrogate all the rights and liberties that might prove dangerous. In acting in such a way, Machiavelli is applying a maxim of The Prince to contemporary times.

The successful innovator will undertake reform not in a piecemeal fashion but all at once. The essentially conservative nature of the people will endure a sudden and definitive change more readily than a series of changes that constantly strain patience. In effect, the constitution they are asked to adopt -- en bloc -- fulfills the prince's prescription. [11] Furthermore, any harsh measure will be decreed forthwith, since, from that point on the prince will become progressively more tolerant. The liberties he is forced to repress are solemnly promised restoration after "the storm" abates. Soon he will take it upon himself "to pass for the most liberal man" in the kingdom.

"In the meantime," Montesquieu assumes, he will "directly suppress all liberties." Machiavelli objects to the word "directly." The successful innovator must be as much "fox" as "lion." This reference to The Princel2 indicates to Montesquieu that Machiavelli is about to enter a "new phase" in his teaching.

Controlling the Press

The next two Dialogues are devoted to a discussion of journalism and the press, a topic chosen by Montesquieu after the outline of the constitution is finished, Machiavelli avers the shrewdness of Montesquieu in turning the discussion to what he calls "the most delicate part of my task." In fact, Machiavelli clearly warms to a topic that displays his Machiavellian arts in the most impressive manner by detailing a project that is "both momentous and subtle."

The discussion approaches the heart of Machiavelli 's teaching. It concludes literally at the end of the Twelfth Dialogue where Machiavelli delivers the longest uninterrupted statements in the work to this point. Dramatically, the silence of Montesquieu in so deferring to Machiavelli contrasts sharply with his captious criticisms and repeated interruptions at the beginning of this discussion. It is testimony to Machiavelli's dialectical skill that he so changes Montesquieu's grudging recognition to an unabashed admiration for his artfulness and the power of his mind.

His discussion outlines the uses to which his press will be put and presents a scheme unprecedented in its vision. "No government has conceived of anything as bold" as what he is about to describe. The most dazzling part of Machiavelli's teaching, it represents one of the earliest analyses of modern political propaganda and the enormous potential it holds for shaping the masses to tyranny. The use to which it will be put is much more than Montesquieu can possibly imagine. Montesquieu comes to realize Machiavelli's ultimate intention is to transform "the instrument of thought" into "instruments of power" wielded by the prince.

A reminder of The Prince might prove fruitful to introduce the section on propaganda. The Prince advises the political innovator to use his own arms and not those of another, as one is more secure and less dependent in the use of what is one's own. [13] According to Montesquieu in Joly's Dialogue, the modern arm par excellence against tyranny is the press. In effect, Machiavelli illustrates in this section how he would appropriate the weapon of his adversaries as his own. In the Eleventh Dialogue, Machiavelli shows how he will in fact, through various schemes, defend himself against the press's attack. This is "the defensive part," so to speak, of the regulations he would impose on the press. Next, he will make Montesquieu understand how he will employ this institution to his own advantage.

In the Eleventh Dialogue, Machiavelli first indicates how he will deal with newspapers, then how he will deal with other publications, We shall see that he intends to assume control over all sources of thought within his regime. Two sections are devoted to newspapers. One concerns the regulations governing domestic news and the other concerning the steps that will be taken to control even the foreign press. He thus intends to control and use information arising from beyond his borders or, when not convenient, at least to neutralize its effects.

Machiavelli admits that he is entering a task that requires finesse. If he decided to suppress newspapers outright, he would imprudently shock public sensibilities that are always dangerous to oppose openly. He will proceed by indirect means in an attempt to "muzzle" the press, not suppress it. Still, he indicates that such a task is simplified by the way it conducts itself in parliamentary governments.

In a scathing critique, Machiavelli alludes to the peculiar knack of the press "of making itself hated." Among other things, it is "mercenary," not unlike any other enterprise for profit. Its character is formed accordingly as it appeals to prejudice and a disparaging leveling that finds popular favor, Being in the service of "violent, selfish, and narrow passions," it is a "public voice" but for narrowly interested groups. For such reasons, it often fails to attain the larger view that justifies its freedom. It often stands rightly accused, as the Anglo-Saxon press of today, of being "unjust," "operating without magnanimity and patriot ism." Joly would agree that there is much truth in a view that famously saw the journalistic corps as "effete," "impudent," and "snobbish." [14]

Montesquieu is aware of all these "grievances against the press." In fact, it is easy enough to amass a great many more. Yet, its crucial role in liberal regimes can not be denied. The fate of free governments, by its very nature, is tied to public opinion that the press forms. It forces the depositories of public authority to govern constitutionally. It obliges them to be honest, restrained, and respectful of constitutional practices in relations among themselves and with regard to others. Finally, "it gives to anyone who is oppressed the means to voice grievances and be heard." To adequately perform its function, it needs freedom from state control and restrictions. It stands, so to speak, virtually unchecked among the system of checks and balances it surveys. It has no direct government power and it is granted these prerogatives in deference to the role it plays in the grander design of free government, "Much can be pardoned in an institution that, despite so many abuses, serves so many crucial ends."

According to Machiavelli, however, the "masses" are utterly incapable of understanding that grander design and what it implies for them. He is freer than Montesquieu realizes to meet its manifest "abuses" through certain measures, each of which cumulatively acts to reconstruct the press's role in the context of the new regime and to actively shape thought to its requirements. The importance of its role is perhaps even more magnified in the Machiavellian scheme. By direct and indirect means, the new prince attempts to move public opinion beyond the clash of narrow interests which the press serves to what in the Twelfth Dialogue is revealed as a new collective consciousness united behind a new historic leader.

Machiavelli begins by announcing that all future newspapers will be thoroughly reviewed by the government prior to being authorized to operate. This is not an adequate safeguard to protect the prince, Montesquieu points out, as even licensed newspapers can become antagonistic later on. "The spirit of newspapers" emanates from its board of editors. It guides the thought of reporters and shapes the newspaper's stance on a variety of complex matters. In response to Montesquieu, Machiavelli will authorize any changes in editorial personnel, subsequent to a newspaper's licensing. [15] As with government institutions, he intends to undermine the press by tampering with "its internal mechanisms." As Montesquieu again points out, such measures do not prevent old newspapers with hostile editorial boards from speaking out. We shall see how such ripostes disappear as the scope of Machiavelli's design overwhelms him.

To undermine present newspapers and discourage any antagonistic new publications, Machiavelli will continue his indirect assault, All newspapers will be subject to a stamp tax and a surety of future solvency. As profit-making operations, newspapers are vulnerable to economic disincentives that, if rigorous enough, will drive even established newspapers out of business. In any event, if such newspapers do in fact become too expensive, they will likely be the luxury of the well-to-do, that is, the classes least prone to incendiary politics.

We thus have the first instance of policy goals indirectly effected through the taxing power, a technique that promises wider application, given the nature of modern finance described in the subsequent part of the Dialogue. By such measures, the prince can reduce the number of hostile newspapers while, we shall shortly see, he takes other steps to proliferate friendly enterprises. Nevertheless, Montesquieu objects, all measures to this point do not affect the publications of political parties and other associations. These are not profit-making ventures. However, Machiavelli has something "to shut them up" and introduces measures that are blatantly more repressive.

He criticizes the jury system as it exists in several states of Europe, particularly as a proceeding to handle the "misdemeanors" of the press. It is a "deplorable measure" that often ends up enflaming opinion it seeks to quell by providing a forum for dissident views. Machiavelli has respect for the cleverness of journalists whose subtle way of writing vouches for a nimble intelligence beyond the reach of the common juror. "A writer can disguise his attacks in such varied and subtle ways that it is not even possible to bring clear charges before the courts." Machiavelli therefore suggests that such offenses be handled by an administrative proceeding, conducted without the same regard to formal procedures that attain in regular judicial proceedings.

Again, the prince's goal will be achieved by indirect means, through threats and intimidation wherever possible. In the text, the new prince speaks in his own voice, underscoring his personal solicitude for such matters. He will not suppress any writer without cause and tries to make such "restraint" appear commendable. He explains that more aggressive steps would be counterproductive anyway. He likens the corps of journalists to the head of Hydra -- "if you cut off ten of them, fifty more grow."

Knowing the penchant for writing in the now literate times of Europe, he actually encourages newsmen in their writing endeavors. "I don't want to surnrnon you everyday before the courts" or be constantly relying on the law to curb infractions. "Even more, I don't want an army of censors looking into the day before what you are going to publish the next day." Nevertheless, the activities of recalcitrant troublemakers will be closely monitored. After a few warnings, certain things will simply not be tolerated, They may write, by all means, but "no subtleties" and nothing that will obstruct the prince or diminish his power. He alone will judge such things.

As Montesquieu points out, the journalist is not the target in all this. The ultimate object of the prince is not so much to be rid of certain noisome newspapermen, "nasty and spiteful journalists" who "constantly put themselves above the law." It is rather to strike at the association and the cause a newspaper serves. Two convictions in one year will automatically bring about the suppression of the newspaper.

Machiavelli lists other restrictions that might find application. He will forbid verbatim reporting of chamber debates and judicial proceedings. The publication of "false" news, whether in good or bad faith, might be penalized by the reporter's incarceration. Nor will the reporter be allowed to pass on news from abroad in an effort to escape personal responsibility. The prince ultimately determines the "veracity" of matters that pertain to him. This is as it should be and will give pause to newsmen who often lack material proof for "news" that is really only their personal convictions.

Montesquieu grants that the prince may secure himself against the domestic press by such measures. He then draws Machiavelli's attention to the foreign press, ostensibly beyond the prince's control but which still might hold him accountable before world opinion. Machiavelli proposes the most rigorous punishment of those who distribute news items from unauthorized foreign sources. "First, the introduction or circulation in the kingdom of any unauthorized newspapers or writings will be punished with imprisonment, and the punishment will be sufficiently severe to stifle the desire." Furthermore, "those of my subjects convicted of having written against the government while abroad will be investigated and punished when they return." [16]

Assuming he governs a large kingdom, the small states on the border will be sufficiently intimidated to curb their own press in what regards him and to extradite agitators. According to The Spirit of the Laws, "the areas surrounding a despot must be laid waste." The modern despot also will not stop short in taking all steps necessary to prevent the penetration of civilization. The prince might try to seduce opinion-makers in foreign countries responsible for disseminating information entering his realm. Machiavelli quotes Benjamin Constant in describing the actions of his prince. He will make "his kingdom into an island where what happens in Europe will not be known, and the capital will be made into another island where what happens in the provinces will not be known." [17]

Having apparently satisfied Montesquieu with regard to his control of the press, Machiavelli next turns to how he will control other publications. In fact, control would be even easier as their production involves different enterprises. The publishing industry can be crippled by attacking the printer, the editor, or the bookseller, all of whom will be regulated by the government. Taxes will be particularly steep on small tracts that deal with political themes. "I shall impose a heavier stamp tax on books that do not have a certain number of pages." In what is a comment on modern tastes, Machiavelli declares that steep taxes on long and expensive texts are not necessary. There is no will to write them and certainly no inclination on the part of the masses, otherwise diverted, to read them.

"Today, there are hardly any but a few devils that have the conscience to write books." Economic considerations will discourage "literary pretensions" while "criminal law" will discourage printing. "If there are writers daring enough to write books against the government, they must not be able to find anyone to publish them."

Indirect censorship will be employed to exert pressure, not so much on the author, as on the publisher, Timid types will simply refuse to deal with certain material. Moreover, through the surveillance of printers and publishers, the government can procure subject matters prior to its distribution and sale, Unlike newspapers, prior restraint is not disavowed as the ultimate method of control.

Where Montesquieu assumes that Machiavelli is already well fortified against the press, Machiavelli declares that he has completed only one half of his project. What remains, the subject of the Twelfth Dialogue, is how Machiavelli will use the press against itself, followed by a discussion of how Machiavelli will employ it for propaganda purposes. In effect, Machiavelli intends his government to absorb the function of journalism in order to project the information and thought it wishes.

_______________

Notes

1. The gap that needs filling in concerns individual liberties, police powers, and the judiciary.

2. See Revel's Preface to the Dialogue ala Enfers, xvi iff.

3. Toward the beginning of the Eighth Dialogue, Montesquieu remarks that their discussion here would find the perfect setting in "the gardens of Rucellai." This was the setting for Machiavelli's dialogue on the Art of War. Fabrizio Colonna (Machiavelli?) engages in conversation with the amiable and capable Cosimo Rucellai. He comments on some rare plants that the garden contains. The plants were favored by their Roman ancestors and Cosimo's grandfather, a Renaissance enthusiast of ancient things, planted them. Fabrizio comments that it's too bad that the enthusiasm for the past attaches to such trivial things. The discussion then turns to the way their Roman ancesters conducted war. This passing reference to Rucellai is another example of the effort Joly makes to embellish his Dialogue with details relevant to the lives of his interlocutors. Montesquieu is also intimating that they are discussing dark themes that should not be spoken of openly.

4. See The Prince, V and VI for reference to the proper conduct of one who has recently acquired rule. That text is meant to give a "general idea" of how the prince will proceed. What follows are the details of how he will conform to The Prince's prescriptions in a modern setting. "For those who know how to read," all is contained in The Prince, Machiavelli claims, giving a dig to Montesquieu. Remember that Montesquieu considers himself as among those who truly understand Machiavelli. Here Machiavelli is indeed not saying anything "new. "

5. Reference to Agathocles occurs in The Prince VIII. It is interesting that in addition to a reputation for cruelty, Agathocles affronted the prevailing religious sentiments of his time. The actions of Machiavelli's prince in the Dialogue should be kept in mind in this regard.

6. See Prince VII for references to the Remirro de Orco episode.

7. The different character of the nobility and the populace is the focus of discussion in The Prince IX. Joly quotes from there. Joly's Machiavelli is very attentive to that "noble" class of "spirited men" and what it implies for politics. He returns often to this theme in the course of his discourse.

8. Nazi apologists, who saw the Second Empire as a precursor to the Third Reich, especially admired the way Napoleon periodically used the plebiscite to justify his dictatorship.

9. Machiavelli's discussion of Rome draws inspiration from Montesquieu's "memorable work." David Lowenthal, in his Introduction to Montesquieu's Consideration of the Causes of the Greatness of the Romans and their Decline (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1965) I, begins his discussion of Montesquieu's book by asserting how formidable the influences of the Discourses was upon it, When Joly's Machiavelli praises the author of the Considerations, it is genuine. The two "adversaries" might again be trading sincere compliments. Joly's Machiavelli has already remarked on the similarity of certain of Montesquieu's ideas to his own. Throughout the Dialogue, Joly often refers to common ground shared by the two disputants.

10. The irony is that while Montesquieu speaks of a "truly Roman Senate," a parody of the Napoleonic constitution is being discussed.

11. See The Prince VIII.

12. The infamous phrase appears in The Prince XVIII.

13. See The Prince VI which is entitled "Of New Dominions Which Have Been Acquired By One's Own Arms and Ability."

14. Spiro Agnew's famous characterization of journalists was in fact coined by a then obscure journalist, Remember, too, that Joly made his living as a journalist and a government aide.

15. Vladmir Putin is probably the most notorious practitioner today of Machiavellian arts here described.

16. It is remarkable that Joly foresaw all the dangers he was running in publishing his work. The first publisher he approached, a Frenchman, was indeed a "timid soul" and refused to print Joly's work, having divined its true target -- Napoleon III. Joly then sought publication in Brussels. Joly here indicates some of the reasons why he wrote the tract he did. Among other things, it conforms to prevailing literary tastes. What is said about the character of contemporary authors, the reading public, and the secret police is no doubt meant to shed light on Joly's endeavors in the Dialogue. The design and intention of Joly's work gets fuller elaboration in chapter 9.

17. Cf. The Spirit of the Laws V 14. Montesquieu there writes that a despotic state is "happiest when it can look upon itself as the only one in the world, when it is environed with deserts, and separated from those people whom they call barbarians. Since it can not depend on the militia, it is proper that it should destroy a part of itself."
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:47 am

Chapter Four: THE POLITICAL REVOLUTION II

Machiavelli may belittle journalist but he doesn't "the press." Indeed, it is because of the press that governments fall in parliamentary regimes. Because "journalism wields such great power," his government will turn journalist itself. It will become 'journalism incarnate" in actively shaping thought to what will be presented as an historic rule. "No government has conceived of anything as bold as what I am about to describe," he declares.

In the Eleventh Dialogue, Machiavelli listed the steps he would take to contain the press in an effort to reduce and control any hostility emanating from such quarters. The tools he employs are many and impressive but useful for what has a limited purpose in the overall scheme of things. In the Twelfth Dialogue, Machiavelli shows how he will expand the role of the press in his regime in proliferating newspapers and other means of communication. This will provide the proper outlet for the vanity that stands behind the penchant for writing in modern times.

He intends to enlist the most talented writers of his generation to his cause and plays upon their secret predilections for power. The prince himself, we shall see, has no mean pretensions in the field of letters and moves freely among men of ideas. He bestows honors and other recognition on otherwise disaffected intellectuals to reconcile them to the new political order. They are capable of projecting the prince's rule in proper terms, while their art embellishes his reign with monuments to its spirit. In such literate times, they are essential allies of the prince and key to the success of its political project.

His more important allies will speak from their favored positions and will give voice to the loftiness of princely sentiments. Their defense of the prince's policies will be projected against the background of the narrow self-interested views advanced by the myriad journals found in parliamentary regimes. Ultimately, he intends to convert the press, the freedom of which was to stimulate wide-ranging debate on public policy, to an instrument in service to the prince's regime.

Putting the Press to Use

The new role for the press bespeaks a fine appreciation for the character of modern writing. The prince predicates his own effectiveness in this area precisely upon his understanding of its nature in modern times. He uses the press to create certain impressions that help insinuate certain ideas. He eschews cruder propaganda techniques and prefers to shape rather than force opinions. His scheme is deemed appropriate for the most civilized regime in modern Europe, where, according to Montesquieu, ideas still have the greatest influence.

Machiavelli begins rather simplistically. He will count the number of opposition newspapers in his kingdom and double their number with pro-government journals whose ties to the prince will be covered. Machiavelli's plan gets refilled. He will categorize the newly created journals into several groups. The first group will present the most orthodox views and will appeal to the most fanatic of government partisans. The next group will rally that "mass of lukewarm and indifferent men" whose abiding interest lies in support of public order, regardless of government. These newspapers will reflect the official slant on things but in less demagogic terms.

A more important role is reserved for the remaining categories of newspapers. Their personnel will be used to infiltrate parties and other associations to form respectable alternatives to existing journals. To become credible in this capacity , they must downplay official orthodoxy. Once in place, they will proceed to subtly shade opinions. Such journals will be secretly tied to the prince as if by a leading string. Those who work in key positions in the journals ostensibly agitate for their group's concerns, while they are actually employed by the government and serve its purposes.

Finally, every variety of opinion will be absorbed into the government's press and be secretly manipulated. "Like the god Vishnu, my press will have a hundred arms, and these arms will stretch out their hands throughout the country delicately giving form to all manner of opinion." Such a scheme begins to do justice to the presumed sophistication of the populace in succeeding to neutralize inconvenient views while amplifying its own.

The whole enterprise will be secretly controlled and coordinated from one center. What appears under the title of "division of printing and the press" has more in common with a bureau of intelligence. Montesquieu is confounded by the orders that are issued from such an agency. For example, the prince will be attacked. Newspapers devoted to him will "cry out and stir up trouble" for the prince. But never will the principles of his regime or the foundations of his rule be subject to criticism. Noise will be heard but only on peripheral matters. It signifies nothing more than polemical differences.

The benefits to the prince are many. In suffering the attacks he himself has orchestrated, the prince will earn a reputation for great restraint and tolerance. The press will be supposed to have the widest latitude of freedom yet there will never be heard the least doubts about the essentials of the prince's rule. Because of their reputation for being captious, the reporter's silence on such matters will be heard as loud praise.

The description of the scheme to this point, called "truly Machiavellian" by Montesquieu, expounds upon even more noteworthy benefits. Through his corps of journalists, the prince will establish an almost organic rapport with the people." A secret and mysterious sympathy" unites the prince with the will of the people. The throne will be enveloped in a reverent awe. With the help of government newspapers, he can "plumb public opinion and assess whatever reaction" he provokes. He is free to try out schemes, float trial balloons, incite enthusiasm or hold it back, and attack enemies "without ever compromising" his power.

As a slightly more chastened Montesquieu points out, the sole vulnerability in all this would seem to be the independent newspapers that were in existence prior to the coup and are not affiliated with the government. Machiavelli is confident that his secrets will not reach the public. "Surely you are aware that journalism is a kind of freemasonry. Those who live by it are all more or less attached to one another by bonds of professional discretion." Indeed, "like ancient auguries, they do not easily divulge the secrets of their oracles." But even those privy to such secrets will be intimidated by the more severe measures leveled against potential troublemakers.

The prince does not fear the few sharp reporters in his capital. Any influence they have will be circumscribed and exist only in that city. Gullible provincial types are most susceptible to the prince's propaganda and are among his most fervent supporters. He intends to make use of this situation through the mechanisms of the press that he has just elaborated.

The prince will prepare the ground for his political moves by sending word to his press bureau. A stimulus will be given that spreads throughout the provinces. The capital will be the last affected by a movement that begins in the outer reaches of the kingdom. The capital, in effect, is no longer the activist center of the kingdom and is now reduced to a reactive role. It will run behind trends without even being aware of it.

According to Montesquieu, "absolute power brings in its train a number of abuses for which the sovereign himself may not be responsible," but for which he will be blamed. Even Machiavelli admits that the prince's government "will not be perfect." Moreover, he has assumed sole responsibility for all that happens and will thus, at the very least, lose prestige in the treatment he suffers from certain journalists. Recognizing this vulnerability, Machiavelli does not wish to be put into a position that requires a ceaseless recourse to covert repression. His censure is open. He simply obliges newspapers to print retractions. He will "always have the last word, without resorting to violence."

Machiavelli asserts that his prince will engage in journalism to a much greater extent than imagined. In preparing a political initiative, Machiavelli will have the issue mooted. Directives will be sent out to his political newspapers to promote a course of action. Finally, an official directive will declare policy in a Delphic-like pronouncement. Reacting to what is said, the newspapers will again be in turmoil, each interpreting the prince's statement "according to its particular slant" on things. The prince will then clarify the confusion to which his newspapers have contributed. [1]

This will have a profound impression on the people. All movement in the kingdom will be seen to initiate with the prince. Grand drama will surround his official statements. He is not one to break his silence for trivial reasons. The prince's statement will be solemn and stern, reflecting his august rank and elevation of mind. This will contrast sharply with the noise of the press, as each newspaper reads the prince's statement in light of its own narrow concerns. Where the throne radiates mystery, dignity, and decisiveness, the press in general appears as the source of squabbling and confusion. A host of publicists, the favored of the prince, will step forward as his effective mouthpiece.

Machiavelli intentionally creates the background of confusion that demands the commanding presence of the prince. Without changing its essential character, the press will be put to use in creating the impression of a prince who is indispensable and inhumanly prescient. The prince will present policies that circumstances force him to change as a development of a single thought and a single goal. Words, if not deeds, can be made consistent. All this has a great effect on the masses that must not only admire their leader but treat him as a superior kind of being.

Machiavelli spares no enthusiasm in describing the activities of his official press. Every day the papers will be filled with references to his ministers' reports, projects, and schemes. While docile themselves, the masses, particularly in southern climes,2 demand an active and energetic government. "Novelties, surprises, and theatrics" will constantly divert their attention. But beyond mere diversion, the prince and his policies will be presented in a certain ideological light that, we shall see in detail later, reflects key elements of the doctrines of Saint-Simon. The people, we are told, do not like anything that smacks of atheism in their governments. He will build upon religious sentiments, not contradict them, and will present his acts as under the protection of Divine Providence.

He may be likened to the medieval prince who, under the dispensation of "divine right," acts as "God's anointed representative on earth." In Part One, Montesquieu had described princes as presuming the persons and property of all their subjects as their own and the domain of their private pleasures. This nineteenth century prince attains to similar power but has as his putative goal the welfare of the people. His utterances will "breathe the spirit of the most enthusiastic, universal liberalism." In matters of commerce, arts, industry, and administration, he will look to all sorts of projects, plans, innovations, and improvements and have his course of action broadcast by the press as aiming at disinterested beneficence.

According to Montesquieu, certain Christian forces shape the development of modern society .This modern prince can be seen as advancing such influences in a secular context through social policies that answer to Christian charity in the relief of man's estate. This is presented as effectively completing the social progress, begun by Christianity, in advancing the lot of the many, a goal that becomes the direct object of social policy. It is not so much in the name of "divine right" as traditionally understood that the new prince acts, but in the name of "history" and the historic process, which is interpreted as tending to the prince's rule as a culminating and providential goal. The people will be encouraged to see human and political problems as having technological solutions and hopes and energies will be directed accordingly. Technological advances give the masses palpable evidence of progress. The new reading of universal history will reinforce a view, also shared by Montesquieu, which sees this progress as extending to political and moral realms.

In effect, the prince expands on the Enlightenment view of historic progress that Montesquieu emphasized in defending liberalism in Part One but has it culminate in an explicitly authoritarian regime. His regime intends no violence to the principle of popular sovereignty, however. Indeed, in the frequent appeal to plebiscites that installs the prince in power, sanctions his constitution, and ratifies policy decisions, that principle arguably enjoys more direct and relevant application than in the liberal regime, where popular consent is understood to be only tacitly accorded. Shortly, the prince will reveal the techniques available to him to ensure that the exercise of the franchise will not pose any problems for the prince's rule. In purely secular terms -- according to the principle of popular sovereignty -- the prince gains legitimacy for his reign.

He is not, however, content to ground his rule on the mere voice of the people. To accommodate his dynastic ambitions, popular support must be deepened. His rule, like that in the Middle Ages, seeks some higher justification to enlist the profounder allegiance of the masses. Here the religious elements of the prince's rule are adumbrated in the reintroduction of the principle of divine right, which, in an updated version, once again becomes applicable to legitimate authoritarian rule. They stand more explicitly revealed at the end of the Dialogue when the prince emerges as a kind of "living god' and the character of his regime receives final definition.

Appeal is made to both secular and religious authority and points to realms that Montesquieu was at great pains in Part One to keep in vital tension. Here they begin to blur and merge in the reign of the new prince as secular rule receives sanctification in quasi-religious terms. In ending that tension, Machiavelli wants to end the deepest source of party strife, earlier identified by Montesquieu as pitting the religious party of reaction against the secular modernists. A religious base is ultimately sought for politics to satisfy the profound need for order in a modern society At the same time, autocratic rule is directed toward technological progress, as espoused by the modernists. Such a regime presents itself as holding forth the greatest hope for ameliorating the lot of the masses, the constant object of the prince's public solicitude and a solid popular base for his regime. It could be characterized as being animated by the Christian teaching of charity, but in a "new" application of this core doctrine to society. An unprecedented consensus of thought is sought on this basis. It has legions of writers and artists at the prince's command to give it expression.

Unlike former times, which attained a consensus on fundamental issues in antiquity and the Middle Ages, thought need not be controlled. He will satisfy the rage for writing and allow philosophic and religious questions to be debated. But, as stated earlier, free inquiry will stop at key elements of his rule. There may be differences of opinion, but as with the scholasticism of the high Middle Ages, it bespeaks a more fundamental harmony of views.

At the end of the Twelfth Dialogue, it is Machiavelli who is anxious that his conversation with Montesquieu continues. His discussion of the press, hastened because of circumstances that threaten their dialogue, has succeeded in giving a "first impression" of the new regime. Montesquieu responds with irony to the evident enthusiasm of Machiavelli. The image Machiavelli conjures of his prince is likened to "poetry" not unworthy of a "Byron." The talents of the author of the Mandragola are well displayed. Yet, it is a nervous irony as Montesquieu is "not quite certain that these things are not possible."

Formerly overconfident and complacent, Montesquieu is now uneasy as he gets his first clear premonition of the ultimate designs of the prince. Out of his discomfort, he encourages Machiavelli to finish. Machiavelli wants to press the attack but not lose Montesquieu altogether through his growing exasperation. He therefore yields the initiative to Montesquieu who may choose the topic he wishes. He turns to the subject of conspiracies.

Conspiracies

The discussion of propaganda and conspiracies stand at the heart of Joly's work. Their juxtaposition is not accidental. In the Dialogue's most brilliant section, Machiavelli shows how the prince will publicly present his regime. This is followed by a discussion of the most sinister aspects of his rule-machinations, intrigues, and the subterranean supports that assure the prince's security. The rest of the discussion in Part Two is literally enveloped in the subject of conspiracies as the topic is resumed in his concluding discussion of the police.

Conspiracies have a big role to play in Machiavelli's scheme that transcends what Montesquieu initially imagines. Montesquieu is perhaps too easily satisfied by Machiavelli's methods of controlling conspiracies. This requires a return to the discussion that allows Machiavelli to expand on how he will make crucial use of them. Machiavelli beguiles Montesquieu, whose patience is tested, by fascinating him with the intricate web of tyranny he spins. Watching his interlocutor operate, he is often as much intrigued as repelled. It is a disposition of mind that persists only so long as he remains convinced that he is merely involved in a theoretical dispute, the "fantasies" of a poet, as it were.

The prince's rule begins with a conspiratorial coup and, in a way, all the prescriptions in Part Two are meant to guarantee against a second such occurrence. Conspiracy is the preoccupation of the prince and in a crucial sense it is the essence of his politics. [3]

Because the prince's constitution and other "reforms" have effectively blocked political paths of change, the most serious obstacle to his security comes from conspiratorial sources. Montesquieu seems to understand this by broaching the matter at this particular time when, after Machiavelli's brilliant discourse on propaganda, he would like to exploit his most obvious vulnerability.

The design of Machiavelli's politics, aside from cultivating the masses, was to take the necessary steps against the fewer but more spirited of his subjects. The people at large are tamed through various benefactions, but force must subdue the latter, at least initially. It is from this group that the danger of conspiracies arises. The more thorough the prince's political control, the more they are forced to extralegal channels and ultimately to resistance in seeking effective political expression.

The prince may "liberalize" his rule, but only when assured that these more spirited individuals have been subdued and no longer pose a serious threat to him. Otherwise, political control requires a concomitant repression and an enormous police apparatus geared to searching out and eradicating conspiracies. But this has its own inherent dangers. Repression that is too thorough will of itself spark broader resistance to his rule. The most important features of the prince's politics are found as much in the prince's public pronouncements and projects as they are in the use of repression, which becomes his most delicate political problem. [4]

Montesquieu had earlier argued in Part One that the "public morality" of the prince cannot escape the strictures that govern "private morality." A rule that begins in violence and which uses violence to stay in power will end violently. Machiavelli gives testimony to the truth of Montesquieu's contention in presenting a public image of the prince in the Twelfth Dialogue that effectively masks the violent steps that follow. It is to be remembered that the new prince "stands for peace." Furthermore, the prince is most anxious to be a popular tyrant and to put himself on a course where repression can be progressively eased. This is one of the chief ends of propaganda, the effectiveness of which will diminish the necessity for harshness.

The topics of propaganda and conspiracies are thus intimately connected in a thematic way as integral components of the prince's policy. As propaganda has its effects, the class of people that would resist his rule win be reduced. Conspirators will be deterred from their projects if convinced that their efforts will find no broader appeal among the growing partisans of the regime. Moreover, the ideological appeal of the prince is directed toward satisfying many that might be among the number of potential revolutionaries. "Almost all their ideas have an incredible affinity with the doctrines of absolute power."

Machiavelli will cleverly use conspiracies so that he can move against conspirators themselves through his police. Harshness can then be focused and concentrated and need not disturb those other elements of society, longing for peace, that are content with his rule, if not its enthusiastic supporters or chief beneficiaries. Machiavelli had stated he would have his prince be 'Journalism incarnate." Apparently, he is also the regime's arch conspirator. Our discussion of conspiracies will include Machiavelli's discussion in the Eighteenth Dialogue and will give a broad outline of the state's repressive machinery and its use.

Machiavelli states that he will use the moment after his coup to move against secret societies since it is through them that conspirators are recruited. Accordingly, "the act of organizing a secret society or of being affiliated with one will be severely punished." Also, Machiavelli states, "I would start with hundreds of deportations -- all those who greeted my coming to power with gun in hand." Any alleged member of a secret society will be tried administratively. There will be little pity for sedition mongers. Peace must be implacably restored.

Montesquieu sees the future as filled with executions. Given the peculiar sensitivity of such a despot to conspiratorial elements, he sees Machiavelli as launching an all-out attack to annihilate any and all seedbeds of dissension. Machiavelli will not proceed down the harsh path predicted by Montesquieu. If rigorous enough at the beginning, future dissidence will be kept to a minimum. He follows Duke Valentinois, who, apart from some "ruthless moments," was "a rather good natured fellow," especially kind to the "disadvantaged," Machiavelli adds facetiously.

Contrary to what Montesquieu thinks, some secret societies must not only be tolerated in his regime, but actively cultivated. Those within these societies are "from every nation, every class, and every social rank." Without their knowing it, the prince will have his allies infiltrate secret societies. This will allow the prince to be "privy to the most obscure intrigues." His ultimate goal would be to subvert their leaders and control them from the throne.

Machiavelli hints at the size of his secret police, an institution so vast "that in the heart of his kingdom one half the populace will be watching the other half." To please Montesquieu, he might change the name of his police to something more euphemistic, such as "ministry of state." He will establish security bureaus in each of his departments. These will survey the offices of government and will be centralized under the prince's direction. This is only the beginning of the "multitude of tasks" that he will assign to what he calls "the most important of my ministries." An enormous secret police will be integrated with the machinery of government. Its activities will extend to the remotest reaches of society and beyond, into international realms.

Machiavelli's police share certain key traits with police in later totalitarian states, not the least of which is its expanded ranks and functions. Integrated into various facets of government, one of its many duties will be to ensure political loyalty. When we recall that the prince's corps of journalists are really involved in intelligence gathering, we begin to see a new social role for police activities that intends to guarantee the orthodoxy of all opinion and behavior in matters essential to the prince. Machiavelli implies that his police will be everywhere. Through it, he will be like the god Vishnu, not only able to "touch everything" but literally to "see everything." However, unlike the police of later totalitarian regimes, its more repressive functions are not meant to spread terror through the populace at large. Rather, it guards its secrecy while choking the seeds of potential resistance.

The prince's object is not to intimidate everyone but only the dangerous. As Machiavelli points out, acceding to "Gallic conviviality" and its garrulous character, "his reign will not be as savage" as Montesquieu thinks. Gatherings of a certain number of people will be permitted. Even literature may be discussed. But, under its cover, people must not promote partisan political goals. In the end, the nature ofMachiavelli's secret police is a reflection of the regime's revolutionary objective to arrive at a new historic order, while eschewing a reliance on the force typical of later totalitarian regimes.

The international functions of the police will be diverse. There will be those whose backgrounds allow them easy access to court life in other countries. These are bon vivants who will survey foreign princes and even certain pretenders to his own crown. Next, there will be a cadre whose revolutionary credentials are impeccable. They will penetrate the ranks of more obscure revolutionary circles, both at home and abroad. The prince will also subsidize bookstores, foreign journals, and publishing houses, where political opinions can be more easily monitored. Finally, he will have a prince of his own house seated on the steps of thrones in foreign capitals who "plays the role of the malcontent." He gulls his entourage while informing the prince of the most interesting intrigues hatched abroad. [5]

Domestically, his secret police will infiltrate all levels of society. It is only slightly hyperbolic when Machiavelli states that "there will be no private room or gathering place, no drawing room or intimate setting where an eavesdropper is not found to absorb what is said at any hour." Among other things, Machiavelli's police will survey the mails and will possess the most advanced instruments of espionage. Such things are alluring for the characters that would be attracted to serve in his police, drawn to such activities by "a kind of love of the art, " not unlike the fabricators of The Protocols, we might add.

Machiavelli reveals other benefits that accrue from his way of handling conspiracies. He confounds Montesquieu by saying that some conspiracies are an absolute necessity. At opportune times, contrived conspiracies can be put into play to rally the people and justify a request for extraordinary powers. Hearings can be called to investigate his sham conspiracy and if they are skillfully handled, the prince "will pass for being too easygoing." Where in fact repression is most thorough, it is most hidden, and the reputation of the prince masks a different reality.

The centrality of conspiracies in Joly's organization of the Dialogue reflects what is perhaps the most fundamental preoccupation of the prince. Moreover, in a very real way, much of the prince's activities are at their core conspiratorial -- the application of "force and cunning" in league with the secret police. In Part One, where Machiavelli purported to state the essence of his teaching, he implied that the successful prince does not distinguish between domestic and foreign policy. In effect, the spirit of foreign policy, at least in its reliance on "force and cunning," predominates even in domestic policy.

Judicial Reform

Machiavelli concludes his teaching on the techniques of tyrannical rule in Part Two with judicial reforms. Again, the bent of his proposals is directed against conspiracies. He intends to undermine the judicial process and protections afforded the individual that extend to political enemies of the state. Accordingly, the prosecution of cases will be expedited. Arguments will be heard before a single magistrate instead of a panel. The privacy of such proceedings will work to the defendant's disadvantage.

Machiavelli also shows himself a crafty master of judicial proceedings in using them to condition the masses. He will do away with the distinction between misdemeanors of common law and political misdemeanors. He will also do away with specific criminal courts that separate different classes of offenders. "In my kingdom," Machiavelli states, "no distinction will be made between the insolent journalist and the ordinary thief. They will share the same cell and appear in the same court. The conspirator will share the docket with the forger and the murderer and appear before the same jury." Such an innovation will have an effect on public opinion. The people will see "the conspirator treated no differently than the common criminal" and "will begin to blur the two categories of crime" in their mind.

Machiavelli's discussion of conspiracies in the Thirteenth and Seventeenth Dialogues lead in both instances to a discussion of the judiciary because the laws that are necessary to control political enemies eventually will be brought before the courts for their hearing and interpretations. In the Montesquieuan scheme, the judiciary is the ultimate check on the tyrant and the last refuge of the subject. We have already seen how its character begins to change in the new regime founded by Machiavelli.

In general, the judicial branch retains its eminent position. The harsh laws of the prince will be determined with a solicitude for certain "forms." In this regard, Machiavelli is very far from the barbarous processes of government attributed to him at the beginning of his conversation. Indeed, "violence plays no role." Unlike traditional despotism, this regime is premised on respect for due process of law. The prince finds support where every enlightened ruler of today finds it -- in the law, not outside it. In fact, Machiavelli feels "no need to decree a great number of harsh laws," as many laws necessary to the prince will already be in force. Without exception, all governments must have laws sufficient to protect the public order. Machiavelli's government is no different. In difficult situations, the prince may not have to pass new laws but only resurrect old ones that have fallen into desuetude.

Machiavelli begins "judiciously" enough with deference to judicial forms. The prince would rather appeal to magistrates on the precedents of existing laws than to have to convince judges of the need to apply harsh and novel acts. circumstances require the prince to be adaptable to meet extreme situations. The new prince will attain this flexibility moving through the laws, not beyond them. "You see that it is only a question of giving the courts a little fine-tuning. This is always easy in centralized countries where the judiciary stays in direct contact" with the administrative machinery.

Machiavelli turn to a "very ingenious and simple scheme" to achieve his ends. In the Montesquieuan system, judges are appointed by the king to life tenure, not elected to the bench. The intent of such a procedure is to remove judicial selection from the pressure of politics and to allow merit to determine the choice of personnel, according to the prince's considered judgment. The judge is not the representative of the people but of the law and he is to act as its living embodiment. Life tenure ensures his independence and conduces to a temperament rich in the prudence that comes with age among men who live by the "continued exercise of the mind."

Machiavelli intends to exploit the prince's appointment power to eradicate the independence of the bench and tie it to despotic rule. He does not advocate anything as crude as court-packing. [6] There will be no wholesale turnover of court personnel nor any revision of judicial operations. In harmony with his other "reforms," he wants to maintain dignity and respect for the bench because, once subverted, it will be a useful tool in his hands. He proposes a single change, justifiable on the grounds of the high esteem in which he holds the judicial branch. He will merely require judges to retire at a certain age to preserve the judiciary from the unseemliness of senility. Public opinion will be on his side.

The repercussions from this small change are great. It plays to the careerist ambitions of sitting and prospective judges. It shatters the esprit de corps and common interest that binds them as a branch of government and introduces divisiveness among men supposedly characterized by the disinterested concern for the law. Machiavelli explains that forced retirement will open many positions that can be filled by the prince. His appointments will set the tone for the judiciary as a whole and shape the behavior of prospective judges as they strive to emulate the favored. Every year, Machiavelli continues, at least twenty and as many as fifty new appointments can be made on the basis of a single vacancy through the successive advancements of those in lower positions. Career interests, especially among the young and ambitious, will keep these justices from ranging too far from the prince's wishes. "In their deliberations, the police power will receive an interpretation so favorable to my power that I will be relieved of a multitude of restrictive measures that otherwise would be necessary."

The rest of this discussion, continued in the Fourteenth Dialogue, may be said to focus on the merits and drawbacks of an active bench. As Machiavelli points out, it is perhaps impossible to keep judicial activities contained. Even the most clearly written law is liable to surprising interpretations. Moreover, the legislature often passes laws with a certain elasticity to accommodate ensuing situations. The potentiality for activism is latent in certain legislation. Once the judiciary as a whole has been rendered subservient through appointment "winnowing," an active judiciary can prove useful to the prince in cloaking despotic will with the respectability of "forms."

Machiavelli gives two such examples involving the court of appeals, apparently taken from actual cases in contemporary France. In an electoral matter the court declares the principle of a "tacit abrogation" of law to escape the potentially embarrassing prosecution of an elected representative. In a matter of concern to the press, "peddling" of publications, restricted under certain police regulations, is extended to even the author of a "pamphlet" who distributes several copies, even as gifts! Thus, "instead of a simple exercise of the police power, you have a law regulating freedom of the press and restricting the right to publish one's thoughts."

Montesquieu claims that when courts are not bound by their own judgments, numerous lawsuits will result from individuals who try to affect policy through judicial petitions. This need not be the case, however, as several determinate decisions on specific matters could definitively discourage what are costly endeavors for any citizen. Declaratory judgments could even preempt inconvenient lawsuits. Montesquieu rightly suspects the general thrust of Machiavelli's policy to place the people under a form of paternalism, a mode of governance far from the lupine practices he first imagined. [8]

Political Reform

Machiavelli freely admits his intention to declare his prince not only king, but hereditary monarch for life with succession going to the first-born male. He continues his pose as a man of the Middle Ages in harkening back to the principle of Salic and Frank monarchic rule. However, he has already declared that his regime will be founded on popular sovereignty. This causes Montesquieu to see Machiavelli as espousing two incompatible premises. The dynastic ambitions of the founder can not be built on such unstable foundations. The people need not have recourse to revolution to rid themselves of the prince as they are given the means to deliver themselves in their right to vote.

In Dialogue Fifteen, Machiavelli elaborates on the techniques that are available to ensure the "proper" exercise of the franchise and gives a view of his rule strikingly different from medieval notions. Though he wears a crown, his avowed goal is to embody popular will. He is in fact one with the people. "What I will, they will. What I do, they do." He declares himself the "trustee" of all power it has delegated. He is their "true representative."

With this understood, Machiavelli will begin by extending appointment powers where they do not already exist. For example, the prince will appoint the administration of the localities. The franchise will then be exercised only to determine national representatives. Presumably; this is where the sovereign will of the people is voiced anyway and where interesting and important concerns are decided. Therefore, resistance to his restrictions of the franchise to the national legislature would not be forthcoming. Such policy might even pass as enlightened administrative policy.

In avoiding local elections, Machiavelli will keep his citizenry from participating in a too-frequent exercise of their sovereignty. This will prevent the cultivation of certain habits that develop from a vigilant regard for the operations of government. People in the provinces will be taught to look to the centralized administration to solve their collective problems. The prince will focus his energies on the national chamber. In effect, he can secure his reign by making sure of this body by steps that amount to de facto appointment there.

Machiavelli will have candidates swear "a solemn oath" to the person of the prince and not, as in 1789, to the nation. Here begins a more overt effort to accommodate them to personal rule. Fidelity and personal loyalty will once again be elevated in the public's esteem. Such an oath will contrast sharply with republican mottoes of former eras.

According to Machiavelli, "the smallest details of electoral laws are of the utmost importance." He taunts Montesquieu by directly citing the authority of The Spirit of the Laws in this regard. "The laws establishing suffrage are fundamental, likewise how suffrage is apportioned and how ballots are cast." [9]

Machiavelli states that he will submit his list of candidates with those of other parties. Here the wisdom of extending his appointment powers comes into play. Within the government itself, Machiavelli will have the built-in support he needs eager to work for the cause of the prince and his party, if for no other reason than personal interest. In the nature of things, the prince's party will be the strongest. Indeed, the prince himself will be seen as the people's most ardent and true representative. Through his control of the press, the prince will have the ears of his subjects as well as a feeling for what they desire.

The relative strength of the prince's party can also be assured by sabotaging opposition parties. Still other ways have been found to paralyze their efforts. Political assemblies will be forbidden and the ban will extend to conventions, thus preventing opposition parties from drawing up platforms and drumming up enthusiasm for shared political goals. Public proclamations for opposition candidates will be tolerated but will be dwarfed by the same proclamation of support for the prince's candidates.

Machiavelli next proceeds to an elaboration of how suffrage will be regulated to his advantage. He will have voting by commWIe. The vote will then be split among local personages and be attracted to the better-financed and better-known official candidate. His eye is not directed toward men of ability ."Public order has less need of men of talent than men devoted to the government." In effect, "great ability belongs to the person who sits on the throne and those gathered around it." Moreover, elections will be in single-member districts with a plurality vote being sufficient to elect or return the prince's favorite. There will be recourse to "gerrymandering" and districts will be conveniently divided to dissipate the crucial numbers of opposition votes.

Finally, electoral colleges can be influenced. Machiavelli eschews a more blatant form of vote tampering, given other means at his disposal. To Montesquieu's surprise, ballot stuffing, a measure "during the time of Leo X" is not proposed. The controversy it could ignite is dangerous and unseemly and can be avoided, we may presume. [10] Recalcitrant districts can be made amenable through patronage. Contracts and other benefactions may be promised districts if there vote is right. In the discussion of the budget, we shall see the expanded opportunity for such leverage.

Machiavelli admits that, despite such efforts, opposition may emerge. Scandals alone may create vacancies that will be filled by opponents. However, he never claimed that his regime or his representatives would be perfect. From his position of strength, he can admit to faults and thereby appear magnanimous. Moreover, within parliament he will have orators on his side that will anticipate and counter attacks. Legislative business will be controlled by the presiding officials that the prince has appointed and conducted according to his rules.

Social Reforms

Montesquieu next draws attention to certain social groups that are important buffers against tyranny. Unlike parties, the expressed goal of these groups is not directly political but their influence has important consequences for politics. The principles that they serve harmonize well with the liberal design of things. Montesquieu claimed that modern political mores are least receptive to the regime of tyranny. These groups encourage those elements of character that are nourished in a greater community of shared interests and high-minded purposes, independent of the state.

As a political system, Montesquieuan liberalism tried to institute checks and balances internal to the functioning of government so as to frustrate tyranny. These groups provide some of the stronger social checks to a tyrannical project. They are the social supports to the political system that grow up and flourish in the freedom that the system allows. By virtue of freedom, they are allowed to exist, and they in turn endow the regime of freedom with certain strengths.

Montesquieu lists some of these major social groupings: the church, the university, the bar of law, the national militia, and business corporations. The prince's relation to private enterprise is not treated here but can be extrapolated from his discussion of the budget and state finances. The variety and vitality of these groups poses a problem for the prince in his move to centralize control. Montesquieu characterizes Machiavellian politics as trying to annihilate political parties and destroy "other collective forces."

Unlike the disciplined regular army, the citizens' militia is often a fractious group. Machiavelli will dissolve it as currently organized only to reconstruct it on new foundations. He will choose its leaders and determine where it can legally exist. To outlaw such a "useless institution" (or to confiscate its gWIS, we presume) would be exceedingly unpopular. The people derive a sense of security from its existence, however false, as well as certain "puerile" satisfactions from participating in certain of its exercises.

Machiavelli's approach to higher education shows greater seriousness. Nevertheless, he declares that "the way things are now handled is just about fine" the way it is. He immediately explains himself. "These great bodies of learning are no longer organized as they once were." The state has already encroached upon a large measure of their autonomy and reoriented the direction of learning to the point where they are no longer anything more than the appendage of the state and an extension of its power and influence. His attack on the institutions of higher learning is as much an attack on liberal education itself.

Machiavelli merely furthers recent trends affecting state education. It is only a question of a decree or ministerial order to further the changes he wants. He will assume the prerogative of hiring and promoting the heads and members of the teaching corps. He also assumes control over the curricula. For example, the study of constitutional politics in the teaching of law will be proscribed. He wants to prevent certain false ideas from reaching the youth, who might become as "wrapped up in writing constitutions as they would tragic poetry." Such studies later on will only produce utopians instead of sound statesmen. The changes signal a more or less blatant attempt at indoctrination. "I want the history of my reign to be taught in my schools while I am still alive. In such a way, a new prince finds his way into the hearts of a generation."

Machiavelli will multiply the state schools. He thereby gains a reputation for love of learning while infiltrating the colleges and universities with professors he has appointed. Private education will not be proscribed but will suffer in competition with the state schools. The prince advocates open enrollment and free courses in all the major cities. This will not only dilute educational excellence as traditionally conceived, it will also provide a convenient forum for his indoctrination, as he tries "to co-opt even the last vestiges of independent thinking."

According to Machiavelli, the law profession must also be suborned. "You know better than I, Montesquieu, that this profession fosters cold and stubborn temperaments when it comes to matters of principle and minds whose tendency is to hold the acts of government to strict legality." A rigid emphasis on the formal requirements of law would frustrate the grand designs of the prince, who might be called to account for his illegal ways in a court of justice. However, the people hold the bar of law in high esteem and see its independence as a guarantee of material possessions, life, and honor. Machiavelli's proposal is to have the prince designate the bar while not touching its independence in any other way. Current practices could be discredited as favoring the well-connected over the meritorious. Machiavelli would wean lawyers away from the temptation to engage in certain causes that embarrass the prince by tying their livelihood to his will.

According to Montesquieu, however, the greatest bulwark of liberty is found in the clergy and the propagation of faith. "I know of nothing that threatens your power more," he declares. "The Christian teaching is a teaching of liberty." The spread of Christian influence through the "humble and gentle" Gospels was enough "to destroy the Roman Empire, Caesarism, and its power." Its morality elevates the individual and strengthens the soul, over which human power has no sway. In sum, "nations that avow Christianity will always escape despotism." Assuming the prince rules over such a country, he will be checked by the clergy, whose influence is intimately felt everywhere, emanating from the sanctuary to deeply influence the family and the schools. [11]

Machiavelli denies that the priesthood is as Montesquieu indicates. Pointing to history , in both ancient and modern times, he has found it "to be a natural support for absolute power." The ultimate basis of the prince's authority is no different from its own. The idiom of his public speech, laced with appeals to divine sanction, will find approval from the priestly caste. Machiavelli further denies that the church has influence as wide and deep as Montesquieu claims. The progress of Enlightenment thought has had its effect as it shapes liberal and advanced opinion toward anti-clericalism. Machiavelli would provoke a schism in the Church by appealing to such elements. A break with Rome would be warmly greeted in such quarters and perhaps not broadly resisted by the masses. But, finally, Machiavelli has a keener appreciation for the conservatism of the people -- already manifest in his appeal to "divine right" -- that he would want to build upon as more solid than liberal opinion and secularism.

Machiavelli intends to radicalize the anti-clerical elements in his regime to impress the clergy and the papacy with the anti-religious fervor with which he must contend. The Pope, already under siege in Italy, would be grateful to the prince for any effort on his part to maintain the status quo in his regime. In coming to the Pontiff's aid with his armies, the prince finally succeeds in attaching him to his person both by gratitude and self-interest. In rising to his defense, he becomes the protector of faith and installs his legions in Rome. These armies might prove useful to intimidate the Pope if his gratitude becomes exhausted. Such a foreign policy will open up options that can be followed according to changing circumstances. He will have the aJternative at any time to accede to those liberal elements in his regime, if need be.

In the meantime, the defense of the Pope will be popular with the masses. Again, in pointed reference to Napoleon I, the people might even see the prince anointed in Paris. In such an event, the lingering strength of Christianity and its hold on the public's consciousness would attach itself to such a prince. Machiavelli thereby shows how the Vicar of Rome can be made the servant of the new Caesar, reconciling the tension between secular power and religious authority in the prince's favor. "The secular religion of revolutionary ideology ends up playing the same role that orthodox religion did ... Caesaro-Papism is reborn and the interpreter of History becomes the pope-emperor." [12]

We shall see that this theme gets most explicit treatment in the last part of the Dialogue and concludes the work as a whole. With Montesquieu, we come slowly to the realization that Machiavelli is describing not merely a change in rule but the most radical and complete of foundings, extending beyond political and into spiritual realms. At the end of the Dialogue itself, the portrait of the prince is complete. He seeks God-like status in an Empire that wants universal influence.

_______________

Notes

1. Here is the forerunner of our masters of "leaks" and "spin." The "spinning" of economic statistics in manipulating the budget is comically fresh. Napoleon's ministers are specifically cited in Part Three.

2. Machiavelli makes this remark to the thinker who famously focused on considerations of climate to determine what is politically appropriate, or possible.

3. This accords with Marx's analysis of Louis and will be discussed more fully in the last chapter. Raymond Aron has stated that "the maintenance of a kind of conspiracy within the party that controls the state" is one of the essential elements of totalitarianism. It is one on a list of other elements which, "all of them taken together" (Aron's emphasis) reveals the "essence" of the phenomenon. See Aron's essay "The Essence of Totalitarianism According to Hannah Arendt" in Daniel J. Mahoney, ed. In Defense of Political Reason (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, 1993) 104. It is interesting that all the elements Aron mentions, except terror, are features of Napoleon's rule. The absence of terror indicates what perhaps made Napoleon's regime more sedulous than twentieth century varieties as well as crucially different.

4. Autocratic regimes of today, threatened by oftentimes violent secret societies, use the whole panoply of repressive techniques so ably described by Joly. His discussion is a worthy introduction to the essential character of certain of these places.

5. This was the role played by Prince Napoleon, cousin of the Emperor, who had widespread connections in opposition circles. His faction, called the Palais Royal Group, was active in working class causes.

6. Unlike FDR's very rare political misstep.

7. The incident he chooses to illustrate his point is significant. Remember, the secret police of the Second Empire saw Joly as indeed the writer of just such a "pamphlet." Parenthetically, it can be noted that Napoleon understood very well the threat from a samizdat press.

8. With the discussion of the judiciary, Machiavelli has completed his teaching regarding the formal institutions of government. In the broad sweep of his treatment of the judiciary and the fine details of criminal proceedings, we should bear in mind that Joly himself was a practicing lawyer and observed the justice of the Second Empire from within courtrooms and behind bars.

9. The discussion of suffrage in democracies is found in The Spirit of the Laws II 2.

10. An American who has lived through "The Dade County Shad Controversy" and other voting irregularities can appreciate Machiavelli's prudent restraint in this regard.

11. Machiavelli underscores the point by references to The Spirit of the Laws XXIV 3. He there memorably writes: "How admirable the religion which, while it seems to have in view the felicity of the other life, continues the happiness of this!"

12. The words are Raymond Aron's again and describe Stalinist totalitarianism. They are perfect in their description of Louis Napoleon, as he appears in the Dialogue. They indicate how archetypical the Joly analysis is for the despotic ern he saw forthcoming. See Raymond Aron, "The Essence" in in Defense of Political Reason, 110.
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:49 am

Part 1 of 2

Chapter Five: THE ECONOMIC REVOLUTION

Part Three consists of four Dialogues, the Eighteenth through the Twenty-First and divides about equally between Machiavelli and Montesquieu. Montesquieu first lays out the teaching of modern finance and budgetary science, which he believes is inimical to despotism. It is followed by Machiavelli's attack and final victory over Montesquieu, who meekly defers to his interlocutor in Part Four and allows him to put the finishing touches on the portrait of tyranny he has drawn.

The drama of the dialogue in Part Three gives us convincing evidence of Machiavelli's absolute control over the movement of the discussion. In successfully handling what Montesquieu perceives as "the most difficult problem of all" for a sovereign who wants to exert absolute power, we suspect Machiavelli's complete control throughout the entire conversation.

The movement of Part Three is not unlike that of the conversation to this point. The debate begins with Montesquieu's emphatic assertions and ends with Machiavelli's victory. Montesquieu begins this section with a display of confidence he has not shown since the beginning of their encounter.

Though The Spirit of the Laws is not simply a "financial treatise," it displays a masterful grasp of the science of modern economics that Montesquieu in fact helped formulate in his most famous work. [1] On the basis of such competence, Montesquieu presumes a superiority over Machiavelli and has held this subject matter in reserve as a final obstacle to Machiavelli's goal. It is understood as his "last stand," as it were, from a position he deems unassailable.

Though Machiavelli has accomplished a great deal thus far, "he has only just begun," compared with what remains for him to do. Machiavelli coyly encourages Montesquieu by assuming the defensive and playing to what his adversary deems the real basis of his superiority. A tone of deferential modesty is struck. "I confess that you take me somewhat aback. I was born in a century extremely backward when it comes to matters of economics and I understand very little about such things."

Machiavelli takes the position of student to teacher and allows Montesquieu to expound his doctrines confidently. After his previous rout, Montesquieu would only be too eager to press any advantage he has. Though Machiavelli claims to be extremely backward in economic matters, he shortly will reveal his knowledge as up to date. It includes the "latest theories" and might be said to supercede the liberal understanding in such matters. We eventually come to realize that Machiavelli has maneuvered Montesquieu into a position that will render his defeat all the more resounding and definitive.

Liberal Economics Explained

Montesquieu proceeds as if it were he that was baiting Machiavelli. According to his view of despotic government, the tyrant necessarily rules over a primitive economy and a less than enterprising population. Destitution is the common lot and any wealth that does exist makes it's way to the despot's hands. Under such conditions, there is neither the means nor the will for society to generate its own wealth. As The Spirit of the Laws indicates, it follows as "a principle" of that government that the despot can impose "only small taxes" on his subjects. [2] To finance their rule, the sovereigns of such societies are forced to plunder others, relying on arms for what industry can not produce. Having some inkling of Machiavelli's aggressive designs in foreign policy, Montesquieu feigns naivete when he wonders aloud if his despotism will follow suit. In this case, the subjects of Machiavelli's regime might at least avoid an oppressive taxation. "Will you at least give your subjects the same satisfaction?"

For his part, Machiavelli asserts that there is "nothing more questionable than the proposition" put forth in that particular part of The Spirit of the Laws. [3] Montesquieu's theory might be true "in Turkey or in Persia" but he does not intend to rule a satrapy. To say the least, the praise of oriental despotism at the end of the Fifth Dialogue stands qualified. He intends to rule a luxurious European kingdom whose labor economy generates a superfluity of goods and whose government provides a broad range of services.

How could Montesquieu expect him to limit himself to moderate taxes when he has both the opportunity and need to tax on a larger scale? In modern societies, "labor produces a superabundance of wealth that presents itself in various forms -- all amenable to taxes." Moreover, luxury is a tool of modern governments. The state undertakes extensive public services. These create posts for functionaries who enjoy great salaries at public expense. An active and munificent rule will prove costly. The main question is how its revenue needs can be met.

Looking to past experience, Montesquieu sees this absolute ruler as forced to warfare to meet the financial needs that cannot be met internally without crushing his subjects. "He would have to be a conqueror, for war would be the principal source of those revenues that would keep him in splendor and support his armies." However, this presents its own problems, not the least of which is the necessity to remain victorious in such foreign undertakings if the despot himself is not to find his wealth confiscated by others. In a sort of vicious circle, the despot turns to war for his finances. But to guarantee his success in war, he needs greater and greater wherewithal.

Moreover, unlike the past, the conduct of war in contemporary times is complicated for an even more substantial reason. Given the destructive power of modern weaponry, large-scale warfare, to which the despot is driven, has become outmoded. [4] The expense of war, for lack of better motives, makes its conduct prohibitive. "War is no longer profitable." There can be no rational incentive for Machiavelli's despot to pursue a course that ends by ruining "the conqueror as well as the conquered." Inevitably, then, revenue must be raised internally, through taxes. It is precisely here that Machiavelli's despot would seem to receive his strongest check.

In despotic states, Montesquieu points out, there exists a "legal fiction" that allows the despot to tax at will. "The sovereign is presumed to possess all the goods of his subject by right." Therefore, when he expropriates something, he is only taking back what belongs to him in the first place. He thus finds little resistance on the part of the people. Legally, at least, there is no recourse.

Modern society is informed by a different understanding of things. Government is instituted to protect subjects who cede to it only those powers necessary for guaranteeing their security and possessions. When modern governments appropriate, they are perceived to be taking private property.This is why such action must be sanctioned by the people, or their representatives, who assUl'e the spending of monies for necessary and agreed-upon common purposes. Far from being based on a "legal fiction," both appropriations and spending follow a "due process of law" premised on "informed" consent and popular control.

To remain absolute, the prince must be free to dispose of the resources procured for him by taxes. His actions are "above discussion and control." This matter is crucial to Machiavelli's rule. If the new prince cannot control finances absolutely, he cannot remain absolute politically. The whole reign "threatens to collapse on this score."

Machiavelli's easy acceptance of popular control over his budget seems to Montesquieu testimony of his interlocutor's naivete in such matters. In letting the power of the purse stay in the hands of the nation's representatives, Machiavelli has surrendered the most fundamental of powers to the people. "This principle is the clearest token of the people's sovereignty." Giving the people the right to vote taxes means giving them the right "to refuse, limit, or reduce to nothing the power of the prince to act." As Machiavelli stated earlier, the prince will likely find it easier to trifle with the people's liberties than with matters where their material interests are so clearly involved. In sum, their interests are bound to an economic regime antithetical to despotism. [5]

Moreover, "those who vote taxes are taxpayers themselves." Their concern in such matters is inextricable with that of the nation. This conduces to vigilance on the part of representatives who regard such affairs with eyes wide open. The new prince will find the nation's representatives as "adamant and unaccommodating in appropriating money" as he found them "docile with regard to liberties."

Machiavelli makes two points that reveal the weakness of Montesquieu 's argument. Dealing with his last point first, Machiavelli points out that, taxpayers or not, the representatives of the nation are salaried. They may be disciplined by the leadership and lose positions of importance, along with their emoluments. They are not disinterested guardians of the nation's purse. Their votes may be assured by making spending decisions they favor. Montesquieu does not deny the validity of Machiavelli's counterarguments. Ultimately, fiscal matters are a question of votes like any other piece of legislation and the prince will have an assured majority within the legislature.

More important, Montesquieu exaggerates his case when he assumes parsimony on the part of an "enlightened" group of citizens as well as an unyielding jealousy over their prerogatives in fiscal matters. He might very well be right if the new prince based his power on the aristocracy or the bourgeoisie. However, the foundations of his rule rests upon "the proletariat, the bulk of which possess nothing." Machiavelli repeats an argument of Part One when he states that, unlike the propertied classes, fiscal niceties do not inform the character, interests, and habits of the working class. Since the "costs of supporting the state are hardly borne by them," he will take further steps so that "they are completely exempt from any burden." In the expanded franchise, he will have the votes to extract necessary revenues by encouraging the predatory instincts of the poor. [6]

Montesquieu very soberly rebukes such a policy. The poor must be made to see their interests as resting with a system that advances their liberation from poverty, not in plundering the sources of wealth. It is a grave error to believe that the proletariat can profit from such attacks. The best promise for the poor lies in encouraging productivity and expanding the base of capital. "By impoverishing the haves through fiscal measures, you will only be creating an unstable social situation. In time, even the have-nots will be totally impoverished." A secure social and political order is a prerequisite for the release of society's productive forces and is ill-served by a mortal class warfare that Machiavelli's policies invite.

Montesquieu apparently is blind to the great concentration of wealth that Machiavelli sees today. "In contemporary society," he states, "there is no rigid line of demarcation between the rich and the poor," at least in any permanent sense. "Through labor, the artisan of yesterday can be the bourgeois of tomorow." Though he assumes he speaks from the most advanced historical point of view, Montesquieu is perhaps describing the liberal regime in only its nascent stages. He is oblivious to the rapid social changes wrought by industrialization in the interval of years hidden from his view. In any event, Machiavelli indicates that he is fully capable of countering his interlocutor's "pretty theories" with those of his own. In fact, his are presented as more harmonious with the conditions of "contemporary society" and its historic demands. As we shall see, such theories do not contemplate class warfare to bring about the necessary social revolution.

Such a policy would run counter to the conservative instincts of the new prince and the desire for order that is repeatedly demonstrated in the political steps he took in Part Two. All revolutionary change is meticulously veiled and takes place behind the facade of liberal institutions. The prince is a self-declared harbinger of peace and intends to found a dynasty. Such a political project, with no mean pretensions to personal glory, cannot endure on the basis of a politics that appeals to class warfare. By and large, Machiavelli accepts the premises of Montesquieu's arguments.

Machiavelli will show that the productive potential of the modern economy might be augmented tremendously by an expanded and more dynamic role for government that simultaneously serves imperial ambitions and embraces certain welfare policies. In the latter half of Part Three, Machiavelli indicates how he will assume greater control over the resources of society .By exploiting them, he will gain his glory and win over the forgotten masses to his side. This awaits a discussion in Part Four of the Dialogue of the grand public works projects he envisions for his reign.

Financial Management

Montesquieu cuts Machiavelli short from elaborating his theories at this moment. He prefers to counter Machiavelli's "two points." Even if Machiavelli were to work from a majority in the legislature, his designs on absolute power would be encumbered by the science of finance that informs "the financial mechanisms" of modern enlightened societies. Like the development of public law, the science of finance has gone through progressive refinements designed to counter the exercise of arbitrary power in state fiscal matters. "In free industrialized countries, everyone is acquainted with financial management either out of necessity or out of personal or professional interests. Your government could not deceive anyone," Montesquieu affirms.

Machiavelli feigns ignorance in order to elicit an elaboration of this science, which Montesquieu gives in summary form. His financial system rests on two foundations: an intricate scheme of accountability that minutely categorizes appropriations and expenditures, and the coherent presentation of its documentation as a matter of public record, to be voted on as any other piece of legislation. The prince's initiatives are "controlled" by the most popular branch of government, following close public scrutiny of these money matters. The prince will not be able to tamper with public funds without alerting his subjects to his predatory actions.

"The whole work of financial management, so vast and complicated, can be reduced to two very simple operations: appropriations and expenditures. " One of the most important innovations in state finances has been the State Budget, which brings these operations to light on a year-to-year basis. Within that document is an estimate of revenues from various taxes and their allocation toward various state goals.

In short, each minister, responsible for his own department, prepares his own budget, which he submits to the Minister of Finance. The latter's duty is to prepare a budget for the whole government based on other ministers' requests. The legislature amends and votes on the budget plan, like any other bill. The budget is a yearly submittal and in it the economic health of the nation can be gauged while government expenditures can be tracked on a department by department basis. Any requested increase will have to be justified as the budget goes through multiple readings and revisions in the legislature. Before it is voted, the plan is submitted to the public and dissected and discussed by all interested parties.

Although it is voted on like any other piece of legislation, the budget is no ordinary measure. It is as much a political as it is a financial statement. Its bulk of figures, when properly analyzed, reveals the basic commitment of the government and the broad outline of domestic and foreign policy. "This impressive document is published, printed, and reproduced in a thousand newspapers and reveals to all eyes the domestic and foreign policy of the state and its civil, judicial, and military administration."

Montesquieu continues his discussion of the budget in the Nineteenth Dialogue. All other financial reforms are an emanation and refinement of this budgetary system, which is standard in all modern, well-regulated societies. Proper budgeting requires the balancing of expenditures and revenues. In this matter, there has been recourse to "a very prudent expedient." The legislature votes the revenue and appropriations parts of the budget in turns. Having first passed the revenue part, expenses can be tailored and allocated accordingly. Desired expenditures will not then be determinative of the revenues to be raised. Rather, given revenues will be the frame for essential expenditures. This will keep individual legislators from getting carried away by any spending excesses. The two elements of the budget will then be harmonized by a comprehensive vote of the legislature.

Machiavelli would like Montesquieu to address the matter of emergency spending beyond the scope of the State Budget. "But can it be that expenditures are restricted to only what has been voted by the legislature? Is it in the power of a legislative body so to cripple the executive, to forbid a sovereign to appropriate for unforeseen expenses through emergency measures? In fact, exactness is not always possible or expected. Changing political circumstances -- a foreign attack, for example -- may require unanticipated expenditures for which there is no budgetary provision. The system simply has to admit a certain amount of elasticity.

Machiavelli ties to exploit this loophole to elude the limitations set by the budget process elaborated by Montesquieu. Montesquieu closes off any such opening. The limitations to any emergency spending are necessarily very strict if legislative prerogative is not to be sacrificed. Regardless of changing circumstances, there remains only a finite amount of resources. "Political events cannot force financial realities to change from one moment to another ."

Emergency appropriations must be ratified by the legislature in any case. If it is not in session, they must be ratified when it reconvenes. If it is, they must be authorized by going through the ordinary legislative process. Sufficient revenues must exist to cover any spending, otherwise a supplementary appropriation must be attached to such a bill. Moreover, Montesquieu explains, all unused appropriations must revert to the general fund. They cannot be set aside for the prince as discretionary spending in future years. If diverting funds is the design of the prince, it is made even more difficult by a system of line-item budgeting and subsidiary accounts for each department and government agency.

That is, expenditures within these budgets are further broken down into easily categorized expenditures common to all agencies. Each subsidiary account, personnel expenses, for example, receives its own appropriation. This sets a limit on that particular spending. Any unused portions of an allocation must revert to the general fund. There is to be no transfer among accounts. Otherwise, "by an ingenious subterfuge," the prince could evade the legislatively designated destination of spending and we would return to arbitrary finance. A treasurer and a board of auditors oversee the whole arrangement to guarantee the regular movement of monies and the accuracy of bookkeeping.

A Revolution in Fiscal Practices

Machiavelli facetiously confesses to be "dumbfounded" by all this and to have been taken at his most vulnerable point. As a practical matter, he applauds the application of strict accounting techniques to state fiscal affairs and the orderly approach to the movement of monies. He will adopt these reforms but not the "plethora of precautions" he calls "puerile." For his part, he speaks from a more exalted view of things. He is a "statesman" not an accountant. In fact, he will adopt "all these marvels" of accounting, all these financial reforms and have them redound to the splendor of his reign.

He is perhaps not so "dumbfounded" by Montesquieu and as vulnerable as he lets on. In a surprising statement, he claims that the question of finance is, of all political concerns, the one that lends itself most easily to the maxims of The Prince. The spirit of reform that Machiavelli will bring to such matters is consistent with his statements in Part One, where he attempted to lay bare the essentials of his political teaching, for which he claims "eternal relevancy."

In effect, Machiavelli asserts here, as before, that Montesquieu's science describes a system as it ought to be, not how in fact states conduct real affairs. It is foolish to be guided by what never attains in the real world. "I answer that it is necessary to will the possible and that what holds universally cannot but be done. " He will look to the real practices of states that only theoretically operate under the financial system outlined by Montesquieu.

He accuses Montesquieu of elevating the standards of private morality as the standard for political action. The principles that have supposedly brought the budget process to its "perfection" are those which inform "household management." He might have pointed out that "economics" as "household management" was the original meaning of the Greek word but we are here dealing with modern societies that operate on different, more complex principles. Indeed, any move toward "perfection" for Machiavelli is premised on getting away from such antiquated and ill-conceived notions.

Since Machiavelli has mentioned The Prince, Montesquieu. confronts him with his own teaching on fiscal matters found there. "What I find surprising is that your financial theories are in patent contradiction with what you said in The Prince, where you strictly recommend parsimony for the prince, even avarice." Montesquieu, like Machiavelli a short while ago, here points to inconsistencies between the person before him and the texts he has written. Given the resplendent reign Machiavelli envisions, he would seem to be acting contrary to his own maxims. [7]

Machiavelli retorts with an even more fundamental principle of The Prince. Above all, the prince must remain flexible and change with circumstances. This is an updated Machiavellian teaching apropos of the nineteenth century, as the subtitle of Joly's work indicates. He will act in accord with the requirements of the times and the unique opportunities they afford to despotism. Contrary to Montesquieu, we may not assume the niggardliness of modern peoples. These are not times of scarcity but, we shall see, of new hopes in the possibility of plenty, brought by a technological society, reformed to exploit it to the utmost.

Precisely because he, and not Montesquieu, really knows the character of modern peoples, he need not rescind popular sovereignty in the matter of state finances. Taxes will be duly voted and collected; the people's representatives will also approve expenditures. "The people who acclaim me do not merely tolerate the splendor of the throne. They positively crave it" and look to the prince for a vicarious sense of power. "They really hate only one thing -- wealth in their peers."

Machiavelli begins his reform of the Montesquieuan system of financial management by loosening its restraints. He is like the "giant in the fairytale," he says, bound by pygmies when he sleeps. He awakes and shatters his fetters without even knowing he was tied.

First and foremost, he will take advantage of the power that the coup affords him. Just as the coup was used to introduce the necessary changes in the constitution, it will also justify the streamlining of financial management. In fact, a new budget, following his accession to power, will be declared extraordinarily "by decree." Legal ways will return in subsequent years, but with some changes, of course.

For Machiavelli, the board of auditors poses no real threat. It is a "book-keeper's office" that can not prevent funds from being voted and expended. As a source of information, it is perhaps of some use but its reports do not really go too far beyond the data in the budget. As a purely administrative body, it is under the prince's control. Having no power of remonstrance, it need not worry the prince. The other safeguards to which Montesquieu alluded win not be met with such forbearance. In true Machiavellian spirit, however, nothing will be changed directly. As he encounters certain regulations upon assuming more legal ways, he merely proposes to regulate a little in return.

He will do away with the division of the budgetary process into a revenue vote followed by an expenditure vote. Finances are better handled when expenditures are voted piecemeal, with expenditure decisions adjusted as you go along. His is a "diligent" government and he does not want to waste precious time by unnecessary formalities. The intent of such a measure is to let the expenditure side of the budget determine the overall balance. Extraordinary budgets no longer need to have retroactive legislative ratification. The gist of this reform is the same. It removes fiscal discipline from executive spending.

The "spirit" of such reforms extends to line-item budgeting. Where subsidiary accounts pinpointed allocated expense, Machiavelli prefers gross blocs of appropriations for each agency. This grants greater discretion in the use of funds. [8] He will retain the prohibition against the transfer of funds, but only between ministries, not within or among agencies.

At the end of the Nineteenth Dialogue, Machiavelli gives the impression that he has finished with the discussion of such matters. What he has already indicated is sufficient to show Montesquieu that he is not restrained by mere parchment barriers. As a man of the Middle Ages, Machiavelli is supposedly unversed in modern financial matters. His statements seem to reflect a certain prejudice against the detailed consideration of a topic for which he, speaking as a statesman from a former era, has a certain disdain.

For Montesquieu, however, the "reforms" Machiavelli lists are not sufficient. He may exercise greater discretion in the deployment of funds, but he is still limited by the overall budgetary "frame," the boundaries of which may be broken through but not without "peril." For Machiavelli, however, it is an "elastic" frame that can be "stretched as far as wanted." He will in any event remain "within it, never outside," he declares. In the Twentieth Dialogue, Montesquieu gives Machiavelli the opportunity to explain what he means.

Machiavelli now assumes the teacher's role from Montesquieu and begins to elaborate the devices at his disposal. Individually, the changes are too "subtle" to attract the attention of citizens, let alone signal any alarms. There is no reason that they should disquiet them any more than any other political measure. As Machiavelli prefaced this discourse, they are the common practices of all existing societies and it is from such practices, not abstract theories, that he seeks guidance.

However, such statements belie the revolutionary design he has in store for his economic policies. In fact, he posits a new role for government within the economic sphere that finally "dumbfounds" Montesquieu and silences him. It is an understanding of political economy that challenges the presumptions of early liberalism that define Montesquieu's view. What begins with a recitation of some common executive practices in budgetary matters ends with rather uncommon conclusions for economic theory tout court. [9]

Machiavelli doubts that the State Budget imposes any rigid limitation on the prince. For Machiavelli, it is "nothing but a provisional measure," a projection of principal financial trends. There are in fact other extraordinary budgets which correct, revise, or add to the main State Budget: emergency budgets, supplementary budgets, deficiency budgets. The financial situation at any given moment is never definitive. Machiavelli endeavors to show that there is considerable elasticity in the system to accommodate the prince.

Machiavelli proceeds as if the requirement that expenditures balance with revenues were just a matter of. bookkeeping. Devices to ensure the proper "balance" are myriad. Certain projected revenues, for example, may be used to off-set present expenditures. Present expenditures may also be deferred to future budgets. The extraordinary budgets can be deftly handled to disguise certain costs. They will be treated essentially as appendices to the main budget and not be subsumed under its revenue limitations. In fact, each year, you will have "many budgets." In this way, "at the end often years, the budget can be doubled or tripled" beyond allocations in the main State Budget.

To this point, Machiavelli has avoided the real thrust of Montesquieu's contentions. In saying that the budget itself will constrain the prince, Montesquieu means that certain fiscal realities must be faced. By and large, the artifices that Machiavelli employs are merely ways to sequester monies within already appropriated sums. They may garner substantial revenues for the prince but not on the order he wishes. More important, they do not produce any wherewithal for the prince beyond that appropriated in the budgets.

Will he, "like Julius Caesar," find fabulous sums in the coffers of the state? Perhaps he intends to discover the equivalent of the "Potosi mines," Montesquieu facetiously comments. To attain desired revenues Machiavelli has two real choices: raising taxes or borrowing. If it is true that peoples in modern states are niggardly and jealous, they simply will not stand for confiscatory taxes. It follows that Machiavelli will be forced to borrow.
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:49 am

Part 2 of 2

The Role of Public Debt in their Respective Schemes

Montesquieu briefly seizes the initiative once again to elaborate on the system of debt financing in modern states. [10] In forcing Machiavelli's admission of his dependence on borrowing, Montesquieu believes he has maneuvered him into a position of weakness. "This is what I wanted you to say." In fact, the rest of the discussion of Part Three concerns borrowing and how Machiavelli will escape the last restraint by which Montesquieu secures the tyrant. Once again, we see Machiavelli give a step-by-step description of how he will undermine Montesquieu's scheme.

Montesquieu acknowledges the necessity of borrowing but only for all "but a few governments." Those which do resort to "such expedients do so with great caution." It is both "immoral" and "dangerous" to "weigh down future generations with exorbitant burdens beyond the limits of any foreseeable resources." Modern states that want to escape an exclusive reliance on a burdensome and possibly self-defeating taxation turn to borrowing. These borrowing needs are handled by sinking fund arrangements, a scheme that "is truly admirable in its simplicity and mode of execution." According to such" scheme, sums can be gathered for a price (interest) and paid off piecemeal by putting aside each year a certain portion of the borrowed sum. The borrowed sum (principal) along with the interest will be redeemed in full after the time allotted the borrower. The public debt is thus liquidated by successive fractions paid yearly.

If constantly required to amortize, borrowing will not be taken lightly. The government's integrity is on the line and its solvency is a precondition for further borrowing. The people will authorize debts only when the obligation can be easily met. Surprisingly, Machiavelli shows himself as no neophyte when it comes to such matters. He points to the practice of England, which has been known to suspend debt payments on more than one occasion. For his part, he will keep the amortization scheme, which has "certain advantages."

It is Machiavelli who in fact has manipulated Montesquieu to the matter of borrowing, upon which rests the final burden of restraining the prince. At this point, the previously deferential Machiavelli heaps scorn on Montesquieu and his theories. For Machiavelli, deficit financing is a matter to be handled, not so much by financial officers, as by the press. The prince's skillful propagandists will reassure the people who ultimately authorize the debt. All of Montesquieu's previous discourse on this science is parodied and used as a smokescreen for Machiavelli ' s financial intrigues.

Montesquieu had previously stated that the science of modern finance fundamentally relies on the control and public accountability that the budget process affords. As it turns out, the new prince escapes the "control" of that process principally through borrowing, an action that takes place "off budget." Moreover, the press itself can be effectively employed to justify the ways of the prince as proceeding from more enlightened economic theories. The press, which was to shed all possible light on the activities of the prince, is really a tool that can be used to produce powerful effects on "the minds of bourgeois blockheads."

The limits to fiscally appropriate borrowing are disputed and are presented by Machiavelli as an outmoded understanding of things. "I want my Minister of Finance to be perfectly clear in his use of statistics. Moreover, his literary style must be impeccably lucid." The people will see that the government operates on principles different from those that guide private affairs. No one will dispute that economics is amenable to the advances seen in other sciences.

Prosperity and productivity, the keynotes of his rhetoric, will in fact be fueled, at least initially, by the expenditures of borrowed monies. The government's solvency, which is the precondition of borrowing, must not be put into question by any yearly deficit. If less than predicted, it will be reported as a real triumph. If more, mitigating circumstances will be found, which, when they pass, will permit a return to tighter management. As Machiavelli illustrates in considerable detail, there is no dearth of ways that budgetary statistics can be presented and manipulated if the common faith of the times in material and theoretical progress is not disturbed. The confidence of the prince in the power of his propaganda is nowhere more in evidence than here.

In the last dialogue of this part, the Twenty-First, Machiavelli doggedly attempts to dispel Montesquieu's prejudice against borrowing, which is touted for many different reasons. Through it, "whole families are made dependent on the government." [11] Moreover, "contemporary economics recognizes that far from impoverishing the state, public debt enriches it." It is interesting that for the second time in this part, an offer by Machiavelli to elaborate "new theories" is rejected.

Montesquieu is presumptuous enough to think that he knows such theories. He has been consistent in this respect throughout and has not changed from the very beginning when Machiavelli's opening statement is greeted as "nothing new." Though not explicitly spelled out, we may infer a new economic and industrial policy from the schemes Machiavelli elaborates. Montesquieu's presumptuousness notwithstanding, they point economic policy in a wholly new direction that challenges the fundamental presuppositions of liberalism by dramatically changing the organization of the productive forces of society. [12]

Rather than listening to a theoretical discourse, Montesquieu would first rather like to know the source of the prince's borrowed capital as well as the reasons for raising it. To provide a rationale for raising monies, the prince may always call a foreign war. It is interesting, however, that Machiavelli does not intend to use these monies exclusively for war-making purposes. A domestic end is also in view, as he explains. "Only one-half to two-thirds of such a sum need be spent. The rest finds its way into the treasury for domestic expenditures."

The rough sums that he envisions from war requisitions are three-quarters of what is allotted in the State Budget. This is clearly an enormous sum of money, equal to "the total wealth of certain states." It would certainly be beyond the capacity of any banks to finance such a sum. As it turns out, it is not Machiavelli's intention at all to seek funding from such sources. The whole idea is ridiculed as bespeaking a "dark age" mentality.

In modern times, the small cartel of money merchants is broken. Sufficient monies can be had cheaply if banking institutions are initially bypassed. The prince will issue government securities in denominations that can be afforded by the common artisan. Money will be taken from under mattresses and invested in government bonds.

Substantial sums can be generated immediately this way. Interests rates offered by banks fall in competitive bidding with the government. Machiavelli presents a scheme that intends to undermine the strength of the traditional bank. It is far better to satisfy borrowing needs by addressing all of the country's subjects -- "the rich, the poor, artisans, manufacturers, anyone who has a penny at his disposal." In this way, such "excellent investments" break the monopolist hold of banks over finance and succeed in attaching "whole families" to the government.

Machiavelli will also resort to a very clever ploy. After issuing his securities, he will announce that demand has so far outstripped supply that he will be forced to return several millions to would-be investors who "rush from all sides" to buy shares rising at a substantial premium. Things get to "a fever pitch." [13] The prince's tactic will underscore the desirability of such investments and inspire an all-important confidence in a government that acts with such exemplary forebearance and honesty. "Judge for yourself how great an effect this will have on the public mind."

Machiavelli will have even more money than Montesquieu can imagine. The small cartel of private banks are replaced by "great banking institutions," now common to all modern societies. They are capable of lending to the state, at prime rates," sums equivalent to a quarter of the yearly State Budget. For all intents and purposes, government has subsumed the banking function. Later, it becomes clear that these government institutions of credit exist to lend money to large industrial enterprises and to coordinate the financial needs of the country's industrial structure.

Beyond banks, other government authorities, with their own revenue sources, are capable of lending additional sums to the government. Moreover, pension funds, health insurance plans, and savings schemes may tap even vaster sums that will be "deposited in the public treasury" where they will mix with general revenues. The subjects of the prince are modern men, preoccupied above all with security concerns that a materialistic government serves. We are here given some indication of the myriad "public services," controlled by the state, that prompted Machiavelli in the beginning to reject a parsimonious government. What were formerly matters of personal responsibility now are concerns of the state and a cover for the prince's revenue needs.

How Debts are "Dealt With"

Machiavelli has proved that there are indeed numerous schemes for securing necessary funds. The problem arises when such debts fall due. Montesquieu turns the discussion to how Machiavelli will pay back what he has borrowed. If he is not to act like the "common stock jobber," his debts must somehow be paid off. Machiavelli will presently show his interlocutor how his debts "will be dealt with." The choice of words is apt, he declares, because debts can not always be paid but somehow always must be met. There are several ways.

He might resort to taxes. But, it will be recalled, he originally turned to borrowing in the first place to avoid resorting to this inherently unpopular step. Nevertheless, modern society is amenable to a diversity of tax measures, the burdens of which can be artfully disguised. If the tax route is .not taken, it is more perhaps due to a lack of imagination and initiative than to any really formidable impediment. There are still other ways, once tax possibilities are exhausted.

The outstanding public debt can be consolidated under a uniform rate of interest and then, if need be, converted to a lower rate. Agreement to the new interest rate is accepted or the principal is immediately returned. The mentality of the common investor inhibits him from taking this option. Montesquieu really does not know these stockholders. Ever creatures of habit, they prefer an investment at a lower rate than to return their monies to their mattresses, especially when they have become accustomed to new-found paper wealth. In this way, substantial sums of interest can be annulled in a single stroke.

In effect, Machiavelli has succeeded in drawing the common artisan and workingman into his investment schemes. The small scale of their disposable income, as well as their inherent conservatism, makes them reliable supports for the grander designs of the prince. They are predictable investors, not the speculators whose placement of funds can leverage markets. Machiavelli has inculcated a new way of thinking in such types, previously untouched by economic concerns. Their new interests have been made complicit with those of the prince, and serve ends of a wholly different scale and order.

As to principal costs, recourse can be had to a different expedient. Debts can be "rolled over," that is to say, refinanced. As debts fall due, investors can be reissued another certificate of indebtedness and the due date postponed to a more auspicious time. This can be applied to all "floating debts." Montesquieu objects that the prince will jeopardize the solvency of his government and its credit standing. Its bonds will be spurned first in foreign markets and then at home.

Finally, just as Machiavelli would control the press by the press and conspiracies by conspiracies, he would control financial markets by financial markets themselves. Great credit institutions that serve the designs and needs of government would be able to bolster the price of the prince's securities if they were to sag too much by buying up great quantities. Opposite pressures can be relieved by having these institutions sell securities. By means of such action, the prince can virtually create or destroy the fortunes of investors. Montesquieu ends this discussion with a taunt. The prince's favorites, his ministers and mistresses, privy to the state's financial secrets, will be able to reap large fortunes. Machiavelli agrees that indeed the favored will be rewarded, whereas a "thunderbolt" awaits those who stand in his way. [14]

The Principles of the Economic Revolution Fleshed Out

Ostensibly, Part Three is an exercise in how Machiavelli manipulates the budget. Montesquieu has kept the conversation limited to such a topic and away from the views of "modern economists today" whose theories he already presumes to know. Nevertheless, in accord with those views, though unstated, Machiavelli holds out the promise of. a vast expansion of productive capacity by a strategic infusion of public monies into the economy. Beyond the Machiavellian devices at his disposal in manipulating the budget, he can perhaps "deal with his debts" through unprecedented economic growth, centrally planned and directed. Implicit in his discussion are the germs of an economic theory that transcends the frame of understanding of Montesquieuan liberalism as it belies Montesquieu's claim to speak authoritatively about such matters.

Machiavelli calls for a new and dynamic role for government in economic society .Unlike oriental despotism, heavy sacrifices are placed on the nation to support extensive "public services" and a "brilliant" and "great" court at the apex of a large centralized administrative structure. Tremendous revenues are needed, not as Montesquieu presumes, to satisfy tyrannical appetites and to furnish the prince and his cohorts with luxuries. Through the active intervention of the government, in conjunction with the advance of technology and applied science, productivity might be greatly improved. This could generate enough public monies to retire public debts easily but also for programs that help minimize the threat of revolution emanating from the masses and assure the popularity he seeks for despotism.

The specifics of his economic program await a discussion of the grand public works programs in the next part of the Dialogue. The foundations for that policy lie, however, in the budgetary and banking revolution adumbrated in this part. The steps of the prince are directed by a new economic theory that can be fully measured against the background of Montesquieuan liberalism as it is presented in the Dialogue.

The Economic Premises of Montesquiean Economics

Montesquieu's thought is informed by classic notions of liberalism that Machiavelli at one point facetiously likens to a "dark age" mentality. His system implies a parsimonious government not only because it was understood to be dependent on the requisitions of a grudging people but because of the limited role government was to perform. "The tendency of economics is to see the political apparatus merely as a necessary but very costly mechanism, whose workings must be simplified. It reduces the role of government to such elementary functions that its greatest drawback perhaps is to destroy government's prestige." [15]

Briefly, the first task facing men is to end the state of nature. Government must be instituted to control the predatory instincts of the species. The next task, equally important to man's well being, is to control government itself. This is the historic task that Montesquieu set himself in his political teaching. As Montesquieu explained earlier, government is mechanistically arranged to control itself. Furthermore, any invasion of rights was to be resisted by an enlightened populace, upon which rested ultimate authority. His arrangement presumes vigilance on the part of the people to keep government properly restrained.

The role of government was limited. Its primary function was as arbiter and guarantor of social peace. Within a protected private sphere, the liberty of the individual would find expression in the self-interested pursuit of material betterment and the accumulation of property. Unfettered from certain religious and governmental restraints, such motives would be given scope and force. Properly channeled by institutions and law, such self-interested pursuits would also serve the interests of society as a whole by protecting the wealth in which all share, through commerce and trade. It was therefore in government's interest to protect property and that private sphere as the precondition of society's prospering and as the guarantee of its own perpetuation. In sum, its natural tendency to aggrandizement had to be curbed and incentives established to restrain its activist tendencies.

A restricted role for government would seemingly give the greatest play to man's productive capacities. Competition among individual producers arises naturally, keeping the costs of production at prices accessible to consumers while encouraging innovation and enterprise. In such a scheme, the sovereign is discharged from the duty of regulating a society that, under enlightened conditions, is extraordinarily capable of self-regulation. This leaves the greatest amount of natural liberty to the individual while it conduces to the material security that was the motive behind forming society in the first place. To attempt to regulate modern society is thus counterproductive. It would expose the sovereign to innumerable delusions because of the insufficiency of human wisdom to properly supervise the myriad industries and employment of peoples. At the same time, it would require granting dangerous powers to direct such enterprises and coerce individuals from whom the strongest and most reliable motive to work has been removed. It is for these reasons that, according to Montesquieu at least, the maxims derived from the study of modern economies are "most contrary to the concentration of power."

Joly's Machiavelli, however, sees an end to such a restricted role for government. Like Marx, he presents himself as speaking from a view that sees liberal society as having reached an advanced stage. Society is now vast, diversified, and increasingly interdependent. The role of government, even as arbiter, would naturally grow apace. State finances, the subject of Part Three, becomes an increasingly important factor as government plays the central role in the economic and social nexus.

Joly's Machiavelli shows how the increased economic leverage of government might be used by the modern tyrant. In controlling the powers to borrow, spend, and tax, he controls the power to reward and punish, as the concluding reflections in this part suggest. Such are formidable weapons in the hands of the modern ruler. With such economic tools, he need not rely on a crude fear to bend his subjects to his will. "To rule today does not require committing atrocities, or decapitating your enemies, confiscating the goods of your subjects, or engaging in widespread torture." Such measures are passe, especially with other more fastidious weapons at his disposal. But beyond the exercise of such economic leverage, Machiavelli intends even more fundamental changes. He will bring into being a new social arrangement appropriate to developments that, presumably, have rendered liberal theories obsolete.

According to Montesquieu, the people are bound to an economic regime that is "inimical to despotism." Therefore, if Machiavelli is not supreme in this sphere, he will not be in the political one. The logic of Machiavelli's despotism thus leads him to an attack on society, understood by Montesquieu as effectively preserved from government encroachment because it would run counter to the material benefits modern peoples enjoy from the freedom allotted them. But, as Machiavelli points out, such benefits do not extend to the masses and economic niceties do not form part of their character. These represent vast reservoirs of peoples in the latter stages of capitalism that Machiavelli describes. Indeed, society is not as fluid or dynamic as Montesquieu implies and its benefits exclude the most numerous and turbulent classes "riveted" to work by poverty. The new prince has their interests and desires as his constant preoccupation. In winning them over, he finds the broadest base for his regime.

According to Machiavelli, social stratification has reasserted itself wjthin modern societies. Ultimately, it is inherited wealth, an accident of birth, which perpetuates privilege. A misplaced respect for the principle of inheritance is a vestige of aristocratic times and gives rise to a class of idle rich as the modern counterpart to the idle nobility .In the end, they are as unproductive as the "intemperate gentleman's son," as Joly's Montesquieu so aptly puts it. Their existence is inappropriate to the society of the future as the land, workshops, and capital come under the prince's direction in an attempt to control the whole society as if one interconnected enterprise. In such a view, government becomes a tutelary power of vast proportions, like the society of India, which receives Machiavelli's praise in this respect at the end of the Fifth Dialogue.

According to this view, the revolutions that menace modern societies derive from the inadequate coordination of society and the putative failure of private markets to efficiently organize production and assure a broader distribution of goods that include the masses. Machiavelli's financial reforms intend to bring centralized control through the State Budget and the allocation of key capital investments to increase productivity that will reduce the revolutionary threat. If successful in attenuating class conflict, he will bring about a new form of despotism, at once marked by mildness but potentially quite enduring. We might be witnessing the beginnings of "a frightful calm," the statement that stands at the beginning of Joly's work as a kind of motif.

In the "sketch" of the regime given in the Seventh Dialogue, Machiavelli declared he would borrow certain features from the very industrial order that elicits the admiration of Montesquieu. He will bring into existence immense monopolies. "The fate of all private fortunes would become completely dependent on these vast reservoirs of public wealth." Landed wealth would be kept "in a condition of relative inferiority" through taxes which intend to destroy inherited privilege. "Independent fortunes" in industry will be controlled by competition from huge government monopolies. "The point must be reached where the state is composed of nothing but proletarians, a few millionaires, and soldiers" -- the latter two groups being the least revolutionary elements in the state and the former exclusively cultivated by the policies of the prince.

The role of the market and individual enterprise as the primary engine of production and distribution comes to an end and is replaced by the sovereign's will and his dictates.

As head of my government, all my edicts, all my ordinances would constantly aim at the same goal -- the annihilation of independent powers, whether of groups or individuals, to develop the unlimited dominance of the state, making it the most powerful force in protecting, promoting, and remunerating society's activities.


With such a statement, we arrive at the furthest extreme from the limited government of Montesquieu's scheme. The individual exists solely in and through the prince, who personally undertakes decisions that were formerly made impersonally by the market. The prince directly assumes activities that were the preserve of the individual. He absorbs the social spheres that sheltered the citizen and afforded him opportunity to pursue his individual happiness. He thereby annihilates autonomy and responsibility, and the very possibilities of dignified existence.

As with the theory of despotism that originally. framed the understanding of Montesquieu and opened the discussion of this part, private property is effectively held at the sufferance of the sovereign. Indeed, we are told, there is not a "farthing" whose spending is not in some way connected to the wishes of the prince. However, all this occurs not in a primitive and backward society but in one of the most materially advanced societies of the world. Again, unlike what Montesquieu originally presumes, the despotism of the future will generate its revenues, initially at least, not from the conduct of a self-defeating war, but internally, from available resources. Unlike despotic regimes of old, "economics" is not a derivative of effective war making. Effective war making is a derivative of "economics." The modern prince will set out on his path of conquest, the subject of the next Part of the Dialogue, subsequent to his economic revolution.

The initial prospects for Machiavelli's revolution seemed promising at the rime Joly wrote. The perpetuation of such a regime was a different matter. Joly leads his contemporaries to ponder its prospects. [16] In the reflective light of history, we partisans of liberal regimes can draw the appropriate lessons from its rise and fall.

The next chapter addresses the manners and mores of the Machiavellian regime, a "moral revolution" as profound and extensive as that in the economic sphere.

_______________

Notes

1. See The Spirit of the Laws XX-XXII, which deal explicitly with commerce and money. Sorel writes that Montesquieu anticipates Adam Smith in attempting to "give scientific form to the problem of political economy." See Sorel, Montesquieu, 148.

2. Montesquieu's remarks at this point indicate an understanding of despotism that is limited to oriental varieties. These are classically described in The Spirit of the Laws. His consternation in the face of Machiavelli's regime, which assumes a modern, industrial society, can be traced to such thinking. The principles of force and fear that define despotism are progressively minimized in the Machiavellian revolution. In this part, we begin to see how the promise of economic prosperity shifts the foundation of despotism by winning popular support for the despot.

3. Machiavelli is referring to arguments found in The Spirit of the Laws XIII 10.

4. This argument was made repeatedly in the century following Joly, that is, the century that knew the greatest wars. It is still frequently heard today! Who wants to make war when there is so much money to be made in the "global village"? When there are so many places to go and people to meet?

We have been told that the existence of a McDonalds inside countries borders is a kind of gage of peace. I never understood why. Is it all the "happy meals" they serve?

The proliferation of war in the future is at least as inevitable as the proliferation of McDonalds.

5. Machiavelli remarks upon the vehemence with which Montesquieu asserts his proposition.

6. There is a parallel between economic policy here stated and policy pursued by the prince in regard to the pope. Anti-clerical elements are radicalized to energize the orthodox. Essentially, different groups are politicized and played off against each other. This creates the necessity for the prince to reassert control, while satisfying one group or an other in turns.

7. See The Prince XVI.

8. President Reagan was motivated by similar thinking when he advocated his re forms in the realm of "fiscal federalism" -- federal grants to local programs. However, the consolidation of accounts was proposed to encourage greater administrative discretion in the reduction of expenditures.

9. What is described is uncanny in its anticipation of key elements of what later be came known as Keynesian economics and more radical economic theories.

10. See The Spirit of the Laws XVII 18, "Of the Payment of Public Debts," where sinking fund arrangements are elaborated.

11. Contrary to the financial policies of Machiavelli's despot, who envisions a "bond-holding" society, Margaret Thatcher spoke of turning her country into a "stockholding" , society. This, of course, would make "whole families" dependent on the health of corporate Britain and loosen dependence on government (and unions) for the economic well-being of its citizens. The process is well advanced in America. In the span of a decade we changed from being a society of institutional "bondholders" to the "stockholder society" envisioned by Thatcher. The changes to the economy have been dramatic. The Chairman of the Federal Reserve has admitted to targeting the stock market in his management of the country's monetary policy. At the end of his tenure as President, the Democrat Clinton bragged about the Thatcherite change that took place in his administration. It should be kept in mind that the precipitous decline in the paper wealth of the untold millions of stockholders in the United States lies at the heart of the now current economic malaise. Is not this empowerment of "Wall Street" by Washington, direct and indirect, not without its own inherent dangers and potential abuses? What is now a "malaise" may later be a problem of a different order.

12. In The Spirit of the Laws, XXII 17, Montesquieu questions those theorists who insist that the state could "multiply riches" by turning to deficit financing. After listing the numerous disadvantages, he concludes baldly; "I know of no advantage."

13. As we in the United States all know now, investment schemes can take on a momentum of their own. "Irrational exuberance" has a way of setting in.

14. Among others, DeMorney, longtime friend and confident of Louis, became notorious for profiting in office from the financial schemes of the Second Empire.

15. Machiavelli implies that his financial revolution is meant to restore prestige to government.

16. As the quote from Montesquieu on the title page of Joly's work augurs: "soon," perhaps, people would unite against such a power.
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Re: The Dialogue in Hell Between Machiavelli and Montesquieu

Postby admin » Thu May 10, 2018 8:51 am

Chapter Six: THE MORAL REVOLUTION

Part Four consists of four dialogues, the Twenty-Second through the Twenty-Fifth. In the previous two parts of the Dialogue, Machiavelli shows in detail how he will surmount the obstacles to despotism in the political and financial system outlined by Montesquieu. Having heard Machiavelli, Montesquieu admits to not knowing "either the spirit of the laws or the spirit of finance" and facetiously thanks his interlocutor for having taught him both. They may now begin other topics in accord with the "wager" they have made. Machiavelli's prince is now absolute. "With such prodigious power, you will do great things," Montesquieu ironically quips in challenging Machiavelli to indicate how despotism will escape the odium in which it is normally held.

The discussion in Part Four reverts to the themes of Part One. There, Montesquieu contended that pure selfishness, implemented by Machiavellian means, could not be a consistent maxim of both prince and subject. At a minimum, if a regime is to endure, it must appeal to some notion of a greater good. It is not enough for Machiavelli to have gained complete power, even granting the momentousness of such an achievement. Machiavelli must justify the means he has used to gain rule by pointing to the redeeming ends that his despotism serves. In Part Four, Machiavelli endeavors to spell out the basis of a new "common good" between the ruler and the ruled that would endow his regime with the legitimacy necessary for its perpetuation. Machiavelli must prove his dictum that the end justifies the means. "It is finally the time to show that good can come from evil."

As the discussion progresses, we are given a fine portrait of the despot as he crucially shapes the character of the people to his rule. Joly's sensitive eye as a social analyst is nowhere more in evidence than in the vivid description of the manners and mores of the Napoleonic regime. On the deepest level, however, his artfulness intends to bring to life the character of a totally new order, the expression of a new historic epoch that succeeds the "constitutional era" defined by Montesquieu.

In the opening Dialogue of this part, Montesquieu adjures Machiavelli's prince to adopt the manners, not of an overbearing despot, but of Alfred the Great and "Godly Louis," who never ceased in their humble ministering to the poor. He also offers the ancient founders of austere republics as the proper models of one who would really seek the public welfare and the common good. Theirs was a legacy of liberty based on simplicity and decency and is meant to contrast most sharply with the legacy of Machiavelli's models, history's great conquerors and luxury-seeking emperors. Montesquieu understands himself as standing with his interlocutor "like the Atlas and the Taurus," as a republican polar opposite from the imperial Machiavelli. As it turns out, the whole movement of Part Four is led by Machiavelli to bridge the differences with Montesquieu over the principles of rule each admires. Like the "Godly Louis" and Alfred the Great, he declares himself to have the poor as the principal concern of his rule. Moreover, in the last Dialogue of this part, he shows how he will even claim for himself the mantle of champion of "liberty." At the conclusion of Joly's work, we are meant to contemplate the success of Machiavelli in satisfying the principles and passions of moderns. Machiavelli has founded a regime, not as a reactionary partisan of the Middle Ages, but by appealing to the same fundamental principles defended by Montesquieu but applied to a new historic order. A fuller elaboration of the Machiavellian revolution points to elements of Saint-Simonian thought that inspire Napoleon III and, beyond, to essential elements of modern totalitarianism.

The New "Spirit" of the Laws

In the shortest and arguably most beautifully written part of the Dialogue, the stereotypical view of Machiavelli, which Montesquieu shares, is shattered. What separates the two interlocutors is not merely an admiration of republican virtue and imperial grandeur but two historic epochs. Far from a limited defense of his own epoch, "bordering on the Middle Ages," Machiavelli comes to light as an apparent apologist for an epoch that transcends the so-called modern world defended by Montesquieu. He successfully brings about a "return" to despotism, but presented as an advance of the historic process, the demands of which his regime effectively fulfills.

Machiavelli declares he will bring peace, "the greatest of my benefactions," to a country previously wracked by factions. Montesquieu immediately attacks Machiavelli's assertion that his rule stands for "liberty, dignity, and strength." Such a claim can be maintained only by changing "the meaning of words" as they would apply in the republican regime described by Montesquieu.

Following the policy of Rome, the unity of the country, as indeed its "dignity and strength," is guaranteed through an aggressive foreign policy, a subtopic of Part Four. Domestic peace is premised on war abroad as all factions unite in extending the influence of the regime globally. Having helped restore stability at home through the establishment of authoritarian rule, the prince uses the collective resources of the state in pursuit of the most exalted glory as he emulates the great conquerors of history in the most diverse regions of the world. The new prince's deeds, Machiavelli implies, will be commensurate with the unprecedented power he has gained.

In the face of evident hyperbole which compares the new prince to " Alexander, Caesar, and Charlemagne," among others, Montesquieu grants that "no hero of antiquity or modern times could rank" with him. Even the example of Louis XIV pales beside him. But such musings are beside the point. Montesquieu fails to see what "good" accrues from a policy based on war, an "evil" where, inevitably, destruction and servitude follow. "This is not the time to equivocate," Machiavelli interrupts. "Glory is itself a great good," he says to one who has asted earthly celebrity and secretly pines over its loss in hell. " All other assets accrue to the sovereign who has glory." In winning it, the prince will come to arbitrate the affairs of the world personally.

Machiavelli recurs to the past grandeur of great historical figures to frame his vision of the future. He intends to fire the imagination of the masses and unite them to a leader who, by words and deeds, gives expression to a new historic consciousness. Machiavelli attempts to end the disruptions that are endemic to liberal society by removing their most serious causes. He projects through propaganda a world-historic view that would replace the liberal consciousness by elevating the masses and uniting formerly disparate groups in a common historic enterprise.

Machiavelli seizes upon a casual reference to Louis XIV. Like the former French sovereign, the new prince will have his name associated with the apogee of an historic epoch, which rivaled the splendors of the Periclean and Augustian ages. [l] Political parallels may also be drawn in their common efforts to maximize centralization, co-opt independent groups, and emasculate institutions that might serve as independent centers of opposition.

As he competes with Louis in war, he also competes with him in constructing monuments. Here is introduced a subject of vast importance to this part of the Dialogue which simultaneously serves diverse objectives. In a technological and engineering feat of unprecedented dimensions, he will refurbish and redesign cities in magnificence while providing housing for his people. Machiavelli here once again touches on the key to his rule and sway over the people. They are to be impressed with the glory of the sovereign and participate through him in certain exalted emotions tied to the unprecedented power he holds. "I would want to show the people that a monument whose construction used to require centuries could be built by me in a few years." His architecture need not be tasteful by past standards, as long as it is large and "modern," as befitting the tone of a new industrial age. "The palaces of my predecessors would fall under the wrecker's ball in order to raise them anew in modern forms."

Admittedly, "the number of great actions" to achieve glory "is not limitless." The two "principal marks" of great reigns, whether that of Ramses II, Louis XIV, or Peter I, have been "war and buildings." [2] Like these former sovereigns, he intends his buildings to dwarf the significance of the individual by its scale and have him seek identity with the strength of the prince. This will serve the prince 's political principles "aesthetically" by giving expression to an imperial grandeur in which all collectiveJy participate. At the same time, it appeases their Jove of equality, which all the ruled share, at least in comparison to a person of such exalted stature.

The prince also intends his building program to accommodate the people in their needs. Massive public works programs will give employment to the masses of men, formerly excluded from a stake in society and from the pleasures ollJy the "few rich" could procure. They will be furnished housing. The spirit of enterprise will flourish in his regime but only in those occupations peripheral to the great economic tasks of the prince. Small-scale businesses will be subsumed into the massive government programs that aim at improving "the material conditions of workers, laborers, and those bent under the weight of social necessity." In underscoring the concern of the prince for the masses of poor, he finds moral justification for his rule, while discrediting the laissez-faire arrangements of the Montesquieuan system as "cold-blooded indifference" to the "wretchedness of the people."

In "an oratorical outburst," as Machiavelli puts it, Montesquieu forces a comparison between this sovereign and others, who brought not monuments of glory, but a legacy of Jaws, simplicity, and liberty. If Machiavelli were sincere about his solicitude for the people, he would dispose of his court and all its trappings as well as his policy of bread and circuses. In a tirade against pomp, Montesquieu adjures Machiavelli to follow the likes of Agesilaus, Lycurgus, and Gracchus and not the emperors he emulates. [3]

At the end of the Twenty-Second Dialogue, Montesquieu asserts that the greatest act of benefaction is the abnegation of absolute power. He asks Machiavelli to have his prince step down from power as the touchstone of his good faith intentions for the people. In any case, "the people that elected you would only have to express its will by asking you to descend from the throne in the name of the state's salvation." According to Montesquieu, the new prince can be counted among those "who last but a day."

Montesquieu's "outburst" interrupts the flow of the discussion. Machiavelli was to specify the "good" his rule would serve. It continues with how in fact he can guarantee the perpetuation of his rule. The Twenty Third Dialogue elaborates the means that are available. Such considerations continue in the Twenty-Fourth Dialogue. Machiavelli begins to sketch in detailed particulars of the portrait of the new prince who begins to take on the aspect of not merely a glorious ruler but a new kind of god.

Machiavelli's Realism

In the Twenty Third Dialogue, Machiavelli argues why the necessities of the moment prevent him from adopting the role of a modern Lycurgus in renouncing absolute power. Montesquieu is acquainted with Machiavelli's political, economic, and financial system. He will now learn "the final way" by which he will "sink the roots" of his dynasty "into the depths of the earth."

Machiavelli characterizes Montesquieu's "oratorical outburst" as misplaced enthusiasm for things which are no longer possible. In an equally vehement statement, he attempts to show that the times demand despotism. If he succeeds in showing that his rule is the last buffer against utter destruction, then what serves his rule is "good," at least insofar as it preserves against a greater evil. He seeks strength and security, not for self-interested motives or out of profligacy, but for urgent political reasons. In this light, the self-abnegation that Montesquieu demands would be irresponsible.

The character of modern society is presented in vivid and scathing terms. Machiavelli's prince cannot be an "Agesilaus, Lycurgus, or Gracchus" because he is not among "Spartans or Romans." He is "in the midst of voluptuous societies, where a passion for pleasure and war go hand in hand, where people are transported by power and sensuality and no longer recognize divine authority, paternal authority, or religious restrictions." It follows that he cannot lead by an appeal to virtue. "I control this society through its vices because it only presents me with vices." The events of 1848, not to mention 1789, have made evident the anarchic and destructive possibilities possible in mass revolution. Consequently, the masses must be appeased to forestall chaos. [4]

For their part, the privileged classes make common cause with the prince and embrace policies that stand between them and a Europe "aflame." In the final analysis, it is an appeal to security that justifies the Machiavellian coup and serves as the ultimate objective of the prince's policies. This is a compelling argument for the liberal Montesquieu whose design of political society is fundamentally motivated by the same desire for security but who is now forced to entertain the idea that it is best guaranteed by dictatorial rule.

If it is granted that the Machiavellian revolution has thwarted anarchy, then Machiavelli's view of history is seemingly vindicated as to the recurrent possibility and even necessity for despotism. Moreover, he has, in a sense, proved that "good can come from evil" -- at least if forestalling a greater evil is "good." It follows that any steps that strengthen his regime can be viewed as justified. Machiavelli has maneuvered the discussion to the point where his principles, in the extreme situation that comes to prevail in modern times, would force at least conditional assent on Montesquieu's part. Upon such foundations, less justifiably, he would build his grand structure of tyranny. Working within the frame of liberal politics to meet the problems he identifies is not considered.

Machiavelli turns to measures that will ensure that his rule takes hold. Up to this point, he has emphasized the harsher aspects of his rule and, as conqueror, stands accused of being an "avenging angel." In mock protest, Machiavelli asks: "Am I really so harsh when I embrace, not violence, but self-effacement as my political end?" His rule in fact is not to be confused with the military despotism of old. With sarcasm, he promises to bring Montesquieu "more than one unexpected consolation" and points to certain softer features of his rule. But first, he asks indulgence for listing "a few more precautions" necessary for the prince's safety.

He will expand the praetorian guard, a person force one-third the size of the regular army. As far as the army goes, there will be universal conscription to ensure an adequate force for his imperial policies. Continued service necessary to a professional armed forces will be encouraged by monetary incentives. The goal is state employment of the masses, bound to the prince through patriotic loyalty and employment. [5]

His rule will find support of other sovereigns interested in a tranquil Europe. He will have his "worker's Jacquerie" to go along with his praetorian guard and armed services. But, in the end, it is the prince's building program that represents the most efficacious way of finding permanent occupations for the masses. They are tied to the regime whose policies guarantee their livelihood. And the propertied classes, meanwhile, realize that this is the only means to defuse revolution. His building policy is the most important of many steps to organize and co-opt the workers while it lays down the foundations for a more integrated economy.

Attention is rightly redirected to such a policy for the multiple objectives it serves. "Have you noticed that almost all my political reforms simultaneously serve economic goals?" In a truly Machiavellian vein, reconstruction also pursues a strategic goal. The avenues of the capital, for example, will be widened. They will come to be rightfully admired for providing the most beautiful urban vistas in the world. But they also allow for the easy movement of troops. The workers who widen such thoroughfares will make the erection of barricades more difficult. They are depriving themselves of their favored means of mounting effective protests and insurrections. Moreover, important building projects will take the workers outside of the city, the center of agitation, where the government is most vulnerable to a revolutionary coup. The subsidized housing that the workers will construct for themselves will be interspersed in the environs of the city. This will isolate troublemakers and fractionalize the strength of any revolutionary movement. [6]

There will be an explosion in the growth of the bureaucracy as the role of government expands to handle the grand projects and social programs of the regime. With the new programs initiated by the prince, the bureaucrat comes to the fore. With such employment, he hopes to channel the aspirations and energies of the more talented and ambitious.

He will not neglect the "little things" to secure himself. Those who cannot be bought off will be won by honors. Equality of conditions breeds a love of distinction that can easily be satisfied by baubles and braid. Trophies, emblems, images, and statues will be erected everywhere to remind of the greatness of the prince who will designate everything under his authority with the epithet "royal." Titles will multiply and ceremony will return into vogue. As petty honors satisfy little souls at little expense, the ancient nobility is appeased by a scrupulous regard for traditions and honors which, until recently, had fallen into desuetude.

Above all, the general tone of the regime will be set by pleasure-seeking appropriate to a rich and luxurious Empire and far removed from the austerity associated with ancient republics or the peculiar asceticism and disciplined lifestyles of many in the money-making classes of early liberal regimes. Public spectacles will rout boredom. And austere individuals who do not succumb to all such blandishments will appear singular: Efforts will be made to seduce the most pure among them. In no way will the people be made to feel self-conscious in their pursuits. Rather, the fall of the pure will confirm them in their predilections. The prince will be "harsh only in what relates to politics." All other passions will be tolerated and encouraged by the prince's example.

Montesquieu had presumed that virtue would exist in substantial numbers of citizens, who would be moved to resistance to despotic rule. But Machiavelli has succeeded in impoverishing citizen character and reducing and isolating such types. [8] At the same time, he has enlisted, through self-interest, the diverse factions and groups in liberal society to the prince's cause.

The Character of Louis Napoleon

In the Twenty-Fourth Dialogue, Machiavelli will give his government its "final countenance."

In political matters, the prince must remain inscrutable. He follows the likes of Alexander VI and the Duke of Valentinois, of whom it was said of the former that "he never did what he said" and of the latter that "he never said what he did." Machiavelli thus begins the Twenty-Fourth Dialogue with reference to two prominent personages from The Prince, whose lives make for most profitable study for would-be rulers. As it turns out, this Dialogue contains the most frequent references to The Prince. Moreover, except for one interruption, Machiavelli is free to proceed as he wishes. The dialectical character of Joly's work disappears as the interlocutors hasten to finish their conversation. The resulting prose reminds one of the character of The Prince in the quickened pace in which it prescribes the "proper" and oftentimes shocking conduct of princes.

In adjuring the prince to be inscrutable in word and deed, Machiavelli gives the first of a series of recommendations that intend to conjure a god-like image for the sovereign. Mystery surrounds the throne. But when the prince does act, he acts with vigor. The people see him as a singular kind of law unto himself. Montesquieu interrupts Machiavelli to object to this dissimulation, which, no matter how beneficial in keeping his subjects off balance and fearful, might provoke foreigners not held "under foot." The combined strength of his neighbors would limit his power to act and ultimately overthrow such a faithless and menacing personage.

Machiavelli is momentarily forced to leave the portrait of the prince he is sketching and address foreign affairs. His foreign policy consists in offsetting the strength of his more formidable enemies by seeking allies from countries in decline. He will then manipulate them through appeals to memories of ancient glory. This would provide him "with 300,000 more men against armed Europe" for as long as he lived. After this interlude, Machiavelli can return to the task of revealing "the royal countenance" in its finished form, in virtually uninterrupted discourse.

Competent advisors will serve the prince and debate in his presence. The correct course of action will recommend itself without the prince having to commit himself beforehand. His word in fact may betray opposite intentions. Anticipating Orwell and .the descriptions of later totalitarianism, he will signal his designs o the privileged few by words opposite to his acts. "When I say: 'My reign is peace,' it means there will be war. When I make an appeal to morality, it means that I am going to use force." His motives will remain obscure except to the initiated who penetrate the inner sanctums of power. The line of authority will constantly shift to prevent the coalescence of cliques that may grow presumptuous.

His press will talk constantly of the grandeur of the reign and the love of his subjects. It will put "into the mouths of the people the opinions and ideas, and even the forms of speech by which they communicate them." His pronouncements will be grand occasions, oracular in character. When he addresses himself to the people, he is not above a more blatant demagoguery and other techniques of mass appeal.

He will follow a great historic figure as his model. He could not "put his leisure to better use than by writing, say, the history of a great man" he emulates. Precisely like Louis Napoleon, he will be a man of the times, cultivated, a poet-master. This will lend a certain charm to go with historic stature as it appeals to intellectuals whose sympathies are necessary in helping to project the "proper" image of the prince for his subjects and posterity. [9]

At times, he must appear awesome. We are reminded of The Prince where it is asserted that men avenge slight wrongs but not great ones. [10] They like to feel the strength of the prince. Since they are venal, they would be ready accomplices in ventures that subdue the proud and independent.

The wrath of his 'justice' would affirm their commonality with others, including their superiors. All immediately around him are vulnerable to the prince and the fate he dispenses. Restraint would be viewed with gratitude, almost as an active benefaction. The smallest gesture will be studied as a sign of his disposition. Any odious excesses will be attributed to his underlings. He is to punish with unyielding vigor but reward with alacrity. In the end, the hold of moral principle will be loosened and replaced by reference to the will and pleasure of the prince.

Machiavelli next turns to the human side of the prince. Clemency and magnanimity complement his more forceful features and soften his aspect. "Man is the image of God, and the Divinity avails Himself of severe blows as well as mercy." Since customs have softened in modern times, he will not disregard the usefulness of clemency in winning the allegiance of the multitudes.

He must appear superstitious. This will endow all his actions with a certain fatefulness to play upon the credulity of the masses. He will also be a lusty prince. This will enlist the interest and attention of the more beautiful half of his subjects. He will be envied of men and desired by women. Chivalry will return in his person. In effect, the whole of his policy is to make men forget their loss of liberty. "I can assure you that if I carefully follow the rules I have just outlined there will be little concern about liberty in my kingdom." Making the people happy and providing them with diversions is what occupies him. "A thousand different objects will constantly occupy people's minds."

"I shall even go so far as to satisfy the obsession for liberty." He returns to foreign policy where he might exploit certain opportunities to gain popular influence on the pretext of fighting for the advancement of popular causes. He would assure his fellow monarchs, however, that he embraces the cause of liberty only to stifle it.

At end, students of Napoleon III and, certainly, the contemporaries of Joly could not help but be aware that "the portrait of the prince" Machiavelli has endeavored to sketch in the Twenty-Fourth Dialogue is in perfect likeness to the French Emperor. We are left little doubt as to who Joly conceived as the practitioner of the "politics of Machiavelli in the Nineteenth Century," in the Dialogue that is at once most explicitly Machiavellian in character and tone and most detailed in its description of Napoleon III.

Loosening Repression

At the beginning of the Twenty-Fifth Dialogue, Machiavelli indicates that he will rule for "ten years" in strictly absolute fashion. It is time for severe repression, whatever the prince's efforts to mask such a reality. It might be thought that the people will be unhappy and complain. They will in fact receive their fate as deserved punishment.

According to Machiavelli, there comes a moment to loosen pressure. The prince will grant liberties. The enemies of the prince fool themselves when they think that repression will redound against the prince. It had its effect in dissipating the forces of resistance. He can grant certain liberties without them threatening him. Partisan hatred will be disarmed as he grants the necessary concession to the liberal spirit of the times. "I could even grant real liberties," he declares. "You'd have to be completely bereft of political intelligence not to see that by this time my legislation has borne fruit." In fact, "the character of the nation has changed." Absolutism has penetrated the customs and reformed the mindset of the nation. He may now enter the path of toleration without fearing anything.

An anecdote drawn from the experience of Rome demonstrates how liberty affects the souls of people. Dion relates that "the Roman people were indignant toward Augustus because of certain very harsh laws that he had promulgated. But as soon as he had the actor Piladus recalled and the seditious were banished from the city, discontent ceased." Montesquieu himself recounts this anecdote in The Spirit of the Laws. [11] The Romans felt tyranny more deeply when a dancer was exiled than when all its laws had been taken away. We have reached a similar point in the evolution of France.

The portrait of the prince is virtually complete. A short while before, Montesquieu had asked Machiavelli to step down from the throne as the touchstone of his good will and concern for the common good. He will relinquish power on one condition, ''as a martyr" to the popular cause and as a testament to his love of the people. After his death, their love for him will turn to adoration.

The Cult of Personality

Far from an act of self-abnegation, such a martyred death represents the height of hubris that would see the beloved prince elevated to a god-like status to rival that of the Roman Caesar, also the founder of a universal dynasty. Here we glimpse the real ambitions of the modern prince in what comes to light as a Napoleonic emulation of the Caesars and one of the deepest insights into the character of Louis. [12] The modern Caesar seeks the highest glory in the founding of a new historic order. It is based on a new religion, generated by his sacrificial death, that finds this prince, as Caesar before him, the supreme object of worship.

At the dramatic end of Joly's work, this becomes explicit.

I don't say that I shall be respected or loved, but I do say that I will be revered and adored. If I so wished I could have altars erected for me. ...When I pass by, the soul of the people exalts. People run deliriously in my train. I am an object of idolatry. The father points me out to his son. The mother invokes my name in her prayers. The girl look.., at me. sighs, and thinks that if only I might glance at her, perchance, she could lie for a moment in my bed... I tell you, my name will be invoked as if I was a god. When there are hailstorms, droughts, and fires, I rush up and the people throw themselves at my feet. They would bear me to heaven in their arms if god gave them wings.


There can be no recourse to liberty, at least as Montesquieu understands the term. "In the mind and soul of my people I personify virtue. Even more, I personify liberty and also revolution, progress, the modern spirit, finally all that is best at the core of contemporary civilization."

At the beginning of this part, Montesquieu had claimed that Machiavelli would have to change the meaning of words, if he were, as he said, to personify such things. A transvaluation of values, to borrow a phrase from Nietzche, is implied in his appeal to "virtue and liberty" -- a change in the fundamental significance of words that rival the changed world view inaugurated by the real Machiavelli in his use of such terms.

We are along way from the mechanistic politics of Montesquieu outlined in the first part of the Dialogue. Machiavelli has attempted to establish a popular despotism. In the "cult" of the prince, he has also attempted to reconcile modern rational politics with the credulous disposition of the masses and former faiths. Devotions, formerly directed to other worlds, are redirected to this world and the person of this prince, who finds legitimacy in both secular and religious terms, or rather, in an ideology that tries to synthesize the deepest sources of authority in the West.

_______________

Notes:

1. See Voltaire, Siecle de Louis XIV (Paris; Flammerion, 1931), I, 507. The opening of Voltaire's history indicates the appropriateness of Louis XIV as an object of emulation for the new prince. He reigned over one of the four great epochs of the West. The first of these belonged to Periclean Athens, the second to the Caesars, the third to Renaissance Italy, and the last to Louis XIV, an era enriched by the three previous and therefore the culmination of an "esprit" that Napoleonic France wanted to emulate.

2. HitJer's ambitions on this score parallel those of Louis. See Alben Speer, Inside the Third Reich, trans. Richard and Clara Winston (New York; Macmillan, 1970), 8. Speer had a theory of "ruin value" that attracted Hitler's interest. The buildings of the Third Reich, in terms of their materials and statics, were to be designed on the order of Roman models and their condition after the passing of a thousand years. (This was the Thousand Year Reich and the first Reich, Charlemagne's Holy Roman Empire, lasted this long.) As in the Dialogue, an economic consideration also inspired the erection of the Third Reich's monuments. The money spent on public buildings, like that spent on armaments, injected the capital necessary to revive a depressed economy. It created the artificial demand for goods that alleviated the employment problem. Also, in the Dialogue, the buildings policy was meant to speak to and represent certain ideological goals of the regime.

3. In no way does the real Montesquieu adjure moderns to follow the likes of the ancient founders. One can not read the description of Lycurgus's "singular" institutions without strong feelings of antipathy. See The Spirit of the Laws IV 6 and 7. Joly's distortion of the thought of the real Montesquieu is clearly evident here.

Ironically, the real Machiavelli, in fact, touts ancient founders as appropriate models for curing the "peculiar" diseases of modern politics.

4. Machiavelli's defense of his despotism in fact parodies the wisdom of ancient founders -- recommended by Montesquieu for his emulation -- when he constructs constitutions tailored to the character of the people he finds.

5. The secret to Saddam Hussein's political longevity may lie in the pursuit of similar policies.

6. One thinks of Sarcelles, on the outskirts of Paris.

7. This is the Paris of Offenbach, we should always remember. More to the point, Joly indicates that he knows very well how his contemporaries view him, indeed an "austere" and strange individual against the background of the Second Empire. He later indicates that there is no dearth of individuals who can be counted on to subdue the few proud and "independent men" of the times.

8. The "impoverishment" of the character of the people is precisely how the court that tried Joly saw him as depicting the effects of Napoleon's policies.

9. French presidents who followed DeGaulle have shown themselves of one mind with Joly.s Machiavelli on this score. They have felt compelled to demonstrate their affinity for literature (Mitterand) or art (Pompidou). Even the staid Giscard apparently wrote a romantic novel. The family name -- d'Estaing -- though a bought title, was no electoral handicap. The contrast with America is striking. The "populist" streak in American democracy inclines to suspicion in matters that the French see as de rigeur in their leaders. The only recent exception to "populist suspicion" in the U.S. was JFK (and perhaps FDR). Like Louis Napoleon, Kennedy burnished his reputation before running for president by writing a history of great men -- a Pulitzer-Prize winner, to boot. He and his wife were genuinely at ease in the world of culture. It is for this that he is known as being the most "European" of presidents. Family wealth, athletic good looks, prep schools and Harvard, an attractive, intelligent, French-speaking wife, beautiful children -- were all critical elements of his charm. It rendered his life, not suspect, but feerique, and for a brief moment Washington (of all places) became "Camelot." He seduced a whole generation of "the best and brightest." What the Machiavelli of Joly's Dialogue says is pertinent here. The intellectuals he seduced would perpetuate his memory through their writing. Doesn't the "Kennedy myth" have something to do with this?

10. See The Prince III.

11. The reference to Dion can be found in The Spirit of the Laws XIX 3.

12. The nephew Augustus stood to his uncle Julius as "civilizer" to "conqueror." Louis probably saw himself in a similar light with regard to his relative. I argue that his "civilizing" mission was undertaken in the element of Saint-Simonianism, the topic of the following two chapters.
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