Two books in one: ‘The Art of Governing a Prince’ by Machiavelli and the ‘Anti-Machiavelli’ by Frederick II.
Machiavelli’s conception of absolutist world power emphasises the ruler’s ability to acquire and retain power, irrespective of ethical norms and legal constraints. It is said that Niccolò Machiavelli originally put forward this system of double standards as a thought experiment to free the raison d’état from traditional ethical norms (Discorsi sulla prima deca di Tito Livio, 1531); his aim was to demonstrate how certain norms could be exceeded or circumvented in specific cases.
In order to legitimise the exercise of secular political rule, it was necessary to separate morality from politics, so that the prince could be a master of hypocrisy and pretence.
The term ‘Machiavellianism’ derives from the historical and political writer. In 1513, following his exile from Florence, he wrote 'Il Principe', which was printed in 1532. In this work, Machiavelli offers advice to the princes of the small Italian states of the time. Law and religion no longer hold intrinsic value, but are merely means and tools of a politics which, when the opportunity arises, uses them as a pretext, whilst not considering itself bound by any higher standards or values. Machiavelli’s ideas were followed by the doctrine of raison d’état, which was developed in particular in Richelieu’s France.
Among the numerous works written in opposition to Machiavelli, Frederick II’s 'Antimachiavell' (1740) is noteworthy not so much for its content as for the author himself. Below is a brief summary of the content, which I have compiled from my notes.
Frederick II's Anti-Machiavel (1740)
Frederick II's Anti-Machiavel (1740), published with a preface by Voltaire in The Hague, represents one of the most ambitious Enlightenment critiques of Niccolò Machiavelli's The Prince (1532; 1745 edition consulted). The work seeks to offer what Voltaire describes as an antidote to Machiavellian amorality, arguing that wisdom and virtue should be promoted with the same vigour with which vice has often been celebrated. Voltaire praises the project because virtue is finally adorned more attractively than vice, while condemning Machiavelli for teaching rulers the art of “being godless” (p. 211). He further criticises Amelot's defence of Machiavelli as disproportionate and compares Machiavelli's effect on political thought to that of Spinoza on religion: just as Spinoza allegedly undermined the foundations of faith, Machiavelli corrupts the art of government.
The central concern of Anti-Machiavel is the moral responsibility of rulers. Frederick regards The Prince as one of the most dangerous books ever written because nothing is more harmful than the passions of kings (p. 215). Historical remembrance, he argues, should be reserved only for virtuous rulers, while justice must remain the foremost concern of every prince (p. 218). The true aim of government is neither conquest nor personal glory but the happiness of the people (p. 221). A ruler should strive to increase the population and bring the country into a flourishing condition (p. 238).
Frederick also challenges Machiavelli's credibility by situating him within what he regards as the barbarous political culture of the fifteenth century. Since Machiavelli drew his examples from a violent and morally degraded age, Frederick argues that the individuals he presents are largely negative models. This criticism extends to Machiavelli's recommendations for securing newly conquered territories. Frederick rejects the three principal strategies proposed by Machiavelli: exterminating the ruling family, establishing a residence in the conquered state, and founding colonies. Such policies, he contends, impose enormous costs and ultimately destroy the very territory from which a ruler hopes to profit. As he writes: “Denn diese Eroberung kostet ihn sehr viel; und dernach zerstöret er das einzige Land, das ihm seinen Verlust wieder ersetzen können. Ihr werdet mir doch zugestehen, dass der Besitz eines verwüsteten und von Einwohnern entblößten Landes einen Fürsten nicht mächtig machen könne” (p. 236).
Another important criticism concerns Machiavelli's emphasis on ambition. Frederick objects that ambition is presented as the primary driving force of political greatness, while countless examples exist of individuals whose ambition led only to ruin. Courage and skill, moreover, are not identical with virtue, since “Muth und Geschicklichkeit findet sich eben so wohl bey Strassenräubern als bey Helden” (p. 244). Genuine greatness depends upon historical circumstances (p. 246). A person's qualities may be admired in one age and regarded as harmful in another; thus, a highly warlike character may appear admirable during wartime but less so during peace.
Frederick is particularly critical of Machiavelli's treatment of newly acquired states and of the exemplary role assigned to Cesare Borgia. The advice offered by Machiavelli, he argues, rewards disloyalty and vice. Borgia, whose methods are presented as politically effective, was in Frederick's view exceptionally bloodthirsty and therefore unsuitable as a model for rulers. His strategy depended upon weakening neighbouring powers by setting them against one another before appropriating their possessions. Such methods exemplify a broader political hypocrisy whereby many invoke the “advantage of heaven” merely as a disguise for self-interest.
Accordingly, Frederick condemns deception, perjury, manipulation, and murder as political tools. He writes: “Der Menschen Treu und Glauben missbrauchen, schändliche List anwenden, meineidig werden, Meuchelmorde begehen; sehet, dieses nennet der Lehrmeister der Bubenstücke Klugheit” (p. 251). He further argues that vice inevitably leads to further vice: “Sehet, wie man von einem Laster auf das andere fället: Um die Ausgaben zu bestreiten, muss man Geld haben; damit man solches bekommen möge, muss man dessen Besitzer plündern; und damit man es sicher genießen könne, muss man sie ausrotten. Schlüsse der Straßenräuber!” (p. 253).
The eighth chapter of The Prince, dealing with those who become rulers through criminal means, receives especially severe criticism. Frederick compares Machiavelli's teaching to a school of vice or a university of traitors. Figures such as Agathocles and Oliverotto da Fermo are presented by Machiavelli as examples of successful political actors, whereas Frederick insists that they deserve oblivion rather than admiration (p. 255). He fears the corrupting influence of such examples, arguing that one mind infects another and that young people can have their understanding distorted through reading, just as novels may unsettle the mind (p. 256).
Against Machiavelli's admiration of successful rulers regardless of their methods, Frederick argues that a closer examination of the lives of tyrants and criminals reveals not happiness but miserable endings. Even if there were no divine justice and no God, virtue would remain indispensable because it alone allows human beings to coexist and preserve themselves. Vice, by contrast, produces misery and accelerates destruction: “sollten um so viel mehr die Menschen tugendhaft seyn, weil die Tugend allein sie vereinigen kann, und ihnen zu ihrer Erhaltung unumgägnlich nöthig ist, und das Laster hingegen sie nur unglücklich machen, und ihren Untergang befördern kann” (p. 260).
The theme of liberty occupies a similarly important place. Frederick describes freedom as humanity's strongest inclination and as inseparable from human nature itself: “Denn so wie wir ohne Ketten geboren werden, so begehren wir ohne Zwang zu leben” (p. 261). The spirit of independence and magnanimity has historically elevated great individuals. Political authority is therefore legitimate only when exercised through laws. Unlike the arbitrary decisions of individuals, laws are inherently oriented toward justice and function as remedies against political and social disorders (p. 264).
In his discussion of military affairs, Frederick distinguishes between different kinds of soldiers according to the “temperament of the state” (p. 279). Native troops constitute the best military force, yet foreign soldiers may become necessary when demographic limitations prevent a state from sustaining its armies (p. 281). The ideal ruler should personally command his forces: “Ein großer Fürst soll seine Völker selbst anführen. Seine Armee ist seine Residenz; sein Vortheil, seine Pflicht, seine Ehre, alles verbindet ihn dazu” (p. 284). Yet the prince must not reduce himself to the role of a soldier alone; he remains simultaneously judge, legislator, and guardian of justice.
A particularly interesting section concerns hunting. Frederick rejects Machiavelli's praise of hunting as the noblest and most ancient of pleasures. While hunting may exercise the body, it does little to improve the mind. Historical precedent alone cannot justify a practice. Great figures of the past also engaged in morally objectionable customs such as sibling marriage or polygamy, yet no one would therefore recommend them. He mocks rulers who spend their lives in forests pursuing animals because they lack the intelligence and sociability necessary for the company of rational human beings: “Ich frage nun, ob das Exempel sind, denen man folgen soll?” (p. 295). Likewise,he questions whether mere longevity possesses any value in itself, concluding that a meaningful life is measured not by years but by thought and useful deeds (p. 297).
The later chapters continue this defence of virtue. In Chapter XV, Frederick argues that praise and blame should ultimately depend upon moral character; a good king will be recognised as upright and just. In Chapter XVIII, devoted to the question of whether princes should keep their word, he attacks Machiavelli's famous argument that rulers may abandon promises when circumstances require. Public curiosity, he notes, observes and spreads everything: “Sie ist ein Tier, das alles siehet, alles höret, und alles ausbreitet.” Deception can be exposed by comparing words with actions. Frederick therefore rejects the image of the prince as a creature who must be half beast and half man. He acknowledges that the world contains both honest players and cheats,but insists that this fact cannot justify dishonesty. Machiavelli's advice that princes need not keep their promises because others do not keep theirs merely presupposes a fundamentally corrupt vision of humanity. Frederick's criticism is therefore not only political but anthropological: Machiavelli's recommendations become plausible only if one assumes a thoroughly evil world in advance.
The AntiMachiavel constitutes a distinctly Enlightenment attempt to reconcile political power with morality. Frederick rejects the separation of ethics and politics that many readers have associated with Machiavelli and instead argues that justice, virtue, public welfare, and respect for liberty are the true foundations of durable government. Whether entirely consistent with Frederick's own later reign or not, the work remains a remarkable defence of enlightened kingship against the logic of raison d'état.
