Hatred and contempt
The PrinceHatred and contempt describe the two forms of public hostility that most directly endanger a Prince’s authority. In the political analysis of The Prince, hatred is produced by material and personal injury, especially interference with subjects’ property and women, while contempt is produced by the appearance of weakness or instability. A ruler who avoids both may endure other moral infamies without losing power, because political judgment ultimately follows visible results and the preservation of authority.
Definition and Sources of Hatred
Hatred is rooted less in abstract disapproval than in injuries that enter ordinary domestic life. A Prince becomes hated above all by being rapacious and by interfering with the property or honor of his subjects. These violations transform political rule into a direct threat to personal security: subjects who believe that their possessions and dignity are exposed can no longer remain quietly content. If those interests are left untouched, the wider population generally lives in satisfaction, leaving the Prince chiefly to manage the ambition of a smaller group that can be restrained by other means.
The principle also appears in the treatment of conquered territories. When a newly acquired State shares the language and customs of the Prince’s hereditary dominions, retention is comparatively easy if the ancient ruling line is removed and the existing laws and taxes are not altered. Preserving familiar institutions prevents conquest from becoming a daily insult. By contrast, a territory differing in language, usages, and laws presents multiplied difficulties, because administrative change can make foreign rule felt in every part of social life. The Prince must therefore distinguish between necessary consolidation and needless interference: touching property, customary arrangements, or established laws can turn subjects’ unease into durable resentment.
Definition and Sources of Contempt
Contempt is the judgment that a ruler lacks the qualities required for command. A Prince is despised when he appears fickle, frivolous, effeminate, pusillanimous, or irresolute. These are not merely private defects in the political framework; they are public signals that invite testing. Against them, the ruler must cultivate the visible appearance of greatness, courage, wisdom, and strength. His decisions in dealings with subjects should seem irrevocable, and his reputation should be strong enough that no one imagines he can be overreached or easily deceived.
Contempt is especially dangerous because it weakens the deterrent power of office. A respected Prince is difficult to conspire against, since an attack on him is unlikely to please the people. A ruler thought weak or uncertain, however, encourages opponents to believe that authority can be manipulated, that punishment may be evaded, and that foreign powers may find useful allies within the State. Political reputation therefore operates as a practical resource: the appearance of firmness can prevent challenges before force is required.
Hatred, Conspiracy, and Popular Goodwill
The avoidance of hatred and contempt is presented as the central internal defense against conspiracy. A Prince faces danger from subjects within and foreign powers without. Good arms and good allies provide protection abroad, but domestic security depends on maintaining good relations with the body of the people. A conspirator commonly assumes that killing the Prince will win popular approval. When the people instead regard the ruler with goodwill, that expectation collapses, and the conspirator loses the courage to act.
Conspiracy is difficult in any case because it requires partners drawn from the discontented. Yet disclosing a plan to such a person offers that person a means of ending his own discontent by betrayal. The conspirator therefore confronts distrust, jealousy, and fear of punishment, while the Prince possesses the laws, the majesty of the throne, the protection of friends and government, and potentially the general goodwill of the people. If the crime succeeds, the conspirator may still face popular hostility and have no place of refuge. Hatred thus reverses the political calculation on which conspiracy depends: the death of a hated Prince may appear beneficial, whereas the death of a generally respected one threatens the conspirators themselves.
The example of Bologna gives this argument a concrete form. Messer Annibale Bentivoglio was murdered by the Canneschi, leaving only the infant Messer Giovanni among his family. The people immediately rose and killed all the Canneschi because the House of the Bentivogli enjoyed general goodwill. When no one remained capable of governing the city, the citizens went to Florence to find a supposed descendant of the family, previously believed to be a smith’s son, and entrusted him with the government until Messer Giovanni reached an age at which he could rule. Popular attachment therefore survived the murder of the ruler and turned against those responsible for it.
Institutions, Subjects, and Conquered States
A well-ordered State must prevent both the nobility from being driven to desperation and the commons from becoming hostile or discontented. France is offered as an example of institutional design serving this purpose. Its Parliament and its authority act as an intermediary between the King, the ambitious nobles, and the commons, whose fear of the nobles could otherwise create hatred on both sides. By assigning a third party to restrain the nobles and support the commons, the King is spared some of the ill-will that would arise if he personally appeared to favor one order against the other.
The same political logic governs the administration of conquered cities that have lived under their own laws and in freedom. Such a city may be destroyed, occupied by the Prince in person, or left under its laws while being subjected to tribute and governed through selected inhabitants. But free communities preserve a fierce memory of liberty and ancient law. Athens and Thebes, held by the Spartans through oligarchies, were eventually lost; Rome retained Capua, Carthage, and Numantia only by destroying them; and Rome’s attempt to hold Greece while leaving it free ultimately failed, requiring the destruction of many cities. Pisa’s rising against Florence after a century of servitude demonstrates that the name of liberty can remain politically active long after formal submission.
This is why the treatment of free cities differs from the treatment of populations accustomed to princely rule. When the ruling line of a princely State is extinguished, citizens accustomed to obedience may struggle to choose a leader among themselves and may be readily attached to a foreign Prince. Republics possess greater vitality, fiercer hatred, and a keener desire for revenge because memory of former freedom continues to organize resistance. Hatred and contempt are therefore not simply emotions created by individual conduct; they can be stored in institutions, laws, customs, and collective memories, then released when the conqueror encounters weakness or misfortune.
Reputation, Arms, and the Limits of the Principle
Avoiding hatred and contempt does not make force unnecessary. A Prince must defend himself against foreign powers with good arms and good allies, and the possession of good arms itself helps secure allies. When affairs abroad are settled, domestic affairs are ordinarily secure unless conspiracies disturb them; even under external hostility, a ruler who has prepared properly and does not abandon hope can withstand attack. Nabis of Sparta serves as an example of a Prince who resisted external danger through such preparation.
The historical comparison among Roman Emperors sharpens the distinction between rulers who preserve authority and those who merely imitate successful predecessors. Hatred or contempt ruined the Emperors under discussion. Pertinax and Alexander, as new Princes, could not safely imitate Marcus Aurelius, an hereditary Prince; Caracalla, Commodus, and Maximinus fatally imitated Septimius Severus without possessing the qualities that had enabled Severus to succeed. A new Prince should borrow from Septimius Severus the conduct needed to establish a government and from Marcus Aurelius the conduct suited to maintain and dignify one. The lesson is not to copy a model mechanically, but to match political behavior to the ruler’s position and resources.
The concept finally extends to the Prince’s management of agents and institutions. The choice of Ministers reveals the ruler’s prudence: capable and faithful ministers indicate that he can recognize merit and retain loyalty, while poor ministers expose a first fault in the Prince himself. A Minister who thinks chiefly of himself and pursues private ends cannot be trusted. The Prince should preserve such loyalty by honoring and enriching the Minister, binding him through benefits, sharing honors and burdens, and giving him responsibilities that make separation dangerous. In this arrangement, mutual dependence supports authority; in its opposite, either Prince or Minister will suffer. The avoidance of hatred and contempt therefore requires more than personal dignity. It demands protection of property and honor, visible firmness, institutional balance, competent service, and a political order in which subjects have more reason to defend the ruler than to welcome his destruction.