Because my book Cesare Borgia, Brilliant Prince of the Renaissance is a tribute to Cesare Borgia, my interpretation of Machiavelli’s The Prince, and how Machiavelli intended to convey his message, will differ from that of many academics and authors. While I deeply respect the researchers and writers whose work on Machiavelli I have enjoyed, I must admit that I often find their views on Cesare Borgia and his father, Pope Alexander VI, lacking objectivity. This subjective lens, shaped by 500 years of biased narratives, heavily influences their interpretation of The Prince. And, allow me to be bold: this, in my opinion, is why quite a few of their interpretations are, quite simply, not entirely correct.
To understand why this bias persists, we must look at how the Borgias’ reputation was so thoroughly destroyed. Three main factors are at play: first, an extraordinarily effective slander campaign orchestrated by their powerful adversary, Pope Julius II; second, the Reformation wave that swept across Europe, which used the Borgias as convenient symbols of the corruption they saw in the Catholic Church—a narrative Pope Julius II himself handed the Reformists on a silver platter; and finally, the invention of the pamphlet, a revolutionary medium that allowed the myth of the “evil Borgias” to spread like wildfire across Europe. Only in the past few decades have unbiased academic studies about this Renaissance family exposed some of these enduring lies.
But how does one undo a lie that has been called the truth for 500 years? Well, to start, we must rely on modern, unbiased research far more than on the accounts of Cesare and Machiavelli’s contemporaries. Then you will notice quite quickly that the Borgias were no different from other aristocratic families of their time, except perhaps that they were more intelligent, more determined, and much more ready to seize their moment.
The centuries-long character assassination of Cesare Borgia, Machiavelli’s prototype of the ideal ruler and a figure of admiration, has naturally led to a fundamental misunderstanding of Machiavelli himself. After all, how could a bloodthirsty, cruel, sadistic, unscrupulous, incestuous, and murderous villain such as Cesare Borgia be the righteous, strong, intelligent, and ideal leader Machiavelli described? If this Borgia “monster” was truly Machiavelli’s perfect ruler, then Machiavelli himself MUST have been an evil, conniving, scheming, and devious man. And that is exactly what happened: the dark shadow of the Borgias’ Black Legend fell on Machiavelli as well and tainted his reputation forever.
His name was dragged through the mud, his written work put on the Catholic Church’s blacklist, and he was blamed for atrocities from the Gunpowder Plot in England to the fratricides of Turkish sultans to the Massacre of St. Bartholomew—and countless other heinous acts. Worst of all, his name became synonymous with the Devil. And all of this happened because readers failed to understand both Machiavelli and the world in which he lived.
History is written by the victorious and therefore often only offers but a glimpse of the truth. Both Cesare Borgia and Machiavelli were extraordinary minds, and it is long overdue for the world to truly understand their brilliance.
