Whatever his changes and his challenges to Livy, Machiavelli’s Discourses on Livy, by its very title, invites the reader to read Livy and to recall Rome in its virtuous beginning (principio). Machiavelli returns to Roman virtue, above all, in order to repudiate the corruption of his own, Christian times. Ancient religion and education cultivated worldly glory, human greatness and the natural ends of politics; the weak and humble Christian religion does not. Christian authorities and their subjects, according to Machiavelli, disarmed the world. They glorified a humble and contemplative life, placing ‘the highest good in humility, abjectness and contempt of things human’ (D 2.2.2).13 The Christians wielded their arts of peace with such cunning that they all but exterminated the art of war. The religion of the ancient Roman Republic infused its citizens with powerful, aggressive desires and supplied them with arms in order to train them in virtue (see Chapter 17); the religion of Machiavelli’s times educates men to be shamefully ignorant of what is and has always been important to humanity. The ancient Republic educated its citizens in pride, effective wisdom,and martial virtue, yet it proved so effective that, paradoxically, it laid the groundwork for its opposite. Now the Christian republic, the heir of Rome, educates its subjects in servility, submission and dependence. Even those virtuous and partially successful modern men such as Cesare Borgia – the infamous son of the infamous Pope Alexander VI – and Castruccio Castracani – the tyrant of Lucca, leader of the Ghibellines and scourge of Florence in the fourteenth century – find themselves invariably undone by the Christian order. Against the priestly authorities of Christian Rome, Machiavelli preaches both austere Roman virtue and his own virtù: the world must find a new education if it is to have a new birth of freedom, and that education should begin with The Prince and with Livy (D 1.18–19, 2.18–19, 2.30, 3.18, 3.29; P 11–13; Whitfield 1971: 73). Now that the meek have inherited the earth, the new Roman republic, the Christian republic, has abandoned the world to fortune (Sullivan 1996: 36–55). In the only chapter of the Discourses whose title refers to ‘Roman Virtue’, Machiavelli writes:
And thus, as this fallacy has been uncovered by the example of the ultramontane troops, and as it is seen by it that all that is narrated above about infantry in the histories is true, [modern men] ought to believe all the other ancient orders to be true and useful. And if this were believed, republics and princes would err less, would be stronger in opposing a thrust that might come against them, and would not put their hope in flight; and those who have in their hands a civil way of life would know better how to direct it, either by way of expanding it or by way of maintaining it. (D 2.19.1)
Machiavelli’s return to the Roman model aims to overturn the greatest corruption the world has ever seen. To that end, he seizes on ancient memories of human freedom and especially the greatest such memories found in the greatest ancient republic (P 5). Under such conditions, a return to Livy’s virtue is of the greatest moment, although, as Machiavelli asserts from the beginning, the ancient texts must be ‘chewed on’ if they are to be properly digested (D 1.pr.2, 3.12.1, 3).
More interesting still, however, is that Machiavelli’s project involves an attack on the ancient Romans themselves, and most explicitly on Livy. In the Preface to Book 2 of the Discourses, Machiavelli claims that the historians have often concealed infamous things in their works in order to increase the glory of their subjects. Machiavelli unearths those infamous things and openly praises them. As a result, readers have often found Machiavelli pessimistic and even evil, but that view underestimates the optimism that accompanies his novel honesty about the character of Roman – and, by extension, human – excellence. In concealing or ignoring what was truly good and bad for political success, what is truly praiseworthy and truly blameworthy in a world without any suprapolitical virtue, the historians have misled themselves and others about virtue, politics and human nature. Machiavelli’s return to Livy’s Rome and its virtue is indeed a renaissance, but one that transforms virtue and even history in the process. When, in the 30th chapter of Book 2, Machiavelli exclaims, ‘Let all the Roman histories be read’, he means ‘Let all of histories be read correctly.’ At the end of the previous discourse he seemed to concede to Livy the overwhelming and even divine role of fortune in the world, but at the end of 2.30, he writes:
One sees, therefore, both from this discourse and from what we have said elsewhere, how much difference there is between the mode of proceeding of the present republics and that of the ancient ones. Because of this, one also sees miraculous losses and miraculous acquisitions every day. For where men have little virtue, fortune shows its power very much; and because it is variable, republics and states often vary and will always vary until someone emerges who is so much a lover of antiquity that he regulates it in such a mode that it does not have cause to show at every turning of the sun how much it can do. (D 2.30.5)
Livy’s teaching unaccompanied by Machiavelli’s guidance is insufficient. Like Brutus establishing the consulship, Machiavelli cloaks his new virtù in the shadow of Livy’s traditional virtue and history.
Machiavelli’s virtue opens new possibilities for human beings because Machiavellian virtù is effectual virtue, rather than, as the ancient authors held, an excellent disposition of character that is intrinsically worthwhile. Machiavelli strips away whatever was ineffectual in the previous historians’ accounts of human flourishing and reworks the remainder so that it bears a far more direct relationship to political success and the instrumental means of achieving it. Precisely because politics no longer aims at educating citizens or cultivating their goodness, the question of maintaining power through the perpetual renewal of effective virtue becomes the central political task. Livy praises the Romans when they are pious; in Discourses 1.14, Machiavelli praises the Roman elite for using religion to control the plebs (see Chapter 30; Chapter 33). Livy praises the Romans when they obey their oaths and blames them when they do not; Machiavelli praises the Romans for their faithlessness. Livy praises Scipio for his moderation and gentleness; Machiavelli, praises Hannibal for his inhuman cruelty and accuses Scipio of corrupting the military. Livy praises the Romans in their moments of concord; Machiavelli begins his work on Livy with a praise of Roman discord (Liv. 2.23–24, 3.39, 3.58, 3.69, 3.71, 26.38, 30.12–14, 43.12; Machiavelli Discourses 1.3–8, 1.12, 3.19–23). Everywhere we look in the Discourses we find Machiavelli turning Livy on his head by way of Livy’s own narratives and speeches. Machiavelli can be more optimistic about overcoming the succession problem – renewing virtue and empire together – because he has redefined what virtue means by bringing into play a new, more expansive understanding of human freedom and self-command, one that is more closely aligned with familiar human desires and realities. Even the traditionally virtuous qualities that Machiavelli preserves – for example, commitment to the public good and prudence – he presents with revealing twists on Livy’s lessons and meanings.
Stepping back from Machiavelli’s interpretation of Livy and the ancient Romans, we find that Machiavelli differs not only from his ancient counterparts, but also from those republican theorists who would adapt or appropriate his work today. Machiavelli’s Roman Republic is an expansionist, militaristic state filled with executions and prone to the use of civil religion – not one that promotes the ideals of active public deliberation, civic virtue or political transparency. Machiavelli’s revision of ancient Roman politics is focused on the exercise of power, often in brutal or ruthless ways. In that sense, Machiavelli put his stamp not only on subsequent political thought, as in the work of Thomas Hobbes and Algernon Sidney, but also on the disciplines that now concern themselves most with the ancient Roman experience – History, Classics and Political Science. Unlike the ancient Roman historians themselves, Machiavelli set the stage for modern discussions that highlight the darker and more selfish motivations underlying military and political life. Yet, by contrast with those who focus on economic