Forgotten Letters of History: Seneca
TO NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI, THE CLEVER FLORENTINE
this is a work of fiction
FROM LUCIUS ANNAEUS SENECA TO NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI OF FLORENCE,
May wisdom guide your path, clever Florentine.
Your letter concerning Marcus Aurelius has reached me, and I find myself both stirred and troubled by your observations. You write with the sharp insight of one who has seen power's naked face! Yet, I wonder if you might have overlooked certain deeper truths about the nature of power by focusing so intently on its acquisition.
Let us begin, my friend, with your central critique – that Marcus never had to fight for his power, and thus, his virtue was never truly tested in the crucible of necessity. A penetrating observation, to be sure! Yet I, who have walked the treacherous halls of power myself and whispered in the ear of an emperor far more volatile than Marcus, must offer a different perspective.
You speak of the difference between seizing power and maintaining it. But consider this: is not every day of rulership a kind of conquest? When I served as Nero's advisor, each morning brought a new battle for influence, each decision a potential path to exile or execution. Marcus also faced daily battles to maintain his power – not against rival claimants, but against the countless forces that eternally tear at an empire's fabric.
But let us delve deeper, for you raise a fascinating question about the relationship between virtù and virtue. You suggest that one must sometimes sacrifice principle to gain the power to do good. Ah! Here, we approach the heart of the matter. You see, the Stoic view of power differs fundamentally from yours, though perhaps not in the way you might think.
Consider the three disciplines that Zeno taught us: Physics, Logic, and Ethics. You are absolutely right – understanding power dynamics is indeed part of Physics! The Stoic doesn't deny the reality of power's nature, just as we don't deny the existence of death or disease. We study it, we understand it, and we work with it. When I advised Nero, do you think I did not employ every bit of political cunning at my disposal? But – and this is crucial – we view this understanding through the lens of all three disciplines, enlightening us in the process.
Physics shows us how power works. Logic helps us understand its patterns and consequences. But Ethics... ah, Ethics doesn't just constrain us, as you suggest. It guides us toward power's proper use. The three disciplines work together, each informing the others.
You write of Cesare Borgia's necessity to act without principle to establish his power. But consider: did his actions truly demonstrate virtù? His power proved brittle precisely because it lacked an ethical foundation. Is this not a failure of Physics and Logic as much as Ethics? Did he not fundamentally misunderstand the nature of lasting power?
Let me share something from my own experience. When Nero first came to power, I faced the dilemma you described. Should I compromise my principles to maintain influence? Should I overlook small evils to prevent greater ones? I made my choices, as we all must. Some would say I compromised too much; others, too little. But here's what I learned: principle isn't just a constraint on power – it's a source of power, empowering us in our decisions.
Niccolò, the relationship between virtue and power isn't a simple trade-off. When we understand power through all three disciplines, we see that ethical behavior isn't just morally right – it's often pragmatically effective. Not always in the short term, I grant you! But in the long term, power built on principle proves more durable than power built on expedience alone, providing us with a sense of reassurance.
This brings me back to Marcus. You suggest his virtue was untested because he inherited power rather than seizing it. But consider this: is maintaining power through principle a more significant test than seizing it through force? Any tyrant can maintain power through fear for a time. But maintaining it through justice, wisdom, and principle requires a deeper kind of virtù than mere force or cunning.
You mock – gently, I admit – the convenience of never seeing Marcus's principles tested by the need to seize power. Yet I would argue that we did see his principles tested repeatedly. The plague you mentioned? The constant wars? The betrayal of Cassius? Each crisis presented an opportunity to abandon principle for expedience. That he chose not to and succeeded anyway suggests something profound about the nature of power itself.
But let me concede something to you, my ingenious Florentine friend. You are correct that different circumstances may require different approaches to power. The established prince may have options unavailable to the ascending one. Yet this observation supports the Stoic view: wisdom lies in understanding not just how to seize power but how power itself truly works.
Perhaps the synthesis lies here: your virtù and our virtue are not as opposed as they might seem. True virtù – the kind that builds lasting power – must incorporate all three disciplines. It must understand power's nature (Physics), grasp its patterns (Logic), and align with its proper use (Ethics). By 'lasting power,' I mean power that endures not just in the short term, through fear or force, but through justice, wisdom, and principle over time. This is the kind of power that Marcus demonstrated, and it is the kind of power that genuinely reflects virtù.
Marcus demonstrated this synthesis, though in a different context than Borgia. His power endured not despite his principles but partly because of them. And yes, while he may have inherited rather than seized power, he maintained it through a deep understanding of all three disciplines.
As for your postscript about Commodus, you strike a painful chord! But consider: doesn't his failure actually support my argument? He inherited the same power as Marcus but without the philosophical foundation. His rule proves that mere inheritance isn't enough; true power requires understanding its deeper nature through all three disciplines.
I would enjoy continuing this discussion over that flask of Tuscan wine you mentioned. Until then, I encourage you to consider whether your concept of virtù might not be enriched by considering all three disciplines together. After all, as you observed, different circumstances require different approaches. In the context of virtù, 'different circumstances' refers not just to the specific challenges a ruler may face but also to the changing nature of power itself. Perhaps the truest virtù lies in understanding not just how to seize power but how to make it last through principle, regardless of the circumstances.
May Fortune favor your reflections as you contemplate these matters in your beloved Florence. Should your thoughts wander to Rome and the Stoic path, know that further correspondence would be welcomed by this old philosopher.
Written at Rome, in the shadow of emperors past.
SENECA