The best fortress is not being hated by one's subjects

The best fortress is not being hated by one's subjects is the principle that durable political security rests less on masonry than on the ruler's relationship with the governed. Fortresses may protect a prince from a first attack, but hatred turns the population itself into an opening through which foreign enemies can enter; no physical refuge can compensate for the loss of popular allegiance.

Fortresses and the Problem of Security

Fortresses are presented as conventional instruments of princely rule. They can curb subjects who plot against their ruler and provide a safe refuge during the first onset of rebellion. Their value, however, is conditional rather than absolute: the same structure may defend a state in one political situation and endanger it in another.

The decisive question is whom the prince fears more. A ruler more afraid of his subjects than of foreign powers may have reason to build fortresses, whereas one more afraid of strangers than of his subjects should leave them alone. This distinction makes fortification a response to political circumstances, not a universally sound policy. The fortress is useful only when it answers the actual distribution of danger within the state.

Examples of Destruction and Dismantling

The maxim is developed through examples in which rulers deliberately removed their own defenses. Messer Niccolo Vitelli dismantled two fortresses in Città di Castello because he judged that the town would thereby be made more secure. Guido Ubaldo, Duke of Urbino, followed a similar course after returning to the dominions from which Cesare Borgia had driven him: he razed the fortresses throughout the dukedom, believing that their removal would prevent the territory from being lost so easily again. The Bentivogli adopted the same policy on returning to Bologna.

These examples reverse the ordinary assumption that security always increases with stronger walls. A fortress can become a visible instrument of coercion, separating a ruler from the people whose cooperation is needed to sustain his authority. Its removal may therefore serve political stabilization when the structure itself has become associated with domination or vulnerability.

Hatred as the Breach No Wall Can Close

The citadel built by Francesco Sforza in Milan is offered as the clearest warning. It had been, and would continue to be, more dangerous to the House of Sforza than any other disorder in that state. The point is not that the citadel lacks military strength, but that defensive strength cannot withstand a hostile population. Once the people take up arms, foreign powers will not be lacking to assist them.

The Countess of Forli supplies a more qualified example. After her husband, Count Girolamo, was murdered, her fortresses enabled her to escape the insurgents' first assault and, while awaiting aid from Milan, recover her state. The circumstances of that moment prevented a foreign power from assisting the people, so the fortifications temporarily performed the function expected of them. Later, however, when Cesare Borgia attacked her, her subjects' hostility led them to support the invader, and the fortresses proved almost useless. The same defenses that had once bought time could not overcome political enmity.

The conclusion is deliberately balanced. A prince who builds fortresses is not automatically mistaken, and neither is one who dismantles them. The error lies in treating fortifications as a substitute for popular favor or in regarding hatred among the subjects as a minor inconvenience. A ruler may be applauded for either architectural choice, but must be blamed for trusting in walls while allowing the people to become enemies.

A Wider Theory of Rule

The maxim belongs to a broader account of how a new prince should secure a foreign or recently acquired province. Such a ruler must protect weaker neighbours, weaken stronger powers, prevent an equally formidable stranger from entering, and anticipate disorders while they are still remote. The Romans are praised for planting colonies, conciliating weaker powers without making them too strong, humbling great powers, and preventing dangerous outsiders from acquiring influence.

This Roman example connects the fortress principle to preventive statecraft. Political disorders resemble an illness that is easy to cure at its beginning but difficult to recognize, then obvious but impossible to cure after it has advanced. Wise rulers therefore address danger before it becomes visible and do not postpone war merely to enjoy temporary peace, because war is not avoided by delay; it is deferred to the advantage of the other side.

The same logic governs alliances. A prince should not join a stronger power in attacking others unless necessity leaves no alternative, since victory may place him at the stronger ally's mercy. The Venetians' alliance with France against the Duke of Milan brought about their ruin, while the Florentines, unable to avoid the combined attack of the Pope and Spain against Lombardy, had to choose a side. No policy is perfectly safe; prudence consists in distinguishing degrees of disadvantage and accepting the lesser evil as a form of good. In this framework, the best fortress is ultimately a political achievement: a state whose people are not hateful toward their ruler is less likely to require walls, foreign bargains, or desperate defensive measures.